Sometimes the second time is even sweeter! Especially where's there's personal redemption for "sins of recent races" involved! That's certainly the way it was for me this past Saturday at the Mountain Masochist 50 Mile+ in the scenic Blue Ridge Mountains of western VA. My race, the company, the weather, the warm camaraderie of this quintessentially "ultra ultra"--everything seemed just right on this Indian summer November weekend!
Quick Overview
Temps were right at the freezing mark as we started at 5:30, but got up to yjr mid to upper 50s, maybe 60, on the nice mix of single track, jeep roads,dirt roads, and finishing and ending pavement that comprises the gorgeous course of this point to pointer. It was a bright sunny day with plenty of fall color, although a little past peak compared to last year. 267 folks started this 53mile race (with its infamous, long "Horton miles"), and 226 finished under the 12 hour cutoff.
Our pal Glen Redpath had a fabulous day, finishing 7th in 7:45. A course record of more than 15 minutes, at 6:27, was set by a team Montrail runner who came in from Alaska. This Montrail Ultra Cup race features a top elite field, and the top two women finishers were Canadian.
The other friend who shared the trip, Lisa Madden, negative split a course that is heavily backloaded in difficulty in terms of technical single track, in a time of 10:35. This was her 4th MMTR, I believe.
I'm happy to report a 50-mile trail PR of 30 minutes on my end. My goal was to break 11 hours, and yes (should I get in that lottery) I managed a WS qualifying time with a 10:53 on the last official day of 2010 qualifying! (Just as with qualifying for Boston, half the thrill is actually in teh qualifying, right?)
Thank goodness for those late downhills where you can make up for lost time! An early glute issue faded with some Advil, and ginger cubes and Pepcid AC and sticking mostly to energy chews and Heed in the latter half kept some stomach rumblings under control. Felt strong most of the way, with the inevitable bad patches,and was able to run a lot more of those long runable steep dirt-road hills than last year. Helps to know the course your training for the second time around!
I had a great time hanging out with Glen and Lisa, as we drove to/from Richmond airport and stayed at the same hotel. Glen even managed to find a brewpub for us to have lunch the day before (I passed on the brew) and see a little of historic downtown Lynchburg. We had fun at the pre- and post-race dinners, and hanging out in my room with wine and beer after the race, as Glen regaled us with out of school tales about various ultrarunning elites. Unfortunately, Garth was a last-minute scratch from our original foursome, as he got called away on some business and couldn't make the trip.
MMTR is a really special race with a family feel and is managed with incredible care and professionalism (along with, by all reports, all the other races in theLynchburg Ultra series and The Beast series). Plus Horton keeps everyone institches at the pre- and post-race dinners with his non-stop humor. A guru and pioneer of our sport since its early days, but yet he's nice enough to come upafterwards to you and say, "Great race! I saw you cross the finish line, andy ou had a big smile on your race!" Indeed, I did!
For the ultra hardcore types, please read on for the blow by blow....
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It sure helps to do a race on the same course, with some time to do some focused training. MMTR is more runable than all the other 50s I've done (except JFK), with a greater quotient of smooth dirt and about 6.5 miles together with single track and a bit gnarlier jeep roads. This time around, I trained especially for that, focussing in October on some mid-week long runable hills, which paid off. So did having a lot of last year's splits on my pace chart, and being able to know from that and experience on the course where I stood, and where I needed to push it. The net result was I made my goal of sub-11, and posted a 31 minute PR with a 10:5d (compared to last year's 11:24).
The alarm sounded at 2:20, to give me time for the usual breakfast and pre-race routines prior to making it across the straight for the bus for the 4AM departure for the start. It was just about freezing at the 5:30AM start in the pitch black. Glen, Lisa, I, and most of the runners stayed on the nice warm bus till the last few minutes, getting off only to hit the port-a-sans.
The first 5.7 miles on the road were pretty uneventful. I felt like I ran a bit more of the latter steeper hilly sections than last year. But I didn't check my watch againt my pace chart at the first manned aid station (Cashaw Creek at Aid #2). The race splits they posted afterwards indicated I was right on last year's time.
As we did the mile out and back past the starting line I recall realizing for the first time, as I looked up, what a beautiful starry sky we were running under. Crossing the bridge over the river just prior to Cashaw, the views in either direction of the water, what I recall was a dam, and sunrise over the mountains was spectacular, and I stopped to take a shot with my usual Kodak digital disposable. Feeling good and controlled so far!
At 5.7 we hit a nice section of single track that turned into jeep road, featuring a lot of climbing. It was still fairly crowded, which isn't my favorite way to experience single track. A few runners passed me, but I ran good stretches of the hills till the grade got steep, and probably passed more.
I had a brief scare about an hour and a half in, as I could feel my right glute and upper hamstring and sacrum area kind of tighten up. Earlier in the week I had experienced a lot of bilateral tightness in that same general area in my short taper runs, and had to spend a lot of time stretching and with foam rollers to loosen it up. So I was wary of it flaring up in the race, as it seemed to be now. So, I had to kind of change my gait and slow down some, and then took some Advil about 1:30 into the race, much earlier than I usually do. Anyway, that brought us into Aid #3 at Peavine Mountain. I believe I checked my chart here, and I was up maybe 2 minutes on last year's split, but a little worried that a stupid little muscular thing would undermine what was taking shape otherwise as a promising race, based on my pace and how I felt energy- and breathing-wise.
From there it was a downhill section that was somewhat gnarly but still quite runable single track, and I let loose a little and passed some folks and was feeling good. I think the combo of the meds and the faster cadence of the downhills helped loosen that whole problem area up, and it was pretty much not an issue the rest of the race, thank goodness! I always love those types of windy, gradual, semi-technical downs where you can just let the momentum carry you, and in this case they were downright therapeutic! There were a couple of easily navigated creek crossings that were rock-hoppable. That brought us into Aid#4 at mile 11.2 (these are official Horton mileages based on a 50 mile course that I report throughout, not actual mileage, which in the view of most is around 53 or so for the whole course!). Here I left with a two minute gap on my '08 pace, so I made good time.
The section to AS#5 at Parkway Gate at 14.9 was more gently rolling, and by this point things had thinned out nicely, and I felt like my pace was picking up. But according to the post-race splits, I was now up only one minute on my '08 pace.
After a short downhill on jeep road, it was on to a section of 12 miles or so that was continuous wide dirt road, some of it gravel. And it started straight up, with the longest, steepest climb of the race so far! I was conscious of the sun and the warming temps, as here we got more direct sunlight even though the road has forest cover on both sides. This was the type of section I dreaded from last year, for the combination of the monotony and the fact that I couldn't make good time despite outstanding footing due to the steepness and length of the climb--a real grind! But this year I had prepared for it, mentally and physically! I think I set the tone for the rest of the race by running good long stretches of the 500 foot or so climb (to about 2,000 ft) up to AS#6 at the AT crossing, at mile 17.5. I passed LOTS of people, who were walking, mostly in groups. I kept telling myself to run up to a particular tree or other landmark, and then when it got steeper I would allow myself brief walk breaks, but focusing on power walking, and then transition back to running when the grade lessened. I wasn't breathing too hard, so this really boosted my confidence.
