Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Monday, July 22, 2013
Leadville Silver Rush 50-mile Race Report
Last weekend
I completed my last long training run before the 100-mile race in less than a
month. The Leadville Silver Rush 50-mile
trail run is held about 1 month before the 100 every year for runners to gauge
their performance and to work on their race strategy. The race is held in the mountains East of
Leadville and climbs 7,400 vertical feet, reaching over 12,000 ft above sea
level at four separate points. I planned
to use this race to see how I would feel after 50 miles (as good as anyone can
feel after 50 miles) and to find a pace I would be able to sustain for another
50 miles. My goal finishing time was 12
hours, so I made sure to pack enough food and water to allow me to run all
day. There would be food and water at
the aid stations spread every 7 miles throughout the course, but I packed a little
bit extra because it is rare that everything goes according to plan during an
ultramarathon.
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| Just before the start |
I camped out in Leadville the night
before the race, since we would be starting at 6 am. I ate a big bowl of pasta, did final gear
prep, and studied the map the night before as if I would be going to battle the
next morning. Part of running a smart
race is knowledge of the course, particularly the location and intensity of big
climbs. The next morning, I headed to
the start with about 800 other runners and we all stared up the ski hill we
would have to run up right out of the gate.
It was going to be a long day. The gun went off and off we went. The first 10 miles gradually climbed up 2,000
ft through the trees then the alpine tundra above the tree line. The top of the climb had a great view looking
over Leadville and Mt. Elbert (14,433 ft) and Mt. Massive (14,421 ft) were
visible out in the distance. The next 5
miles were all downhill and that’s where my plan started to unravel.
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| Vicious start |
Around mile 15, my stomach started
rumbling and turning to a point that put me in a world of hell. I didn’t understand what was wrong. I had been eating and drinking right on time
when I planned and I wasn’t exerting too much effort for that stage in the
race. Whatever it was, the pain became
crippling, but all I could do was push on towards the next aid station. When I reached it, I took down some
electrolyte fluids and a bit of turkey/tortilla sandwich. I started to feel a little better, so I kept
pushing forward downhill towards the halfway point at mile 25. However, the pain came back and by the time I
reached the halfway point, there was only one solution left, bathroom. Whatever the problem was, I needed to solve
it before heading back for the second half of the race because I really did not
want to be suffering for another 6 hours.
I left the aid station feeling much better and I looked down at my
watch. 5:30. Not too bad.
I was just a little bit behind by pace for a 12:00 finish, since the
second half would be slower after having 25 miles on my legs. I started slogging back up the hill, feeling
a bit more optimistic about the second half of the race. However, that feeling quickly faded and I was
back in a world of hurt with my stomach.
Oh well, nothing I could do but keep moving forward. At this point, I would have expected my legs
to hurt more than anything, but the stomach was overriding any other signals my
body was sending, so my legs kept pushing on.
As I reached mile 28, I was nearing the top of the third big climb and
BOOM. A loud clap of thunder and a sheet
of hail released from the sky. As much
as I didn’t want to be stuck in a hailstorm, the only way to get cover was to
run. I was with about 20 other runners
above the tree line in the middle of a painful hail storm and my stomach was
trying to rip through my abdominal wall.
Weird as it may be, I smiled as I ran down towards the trees, knowing
not many people would ever know this feeling in a situation like this. After I got to the trees, the storm let up
and now it was time for my stomach to become my primary problem child
again. At mile 34, I went into the
bathroom again at the aid station, hoping this would be the end of my misery. I again left feeling good and took down some
watermelon on my way out. From here I had
just a little more hiking, then it was all downhill for 10 miles to the finish.
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| Smiles for miles |
I felt great as I was cruising the
downhill into the last aid station, 7 miles to go. I looked at my watch and to my amazement, was
still on pace for a 12:00 finish. All I
had to do was keep moving forward at a reasonable pace. Since my stomach had slowed me down so much,
my legs were still feeling fresh. I
couldn’t believe how good they felt after about 40 miles. When I left the last aid station, some rain
started to come down and within 5 minutes, it was like a monsoon ripping
through the mountains. The tough part
about running at such high elevation is that the weather changes frequently
because there’s not much around to block the clouds. This is fairly typical in Colorado, so I
looked around for a blue spot of sky that would hopefully open up soon and the
rain would pass, nothing. I knew I would
be out there for about an hour and I saw some people hiding under tress to wait
out the storm. I wasn’t about to wait that
long and I had fresh legs so I started running fast. Luckily I had a sweatshirt with me, but even
the people with rain jackets were soaked through their clothes. I passed a bunch of runners who had their
legs thrashed from the climbs a long time ago, but the only thing I could offer
was encouragement to get to the finish.
