Race Report: Marin Ultra Challenge 50-Miler

Run Hard or Run Home?

The Backstory

A little over a month ago I ran the Sean O'Brien 100k and got into the Wasatch Front 100 in the same weekend.  Other than those two races, I had nothing on the books, and hadn't planned to run anything in March.

Meanwhile, my girlfriend is training for the Leona Divide 50 miler, and was looking to run a 50k race as a training run to test out nutrition, pacing, and equipment.  She found the Marin Ultra Challenge 50k in Marin County and asked if I'd want to come race if she ran it as a training run.  The area is beautiful and the trails are fun, so I hopped on board to run the 50-mile distance while she ran the 50k.  The 50-mile is not an easy course, with 11,100 feet of claimed total ascent, and I was excited to see what it had in store for me.

My recovery from SOB had been pretty lackadaisical, but my core was doing OK and the legs felt strong, so I figured I could hammer out a 50 miler to gage what kind of progress I had made since I last raced in the area at the 2013 North Face Endurance Challenge 50-miler.

I had been watching the weather reports during the week leading up to the race, and the last that I checked, they read about 75 degrees and sunny at the hottest portion of the day.  I didn't check the weather for the 3 or so days leading up to the race, so I really didn't know what to expect on race day and planned for 75 degrees.  The RD sent out a couple pre-race emails, and both said to prepare for heat, which is fine, so I showed up on the starting line in a singlet and shorts with 2 water bottles, ready to go.

My nutrition plan was the same as SOB: drink 200 cal/hr of Tailwind and supplement with gels and chips as necessary.  1 bottle in my vest would have the calorie drink, and the other would have plain water for cooling and drinking.  Possibly relevant to the report is that I had just had my lip operated on that week and so I had some stitches to deal with and was on antibiotics to prevent infection.  Does that stuff affect heart rate?

 The Race

The race is a low key setup: a field with parking, some tables/tents for race business and aid, and a blow-up starting arch.  This was nice, because it was easy to get ready at the car and be right there at the starting line.  The aforementioned field is located at Marin's Fort Baker, which sits almost directly beneath the North End of the Golden Gate Bridge, and provided for some stellar views of the lit-up bridge in the early morning darkness of the start.  A great way to begin the day!

View from the starting area.  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

The horn went off about 10 minutes after 6am and we took off into the darkness via a paved road for the first half mile or so.  I opted to go out hard because, though I did not know this first portion of the course, I guessed that we would be in single-track soon and did not want to get caught in a conga-line for the first miles of the race.  I silo-ed myself into my headlamp beam and blazed past most of the pack to situate myself in the top 20 or 30 runners.  Both the 50-mile and 50k runners started at the same time, so I really had no idea who ahead of me would be hammering for 30 miles or 50, so I tried to settle myself into a nice spot where I could climb at my own pace and also not block anyone out who wanted to hammer.

The after a few paved curves of climbing, the course took a hard left onto some wood-beam stairs on single track and the trail portion began.  The trail was winding and well maintained...a great start for the run, but as I glanced down when the first mile ticked off, I noticed that my heart rate was already through the roof! "178??? Damn, that's way to high...I don't feel like I'm climbing that hard!" I thought to myself, but I quickly reminded myself that I was probably propped up on starting line adrenaline and that I should obey the heart rate monitor.

After trying, unsuccessfully, to dial the heart rate back into what I would consider a more manageable range (150-160 is where I normally climb at), I decided that today was a good day to die and that I'd run at this effort level until I blew up.  I settled in somewhere in the 160s and went for it.

A cursory study of the race profile showed 9 major climbs, though I think 8.5 would be more accurate.  I find the best way for me to check off progress on race courses is to know how many major climbs/descents I have to tackle.  The first climb out of Fort Baker into the headlands was #1, and sent the runners over a saddle, and down a double-track to Rodeo Valley, out towards Rodeo Beach, and on to the 2nd climb. 

The Marin Ultra Challenge 50-Miler Elevation Profile (Image Courtesy of InsideTrail.com)

Hill 88, as it's called is a bit steep with a mix of single track, stairs, and road.  I settled into climbing, and made it up and down towards Tennessee Valley in no time.  I remembered the descent into Tennessee Valley leaving me beaten up during the Endurance Challenge, but this time I came into the aid station feeling really solid, if not a little wary of my high heart rate.

Looking South from the climb up Hill 88.  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

I was stoked to hear the the race was serving Tailwind at the aid stations, so I pulled up and started filling Tailwind into my bottles, but after taking 1 swig and not being able to taste any flavor, I figured the aid station crew hadn't mixed a high enough concentration, so I resorted to my backup plan of ziplocs of Tailwind in my drop bags.  This worked out fine, but it took a while and I dropped a few positions in the process of filling my bottles and dumping my headlamp into the drop bag.  As I ran out of the station, I could see a guy I know, Ian, up ahead of me, and I thought I might try to catch up to him without destroying myself, but my body wasn't having it and I maintained my already high heart rate heading into the 3rd 'climb' (the 0.5 of the 8.5 climbs).

The trail snakes along some rugged Nor Cal coastline.  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

Due to not paying attention to the course distances between aid, I filled 2 bottles at Tennessee Valley and 4 miles later, I ran into Muir Beach and blew right through the aid station with plenty of water and Tailwind to spare.  This aid station funnels the runners up a small valley and into the first of 2 relatively large climbs on the course.  The Cardiac Hill climb is not steep, and is rather runnable, but I found myself in a constant state of worry that I was going to blow up and kept reining myself in.  The views from this climb are also spectacular.  Behind the runners are the rolling hills of the headlands that we had just traversed, beyond which is the coastal side of San Francisco. 

Green rolling hills and the Golden Gate Bridge peeking out! Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

To the left, the meadows roll down the hills, over the highway, and into the ocean, and to the right the valleys extend off into Marin and turn from sage meadow to green forest.  Ahead, the trail climbs through both meadow and forest to reach the aid station.  At the aid station, I filled bottles, grabbed extra Tailwind for the Stinson Beach aid station and headed off down the famous Dipsea Trail.

The Dipsea Trail is steep and fun, winding through tall redwoods down to the ocean.  My legs were starting to feel the fatigue a bit (Shit! 20 miles in?? Already??) and I continued to second-guess my race strategy.  I had no choice but to continue running on, so after the fun descent, I was deposited onto the streets of Stinson Beach, where I ran through and up to the aid station at the bottom of the Willow Camp climb.  Here, I ran into a runner I've met a few times, Chris, who is a fast dude himself and we talked for a bit as I filled up, and then I started off up the climb.  Always good to see local runners staffing the aid stations!

Willow Camp is a burly climb.  It's mostly steep, with a lot of it heading straight up the hill, and it's almost 1800 vertical feet, which is solid for a coastal run!  I was hiking hard and lamenting to myself about my high heart rate, but it seemed like my body was handling it, so I even wondered if maybe my heart rate monitor was malfunctioning.  Either way, some time later, I ended up at the top of the climb, stiff and tired.  I started cranking along the flattish single track (the out-and-back portion of TNFEC for those who know that race) back towards Pantoll and the Cardiac aid station.  Surprisingly, I felt pretty good.  It was heating up, but I wasn't too beat up yet, and the ocean was providing some respite with a cool breeze.  The section of trail from the top of Willow Camp to Cardiac Hill is my favorite on the course...it's not steep, it's very runnable and the views are fantastic!

At Pantoll, the road official had brought out some water and an ice bath with a sponge, so I filled up half a bottle of my now-empty bottles and doused myself in ice water for the last mile until Cardiac.  The last mile was more great single track and I got into Cardiac feeling ready to fill up and keep running well.

