Race Report: Sage Burner 50K

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I found out about the Sage Burner 50K by scouring some trail racing calendars looking for something to do in June. This seemed like a perfect fit. Reasonably close to home, and at 31 miles a chance to try a ‘sprint’ distance ultramarathon. The plan was to give this a real race effort vs. the training/practice I have been doing at the other recent events I’ve done.

I had some reservations about making the trip down for a first year race like this one. The course map revealed a vast spiderweb of trails with names like tail pipe, top-of-the-world, dirty sock, enchanted forest, skull pass, sea of sage, and rattlesnake that would be used in the Hartman Rocks Recreation Area near Gunnison, CO. I was worried about how they could ever mark a course like that well enough to keep everyone on track. It seemed like a tall order, and I really didn’t want to run around lost all day.

I signed up several weeks in advance, and made all of the necessary arrangements. Then some stuff came up on the Monday before the race weekend that looked like it would make the trip a no-go. That was fine, sometimes life happens when you have other plans… As a result, I put some extra effort into my training during the week - thinking that I wouldn’t be racing. I ran hard on Tuesday, Wednesday, and again on Friday morning - and then things worked out on Friday afternoon so I would be able to go to the race after all. My son Malcolm and I packed up the car in about 30 minutes and were on the road at 7:30 Friday evening. We hit the Gunnison KOA and had the tent set up just before midnight.

Four hours later we were awakened by the sound of 1,000,000,000,001 birds competing against one another to see who could chirp the loudest before dawn.

We broke camp and drove the short distance to the race start. I tested the climbing prowess of my Pontiac Vibe by driving up the steep dirt road called ‘Kill Hill’ to scope out the lay of the land. We found some course markers and it looked like everything was ready to go. I was looking forward to getting started!

View from the start, looking away from the course

As I was jogging around to loosen up a little, I bumped into Dave from Boulder whom I had met in Fruita. It was nice to see him there and we wished each other good luck. It was Dave’s first attempt at a race this long. He did great!  Check out his report here.

I did my best to get Malcolm set up for the time he would have to spend waitng for me - talk about an ultramarathon! He would have to spend all morning on his own. I made sure he had the keys to the car, my cell phone, water, food, chair, etc., etc. He was a super good sport about it and I was very happy that he wanted to make the trip with me. He has already said he wants to go back and run the 25K next year.

Being a first year race, the numbers were fairly small (66 total between the 25K and 50K), but the talent and ability of those I was standing next to at the start was immediately obvious. I recognized a few from other races I have done and knew they were very fast and strong. I felt quite humbled by the prospect of being there to try and ‘race’, but that’s the next step I’m taking in my evolution as an ultrarunner. I no longer have the ever present fear of not being able to finish an ultra like I had last season. I have been training super consistently and am very well coached. I’m thin on raw talent and speed, but am trying to make up for that with good technique, efficiency, proper fueling, hard work, strength, and my ability to quickly recover. Time to start pushing it a little bit, take my lumps, then take what I learn and keep trying to improve.

Typical terrain

It wasn’t really that cold, but I was shivering violently while the last minute instructions were given and couldn’t wait to just start running and warm up. The route quickly funneled into singletrack and started climbing. I felt terriible. My legs were like cement and I was gasping for air. The altitude was only 8,000’, and I usually don’t have any problems, but I sure was breathing unusually hard. I was starting too fast, and I knew it. I just hoped I could hang on for a while and settle down. Being mixed in with the 25K runners was a bit of a challenge, they are running half the distance so can afford to push it a little harder. It is a fairly common practice to start all of the distances together, and dealing with it is something I need to get better at. On a very long, rocky, singletrack climb I found myself leading a train of about a dozen runners. I was digging a whole lot deeper than I wanted to, pushing my heart rate to 170 and beyond, but didn’t want to give up my spot and then have to try and work my way through the traffic again (optimistically thinking I would feel better on the descent).

My legs and lungs were downright angry, and I finally had to relinquish my position and start letting people go by after we reached the top. I was in trouble and was having a tough time imagining how I would continue in the state I was in. I hadn’t even made it to the first aid station! Sure, I had gone out too hard - but something more than that was going on. Maybe all of the hard running I had done during the week? Lack of sleep? Terrible diet? The ice bath I took yesterday? Whatever it was, it wasn’t fun. I tried to knock away the negative thoughts and resolved that I would keep going the best that I could, and that I wouldn’t let my frustration get the better of me. I would also make an extra effort to be gracious to the volunteers, and be friendly to those around me on the trail. The beauty with ultrarunning is that having a bad race automatically qualifies as good training. So many things can go wrong, and you can’t really simulate them all in a training situation. Dealing with bad times during a race is an aquired skill that takes practice and experience to develop. If today was one of those days, I was cool with that. My challenge would be to see if I could deal with my issues and pull out of the funk, or have the fortitude (nice word for a mile-wide stubborn streak) to just keep dealing with it to the end.

Coming into aid station #1 I had my first encounter with ‘bike guy’. He was a spectator and/or volunteer that was leapfrogging the runners and would show up at trail intersections and aid stations during the first half of the race. This dude was the Tony Robbins of race spectating. Most people will give you a clap and a cheerful “looking good!”, or “keep it up!”. Not bike guy. He got close to you and in the most sincere voice would say “Man, you are running SO smooth. YOU are going to kill this thing. You are 70% done with this climb. Focus. Stay STRONG. You can DO IT!”, and in 5 seconds would have you believing that you were the best runner he had ever laid eyes on. It was amazing - at one point he even put his hand on my waist pack and gave me a small push up a hill like I was racing the Tour de France or something. Thanks bike guy! I couldn’t help but feel better after our meetings.

Shortly after the 2nd aid station around mile 10, the course split and the 25K runners headed off towards the finsh line. I was hours from the finish, in no man’s land, and still struggling. I finally backed off quite a bit and spent about 30 minutes letting everything settle down and trying to get my act together. I was tired, and my legs were sooo achy! Just before the halfway point we ran down a steeper slope for a while followed by a steep climb that I chose to hike up. It was only 5 minutes or so, but that little hiking break was what finally put me on the road to recovery. I started feeling more like myself and got stronger with each passing mile. Ok, the 2 ½ hours of sucky running was over - time to wind it up and get going!

