What a mad year it’s been. I clearly fell behind with the old blog thing – with a lot of stuff going on in life and work. Essentially the combination of working hard, training hard, racing hard, and playing hard (not-to-mention Game of Thrones, Marco Polo, Daredevil, etc, etc…) has left me neglecting my humble little nook on this big old internet. So here’s a quick recap of my running happenings – since I last posted following last year’s epic West Highland Way Race.
New Team, Fatigue, and Rebuilding from Ground Zero
Following the summer Scotland trip in 2014, I travelled back to San Diego and chilled out for many weeks – feeling rightfully pretty trashed after my first hundred(ish) miler. My body did appear to feel recovered pretty quickly though (schoolboy error – see later), so I threw my name in for a local 10K – the Scripps Ranch Old Pros 10K – on the 4th July! This would be my first race with my new club – Prado Racing Team (or PRT – which sounds much less poncy). I’d never met most of them, but I toed the line in my red vest with them, and went on to set a new PR of 36:40. Clearly I was on the mend. Clearly! Right??
Naw. Not right. Not at all. I’d read and heard much about adrenal fatigue – where an overworked body’s adrenal glands fail to produce enough cortisol and other crucial hormones, leading to a massive reduction in exercise capacity, as well as a lack of motivation and general vitality (cortisol powers metabolism, maintains blood pressure, amongst other handy things in life). I figured my addictive personality and fondness of racing put me at high risk of getting something like this – and following that 10K I felt super depleted on my training runs – so I sensibly got on my bike instead. I also grabbed every introductory offer I could find at the local yoga studios. If I wasn’t running, I would damn well do something to stop becoming a blob! A month of near daily yoga (some easy, some brutal, and some kinda dancy; I was hooked!) coupled with my pretty healthy vegetarian diet really turned things around. I even took up drum lessons for the first time time in ten years – to occupy my time (like I needed another thing to get into!).
I had long since signed up for the America’s Finest City Half Marathon in mid-August, and decided to run it despite not being in decent running shape. It was a hot one, but it went OK. I was eight seconds slower than the previous year. Not too shabby for just turning up and racing. I’d now focus hard on building my speed – with regular tempo runs and track sessions. Track was entirely new to me, but my teammates at PRT kindly took me under their wing and introduced me to some killer routines they do regularly. I puffed and panted my way round the many laps of increasingly-concerning tempo – constantly in their dust! Nonetheless, I hadn’t felt so fulfilled and accomplished from my training in a very long time. I was getting faster!
Also at around this time, I was recommended to a local chiropractor by my Mission Bay tempo run buddy, Chris. Dr Devin Young – of Intouch Chiropractic in San Diego – is a superhero in my eyes. I’d occasionally see Meb Keflezighi (2014 Boston marathon champ, and a San Diegan) leaving the practice after his treatment – so you can’t help but take confidence from that!
Meb gifted his winning Boston bib to Dr Young. How cool is that?!
The natural progression of events when you find Mebs bib sitting in front of you
Dr Young found a few alignment issues in my neck and got me on a program that quite simply was the single most effective change in my training program ever. The treatment instantly kickstarted my vitality and lust for life, and got me to heights of physical fitness and speed I thought I’d never reach. I know, it sounds like I totally drank the chiropractic Kool-Aid, but along with his advice on form and technique (he’s no slacker in a pair of sneakers himself!) he really got my running mojo back on track, and fast. Like I said – superhero!
After AFC Half, I was off to New Hampshire to take on the Presidential Traverse with my NJ trail running crew – following our R2R2R adventure in the Grand Canyon the year prior. Another missed blog opportunity for sure. That was a fun one! And then it was back across the country, and time to train hard once more – for the big winter ultras.
Dixon falls into a hole on our way down from Mount Madison. One of us had to! Presidential Traverse weekend – in beautiful New Hampshire. Man I flew I a lot last year…
Racing Again, but All Over the Shop!
I had interspersed my PRT duties (some short USATF cross-country fall events around San Diego county) with some more of the XTERRA SoCal Trail Series races that I loved so much from the previous season. I’d already won my age group in the XTERRA SoCal Trail Series, netting me an automatic entry to the Nationals at a ski resort in Utah (I later found you could just buy an entry to these “Nationals”! D’oh!). Anyway, I turned up and grabbed 16th (second age group) place and was delighted with that given the depth of the field – and given that I ran it the day after a beastly 20 miler at altitude. That back-to-back weekend was my way of training for the inaugural North Face Utah 50 in Park City two weeks later – my first exposure to racing at 10,000ft and a race I would massively recommend to everyone – runners and spectators alike. Crew and supporters simply have to ride the chairlift up to the main aid station – which is visited twice! How easy is that? I placed 13th (first age group) – netting me yet another pair of armwarmers I think. Oh the glitz of it all!
XTERRA Nationals in Ogden, Utah. Photo credit: Some rip-off race photo organisation. Sue meRiding the lift with Al after TNF 50 in Park CityYou always make friends on the liftsRed Pine Lake. A nice treat after a long climb up
My usual December pilgrimage to the North Face San Fran 50 ended with a second DNF (2 finishes, 2 DNFs – both on wet years) – after twice rolling my right ankle – which I damaged badly during an overzealous turkey trot the weekend prior (trying to stick with a rather speedy girl who was laying down a crazy pace!). I bailed at 50k, but got to see the leaders finish which was really awesome and something I don’t tend to get to see! I even managed to trigger the timing belt at the finish line (I left my bib in my pocket) and somehow registered myself as 18th place. It was only when I received a bunch of congratulatory texts from San Diego friends that I realised what had happened!!! The ensuing emails I got from pissed off Team Nike Trail members weren’t the politest, but I duly contacted the race organisers and iRunFar.com – who had very quickly published the results (hence the pissed off proper elite runners who’s placement I properly screwed up!). Everything was resolved by the next morning. I finally got my moment of glory though on an iRunFar race recap! Winner!! 🙂
Other big ticket items that I really should have posted separately include Avalon 50 on Catalina Island in January with my PRT “Mountain Division” buddies, Rocky Raccoon 100 in Texas two weeks later with my NJ friends, and a return to the Big Sur Marathon in April with other NJ friends – Denis and Angie.
PRT “Mountain Division” at Avalon 50. Mike, Rob, Steve and me. We’d all Top 10 this race, with fellow teammate Fern blazing into 2nd in his first ultra!
At Rocky Raccoon a couple of weeks later, I surprised the hell out myself – taking 11th place in a time of 15 hours 19 mins (this would later become the race that really bumped up my ITRA performance index – serving me up a UTMB guaranteed entry spot if I want it!!). In terms of race experience, I have to be honest and say it was not the most inspiring. As fun as the whole event weekend is, running five loops of any course is going to get tedious fast, and it really did. I was so thankful for having Matt and Gene pacing me, and to see Al after each loop – feeding me my strawberries, crisp and beer! That kept me sane! As with many races, I said “never again”, but we’ll see how that pans out! A real special part of the weekend was getting to see my friends Lauren and Heather finish in the AM, and to get the unexpected bonus of seeing friends cheering me through aid stations! Just have friends around me in a race is rare for me and my travelling hobo ways. Speaking of which, we slept in the back of a rental car after that race. No issues at all 🙂 You really can’t beat the euphoria of a painful race finally being over, and getting to agonizingly shower your chafed bits, drink beer, vomit it right back up, then fall instantly asleep in the back of your rental car. Now THAT’S how you treat a lady to a good weekend!
Mid race (I can tell by the smiling) at the Rocky Raccoon 100I ran 5 loops of 20 miles each. Prize: belt buckle.Anne, Joel, Lauren and Kyle. Lauren’s first 100. And what a great crew she had.An emotional Heather – after finishing her first 100 despite having an undiagnosed knee injury even before the race began. So strong! With Gene and Matt – who kindly stepped in and paced me for a while
Recovery from the “Coon” (as I so politically incorrectly referred to it) was remarkably swift. After some time off and a quick refresher training block, I nabbed 12th (second age group) in April’s Big Sur Marathon – in 2:54:28. Not a PR by any means, but given the hilliness of that course I was well aware that this was definitely my proudest and strongest marathon performance yet.
Met Big Sur marathon winner Adam Roach in the pub! Denis, me, Adam and his girlfriend
Unfortunately though, I managed to sabotage my goal race of this year – which was the West Highland Way again. Going out too fast with a rival runner, and blowing my IT band by mile 40 (his race ended at mile 20), I couldn’t even hike the rest of the race. It was over. It was stupid, and very much against my way of doing things. I felt so bad for my doting crew. Only beer could resolve my anguish. And a lovely relaxing trip to Italy with Al!
Start line of the West Highland Way 95 miler – in my hometown, Milngavie
Apart from WHW and TNF San Fran, these were all pretty solid results by my previous standards – in some big well-stacked races. My shorter stuff was also improving – with another 10K PR (35:41) and my first ever mile race (5:03) happening in San Diego. I totally want to smash that 5 min mark by year end!!
Bye Bye for a While, San Diego, Hello North Vancouver!
And so I now find myself living in Vancouver’s North Shore. Visa issues earlier in the year in the US necessitated that I leave the US for 12 months, and Canada seemed an appropriate place to hide – given the timezone match for my relationship and for my work (which is still for US-based clients). As luck would have it, Al’s company was very nice about letting her work remotely, so she’s been able to have some extended visits too 🙂 It’s the old “when life gives you lemons…” adage for sure. We even managed to incorporate the Big Sur race into the road trip up here! I had to sacrifice a bunch of other planned SoCal races though – which was a bit of a bummer financially.
Despite the initial upheaval of the relocation a being huge sap on my life – and Allison’s – it’s all stabilizing now (well at least until next year when we’ll have to do it all again in reverse!). I’ve instantly fallen madly in love with the mountains here (Al likes it too!), and the training is the best and most fun I’ve ever had. Staring up at the local Grouse Mountain every day still gives me a longing to just get up there. My solitude here led me to quickly get signed up for some Coast Mountain Trail Series races – organized by ultra superstar Gary Robbins – of HURT 100 fame. He’s actually the man who guided me to North Van – instead of downtown – and I am so thankful for his openness to emails from complete randoms.
My training in the local mountains has been easy to fit into my life – since I’ve mainly been living alone with bugger all else to do! I’m finding being atop Grouse Mountain or Mount Fromme is the very best corrective measure for a day of being a blob sat in front of a computer screen all day. Cue hours and hours disappearing into the hills, and racking up training weeks of > 20,000ft elevation gain.
This perfect training paid off with a recent win at the inaugural Buckin’ Hell 50K in July. And the great thing is I still had buckets of energy left afterwards. Enough to squeeze in another 25 miler the day after – with a new trail buddy Josh.
Heading towards my first ultra win at Buckin’ Hell in North Vancouver. Photo credit: Brian McCurdy Photography
Suffice to say I went into the recent Fat Dog 120 with buckets of confidence, and high hopes of gaining redemption for my DNF in Scotland, along with getting an all-important Western States 100 and UTMB qualifying race finish. Oh, and Fat Dog is one of very few remaining Hardrock 100 qualifiers too! All the more reason to get it done – no matter what!!!
That race report is to follow. Might take me a while at this rate 😉 I highly recommend you head over here in the meantime and read the report of race winner Nickademus Hollon. It paints a good picture of what the conditions were like out there. And he’s my new running coach!! 😀
Thanks so much for reading. Now I’m all caught up, I can get back to making beer.
Well it’s hard to believe it’s been nearly 4 weeks now since the biggest race of my life, but I’m so glad to finally find some time to write it up. This is one that I knew I had to capture because there were so many great memories, and people. And it’s an adventure I will remember fondly and with pride – for a long, long time to come. For those familiar with my lengthy posts – this is no exception (sorry!).
The stunning view to the North from over the crest of Devil’s Staircase, in Glencoe
WHW 2014 Race Overview
Distance: 95 miles (Western States qualifier; UTMB 3-pointer)
Elevation gain: 14,760ft (see chart below)
Terrain: Pretty much everything. Flat runnable start. Some serious scrambly sections early on. Very hard and tricky cobbles for lots of the way later on – coupled with some severe climbs and seemingly more severe descents! Tough to find softness underfoot. A Hoka course for sure.
Noteworthy: Motorized support crew (2 persons) mandatory – no aid provided. No pacers (unless you’re over 4 hrs back by halfway). Mandatory gear: space blanket and cellphone. Finishers get crystal goblet! And a sweet journey home.
Winning time: 14 hrs 20 mins (Paul Giblin; course record)
My time: 17 hrs 31 mins (6th overall; 25th in event’s history – it seems!)
It was a massive venture into the unknown for me – having only ever tackled a few 50 milers in the past. All of those were Stateside, with generally perfect, predictable, sunny weather and pretty decently soft underfoot conditions (especially in California where I find myself these days). I knew from having hiked the West Highland Way 17 years ago (at age 17!) – how rugged a path it was. It’s actually made up of some super old coach and military roads, plus a few drovers’ roads too. Gravel sections, comfortable terrain and occasional singletrack are all luxuries that must be savoured early on, because once you hit those old rocky roads – you’re on them for a LONG time!