The descent that followed is super fun.  The smooth-packed single track trail snakes down through a forested valley of trees down to a creek at the along the valley floor.  I blazed by boyscouts and hikers who kindly accommodated their faster moving trail counterparts by stepping to one side or the other when I would call out a greeting.  During this section, apparently the course had been vandalized and there were no ribbons for a quite some time.  I was a bit worried, but there weren't any turnoffs, so I continued plugging down the hill.  Towards the bottom, hikers began to tell us that we were on the right track, and that others had said to pass the word along...phew!  The striped turn ribbons at the bottom confirmed this and my mind was able to relax.  During this descent, and following climb, I met a fellow runner, Dan, who I would end up running with on and off for the rest of the race.  He was pretty much the only other runner that I saw for the rest of the day!

The Ocean View climb is also single track with some stairs, mostly smooth and runnable terrain winding up and across the hill before it gently turns to flat, and then down into Muir Woods.  My legs were feeling more and more beat up, but I found that my hiking was still strong, and a strong hike/run combo on the hills seemed to be keeping me at a solid pace.  Some chips and Tailwind at Muir Woods really helped me feel solid, and the aid station captain actually filled one of my ziplocs with Tailwind powder so that I could dose my own bottle at the Muir Beach aid station.

Normally, Muir Beach is 2.6 miles from there and along pretty much all flat trail.  Unfortunately, due to my inadequate study of the course map, I did not realized at first that we do not follow the same trail as the TNFEC, and instead head up onto Dias Ridge.  At the turn marker and sign that read 'Dias Ridge', I realized my mistake, and made the mental readjustment to start climbing again.  This section of trail is super rad as well, and highly runnable for someone who is not in the middle of a slow-motion legsplosion, but for me, I was reduced to a run/hike again.  Luckily, Dan was behind me by not much, and every few switchbacks I would see him running and this helped me to stay motivated to turn up the pace a bit.  He passed me when I stopped to stretch my ever tightening hammies and I chased him all the way into Muir Beach, and then up climb number 8.

At this point, the heat of the day was in full swing, and my PMR trucker hat was soaked through, creating a delightful sauna on my head, which I did not appreciate.  However, I appreciated the shade on my face that the brim generated, so I put up with it.

Climb 8 was an unfamiliar climb to me, but it was also a nice and winding single track that was completely exposed to the sun, so I did my best to keep hydrating and drinking Tailwind.  My singlet was soaked through and sticking to me and I was sweating like crazy, but somehow I wasn't feeling too bad just yet!  I caught Dan at the top of the climb and we started the descent together, talking about course marking and successfully navigating an unmarked turn to the descent into Tennessee Valley.  I remember this descent well from TNFEC: my knees hurt, my legs hurt, my feet hurt...I was toasted.  This time, however, I was feeling stiff and tired, but I still had some gas in the tank!  Unfortunately, I also had something else in the tank, and the downhill pounding seemed to loosen it up, so I slowed a bit to make it to the aid station intact.

After a delightful bio break in an outhouse at the aid station, I realized that I had a throbbing headache and was pretty dehydrated.  'No matter,' I thought, 'I only have 6 miles to go'.  So I filled up on Tailwind, downed some Coke and Mountain Dew, took an ice sponge shower and ran out to tackle the last climb.

Climb #9, or as it is officially known, Marincello, is a smooth and gradually climbing fire trail.  I was able to hike/run again, but was feeling more and more beat up and haggard and my legs were unhappy with motion.  The sun was beating down, and though I tried to wear my hat backwards to get some breeze through the mesh, the sun continued to force me to turn it around to shade my face.  Definitely ready to be done running.

The top of the climb yields to a short fire road descent, another short fire road climb, and then the winding single track and pavement descent to the finish.

I could see Dan ahead of me by a decent amount, but the thought of trying to hammer for another 4 miles to catch him and pass him for an inconsequential placing increase left me unmotivated to bury myself to pip him at the finish line. I decided to just run hard and see what happened.

Over the next 4 miles, I reeled him in a bit, but ended up over a minute behind him, making me wish I had time to take that last pre-race dump instead of wasting the time at Tennessee Valley, but that's life.  The final miles were tough, as I suppose they should be while running hard for 9-ish hours, but after cruising into the finish and sitting down, I realized that I didn't feel all that bad, and I wasn't going to die of heat exhaustion.

I was stoked to see that the girlfriend had finished her 50k in 1 piece and had actually executed it really well.  It was her 1st mountain 50k, and with 7100 vertical feet of total ascent, it was a good one!

Stoked to be done and enjoying the sunshine in Marin!  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

The clock read 9:26 and change when I ran through.  I had originally thought that I could break 9 hours here, after having split 9:03 at the 50 mile mark at the SOB 100k, but the heat had other plans, so a sub-9 performance was relegated to another, cooler and/or more fit day.  Still, it was a 50-mile PR by 50 minutes in some challenging conditions on a challenging course.  I'll take that any day.  Now it's beer time.

The benefits of racing in the North Bay...a trip to Russian River Brewing the day before the race to pick up some post race hydration supplies!  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

Race Report: 2015 Sean O'Brien 100k

This past weekend, Sean O'Brien 50/50/100, known as 'SOB' to most, went down.  It's a set of 4 distances of trail races, with the 100k distance sitting atop the distance list.  The 100k is part of the Montrail Ultra Cup race series, which means that there are 2 slots at the Western States 100-miler up for grab for the top 2 men and top 2 women finishers and with a stated total ascent of ~16,000 ft. the race lives up to its abbreviated moniker.  I had a go at the 100k, and this is what happened.

The SOB Start/Finish Area and Surrounding Mountains.  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

Training

SOB's first running was in 2014, but I did not partake because I was shooting for the Coyote Cohort Backbone Ultra that was taking place 5 weeks later.  When signups went up for SOB this year, I hopped on the train and signed up for the 100k.  Sometime after that, I also realized that most of my big fitness gains regarding running had come when I was training using a structured training plan, so I decided to write myself a plan, which can be pretty much summarized as follows:

1. A cycle of 2 build weeks followed by 1 recovery week (I found that the 2/1 cycle has worked well for me in the past)
2. 90 mile peak weekly mileage
3. 30/20 back-to-back run on the peak mileage weekend
4.  2 days of speed/hills/tempo run to get me some more speed, which I felt I had been neglecting over the past year while I attempted to get myself strong enough to run in the mountains

I also made a mental plan to focus on getting enough sleep, moderating beer intake, and eating the right amount of the right foods.

This all sounds well and good, but if I don't follow the plan, who knows how well it works, right?  Here's how it went:

1. 2-weeks build/1-week recover.  Almost immediately after writing to plan, I then signed up for Red Rock 50 and had to modify it.  This resulted in a weird 1 week build/1 week recovery canter into mid December before I could get my schedule to re-sync with my planned schedule.  Overall, I'm going to mark this as a success, because I really wanted to run Red Rock and I made it work.
2. Mileage.  Despite having a wonky schedule of weekly mileage for a month or so, the mileage and weekly ascent values were increasing, and I was feeling good about it, especially because the higher mileage weeks weren't leaving me completely wrecked; I would come out of these weeks ready for another week of training.  The 3 biggest weeks were planned at 80, 80 and 90 miles, and I hit them at 85, 80, and 103 miles, respectively, and felt really solid throughout with only a few really tough runs in there.
3. 30/20.  This ended up 35/24 because of a group run on the SOB course and the desire to hit 100 miles in a week.  This dropped me into taper and I had a really good 24 to cap it off and double up with the 35, so I call this a success too.
4. Speed.  This was by far the most helpful portion of my training.  I moved up to West LA last summer and after a few months, got hooked in with a group of fast, dedicated ultramarathoners.  These guys (and girl/panda/whatever) were always down to run hard, come up with some structured workouts, and sometimes be rabbits to chase during tempo or hill climb workouts (not rabbits by choice, they are just way faster than me!).  These workouts (combined with the rest of the mileage) enabled me to climb faster and run harder throughout SOB. Success.