I was a little surprised, really somewhat shocked, to catch up to Lisa as we approached AS#6, which is the AT crossing. I asked her if she was ok, and she said she was taking it easy, and seemed to be in good spirits. My pace chart told me I was up by around 12 minutes on last year's split, meaning I'd made really good time up that long climb. But would I pay later on?, I couldn't help but wonder a little? Yet I felt strong, and even surged ahead of Lisa and the woman she was running with at that moment.... for a little while at least!
Keeping to my pattern for the day of getting through the aid stations quickly, I simply would fill my handheld, and sometimes grab a bite of potato or banana but mostly was relying on what I was carrying--energy gels and chews, Heed (consumed 3 8-ouncers over the day), Perpeteum (1 8 oz.), Ensure (only half one bottle), and some trail mix.
The next section took us mostly downhill to AS#7 at Lynchburg Reservoir (20.2) and AS#8 at north end of the reservoir (22.3). I think it was more gravelly here, and I felt a little the pounding of the descent, after the slower pace of the previous climb. I vaguely recall I had maybe 12 minutes on my '08 pace at this point.
From here the road began to climb significantly, and in this section some folks whom I'd passed on the earlier long climb passed me back, including Lisa. I felt a drop in energy in this section. But I tried to make sure I was still eating and drinking, and wouldn't let myself lapse into walking too long on the long gradual hills. In retrospect, this my first major lull of the race, so I was a little surprised to check my pacechart at AS#9 at mile 24.6, and discover I had built around a 20 minute gap on last year's pace! This was a real mental boost, and I had also been picking up my pace a little coming into that station. But one of two things must have been happening, as I look back on it--my pace chart splits may be a little off from '08 (didn't hit the watch at all the stations) and I was further ahead of the pace than I realized at the previous stations, or I had slowed down a lot less on the uphill section from 8 to 9 this time around (I recall it being a long, slow, boring slog in '08).
Also, last year I had lost maybe 10 minutes somewhere around mile 14 or 15 with an unplanned "trip to the woods." This year I managed to stave off the stomach problems that started surfacing at various points, particularly the latter half, with a combination of Immodium, Pepcid AC, and ginger cubes and minimizing the solids.
Anyway, bouyed by newfound energy and confidence that I would have a shot at getting under 11 hours, I moved pretty well on the climb up to AS #10 at Highway 60, at mile 26.9. The views were great out across the meadows and peaks, and I stopped to take a few shots. This marks more or less the halfway point time-wise in the course, Horton always tells folks. Though what the second half of the course may lack in distance, it more than makes up for with tougher single track sections and challenging trail climbs!
I was thrilled to get into this station in such good time. It has lots of crew, a ton of volunteers, and is the only drop bag station. Remembering I had dawdled some and felt pretty spent at this station in '08, I focussed on trying to get through quickly. So in the space of 10 minutes I managed to change my technical tee (keeping the arm warmers and vest I wore with them all day), shed my gloves for fingerless biking gloves and my winter Injinji cap with ear flaps for a lighter North Face summerish cap, do a brief lube and sunscreen, swap out my two mini-bottles of endurance drinks for new ones, fill my handheld, and graba bit of food and cup of water. I felt like a man on a mission, and charged out of there feeling quite optimistic! As I looked at my watch when I left, it was 5:31, compared to 5:53 last year. I knew last year I managed to "negative split," so I was confident I was in range to reach my goal if I could just do the same this year!
It's a steep, long climb out of that aid station, back onto a narrow jeep road that is really more like double-track of sorts, all the way up to Buck Mountain. Looks to be close to 1,000 feet or so of pretty serious ascent on the elevation chart. I felt pretty good going up, alternating runing and powerwalking, compared to laboring up it in '08. As you switchback your way up the mountainside, you can hear the loud "Rocky" theme music for miles and miles, tempting you into thinking you're getting closer than you really are. Unfortunately, by the time you get there, you're pretty sick of the short tape loop, and wonder how the volunteers can stand it! Another feature of the Buck Mountain AS, #11 at mile 29.5, are the various biblical proverbs about "races" and "perseverance" posted on signs as you approach. Guess I was prepared, as I wasn't as amused or "weirded out" as I was by this mixing of sport and religion as I was last year!
From there it's a nice downhill, continuing on jeep road that gets a little wider, to AS#12 at mile 32.1, at the crossing of FS 48 and 520. I think it was a peanut better or turkey and cheese sandwich I ate at the "Christian" aid station (or was it the proverbs?) that didn't sit too well, leading me to reach for the Immodium and the ginger cubes now. If I'd avoided trips to the woods this long, I didn't want to have to make one now! I also think I may have felt the first cramping of the day here (hamstrings), so I popped a couple Endurolytes, and tried to focus on drinking more (I seldom downed a full 16 oz. bottle of water between the frequent aid stations). I moved through the descents fairly well, but not really full throttle. The legs felt heavy enough, and it was early enough, that it didn't seem to make sense to push the envelope too much. The main thing was, I was mostly running instead of walking, and I think I came into AS#12 with a 22 minute margin on my '08 pace.
From here it's a steep, dusty dirt road climb, with lots of annoying support and crew vehicles whose drivers probably don't realize how much dust they're stirring as they whiz by. I kept having to rub my eyes with my bandanna. After it being pretty spread out since the halfway point, there was now sort of a conga line of runners here, forced to one side of the road by the cars and exchanging some pleasantries about the course and weather and such. After a quick right turn, we hit AS #13A, at Hog Camp Gap, which marks the start of the (officially) 5 mile single track loop. I don't recall checking my chart here.
The rather infamous loop section first has a gradual descent with good footing, then goes up steeply for quite a while with somewhat rockier footing, up past 4,000 feet to the high point of the race at 4,400 or so (or very close to it). Then it has a nice descent, which is steep in places and gradual in others. I got passed by some folks on the initial section, and was feeling a little fatigued. I think the transition back to single track after all the more runable stuff is a little difficult on both the legs and mind. But I got back some energy on the climbs, and then was able to move quite well on the final, downhill section of the loop, passing several runners over the last mile or two. At one point, there is a particularly rocky and steep downhill I remembered well from last year, and I felt nimble enough to manuever down it swiftly, passing a woman who was carefully wending her way down and who waved me through.
Overall, I remember this loop as being incredible long and slow last year, but somehow it seemed to go by much more quickly this year. I believe I pulled out of AS#13B at mile 38.6, at the end of the loop, with something like a 22-23 minute gap on last year's time. It was at that station that I saw Steve, a guy from Maryland whom I know from Phunt 50K and is a good friend of Garth's, I believe for the second time that day. I wasn't quite sure if he was already there ahead of me, or what, as I hadn't seen him pass me after I had overtaken him miles before. No matter. He seemed a little winded, and made some comment on how tough the race was. Since I was kind of running with blinders on, I avoided much conversation, and never really found myself hooking up with anyone all day, as I often find myself doing when I'm sort of feeling in a "zone."
I dashed off quickly onto the gravel road section that followed the loop, knowing I still needed to put a couple more minutes into last year's time to get under 11 hours. The first half of this officially 2.9 mile section is steady downhill, the second steady uphill. Nothing at Masochist is EVER flat (in fact, I believe it was in this section that I told a guy just this when I thought at first he asked "isn't there any flat on this course?"...in fact, he was saying that he tried to visualize it being flat so he could manage the hills better!). I felt pretty good on this section, with the momentum from the end of the single track, and pulled into Salt Log Gap at AS#14, with my margin over last year still around 21, 22 minutes.