The race went as well as I’d hoped overall – in terms of my finish time (17:20 was my rough target – so not far off, and no watch!). The first 40 didn’t go well at all – I’ll be honest – due to a lot of sickness along the side of Loch Lomond. Read on and I’ll happily elaborate on that! I fell to 14th place after that disaster. But then it ended up balancing out with a strong resurgence later on – and some surprisingly fast splits (only Paul Giblin was faster on the Bridge of Orchy stretch!). Somehow I crept back up to 5th with 14 miles to go. And then I managed to make a total pig’s ear of it with a last minute detour entering Fort William – essentially losing me my 5th place by 15 seconds (after a sprint finish!). It was a shame to end on such a silly sour note, but I can’t pretend I wasn’t pissed off with myself. On the other side of the coin – it’s all the more reason to come back and conquer it again – with hopefully no sickness, and a little more course savvy.
My main takeaway (apart from the fine crystal finisher’s goblet!) is the amount of lessons I learned – for future 100 mile jaunts in the wilderness. And whilst it’s easy to focus on the couple of things I need to improve on, something of this stature definitely merits celebrating the many things that went absolutely amazingly too. I’ll drink to that. No seriously, I just did. From a certain goblet..
My first WHW finisher’s goblet! Do it 10 times and you get a decanter!! I’m so into that
Milngavie to Balmaha (18.9 miles)
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/129344060″ params=”auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_artwork=true” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /] Song for the moment:Power Come Over Me, by Pigeonhed
Race start on Saturday morning was amazing. Milngavie Train Station was awash with runners and their crew. All sorts of gear was on display – every brand of race pack, headlamp, compression gear, etc, as you might imagine. I was going pretty minimal with just shorts and a tee, headlamp, and a little belt to hold mandatory gear (space blanket and mobile phone). My big foglight of a headlamp (Black Diamond Polar Icon) was possibly overkill on this Scottish midsummer night. That headlamp was so bright I could see the eyes of sheep from half a mile away – which I’ll bear in mind if I’m ever looking for a flock of sheep in the night.
Positive tension at the start at 1am with Allison! That’s not a medal – it’s a timing chip!
The start chute through Milngavie town center was lined with cheering crew and supporters and I was just totally gobsmacked. I hadn’t expected a send-off like that at all.
I ran with a great pack of 4 chaps til about Drymen – all helping each other out – taking turns to hold open the various gates along the way. David Gardner (4th overall; 16hr 39) was setting a pace for a 16hr 30 attempt, way beyond all of our targets, but still – we all tucked in behind him quite happily til the climb to Conic. Then we spread out fast. David took the bull by the horns and ran the entire hill – passing me as I hiked up. I’d got bored and ventured ahead earlier, and quickly got my wrists slapped by the trail running gods – when I plunged my Hokas into a deep bog in a field at 12 miles in! Change of shoes at Balmaha I figured.
Sunrise was set for 4.30am, but I learned from David that by the time we reached Balmaha (3:45am-ish), we could definitely dump headlamps there. This was a huge relief I remember – because I was having a minor headlamp dumping logistics dilemma (I didn’t want to have to run all the way to CP2 at mile 40 with it).
I arrived at Balmaha CP in 6th (my ultimate finish position FYI; let the rollercoaster ride begin!) in a time of 2:37 – 10 mins inside my plans – which Gary was diligently keeping tabs on for me (I ran with no watch). Balmaha was my crew’s very first engagement – in their very first ultra (except Allison)- so it was very much a learning experience for them too! They were there for me with all my boxes, my Ultimate Direction SJ hydration vest, and had my Altra Lone Peaks sitting waiting for me (after I’d passed instructions along at a meet point in Drymen). I was liking the Hoka Rapa Nui‘s so much though, and was feeling nothing in the way of blister potential, so I continued with them – with just a change of socks and insoles to nullify the risk of blisters after the bog-dipping incident earlier. For the upcoming jaunt along the rocky, rooty technical edge of Loch Lomond – you really don’t want your feet slipping around in wet socks. There were lots of nasty bitey midges at Balmaha (and right up to perhaps mile 60 in fact) feasting on my salty flesh, and my crew’s! Not pleasant at all and I was desperate to get back on the trail! My poor poor support crew battled with these buggers right through the day. Which is why crewing is so much harder than running – I say!
Balmaha to Beinglas Farm (40.5 miles)
Here began the long 22 miles up the east side of Loch Lomond – teetering around the edge of Ben Lomond and then over some pretty up and down technical terrain to Inversnaid and beyond. The Hokas held up well here, but unfortunately my stomach did not.
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/45738546″ params=”auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_artwork=true” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /] Song for the moment:Hurricane by MSMR. “Welcome to the inner workings of my mind”. This was to be my first big mental battle of the day.
Just short of Rowardennan (26 miles), I found myself feeling pretty queasy and let’s just say “volatile” in the stomach area. I plodded on in the hope it would pass, but it just got worse and worse, and I really slowed down here a lot. A quick poop in the woods (one of two!) didn’t resolve matters. Nor did my first puke (of three). But I recall seeing Hugh McInnes (who I’d been running with earlier) pass me as I squatted in the bushes! I made it to Rowardennan where I regret not leaving a drop bag, as I felt in need of some electrolytes – which I’d missed out on at Balmaha. I was massively thankful for the water they had available here though – as it allowed me to dump the Nuun I had and replace it with water. The Nuun just wasn’t sitting well at all, and I abandoned it completely from here on.
Leaving Rowardennan, I caught up with Hugh on the road section and we ran in close proximity for a while after that. I was really worried we were on the wrong path as we climbed a largely unmarked, seemingly endless forest road, but Hugh was adamant it was right – and that was all I needed to hear!
I paused at the top of the forest road and let Hugh pass again (I wouldn’t see him again for a long long time). I proceeded to poop a second time whilst it was quiet, then after that I puked again. I could see at this point that it was my earlier dinner that was coming up – exactly as it went in. Lovely! Please do read on 🙂
Losing a lot of liquids, I had to glug a load of my water just to satisfy my thirst – and this lack of remaining water led to a real slow, weak slog along the remaining few miles to Inversnaid – all the while staring wistfully at the vast undrinkable body of water to my left. I was hopeful however that Inversnaid Hotel would let me use their bathroom to sort myself out – so it was just a matter of getting there really. Such small achievable targets were the name of the game that day.
Upon arrival at Inversnaid, I did indeed visit said bathroom and proceeded to completely void myself of any remaining toxicity from my tummy. I then filled up on water once more – so that’s two full rehydrations in just a few miles. Now all I needed was electrolytes and fuel. Trouble was, the next aid station was Beinglas Farm – a grueling 6.5 miles on. OK – that sounds like nothing right? Well I’d reccied this part of the race a couple of days before, so I knew how technical it was – and how grim it was going to be for me in that state. Oh well, I thought, best just get frickin’ moving and get it over with.
I lost a lot of places during my toilet trip, and I recall starting out with two chaps who were running together, in Hokas (Andrew Horrobin and Gregor Heron; I wouldn’t see them again for over 30 miles). In the proper spirit of the race, they asked if I was OK, and I tried to put on a brave face. I was feeling sorry for myself, and weak from lack of fuel, and wasn’t able to keep them in sight for very long. I kept chastising myself for not using drop bags for stashing fuel. More people passed me. Morale was dwindling fast. At one point I remember finding a nice flat rock looking out to a gorgeous view of the loch, and I just sat there staring across towards the A82 – wondering if my crew were motoring up there at that very point.
I took out the mobile phone and texted my sis, “CAN COKE!”. With about 2 miles to go, I called her too – to advise the crew of my ill predicament. I was picturing myself getting to Beinglas and just lying down on a blanket for 10 mins with my Coke in hand – maybe even taking a little nap! It was a pleasant thought, and kept me pushing on 🙂
When I did arrive, it was such a huge relief to see Allison and the gang waiting for me with a bottle of cold Pepsi! I glugged it down so fast that my sister rightly told me to slow down or I’d be sick! I whined for a bit about how my top 5 goal was kaput, and Gary updated me on present status – over half an hour off target, and outside even my slowest estimations. Bad news, after being well inside at Balmaha. I was now just content to get through the race and maybe finish sub 20 hours. I desperately tried to keep any further negativity out of my head – but it was tough in the circumstances.
Grudgingly piecing myself back together at Beinglas – after a lie down on the back seat!
I had a lie down on the back seat and was force fed strawberries, Pedialyte, Pepsi, maybe tried to eat a guacamole sandwich, before the crew motivated me to gear up and get back out there.
I recall seeing the pathetic “challenge” support station out there too – and thought how ripped off those runners were. As a brief aside, the WHW “Challenge” is a disorganized, rushed, and very unsafe parallel WHW race put on at the exact same time as the real WHW race – by a disgruntled previous participant who’d failed to make the cut-off times and was rightly DQ’d. It doesn’t even merit this much of a mention in all honesty, so… moving on!
Beinglas to Auchtertyre (50 miles)
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/371375″ params=”auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_artwork=true” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /] Song for the moment:Something Good, by Utah Saints. Time to run like a ravin’ lunatic! Pump those fists!
Things took a miracle turnaround from this point on. With that fuel in my belly, I was rejuvenated and beginning to run strong again. There were a few hills that still needed a powerhike – on the way up to Bogle Glen (after crossing under the A82) and towards Auchtertyre Farm and CP3 – but I was running most of it. I was surprised and happy to come up to a couple of other runners along the way. One turned out to be the fastest girl – Fiona Ross – and it felt nice to have somebody to talk to, brief as it was. I presume they both must have passed me while I was taking advantage of the facilities at Inversnaid.
Just before entering the Bogle woods – I remember greeting a group of three hardcore cheer girls who were standing on the hillside there – covered head-to-toe, midgie nets and all. I naturally commented, “You guys are nuts!” – because, well, they were. They laughed heartily and came back with, “We’re nuts?!!”. Fair point ladies! We’re all nuts out here.
Onwards to Auchtertyre, and an amazed looking crew – who were absolutely not expecting to see me in such a healthy state! A quick pit stop here, where I learned I was in 13th place. I ditched the hydration vest in favour of bottle, for the “short” 3 miles on to Tyndrum – where I’d see the crew again. (Note to self: that is not a short 3 miles!)
Auchtertyre to Bridge of Orchy (59.3 miles)
Tyndrum came, and again my crew was blown away to see me arrive so quickly. I think we could all see that things were definitely on the mend and I was hitting a good spell. Their positivity definitely rubbed off on me and strengthened me.
Arriving at Tyndrum in decent shape!
I’d been leapfrogging another racer on the way from Auchtertyre to Tyndrum, and at Tyndrum I told me crew I thought it must be Matt Moroz. Matt was 5th the previous year – in 17 hrs – and was the guy I’d modeled my estimated split times around, so I was chuffed to just be near him. He ploughed right through Tyndrum without stopping, clearly looking to establish a gap on me. I took on a bit more fuel (after scrimping at Auchtertyre) and re-burdened myself with the fully loaded hydration vest whilst watching Matt disappear over the hill, en route to Bridge of Orchy – another 6.5 miles away. I think it took me all of 5 minutes to catch and pass him. I assured him a second wind would bring him back to me eventually, but he was looking quite grim – much like how I’d been earlier.
The run to Bridge of Orchy was glorious – with gentle rolling hills as you hug the edge of two large peaks, closely following the route of the West Highland Railway Line (as featured in Harry Potter!).
Although I reached Bridge of Orchy CP in 13th place – the same as I’d started at the last CP in Auchtertyre – I knew I was flying. The main indicator of this being that I got there and couldn’t find my crew anywhere! Again, in the true spirit of trail racing – and the West Highland Way Race in particular – people were only too willing to help out. Another crew (crewing for Patagonia ambassador Hiroki Ishikawa) loaded me up with Lucozade Sport, water and some crisps – and I’m so grateful for that. My crew did arrive hurriedly a minute later, so I was able to say hello and head off up the hill!
Turns out only Paul Giblin ran faster than me on that section, and although I arrived in 13th place, I passed 4 more people on my way out of the checkpoint. That felt like I’d hit the jackpot I have to say! And from here on, I was tracking my position more closely – knowing that a top 10 finish was reachable now.
Bridge of Orchy to Glencoe (70.1 miles)
The long climb up and over the hill to Inveroran begins immediately after the CP. Like I said, after a reasonably fast turnaround here, I banked a few places as I left – passing some more of the guys who’d clearly passed me during the sick stretch earlier. I put on a brave face and ran as much as I could up this hill – in the hopes it might quash any intentions those guys had of trying to catch me. Check me oot getting all competitive now 🙂
As I got to the crest of the hill, I noticed a large Scotland flag billowing in the wind, and then what I think was a Finland flag (??). There were people gathered here, and as I passed them a kind chap offered me a jelly baby! A yellow one – specifically – to go with my t-shirt. And at that point I realized this must by the infamous “Jelly Baby Hill” that I’d heard so much about on the race’s facebook page! Finally, I was in the know 😉 The jelly baby giver told me I was the fastest looking guy coming over that hill – which gave me massive encouragement! Though another jelly baby might have given me more..