About 4 miles from the finish, I was entirely soaked and I stopped
trying to avoid the shin deep puddles that were obstructing the trail. I stomped right through them like a little
kid. 3 miles to go, I was running
through a field of power lines with lightening in every direction. I had my hat on and hood up just so I could
see the trail and get out of there as quickly as possible. Running under power lines in a lightening
storm is one thing, but I also didn’t want to get sick from running through the
cold rain. A few more puddles and I came
over the last hill and saw the finish line.
The final stretch was lined with people holding umbrellas cheering each
runner on that came through. Even the
spectators were resilient against the rain.
I crossed the line in 12 hours and 1 minute, right on time.
Although it was not my ideal race, I was happy with how
everything played out and my problem-solving ability on the trail to still get
to the finish. I felt great at the end,
which gave me a good amount of confidence about the 100-mile race in less than
a month. Over the next month, I will be
studying the course down to every intimate detail and getting everything I need
prepared. As of today, I have raised
$2,213.40 for the American Brain Tumor Association and I cannot express my gratitude
for the amount of support everyone has given me. Thank you for following my journey so far,
now it’s time for the home stretch.
Monday, July 1, 2013
The Leadville Marathon
The Leadville marathon, round
2. This is my second year running the
race and my single goal was to crush my time from last year. I will spare the details about the massive
climbs, sketchy downhills, and hailstorm I got caught in at 12,000 ft because I
want to write something more personal about this race. I finished 40 minutes and 135 places better
than last year, so my goal was accomplished and I was high on life when I came across
the line.
Distance:
26.2 mi
Elevation
Gain: 6,300 ft
Time: 5:47
Exactly one year ago, I ran the
Leadville marathon as my first marathon ever.
Due to it’s location and terrain, it is one of the most difficult
marathons in the country and probably not one for a virgin marathoner. I trained for several months leading up to
the race and hoped I would at least be able to finish by the allotted 8.5-hour
cutoff time. What happened that day is
difficult to describe. There are not
many moments in life when you can look around and say to yourself, “Wow, I DID
IT”. The closest thing I could describe
it to would be graduation, when all your hard work, blood, sweat and tears
comes to fruition at one moment. When I
crossed the finish line last year, I proved to myself that I could conquer the
most insurmountable challenge I’ve ever stepped up against. 7 months earlier, I would have never
imagined, nor wanted to run a marathon because I thought it was too difficult
and not in my cards. Throughout my
training, I remembered something my high school principal told us. “The saddest thing I hear seniors say is ‘I
wonder what it would have been like if’… If I tried out for the team, if I took
that class, if I ran for school president.
Everybody says why me, why should I do it? The better question is, why not YOU?” I took on the marathon challenge just to say
screw it and give it what I had, just to see what would happen. The experience taught me what I was truly
capable of, far beyond my preconceived notion of what I thought my limitations
were. It’s moments like that you really
feel alive and that was the moment I caught the running bug. I had originally planned on running the
marathon and calling it a day because running hadn’t infected my life yet. But the trail running bug became like a virus
to me. Those who have an outbreak show
obvious signs and become incredibly contagious to those around them. Sometimes it flares up, other times it
remains dormant, but like a virus, you will have it until the day you die. I this it’s the best virus floating around
out there. It has a way of bringing out
camaraderie and altruism in those it infects, not the dogfight we see too often
amongst ourselves everyday.
The unique thing about trail races compared to many other
sports is the amount of respect given to every runner who lines up and finishes
the race. It didn’t matter that I had
lost to the winner by over an hour. The
uproar of the crowd at the finish makes every runner recognize that they have
just conquered something truly special. I
am lucky to have the opportunity to run through the greatest mountains in the
country and I hope that my experience has sparked an idea for someone to take
on a crazy challenge, whether at work, at a competition, or in a relationship. The lessons I have learned from running
transcend all facets of my life and, I believe, have made me a better
person. If you’re reading this, I hope
you take a chance with something one day and put your whole self in, because
you might just surprise yourself. Maybe
you don’t know what to do, but the best time to start is the end of this
paragraph. Good luck!