I felt like I had a new lease on life and wasted no time making the best of it. A runner that had been locked at ¼ mile in front of me for the last hour started getting closer and closer as I ran strongly up the hills. The climbs in this section were perfect for me. Not too steep, and very long. I passed him as he took a walk break and we chatted for a moment, but I was feeling too good to linger. I set my sights on the next runner way off in the distance. It took me a good mile and a half to catch him on a long doubletrack section, but I was able to do it without increasing my effort level at all by running smartly and using some techniques Coach Karl has had me practicing. This was fun!

I got one more as we hit the 20 mile aid station. I had only been filling a bottle at the stations and was totally self sufficient with gels, so my quick stop put me ahead. I put on my iPod for the first time and rocked out as I cruised the trails through the sagebrush, over piles of boulders, and down a nice little canyon. I kept increasing the intensity bit by bit and seemed to be holding up well.

Coming down the canyon I encountered a couple of guys with shovels working on the trail. I didn’t think much of it as we exchanged greetings and I continued. Rounding a bend I was soon immersed in a huge crowd of people all working as a team on repairing erosion damage to the trail. They paused while I went through and gave me a huge cheer as I dodged wheelbarrows, rakes, picks, and shovels. Kids were clapping, dogs were barking, they made me feel like a superstar! What a fantastic group! I waved and thanked them profusely for the cheers and for the great work they were doing on the trails. The first Saturday in June is designated as National Trails Day and they were out in force to take care of their little slice of heaven. I’ll be putting in some time doing the same thing this summer.

After a short stretch of pavement, the course switchbacked up a very steep sun-baked hill. I ran up for a few minutes until it became pointless for me to continue, then shifted into a fast hike. I caught up with another runner who was obviously suffering from some painful leg cramps (I’ve felt your pain, brother). I offered him some salt caps, but he had just taken some so I wished him luck and continued on.

I rolled strong over the summit with nobody in sight ahead or behind and fought some wind that had steadily been picking up for the last little while. Soon I made a turn and was cruising down nice singletrack into the final aid station at mile 26. Just another fill of the bottle and I set off to regain all of the elevation I had just lost. The grade was uncomfortable for trying to run fast, but the worst part was looking way out to the horizon line and knowing there wasn’t going to be any relief until you made it all the way to the top. In reality it was a little over a mile, but it felt like 10.

I kicked up the pace even higher after the last aid station and was going for broke. My heart rate for that split averaged 167 which is really high for me that late in a race. Usually my legs are too tired to drive my HR up to that range. They were definitely tired and hurting, but I was pouring it on with all I had. I passed two more runners in this stretch for a total of six since the halfway point, and came within 4 seconds of another at the line. My 5:14 was good for 8th place out of 35 finishers.

Almost done!

The original goal was to break 5 hours, and I was slightly disappointed to miss it by so much, but I was very happy to have pulled out of my problems and put together a strong last half. It was only my second 50K, so I’ll have plenty of chances to improve later on.

Malcolm survived his time waiting for me and we hit Taco Bell for some much needed grub. He had lived on 3 Clif bars while I was running and was eager to get his hands on some tacos! We drove down to the very full and fast running Gunnison River where I waded in thigh deep to cool off the legs. Man, that was some COLD water! I can take a 15 minute ice bath no problem, but could only stand about 90 seconds of the river. It was so painful! After that we raced a few hundred yards back to the car. Me with frozen legs, sandals, and 31 miles of fatigue. Malcolm hopping on one leg to even the score. It was close, but he got me in the final sprint.

C-O-L-D!

Time was killed walking through the shops of Gunnison, spotting a shirt that we just have to get for my horse-loving daughter.

We spent the afternoon hanging out at the park and enjoyed talking with Dave while we waited for the awards ceremony and finisher shirts to be handed out. I badly wished we had more time to spend in the area. A trip out to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison was seriously tugging at my mind.

The Gunnison River drops an average of 43 feet per mile through the entire canyon, making it one of the steepest mountain descents in North America. In comparison, the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon drops an average of 7.5 feet per mile.

We would have to settle for the incredibly scenic drive home over the Continental Divide and through South Park. We stopped on Monarch Pass to strech our legs and take in the view. Then went to Pizza Hut for another ‘recovery’ meal. It was a great time and I was sad to see it end. It won’t be long before Malcolm is waiting on his dad again - after he’s beaten him to the finish line!

Misc Thoughts -

The course:

Hartman Rocks has been a long time host to mountain bike races, and is a great playground for trail oriented activities. One really cool thing is the 50K race was a single giant loop, which is a rare treat for a trail ultra. It was neat to always have new territory ahead. While it wasn’t extreme in nature, I did underestimate the difficulty by a long shot. Especially the first half which was full of very rocky ascents and descents. There was 5,200’ of climbing which was about double what I anticipated. Ha, this is Colorado after all… The course markings were very well done. A combination of signs and ribbons were used to keep you on the right track. According to one of the RDs at the awards ceremony, much of the course design/marking credit goes to Dave Weins - the 5 time Leadville 100 (MTB) race winner and course record holder. Thanks, Dave!

The event:

For a first year event, this was very nicely done. I’m totally happy to have made the last-minute trip down and participated. The entry fees went to a good cause (various Western State College groups), and we were more than happy to pump some funds into the Gunnison economy. Although I only took water, the aid stations looked well stocked and were perfectly spaced. The volunteers were great and very helpful. This race will definitely grow as word of the quality spreads. Nice work, everyone!

Splits:

AS 1 - 4.8mi - 45:40

AS 2 - 10.5mi - 58:12 - 1:43

AS 3 - 15mi - 48:08 - 2:32

AS 4 - 16.5mi - 22:31 - 2:54

AS 5 - 21.3mi - 51:32 - 3:46

AS 6 - 26mi - 49:00 - 4:35

Finish - 39:54 - 5:14

Race Report: Jemez Mountain Trail Runs 50 mile

This is going to be a by-the-numbers race report, because that’s the kind of race it was for me. I had a plan and stuck to it really well. I ended up staying maybe a little too far on the conservative side, which resulted in a slower time than I guessed I would finish in, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

My mileage has been hovering in the mid-50 range for the past several weeks. Not a huge number, but very consistent - and it includes a lot of trail work and focus on climbing. I raced a 50 miler exactly a month ago, and I was probably not 100% recovered going into Jemez because of keeping the training load fairly high, but it was close enough. Especially since I was just using this mostly for training.