Again, Hiroki’s crew helped me out at Inveroran Hotel – a sneaky, little known access point for crew – and gave me a glug of cold Coca Cola, which was a godsend! Hugh’s girlfriend was here too – suggesting he wasn’t too far behind me, I thought.
After this began a short flat road section, followed by the long arduous climb towards and across Rannoch Moor. This was the toughest section of the race mentally, and I’d been warned about it. It’s along an old horse-and-carriage road – all rocky and uneven, and treacherous for weak ankles – and it continues for what seems like an eternity. What’s worse is that you can see exactly where you’re heading, and it just doesn’t seem to get any closer! It’s a good opportunity to see ahead – for potential racers ahead of you – but most of the time it turned out to be hikers (and in my condition – even catching hikers was slow going!).
I tried to run as much as I could in the short patches of uneven grass or heather that randomly appeared, but it was slow grueling work getting across to Glencoe. My quads and shins and feet were burning because of the rocky path and I remember feeling sorry for poor Peter – my friend who was probably just getting started on his leg (the first leg) of the Midsummer Relay. This was a parallel relay race that started at 12pm from Tyndrum to Fort William – so effectively the last 45 miles of the West Highland Way. He drew the short straw and got the section involving this rocky road through Rannoch Moor.
I remember laying down at one point in the soft heather and elevating my legs on a mossy rock – in the hopes that it might help in some way! An American hiker passed me and said, “I presume you are OK sir?” and I said yes and promptly got up and started shuffling along again.
The sight of the car park at Glencoe Ski Center was perhaps the greatest sight of the entire day! Here I got to see my cousin Thomas (he was leg 2 of the relay) and my good friend Denis (leg 3) for the first time that day. Denis came all the way over from the US just to be part of my first 100 (ish) miler, and I’d hoped he could run with me (i.e. pace me) for the last half. But the rules over here in Europe are much different to the US – and a racer can only have a support runner if he or she is deemed to be in need of one. In this race, you have to 4 hours behind the leader at halfway – and that for sure wasn’t going to be me. So instead we signed Denis, Thomas and Peter up for the relay – giving them all a chance to experience some of the course, whilst also helping out with crewing wherever they could. Worked out kinda well. A great idea from race director Ian Beattie.
Oh man. Sheer relief at hooking up with the crew – at Glencoe Ski Center!
I learned I was 8th or 9th at this point, and filled up my water for the long section that was to come. Glencoe was a pivotal aid station in my mind. The monotony of the long water section and the long rocky section was over. I remember telling my crew there were now only three more tiny little sections we had to get through – 10.5 miles to Kinlochleven, 7.5 milers to Lundavra, then 7 miles to the finish. A doddle right? Breaking it down like this – as I’d been doing since halfway – made the distance seem much less daunting. One section at a time…
The crew was starting to realize how much liquid I now needed for certain distances, and loaded me up on water, with a bit of Pedialyte in the back of my pack (for the top of Devil’s Staircase). As I refueled and chatted with my crew, there was a friendly exchange with the two Hoka-wearing runners who’d passed me earlier during my ill spell. They were leaving as I was just arriving and we knew they were going to get eaten up pretty quickly – the way I was running at that point – and this got me all excited about potentially moving into 6th place!! The game was well and truly back on.
Glencoe to Kinlochleven (80.7 miles)
Denis ran the quarter mile with me – down to the road intersection – and I wished him the best for the relay and plodded on after the Hoka chappies. We all congratulated each other as I made my way towards them, and we briefly chatted about how thankful we were to have the Hokas on – for that god-awful Rannoch Moor stretch.
For the next few miles, I was rubbernecking most of the way – trying to gauge of the two of them were gaining on me or getting further. I’d hoped to charge ahead and put them out of sight, but I could tell they were not willing to give up and make it easy for me!
On the approach to Devil’s Staircase – an 800-900 ft ascent over about 1 mile – I ran all of the approach sections, and even some of the steeper parts, in the hope that it may dishearten them to see me so far up the hill. I hiked the really steep parts, and finally took a little break at the top to look down and eat a sandwich and drink some electrolyte drink. I chatted with a girl who used to work with my mum at the dentist, and was out hiking. Turns out it was she who had delayed my sister and crew at Tyndrum! And that’s why they were late getting to Bridge of Orchy CP. She told her little boy, “Guess where this man has ran from today? All the way from Milngavie!! And there’s two men coming up the hill chasing him”. He wasn’t too impressed. But he gave me a Chewit sweet, and I moved on.
This next section I had also reccied, so I knew how amazing it was. Fast flowing downhills pretty much all the way down to Kinlochleven (see pic at the top of the post). I could still see Mr and Mr Hoka whenever I glanced back during an open section, but felt I had a safe distance for the time being.
The leading relay racers came storming past on the steep descent into Kinlochleven, and I recall thinking that they might break their legs if they keep on at that pace! They had bibs on their front and back – making it easy to determine that they were relay racers and not just ridiculously late surgers in the long race (which was a regular concern as I looked back and saw any runner homing in on me).
The Kinlochleven descent was just brutal. I remember this being the one section where I was just grimacing and not smiling at all. Long and crazy steep, and all on hard surface. I remember looking up at where I’d ran from, and thinking that they could definitely set up a zip line there. Or a funicular railway. The quads were blazing by the end, and I knew I’d suffer later.
Seeing Allison standing on the bridge and hearing her shout out my name with glee put a real smile on my face – as I approached the residential area where the CP was. I weighed in here (they were weighing us to ensure no excessive gain of weight from overhydration), and got to the car for a sit down. My quads were in agony, but I was in good spirits. Mainly because I’d packed a couple of Red Stripes in the cooler. I absolutely demanded one here! Truth is I’d been thinking about it for a couple of miles. I felt it might take the edge off the pain. It certainly felt super-refreshing that’s for sure.
Gary told me I was 6th, and that 5th place guy was still in the CP and had came in 10 minutes earlier. And that was me – woken up, replenished, and ready for one more battle! I saw him leave the CP, and I knew from the weigh-in sheet that he was Marc Casey – 4th in 2013 and another target runner that I’d hoped to be close to.
Kinlochleven to Fort William (95.3 miles)
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/12704757″ params=”auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_artwork=true” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /] Song for the moment:The Quiet Life, by Dirty Gold. I’m coming home!
I passed Marc just as we entered the forest section after the stretch of road from the CP. Now this was proper racing! There were switchbacks all the way up a steep ascent – with varying lengths of opportunity to see the runner ahead. I would try to run as hard as I could whenever I rounded a corner – in the hope that when Marc got round that same corner, I’d be out of sight. It wasn’t that easy though. Marc was tired – yes – but he wasn’t for giving up 5th very easily. I’m intrigued to know what was going on his his head at that point.
Again, I was rubbernecking all the way up this stretch and across the Lairig Mor pass – trying to walk only when I knew Marc couldn’t see me! As with Rannoch Moor, these old military and drovers roads were harsh with uneven cobbled stones – making progress all the more agonizing on tired legs. I had no concept of distance whatsoever, so it was guesswork as to how far the next aid station was. Even the numbers from passing relay runners would fluctuate wildly! I saw lots of sheep in this stretch to Lundavra, and I thought of Denis. I knew how excited he was to see the sheep and the highland cows, and I was pleased this was the relay section he’d be doing. The scenery here was just awesome. The weather had become more overcast than it was in Glencoe – making the Mamore Mountains look dark and formidable. Out there somewhere, I knew Ben Nevis was towering in the clouds, but I had no idea what direction was even North! I’d see it soon enough though.
Arriving at Lundavra – to the “Rocky Theme”! Yaaas!
Reaching Lundavra was an absolute joy. I knew John Kynaston was volunteering here, and I was looking forward to saying hello. John’s the host of the entertaining and educational West Highland Way Race podcast, and also a key member of the race organization. My crew had made the tricky drive down there too – and were cheering as I approached. John cranked up the ghetto blaster and the “Rocky Theme” serenaded me as I arrived! A nice touch indeed at that point in the race 🙂
I told them that Marc was super close and I had to press on or he’d get me. We decided to ditch the hydration pack and finish nice and loose with just a water bottle. I could have eaten more here, and taken on some electrolytes, but instead I just got back on the trail. Maybe that was a bad decision – in retrospect.
Leaving Lundavra, Allison wailed at me to get running again! Eventually I did – til I was out of sight of her 😉
As I reached to top of a little hill out of Lundavra, I could hear the crowds cheering again – and I knew Marc was close. Those final 7 or so miles were just the worst! My neck was hurting from looking back all the time! I knew we had 3 miles of solid downhill at the end, so I just had to endure 4 more miles of up and down, run-walk-run, relentless… forward… progress. Relay racers would pass me regularly – sometimes terrifying me (being awake for 24 hours makes you jumpy!) – but most often I’d see them coming as I peered back in search of Marc chasing me.
Eventually we hit the downhill and I did the best I could to grind it down to Fort William. It seemed like the longest forest road ever. I think dog walkers might have passed me on some sections! Towards the end of the road, almost at Braveheart Car Park – things took a decisively nasty twist. I saw one of the standard West Highland Way wooden waymarkers directing you to the right – and I followed it – into a wooded section of switchbacks that ultimately popped me out on the main road, where I turned left – knowing that the finish line was just a mile or so along. As I approached the Braveheart Car Park, I saw some bright yellow race wardens, along with a very familiar-looking runner emerging onto the main road ahead of me. My heart absolutely sank. As I approached the wardens, I asked desperately if it had been a relay runner and they said, “Naw mate, he’s in the race”. BAM – 5th place gone. I asked them why he came through the car park and not the trail, and they told me there’d been spray paint on the road to direct racers straight ahead at the particular junction I’d went right at. I was fuming! They told me it happens every year, which didn’t do much for my fume levels! How could I be so daft?
In hindsight, I should have bypassed the warden chat completely – and just started gunning it after my 5th place guy – because in the end I almost caught him! Finishing 15 seconds ahead of me, I can only imagine the shock he must have got when he heard my crew fervently shouting my name after he crossed the line. I’m fairly sure I was on sub-6 minute mile pace for that last section of road – little did he know!
Crossing the line at Fort William. Look at the shock on 5th place man’s face to see me behind him now!
It was a real shame that the race ended on such a disappointing note. It took a lot of kind words from my crew to block it out mentally and focus on the fact that I’d still pulled off an amazing race. And Jeez, I was 95 miles from Milngavie – on the same day I left! 95 miles from home. Get me a beer, some fish and chips, and a cozy bed please 🙂
Freshly showered and smiling again – with my “Piss Drunk Crew” relay boys
Thanks so much for reading (an endurance activity on it’s own!), and bring on WHW 2015! The next biggie for me is a nice flat Rocky Raccoon 100, in Texas, in January. Canny wait.
Lessons Learned
A lot went very well for me, and my crew did a damn fine job – which I am immensely grateful for. None of the crew parts below are criticism at all. I’d like to just call out a few learnings – which might help my own or someone else’s future attempts at this race. Some of these we managed, some not!
Don’t venture into bogs! Wet feet will cost you.
Start slow and reign in your pace. Temptation to run faster early because it seems easy is the forbidden fruit of ultras!
Be patient and work through the field, rather than staying near the front from the start (unless you are Paul Giblin or Robbie Britton). I suppose I kind of inadvertently did this.
Never walk in the last 5K. Finish strong, or risk being caught by someone who does.
Use drop bags when given the opportunity. You might just need that extra energy boost if something unexpected happens.
Check for day-of-race course markings. Don’t just rely on permanent trail markers – they may be overridden.
Run a happy race and stay positive. Enjoy yourself and show your love for all the people out there volunteering and wishing you well. Now you’re just doing a whole 1 or 2 weeks of mileage in one day. Smile! 🙂
Crew – get there well in advance of runner expected arrival time! Miracle bursts of speed occasionally happen 😉
Crew – have a big car or van. It’s amazing how much stuff a runner thinks they need! And if you’re all overnighting it afterwards – factor in all those bags too.
Crew – plan based on section distance. Distance to next aid station determines amount of hydration and food needed. Runner needs to clearly brief on this.
Boston Marathon morning. Classic yellow school buses line up to take the 30,000 runners (!!!) 26.2 miles to Hopkinton. The smoke is from an earlier truck fire, but eerie – given the circumstancesCompare to the tranquility and natural beauty of the Big Sur course. This is Bixby bridge looking up to Hurricane Point (roughly half way). Amazing right? Right
Song for the moment:Bright Whites, by Kishi Bashi. Just saw him live the other night and this song sums up the sort of lust for life that comes from standing atop a little rock off the Big Sur coast – with wild, merciless Pacific Ocean waves crashing all around. “Standing on the Ragged Edge of the Western World” – as they say up there (on the fridge magnets).
Well well. What a month April was. Yeah yeah, I know, it’s almost June as I post this (EDIT: it’s June) , but I’m lazy OK!