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| A few of my close training and racing partners |
Friday, June 28, 2013
Hope Pass and marathon course
Since I
haven’t written for a while, I thought now would be a good time for a few
updates. Since the double-crossing of
the Grand Canyon, I took it easy to recover for a little bit. Now I’m back in full training mode and
getting more stoked than ever about the 100-mile journey at the end of the
summer.
Two weeks ago, the summit of Hope
Pass finally was clear of snow, so a couple friends and I headed up to
Leadville to run the part of the course that traverses the pass. Hope Pass is where a lot of people’s
Leadville dreams die. During the
100-mile race, you approach the base at mile 40, then climb up 3,000 ft over a
few miles, followed immediately by a steep decent 3,000 ft down the backside
where the 50-mile aid station waits. At
this aid station, you are allowed to pick up a pacer for the first time. Your pacer is the person responsible for
making sure you keep drinking and eating and moving forward when you feel like
you want to collapse on the side of the trail.
Armed with mantras, music and corny jokes, the pacer can be an
invaluable tool to get you to the finish.
That being said, they will also have to put up with all your complaining
and anguish, so it’s important to pick people who will be able to handle you,
perhaps in your darkest hour. The
backside of Hope Pass is the perfect place to pick up a pacer because the next 10
miles of the race you have to go BACK up and over the pass again, even steeper
on the climbs this time. This is where
most people drop out of the race, typically because they cannot make it back
over the pass in the time allotted. Race
director Ken Clouber said it best; “Hope Pass is a son of a bitch on a good
day”.
To learn more about the pass, I
decided it would be a good idea to climb it so I had an idea of what I would be
in for in August. The trail leading to
Hope Pass begins in a swampy field and typically racers have to cross a small
stream before you begin climbing up.
What we didn’t know is that the small stream is August is a raging river
in June from all the snowmelt coming off the mountain in front of us. After a couple failed attempts at crossing, I
eventually found a spot to gently hurl my hydration pack and gear across the
river and fight my way across the waist deep freezing water. Now 1-mile into the trek, wet and cold, I
headed towards the trees to get moving up the hill. I hiked through the trees at a good pace,
then kept going up past the tree line, at which point I started huffing and
puffing a little harder, but still feeling good for being at 12,000 ft. A short while later I summited, then bombed
down the backside thinking to myself “that wasn’t so bad”. I ate my words as soon as I began the ascent
back. The backside was lighting my
calves on fire and I don’t think my heel touched the ground for about a
mile. Up and up and up. Imagining going up this hill with 50 miles on
my legs made me shudder a little. After
a second summit, I headed back down towards the car, what would be mile 60 of
the race. I learned a lot about this
part of the course and I’m hoping to run Hope at least once or twice more this
summer before the 100.
Distance: 18
mi
Elevation
Gain: 6,100 ft
Time: ~7:00
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| View from the top of Hope. In the upper right of the picture you can see the town of Leadville. |
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| Backside of Hope Pass |
Since the snow has made it hard to
get a lot of high-altitude training this year, I headed back to Leadville the
following weekend to run 17 of the 26.2 miles of the marathon course. Believe it or not, the Leadville marathon
last year was my first marathon and the longest distance I’ve run up to that
point in my life. This weekend
celebrates my 1-year anniversary of that race and I’m planning to cut 1 hour
off my time from last year (6:23). Although
this time is far from respectable for a road marathon or qualifying for Boston,
the Leadville marathon course is one of the toughest in the nation because of
the rugged terrain and the 13,100 ft mountain you have to climb in the middle
of the race. To compare this race to the
Boston marathon would be like comparing the taste of lobster to skittles. The toughest part of the race, just like the
100, is a 3,000 ft climb to the top of Mosquito Pass. Last year when I ran it, all I remember is
pain and misery as I was going up and it seemed like it would never end. Last weekend, though, I felt like I was
flying up the pass. Maybe I’m in better
shape now, maybe it was just relative to Hope Pass the previous weekend. Either way, it made me really excited for the
marathon coming up this weekend.
Distance:
17.7 mi
Elevation
Gain: 3,600 ft
Time: 3:30
For most runners, the marathon distance is the zenith of
running as a sport. There are thousands
of training plans out there and everyone has their own formula for
success. Finishing my marathon a year
ago was one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. I was building up to it for months and was
completely exhausted by the time I finished.