My nutrition plan was simple. Take a gel every 25 minutes, a salt cap every 50, and stay on top of my hydration level. The gel only approach has been working great. At my last race I did every 30 minutes, and it was a little too long - so a minor tweak this time around. I loaded my waist pack with 16 gels, and put 14 more in a drop bag for the Pajarito Canyon aid station at mile 28. The only downside is what to do with all of the wrappers, they add up quickly! Putting them in my shorts pocket is no good because after a while they ooze through the fabric and then my shorts are sticking to my thigh - yuck. I’ve tried putting them in one of the pockets of my pack, which worked well, but I hated to give up that storage space. I thought for a while and came up with my first ultra-running mod. I pinned socks on the back of my pack to hold the gel wrappers. The stretchy fabric was perfect for being able to shove the empty packets into and then holding on to them so they wouldn’t bounce out. It worked great!

I took Friday off of work and made the 6 hour drive to Los Alamos getting there in time to attend the pre-race briefing and dinner. The high school cafeteria was packed! The race director mentioned that the race had filled, and the Forest Service granted additional spots, and they had quickly filled as well. I think they said there were 400 runners in total (for the 50 mile, 50k, and half marathon). It was great to get a slideshow preview of the course and hear about the trail conditions. A few inches of snow on the peaks, and lots of fallen trees to climb/jump over. It was evident that there had been a TON of work put into this event.

It was great to meet and get a hug from my new Speedgoat teammate, Olga. And get some last minute words of advice and encouragment from the desert-tanned and very fit looking Coach Karl. It was obvious he’s been getting in the miles and was set for a nice little ‘training run’ of his own. I was excited and ready to take on the challenge.

With a 05:00 start time, the 03:30 wake up call came pretty early. I was already awake, and ready to get going. I made my way to the start, which I had scoped out the night before, and scored a sweet parking spot. In an effort to eliminate the bad blistering I endured at Fruita, I coated my feet in Vaseline and then put on a very thin pair of socks under a thick pair of Smartwools. I grabbed a bite to eat and hung out talking to Mike who I had run with at the Bear 100 last year. One thing I loved about this race is that even though there were 3 distances being offered, the start times were each 1 hour apart. Nice! The 50 milers were the first to go. They announced there were 130 starters and then spun us in a 180 to get us pointed in the correct direction - oops! Off into the darkness we went.

My plan was to take it really easy at the beginning, and generally easy for the whole first 35 miles. Then run it in from there with whatever I had left. Taking it really easy at the start was… really easy. Because I felt blah. I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep, tired legs, or what, but my body didn’t want to move very quickly. That was ok. It didn’t bother me a bit, and I just settled in to a comfortable pace and didn’t get concerned at all when people would pass me.

The first 6 miles were gently rolling and I was able to turn my headlamp off after 30 minutes or so. The trail went thorugh some dry stream beds and some fun contours on the hillside that had me smiling. At around mile 4 I noticed a guy with purple gaiters go running by. Hey, I recognize those! It was Kirk Apt, a very accomplished ultra runner who had come flying by me with half a mile to go at the Fruita 50 miler last month. He ran a very smart race there, with just a 15 minute positive split - compared to my dismal 1 hour. I knew he would be a ‘good wheel to follow’ (in cycling lingo), but resisted the urge to speed up and stay with him. I was going to be running my own race today. It was just as well, I passed him about a mile later while he was adjusting his pack. That was a good lesson to me - breaking out of your own rhythm to run someone else’s pace is rarely a good idea in these events. There are always nature calls to answer, things to adjust, aid station stops, etc. that will make lead changes frequent. If someone is really stronger than you, there isn’t a whole lot you can do about it. You have to run your own race, manage the course, and let it take care of doing the sorting out.

I reached the first aid station (Mitchell Trailhead @ mile 4.9) in 57 minutes. Wow, I really was taking it easy. Karl later told me their lead group reached this point in 32 minutes or something crazy like that. They were hauling! We had climbed a little over 900′ to that point. I topped off my bottle and was on my way in about 30 seconds.

Next up was a 1,500′ climb over 2.2 miles to the next aid station on Guaje Ridge. I was still going really slow, but starting to feel better and better. As soon as the climb got really steep, I could feel blisters forming on the soles of my feet - not again!! My feet were sliding all over inside my shoes. I pulled off the trail and completely retied them, making them snug. That felt so much better that I did it again in another half of a mile. I cranked them down so much that the eyelets were nearly touching! I couldn’t believe it. My feet aren’t that narrow, and I was wearing two pairs of socks! It was time well spent, and although it was touch-and-go at times, I never developed any real blisters.

I arrived at the Guaje Ridge aid station at mile 7.1 in 42 minutes, 1:39 elapsed. Topped off the water bottle again and got ready for the first real descent. Over 1,000′ down into Guaje Canyon. This was a really cool trail. Very narrow, and lots of short switchbacks pasted on to the hillside. It seemed like you would run straight for about 25 feet, then crank a 180 around a hairpin switchback, then repeat over and over. I was now totally warmed up and feeling fine.

There was a gentle climb up the lush canyon bottom where we hopped a small stream several times. It was very pretty in this area, and the running was great. I passed the time chatting with some other runners for a mile or two. Soon we came to a ladder next to a waterfall. I can’t say that I had ever climbed a ladder during a run before. It was a cool addition and the first of many obstacles we would face during the day.

Up you go

Photo credit: Olga Varlamova

Soon we arrived at the Caballo Base aid station (:45 split/2:25 elapsed) and a sign indicating we were facing an 1,800′ climb in 2 miles. I was second in line with a group of 4 or 5 that included Kirk, who had caught back up, and we headed up at a very consistent pace. After a few minutes Nate flew by, then shortly after that was Karl (Kyle had already finished the out-and-back by the time we started). It was only the second time I’ve seen Karl run in person, he levitated down the trail - very cool. As we got closer to the top, there was a steady stream of runners coming down the trail at us. I kept track of the count just for fun. There were also many downed trees laying over the trail that we had to climb over. The volunteers did an outstanding job in clearing much of the trail, but this section was just a little too remote for them this early in the year. They even used llamas to pack water and supplies to the top of the mountain for a small aid station there. As if a 20% slope wasn’t enough to keep us occupied, we were also going through several inches of new snow which made traction a little scarce at times. The trail leveled off for the last little bit to the turnaround at the top of Caballo Mountain which I hit in 56th place (mile 12.1 - :49 split / 3:14 elapsed).