So for the first two and a bit weeks in April I was hosting my entire close family (that’s my big sis Nadia, bro-in-law Gary, my two super-energetic nieces Lyra and Alva, and my mum) – all shoehorned into my two-bed San Diego apartment. It was a blast – going to Legoland, the Zoo, and all the places you get an excuse to go to with the kids 🙂
Me ‘n’ aw the family at the zoo. From left: me, Lyra, Mum, giraffe, Nadia, Gary and Alva.
After living like The Waltons for all that time , and being on uncle-ing duties, the prospect of flying across the country and back, doing two marathons over six days, and getting precious little sleep along the way – actually seemed like relative chill 🙂 And you know what, it kinda was.
So what is Boston 2 Big Sur all aboot?
Oh, so glad you asked! Boston 2 Big Sur is a special challenge that the Big Sur organizers put on where they allocate 400 or so entries to folk who are also able to get into Boston and are willing to pay a little extra – and in return get a special jacket, t-shirt, custom medal (and significantly bigger balls :p). The two races are typically a couple of weeks apart, so there’s usually ample (ha!) time to recover. This was one of those outlier years – where the gap was just 6 days. So the whole thing attracted a very particular kind of maniac (e.g. me, and the incredible Mike Wardian – who won the thing). I was late to register, so I got myself on the waitlist and just held out for a few dropouts – once Boston registration/qualification was over. Sure enough, some folks didn’t make the cut, and I got the email giving me my custom code to go sign up! Stoked! As they say here 🙂 The main Big Sur race registration sold out in a silly 59 minutes last year – hence the need for this more creative (desperate perhaps?) approach!
So yeah – it began with a phenomenally loud and proud Boston Marathon on April 21st (a Monday – Patriot’s Day – as always). Six days later, on the Sunday, it was the complete opposite – with 26.2 tranquil and stunningly scenic miles along California’s route 1 from Big Sur to Carmel. I had been planning to go hard at Boston and shoot for a PR, and just sit back at Big Sur and soak up those hills – whilst taking in the incredible surroundings. Buuut, I’m not much of a planner… I did anything but go easy at Big Sur. In fact, it was probably the proudest performance I’ve ever had out of these little legs of mine 🙂
To make matters worse even better, I had a trail 50 miler planned for the weekend after Big Sur – at Bear Mountain, New York – but that sadly and calamitously fell through after I noticed that I’d neglected to actually purchase a flight there 🙁 (and this is why I really should get into the business of planning things!) No worries though, I had a backup race that I’d already registered for, the Red Bull Wings for Life World Run in LA! Which was a race with a twist: where the finish line is actually behind you, in the form of a chase car!! This also ended up being a marathon – more or less – and bizarrely, Mike Wardian did this event too (Florida though, and won), making it 3 races in 3 weeks where we synced up. Entirely unplanned! Just similarly lunatic minds it would seem.
Anyway, I’ll start with the grand ole Boston tale…
Boston
Nicely done Boston. Nicely done.
After running Boston last year and being so close to the awful events that took place, it was important to me to show my support for the race and for the people of Boston, so it was a no-brainer I’d be going back this year. Plus, if I wanted to do Big Sur, that was the only way in. All the more reason.
I flew in on the Saturday this year to avoid extra time off work. Accommodation was at a friend of Al’s – in a lovely Charlestown town house – nice and far from the hustle and bustle and marathon madness that takes over the city. It was just a short leisurely jog in my super-soft Hokas (still warming to those guys) to the race expo downtown on Sunday. Trouble is, I missed a bridge and ended up doing about 12 miles roundtrip – the afternoon before the race. I therefore totally blame that for my failure to PR in the race 😉
Dinner at Maggiano’s. I watched and waited patiently for beer to arrive. Was looking for something less carbo-loaded than Italian. Low fat diet – another tale…
After a jolly little Maggiano’s meetup with the old RVRR faithful (Gene, John, Bob and others), Al arrived on the Sunday evening from a family visit in Pennsylvania, and we grabbed some tasty Moroccan eats. I’d like to then say we got promptly to bed, but that wouldn’t be right at all! The reality is I think I managed to tank six or seven local (strong) craft brews with our hosts – right into the wee hours – before wobbling up the stairs to my nest for the next three or so hours! I’ve never had such little sleep for a race!
In the morning, I got to Boston Common and wonderfully luckily got spotted by Zsuzanna and Barry and their gang. I knew they were here but hadn’t expected to find them. We took the schoolbus to Hopkinton and tried to catch some zz’s on the way. Oh man is that a long bus trip! Really puts the fear of God into you when you start thinking that you have to run all the way back.
Only a bunch of marathoners could looks so absurd…
In Hopkinton, Barry’s crowd had a generous friend with a fantastic big New England home that we got to bunker down in before the race. This was amazing – because it was so chilly outside! Fresh coffee was provided, and the hosts were just super kind all round. The gentleman was a musician, and had entire band room in his converted barn. I really didn’t anticipate banging out a drum riff (albeit a very mediocre one!) just half an hour before the Boston Marathon.
So what was I talking about? Oh aye – a race. Yes. being the lucky swine that I am, my 2013 Boston-qualifying time from Philly (2:52:41) also qualified me for 2014 – banking me a nice wave 1 corral (the same corral as Barry actually – probably from the same qualifying race too!).
The race went just dandy for the first 13 miles (jeez, how many Bostoners have said this I wonder?!) before the old heavy legs started to set in. I was very conscious of those early downhills – learning my lesson from last year – but even so, the course really did get the better of me once again. My legs were hammered by mile 20 and the pace slowed a bit. Perhaps I was just suffering from dejection because my chief crewer (call yourself a girlfriend?? sheesh!) didn’t manage to see me as planned 😉 In the end I ran a decent race and finished 2:55:44 – not a PR, but it’s Boston, and still a good 2 and a half minutes off last year’s time.
The crowds were just out of this world loud – WAY more so than even my NYC marathon recollection – and this perhaps led to my little legs motoring a wee bitty harder than they probably should have. Oh and those Wellesley girls were doing their usual thing too – only five billion times louder than normal!
Those Wellesley girls! A lot of high fives were dished out, a LOT of kisses, and a whole ton of noise. I remember being in a group of runners and us all looking at each other in complete awe when we got past that section and noticed the massive drop in volume!
It was lovely to see some old RVRR buddies out there. I think they snapped this pic of me passing them and I was super excited and surprised when I heard their cheers among the massive indistinguishable noise that seemed to perpetuate throughout the whole course!
You can pretty much tell how happy I was to see Shannon’s unbeatable grin as she and other RVRR folks somehow made themselves stand out from the huge crowd!
Apparently Mary saw me too at the finish. It would have been great to catch sight of her (long time no see!!), but by that point I think I was completely oblivious to all extraneous happenings! Huge congrats to my buddy Mike Anis (his own blog here) – who ran a ridiculous 2:34:18! And obviously hats off to Meb – a San Diego local (who I ran a race with this weekend!!) – for the well-earned win in a hard-fought race.
After the race, it was pretty much straight back to the house and off to the airport! Then a nice 3 leg journey to the diagonal opposite side of the country – where I got a few hours sleep before hobbling into work – on a nice post-race high thankfully. Gotta love Southwest Airlines for comping all runners with unlimited free beer and applause!
Big Sur
OK – now this is the main event! Boston is, well, Boston. It’s the aspiration of many a marathoner and is a fantastic event to be involved in for sure. But I’m no city slicker. I’m in my element in the elements. So let’s be honest, Big Sur was the race I was most excited for out of these two. It more than delivered, and I’ll say right now – everyone should make this a race to do at some point in their lives. Run it, walk it, whatever… Just be part of that rare occasion where that entire stretch of highway is closed, and is handed over to a few thousand sleepy eager folk – who each get to bask in that clean ocean air, soak up the incredible scenery, and just feel ridiculously lucky to find themselves in arguably the most beautiful place along America’s Pacific coast. Take me back please!
The drive up from San Diego was a long un! Al and I left on the Friday evening and stayed over in Bakersfield – before finishing off the journey in the morning, via Paso Robles (where we stopped at a lovely winery on the way back and got nicely wined and cheesed!). We got to Monterey at lunchtime, grabbed the race swag, did a quick TV interview for the local news (!!), got the token picture with Dean Karnazes, then headed for our Airbnb accoms!!!
The TV news girl was really into the whole Boston 2 Big Sur thing! And accents!Dean and his mum! He signed his new book – which you also get for doing Boston 2 Big Sur. I LOVE FREE STUFF!!!Our amazing Airbnb accoms in Carmel!
Quick note on the accoms. I won’t be revealing where it was – because it was so frickin’ amazing that I want to make sure it’s there next time! Suffice to say, it was in Carmel and was walking distance from the finish – which turned out to be a very good thing.
We spent the rest of that day driving the course, and holy crap is it hilly. Even the flat bits are hilly – I swear! It was a beautiful day, and we had some lovely beers at a little bar in Big Sur village (we brought back some surprisingly great beers – including some BrewDog Punk IPAs – from the attached liquor store), before heading back to base in Carmel. We actually stopped as the sun was going down and managed to see a pair of whales jumping about in the ocean!!
We dined on all sorts of crap that night, using the little granny kitchen to reheat some low-carb/high-fat cheesy, tomatoey, eggplanty slop I’d brought with us. Al got pizza – quite right! I think I was pretty tired because I only had one beer I think – a BrewDog I believe! Sleep didn’t come easy because I was so damn excited!!!
I awoke at the crack of dawn – as I am getting used to now – threw on my race gear, grabbed my drop bag, some Nuun (no coffee – unprepared!), and threw myself into the car. Al drove me to the middle school – where I hopped onto my second school bus in 6 days, and set off on the long dark drive down the coast to Big Sur station. It was so early, and we had a ton of time to kill. I was delighted to find vats and vats of coffee waiting in the runners’ village there, so I grabbed a couple of cups and plonked my ass on the ground for the long wait.
Lots and lots and lots of sleepyheads crammed into one very small space before the race!
The sun came up and race time was eventually upon us. It was a bit of a farce to be honest, with people really wanting to pee or poop, but there being a real shortage of portajohns. It was so busy in there. I had to poop in the woods – not for the first time – and I felt kinda bad leaving my toilet paper out there. “Thanks nature!” – as my friend Jay would say!
I got my clean little butt to the line right at the front of the “fast” corral they had put together. And then they announced the elites… I’d had no idea until this point that Mike Wardian was going to be there – let alone that he was there trying to break his own Boston 2 Big Sur record. A perhaps larger surprise too was Ian Sharman (his blog post here). Suddenly I found myself mere footsteps behind two of my idols from the ultra-running scene! I wished Ian good luck and reminded him we’d shared an ice bath once – at North Face Wisconsin the year he won. It was very romantic 😉
National anthem, some pleasantries, and the race was off! Down down down – through the forests of Big Sur, towards the point where the trees meet the ocean, upon where your eyes are just blasted with the magical views that basically continue for the rest of the entire race.
Writing about it so late after the race, it’s hard to remember details, and I’m sure you don’t care too much, but I just recall those joyous downhills, followed immediately by equally joyous (yes!) uphills. For some reason, my legs just loved that combination. Unlike a flat race, where it’s all the same monotonous impact on your body, this was varying all the time. One minutes you are busting your quads flying almost uncontrollably down a long steep hill, and before you know it your body’s saying “thank you” as you engage your glutes and hammies for a long, steady climb up to the next peak of the rollercoaster ride. It really did feel very comfortable – compared to Boston.
The music along the course wasn’t your usual Rock ‘n’ Roll tat that’s so prominent these days. Hell no. We had a dude playing a baby grand piano after the Bixby bridge (after the hardest of all the climbs). There was the ominous beat of the Taiko drums at the bottom of that 2 mile-long climb too – really driving home what was upon us. Not many cheerers – due to the roads being closed off and nobody really having access, but the regular flow of race walkers were offering kudos all they through – especially when you pass them on the uphills and try to look all strong and like you’re nowhere near out-of-breath 😉
For me, the race was just about perfect. I controlled my pace at the start, and was able to cruise past a ton of people later. I’m learning that passing people in itself is a great motivator to keep running strong. Being passed is of course the worst – so I feel bad for those guys (just a bit!). I can’t say much more about strategy really because I basically just ran with a huge grin on my face, eyes all over the place looking at each new rugged bit of coast as it appeared around each corner and over each hill.
I do recall starting to feel pretty sluggish at mile 23, and being very appreciative of the crowds that were forming then. Allison had told me about the amazing strawberries up there I think, and sure enough at Point Lobos at mile 24 there was a huge stall dishing out free gigantic fresh strawberries to everyone. I filled my hands and ran with them cupped – fulla strawbs – for the next half mile or so. Oh man I can still taste them when I think about this! They totally fuelled my last 2 miles – which were as always the longest miles ever! But I got there, and I exceeded all expectation I’d had – with a time of 3:00:46, and 18th place overall. I seriously had looked at those hills the day before and figured I’d be way over 3 and a half hours – so yes – I was deeeee-lighted 🙂 In the end, I was 8th overall in the combined Boston 2 Big Sur challenge – leaving plenty of scope for improvement! Mike Wardian wrapped it up and beat his own record by 10 minutes.
Closing in on the finish line – at Big Sur Marathon. Great shot Allison!