Going into the race this year, my mentality is very different. I understand and respect the distance much
more than I did last year. I know what
fuel my body needs and how to mentally engage myself in my running. Last year I just wanted to finish, but this
year I want to finish fast. The course
is tough and I’m anxious to see the difference one year of training can
make.
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| Marathon elevation profile |
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Grand Canyon Rim2Rim2Rim
The Grand Canyon, one of the
natural 7 wonders of the world, is something every person should see once in
their life. Looking out over a massive
hole in the ground over a mile deep is quite a sight by itself. Looking at the canyon knowing you will have
to run to the bottom and climb back up twice is enough to send most people
running (the opposite direction). However,
this run has become a bucket-list item for nearly every ultrarunner; the famous
Rim2Rim2Rim. Being a short (13 hour)
drive from my hometown, it only made sense to make the trip and tackle the most
scenic trail run in the country. The
window for running the canyon each year is small. Too early in the year and there will be snow
on the North Rim and too late you risk dehydration from extreme heat inside the
canyon. After throwing the idea out to
some friends and some careful planning, we all crammed into the car and headed
out Thursday night for a long weekend in the desert. We camped in Moab around 3 am and arrived at
the canyon Friday afternoon. Our first
view of the canyon was out the window of the car and we all stared out with a
glisten in our eyes, knowing in just a few hours we would be trekking across
this beast. We have arrived.
Since we would be waking up at 3
am, we had an early dinner at the pizza shop and prepared everything for the
next day. You might be wondering “why
didn’t you eat a big bowl of pasta, like they give you before marathons”? The first answer, there is very limited food
at the Grand Canyon village, so you need to work with what you have. The second answer is that no amount of
carbo-loading would be sufficient for a run as long as this. We would be eating the entire time we were on
the trail, so the pizza was just a good base to start with, which would be
burned off early in the run. Once we set
up camp, it was time for final prep before going to bed. The most important part of this trip would be
my nutrition, since dehydration and fatigue were looming dangers that were
guaranteed if I didn’t play it smart. For
water, I would be carrying two 20 oz bottles in my pack and stopping at water
stations along the way to fill back up.
For electrolytes, I brought along salt capsules, which I haven’t used
before so I figured this would be a good trial run. For food, I packed everything from gels to
waffles to powerbars and a slice of pizza from dinner the night before. As a conservative guess, I would be eating 300
calories per hour and I might be out there for 14 hours, which equates to 4,200
calories I would need. I brought about
5,000 calories worth, just to be safe. Besides
food, I also packed a rain jacket, Tylenol, bodyglide, a headlamp and extra
socks. I didn’t want to pack anymore
than I needed, but I also needed to make sure I wouldn’t be SOL if something
went wrong. Proper preparation before a
big run is as important, if not more important than the training leading up to
it. With everything ready to go, I
headed off to bed.
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| Everything I brought on the run |
Food
9 waffles
11 gels
5 bars
2 packets of gel blocks
3 dissolvable high-calorie mixes
1 slice of pizza
At 3 in the morning, I was rearing
and ready to go. Last minute prep
included sunscreen application, duct tape over the nipples and body glide on
the inner thighs. Sunburn can be
painful, but doesn’t compare to the debilitating pain of chafing and
bleeding. I took down a leftover piece
of pizza and we headed to the trailhead at 4 am. In our Rim2Rim2Rim crew, we had myself, Ryan
and Liz, who are also training for Leadville, and Jon, an experienced
ultrarunner just along for the adventure.
Another friend joining us was Chris, who was running just one direction
(23 miles) and Tiffany, who would run down to the river and back (14
miles). We would be starting from the
South rim, going to the North rim and back.