How did the sleep/beer/food thing go?  Pretty well.  I was attentive to my own needs and it paid off.  No doubt that getting tossed after a 30 miler is not the best way to recover.  Write that down.

So all that stuff got me to the taper weeks of my training plan.  I planned in 3 weeks of taper:  1 week at 2/3 max mileage, 1 week at 1/3 max mileage, and 1 easy week for race week.   Because I had planned max mileage at 90 miles, this meant 60 miles, 30 miles and easy.  I hit these at 58 mile, 42 miles, and 15-ish miles.  Solid.  As most ultramarathoners experience, taper sucks.  For some reason we really like running, and having extra time on the hands and not putting it up into the mountains is off putting.

Race

The night before the race, I camped out where the race was held (Malibu Creek State Park).  This included eating some tasty food, and sitting by the fire, drinking a beer (and water!!) and listening to Steely Dan.  Overall, a good way to prepare for the race.

In the past, my race plan is to go out easy and then increase pace through the race towards the finish.  There is a ton of advice to support this type of racing strategy, and it had worked out pretty well for me previously, but I always wondered if I left too much out there on the course.  Thursday before the race, I was chatting with my buddy on a final taper run, and his description of how he and other elites paced themselves made some pretty good sense to me.  What I took from it, and decided would be my race strategy, is: run hard, and let how much food I can eat dictate how fast I can go. I would run hard the entire race and see what happened.

The weather report on race day was somewhat confusing, but the short story was that it was probably going to rain at some point.  To accommodate, I brought along a Buff for the start, a hat for rain, and a ultralight shell for if things got nasty.  I also ziplok'ed up some spare socks in the mile 13/36 aid station bag for if my feet were getting mangled by wet socks.  There is a stream crossing at mile 2, and I wasn't sure if my feet would get cheese-grated or what.

The SOB Start/Finish Line circa 4:58am.  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

The gun went off right at 5am, and all of us took off into the darkness by headlights.  The elites were hammering and soon gone from sight, so I settled in and ended up running with a buddy of mine from the Kodiak 100.  He's a strong runner, and I assumed he would soon forge ahead on his own, which he did, about 4 miles in.  I had gone through the stream crossing at mile 2 without much fanfare and started the first big climb of the race, where I was trying to keep my heart rate where it needed to be, run when I could, and stay on top of calorie consumption.  The mile 7.5 aid station came into view at 1:15 (race time) or so and realized that I hadn't touched my 2nd water bottle...so I pretty much lugged the thing up the hill for nothing.  I resolved to not over-fill again and, on the plus side, I did not have to stop at this aid.

I continued to run hard through the next section, which is downhill, flat, rolling, and runnable.  This is my favorite section of the course because it's single track, beautiful, packed dirt, and super fast.  I was stoked to get on it and I soon caught my friend from the start and we ran together some more.  At about mile 11, I filled half a bottle of water at the aid station, and pushed on to the first drop bag station to calls of  'Allez! Allez! Allez!' from my friend's girlfriend, who I don't know, but recognized our team's jersey that I was wearing.

The mile 13.5 aid station  showed up around 2:21 and I filled my bottles with Tailwind for the next 6-7 mile section of trail which included more rolling, and a fire trail climb and descent.  Again, the single track was rolling and fun, and the section breezed by, leaving me at the foot of a fire trail climb. I saw my buddy Pedro here and he took a pretty funny picture of me and helped me get out my sunglasses from my vest.  I said peace out, threw up some high-fives, climbed the fire trail and then descended smoothly into the aid station at mile 19.1 at 3:17.

The course then enters 'the lollipop loop' of the course, and continues to descend to the furthest point out on the race at mile 22.7 (3:48).  I ran down this with a dude I had just met earlier named Tyler.  He is a friend of some of my friends and we chatted all the way down.  Here, I was disappointed to see that my friend Dom had rolled his ankle badly and, after 10 miles of attempting to race hard through the pain, had dropped.  It sucks to see a buddy in the pits and not be able to help them out, so I did my best with a fist bump, some kind of words of encouragement after I had filled my bottles and took off up the trail.

The 2nd descent on the 'lollipop loop' as seen from the first descent.  Photo taken during my peak week of training (don't be confused by the sunshine!).

This is the first section of the course where I was pretty wary of my race strategy.  The preceding descent is 2200 ft. over 5 miles, and is followed by a 1500 ft. climb, a 900 ft. descent, and a 1600 ft. climb over the next 10 miles.  It is the first protracted set of descent/ascent combos that start to do some work on the legs.  I felt like I was running on the edge of too hard, sometimes climbing into the red zone and needing to recover a bit below the sustainable threshold.  This was resulting in some great feeling moments and some less great feeling moments, with an overall feeling of mildly out of control pacing.  I could feel my hamstrings tightening up, which made it hard to open my stride, but after a quick stretch break at the top of the first climb, I was able to open up a bit on the flats a descents to keep speed.

Up until this point, my strategy of 200 cal/hr of Tailwind and some supplemental aid station grub had been working out great, but coming down the descent of this loop, I was getting really thirsty, and drinking Tailwind was having no effect on my thirst!  I'm not sure what the deal was...perhaps too much salt for such a cool day? Or palate fatigue and all I really needed was a different tasting liquid?  I'm unsure about this, but when I reached the mile 19/30 aid station, I chugged some water and felt much better!  I also switched to Clif Shots & water to keep getting calories in while I figured out this nutrition issue.

By the time I reached Buzzards Roost at the end of the 1600 footer, the skies had opened up a bit and it was raining lightly.  I threw on my shell for the descent, but when I got back down to the single track towards the mile 13.5/36.5 aid station, I felt like I was sweating too much, and took it back off.  I probably should have left it off to begin with...oh well, live and learn.

The intersection of the single track and the fire trail is where the 50k course turnaround is, so I began to see both outbound and inbound 50k runners.  Everyone was super friendly and I was exchanging words of encouragement pretty regularly.  Lots of good vibes!  I also felt good because I was moving along pretty well at 35 miles into the race, which meant the race strategy hadn't backfired yet!  At mile 36.5 aid, I filled water again, grabbed a few more gels and continued to hammer on through the next awesome single track section.

A side note here: I had been running with a pair of women, Megan and Darla, on and off for about 10 miles at this point.  I believe they were running in 6th/7th position or so.  Someone then informed me that it was Megan Arbogast, who is a no joke fast lady.  Darla turned out to be screaming-fast Darla Askew. Her reputation had not preceded her to me, though maybe it should have, because her race resume is pretty amazing.  Over the course of the day I learned that she's running in her 3rd Hardrock this year...nice!  I was pretty stoked to be in good company!

The rest of the single track section back to mile 7.5/42.5 aid was a breeze and the watch clicked over 7:44 as I passed through the aid.  A few of my buddies were spectating here and threw in some words of encouragement while I mowed down on some food and refilled water.  Seeing friends is always a great mental boost, and I was pumped up to tackle the next section of the course, which is arguably the hardest section.

From mile 42.5 the 100k course splits off the 50 mile course for a 12 mile out-and-back that includes a 1800 ft. descent over 3 miles on the Bulldog trail which the runner must climb up again about 5 miles later.  To seal the deal, this section throws in some fast flat stuff on the back stretch of the out-and-back, just to make the runners work hard after a steep descent and before climbing back up it! SOB indeed.