From there it was back onto jeep road, for a pretty steep climb up to the Forest Valley AS#15 at mile 43.0. This was sufficiently steep that I didn't do much walking at all. It kind of felt good to walk after running pretty much all the previous section, actually! I ran into Steve again at this AS, still confused about whether I was catching him or he me, but I pulled away quickly leaving it, as he and other person there lingered a little more. By this point, I didn't have any more splits to go by from last year, but as I left the station, I saw from my pace card that I was behind 11 hour pace--damn, had I given a lot of time back?! I knew these calculations assumed an even pace, and that some glorious downhill awaited the last 5 miles or so. But still I realized I would be cutting it very close!
The initial mile and a half or so of this section, leading up to the last aid station, has a lot of climbing, some of it quite steep. You go up to right around 4,400 feet again. Some of it is "hands on knees" type stuff, and I was doing the "mountaineer cross-over step" on some of it to try to redistribute the muscle burn around a bit. But I felt energetic. Then we got to the nice downhill section, which has some rolls, and a few nice ridgetop views, before you descend down to the aid at Porters Ridge at 47.1
I passed maybe 4-5 people in this mostly downhill section, who all had encouraging words, though I sensed two guys coming up on me as we hit the steep descent into the station, where I sped up and got a little distance. They were coming in to the station, just as I was leaving. I was now in full charge mode, just as I had been last year! I did ask how many miles were left, and when "2.9" came back, I asked if they were real or Horton miles, to which I got different replies from the two volunteers--yes and no! Anyway, I knew from '08 that the next section was probably more like 3.5 or so, but was also all downhill, some of it quite steep, and all of it runnable! I'm not sure what the finishing elevation is, but I believe it's less than 1,000, like the start. And if Porter's Ridge a little ways before the last AS is 4,000+, you figure in the last 3.5 miles or so (really in the space of 2.5) you are descending a good 2,000-2,500 feet easily.
I was totally dialed in now to the effort to pull off another swift finish like last year, but this time with a better cushion to build on. I don't quite recall exactly, but I believe my watch indicated that I now had something like a 26 minute gap on 11 minute pace by my chart, which meant I could just make it under 11 hours. But I knew I still had to hustle!
This section features winding, slightly rocky, gradually descending jeep road, with a lot of crossing of short little trickles that I suppose are little creeks if water is higher. Unlike the rest of the day, I didn't hop rocks or avoid them, I rushed through them. Who cares about wet feet at that point in a race?! As we switchbacked our way down the mountain toward the finish, I first passed one couple I hadn't seen since early in the race, and then another guy. At this point I could feel the rocks under the toes, and the stress on the legs. I was now moving into drinking every 10 minutes, and taking Endurolytes about that often, and on one occasion took two to ward off cramps. By myself and charging down a beautiful, wind-y forested section, I was yelling loudly to urge myself on and to sort of get through the pain of the effort. But they were glorious yells of reveling in the effort, and there seemed to be no one around to hear them!
After a couple little turns that I remember being tricky last year but well marked this, you emerged onto a gravel road, which takes you VERY steeply downhill. If you don't break, you literally FLY down that sucker! I was doing all I could not to brake, though my quads and knees were straining. As I came up along four twenty-somethings walking abreast and away from me toward the bottom (couldn't tell if they were hikers or runners, as they were walking), I shouted "Runner coming through!" They stepped aside just in time to let me fly past. Somewhere just before a guy had passed me, and he was the only one to pass me from the next to last AS on, compared to a good 8 or more I had passed over that stretch.
Just before you hit the road, you see "1 mile to go" written in chalk on the dirt road. Once on the road, it's flat to rolling, with a couple turns. I was trying to remember if it was a real or Horton mile (turns out it's a real mile!). At that point, my watch said 10:44, and I pretty much knew I was home free! The guy who had passed me was out of sight around the curves, and no one was visible behind me, so I didn't have to go into overdrive, but still kept moving pretty quickly, filled with energy and adrenaline! I had to suppress some sobs of joy, as I had also earlier back on the downhill, as I realized that a sub-11 time and a PR were in sight!
It felt awesome to be moving swiftly with no real pain as I made the last little turn into the parking area and crossed the finish line, under the beatiful late afternoon sunshine! I had a huge grin on my face, and pumped my fist! You really have to love the last 4-5 miles of this one if you're a downhiller, and this year that section brought me a special gift!
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Whatever I did right in training since we got back from Mexico on Oct. 4th, I want to bottle it and save it for future races (no, it's not for sale)! Sometimes you get into vicious cycles like I had toward the middle of the year, but sometimes you stumble into virtuous circles: better training --> improved confidence --> better training --> weight loss --> better training.
To be specific: Going back to coached speedwork classes with Mike built speed and confidence I could still run and not just dawdle. The medium-long runs mid-week at Rockefeller were perfect for building hill strength on runnable trails, as were the sessions of hill reps with lots more running than usual at the Palisades. Plus the different type of lower-body strength exercises Mike suggested. And the long runs at Bear Mountain, Palisades, and Mohonk gave me a good variety of hilly surfaces and terrain well suited for this race. Overall I packed in a lot of mileage but stayed healthy over a tought three-week peak training period. Backed off a little on the upper body stuff, and stuck to the weekly yoga., too. The weight came down (which for me is SO key), and was in the 155-157 range compared to low to mid 160s around the time of Iroquois. My confidence grew throughout, and I knew 11 hours was quite doable.
All in all, this was my best race since probably Calico in January, where I set my 50K PR. And I was SO overdue for a good race after Massanutten, Cascade and Iroquois!
Now let's see if I can keep applying these lessons...starting with Hellgate in 5 weeks! I seem to be improving at the 50 mile and 50K distances, but let's see I can take it past that toward those races with "100" in the name! But for now, I want to bask in the joy of this one for a little while!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Gorgeous Fall Run in the 'Gunks at the Wagathon!
What's your idea of a fat ass run? Would a run where you don't even realize who the "organizer" (director?) is till the after-party qualify? Or maybe one where a bunch of shivering cold runners look around at each other until someone says "let's go" in order to get the show on the road (er, trail)?!
The 4th annual (?) highly informal event known as the "Wagathon" or simply "the Wag" took place this past Sunday in the spectacular fall foliage and near Indian summer weather of the Minnewaska and Mohonk Preserves near New Paltz, NY. By following a list of turns and trails the organizer, a great guy named Felix, posted on the web and circulated by e-mail, we all navigated a series of challenging, hilly, and very scenic single-track and carriage trails in self-supported fashion, with a considerable amount of scrambling thrown in for good measure! The "course" was roughly a marathon, but most of us (I hear we were roughly 30) missed at least a couple turns at some point, so in my case and that of others around me, I think we got in a good 28 or so. It was a bit of a Jeckyll and Hyde, in the sense that the carriageways were quite runable if often steep, while the single track was often quite rocky and technical, and the scrambles were among the toughest I've faced on any organized run or race.