Run to the tree and turn around

Photo credit: Olga Varlamova

Now it was time to have a little fun. I ran fairly casually for the first part of the descent and soon caught up with another runner. She offered to let me by, but I told her I was fine - unless I came rolling by… It was steep! After a minute or two, more runners started to stack up behind us so she stepped aside on a switchback. Now I was leading a train of 5-6 people, time to quit sandbagging and RUN. I was on the very edge of control for much of the descent, leaping logs in full flight, landing on snowy switchbacks, carving the corners, dodging a few rocks and all the time thinking that if I eat it there are going to be about a dozen trail shoe footprints going right up my back. That was fun!

Another quick water stop at the Caballo Base AS, then we continued the climb up the canyon. It was starting to get hot here, and several people were really struggling. I felt pretty good and passed several others. The rolling trail got steeper and steeper as we gained 1,000′ going up the headwall of the canyon finally reaching a nice runnable section with some amazing views into the vast Valle Grande Caldera.

Before I knew it, I was rolling into the Pipeline aid station (mile 17 - 4:24 elapsed). This was a large aid station with many people milling around. True to form, I grabbed some water and was out of there. My energy level was staying just about right so far. Sticking with the plan… A volunteer directed me to two orange flags spaced about 15 feet apart on the edge of a cliff overlooking the caldera. It looked like a launching pad for hang gliders! Unfortunately, I didn’t go very fast on this part. I wasn’t wearing any gaiters over my shoes and the dirt was soft and deep. I was being careful not to load my shoes up with rocks and junk. After the really steep descent it was pretty nice running for the next few miles across the bottom of the caldera. I wish I could have felt a little better to take advantage of it, but I was starting to struggle just a tiny bit. My legs ached something fierce. In fact, they had been waking me up at night for the week before the race because they would just ache so much. I ran the best I could and knew that things would be better if I just pushed through. I hit the Valle Grande aid station (mile 21 - :44 split / 5:08 elapsed), grabbed water and a couple of cookies, then headed through the grass for the cross-country section of the course.

Follow the flags through the grass

Photo Credit: Bill Geist

The grass was a kind of clumpy, making running a little bit difficult, but the view was outstanding and I was starting to feel a lot better. We climbed gradually through the grass and everyone seemed to slow down quite a bit. Most people were looking very worn out. Soon, we came to a large talus slope full of furniture-sized boulders. I had a blast hopping up and over the rocks. I passed several more people in this section.

Two markers are easy to spot, look really close to find the third

Photo Credit: Jeff O’Reilly

Wobbly legs + wobbly rocks made for a good challenge. This section was a new addition to the course this year. I loved it. I made it through unscathed and started up the very steep hillside through the trees. This climb was so steep in places that I was actually grabbing on to trees and using them to haul myself up. I was barely moving, but I was still passing people! I think I ended up passing around 15 or so from just before the boulders to the top of the peak. It was a 7 mile stretch between aid stations here, so I made sure to keep hydrated and fueled for the long haul. We crested Cerro Grande, which was the 2nd of 3 10k+ foot peaks of the day, and headed into a long, long, descent down Cañon de Valle. The trail was steep, snowy, and muddy at first. Soon it gave way to a gentle downhill grade and some really nice running. I held a good steady pace for several miles on this trail.

Sweet trail in the CdV

Photo Credit: Olga Varlamova

After descending the canyon, the course swung north and made its way over to the Pajarito Canyon aid station (mile 28 - 1:57 split / 7:06 elapsed). We were more or less on the way back to Los Alamos now. All of the aid stations were great, the volunteers and spectators were top notch and their support and assistance was very much appreciated. Pajarito was cool because it was one of the more easily accessible spots on the course, so there was a lot of people there. It was a blast to come running in feeling strong with all the cheering and cowbells ringing. They were scoping out our race numbers with binoculars so they could have our drop bags ready to hand to us as soon as we rolled in. What great service! This would be my longest stop of the day at about 2-3 minutes. I spent time reloading my pack with gels and having fun trading smart remarks with the volunteers. They couldn’t believe how fresh I looked.

Now I was in a bit of no-man’s land, going it alone for a while. The trail headed back up another canyon that would take us to the base of Pajarito Ski Resort. It got a little warm in this section, but I was drinking enough and generally doing alright. I caught up to a couple of guys and not much was said as we all plugged away on the incline. I was last (3rd) in line about a mile from the ski resort when I thought I heard a stick crack behind me. Feeling a little tired, I just shrugged it off and kept going. A minute later I heard it again. This time I turned around to see Kirk right there. Where had he come from!?! There hadn’t been anyone behind me for miles it seemed, then poof, there he was. Uh-oh, I thought, he’s gonna take us to school now. This time I sped up a little to keep pace and the 4 of us hit the Pajarito Base aid station together (mile 32 - 1:07 / split 8:14). I didn’t know it at the time, but Kyle Skaggs had already finished the race at this point! He ran a very strong 8:08 to take a minute of his own course record - and the course was longer and more difficult this year. Great performance!

I was first out of the aid station and started to push the pace just a little bit. Kirk came cruising by me and I couldn’t keep up, he looked like he was really in his element now. I did what I could and tried to keep a steady pace going. There were some very steep snowy sections of trail that wound through the trees before we ended up on one of the ski runs and just headed straight for the top. I was beginning to feel the effort of the day, and started to feel tired for the first time. I was glad to top out on the climb, then had to hustle out of there as a hail storm was whipping things up. Thankfully it didn’t get too bad.