As we started our 7-mile descent towards the bottom of the canyon on the
South Kaibab trail, all we could see were headlights dancing in the night and a
black abyss on the side of the trail. The
descent was fast and winding. It was
nice to run through the dark and not worry about a 1,000 ft drop along the side
of the trail. We reached the Colorado
River, 1 mile below the rim, as the sun was peaking above the canyon rim. We refilled our water and ate a little snack at
the Bright Angel Campground, then headed up the North Kaibab trail. The first half of the North Kaibab trail was
mellow and runnable, following a stream that fed into the Colorado River in the
canyon. After a few water stops, the sun
got higher in the sky and the trail became steeper. About 15 miles into the run, it was clear
that the easy part was over. My IT bands
started to tighten up a little, so a little stretching and hiking and Tylenol
were in order. Ryan and Jon had ran
ahead, so Liz and I kept pushing on towards the North Rim, up and up we
went. After running through a mile of
donkey poop, from the tours, we made it to the North Rim. The trip was only halfway over at 23 miles in
7 hours. Still, reaching the North Rim
felt like a small victory in its own way.
Everyone was cheering on runners as they came to the trailhead,
recognizing the grueling effort needed to make it that far.
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| Probably not an important sign |
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| The Colorado River crossing |
At the North Rim, we met back up with
Ryan and Jon, gulped down some water and ate a bunch of food from our
packs. The pizza I packed 7 hours
earlier wasn’t looking very promising, but Jon convinced me to take a bite to
see if my mind changed. Within a minute,
the entire thing was gone. While we were
resting, I got to talk to some other people who were tackling the R2R2R that
day and met “Grandpa Jim” who was giving out soda and chips to the
runners. This was not a race and he was
not paid for being there. Grandpa Jim
was there to keep everyone’s spirits up and wanted to support everyone simply
for the love of running. He is one of
the people who make the running community so much fun to be around. As I was saying goodbye to him, we saw the
donkey train coming down the trail. Time
to go. If we got stuck behind the donkey
train, we would have to wait a little while before we could pass them. So off we went, fueled and hydrated, flying
down the North Kaibab trail back towards the river. The long descent made for a beautiful run about
13 miles back to the Colorado River. Ryan
and Jon took off again, being more experienced ultrarunners, and I ran with Liz
and some of our new friends from the North Rim down the canyon. Once we reached the bottom of the canyon,
there was only 9 miles until the top. Before
we went up the Bright Angel trail, Liz and I dropped in to Phantom Ranch for
some lemonade and a quick refuel. Possibly
the most delicious lemonade I’ve ever tasted.
The first 4.5 miles up Bright Angel
were pretty mellow with great views of the river at the bottom. Then we hit the steep part. I knew from reading other people’s accounts
that this would be the toughest and steepest part, being 43
miles into the run. We kept slogging on,
eating and drinking and resting as needed.
There was a point where I started cursing the trail because it felt like
no matter how many steps I took, I wasn’t getting any closer to the rim. I guess this was part of my mental training. I started to make checkpoints to break the
hike down to make it more manageable. 1
mile, ½ mile, 1 switchback at a time. Right
when I thought I would need a serious break, I looked back behind me. I could see the river, so far below from
where I had come and the sunset lighting up the canyon walls in a way I could
not believe was real. I thought maybe
the miles and altitude had been messing with my head, but this was all
real. I took a moment to soak in that
moment because they do not come very often in life. The sun that was illuminating the canyon
walls was the same one I saw 15 hours earlier rising on the other side of the
canyon. It was a surreal experience and
for a moment, the fatigue and exhaustion and pain that had been probing me for
hours melted away. This view made the
whole trip worth it. Shortly after this,
I saw the fence at the top of the South Rim, the end. Liz and I walked into the parking lot where
everyone was filing into busses and let out a howl of victory that confused and
terrified all the children in the area. We
had made it across the Grand Canyon and back in 15 ½ hours. I was elated.
Distance: 48 mi
Elevation Gain: ~11,000 ft
Time: 15:30
Calories Burned: ~7,500
Calories Taken In: ~4,000
Looking
back on this run, with all the things I tested out and my physical condition,
it couldn’t have gone any better. I was
fully prepared with food and electrolytes and water, the new pair of shoes I
wore didn’t cause me any problems, and my body was prepared to take me the long
distance. This was not an easy run and
was 50% longer than the longest run I’ve ever done, but to have completed it
and felt as good as I did was a big accomplishment. I feel lucky to have been able to do this
run, especially with the great people I got to run with. We tend to look up to great people, like
sports figures and social activists, who have changed the course of
history. We call them our heroes and
plaster our bedroom walls with posters of them growing up. I have come to learn that my biggest heroes
are the people I hang out with every day.