Friends Lisa, Garth, and I drove up to the event, along with our recently AWOL trail pal Melissa, who chose to do a shorter run/hike over part of the course since she hasn't been putting in as many miles lately (or maybe just wanted to soak in the peak foliage?!). After a god awful 5AM departure from the city, we met our friend Glen Redpath at the race finish area at 6:45 or so. His wonderful folks, visiting from Canada, were kind enough to ferry us in Glen's car and that of one other runner, Jim from CT, to the start in Cragsmoor, as the course is point to point.
The real highlights of the day were all the views--up to and down from the incredible cliffs, of the various lakes and ponds we ran by and looked down upon, of waterfalls, north to the Catskills and south to who knows which ranges and really in all directions, down from Mohonk Mountain (I think that's the name) of the spectacular Mohonk House, which looks like some transplanted European castle. Just gorgeous stuff! For much of the first 18 miles or so we were running near or right alongside incredible ridgelines. This was my first trip to these preserves, though I'd been to the general area, and I was blown away by its beauty.
This was one tough course! I think for Garth, me, and Lisa it more than served its ostensible purpose as a last long training run before Mountain Masochist (in VA on 11/7). Though mainly it was just plain fun! We got the runable very hilly dirt roads (carriageways), the slightly gnarlier versions of the same, and the hilly technical singletrack, all of which we'll face in a couple weeks on another course that also constantly changes up the surface (and piles on the climbs and descents!). Apparently, they had increased the single track quotient from previous years, when carriageways were more the focus. Fine with me! The early single track was quite muddy and at times under a few inches of water from the previous days' rains, though my Seal Skinz socks held their own. I particularly enjoyed the hand-over-fist scrambling in the Giant's Workshop, the section called the Crevice, and then in the climb up to Mohonk Mountain and the Castle around the famous "lemon squeezer" section, where you have to carefully hoist yourself up (after waiting a half hour in line with all the leaf-watchers and a group of boy or cub scouts ahead of us).
I felt pretty good. Early on when we got to single track for the first time I decided to move ahead of one group so I could try to hang with Lisa and Jim, who were moving at a good clip and seemed to have a good sense of the turns (Lisa having done the Wag before and knowing the Gunks well). Turns out I was right on the first count but not on the second---trying to be lazy on the navigation so I could just focus on the running proved to be a bad decision! We missed one turn and had to double back, adding maybe a half mile. Anyway, I breathlessly hung with them as best I could (thankfully there were occasional quick stops for route checks or bathroom breaks or photo ops!) on through the steep carriage trail that took us to a number of viewpoints.
Somewhere around mile 13 or so, though, we realized we had missed a turn. I pointed out to them that, though we had unwittingly cut the course a bit and bypassed a viewpoint called Gertrude's Nose, that it looked from the map like maybe we had cut off just about as much distance as we had added on with our earlier missed turn and backtracking. No dice! These guys were sticklers, insisting we go out and back along the steep, rocky trail down to Gertrude's, to make up for the "two legs of the triangle" we had missed. So I reluctantly followed them (still not wanting to take charge of my own navigation in an unfamiliar setting!).
The exertion of trying to keep up caught up to me, I found the faint blazes difficult to follow, and I fell back. As we came across runners going the opposite (correct) direction, I began to think, "this is crazy!" Once I encountered Garth coming my way, who I hadn't seen for 5 miles or so, I said to myself, "screw this, it isn't a race, and I'll easily put in more than the 'official' distance anyway!" So I hooked up with him, and we stayed together the rest of the day, sometimes briefly hooking up with others. As anticipated Lisa and Jim overtook us a few miles later anyway!
Like others, we had stashed water by one bridge (and really the only highway crossing) around mile 18, so that was our lone "aid stop." The rest of the course from there got pretty slow with all the scrambles mentioned above, and particularly with the long wait as people and especially kids got hoisted up the lemon squeezer (basically a hole in the rocks above you some 8 or 10 feet, with only minimal footholds between the opening and the bottom). I think we hit peak hour, on a peak fall day (it was sunny, breezy at times on the ridges, and probably hit mid 50s or so, but I kept on my long sleeve tee and vest and was fine).
Once we got through the lemon squeezer, got up to the top and the castle, and picked up our obligatory playing cards from the deck Felix had stashed there, we had to hightail it on the carriage trails (mostly downhill from there) over the last 5 miles or so. The day was getting late, we suspected we were the last ones out there (we had seen Lisa and Jim last going up to the castle), and there was the business of a beer and some German food to take care of at the "afterparty" at the Mountain Brauhaus (technically the finish, though we parked a 1/4 mile away at the Visitor's Center, and that was where the trail ended, and so did we).
I hit my watch at exactly 8 hours once we finally found the right lot among the many in a full late afternoon parking lot, which was just a bit more time on our feet than we had expected (especially given the good time we were making during the first half of the race, with its greater measure of carriageways). Somehow Glen had run the whole thing (and then some) in something like 5:30, and by the time we got to the restaurant was just leaving (beer in hand in the parking lot!) with his parents. One fast dude! And apparently two guys finished ahead of him (though rumor has it they may have been locals who took some judicious shortcuts?!).
Met some great folks from the New Paltz/Catskill area and CT during the outing. It was fun hanging out with them and enjoying a good Heffweizen and Schnitzel afterwards! The whole outing was really the epitome of the best of a fat ass event--great company, beautiful, challenging trails, an incredible setting, superb weather. Oh yeah, and no fees, no schwag, no official results or awards, no bitching--just good old-fashioned small-group trail fun! Thanks so much to Lisa for turning us on to this true gem of a event, and for organizing the whole outing for our NYC based contingent.
Can't wait for the next Wag!
The 4th annual (?) highly informal event known as the "Wagathon" or simply "the Wag" took place this past Sunday in the spectacular fall foliage and near Indian summer weather of the Minnewaska and Mohonk Preserves near New Paltz, NY. By following a list of turns and trails the organizer, a great guy named Felix, posted on the web and circulated by e-mail, we all navigated a series of challenging, hilly, and very scenic single-track and carriage trails in self-supported fashion, with a considerable amount of scrambling thrown in for good measure! The "course" was roughly a marathon, but most of us (I hear we were roughly 30) missed at least a couple turns at some point, so in my case and that of others around me, I think we got in a good 28 or so. It was a bit of a Jeckyll and Hyde, in the sense that the carriageways were quite runable if often steep, while the single track was often quite rocky and technical, and the scrambles were among the toughest I've faced on any organized run or race.
Friends Lisa, Garth, and I drove up to the event, along with our recently AWOL trail pal Melissa, who chose to do a shorter run/hike over part of the course since she hasn't been putting in as many miles lately (or maybe just wanted to soak in the peak foliage?!). After a god awful 5AM departure from the city, we met our friend Glen Redpath at the race finish area at 6:45 or so. His wonderful folks, visiting from Canada, were kind enough to ferry us in Glen's car and that of one other runner, Jim from CT, to the start in Cragsmoor, as the course is point to point.
The real highlights of the day were all the views--up to and down from the incredible cliffs, of the various lakes and ponds we ran by and looked down upon, of waterfalls, north to the Catskills and south to who knows which ranges and really in all directions, down from Mohonk Mountain (I think that's the name) of the spectacular Mohonk House, which looks like some transplanted European castle. Just gorgeous stuff! For much of the first 18 miles or so we were running near or right alongside incredible ridgelines. This was my first trip to these preserves, though I'd been to the general area, and I was blown away by its beauty.