Reaching the top of Pajarito, feeling a little beat at this point

Photo Credit: Jim Stein

The course came around some trees and then pointed straight down a double black diamond run. I was glad to still have some quads left, I was going to need them! It was really really steep for a while, then mellowed out to just really steep. I soon caught sight of the ski lodge at the bottom and knew that would be my next stop. I reached the ski lodge aid station (mile 36 - 1:10 split / 9:25 elapsed) and looked at my watch for the first time all day. 9:25! No wonder I was just now getting tired, I really had been taking my time. In planning for the race, I had loosely estimated 8 1/2 hours to get to this point (I also forgot to factor in the 2 additional miles and 3rd 10k’ peak). Oh, well. Just a good training run in the mountains.

Now it was time to run it in with whatever I had left. I put my iPod on for the first time all day, slammed a gel, and started running. Next stop, finish line!

I ran all the way to the next aid station (Pipeline - :39 split / 10:04 elapsed) which was all uphill, and kept right on going. I had enough water to get to the next one. There were two more hills coming out of Pipeline that caught me a little bit off guard. They looked pretty intimidating, but went by pretty fast. After that, it was back on singletrack through the forest and down, down, down. This part of the course was really cool, there were sections that felt and looked like Oregon - then you’d round a corner and be in the middle of a desert. A very fast bottle fill at the Guaje Ridge AS and I kept right on going, jamming to the tunes and feeling a little tired - but good.

The Rendija Canyon aid station (:55 split / 11:39 elapsed) came at 2 miles to go. I stopped for another bottle fill, but should have just kept on going. I thought it was very strange now that I was ‘racing’, I saw basically no one. I think I only passed 2 or 3 people in the last 15 miles of the race. Ocassionaly I would glance back and see nothing but empty trail. I kept a strong pace up the little canyon that led to the final climb before the finish. As I was negotiating the final steep section of trail, I looked back and there was Kirk. Only 20 yards behind me! For about the fifth time today, he had materialized from out of nowhere right on my heels. I had visions of me eating his dust at the Fruita finish line and kicked it in with all I had for the last 1/3 mile. It was enough, and I came across the line in 12:04, 26th place. It was great to finally meet Kirk and talk about our races. I’ve learned a lot of good things by watching how he approaches racing. I felt very satisfied with the day. When Karl asked how it went, my one word answer was ‘textbook’. I was hoping to have finished a little faster, but wouldn’t go back and change anything. It turned out just right. Moving up 30 spots after mile 12 was a good outcome. Karl had a good training day of his own, cruising to a second place 8:58 - nice!

I can’t say enough good about the race and the organization. The guys and gals down in Los Alamos really know how to do it right! The hand crafted pottery and commemorative poster were excellent finishers awards. The volunteers were outstanding, and the trails spectacular. Hanging out with Karl, Kirk, Kyle, Olga, and Roch in the beautiful evening weather was a perfect ending to a nearly perfect day. This race had me smiling for many days afterwards, I kept wishing I was back in Los Alamos. I loved it!

Pottery

Poster

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Race Report: Desert RATS / Spring Desert Ultra 50 miler

Another race in the books. Fruita is awesome, I love it out there. Raw and natural, rocks and dust.

I arrived plenty early for the 06:30 start. So early that I had time to re-tie my right shoe about two dozen times trying to get it just right. I was totally OCD there for a while. Must. Get. Shoe. Tied.

I toed the line in the pre-dawn light wearing throwaway gloves and tube socks I had cut the ends off for arm warmers. I was stylin’! Or ‘fashionly’, as my 5 year old daughter would say. After a week of going crazy fighting a cold, achy legs, and bundles of nerves I was ready to get going! Thankfully, I felt pretty good and was optimistic that I could at least finish this thing.

The course is a 25 mile loop that you finish and then reverse direction to make 50 miles. The tricky thing about this race is that there is a 25 mile race and a 50 mile race being run at the same time. The 50 milers can drop out at the turnaround and still get credit for a 25 mile finish.

Connect the dots…

It’s a tough run with a lot of tight singletrack, and a few stretches of dirt road. Plenty of rocks, sand, and slickrock to grind your feet into bloody stumps, and a little over 8,000 feet of climbing to keep things interesting.

The plan for the day was to hold back and save some for the final 1/3 of the race. I sort of followed that, but could have done better. I ran all of the first climb, smiled and shook my head at the amazing summit sunrise, and then got held up a bit on the descent by a train of people in front of me. After the first aid station I caught up with Kirk, he recognized me from Salida (where he finished one spot ahead of me) and I recognized him as well. It was the first of about 100 times we would cross paths throughout the day. He had never gone longer than a marathon and was running strong in his first 50 miler!

Kirk having WAY too much fun - at least make it look like you’re working!

The middle part of the course is so cool. Mostly flat, but right along the edge of cliffs and winding in and out of canyons. You can really cruise on this section and take in the great scenery.

Mile 10 - feelin’ good…

Around mile 15 I hooked up with Sandy, one of my new teammates. We each knew the other one would be at the race, but hadn’t set up a way to meet. And there we were. Small world. We ran together for a few miles, before he pulled away at the turnaround.

Sandy cruising along a few minutes ahead of me

Sorry ’bout the watermarks, I’m buying prints and they don’t offer electronic downloads

You can view/buy photos here.

I hit the skids hard after the halfway point and struggled for a good 5 miles or so. Then the phoenix rose from the ashes and it was game on! I steadily reeled in 6 guys up to mile 35. Including Kirk and Sandy, who I thought were LONG gone. It helped that some mountain bikers told me some guys were not too far ahead (but still out of sight). Things came together great for a while and I pushed hard to gain some ground.

Sandy looked like grim death when I went by him, and then I caught Kirk at the mile 38 aid station. We ran near each other for the next few miles, but he was going strong and I was starting to fade. I had run myself into the ground earlier when I was feeling good and was paying for it. He was gone again.

Into the final aid station I focused on the climb that followed. Here comes Sandy! Looking strong and determined. Man, what a comeback! Now I was the one left for dead as he would go on to put 10 minutes into me by the finish. Then - what the @#$?? Kirk comes by me AGAIN. Turns out he missed a trail marker and put some extra distance in. It didn’t slow him down at all, I still couldn’t stay with him after he spotted me some free time. Great run!

I finally crossed the line in 10:12, 11th place - 6 blisters, one missing toenail, and Niel Diamond’s Sweet Caroline blasting through the loudspeakers. Life doesn’t get any better than that!