Afterwards, I got entry to a sweet little VIP tent for Boston 2 Big Sur runners, where I grabbed more strawberries and some beer, before meeting up with Al – who had cheered me across the line with a bunch of randoms she’d recruited! It was then a super short walk back to the accoms where an ice bath was much needed, followed by a nice warm bed 🙂 We still had a night to spend up there and a long drive back on the Monday – which was just the best!
Have I mentioned how much I love California??!! Here’s some more of the best bits. Thanks for stopping by!
The beach at Carmel – gorgeous!
Post-race dipping of the feet with Al – in CarmelWaves crashing into the rocks – at the end of a cheeky little trail Al found on the way back – near Big SurA very cool tree – on the secret trail we found!An endless sea of basking elephant seals – near San Simione on the drive back
Sunrise at The North Face 50M in the Marin Headlands. Photo courtesy of Hawkeye – via The North Face Endurance Challenge Facebook page (2011)
Hey hey! So I’ve been really quiet on the blogging front over the whole of November – despite being super busy doing very blog-worthy races in beautiful places. To sum up, I amazed myself by placing 4th in the Catalina Eco Marathon (it amazed me because it fell just a few short days after a gnarly Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim experience!), and on Thanksgiving I landed 10th in the XTERRA Topanga 15K up in the splendour of the Santa Monica mountains.
So this past weekend it was another amazing TNF 50 in San Francisco. This stunning course never fails to destroy me – with it’s insane amount of relentlessly steep and consistent elevation change. Yet it’s the course I return to year after year, and love with an absolute passion. Ask anyone who knows me, and at some point I’ve probably forced them to hear me out on why this place is such a must-visit, magical location. Starting any race by torchlight under the stars is always amazing. Couple that with the mind-blowing vistas looking out to the lights of the Golden Gate bridge beyond the silhouettes of the headlands, or peering down upon the sleepy streets of Sausalito as you wind your way up higher and higher on the thrill ride that is the Bobcat trail at 6am. Now throw in a splash of Pacific Ocean on your left – as the sun slowly rises and adds an element of colour into the mix. Even just looking ahead, or behind, is a sight to behold – as the only thing to take in is the massive stream of headtorches slowly weaving their way up the hill. No phones, no headphones, no watches. no technology. OK, maybe a few hundred headtorches… No Twitter, no Facebook, no distractions. Nothing to peel your eyes away from the beauty that is the outdoors. Running in the tranquility of darkness here in the Marin Headlands never fails to remind me of all the things that are important in life…
[soundcloud url=”https://soundcloud.com/moby/the-perfect-life” params=”” width=” 100%” height=”100″ iframe=”true” /]
Song for the moment: The Perfect Life, by Moby
Race Report
Race Date: Saturday 7th December 2013 Location: Marin Headlands, San Francisco, CA Organizer: The North Face Endurance Challenge Series (Sponsored by GORE-TEX) Summary: 50M trail race (50K, marathon & shorter distances available) | 1 loop – with out-and-back section at half-way for catching sight of the elites, some killer climbs, and more than a few quad-busting, agonizing descents (FUN!!) | ~19,300 ft elevation change | SUPER SCENIC | Technical singletrack and fast dirt trails | Aid every 3-6 miles Winning Time: 6:21:10 My Time: 8:22:08 (46th place) | 10:04/M Website: http://www.thenorthface.com/en_US/endurance-challenge/san-francisco-championship
The North Face race village, with the Headlands looming behind
The Day I Beat Dakota!
OK, mark this date: Dec 7th 2013. For it is the date I beat the legend that is Dakota Jones! Granted, he had the flu, but nobody needs to know that 🙂 I really had my money on the 22 year-old wonderkid to get some timely revenge on 2013 nemesis Rob Krar – especially after Krar’s decision to run (and ultimately drop out of) the JFK 50 last month. More fool me. Krar absolutely nailed it once again this weekend, and walked away with the well-deserved $10K booty. What a way to end a phenomenal year for the king of the unkempt-bearded mountain men. A really great summary of his accomplishments in the ultra scene this year (including his utter destruction of Dakota’s very own fastest-known-time for the Grand Canyon double crossing) can be found on Ian Corless’s blog (consider subscribing to Ian’s Talk Ultra podcast too – if you like all things to do with running crazy far).
Well, aside from the huge field of elite athletes toeing the line at the North Face’s Championship event this weekend, there were also another 400 or so regular Joes like myself – battling away in the bitter cold to test our mettle and endure those 50 frickin’ hilly miles.
Weather was a wee bit on the nippy side (I could have done with my arm warmers for the entire race instead of tossing them to Allison at mile 9!), but perfectly clear weather and a bajillion times better than 2012’s mudfest. This was my revenge race for last year, where I chose to bail at the end of loop 1 on what was a modified course because of the inclement weather. No such thoughts this year. I was finishing – regardless of weather – and was gonna smash my 2011 50 miler time of 9:16! Oh yes. That was the first 50 miler I ever ran by the way – so really I had to beat that time or else I’d be very sad 🙁
Meet the Crew!
I’m going to refer to my girlfriend Allison a lot in this post, as she was my solo support crew on Saturday. Not being from a running background, this was new territory, and she did an absolutely kick-ass job. I really don’t ask for much in a race, but having someone there for me at those crucial crew-accessible aid stations gave me something to really look forward to – as the pain and negative thoughts started to creep in later on. For Al to come all the way to this race was a total privilege for me, and giving her a big sweaty hug and a salty kiss every time we parted was the least I could do to repay her. You are welcome! But seriously, thank you. You are amazing. 🙂
Al and me keeping warm at Mission Dolores Park, San Francisco
The Actual Race Report
OK I’m going to speed this blog along as I have a habit of over-embellishing as you can see. The race got started a little late at 5:01am for the celebs, and a minute later for wave 1 elites, then wave 2 – where I was. I was like a kid at a theme park when I saw all those superstars that I’d been following for so long, and was kind of bummed that I wouldn’t get to brush shoulders with them. Once they were off, they were GONE! Next time I’d see them would be at the out-and-back section just before halfway – where I’d need to jump out of their way as they came hurtling past in the other direction.
Ultrarunning stars. Rickey Gates on left, the bearded Rob Krar right of center, blocked by the massive Cameron Clayton in red jacket
After a couple of miles of solitary running and reflecting and stargazing and staring at the snaking parade of headtorches on the hillside, I quickly found a buddy as we cruised up the initial “baby” climb of 800ft up the Rodeo Valley Trail. Just two years prior I recall finding this to be an absolute monster! Not this year. It was relatively effortless in fact. That maybe elevated my ego a little – making me think this could be a very good day. No harm in that right? Confidence? So I rolled with it – taking care not to get too carried away, and trying to control the heart rate as best I could. The guy I was running with for these few miles was Alex Kurt of Minnesota. I thought I was brave in my shorts, t-shirt, armwarmers and gloves. This guy was in a friggin’ racing singlet! At 5am, in 30-something degree temps! Crazy Midwesterners. It was his first North Face event, his second 50M, but he was clearly gunning it. We spoke of past ultras, and I learned that last year he ran one of the toughest trail ultras out there – the Superior 50M, at Lake Superior’s north shore (I’ve since researched and found they do a 100M next September – on my birthday! Destiny? Perhaps…). We’d cross paths again many times during the race, and never got separated by more than a mile I’d say. We worked off each other a lot.
I got a little ahead of Alex on the downhill into Tennessee Valley aid station (he was running a wise race – saving those quads for later; he’d be back). At the aid station, I grabbed a few potatoes, handed over my gloves and armwarmers to my trusty crew member Al, then trotted on down the section of road leading towards the Pacific, and the Coastal Trail. Here I met yet another chap I’d be seeing a lot of over the next 6 or 7 hours: a German chap named Stefan, from NY. This was his birthday! And his first 50 miler. What an absolutely perfect way to spend your birthday. We chatted for a bit then I pressed on, but I never really got much ahead of him. He’d later pass me and ultimately beat me by just 19 seconds. Same with Alex. In fact, we all finished within 2 and a half minutes of each other.
By the Muir Beach aid station a few miles later, the sun was up and we could ditch our headtorches. That reminds me, I never did get that headtorch back… Anyhoo, now the real running/climbing began. I always find running in the dark almost seems effortless. And sure enough, once the light kicked in, everything seemed way harder! I think it’s that sense of sight – where you can actually see what’s ahead of you. And when that thing ahead of you is the seemingly endless 1600 ft climb to Cardiac, that can really start to bear down on you. Having those breathtaking views of the ocean on our left was more than a consolation though 🙂 It was a real hard slog getting up that longest climb of the day, but we managed it, and sure enough Stefan, Alex and I were all fuelling up at Cardiac aid station (mile 18) together. We were a third of the way!
From Cardiac, the 50 milers leave the shared 50K course and head off along the Matt Davis Trail – a technical singletrack section looking down towards Stinson Beach, where we’d be heading soon. This leads onto the Coastal Trail again where a 2.8 mile out-and-back section begins – where some lucky folk get to see the leaders face-to-face as they make their way back along the tight, winding trail. I saw the lead pack of about 10 runners (with Rob Krar hanging out at the back) thunder past me with about 2 miles til the turnaround – meaning they were 4 miles ahead after 22 miles. That equates to about 40 minutes at my pace. By the time I reached the turnaround aid station, I’d counted 50 people ahead of me. That’s when it hit home that I wouldn’t be winning 10 grand that day 😉
I also saw the lead women, including Magdalena Boulet, Michelle Yates and my personal high point – Emelie Forsberg! Woulda been nice to see Killian Jornet in the flesh, but he didn’t start pacing Emelie til Stinson beach… (I asked Al and she didn’t recall seeing him. I should have briefed her and had her take photos!) No sign of Rory Bosio at all 🙁 Tough day for her.
After the turnaround, and the brutally steep descent into Stinson Beach, I got to see Al again at the aid station – where I refilled, grabbed a few glugs of some Hammer Nutrition Sustained Energy (mixed with 3 Berry Nuun to make it semi-palatable), pocketed some hummus wraps, and hugged her farewell for what would be a long, long time til Tennessee Valley (almost 20 more miles!). I was thankful for the immediate ascent that faced me, as it felt like a fine excuse to walk and nosh down on some good solid food. I typically get sick at mile 30 – with all the energy gels and sugars I take in. I could feel it coming on, so I skipped a round of gels and just sipped water and forced some solids down my neck. That seemed to work, so that was a little victory for me.
I don’t even want to talk about the next few miles. They were horrible. That climb back up to Cardiac is awful. The famous Dipsea Trail steps make you question how anyone could possibly run up there! Powerhiking’s the best I could muster, and even then my legs were feeling pretty done in. Getting out of those trees and into the open air reminded me I was close to Cardiac (the aid station, as opposed to “arrest”). I saw Alex up ahead (he was dominating those hills, but even that one took it’s toll on him) and I got a jog on. At the aid station I saw Bryan Powell who was doing his live broadcast for irunfar.com. I asked who was leading, and sure enough he gave the 3 names of the ultimate podium winners – Rob Krar, Cameron Clayton and Chris Vargo. I was sad that Dakota wasn’t mentioned.
I sped through Cardiac aid station (mile 30) with just a few cups of cola and a much needed water refill – and set off on what was to be another quad-destroying descent into the Muir Woods National Park. The 50M course meets up with the 50K course here, so there was a lot of passing to be done. It’s nice to get all the “good job”s from the folk you pass. Makes you feel much faster than you know you actually are, and those positive vibes were always reciprocated right back. 50K is no mean feat either!
This 6 mile section of the course – to the Old Inn aid station – seemed to go on forever, but it was certainly a gorgeous run through those giant redwoods, and had a lot of fun, runnable, rooty sections where a lot of passing could be done. I briefly bumped into Erica Teicheira – who I’d met at the Coastal Series 50 Miler just a few months prior. She was doing the 50K, and had it not been for her, I’m fairly sure I’d have taken a wrong turn down there in the woods 🙂 After reaching a road crossing, I was dejected (you do turn into a bit of an over-emotional drama queen after 35 miles) to find there was no aid station there. A little Englishman advised me it was another mile (argh!), as he ushered me back into the woods. I was so certain there’d be aid at that road, that I’d tanked all my water. Thankfully the Old Inn aid station came pretty quickly and I was replenished.
Alex and I hooked up again here, chowed down on some spuds, and set off on a 3.5 mile trot along nice flat terrain – through some crazy high grass on the Redwood Creek Trail – back to Muir Beach. Cramps were starting to kick in big time in my calves. I felt like my compression sleeves were literally holding my muscles back from bursting out my skin! Not pleasant. I worked through it though by running in a style that can only be likened to running on hot coals. I wasn’t looking forward to the hills I knew were about to come upon us…
From Muir Beach, you are sent back up the steep hill you came down hours earlier. At the “top”, you now turn left onto a fire road that takes you even higher. This was a complete walkathon. Everyone was walking here. Mainly 50K runners, since the 50M field was so fragmented by this point. Alex was a godsend. We each took turns to run ahead for a bit, then walk – while the other would catch up and repeat. It wasn’t pretty, but it was a system. And we were passing people.