This was one tough course! I think for Garth, me, and Lisa it more than served its ostensible purpose as a last long training run before Mountain Masochist (in VA on 11/7). Though mainly it was just plain fun! We got the runable very hilly dirt roads (carriageways), the slightly gnarlier versions of the same, and the hilly technical singletrack, all of which we'll face in a couple weeks on another course that also constantly changes up the surface (and piles on the climbs and descents!). Apparently, they had increased the single track quotient from previous years, when carriageways were more the focus. Fine with me! The early single track was quite muddy and at times under a few inches of water from the previous days' rains, though my Seal Skinz socks held their own. I particularly enjoyed the hand-over-fist scrambling in the Giant's Workshop, the section called the Crevice, and then in the climb up to Mohonk Mountain and the Castle around the famous "lemon squeezer" section, where you have to carefully hoist yourself up (after waiting a half hour in line with all the leaf-watchers and a group of boy or cub scouts ahead of us).
I felt pretty good. Early on when we got to single track for the first time I decided to move ahead of one group so I could try to hang with Lisa and Jim, who were moving at a good clip and seemed to have a good sense of the turns (Lisa having done the Wag before and knowing the Gunks well). Turns out I was right on the first count but not on the second---trying to be lazy on the navigation so I could just focus on the running proved to be a bad decision! We missed one turn and had to double back, adding maybe a half mile. Anyway, I breathlessly hung with them as best I could (thankfully there were occasional quick stops for route checks or bathroom breaks or photo ops!) on through the steep carriage trail that took us to a number of viewpoints.
Somewhere around mile 13 or so, though, we realized we had missed a turn. I pointed out to them that, though we had unwittingly cut the course a bit and bypassed a viewpoint called Gertrude's Nose, that it looked from the map like maybe we had cut off just about as much distance as we had added on with our earlier missed turn and backtracking. No dice! These guys were sticklers, insisting we go out and back along the steep, rocky trail down to Gertrude's, to make up for the "two legs of the triangle" we had missed. So I reluctantly followed them (still not wanting to take charge of my own navigation in an unfamiliar setting!).
The exertion of trying to keep up caught up to me, I found the faint blazes difficult to follow, and I fell back. As we came across runners going the opposite (correct) direction, I began to think, "this is crazy!" Once I encountered Garth coming my way, who I hadn't seen for 5 miles or so, I said to myself, "screw this, it isn't a race, and I'll easily put in more than the 'official' distance anyway!" So I hooked up with him, and we stayed together the rest of the day, sometimes briefly hooking up with others. As anticipated Lisa and Jim overtook us a few miles later anyway!
Like others, we had stashed water by one bridge (and really the only highway crossing) around mile 18, so that was our lone "aid stop." The rest of the course from there got pretty slow with all the scrambles mentioned above, and particularly with the long wait as people and especially kids got hoisted up the lemon squeezer (basically a hole in the rocks above you some 8 or 10 feet, with only minimal footholds between the opening and the bottom). I think we hit peak hour, on a peak fall day (it was sunny, breezy at times on the ridges, and probably hit mid 50s or so, but I kept on my long sleeve tee and vest and was fine).
Once we got through the lemon squeezer, got up to the top and the castle, and picked up our obligatory playing cards from the deck Felix had stashed there, we had to hightail it on the carriage trails (mostly downhill from there) over the last 5 miles or so. The day was getting late, we suspected we were the last ones out there (we had seen Lisa and Jim last going up to the castle), and there was the business of a beer and some German food to take care of at the "afterparty" at the Mountain Brauhaus (technically the finish, though we parked a 1/4 mile away at the Visitor's Center, and that was where the trail ended, and so did we).
I hit my watch at exactly 8 hours once we finally found the right lot among the many in a full late afternoon parking lot, which was just a bit more time on our feet than we had expected (especially given the good time we were making during the first half of the race, with its greater measure of carriageways). Somehow Glen had run the whole thing (and then some) in something like 5:30, and by the time we got to the restaurant was just leaving (beer in hand in the parking lot!) with his parents. One fast dude! And apparently two guys finished ahead of him (though rumor has it they may have been locals who took some judicious shortcuts?!).
Met some great folks from the New Paltz/Catskill area and CT during the outing. It was fun hanging out with them and enjoying a good Heffweizen and Schnitzel afterwards! The whole outing was really the epitome of the best of a fat ass event--great company, beautiful, challenging trails, an incredible setting, superb weather. Oh yeah, and no fees, no schwag, no official results or awards, no bitching--just good old-fashioned small-group trail fun! Thanks so much to Lisa for turning us on to this true gem of a event, and for organizing the whole outing for our NYC based contingent.
Can't wait for the next Wag!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Losing My Way (Iroquois Trails 100 Initial Report)
Here's a first stab at a a recap I posted on the Yahoo user group I moderate (more gory details to follow later!):
We had a beautiful weather weekend in the Finger Lakes region. Saturday was sunny with highs in low 60s. The course features a real nice blend of forestedand moderately technical single track, steep ski trails at the Greek Peak skiresort, dirt roads, and a tiny bit of pavement. 18K each of climbing anddescent, and folks who have done it by comparison rate the course harder thanstalwarts like Vermont 100 and even Western States. But it makes up for thatwith a generous 36 hour 100 cutoff and 13 hour 50 cutoff.
I only saw her before as we huddled in my car with training partner Garth to stay warm (it wasprobably upper 30s then!) and on the course. But local NYC friend Cherie seemed in good spiritswhen we passed on and out and back, and had a great result. They aren't postedfor the 50, but I believe her time was well under 12 hours, as she had hoped. Yeah Cherie! Look forward to hearing more!
Garth fought through ITB band problems to finish in 12:27, very close to (maybejust under?) last year's time. By the time I saw him on the out and back nearthe Daisy Hollow Rd. turnaround (his mile 38ish) he said he had taken threeAlleves with no relief. But his stomach and energy were ok and he seemed ingood spirits. So clearly he toughed it out from there to match last year's timeunder those conditions! Way to go, Garth! Hope you'll tell us more!
Local NYC standout runner Glenn Redpath, known to many of you out there, did anincredible encore from winning a 100 mile race in his native Canada the weekendbefore by coming in second in the IT 100! In an amazing time of 18:56! To topit off, he's registered to run the VT 50 next weekend. What a triple that wouldbe!
Well, saving the least result for last (or most running for least to show for it!), I missed the cutoff at mile 73, for mylongest DNF in a 100. In actuality, I probably ran maybe 78-79 miles or so, andtherein lies the rub. By my calculations, I lost (very conservatively) 2 hourstotal to "navigational errors," not usually a huge issue for me. A little 10minute normal-type "couldn't figure out where the trail continues" deal in thefirst half, and then a more costly 20-25 minute or so, mile and a half or sotype deal in the first night section in the Greek Peak ski area. In the latterI messed up on two intersections that weren't marked with glowsticks (and onewasn't even flagged), and another runner ahead of me who had done the same andgotten lost and I struggled back and forth to get back on trail finally. What'seasy to follow in the morning with other runners becomes trickier alone atnight.