Some of the terrain surrounding the Bulldog Trail.  Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

This section was my first and only really low point.  My stomach started cramping on the gels, so I couldn't eat much on the way down and was feeling pretty fatigued by the bottom.  I had Tailwind powder with me, and I figured that the issues from earlier had probably run their course, so I filled up with that at the turnaround for the climb back up the hill.  I also saw my other buddy Guillaume at the bottom of the hill.  He was dealing with really bad cramping issues and would eventually chalk up his first DNF for the day as well.  I tried to get him to come climb the hill with me, but I think his legs were too far gone to make it.  More words of encouragement and I took off.  The flatish portion of the course before the climb was painful.  Having no energy wasn't stopping me from trying to run hard, and it resulted in just feeling shitty and really wanting the climb to start so that I could hike instead of run.  Finally, the climb arrived and I started to hike as hard as a could manage and drink the Tailwind to get some food in me.  Somewhere on this climb, I remember thinking that I never want to run again, haha. Oh racing...you make me think some crazy things.  The good news was that the Tailwind was working! By the top I was feeling pretty rejuvenated, and I took a Mocha Clif Shot that has 50mg of caffeine in it...rocket fuel!  I smashed the small descent to the aid station at mile 54.5 (10:06) and filled up on chips, goldfish crackers, and Reese's peanut butter cups.  So delicious.  My friends were still there, so I took in some encouragement from them and hammered off to try and run out the last 7.5 miles hard.

The last section is a repeat of the first section, only backwards, so I just ran down hard and hiked/ran up as fast as my legs would let me.  When I hit the final descent to the stream crossing, I opened up and just let gravity pull me all the way down the hill.  That caffeine must have been working because I felt strong!  I ended up passing my friend that I had run with at the start, and so I was running a bit scared after the stream crossing because I didn't want to pass strong and then blow up and get caught!  I pushed up the small climb back into the State Park where the finish is located and let myself relax a bit at the top, though I tried to run hard in to finish strong.  This section is super fun because, again, it is packed single track and totally runnable!  It dumps the runners out onto some gravely road and then onto more trail and pavement to the finish.  I crossed the finish around 11:16 and was pretty stoked to be done!

Me at the finish line.  As Crista said, "One satisfied runner." Photo Courtesy of Crista Scott.

Post Race

At the end of the day, it appears that the race strategy worked out!  I think I have some core work to do to support my legs running strong and loose for the whole race, but overall, I was pretty happy with the gains that the last training buildup yielded!  After trying to rehydrate a bit, I drank a beer or two at the finish line and then headed off with the girlfriend to Rancho San Juan to watch some racing, drink some more beer and enjoy the vibe.  To cap it all off, while I was racing on Saturday, I was accepted into the Wasatch Front 100 in September!  Stoked!  What a great weekend!

The Hype Begins! 7 Reasons Why You Should Run the 2nd Annual San Sugar G Falls Fatass Run

San Sugar G Falls.

The name is cryptic and draws you in. Your mind churns.  Brain synapses begin to fire. Your palms get sweaty. You start the think:

"What is it?  The title says 'run'...should I run it?  Are there really 7 reasons?  Or did he just pick the number 7 first and try to make up a bunch of reasons to match? Did he shoot for 10 but not make it?"

Good questions.  The following information will enlighten you.  Read on.

To start, what is a fatass run?  Some people don't know, so here's what it is: a free run on a route that someone else (or you) organized.  Often times there are aid stations set up by the person/people who set up the run.

Why do I need reasons to run it?  Valid question.  I'm not a Pulitzer prize winning writer, so after 2 failed attempts at writing a non-boring run report to chronicle the run and get the hype building for next year's adventure, I decided to structure the blog post as one of these trendy "XX# of reasons why you should do some shit that I think you should do." posts.  Can't win 'em all. Let's begin.

1. The People.  This year (the 1st Annual San Sugar G Falls Fatass Run) my buddy Jason and I were the only dudes to run this run.  We're pretty rad...

Rad Dudes? You decide...when you come run the 2nd Annual San Sugar G Falls Fatass Run! There will be Ruffles.

Or at least we think we are...and we'll be there next year too. But that's neither here nor there.

This run is a brainchild of Jason, and if there's one dude you want to come up with the route for this run, it's Jason.  The dude is a man of the outdoors and a scholar of the trails.  He spends so much time scouting pirate trails and deer tracks in the mountains above Big Bear Lake that he actually knows the mountain lions up there by name, and rides one of them to work every morning. True story.  This qualifies the dude to be the course designer. And it's an amazing course.

What about me?  I'm just a dude who likes to run, and who happened to meet Jason during the Kodiak 100 (also in Big Bear Lake).  I love adventuring in the outdoors and running informal big runs in addition to formal trail races.  I actually do love more than that, but for the sake of this article, that'll do.  I also did not have to run Chimera 100 the weekend after this run was planned.  I will bring you chips to munch on at some key drop points.  Ruffles.

2. The Cost.  That's right, it's a fatass run, so it's free, and that's as cheap as it gets, unless you're getting paid to run.

3. The Views.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words...

Was this picture taken from near the highest of the 7 peaks surrounding Big Bear Lake during the 1st Annual San Sugar G Falls Fatass Run?  Maybe.

Was this picture taken from the highest peak in the San Bernadino Mountains towards the end of the 1st Annual San Sugar G Falls Fatass Run? Is that Big Bear Lake peeking through the mountains?? Come find out!

4. The Peaks.  This run climbs two peaks.  Sugarloaf and San Gorgonio.  Sugarloaf is 9,952 feet tall and San G is 11,503 feet tall, making them, respectively, the highest peak in the 7 peaks surrounding  Big Bear Lake, and the highest peak in Southern California. The names of these peaks may or may not be major contributors to the naming of this fatass run.

5. The Variation.  The Strava Data shows this run as 38.8 miles, but I would hazard a guess that there is actually something here for everyone!

Don't wanna run 39 miles? Cut out at Hwy 38 & Heart Bar for a 15 miler.

Don't wanna climb Sugarloaf?  Then don't.  It's an out-and-back section off the longer point-to-point course.  You can go straight from the saddle down Wild Horse trail to Heart Bar at Hwy 38.

39 is too short? Jason has a 50 mile and a 100k version up his sleeve for next year.

There's a lot of good trail to be had.  Show up to blow up, dude!

6. The Backcountry.  Tired of your life in an office cube? Feeling the need to experience the real backcountry, and not that park that's behind your house where you do laps and run by that homeless guy that kind of smells like urine sleeping under his shopping cart?  Never been somewhere with mountain lions and bears?

If so, then this is your jam. You can experience the rush of being isolated from society without having to go to Angola, or the Eastern Sierras or whatever.

It's wild and beautiful and makes you take it seriously because it can be hot, it can be cold, there can be mountain lions and/or bears and sometimes they fight each other for ultimate supremacy of the mountain.  That's real backcountry and that's where this run takes place.

7. The Trail.  The trail is awesome.  It starts at Hatchery & Hwy 38 and immediately starts climbing, treating you to views like this:

Sunrise while climbing Sugarloaf.

And this:

It's wild and it's horsey.

The trail is made up of rocky fire trail, smooth fire trail, steep, rocky single track, smooth rolling single track, switchbacks, rollers, lakes, streams, saddles, peaks, valleys and campgrounds.  Once you top on on Sugarloaf, you head back down the ridge to the saddle where you turned up to make the climb, instead of heading North to Big Bear Lake, you head South down Wild Horse trail.  A rolling single track descent of the ridge from Sugarloaf.

Wild Horse!

Fun and runnable, it deposits you out onto Hwy 38 near Heart Bar Campground, where you begin the climb up to the San G summit.  The climb up to the San G summit is a mix of fire trail, sandy creek bottom, winding single track, and alpine single track.

Alpine on the climb!