That relentless climb takes you to a crest with amazing views across the entire Headlands, and dumps you out on the super-fast, steep, winding Miwok Trail back down to Tennessee Valley. I snuck past Stefan and his pacer again here, as his quads were really hurting him.
I was so pleased to get here and see Al again. And not just because I got to dump all my gear with her and run light and free for the last 6 miles to the finish 🙂 Having her there raised my spirits so much. And the crowds here were phenomenal – giving a ton of much appreciated support to all the runners (apart from one arrogant a-hole I would hear about later).
I got back on the road and straight into the big climb up to the Bobcat Trail that would take us to Alta and home. I was running maybe 100 yards then walking 50 – for this long uphill. Once it opened up, then I got to open up too. Word has it that Rob Krar was hammering out 5 minute mile pace at this point! Me – more like 10. But it was all good forward progress. At the Alta aid station I learned it was 2.8 miles home. I knew the last 0.8 was on the road, so that was just 2 more miles to go in my eyes! And I didn’t walk any of it. I could almost taste the cold beer that was waiting…
Seeing the finishing village as I turned the corner to the Headlands Hostel was just the best! The magnificent red North Face arch was there waiting for little old me to come and pass under it. I clapped for all the supporters who were out there cheering us all on, and crossed the line with a smile in 8 hours 22 minutes and 8 seconds – close to an hour faster than the first time I ran these 50 incredible miles.
Another day, another North Face medal. That red arch just gets me so excited every time I see it! Maybe it’s cos it looks like a bouncy castleBirthday boy Stefan finished seconds ahead of me, so this merited a manlove photo
Much beer was to follow! And a fun weekend all round 🙂 Cheers!
A very tough run for everyone, on some some tricky trails and a super hot day. Seemingly a little longer than 50K – according to some reports (someone’s Garmin logs suggest otherwise) – but fun as always, well marked, and great company along the way. Another solid win for Mike Dixon. 4th place for me, and my third top five finish in my last three ultras!
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Song for the moment: All My Friends, by LCD Soundsystem
All my trail running friends! MOMA!
Race Report
Race Date: Saturday 28th September 2013 Location: Ringwood State Park, Ringwood, NJ Organizer: Rick and Jennifer McNulty – NJ Trail Series Summary: 50K trail race (25K and 7M available too) | Not for the navigationally challenged | 5,000 ft Elevation Gain | Scenic | Technical, hilly and very rocky. Not for the barefoot runner | Aid every 3.5-7 miles Winning Time: 4:42:32 My Time: 5:24:36 (4th place) | ~10:00/M Website: http://www.njtrailseries.com/mountainmadness
Another Saturday, Another Ultra, Another Bloody Flight Across America
Ha. OK so that sounds REALLY grumpy, and in actual fact this was the race I was looking forward to most – since I knew I’d get to see so many of my NJ buddies all in one happy place! So this was the third ultra trail race in an eight week spell for me. Pretty bad planning really, but I’m quite renowned for that to be fair. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt as I got ready to toe the line at Ringwood State Park. Squeezed in between these three races was: a flight to San Francisco (for the San Fran 50M race), a local half marathon in San Diego, a flight to Seattle, a flight to Scotland (!!), a flight to Wisconsin (for the North Face 50M race), and now – finally – a flight to New Jersey. I’m thinking that has to be over 20,000 miles over those two months!! In anyone’s book, that’s a lot of sky time, and a hell of a lot of time travel – with all the timezone weirdness. In the build up to this final race in my sort of ad-hoc trifecta, I could definitely have benefited from A LOT more sleep. But hey – it is what it is. Just one more easy little race (well 50K seemed little – compared with the two 50 milers) and I can get back to San Diego, settle down, catch up on some rest and basically chill out – til maybe December! Well, just like the last two, it was anything but easy.
Coffee, Mozart, The Fear and Invisible Bears
My good friend Denis was kind enough to house my homeless ass during my trip back. Denis – you are welcome in San Diego anytime! I owe you one for sure. I actually got a solid sleep on his little boy’s bed, then we hit the road early, grabbed some good strong coffee, and made our way to pick up Tom and Elaine.
My rental car didn’t appear to have AUX (later I discovered it actually did have USB, but hey), so thankfully we’d grabbed some of Denis’ finest compact discs before leaving. Nothing like a bit of Mozart’s Requiem to get you pumped for a 50K!
This – I think – is the first time I’ve headed to a race with Elaine. She’s so funny. Every so often I’d hear a big sigh or a groan from her in the back seat. Turns out it wasn’t because of my terrible jokes – or Tom’s or Denis’ for that matter. Elaine just gets really damn nervous before these things! Which I find a bit bizarre given how she does ultra races almost weekly these days!
As we pulled into Ringwood State Park and winded our way up to the car park, Denis and maybe someone else caught sight of a big black bear on the road ahead! By the time I looked it was gone though, but there’s video evidence somewhere on facebook of us all going a bit bear-crazy in the car for about 30 seconds! Naturally Elaine panicked that it might end up on the course!
Shoe Dilemma!
I really am like a big girl these days – the amount of shoes I am amassing! Just the day before the race, a nice shiny red pair of Salomon S-Lab XT 5‘s arrived from runningwarehouse (pic below!). After running this course last year, I remembered the sharp rocky paths – and the punishment they inflicted on my feet with just my little New Balance MT 110 slippers on! I recall audibly squealing with every footfall at certain parts of the course! So I figured I’d go for something more supportive this year, but not go as crazy as the HOKA or anything like that (despite temptation!).
Well after wearing the Salomon’s for the flight over to NJ (can I really call that breaking them in!?), and doing a quick scamper around the car park in them, I quickly saw sense and slipped into my trustworthy old stalwarts – the MTs. Maybe I’ll do a few practice runs in the csome more rugged hiking or snowy trails – when I might prefer the extra clunkiness.
Oh Aye – The Race…
Yep, so like all NJ Trail Series races, there was no big song and dance about the start. People just gathered into some sort of flock, and Rick let us loose. This is a notoriously tricky course to follow the markings on – since it shifts from one trail to another quite frequently. If you don’t know the trails already, or don’t want to carry a map and gaze at it every half mile, it’s best to stick with someone who knows what they’re doing! That said, you should always be looking out for yourself too, otherwise you’re liable to both get lost together! I ran with Dave and Dixon and Denis for the first 5-10 miles, and boy was I thankful to have them there. The one time I thought I’d try and lead the pack and push the pace, I literally lasted 30 seconds before I missed a marker and ended up skulking along at the back again!
We all noticed an early pack of runners had shot ahead and were well out of sight very quickly. The consensus was that they were mainly newbs, and they’d likely get lost – fast. Nonetheless, Dixon – being the favourite for the win – eventually felt the call of his Kenyan gods, and sped off up some switchbacks and set off in chase of them. I made a bit of a move here too – to up the ante a little. I had a brief trail chat with Jason – who had came charging up and moved ahead of us – before dropping the hammer a little more and moving into what would be nearly 20 miles of solitude. This is definitely the downside of getting competitive in these races – you can be all by your lonesome for a long time!
The legs felt pretty good – as they tend to at the start of races – but as always I pushed it a little too hard too soon and very quickly felt the consequences. My first powerhikes began before even mile 15. I was pretty disheartened by that, as I knew I wasn’t performing at my best. I was also extremely SLEEPY! I seriously wanted to just curl up into a ball and go for a nap! I actually thought about making a little sign asking Denis to wake me when he passed. Which in retrospect was a dumb idea because Denis was only about ten mins back!
I knuckled down though and hammered out the miles, and it was clear I wasn’t the only one. I still managed to pass a couple of those early speedsters despite my lethargy. After the turnaround point in the out-and-back section, it was awesome to catch sight of everyone – starting with Denis – who had an awesome run – then Dave just behind, then eventually Gene, Molly, Matt, Elaine, Tom, and a surprise sighting of Andi Grumet and Kate Tuckerberg, and even Srini! That always lifts the spirits! Going back up that big hill was agonising though – and I lost a place here (eventually this guy would beat me to that 3rd place and the $25 booty!).
From then on, it was getting really hot, and water was disappearing fast. I remember really struggling to conserve water between the aid stations for the last two sections. The second to last section – back to the race start/finish area (before you head back out on the mountain bike loop) – seemed to just go on forever! I had a grumpy 25K runner beside me – who just kept whining about how much time he’d lost because of the markings. And he kept tripping up and falling too. I think he thought I was a 25K runner too, because he really tried to stick with me. I heard him fall one more time as I disappeared round a corner and I did a bad thing: I kept running. He’d already fallen about 3 times trying to run beyond himself – and I’d stopped and helped him up and reassured him each time – like I know others would do for me. But I was getting stressed out by his antics and negativity and had to escape!
Thirsty Work on the Last Loop
Just starting the last 7 mile loop of the course – around a relatively simple mountain bike path – is a bit of a victory really. Because it’s always so tempting to just bail at mile 25 – which is actually the start/finish area – where there’s hot food, cola, beer… You gotta just fill up, and throw yourself back out there – and know that you’ve done all the hard work, and you’re just an hour and a bit away from all those glorious treats!
I knew from the last section that my water was going to be the biggest concern. I had a single water bottle that I’d filled up, and I sipped at it very sparingly over those last 7 miles. It was hot out. I was desperate to pour some water on my head, but couldn’t. I hauled my bones around that loop pretty much parched in the mouth the whole time. Each little trickle of water I treated myself to felt like the best thing in the world! And I’d be instantly looking forward to the next one – which would probably be another 5-10 minutes. When I was down to just 1 sip left, I really hoped I was close to the end – because I really wanted to drink it! As soon as I saw other runners, and the loop rejoined the main course, I knew it was now the end game. About a mile to go. I sucked all the water and all the air out of that water bottle and let loose – reinvigorated by the liquid, and the knowledge that cold beer was imminent!
Popping out of that forest and seeing the lake – with the finish party underway at the other side – was just the best feeling. I got a few cheers from folk who were out on the road, and from other brave souls who were just heading out on their own final 7 miles of thirst! I crossed the line in 4th place, and went straight for the cola! Damn it tasted good.
Thanks Rick and all for putting together another fantastic event in glorious New Jersey!
An awesome shot taken by Sally at the start of the 50K
Fun times in picturesque Wisconsin! Thanks for checking out blog post number 2! Tis another long one I’m afraid! I’m still learning!
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Song for the moment: Recover (Cid Rim Remix), by CHVRCHES
Race Report
Race Date: Saturday 14th September 2013 Location: Kettle Moraine State Park, Eagle, WI Organizer: The North Face Endurance Challenge Series (Sponsored by GORE-TEX) Summary: 50M trail race (50K, marathon & shorter distances available) | 1 loop – with long, arduous out-and-back extension for 50M course | ~6,300 ft Elevation Gain | Scenic | Non-technical singletrack and sandy trails | Aid every 3.5-7 miles Winning Time: 5:38:49 My Time: 7:02:41 (5th place) | 8:28/M Website: http://www.thenorthface.com/en_US/endurance-challenge/madison-wi
Why Wisconsin of All Places??
Well, not just for the cheese. My friend Lauren – having already ran the nearby Ice Age 50K back in 2012 – decided that she was ready for the big step up to the 50 mile distance, and this one seemed like the perfect choice. The North Face Wisconsin race is coined as being an ideal introduction to the distance – with it having the least technical terrain and having the lowest elevation change of all the Endurance Challenge Series races. After I learned that Lauren, along with Heather (also her first 50M), Sally (doing the 50K) and Kyle (doing the marathon) were all flying out from NJ for the event, I figured it’d be another great destination race weekend – so I got on board too for the 50M.
And since I ran it back in 2012, I figured it’d be a perfect “benchmark” race – where I could see how much improvement (if any) I’d made over the last year. Trail races are not like your typical races where you can take your time from one race and try to compare it to another. The trail technicality and elevation change makes each course very very different. So running the same race again can give you a really tangible way of assessing your progress.
Setting the Target and Training for Battle!
Last year, I finished 8th overall on this course with a time of 7 hours and 30 mins. So, this year, the main target was to get as close to 7 hours as possible (I wont lie – I wanted to beat 7 hours!). Looking at previous years’ results, I figured sub-7 would maybe even earn me a top 5 place. And I knew from last year I’d done A LOT of walking – on hills that I’d happily scamper up these days. A lot of that was down to my living and training environment at the time. I worked (and effectively lived) for a year (Feb 2012 – Feb 2013) in a Chicago suburb called Naperville. It’s flat there. Extremely – and excruciatingly – flat. I recall posting on a forum to ask where any good hills were nearby, and people suggested things like multi-storey car parks, or pedestrian overpasses! I did a little bit of car park running out there, but it was a bit sketchy to say the least. Runners are few and far between in Naperville – in general – so most drivers don’t really look out for them as any sort of force of habit. Now imagine the attentiveness of said drivers in a multi-storey car park – far from the domain of any sane runner. I think I did that twice before succumbing to the grumpy, horn-tooting buggers hiding behind their tinted-windowed SUVs. My training was all distance back then – with hills only being a luxury of my occasional weekend trips back to New Jersey or elsewhere.