But a certain amount of course-following errors are standard fare at 100s onsingle track, and those first two alone would have been quite manageabletime-wise. The kicker was the third nav error, which happened at night in(ironically) the first section with my pacer, a great guy named Jason who's fromIthaca who also paced me in that same section last year. Somehow we managed inthe twisty, turny forested trails under a moonless, starlit sky to double backon ourselves when were maybe 4.5 miles or so into the 6.3 mile section, andbasically run back in the opposite direction. Our bad as the Finger Lakestrail is pretty well blazed to start with, but nightime can be a whole differentdeal. True, though, the race's reflective tape was used more sparingly than itmight have been there (and no glowsticks I can recall there except at majorturns).
Really it was my bad for not following Jason's urgings for me to always take thelead, which is the usual pacing method on single track (we traded off informallyas I would slow down to get food out of pockets or adjust my three layers in thenear-freezing temps, and I kind of liked letting someone else navigate toconserve energy frankly). Anyway, as they say, two are more likely to get lostthan one if talking up a storm, as we caught up from last year! Jason thoughtfor some time we were possibly going in the wrong direction, but it was hard toget any bearings at night that would tell us, with no landmarks like a nearbypeak or moon or anything to orient us.So we pressed on at my urging!
We only realized for sure we were going in the opposite way when we came across a guy I knew was well behind me (based on earlyout and backs). Then the course sweeps with radioes sent out from the next aidstation came across us once we had righted outselves and asked if we were ok--wehad been out so long on that section they had sent out the cavalry!Bottom line: In a 6.3 mile section that should have taken us no more than 2:20or so based on last year's splits and how I felt our pace was this, we did 4:04!A good 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 hour of extra time! From there it became a racing the cutoffs story, and when those start that early in a 100, well...you know how they end,and it's never pretty!
All the huge cushion I had built up with my conservative pacing strategy the first half (I had 20 hours left to run what I had just run in 14 hours) just melted away on a late summer's night. The typical fading pace in the pre-dawn hours that occurred again this year (surprise, surprise!) was simply the coup de grace (down to 25 minute miles) rather than the main culprit. We had come in right at the cutoff at mile 67.5 . But slowing toa crawl at those lowest-energy moments of the race before sunrise wasanticipated, and shouldn't have been fatal. If I missed the 73.8 cutoff back at the start/finish by 50 minutes, well, you can do the math on how much time I hadthrown away on stupid nav problems! And the buck stops with yours truly on those!
This particular 100 DNF hurts REALLY bad--I didn't break down physically or mentally, which is more than often the case, but instead threw away the race with stupid rookie mistakes. Leave it me to find a new twist on a 100 DNF! I willbeat myself up for a long time about this one!
Thing is, I felt really good and confident and under control the first half, and was right where I wanted to be on my pace chart halfway in and up to mile 56. I still had a shot at last year's 32:45, and if not making that, a cushion of 3:15 in which to still post a finish in the generous 36 hours allocated (10 of the 29 starters would end up DNFing this year, none past mile 73).
But I want to keep it in perspective. However much DNFs can leave you sobbing in the portasan afterwards (don't ask, I was sleep-deprived!), trail 100s remain compelling challenges. I guess, since there's such a high risk/reward ratio in terms of satisfaction if you defy the odds--at least as a back of the packer-- and still make it there. Like the satisfaction of getting your first 50 finish, or that first marathon finish, but magnified. I'll lick my wounds for a while, and hope to summon the courage to get back out there for my (lucky?) seventh 100 start some time not too far down the pike! All wounds heal, right?! Even self-inflicted ones, I hope!
As for the race organization itself, Ian Golden and his great band of wonderful volunteers and the local fire department did a bang-up job with staging this event again. Even better stocked aid stations which remain well spaced, great pre-and post-racemeals, improved markings, a couple minor course changes that added a little single track, etc., etc. Crew, spectator, and pacer-friendly. This year they added a 100 mile relay event, which had three teams (of three up to a maximum offive). Can't say enough about what a great race it is! And it has that low-key, grassroots feel that Ian told me afterwards he wants to keep even as itcontinues to grow. Next year it will be called Virgil Crest (50/100/relay), and will be held againthe third weekend of September. Mark your calendar! Congrats again to Cherie, Garth, and Glenn!
[a more detailed section by section rundown to follow....]
We had a beautiful weather weekend in the Finger Lakes region. Saturday was sunny with highs in low 60s. The course features a real nice blend of forestedand moderately technical single track, steep ski trails at the Greek Peak skiresort, dirt roads, and a tiny bit of pavement. 18K each of climbing anddescent, and folks who have done it by comparison rate the course harder thanstalwarts like Vermont 100 and even Western States. But it makes up for thatwith a generous 36 hour 100 cutoff and 13 hour 50 cutoff.
I only saw her before as we huddled in my car with training partner Garth to stay warm (it wasprobably upper 30s then!) and on the course. But local NYC friend Cherie seemed in good spiritswhen we passed on and out and back, and had a great result. They aren't postedfor the 50, but I believe her time was well under 12 hours, as she had hoped. Yeah Cherie! Look forward to hearing more!
Garth fought through ITB band problems to finish in 12:27, very close to (maybejust under?) last year's time. By the time I saw him on the out and back nearthe Daisy Hollow Rd. turnaround (his mile 38ish) he said he had taken threeAlleves with no relief. But his stomach and energy were ok and he seemed ingood spirits. So clearly he toughed it out from there to match last year's timeunder those conditions! Way to go, Garth! Hope you'll tell us more!
Local NYC standout runner Glenn Redpath, known to many of you out there, did anincredible encore from winning a 100 mile race in his native Canada the weekendbefore by coming in second in the IT 100! In an amazing time of 18:56! To topit off, he's registered to run the VT 50 next weekend. What a triple that wouldbe!
Well, saving the least result for last (or most running for least to show for it!), I missed the cutoff at mile 73, for mylongest DNF in a 100. In actuality, I probably ran maybe 78-79 miles or so, andtherein lies the rub. By my calculations, I lost (very conservatively) 2 hourstotal to "navigational errors," not usually a huge issue for me. A little 10minute normal-type "couldn't figure out where the trail continues" deal in thefirst half, and then a more costly 20-25 minute or so, mile and a half or sotype deal in the first night section in the Greek Peak ski area. In the latterI messed up on two intersections that weren't marked with glowsticks (and onewasn't even flagged), and another runner ahead of me who had done the same andgotten lost and I struggled back and forth to get back on trail finally. What'seasy to follow in the morning with other runners becomes trickier alone atnight.
But a certain amount of course-following errors are standard fare at 100s onsingle track, and those first two alone would have been quite manageabletime-wise. The kicker was the third nav error, which happened at night in(ironically) the first section with my pacer, a great guy named Jason who's fromIthaca who also paced me in that same section last year. Somehow we managed inthe twisty, turny forested trails under a moonless, starlit sky to double backon ourselves when were maybe 4.5 miles or so into the 6.3 mile section, andbasically run back in the opposite direction. Our bad as the Finger Lakestrail is pretty well blazed to start with, but nightime can be a whole differentdeal. True, though, the race's reflective tape was used more sparingly than itmight have been there (and no glowsticks I can recall there except at majorturns).