It finally descends from the peak down to Forest Falls (the final portion of the run's name...if you haven't figured that part out yet) showcasing terrain from above-tree-line lunar surface to sunset lit transitional ridges to lower valley creeks and trees.

Lunar Landing.

Sometimes you have to say, "No more stopping to take pictures of this sunset that keeps getting better and better, because we need to finish at some point, and our ride is waiting."

That's a tree with a hollow space in the middle that a dude can stand in.  In case you can't see the picture.

The trail: amazing, runnable, tough, and fun.

And there you have it.  7 reasons to get out there and run it with us next year.  Did that answer all of your questions?  Let's review:

What is it?
It's a fatass run (ie you don't pay us, or anyone else, except maybe the forest service to get your San G Permit) that starts at Hatchery Rd. and Hwy 38 near Big Bear Lake, CA.  It climbs Sugarloaf Mountain and San Gorgonio Mountain, and ends in Forest Falls.

Why should I run it?
That is literally what this entire blog post was about.

Are there really 7 reasons?
Yes.  The above reasons are numbered 1-7.

Or did he just pick the number 7 first and try to make up a bunch of reasons to match? Did he shoot for 10 but not make it?
No comment.

When is it gonna be??
As of now, it's looking like mid-October, 2015.  We're gonna try to schedule it around the local ultramarathons, but that's tough/impossible, so compromises will be made.

I can tell that you're hyped about this run after seeing all those sweet pics and glossing over my mediocre prose.  That's good, because I am stoked! I can't wait to get back out there and finalize at least 3 more courses over 3 more distances.  It'll be a tough sacrifice involving lots of trail time, gorgeous views, and probably some pooping in the woods, but I'm committed.  I'm gonna do it so that the 2nd Annual San Sugar G Falls Fatass Run will be as epic as promised (super fucking epic).

In 2014, we had a great day out there running in the mountains and scouting the course for 2015.  Matt, one of the RDs for Kodiak 100 and 3rd place finisher at Chimera 100 in 2014 (nice work dude!), met us at Heart Bar with a water drop and some snacks...big ups!  Also, Jason's sister in-law, Darleene, gave us a ride from Forest Falls back up to Big Bear where my car was parked...more big ups!  In 2015,we plan to have some informal aid and water drops set up around the mountain to help everyone have an epic day on the trails.

Stoke up!

Race Report: 2014 Red Rock 50 Miler

This past Sunday, I headed down from San Luis Obispo, where I enjoyed a delicious few days of Thanksgiving vacation, to the Santa Barbara mountains to race in the Santa Barbara Red Rock 50.  I was hemming and hawing on whether or not to hit this race up because I'm in the midst of a mileage build-up to the Sean O'Brien (SOB) 100k in February, but I eventually bit the bullet and signed up.   It's a gorgeous and tough course (claimed 15.8kft. of climbing and descent!  Shut up legs!), so with a little peer pressure from my friend Victoria, it wasn't a hard sell.

Training
 
I have a pretty solid base of mileage built up from a 100-miler earlier this fall, so after I recovered from that race, I began building up mileage again in a less-than-structured way.   I dabbled with some speed and hill climbing work, but had lots of rest days and my total weekly mileage wasn't where I wanted it to be.  After I ran the first and last 20 miles of the Red Rock course with some buddies about a month and a half ago, I decided to write up a schedule for SOB and get some weekly mileage goals on the books.  I hit some 60+ mile weeks with some solid climbing and was feeling good about my training.  The Red Rock 50 was not included in this plan, but when I took the plunge, I was confident that I wouldn't destroy myself, though I think I came into the race a little over-trained.

Lead-Up

Early on race week, my legs felt blown from a hard week of running the week before, so I took Monday off and went easy on Tuesday &Wednesday to let the legs feel better.  I wanted to run on Thanksgiving, but decided to rest until the race instead (drinking a bunch of beer for 2 days counts as resting, right?).  I guess this 'rest' didn't do me any favors, because I woke up on Saturday feeling super congested with a runny nose and sore throat.  Total bummer.

Not one to be waylaid by some minor health issues, I had a pint of Enjoy By (12/26 if you're wondering) with my SLO hosts on the way out of town, accompanied by a delicious Firestone Grill Tri-Tip Sandwich.  Excellent pre-race food!

When I arrived at Rancho Oso, the privately owned horse camp/ranch camp that the race was to start/finish at, I was greeted by cheers coming from up the hill where the beer mile was finishing up.  I was disappointed that I had missed it, but I later learned that it's a fixture at all of Luis' races, so I plan to be around for the next one.  Luis Escobar, the race director, runs a handful of races in So Cal and all of them are low key, fun, and minimal events.  Highly recommended if you enjoy the backcountry, chill people, and a focus on fun times and hard running.  Good shit.

There's a lot to be said about all the pre-race activities at Red Rock, but by far the coolest was the 4-person guitar jam session that broke out after the pre-race meeting.  The vibe of chilling with other runners, talking running, and listening to yet more runners showcase their non-running talents on the guitars was amazing.  Great way to set up a positive attitude for race day!

Race Day

The race start was at 6am, so I woke up around 3:45 to make coffee and get some food going.  I was feeling pretty exhausted, but I think that after the coffee kicked in, I felt OK.  Another, identical pre-race meeting was held at 5:45am and the race started immediately afterwards.  Hilariously (?) as soon as the runners were sent to the starting line, it started raining.  Victoria says about Red Rock every year, "It's just gonna be a horrible day." Because it's a long, hard 50 miler.  Haha, maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy!  I decided to start calling it 'the best day of my life' after Luis told us it would probably be the worst day of our lives (tongue in cheek, of course).  Somehow, in the middle of a hands-on-knees-steep climb to Montecito Peak to get our finishers medallions, everyone that I asked, "Best day of your life!?" seemed to agree that it was.

Anyway, we finally took off around 6:15am into the rain.  I was mid-pack, but decided that I should go out hard to get a good spot on the single track.  This proved to be a good call because I ended up in a group of guys who were all around or a little faster than my race pace, and I only got passed by 2 dudes in this section.  The downside of going out hard is that I had to make a concerted effort to get my heart rate back down to where I wanted it to be, and this meant slowing down, which never feels good in a race, at first.  But it had to be done.

The first aid station is 6.5 miles in, or so, and I rolled in, filled up a bottle with Tailwind and cruised out.  For the last few races, I've been trying to figure out my nutrition, and I think I may have finally gotten it dialed in.  200 cal/hour of Tailwind (1 sleeve in a 24 oz. bottle), supplemented by a gel or aid station food as necessary to get to between 250 and 300 cal/hr.  It's worked on a couple of fatass runs of up to 40 miles and this race...so far, so good!

From this station, the runners follow a paved road to where it turns to fire trail and then to single track and back to fire trail.  This section was uneventful and I chatted with a fellow runner Kathleen and cruised into the mile 11 aid station with no news to report.  By this time, the runners were pretty strung out along the course, so I ended up with 2 people who were running the marathon and no 50-milers.

The next section of the race consists of about 8 or 9 miles of mostly single-track rollers ending in a 1200 foot climb up to the high point on the course.  It started raining relatively hard, and at times I couldn't help but have a big, fat grin on my face about what an adventure this race was becoming.  I put on arm warmers and gloves under a tree, and flipped my hat forward to keep the water out of my eyes.  I had my first of a couple 'this is why I run' moments before turning up towards the big climb where I looked out over the valley and noticed that all of the leaves on the trees by the river were bright yellow, which created this awesome contrast of a long, snaking, vibrant yellow swath down the valley against the sage greens and browns of the mountains rising up above the trees.  Gorgeous!  