Compare that to now – where I reside predominantly in San Diego and can run up and down hills to my heart’s content! And that’s what I’ve been doing pretty much on a daily basis out here. Mileage has varied between 40 and 55 miles per week, with a little 50 mile race in San Francisco thrown in there too back in August. And the America’s Finest City Half Marathon – also in August – where I got to test out my speed!
In the buildup to the 2012 Wisconsin race, I was also coming off of a long period of recovery from an earlier back injury that had ruined my winter season (including my snowboarding trip to Whistler!). So all in all (and to cut a long story short!), with there was clearly scope for some improvement on last year’s time.
Veggie Powerrrrr!
Diet has also been a big changing factor with the move – but that’s definitely for another post (when I get around to writing it!). I’ll just say that I’ve been heavily invested in a healthy plant-based, organic diet – after being inspired by the recent“Eat & Run”, by Scott Jurek, and also “Finding Ultra”, by Rich Roll. In the latter, a man in his forties transforms from a lethargic, sedentary, obese, downward-spiraling lifestyle – to competing (with success) in double marathon distance races and ultramarathons. All through a plant-based, whole food, vegan diet. And of course – lots of physical training.
Pretty much every day of the working week I’ll make myself a power smoothie of kale, beetroot, spirulina, apple, carrots, mangos, limes, or whatever else comes to hand. And then there’s the usual hipster foodstuffs – like quinoa, brown rice, sprouted-grain bread, almond milk, miso, lentils, beans, edamame and such. I actually love my diet right now, and have never enjoyed eating more. I can’t say I’ll ever be truly vegan (I literally just ate a boiled egg with Tabasco!), but I am near enough off of animal products – and I feel healthier, more alert, and stronger for it. Stay tuned for another article on my veggie habits!
5am: Headlamps On.. It’s Race Time!
30 seconds til race start! Cool as cucumbers. Where’s the rush? It’s 50 miles!
The race – like all North Face 50M races – set off at an ungodly 5am. Thankfully Heather managed to locate Lauren and Kyle (Kyle who was out supporting 4 hours before his own race!) and we got to sneak in a quick team photo (above) 30 seconds before the start. I then shuffled my may down to the start line – where ultramarathon man Dean Karnazes was finishing off addressing the athletes – as he likes to do at these things. As the announcer gave the 10 second warning, headlamps were switched on, watches were readied (not for me thanks; I don’t need that distraction!) and we set off on our merry march into the darkness.
From the start, I wanted to remain in the top 10 – so that I could keep track of my position (single digits are much easier to remember!). It’s always easy to get carried away and think that you can go a bit faster in those earlier miles. But today, I definitely took heed of previous experiences of burnt out legs come halfway, and tried to control my pace in the hope my body would thank me later (as it turned out though, my quads were still on fire by mile 25!!).
Running in the dark, in the middle of absolute nowhere, is just the most tranquil experience ever. It’s just you and that single cone of illumination in front of you. For that little hour and a half , you are alone with your thoughts – with no external distractions. It’s definitely got a meditative feel to it, and is always my favourite, most memorable part of any ultra that I start with a headlamp.
Somewhere between 5am and 6:30. I would befriend the guy behind me and hang with him for another 15 miles.
Run Rabbit, Run!
At the first aid station at Scupernong (6.9 miles in), I had hoped to dump my headlamp. But unfortunately it was still dark out, so I had to carry on with it. I knew my next drop bag wasn’t til mile 21, so I’d have to wear that big bulky device for another 2 hours of running. It was here that I paired up with the then 6th place runner Alex Leon for what would be another 15 miles of running together. Well actually we got talking when we both found ourselves off course after missing a right hand turn in the darkness. He was clearly a fast guy, with a half marathon PR of 1:18 and a 2:50 marathon under his belt (compare with 1:22 and 2:52 for me) and a second place in his first and only other 50 miler (6:35). I told him I’d happily try and stick with him for the whole race. He modestly branded himself as the rookie and said he’d be happy to finish in 7:30. I knew from the pace we were going, we were well on for a 7hr pace though. And so we continued to work off each other – taking alternate turns as the rabbit. This kept us on a pretty fast, but still comfortable pace all the way through dawn and beyond, and I don’t think I would have ran as good a race as I did if it weren’t for Alex’s help.
After about 15 miles, you emerge from the forest into a prairie section of the park. This place was just mind-blowingly scenic as the sun rose – showing off the thin layer of mist above the fields of wild grass that we carved through on our little singletrack trail. My feet got wet pretty quickly – thanks to all the morning dew over the trail. Alex and I continued to take turns to rabbit, with me eventually feeling the need to pull away and build up a gap (not so much because I wanted to get ahead, but because I knew I needed to poo!! And I didn’t want to lose my valuable friend and rabbit!).
The Twist…
It was all going so well! And then the hurt began. This started pretty much when the hills started. And that was after the McMiller aid station (21.3 miles in). I got rid of the headlamp finally and grabbed a big swig of Hammer Sustained Energy from my drop bag. Alex and I hit this aid station at the same time, and when I saw him darting off, I finished rummaging around in my bag and grabbed a water refill from the aid station (7.1 miles til the next aid station – is a long time when you’ve just ran 21!). As I got back into the forest, I was baffled as to why i couldn’t see Alex ahead. I got myself quite demoralised actually. First of all, I’d lost my running buddy – leaving me wide open to all those pesky desires to just stop and walk when things get tough (machoism reigns supreme when you have a running buddy!). Secondly, I felt like I’d slowed ridiculously, if I could let Alex get so far ahead of me so quickly. 7th place was not where I wanted to be! This was definitely the lowest point of the day. Well, as it turned out, Alex had actually went to the toilet at McMiller – which was why he was nowhere to be seen! And all the time I thought I was falling further behind, I was actually building a gap!
The rolling hills of the out and back section between McMiller and Road Z (28.4 miles in) were torturous. I forced myself to run as much as I could, but I knew I had to do it all in reverse on the way back to McMiller, and that prospect wasn’t an exciting one. I got to see the leaders though, which was nice (they were sooo frickin’ far ahead of me!). When I asked at Road Z what place I was in, they said 5th. Eh… Whit??! I argued that they must be mistaken. I was certain I was 7th. I was definitely confused why I hadn’t seen Alex, and that’s when it dawned on me that he must’ve got behind me somehow. Still, that only put me in 6th. As it turned out, the 5th place guy had taken a bit of a fall and had to bail or slow right down before the halfway point, and that’s what had led to my surprise place improvement. Suddenly I was rejuvenated! It was GAME ON AGAIN!
Leaving Road Z, I saw Alex coming in, and suddenly it all made sense! I also saw 2 more guys close behind him and figured I’d better get motoring for the remaining flat section before the hills began again.
Don’t Forget to be Sick!
So I seem to have this thing where I’m sick in every 50 miler I do – at around 30 miles in. I don’t know if it’s the gels or what, but my stomach just does not like all the sugariness that I typically ingest during these races. I tried my best to fight it and look strong as the other racers cheered me on as I passed them during the return leg of the out-and-back, but eventually it was really starting to affect my pace. So I pulled up and let loose by the side of the trail, twice. A passing runner (she was cute!) was kind enough to ask if I needed them to get help from the nearby aid station, but I assured them this was standard and par-for-the-course for me! As in previous races, I felt a lot better after this, and I proceeded to just eat basic solids (like potatoes and, well, that’s pretty much it) for the remainder – along with drinking plenty of water. I really need to stop with these gels and see if I can get over it.
Despite my smiles, I was feeling pretty sicky!
After returning to McMiller, and seeing Lauren and Heather (for a second time actually!), it was finally time to escape the 50 miler course extension and get back onto the shared course (where the 50K and marathon runners were now evenly spread). Just before emerging from the woods and rejoining the road, I remember feeling pretty whacked. I actually lay down on my back and did some inversion and some stretches to try and remedy the now useless quads. All I managed to do though was cover myself in pesky little prickly things off the ground! They took miles to get rid of! Upon reaching the road, I saw the now 6th place guy emerge about 100 yards behind me, and I thought “Sheeeeit!”. I figured he had to be gaining fast and my 5th place hope was now rapidly fading.
I soldiered on, running every hill I came to – apart from the monsters. And it was during these monster hikes that I’d look back and see him coming at me. One time I even heard some 50K runners behind say “50 miler! Good job!” and I looked back and he was 50 yards down the hill from me (I bet he was pissed off they’d given him away)! Those were not pleasant miles at all. I remember thinking it’s much easier mentally to be the chaser than to be the chased… But somehow I kept him behind me. I guess he was hurting just as bad.
The Final Push
Somewhere between the complete mental abyss that was mile 40 through to the final aid station at 45.6, I recall thinking that I was actually going to make it – and potentially even hold off the guy behind – if I could just keep making any sort of forward, non-walking progress. That’s when I started thinking about beer, and visualising the finish area – specifically crossing the line under the big red inflatable North Face arch. I thought BRIEFLY about pulling some sort of finish line move. Anything even mildly gymnastic was clearly off the table. And that’s when Miley Cyrus crept into my mind. Right when my brain’s usually robust teeny pop defence systems were down, in she crawled. So I thought – can I twerk my way across the finish line? Do I even know what a “twerk” looks like? Picture me grabbing my crotch MJ-style, and grabbing the back of my head – whilst running, on sand, with water bottle in hand – and trying to make some sort of bizarre sexual grunting expression. Yeah – not pretty. I shelved the idea instantly, but had a wee chuckle. (I later learned from my more pop-culturally-aware friends that I needed to stick my tongue out – kind of like a really thirsty dog – for it to be a truly recognisable Miley; bullet dodged!). Well anyway, that little mind wander inevitably left me with Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” playing away incessantly on repeat in my head (it took me about 10 minutes to even notice that something seemed a bit samey…).
Thankfully I was able to switch out of worst DJ ever-mode and back into competitive race-mode with the arrival of the final aid station. I grabbed a final salty potato (stomach was not accepting anything else after the barfing) and exited swiftly without the 6th place man catching up (he was close though – I could see him approaching and really hoped he didn’t have a final kick left in him!). 3.8 miles to go? That’s a 5K and change. Easy (I say now!). As I left the aid station, I asked the girl at the aid station for the time. “What he say?” is what I heard back. “Ya got the time?” I shouted back in my best American accent. “11:32am”. OK… math time! That left me 28 mins to complete a 5K plus 0.7 extra. I figured I could squeeze out a 22 minute 5K, leaving a comfy 6 minutes to hammer it home. In retrospect, that was pretty bad math. At my pace at that point (8:30 min/mile), 26 mins would have been more on the money – just for 5K – and 32 mins for the full 3.8. So, realistically, the damage had already been done – in terms of finishing sub-7 hours – from all the hill-walking (and flat-walking!) I’d done earlier on. Nonetheless, that little mental miscalculation gave me all the drive I needed to beast out those last miles and see it home. It was flat. Very. But I quickly realised I had precious little left in me, and I opted to carry on with the current pace – just to make sure I didn’t balls it up completely. Coming out of the forest after a seemingly endless 5K and seeing the cops (or park rangers?) gave me a massive lift! I knew from this point on it was paved road all the way to the end. You quickly hear the din of the finish area festival and the finisher announcements and it’s just a simple matter of digging in for what is a pretty negligible distance given how far you’ve just came. Turning the final corner – off of the road and onto the grass of the finishing chute – the crowd seemed to be going crazy (turns out they hadn’t seen a 50 miler come through in almost 40 minutes!). I clapped them and felt that uncontrollable grin come on. I glanced at the clock and saw the time of 12:02:something-or-other. “That’ll do me fine!”, I thought. With total elation, I crossed the line as they announced my name. “Let’s hear it for our 5th place runner: Lindsay Hamoudi, from Highland Park New Jersey!”. Naturally, the only appropriate thing for me to do was to pump my fist! All thoughts of Miley Cyrus completely eradicated – thank god.
Fist pump at the finish. Andy Murray would have been proud!
Looking Back
I was delighted with my performance on the day. Winning my age group and finishing top 5 in a North Face race is a huge deal for me. I know there’s still scope for improvement (less pooping, less barfing, less wandering off course, less lying down, less walking, less twerking, etc), so I will no doubt return again next year (hopefully with another entourage of friends!) and see if I can get under that elusive 7 hours!
Nutrition wise, I’ll probably start running with whole foods – like dates, raisins, nuts, seeds, etc. Or even pita and hummus – a la Scott Jurek. My body just doesn’t like these sugary processed products, and I need to start listening to it. One thing that did help though I’m sure was the Salt Stick caps. As tired as my legs were, they were able to keep motoring on thanks to these little babies.
As for shoes, my trusty New Balance MT110s were fantastic as always. I can’t see me switching to Hokas any time soon!
And as for the company, well, see picture below. You guys are awesome! We need to do more of these destination races methinks.
A collective 207 miles between us all. It shows right?