Really it was my bad for not following Jason's urgings for me to always take thelead, which is the usual pacing method on single track (we traded off informallyas I would slow down to get food out of pockets or adjust my three layers in thenear-freezing temps, and I kind of liked letting someone else navigate toconserve energy frankly). Anyway, as they say, two are more likely to get lostthan one if talking up a storm, as we caught up from last year! Jason thoughtfor some time we were possibly going in the wrong direction, but it was hard toget any bearings at night that would tell us, with no landmarks like a nearbypeak or moon or anything to orient us.So we pressed on at my urging!
We only realized for sure we were going in the opposite way when we came across a guy I knew was well behind me (based on earlyout and backs). Then the course sweeps with radioes sent out from the next aidstation came across us once we had righted outselves and asked if we were ok--wehad been out so long on that section they had sent out the cavalry!Bottom line: In a 6.3 mile section that should have taken us no more than 2:20or so based on last year's splits and how I felt our pace was this, we did 4:04!A good 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 hour of extra time! From there it became a racing the cutoffs story, and when those start that early in a 100, well...you know how they end,and it's never pretty!
All the huge cushion I had built up with my conservative pacing strategy the first half (I had 20 hours left to run what I had just run in 14 hours) just melted away on a late summer's night. The typical fading pace in the pre-dawn hours that occurred again this year (surprise, surprise!) was simply the coup de grace (down to 25 minute miles) rather than the main culprit. We had come in right at the cutoff at mile 67.5 . But slowing toa crawl at those lowest-energy moments of the race before sunrise wasanticipated, and shouldn't have been fatal. If I missed the 73.8 cutoff back at the start/finish by 50 minutes, well, you can do the math on how much time I hadthrown away on stupid nav problems! And the buck stops with yours truly on those!
This particular 100 DNF hurts REALLY bad--I didn't break down physically or mentally, which is more than often the case, but instead threw away the race with stupid rookie mistakes. Leave it me to find a new twist on a 100 DNF! I willbeat myself up for a long time about this one!
Thing is, I felt really good and confident and under control the first half, and was right where I wanted to be on my pace chart halfway in and up to mile 56. I still had a shot at last year's 32:45, and if not making that, a cushion of 3:15 in which to still post a finish in the generous 36 hours allocated (10 of the 29 starters would end up DNFing this year, none past mile 73).
But I want to keep it in perspective. However much DNFs can leave you sobbing in the portasan afterwards (don't ask, I was sleep-deprived!), trail 100s remain compelling challenges. I guess, since there's such a high risk/reward ratio in terms of satisfaction if you defy the odds--at least as a back of the packer-- and still make it there. Like the satisfaction of getting your first 50 finish, or that first marathon finish, but magnified. I'll lick my wounds for a while, and hope to summon the courage to get back out there for my (lucky?) seventh 100 start some time not too far down the pike! All wounds heal, right?! Even self-inflicted ones, I hope!
As for the race organization itself, Ian Golden and his great band of wonderful volunteers and the local fire department did a bang-up job with staging this event again. Even better stocked aid stations which remain well spaced, great pre-and post-racemeals, improved markings, a couple minor course changes that added a little single track, etc., etc. Crew, spectator, and pacer-friendly. This year they added a 100 mile relay event, which had three teams (of three up to a maximum offive). Can't say enough about what a great race it is! And it has that low-key, grassroots feel that Ian told me afterwards he wants to keep even as itcontinues to grow. Next year it will be called Virgil Crest (50/100/relay), and will be held againthe third weekend of September. Mark your calendar! Congrats again to Cherie, Garth, and Glenn!
[a more detailed section by section rundown to follow....]
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Back to Iroquois Seeking Some Redemption
After a good last week and half of training, and some reflection, I decided the 100 mile fire is still burning...so I pulled the trigger and signed up for the Iroquois Trails 100 on 9/19-20 upstate, near Cortland and Ithaca. I really want to get that second 100 under my belt, and this seems like the opportunity. Familiar course and faces, prospect of cool temps this last weekend of summer/first of fall, a generous 36 hour cutoff, a chance to measure myself against last year's 32:45....everything seems to point to seizing this chance!
Motivated by the Cascade disappointment, I decided I should try to squeeze in some quality training before committing to IT, given how much I'd cut back before the race. So I put in a solid 60+ last week, including a good 10 mile tempo run, 1 1/2 hr trail run just before I left Washington State, and a 20 miler on the Palisades trails with Garth last Friday, followed by a reasonably hard 1 1/2 hours in Central park on Sat. Those runs, plus a nice faster and shorter tempo run yesterday (6 miles), have me feeling better about my fitness and motivation (not to mention my weight!). So now it's taper time (again!). But first a few hills reps in the Palisades with Garth tomorrow. But not too many!
I need to formulate a good gameplan, but I can use last year's splits and experience at IT for that. The basic idea: to even out the superfast/superslow 50 mile splits into some kind of more manageable and sustainable pace I won't fall off so much on the (identical) second half. If I did the first half in like 13:15 last year, then maybe try to do it in 14 or 14:30. It's tricky, since we run with the 50 milers the first half. Easy to get sucked up into their pace.
I'll try to make a couple other changes in nutrition and in gear. On nutrition: Much more careful with what I eat the morning of and days preceding. During the race, I'm going to make sure I have bland salty stuff like pretzels and saltines in my drop bags, especially for the nighttime. And will look into a thermos of chicken soup at the start/finish AS we go through 5 times. And maybe even cans of it I can pop open in the nighttime drop bags, as last year there wasn't any beyond mile 55 and through most of the night. Even if cold, it might be one of the blandest, most nutritious things I can get down in the witching hours, where the stomach got weak last year.
On gear, I just got the Nathan running vest I ordered on-line today. Will test out tomorrow. If I can slip an extra layer, gels, lights, whatever in the handy front and rear pockets, I can keep the Fuelbelt lighter. And hopefully I can forego having to carry the heavy maps and case I did for CCC!
I'm very psyched that Jayson, my nighttime pacer from last year who lives in Ithaca, is willing to come out and show me some more of his owl calls this year. That will be a big help! And happy that the RD Ian allowed me to take my time in deciding whether to sign up....I'm in now! Here goes another adventure!
Motivated by the Cascade disappointment, I decided I should try to squeeze in some quality training before committing to IT, given how much I'd cut back before the race. So I put in a solid 60+ last week, including a good 10 mile tempo run, 1 1/2 hr trail run just before I left Washington State, and a 20 miler on the Palisades trails with Garth last Friday, followed by a reasonably hard 1 1/2 hours in Central park on Sat. Those runs, plus a nice faster and shorter tempo run yesterday (6 miles), have me feeling better about my fitness and motivation (not to mention my weight!). So now it's taper time (again!). But first a few hills reps in the Palisades with Garth tomorrow. But not too many!
I need to formulate a good gameplan, but I can use last year's splits and experience at IT for that. The basic idea: to even out the superfast/superslow 50 mile splits into some kind of more manageable and sustainable pace I won't fall off so much on the (identical) second half. If I did the first half in like 13:15 last year, then maybe try to do it in 14 or 14:30. It's tricky, since we run with the 50 milers the first half. Easy to get sucked up into their pace.