I get to watch them formulate dreams and push themselves beyond the boundaries
of what many think is possible, while inspiring everyone around them to do the
same. My heroes find comfort zones and
hurl themselves as far as they can outside of them to test the true limits, not
the perceived limits, of their ability. They
stay honest and humble in their efforts and let their actions inspire, rather
than use empty aphorisms (What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger). They believe that you can always make
progress and should always strive for improvement, even when improvement means
walking 100 feet without stopping. Ultrarunning
is a mentally taxing sport. The ultimate
question still lingers, “why do you do this”? It is still a hard question to
answer, but I am beginning to understand part of the answer, the people. The people you train with, the people you
meet on the trail, the person you discover in yourself when pushed to the
edge. Unexpectedly, they have become my
heroes for their willingness to run through hail, blistering heat, extreme altitudes,
with pained limbs, unable to stomach solid food, slogging up and down hills for
a ridiculous number of miles, with no cash prize or notoriety waiting at the
finish. There is something else,
difficult to describe, which keeps driving them forward. They have a smile on their face and endure the
treacherous terrain as they move forward, hour after hour. These are my heroes, and the people who make
this crazy sport so much fun.
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| We made it! |
Monday, May 6, 2013
Race Report: Greenland 50K
This weekend I had a great time
running my first 50 K (31 miles) in Larkspur, CO, which is about halfway
between Denver and Colorado Springs. The
course was laid out as 4 loops through the Greenland open space, which sits
right next to a bunch of farms right next to I-25. Out in the distance, you could see Colorado’s
most famous 14er, Pikes Peak (14,110 ft), snowcapped above all the other
mountains. The race is dubbed
“Colorado’s fastest 50 K”, which does not translate to “easiest” by any
means. It is a fast course because of
the relatively low elevation gain and fast downhill sections. If you have been following my training, you
already have an idea of the types of runs I’ve been doing leading up to this race,
so here is a breakdown of the race from one day out until one day after.
24 hours before race day: Time to
pack and think about everything I will need for the race. Typically, I can run for about an hour and a
half without any food and a bottle of water, but since I’m not Kilian Jornet,
there is no way I could finish this race without adequate nutrition. The three big things I will need are carbs to
feed my muscles, water to stay hydrated, and electrolytes to restore the salt
I’ll lose through sweat. The tricky part
about race nutrition is that everybody is different in their needs throughout a
race. The same basic formula holds true,
but the amount you sweat, how efficiently you use carbs, and how well your body
tolerates certain foods is all dependent on the person. It’s important to experiment with different
foods on your long runs to see what works best for you so you are not
struggling on race day because of poor preparation. For example, some ultrmarathoners operate at
their best only fueled by gels for 50 miles or more. I’ve found that I need some semblance of
solid food in order to keep moving for long periods and not have stomach
problems. Since I don’t want to carry
any more than I have to, I looked at what the two aid stations on the course would
have in supply and brought along only the things I would need in addition. According to the race information, the aid
stations would have water and HEED, an electrolyte drink. Electrolytes: check. They would also have a supply of Hammer
Nutrition Gel packets along with pretzels and M&Ms. Carbs: check. I would not have to carry much food, since
there would be enough at the aid stations, so I chose to bring along a water
bottle, a honey stinger waffle (solid food) and caffeinated gels for the last
lap to give me a little extra boost.
Once the food situation was figured
out, I arranged everything else to make sure I would be good to go. Next in line was clothing. Weather in Colorado can change drastically in
a 6-hour period, so I like to bring along clothes for every kind of weather and
make a last second decision about what I will wear. The temperature was predicted to be about
34-45 degrees and sunny throughout the morning.
Race attire would include shorts, t-shirt, sunglasses and hat to keep the
sweat out of my face, along with a backup pair of under armor pants and light
jacket just in case. Clothes:
check. Last order of business is iPod
playlist, which has everything from country to hip-hop to dubstep so it doesn’t
become too monotonous. With everything
good to go, I cooked up a pasta dinner with some chicken and headed off to
bed.
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| Beginning of the playlist |
 | |||
|
Race day: They say breakfast is the most important meal
of the day, especially on race day. I
started off with peanut butter and jelly with some sliced up bananas and a big
ol cup of coffee, then headed out for an hour drive to the race start. I checked in, tied my bib on, warmed up a
little and the gun went off at 7am.