When I turned up the towards the climb, the dirt turned to clay, and portions of the course got super slick.  I had trekking poles with me for 'The Big Climb' (yet to come), so I cracked them out and used them for traction and power up this section.  I hiked about 98% of this climb as part of my race strategy and ended up at the top more-or-less in good shape, ready to tackle the 3000 ft. descent and climb that lay ahead.  More Tailwind into the bottles and I took off.

I'm an OK descender, as normal runners go (my elite friends blow my doors off on the descents!), but I knew that 3000 ft. over 6 miles would take its toll, so in turn, I took the descent at a less-than-breakneck speed.  At Red Rock, Luis makes you earn your finisher's medallion (without it, you can't get a time!) by doing 'something', and this year it involved leaving the Cold Springs trail and climbing a use-trail up to Montecito Peak.  This trail was steep, but luckily not slippery.  At the top were waiting Pat and Amy with the medallions laid out, and some Fritos.  Amy asked if I wanted to leave a note, so I left two for some of my buddies who were behind me.  I got my medallion, which was a handcrafted ceramic medallion on a neck-cord, and started down the hill.  It's worth noting that normally, this peak provides an amazing view of Santa Barbara and the ocean, but today, the fog/clouds were dense and all that could be seen was white.  I ended up descending pretty much the whole hill with a woman, Jade, who I learned was doing her 1st 50 miler (hell of a first 50!).  She was super chill and was a great conversation buddy for the descent and, as it turns out, pretty much the whole climb too.  As we hit about the halfway point on the descent, we started to be able to see the ocean and city, and the sun started to come out!  This provided some amazing views, which made it hard to concentrate on some of the more technical sections of the trail, which at times was super rocky.  I could feel the descent slowly battering my quads and hips but by the time I hit the bottom, I wasn't feeling as bad as I thought that I might!  I filled up the Tailwind, ate some grilled cheese sando, stretched the piriformis muscles and hamstrings and took off for the climb back up the hill.

The whole course is a big out-and-back, so I knew exactly what lay ahead.  After fastpacking the John Muir Trail (JMT) in 8 days this year, I was pretty accustomed to power-hiking 3000-4000 ft. climbs with trekking poles, and this climb fit right into the JMT category, minus about 9,000 feet of total elevation.  I was surprised, but I topped out only about an hour and 40 minutes later (back in the clouds...) and not too tired, but definitely feeling the 31 miles that I had on my legs at that point.  I munched down on some grilled cheese, thanked the volunteers and took off.

My race strategy was as follows: be conservative for 30 miles, then start evaluating whether I should start hammering.  Well, 'hammering' being a relative term for me in an ultramarathon, I decided to treat the last 20 miles like I was on a 20 mile training run.  I rolled the descents smoothly without holding much back, hiked the uphills, and tried to remain comfortable on the flats.  8 miles later, I had seen 1 guy briefly as I passed him, and my legs were starting to feel pretty uncomfortable, so I resorted to a tactic that I've never used before: the iPod shuffle.

Around mile 39, I cracked out the shuffle because I was feeling like I needed a boost after running pretty much alone for the last 8 miles.  My legs were feeling battered, I was a little lonely, and the clouds were still holding out and keeping the lighting flat.  On the rare occasion that I run with music, my go-to tunes are electro dance jams, and the thumping 4-on-the-floor beats are just what I needed to pick me up.  Head bopping to the beat, I finished out the climb into the mile 40 aid station in high spirits, filled up the last of my Tailwind and headed for home.  This meant a fire trail descent into the valley by the Gibralter Dam, the climb out, and then some descending to the paved portion of the course.  Somewhere in here, the sun was setting under the clouds, and creating amazing 'golden hour' shadows and contrasts on the mountains, ridges, and spines.  It was another amazing 'this is why I run' moment, facilitated by some uplifting music.  The music was helping, as were the amazing views, but my legs were fatiguing and feeling more and more uncomfortable.  I was close to the point where I was ready to be done.

At the mile 44-ish aid station, I filled only water, ate some potatoes, and headed out to what I consider one of the hardest sections of the course for me.  I figured that  gel was in order, because I was out of tailwind and had a solid amount of time on my feet to go, so I cracked one out and chomped it down, almost to have it come right back up.  I guess the potatoes weren't done doing their thing yet...haha.  So that ended my nutrition for the run.  That last 6.5 miles traverse 3 or 4 ridges with the associated climbs and descents into the crooks of the valleys between.  There's a lot of varying up and down and changing muscle of groups which is never fun in the late stages of an ultra!  Luckily, the music, plus seeing a runner about a half mile up gave me a boost and I was able to make it to the final fire trail descent, which ends with about a mile to go.  I caught the runner in front of me with about 2 miles to go while rolling the descent, and she was struggling with some IT band issues.  We started chatting and I ended up running with her all the way in including putting on headlamps because we were just about 15 minutes too late to make it in without them. It was awesome to share the final miles and finish with someone after running for so long with nothing but my thoughts (and some sweet tunes!).  We rolled into the finishing area and high-fived after taking a seat on one of the picnic benches.  I clocked in at 11:19:46.

Post-Race

This race was brutal!  My legs were toast and I was zombie-walking immediately.  2 days later and I am still feeling it!  I tried hard to walk the line of going fast, but not blowing up or having to death march into the finish.  Luis warned us that this is not a course to PR on (which, if you look at the elevation profile, is a no-brainer), and indeed I did not PR, but I am pretty stoked on my finish.  Also, they had pumpkin pie, burritos, chile, and other delicious fare at the finish line, which was delightful after not eating anything for the last hour or so.  After I put on some warm clothes, I pulled up a chair with what seemed like a lively group (turned out to be Crista, Pat, Bobby and Michelle, a merry tribe of self-proclaimed Dirtbag Runners) and ended up shooting the shit with them and cheering in runners for another 3 or 4 hours.  Just an amazing end to an amazing day!

I highly recommend coming out to the Red Rock 50 and bringing an awesome attitude, a chair, and some beer to share (and some Fireball if you're feeling aggressive...it will not go unappreciated)!

Race/Game/Run Report: 2014 Coyote Cohort Backbone Ultra

*OLD POST*

This is one of a handful of race/run reports that I wrote before I started this blog.

This past weekend, I ran the Coyote Cohort Backbone Ultramarathon, a 68-mile trail run in the Santa Monica Mountains in California with ~14,000 ft. of climbing. It was brutal at times, but also amazing at times, as I’m gathering that many ultramarathons are, and overall an extremely well organized, staffed, and executed event.

Training

I raced the North Face Endurance Challenge 50-Miler in San Francisco (Marin) in December as my first ultramarathon race. Afterwards, I was set on not wasting the fitness and base that I had built up that I feel like sometimes happens with drawn out recovery times that are easy to get sucked into. So instead, I plotted out a week of almost no mileage, and began to easily ramp up mileage into hitting full steam in the 2nd week of January. This somewhat worked out, but a drawn out stomach illness killed almost a whole week of what should have been epic vacation training during Christmas time, but I made up for it with 5 days running in the not-so-snow-covered Yosemite over new years.

Upon returning to the real world after the holidays, my plan was pretty simple: get a long run on Saturdays. Back-to-back the run with a decent run on Sundays, tempo Monday, hill repeats Wednesday, and fill in the rest as necessary. This all worked pretty well, but traveling and skiing got in the way of weekend training a lot, and when there’s only really 8 weeks of training, 3 or 4 off weekends means that runs got moved around and the back-to-backs suffered. I felt OK about this, however, because I was still coasting on fitness from the 50, my weekly mileage was still above 50, and my weekly vert was at least in the thousands of feet.