Sweeeet Caroline, da da dah…

My result was not what I’d hoped for, but better than I expected. I cut an hour and a half off my time from last year, and gained a lot of valuable experience. It cracks me up to think of setting a Personal Best in terms of hours! My fuel was 100% gels, and I only took water from the aid stations. My total aid station time was 9:20 vs. 23:20 last year. I did great with the salt intake and poorly with the fluid intake. Still work to be done there.

I was really surprised by my last 3 split times compared to last year. I didn’t gain much ground in that section. I was slightly disappointed after the race, but considering being sick with a cold and the bad blistering that started at mile 10, I’m glad I was even able to finish. When the huge blister popped on my left foot, I could hear my shoe squishing with every step as if I’d run through a puddle. Ouch! I need to get that figured out. The only other time I’ve gotten one that bad was on the other foot at this same race last year…

da splits (just running time - no AS time included)

I had a great time meeting some new people and running the desert trails. I drove 4 hours home that night and 2 days later am recovering well. It’s definitely cool to walk the halls at work and not have people stop in their tracks and ask, “What happened to you?!?!”. That was a frequent occurrence last year…

I still can’t get that Neil song out of my head.

Race Report: Salida Run Through Time Marathon

This was a challenging race! It started in town and climbed 2000 feet in the first 8 miles averaging a 5% grade. After that there were several more 500-600′ climbs and descents to negotiate. A lot of the course was snow packed dirt road, with icy sections and some parts that had 12″ deep ruts in the frozen mud. The turnaround was at a long abandoned ghost town in the mountains above Salida. We backtracked a couple of miles before breaking off and taking a different way back to town.

There were close to 200 runners that started the race with just under 100 racing the full marathon. The rest were doing a half marathon. I was in the middle of a full training schedule, so I was just using this race mostly for training and for practicing pacing/fueling/hydration strategies. I rested the day before, and will rest the day after, then it’s right back into it as I ramp up for a 50 miler I’m targeting next month.

The race was organized by the Chaffee County Running Club. Obviously a tough group with a no-nonsense approach to running and racing. I like it!

We are a smaller non-profit race and there are no bands, dancers, jet flyovers, etc. along
the course. We do not provide a finisher medal, bouquets of flowers, space blankets, etc. at the finish.

My drive down on Friday afternoon went along the beautiful Arkansas River. It was nice to stop and stretch my legs and spend some time on the riverbank.

Arkansas River

 

I arrived in Salida to a temperature in the 20’s and a blinding snowstorm. Luckily it didn’t dump all that much, but since the course topped out at 9,000′ I knew we would be in for some snowy travels. Good thing I’ve had lots of practice in that department this winter!

We received an update from the race director a few days before the race that described the last several miles of the course:

Please keep this snowy section in mind. If you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, consider switching to the half marathon before the start. We are not totally equipped to evacuate most of the marathon field on short notice if it can not continue. If you get to the final aid station at 17.5 miles and have doubts, drop out and return to the finish on the plowed route.

 

Yeah, baby! Needless to say, that just added fuel to my fire…

Thankfully, I actually had a good plan (and mostly followed it) for once. Thanks to my coach. I took it a lot easier than I normally would have on the first climb and didn’t get caught up in chasing or trying to stay with anyone - no matter what. Just my own pace.

I had hoped to keep my heart rate under 160 and still hold a sub-10 minute pace up the first climb, but the truth was I worked fairly hard (165bpm) to keep it under 11 minutes. I had done some research, but the climb ended up being steeper and feeling longer than I thought it would. I did much better once the grade eased off just a bit and I was able to drop down to a 9 min pace and keep my heart rate in the 150s.

Even though I worked harder than I would have liked on the climb, I was still very careful to keep my effort manageable and save something for later. Good thing, I would definitely need it! I was somewhere between 25-30th place when I got to the top at mile 8.

There was another very STEEP climb around mile 10 before a long descent took us to the turnaround point. I hit that in exactly 2 hours. A little tired, but fairly comfortable. I was optimistic that I could step it up a notch and maybe squeak in under 4 hours, but first I had to climb back up the long hill I had just run down…

Things were going pretty well, and I was starting to pass people more frequently. It was obvious that most had simply gone out too hard. Not me for once! By my count I was 21st at the turnaround, and when I reached the mile 18 aid station (which was also the mile 7 aid station) the volunteers were telling me great job and that I had really moved up a lot (they were keeping track of everyone’s number as they came through).

I started the deep snow section of the course, thinking - this is tough, but not too bad. Ha. Ha. Within a mile I was trekking across a vast expanse of snow, trying to stay on top of the crust, and breaking through every couple of steps up to my thigh. Ok, that just got a whole lot tougher - and no end in sight.

All time goals went flying out the window at that point. I just concentrated on passing people when I could and got another 5 or 6 in this stretch. I was hurting, but they were hurting more… On the plus side, the route was easy to spot as those of us wearing shorts were leaving a blood trail for the rest to follow. That crusty snow was hard, and sharp! My shins looked like I took a cheese grater to them.

Mile 24 - am I there yet??

 

Finally, the plunge to the finish line. I told the race director afterwards that it felt like this course had about 24 miles of climbing and 2 miles of descent. That final drop was pretty steep! He laughed knowingly and said it was like an Escher drawing.

I finished in 13th place out of 89 starters, with a time of 4:35. The winner made it in 3:49 (the only one to break 4 hours), which was about 40 minutes slower than last year - definitely tough conditions this time around! I was psyched to run a smart race and stick to the plan my coach worked out. It was a great race in a beautiful setting!

More photos here

Full results here

Race Report: Psycho Wyco 50k

I made the 8 hour drive to Kansas City to run in the 4th annual Psycho Wyco 50k (31 mile) trail race. It was a long haul, but well worth it. I was seriously questioning my sanity as I left work early to drive almost 600 miles across Kansas, but I reminded myself that this race was the motivator I had used through the winter to keep me going in my training. Now it was time to enjoy the fitness I had earned. I looked forward to testing my legs in my first ultra marathon of 2008.