Well here it is – my first proper blog post! I just wanted to capture the awesomeness of this trail race I ran last Saturday. Hopefully it helps paint a good picture, and maybe attract some fellow runners to add this – or another Marin Headlands (and/or Coastal Trail Runs) race – to their calendar. This is my third year running these trails in some shape or form. That’s how much I love it here. I’m even on the waitlist to come back in December for The North Face 50! Here’s hoping…
Song for the moment: California Sunrise, by Dirty Gold
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Race Report
Race Date: Saturday 3rd August 2013 Location: Marin Headlands, San Francisco, CA Organizer: Wendell Doman, Coastal Trail Runs Summary: 50M trail race (100M also available) | 2 x 25M loop | ~10,000 ft Elevation Gain | Scenic | Non-technical singletrack and dirt roads | Aid every 3-5 miles Winning Time: 7:45:07 My Time: 8:26:15 (3rd place) | 10:08/M Website: http://www.coastaltrailruns.com/sf100.html
Intro
This was the inaugural year for this event in the spectacularly scenic – and rather hilly (10,000 ft for the 50M; 20,000 for the 100M) – Marin Headlands, just across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco. It was a reasonably small field – with possibly sixty to seventy 50-milers, and maybe twelve or so badass 100-milers (some of which are still out there as I begin writing this the following day – from the pub!).
Race director, Wendell Doman – formerly of Pacific Coast Trail Runs and rescuer of the 2012 Sea to Skyline 50k – definitely pulled out all the stops and made this a fun, friendly and memorable event from start to finish. Everything just exuded quality throughout – from the awesome Salomon race jerseys (seriously, Salomon!!), to the fantastic course markings (the “blue is bad” ribbons at every conceivable junction were a stroke of genius sir!), to the well-stocked and frequent aid stations, and a finish area so packed with good food (Jesse on the grill, and Jenni on the soup kitchen!) and “suitable refreshments” – that kept many of us hanging around for hours afterwards. Add in those unbeatable views of the rugged Pacific coastline, of Sausalito from high up in the hills, and even some little glimpses of the majestic Golden Gate Bridge (bay area fog-permitting!), plus a bit of sunshine (well I definitely got sunburnt!) – and you have a recipe for a perfect day in the outdoors. Which it most definitely was!
Those “Washing Machine” Loops
The course design – two 25 mile loops – initially had me concerned I have to say. When The North Face shortened their own 50-miler in December 2012, due to torrential rain and subsequent National Park restrictions (check out this weather.com slidedeck), they came up with a similar two-loop replacement course. I was already in town when the bad weather hit, so I enthusiastically took it on (many did not even start). However, I decided to bail at the halfway point, with the excuse that it was just too dangerous out there with all that mud and fog – and on such steep descents – with hidden cliff-edges lurking everywhere. That said, I do feel that had it been a single, one-way, 50-mile course, I’d have most likely seen it through – just out of sheer necessity! I mean what choice do you have when you’re 25 miles from where your car is? And this is where my concern lay with Wendell’s course, since loops always introduce that tormenting mental dilemma for me, where a cold beer and a hot shower are within reach and seem irresistibly appealing – especially after twenty-five or so grueling miles. And so it was that this admittedly lame DNF (in case my Mum’s reading – that means “Did Not Finish”) in December ultimately led me to register for this particular race – purely to defeat that nemesis of a course that had been niggling away at me for 8 months! Job done I think.
Anyhoo, where was I? Oh aye, the course design… The loopy layout definitely surpassed my expectations and then some. These were not your standard loops. Oh noooo. This was the first time I’d heard the term “washing machine loops” coined – where you effectively run a loop to the finish line, then repeat – only in reverse. Smart that! The course does actually seem completely different in the other direction – which really spices things up – and I think is something many race directors could learn from. I loved it! So much so I’m going to subject you to this recollection of it…
Loop 1 – Clockwise
As you can see from the course map, you start from Rodeo Beach and immediately head up and along the Coastal Trail (little do you know that this long initial uphill will cause you a world of pain when you come back down it at the end!) – with the Pacific Ocean constantly vying for your attention (and winning! I tripped a few times!) on the left – and then back down to Tennessee Valley and the first aid station. You then get a mile or so of flat, then it’s up, up, up – until you overlook the awesome Pirates Cove. A steep, technical descent (well.. there’s steps – so not that technical really, but who’s writing this – me or you?!) pops you out into a lush green valley – a pleasant change from the dusty dirt trails – then a short traverse takes you along to begin a long series of switchbacks leading back up the other side. This is one of those excellent spots for gauging where the rest of the racers are, as you get a huge window of visibility from one side of the valley to the other. This was handy on the way out – where you could see who was ahead and take comfort from seeing them walking any hills, but terrifying on the way back – where you could look back and see who was chasing you down and looking for signs of weakness in you!
Once you get back up out of the valley, and have the ocean by your side again, you get to open up the legs with a fun and fast downhill into Muir Beach area and some much needed aid (I was blown away when they told me I was only 7.9 miles in at this point!). Load up on salts and bananas here to replenish those hammered quads as best you can. At this point you switch over from orange to pink ribbons for the remainder of the loop. These will guide you back up the hill you just flew down (definitely a walker!) until you eventually reach the crest (or so you think…) and turn inland to leave the orange ribbons behind. Another long and steep hill is instantly placed in front of you, and you begin to feel like you’ve maybe overdone it and might need to walk the remaining 40 miles. Eventually, the gods show a bit of mercy, and present you with a wonderful flowing downhill to Tennessee Valley again – via the awesome Miwok trail (I recall chatting to then 5th place runner about how much we were looking forward to running back up there… not!).
Mile 11ish – flying down the Miwok trail to Tennessee Valley. Thanks Nate D for the snap!
After the aid station, the pink ribbons lead you up a super long ascent – and it almost feels pleasant to engage the glutes after relentlessly hammering the quads on Miwok. Follow the similarly non-flat Bobcat trail onwards to Rodeo Valley and another aid station checkpoint. At this point you can savour that one-third-of-the-way milestone. It contented me to think that – due to the mirrored loop design – the next time I passed this point, I’d only have a third to go. The only immediate challenge in my mind was to just get through that middle third – whatever it chose to throw at me – and get myself back to this point. That’s how my mind chose to look at the situation: I figured I’d be in a much happier mood knowing there was just 13.x miles to go, and so that’s all I cared about – getting there! That’s one of the most liberating and fulfilling things about running crazy races like this – for those many hours on the trail, you have no option but to shut out all extraneous sources of stress, worry or concern, and just focus on getting through those individual, self-imposed, nothing-else-matters challenges. And each one you tick off feels even better than the last – right through to crossing that finish line.
After a couple of oddly flat miles in Rodeo Valley, you then start the hard slog up and down the SCA trail. Watch out for mountain bikers, bobcats, and snakes! I watched a snake slither across the trail just 10 feet ahead of me! I was so physically drained, I didn’t even have the energy to jump out my skin as I would have liked. I spoke to someone at the end and they showed me a picture of a bobcat on their iPhone! (Looked a bit like a fat house cat to me though!). After bottoming out in yet another valley (so many valleys… ), it’s then straight back up (the Coastal trail this time – past the best aid station ever for getting inside info! See later!) to the eventual heights of the southern Headlands – where you get some mighty fine views of the bridge (I really wished I had my smartphone at this point – it was that impressive! And I’ve seen that bridge a bajillion times before). You then get to hurtle down the tarmac roads past the visitor centre and back to Rodeo Beach. It was nice to say hello to the race leaders as they set off on their return – not a hint of discomfort on their faces. Dammit!
Pat yourself on the back, fill your water bottle, and get some tasty eats! That’s you half way! Many confused tourists will stare at you like you’re a maniac (hard to really argue with that at this point), but some will see you have a race number on and give you a cheer and maybe a clap. Oh you wonderful people – if only you knew how much that helped!
Had to be reminded to cross the timing mat at half way. I went straight to a bench and sat down!
Loop 2 – Counter-clockwise
Wendell squeezes a hell of a lot of action, and hills, into those 25 miles. And then you get to do it all over again in reverse. Well not literally – although there were times when I tried running backwards (and even sideways – crab-style) just to give my poor quads some brief respite. There was definitely a lot of walking in the second half – with my split for that half being a full 40 mins slower than the first. That said, I was fortunate to be in 5th at the half way point, with a decent ten minute gap back to 6th, so for me it was really all about just hanging in there. 5th place would have rocked my world – I’m not going to lie – but to my amazement, I was able to gain a couple of spots and finish 3rd overall. It was not without it’s fair share of drama though.
There was definitely a really nervous moment back at Muir Beach – with eight miles to go – and 4th and 5th and 6th all literally entering the aid station as I left (I was guilty of spending A LOT of time at those final aid stations – chatting, and scoffing potatoes and drinking them out of coke – in the hope that maybe my legs might mend themselves soon).
Those last eight miles were far and away the most nerve-wracking eight miles ever, with me looking over my shoulder constantly, and scanning the switchbacks at every vantage point. Despite thinking I could see Rick – the 4th place finisher and pretty much my shadow for the first half of the race (until sadly his hamstring slowed him down) – in the distance every time I looked back, I was actually building up a bigger gap. I made it home nearly twenty minutes before the next runner – so clearly fear and panic are what’s needed in these types of affairs!
The End is Nigh…
I have to take you through the last part of this race. What a fantastic feeling to crest after your last ascent out of Tennessee Valley – via the really unfairly steep Wolf Ridge trail – and to be able to look down and actually see the frothy swells of Rodeo Beach and the finishing festival already underway (the winner came through a cool forty minutes ahead of me!). It seems so close, and you just want to make a beeline for it – and get to that coveted ice-cold IPA – but no. Hell no! That would be way too easy. Instead, as one final act of torment, the course sends you weaving your way round a series of switchbacks – forcing those already fiery quads to take even more downhill abuse. You kind of already knew this would be how it would end, because – well – it’s a mirror image of how you started the race (just 8 hours earlier!). But I think the mind can be forgiven for letting go of this little memory after 50 miles, and instead perhaps romanticizing a gleeful trot (and maybe a roly-poly or two – a bit like this) down to those very welcoming looking tents!
That last mile and a half was seriously nothing but pain, bearable only by the promise of beer! And when you reach the car park, and that cute little ad-hoc finishing chute of baby traffic cones, and get your little moment of applause and cheers, and find yourself grinning wildly as you cross the finish line – you realize once again why you do this to yourself: to endure everything that course can throw at you, and to overcome it. To prove to yourself what’s possible – if you just choose to get out there and bloody well get it done. And – most crucially of course – to get to that precious cold beer! Ohhh yes! And who can really complain at spending the best part of a day scampering around some of the most beautiful stretches of trails in America? Not I.
Sun’s out – guns out! I soaked two t shirts in this race. Then the old chafing of the nips kicked in bad at mile 35. Ouchy!
Thanks Volunteers! For the Heads Up!
Like any top-notch ultra, there was no shortage of goodwill and very welcome comic relief exuding from the many aid and stations along the way. It’s always an amazing sight to come bursting out from the bushes – with no water left, after an hour or so battling with various hilly obstacles – and see the oasis that is the aid station up ahead. Even better when they are staffed by fun and friendly, knowledgeable folks – as was the case on Saturday. I couldn’t help but spend a few minutes at each stop, drinking as much ice cold Coca-Cola and ramming as many potatoes and Goldfish down my neck as possible. Well done volunteers – you truly were the lifeblood of the whole event. And with the looping nature of the course, there was that familiarity of encountering the same faces on your return leg – which was nice!
What’s even nicer is when you’ve leapfrogged a couple of positions and they’re like, “Whoa dude, you are cruising! And 3rd place is only two minutes ahead!”. To which I ask, “How’s 3rd place looking?”. And they tell me, “He’s pretty beat up man. Says he’s crawling up every hill”. Which leads me onto a big lesson I took away from this event: never ever tell aid station crew how you are really feeling! Just tell them you feel awesome – always! As a racer, it was so useful to get the inside scoop on how the race ahead was developing. This was a first for me – being truly competitive like this. As regretful as it is to say this, it really helps motivate that extra push when you know the guy ahead is close by, and – even better – is on a total death march (sorry Luke!). I’ll definitely be asking a lot more questions at aid stations from now on!
The whole situation immediately reminded me of the section in Scott Jurek’s “Eat and Run” book where he talks about how ultra racers who are competing at night time would turn off their headlamps when they saw another runner ahead, just so that they could sneak up behind them undetected then switch on their full beam and blaze past them – leaving them absolutely bewildered and mentally dejected. I tried to be a little more courteous though as I passed my runner – just in case the tables turned later in the race!
Final Salute
Thanks so much to Wendell for putting such a sweet event together, and to all the volunteers – especially the fun couple at Conzelman aid station who gave me the drive to run those hills and snatch that 3rd place. And to Jesse for lending me your hoody whilst I rummaged around in in search of my car keys (note to self: don’t “stash” your keys in the bushes; you’re not fifteen anymore!). And to your lovely wife Jenni for providing the tasty organic soup. What I give no thanks for is the drunken little man who snored like a champion ALL NIGHT in the hostel and kept me awake way longer than I cared to be awake. But still, I came 3rd in a race!!! Wheeeeeeeeee!
Chumpionee! 1st in age group, 3rd overall! My first top 3 finish – in a proper race – that didn’t involve chugging lots of beer!