I’d like to say that I topped out with a 35 mile run, but it was kind of a failed run with about 15 miles of death marching. Still haven’t figured out why it went bad. I did the same run minus 5 miles about 2 months ago and smoked it, so I guess it was some combo of nutrition, poor recovery from skiing, and heat. Quads were shot and my body just didn’t want to move...terrible run! This was 3 weeks out from the race. Already at that point I was feeling a little burnt out on running in general: motivation wasn’t there, runs were a chore. So when I had this terrible run, I took the next 2 days off completely and plotted how to get 1 last good set of runs in 2 weeks out from the race. Then the weather report came out that Mammoth Mountain was about to get dumped on, and in the same day, my friend called and asked if I wanted to go, so I took it as a sign: ditch the running and go get some POW! I ran Tuesday/Wednesday that week for a total of 24 miles (6 and 18) and then took off on Thursday afternoon for the mountains. Epic snow and ski session, and my I felt like my mind was back in the game for...more skiing. The next weekend was 6 days off Thursday thru Tuesday for a long planned ski vacation. I got 12 miles in that week. When I returned from this vacation, I immediately hopped on a plane to a conference in Alabama on a red-eye, and returned on the day before the race...I was pretty exhausted! I did not put on my running shoes until race day.

Race Day

So the title says Race/Game/Run Report. The run is billed as a fun run/game: you can earn ‘bonus’ points and/or ‘boner’ points for doing cool/stupid stuff during the run. I don’t know what you have to do be get ‘boner’ points (probably being a jerk) but from what I gathered, ‘bonus’ points come from entertaining aid station volunteers or doing other cool, interesting, or noteworthy things. These points are then converted into time subtraction or addition onto your actual run time. So it’s kind of like a race with some twists.

The race has a 2-wave start. The first wave was at 6am, the second wave was a 9am. I was in the second wave, so I showed up at the finish at 7am where I would get my number, packet, and a large hardcover book (P.D. James’ “A Certain Justice”), which I learned that I was supposed to carry with me, ostensibly to read to the aid station volunteers while they filled up water, etc. That was new, but I was in for all the fun and games, so it went into the vest along with the 5 gels, 5 sleeves of Clif Bloks, 3 bags of calorie drink, 25 salt caps, 2 water bottles and 2-liter camelbak reservoir. I planned the nutrition to get me to mile 25, where my first drop bag would be located. Like the 50-miler, I had planned on about 400 cal/hour between all these goodies and whatever I decided looked good at the aid stations. At 7:45, they bussed us down to the start.

After a brief message and some kind words, they sent us off immediately up a big climb. During the last 6-months, I had run the 68 miles of this race in its entirety in a series of out-and-back runs, so I was at least familiar with the course, and knew not to get ahead of myself. At 9am, it was already in the 60s and heating up quickly.

The race features 3 major climbs all of which occur in the first 30 miles, and 3 major descents, 2 of which occur in the first 30 miles. Combined with the knowledge that it would be potentially in the 90s during the day and my strategy was to keep my pace conservative until the 3 climbs were over and then assess my status.

The first climb was uneventful. I actually got passed by all but maybe 3 or 4 of the 20-ish person starting group (the first starting group had maybe 120 people?) immediately, but I was feeling OK with my strategy so I tried to just motor on. I ended up in a group of 4 people, the other 3 of which were all serious ultramarathoners. They were swapping stories about Ultra Mont-Blanc and other races while I hung on in the rear. Eventually I met them all by name and ran with them until about mile 12 when we separated at the first aid station.

At that point, I filled up water/calorie drink, ate some watermelon, and cruised off towards the next climb (the section of trail that the dreadful 35-miler occured on). By this time, it was heating up a bit, and the climb started to seem like it was going to be brutal. My stomach wasn’t too happy about the gel bloks, and water didn’t seem to be helping. About half a mile in, however, I crossed a ridge and all of a sudden there was a breeze. My heart rate dropped by about 15 BPM almost immediately and I felt immensely better. The rest of the climb was conservative and went well. I got to the top and the next aid by 1pm, pretty close to my target pace of 5mph.

I was offered a shot of Jameson in celebration of St. Patty’s Day in the station, but I politely declined; my stomach probably would have not had any of that business. I was super pumped up from the aid station and the friendly volunteers and cold drink, so I took off up the trail towards the turnoff to the next descent.

This descent is burly. I’ve run in a few times and it never gets easier. It’s technical in a lot of sections, steep, and relentless; about 2300 ft. down over 6 miles with a slight rise in the middle. I made sure to take it conservatively, but even at a slow jog or hike, the heat was like a blow dryer. I’ve watched ‘Running on the Sun’ and I know they use the exact phrase ‘blow dryer’ to describe running in 130 degree heat, so I felt like a whiny bitch thinking that 90 degrees was hot, but nonetheless, it was freaking hot and I was baking. Luckily, there’s some shade on the trail at times, so there was some relief. I made it to the bottom of the major climb portion and passed the first few people of the day. The heat was taking its toll on other runners too.

At the bottom of the hill at mile 25 is an aid station with drop bags. I filled up Heed and water with ice, ate some food and snagged my headlamp from the drop bag. I read a bit to the aid station volunteers and then took off for the crux climb of the course. This climb is steep and often exposed, and is all shitty, wide-open fire trail and occurs right in the hottest section of the day. Right at the bottom of the last descent, I was caught up to my another runner from my wave (who I would later learn is an excellent descender and overall ultramarathon badass, from her UltraSignup profile) and we started the climb together. We ended up climbing the whole thing together and I found out that she had lost her voice from being sick and she was hacking and coughing...probably why she was hanging with me and not smoking the course, haha. I was feeling pretty bad at this point. My stomach was not happy, but I was forcing calories into it, the temperature was hot, and there were 40+ miles to go, so I had both the physical and mental game working against me. Just about the only thing going for me is that I was dumping ice water on myself and my heart rate was staying low.

At the top of this climb is some rolling steep hills into the next aid. Only maybe 5 miles from the last aid. And they had popsicles and quesadillas! I didn’t have a dilla, but a damn sure ate a popsicle and it was delicious! Additionally, they were bumping some grungy reggae from the stereo. Awesome. When I got filled up and snagged some M&Ms and a PayDay bar, I was out the door with my buddy from the climb. Most of the course is single or double track with some shorter fire-road sections in between. Here, the single track re-started, and it gets fun! Winding, not too steep in either direction, down through valleys, over ridges, with trees, bushes, shrubs, next to creek beds, up canyon walls...all just great trail running. Combine that with the cooling temps and I started to feel a little better! It was still light out, maybe 5pm, and I was starting to enjoy myself, but was still pretty wary of what lay ahead: 38 more miles. I took a silly fall on a butter-smooth single track by catching my toe on an almost non-existent rock, but the injuries were a scrape of the hand and knee...not a big deal. The next aid came and was water-only, so I filled up and running badass lady and I took off. More excellent single track went along into the dusk and then dark and my legs started to feel better and better. The next aid was 6 miles up and we made it there with no major issues. A couple of my buddies were waiting about half a mile out and ran in with us. They had a chair set up and were ready with Red Bull and calorie drink. I tried to snack on a burrito at the aid station, but it was a little heavy for me, so I passed it off to my buddy and got back on the trail for more epic single track, this time in the dark.

The lights of the city/late dusk highlighted the mountain ridges and the full moon was rising in the sky...it was amazing. The single track climbed steadily up to a fire road that would connect us to the next single track section. Overall a really nice climb because it wasn’t brutally steep as it had been earlier. On the fire road, I saw ahead what I thought was the headlamps of 2 conferring runners. But they blinked out, and then blinked back on a few feet away and I knew immediately what it was: a mountain lion! I kept my lamp on it (about 50 yards away I would guess) and it ran up the near-cliff wall of the fire trail and I watched it’s bushy tail disappear into the bushes. I kept looking up and seeing it’s eyes gleaming back at me, until they stopped appearing anymore as we moved on. Just in case, I picked up fist-sized rock, not that it would do much good against a big cat, but it felt nice to have anyway. I continued to check back over my shoulder and even walked backwards with my buddy guiding me for some way, just to be sure it wasn’t stalking us, but it didn’t want to come hang out with us as much as we didn’t want to hang out with it, so all was good in the nighttime trail running world.