Wyandotte County Lake Park (the ‘WyCo’ in Psycho Wyco)

The race was put on with the excellent organization of the Kansas City Trail Nerds. Those folks know how to do it right! The course was a tough combination of hills, rocks, dirt, stream crossings, ice, and mud. Everything a trail runner could want. In addition to the 50k, which would circle the lake 3 times, there were also 20 mile and 10 mile races. This meant that almost 400 runners were on the course for at least one lap - that’s a HUGE turnout for a trail race! I think it speaks volumes as to the quality of the event and the organizers.

I got a good night’s sleep at a nearby hotel, and woke up feeling ready to run. The temps were in the 30’s and would climb to around 50 by the middle of the day. I chose to run in shorts and a short sleeved shirt - it felt like a heat wave after the deep freeze we’ve been in this winter. In fact, with the exception of a light undershirt and a thin pair of gloves, I was dressed exactly like I would have been for a run at the peak of summertime.

I knew my legs were good, but my strategy needed some work. This would be the first ultra that I was really trying to ‘race’. This wasn’t a course conducive to fast times, so I didn’t want to focus on that too much. Instead, I would try for a good placing. Last year I was mainly concerned with just going the distance. This year would be different. My training had been excellent in terms of distance and speed, but I seriously lacked hill work - and I would need it on this course. The hills were relentless (in Kansas!?!) and the course was a steady barrage of steep ups and downs. The total elevation gain worked out to 4,500 feet. More vertical than I had run in the past 3 months combined…

Looking at the results from the prior years, I felt like it would be a good goal to try for a top ten finish and/or a sub-5:30 time. Trouble with that was, I would be running against a bunch of locals with good course knowlegde - while I would be running blind. If I were a more experienced runner, that might not be such a big deal. Since that isn’t the case, I tried to do my homework and read all the accounts of previous races, study maps, look at Google Earth, etc. I still felt inadequate.

Heading up the first hill

After a few words of instruction, the thundering herd was on its way. Crunching the styrofoam-like snow and frozen grass with feet that felt light and springy. Not knowing how hard I should start out, and knowing I would invariably get caught up running against people doing shorter distances, I tucked in around 15th spot right on the heels of a guy that I knew was a local. I had overheard him saying he was shooting for a 5:00-5:30 finish. Perfect.

I was concerned about the fast pace we were going, but figured as long as I stayed with the runner I had picked out, things should be ok. Plus, I felt great! I was RACING!

The guy I was running behind started walking on a hill very early in the race, turned out it wasn’t his day. Now I was on my own again. For some reason, this flipped a switch in me and I just started going harder and harder. Passing people left and right.

I pushed hard down this hill and passed several people - notice the nice clean shoes…

I knew I would have the benefit of a lower altitude. I live near 6,000′ and the park we were running in was around 1,000′. Instead of holding on to my oxygen card and playing it smart, I put all my chips on the table and played it all in the first hand. I felt like I had gills and was swimming in pure oxygen. Sucking the O’s, as they say on Everest. It was awesome.

Running through Fester’s Wander, a section of the course that was created by following the race director’s dog as he ran through the woods

 

My heart rate was in the 170’s, which is pretty high, but I was barely breathing. I foolishly thought I could run as hard as I wanted, without suffering the effects. It was good while it lasted…

Finishing the first lap

I was aiming for a 1:40 first lap, and came through in 1:32 - even after backing off quite a bit during the last few miles. This put me in 4th place out of the 50k runners. I knew it was just too fast and backed off even more, thinking I would hit about 1:45 on the second trip around the lake. Once all the 10 milers finished their race, it got pretty quiet out on the course. One guy passed me 3 miles into the second lap, and that was the last runner (other than those I would lap) that I would see for the rest of the race. My motivation started to drag a bit without anyone around to chase, or to push me. My legs started cramping and I felt slow. I finished that lap in 1:43 and was pretty surprised that my time was still that good. I cruised through the aid station and headed out for my final loop.

By now, the day was warming up and the course was deteriorating rapidly. It started to get really muddy. Hills that I ran up on earlier laps, were almost impossible to walk up now - after 400 pairs of feet had churned up the soft dirt and everything had melted. I looked forward to the 3-4 stream crossings as a way to clean off my shoes. It was like running in creamy peanut butter a foot deep that had been sprayed with a fire hose for about an hour. I fell while running a slippery downhill and caught my forearm on a tree trunk. Ouch.

My legs, mind, and body all started to turn to mud as well. I had been skipping aid stations and just grabbing a new bottle from my drop bag when I ran through the start/finish in hopes of saving some time. I clearly hadn’t been drinking enough as my legs started to cramp more often and more violently. I was short on calories, too. So I finally made a 15 second stop at the 23 mile mark and grabbed some more water - and a Krispy Kreme donut to go. Wow! That tasted fantastic!! After doing a very technical singletrack loop, the course took you through the back side of the same aid station and I grabbed 2 more donuts to go! My body was starving and I hadn’t been paying attention. I sucked down 2 gels and drained my water bottle in hopes of jumpstarting my system.

It was too little, too late, but I did feel a tiny bit better. I started passing more and more people now that were on their second loop. Many of them would say something along the lines of them not believing I was still running in all that mud. I was tired, and I hadn’t executed a very smart race, but I kept telling myself to trust in the training. I knew I had put the work in, and that I could keep running to the end.

I had no idea what place I was in, or if anybody that I was passing now was on my lap or their 2nd. I just put my head down and ran as hard as I could. Man, it felt great to cross that finish line! I came across in 5:22, which put me in 6th place out of 108 runners that started the 50k (4th place in the 30-39 age group - 73 total finishers). I had achieved both of my goals!

Mud and blood - just another day on the trails…

My last lap was a 2:06, which had me pretty disgusted, I had fallen apart badly - but I got over it. Considering the conditions, I cut myself some slack. I wondered if a more conservative start, with more even lap times would have netted me a faster result. It’s hard to say, because I covered a lot of ground while it was still frozen. I think I probably should have backed off just a bit and respected the course more, though. Too easy to get cocky coming from Colorado to a race in Kansas. I’ll definitely respect it next time!

Me and my shiny new medal

Race Report: CMRA 12k

Aurora Sports Park Cross Country

I had the opportunity to run in a race today put on by the Colorado Masters Running Association. I dropped my son off for an activity at 8:00, hit the race at 9:00, and was back to pick him up at 11:00. Quite the action packed morning, but it worked out well.