BAM. I knew I wanted to take the
first lap easy. I was aiming for a 10
min/mile average, which would finish me around 5 hours and 10 minutes. Since I had 4 laps and 31 miles to run, I had
to be patient and not spring out ahead of myself if I felt too strong. The first half of the loop was a gradual
uphill, followed by a relatively flat section.
I fell in to a nice pace behind a couple of guys and we ran in a group
for a while. 3.5 miles in, we hit the
first aid station, which I went right past.
I was still feeling good from my dinner and breakfast that I didn’t need
to fuel up yet. The next section was a
steep, but runnable uphill for about 3 miles.
I moved pretty easily up this part, keeping stock of my pace and how
hard I was breathing. The final stretch
of the loop was all downhill until the turnaround and start of the next loop. The downhill is a great place to make up time
lost on the uphill and a chance to use different muscle groups and get a
little bit of a rest. At the turnaround
was aid station number two at mile 8, time for some nutrients. Although I wasn’t too hungry yet, I’ve found
it’s much better to eat early and be safe than eat when it’s too late. I slammed about 6 oz of electrolyte drink as
fast as I could, grabbed a gel packet and got right back on the trail.
Lap 2+3: I ate the gel packet on the
run up the gradual uphill section and kept moving on through the flats to the
next aid station. Time for another gel
and 6 oz more of electrolytes. I made it
up the next hill and down towards the turnaround feeling good, 16 miles done
and half way to the finish. At this
point my body was working a little harder from the miles, so I grabbed 12 oz of
electrolyte drink, another gel and some twizzlers. I could tell I was starting to slow down, but
I was still ahead of my 10 min/mile pace, so as long as I didn’t slow too much,
I could still make it. At the next aid
station (mile 19.5) I took down 12 oz more of electrolytes and grabbed two
gels, then hoofed it up the hill.
Through this section I got down both gel packets and the waffle I packed
in my pocket, just to make sure I wouldn’t bonk and hit “the wall”. By the time I got to the turnaround (mile
24), I knew my nutrition plan was working, but my joints and muscles were
having different plans for me.
Lap 4: At the aid station, all the joints below by
belly button were aching and my legs muscles were tightening, each taking a
turn to tell me how much they were hurting.
I had a feeling this might happen, so I had to focus and just keep
moving forward, ignoring the aches and moans from my lower body. The head controls everything else and it was
still functioning well. At this point, I
was thinking in primal mode. What do I
need to finish this race? Pretzels? Yes.
Handful of chips? Yes. M&Ms? No.
Electrolyes? Yes. Off I go, lap
4. I was still on track for my goal
pace, so I had to keep moving forward. Relentless
forward progress. On the way out to the
last aid station, I ate the pack of caffeinated gels. Ultimately, the 10
min/mile pace I had been maintaining was not sustainable after 25 miles, so I
was forced into a slower pace and had to walk some parts of the hills to keep
moving. At the final aid station, I only
grabbed some electrolyte drink and kept moving.
If I stopped for more then 30 seconds the pain and swelling would come
back and I would be in a world of pain again.
I trudged up the hill and settled into a nice jog on the downhill until
the finish.
Final time:
5:28:38
Distance: 31
mi
Elevation
Gain: 2,200 ft
 |
| Each mile split divided by laps |
 |
| Elevation profile of entire race |
After the race I drank some Recoverite,
which is full of electrolytes and amino acids to accelerate recovery time from
races like this. Although my muscles did
stiffen up, I stretched and iced them for a while and I’m feeling much better
now. Looking back on the race, I was
happy that I was able to eat and hydrate adequately and did not have any energy
problems. Since this was the longest
race I have done, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got closer to the later
stages, but I felt that I was prepared.
The one thing I really took away was recognition of the limitations of
my own body. I tried to maintain a pace
that was a bit ambitious for this course for me and it ended up taking a toll
in the last few miles. However, it was a
great learning experience to see how far I could go on a pace that was
comfortable. I will have many more
training runs that will be 30 miles long, so I will be able to experiment a
little more with my strategy in the longer distances. As a last word, I want to say thank you to
the American Brain Tumor Association for the t-shirt that I ran in and to
everybody who has donated so far. This
journey has been a lot of fun and I’m really excited for some more big runs
this Spring and Summer.
 |
| My buddy Ryan who got 7th in the 50K |
 |
| Coming through the last aid station. Smiles for miles |
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