The next 5 miles were a mile of fire trail and 4 miles of single track which was, again, really gorgeous trail. My running buddy was starting to feel pretty bad from being sick, and suggested that I go on, but I told her I’d run into the next aid with her. She’s tough as nails and wasn’t going to quit, but she wanted me to run my best race. I believe the words I used to describe her to her face were ‘Stone Cold Badass’. She’s definitely an inspiration to get out there and smash trail!

The next aid station I got a great surprise. A few more of my buddies unexpectedly came out to cheer! They surprised me on the trail before the aid station and then ran in with me and hung out while I resupplied. It’s such a mental boost to have an unexpected pleasant occurrence! They aren’t much for running, but their support and good vibes was amazing! This aid station was at mile 51, and I was surprised how good my legs felt! My pace was much slower than the last 50-miler I raced, so that’s probably why, but I was calculating how hard I could hammer for the rest of the race anyway. There was 1 steep and short climb left, and one slightly longer but not very steep one.

I said peace out to my buddies and the woman who I had been running with and mashed up towards the climb. It’s really not that long, but it felt shitty. I was running solo now, which lead me to question whether or not I had been getting a mental boost from my running buddy. I decided that it was just the hill talking and didn’t think about it again. At the top of the climb, I stretched briefly to relieve some of the tension in my hamstrings and calves, which had, except for a few brief twangs, felt unbelievably good all day. I then headed off down the trail which soon levels off into slight ups and downs along the ridge until the final larger descent which is about 5 miles of descending and 2400 ft. down. I had passed 2 people since the last aid station who looked OK, but sounded grumpy when I talked to them. I think they were feeling the heat from earlier. I hit the descent, which I have been down maybe 3 or 4 times in training, and started cruising. The game plan was to hike anything steep and run anything else. When I said that my ‘legs felt good’ in the aid station, I meant it, but it was a relative term. They felt pretty fresh and did not hurt, but they were definitely still beat up. Trying to run the steeps, even though there was ‘only’ 15 miles left to go, wasn’t going to happen. I must have been doing something OK, because I started passing a lot of people from the 6am wave. I said hi to everyone, and a lot of people responded in a pretty chipper manner, but some were beat down and not happy. I was never really sure what to say other than, ‘hang in there, dude!’ I’ve been that smoked before and it’s not fun.

The descent consisted of 2 parts: the Chamberlain Trail and the Blue Canyon trail. The Chamberlain Trail comes down to a ridge, and the Blue Canyon trail leaves the ridge and dips into a valley towards the aid station. Chamberlain Rock is this split rock on the trail, and I had heard that new runners of the race are supposed to climb through the crack and be ‘rebirthed’ without our sins. I know that sounds like it has religious overtones, but they call it ‘Butt Rock’ and how the ‘Butt will cleanse your sins’, so I’m not so sure they have any kind of motivation other than being kooky and fun. Either way, I took of the vest, climbed through with minimal damage and then finished the Chamberlain trail. By the time I got to the bottom of Blue Canyon, however, the inside of my right knee had started to hurt, almost like a pulled muscle. I was super worried that here, 10 miles from the finish, that I was gonna have to walk it in. After about a minute of walking though, I gave up on that stupid idea and started running again. The pain went away and didn’t return and I cruised into the aid station at a respectable clip.

This is the last aid station, about 8 miles from the finish, and it’s in the bottom of a valley, so while everywhere else had been a nice 60-65 degrees, it was down in the high 40s or 50s here. I was soaked in sweat in lycra shorts and a running shirt. By the time I had filled my water and eaten some potato and salt, I was freezing. I took off fast, too fast, in order to try and warm up. The valley is a nice false-flat downhill, and I was pushing hard to stop chattering from the cold. I knew it was only about 2 miles or less to the trailhead to climb up the hill and out of the cold air. This hurt, and I paid for it. By the time I started climbing, my legs were very unhappy with me. The climb is 2 miles or so, but only about 700 ft. up and I did the whole thing by full moon light! This was a small victory, because I felt cashed and knew it was gonna be a sufferfest because of that 2 mile push through the valley. The singletrack climb finished and dumps out onto a rolling fire road that traverses the ridge to the final single track descent of just under 3 miles. I met a lady at the top of the climb and we hiked together for a while, but when the fire road turned downhill and I tried to run, she actually did run and I got left. The legs felt like they had gas left in them, but the pain made it tough to string together long sections of running. I finally ran/walked my way to about a mile to go, and ran the rest in to feel like I finished strong. It was 3:20am.

Post Race

After the race, I sat down in a chair and had a cup of ice water. I put on a jacket and pants and put my head in my hands for maybe 10 minutes before my running buddy came cruising in! She looked pretty good, but I bet she was glad to be done.

I went over to another chair by a fire pit and fell asleep for 2 hours. When I woke up at 5:30 I was cold and ready to get in my sleeping bag, which was a solid quarter mile away in my car. Ugh. I got up to walk and 2 dudes, Willy and Pete, helped me get myself together. When I got too dizzy to walk, I sat on the ground and Pete got me a pancake. I instantly felt better and we walked the rest of the way to the car, which Willy had offered to move a little closer to the park gate. I slept for another 2 hours and drove home...pretty much slept on and off the whole day...what a day!

Thoughts

I was really pissed off at myself for running so hard in the valley at the end. It wrecked me and I finished feeling awful. If I could go back, I would have snagged a shell and/or arm warmers from my crew at the mile 51 aid station and been able to handle the cold. This would have helped me immensely and maybe I wouldn’t have hammered so hard.

Otherwise, I feel like I executed close to perfectly. I kept it conservative in the heat and I’m glad I did. I hiked when I needed and ran when I could and was really happy with how I felt towards the end of the race, minus the last 5 miles or so. What I need to work on is my climbing. I’ve been working on it hard, but I live in the flats, and there’s just no substitute for getting out into the mountains every day. Moving is on my to-do list, pending real life agreeing with it.

My GPS watch died about the time that I started running on the final mile or so, which was lame because the Garmin 310XT claims a 20 hour battery life, so it should have had at least an hour left on it...bummed but oh well.

Nutrition

As I said before, I was shooting for 400 cal/hour. It’s a lot. My stomach was pissed off at me a lot, but surprisingly, I think the Gel Bloks were the culprit on this day. Once I switched to gels only I felt
great less bad. If I hadn’t been traveling the day before, I may have tried to make some bean and rice burritos or something to change it up, but overall, I think the gels will be in the plan for the future.

I took a SaltStick cap just about every 30 min. This was necessary. I drank 8 2-liter camelbaks, and about 14-16 water bottles of either water or water with calorie drink/heed. I don’t know exactly how many bottles because one of the bottles (CamelBak podium chill insulated bottle) was an almost dedicated dousing bottle during the hot portions of the day.

I had bits and pieces of aid-station fare: watermelon, orange slice, pretzel, potato, M&M, etc. but most of my calories were either Gu or Hammer Gel. The Hammer Gel was race provided, and I have to say that I may try it out some more. I really enjoyed it and it sat well in my stomach, even though the packet opening system was a failure and often resulted in almost gagging on the stem of the bag trying to get purchase with my teeth to squeeze the gel out!

I think that’s it. Lemme know if you have questions, comments, thoughts about my training/racing strategies. I’m always interested to hear what other runners have to say!