I’ve been wanting to do a CMRA race for a year now, and finally got my chance. They are a local club that puts on one race per month with varying distances and surfaces. Today’s race was a-typical in both of those categories! The races usually attract from 40-100 runners, and offer a chance to do a low-cost, no frills event. For a 10 dollar fee (or free to club members), I viewed it as another great opportunity to get some speed work in. It’s always easier to push yourself when in a race setting.

The couse was a 4k loop through weeds, brush, ditches, creek bottoms, grass, trees, willows, you name it. Add 4-5 inches of snow, with some ice underneath, and it made for quite a challenge. Runners could stop at one, two, or three loops - meaning there was a simultaneous 4k, 8k, and 12k race going on. The one catch was that you didn’t have to declare what distance you were racing before the start, which made for some interesting times as I would watch the runners ahead of me each time we came through the start/finish and hope they would pull off - because I was dying! Every time they would run on through, I would have to dig a little and keep up the pace.

Race Report: Rescue Run 10k

Happy 2008! I got up at 6:30 so I could drive down to Colorado Springs and run a 10k race with several hundred other crazy people to kick off the new year. Normally, I wouldn’t bother to go through all the trouble for that kind of race, but this is one that I had wanted to do last year and couldn’t due to injury. I wanted to check it off the list, plus the money goes to support the El Paso County Search and Rescue organization.

The day turned out great. It was sunny and clear, with a little breeze. 16 degrees at the start - I decided to skip the tights and just go with shorts. I also broke out the running shirt I had designed as an offshoot to my cycling team gear. I planned on running hard as a good way to get an extended speed session under my belt. I had just done 30 miles on Friday, then took Saturday and Sunday off, and put in a medium tempo 10 miles with hills yesterday. I definitely wasn’t going into this race rested, but that was ok. I needed to push the speed with a little fatigue in the legs.

I knew the course started out uphill, but wow was I shocked at the climb in the first mile! It was pretty stout, and pitched up to 9% for the final 1/4 mile to the top. Coming back down, I hit 15mph on this section. Fun!

I was hoping to maintain something under a 7:30 pace. I thought that would be a fair challenge given the state I was in and the difficulty of the course. I had done a solo time trial on a 10k course near my house back on November 3 and came up with a 47:25. I really wanted to break 45 minutes, but would need a 7:14 pace to do that. Seemed like a stretch.

The start was pretty crowded, over 700 people were lined up to do the 5k or 10k which started at the same time. After a flat 1/4 mile start on a smaller path, we were dumped onto a road at the base of the climb so it was pretty easy to find room to pass.

I abandoned my conservative strategy and started passing dozens of people immediately. I ended up giving 3-4 spots back by the end, but I think it was the right thing to do. My legs never complained at all, I felt like they had plenty to give. My lungs were another story. They just seemed to be limiting me for some reason (several in the family have colds, and I’ve had some symptoms).

I ended up 26th out of 310 overall male (was passed by one girl), and 7/44 in my age group. My time was 43:14, which works out to a 6:58 pace. I was thrilled! For me to run sub-7 on a course like that, contending with the hills and snow, and having all those miles in my legs was fantastic. I was really, really pleased. I bogged down a bit during miles 3 and 4, paying for the faster start, but then rallied and finished strongly (the downhill helped, too!).

Sled Time!

After I got home, we took off to go sledding. Littleton has a dedicated sledding park with a big hill that is very wide and can accommodate a LOT of people. There were tons of people there since it was nice weather + a holiday. Talk about the Darwin Awards on steroids. This place was nuts! There weren’t really any defined paths to take back up the hill, so people were randomly walking everywhere. We saw so many collisions and near misses. I can’t believe they didn’t have a fleet of ambulances waiting at the bottom with doors open. The first place we set our sleds down had a nice patch of fresh blood decorating the snow…

One guy was at the bottom of the hill with his back turned to the slope (duh). I yelled ‘heads up!’ as loud as I could as a girl on a huge tube was gunning right for him. He turned and saw her a millisecond before impact, jumped as high as he could, and she clipped his feet and sent him flipping over backwards onto the hard-as-ice snow. Ouch. We saw another guy jump out of the way of an oncoming sled only to realize that his little girl was right behind him. She was a centimeter from being knocked into orbit. She ended up getting sideswiped which spun her around in a 720 and flung her mitten several feet away. We saw another little kid his legs taken out which slammed his face into the ice, blood and tears were everywhere.

We survived for about 90 minutes, then considered ourselves lucky to still be in one piece and headed out. The kids had a blast, even if the parents were a little worried at times.

Pueblo Half Marathon

I had a great time at this race. My doubts were plentiful going into it, with weather being at the top of the list. Forecasts called for 3-4 FEET of snow in the mountains, and generally cold and wet conditions for us down below. I debated about whether it would be worth getting up early and making a two hour drive just to run 13 miles in a cold and wet mess. I’m so glad I ended up going.

Castle Rock Turkey Trot 5k

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today we got up early and drove down to Castle Rock to run in a 5k race.  It was cold!!!  I think 18-19 degrees at the start.  The route was all on a bike path with lots of twists and hills.  Elizabeth pushed Jessica in the stroller with Natalie by her side, Malcolm and Lindsey stuck together, and I gave it a go towards the front.  There were about 700 people that participated raising around $12,000 for our county food bank.  It was a lot of fun, and now we all have matching shirts!

   

The Bear 100 Mile Endurance Run

Just a little more time is all we’re askin’ for
‘Cause just a little more time could open closin’ doors.
Just a little uncertainty can bring you down.

And nobody wants to know you now
and nobody wants to show you how.
So if you’re lost and on your own
you can never surrender!

And if your path won’t lead you home
you can never surrender!

And when the night is cold and dark
you can see
you can see light.
‘Cause no one can take away your right to fight
and to never surrender!

Corey Hart, Never Surrender

I’ve listened to my iPod dozens and dozens of times over the last year, but that song has never come up before. It came on at about 3:00 in the morning as I was pushing through mile 70. Alone, tired, and with a rapidly swelling leg/ankle. Grinding up climb after climb. This song gave me a much needed boost - I hit ‘repeat’ several times…