I'll try to make a couple other changes in nutrition and in gear. On nutrition: Much more careful with what I eat the morning of and days preceding. During the race, I'm going to make sure I have bland salty stuff like pretzels and saltines in my drop bags, especially for the nighttime. And will look into a thermos of chicken soup at the start/finish AS we go through 5 times. And maybe even cans of it I can pop open in the nighttime drop bags, as last year there wasn't any beyond mile 55 and through most of the night. Even if cold, it might be one of the blandest, most nutritious things I can get down in the witching hours, where the stomach got weak last year.
On gear, I just got the Nathan running vest I ordered on-line today. Will test out tomorrow. If I can slip an extra layer, gels, lights, whatever in the handy front and rear pockets, I can keep the Fuelbelt lighter. And hopefully I can forego having to carry the heavy maps and case I did for CCC!
I'm very psyched that Jayson, my nighttime pacer from last year who lives in Ithaca, is willing to come out and show me some more of his owl calls this year. That will be a big help! And happy that the RD Ian allowed me to take my time in deciding whether to sign up....I'm in now! Here goes another adventure!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Stomach Does Me in at Cascade Crest
Well, now I can add stomach troubles to the list of things that have done me in (I've allowed to do me in) at 100s! Not entirely sure why (thought that pulled pork sandwich that tasted so good on Friday lunch in Roslyn, the mining town where they filmed Northern Exposure exterior, may have had something to do with it!). But even the first hour it felt upset, and I waited to taste my first calories till an hour in, longer than usual. Then not longer after the second gel an hour and half in, it was my first trip to the woods with the Big D. Shortly after mile 15, there was another. And all along there a lot of stomach cramps, and a sort of heaviness and queasiness that got sharper on downhills. Tried some ginger cubes, had an Immodium, and then a Pepcid AC.
By around 20 or so as I we got on the Pacific Crest Trail, it was better, and I was feeling pretty good about my pace. It felt steady, and I was happy to be under a 17 minute pace when I got to mile 23, where my pacers David and Darren were there to greet me as it was a crew location. I felt strong at that point. Miles 23 to 30 were probably among my strongest, as we had the gentle rolls and nice footing and forest cover of the PCT. I passed back a few people who had passed me earlier. 30 to 33 I slowed somewhat, had to work a little harder on the climbs, and got passed back by some folks.
Mile 33 at Stampede Pass was an aid station location. I changed my shirt, put on my headlamp, swapped and filled bottles, etc. My stomach was starting to feel quesy again, and I got excited when they offered soup but wavered when they said they only had beef broth with noodles, but accepted it. By the time I left after maybe 10-15 minutes, I was pretty discouraged to see that I was only 9 minutes under an 18 minute pace, meaning I had slowed considerably the previous 10 miles. And to see that I was only 45 minutes up on the cutoff there, and to hear the volunteers talk of when they would shut down, and how many runners were still on the course behind me (not many!). Plus it was quickly getting dark in the deep forest, and I saw not a soul in those long 8 miles to mile 41 at Meadow Mountain.
It seemed to coincide with that period of darkness and verifying how far behind schedule I had fallen (I really wanted to make it to mile 53 with closer to a 17 minute pace as the second half of the course is tougher and slower) that my stomach really went south again. Heaviness, queasiness, cramps. I stopped at one point thinking I might throw up. I started to fall behind my eating and drinking schedule. Partly distracted by my growing concern and sense I needed to pick it up, and partly by the greater effort it took to check the watch. Since nothing was appetizing (gels, energy chews, Heed, the small doses of Perpeteum that I forced myself to stomach a few times), I was probably eating every 45 minutes instead of my usual 30. So that fed into my falling pace. One gel particularly went over lousy. I could sense that my pace was really slowing to a shuffle even thought it was pretty runnable and rolling. I was also realizing how many hours of darkness running alone awaited me till I picked up Darren at Hyak at mile 53 (the downside of that 10AM start!).
I kept thinking when am I going to get to this aid station, and wondering about my prospects for continuing. Could I drop there? Should I? As I looked at my split and did the math in my head, coming into Meadown Mountain, I could see that my pace had fallen to roughly 20 minutes in the previous section, meaning I was getting close to a 19 minute cumulative pace. I knew that no one who finished last year had gotten to Hyak at 53 with much slower than a 17 minute pace, and about all had had a good two hours on the cutoffs by 53, and I was looking at maybe barely getting there under it if maybe I was fortune enough to rally and the stomach get better and I could resume running.
I asked the volunteers if they had soup, and they gave me 1/3 of a cup of some kind of tasteless non-descriptive vegeterian noodles that didn't taste good or go down well. I dipped a couple potatoes in salt, but my stomach felt so bloated I couldn't finish them, so I didn't even finish it and threw it in the trash. I knew I needed to eat, but nothing looked appetizing. The grilled cheese they offered looked frankly disgesting, as had the PBJ there and elsewhere which is normally something I jump at. That was when I asked who the aid station captain was, and asked her what would happen if I dropped there (was there road access? and could they get us back to the start or to Hyak?). There was another runner sitting there who was in the same boat. Guy from Colorado. Turns out they would be closing up fairly shortly, and that once the four outstanding runners and the sweeps had come in, they could give me and him a ride to the start/finish in Easton. So that was what I ended up doing.
Will I replay that decision in my mind? Maybe some, but probably less than not going on at Bighorn at mile 64 in '08. Then there was nothing that tangible beyond general fatigue and I had reached basically the 2/3 mark and had 10 minutes to get through and out of the aid station. Here my stomach discomfort was great and had been ongoing for most of the race, and it was affecting my fueling and really causing me to slow down a lot at a dangerously early point in the race. Fighting what was looking like a futile battle with upcoming cutoffs with a stomach that was sapping all my energy and confidence just wasn't appealing. And I feared that if I did get into Hyak just before the 3AM cutoff it would have been too hard to say to Darren and David that I wasn't going to soldier on---even though objectively I would have no hope of finishing without getting in there more like 1:00 or 1:15 at latest.
Why the stomach troubles? I had some bouts of the big D the previous couple days, and some sour stomach Friday afternoon. But nothing too alarming. I was eating the usual mixture of gels, energy chews, and bland AS fare (mostly melon slices and boiled potatoes and a few chips). I didn't drink as much Perpeteum as usual (finished only one 8 oz. bottle over three occasions) since I feared it would worsen things. Only once did I dare take in a PBJ square. Don't recall seeing any sandwiches. Definitely wasn't getting enough protein, but also was avoiding stuff that seemed like to further upset . But what would cause all the stomach distress? And why didn't the two rounds of Pepcid AC and the ginger squares help? Maybe I should have avoided the second Immodium I took as the rumbles returned and I feared more trips to the forest?
Anyway, I'm left with more questions than answers! Including whether I should get back on the 100 horse quickly, or take a break for a while and focus on 50s and maybe some 100ks. One for five is definitely a batting average that will get you demoted to the minor leagues! Also, I guess I have to wonder about the less than ideal preparation coming from my injury and the forced march back to something resembling fitness. I was five pounds or so heavier, and definitely not as fit, as last Sept. at Iroquios.
Live and learn! Hope to fight another day! This race is definitely beautiful, well organized, with a great low-key feel--everything you'd want! And despite tough, long climbs and descents the footing on the sections I was was quite good, so it's quite runable. Least technical of any 100 course I've been on (at least the first 40 miles). Lots of things to recommend it if I could come back some year with better fitness and a stronger stomach!
By around 20 or so as I we got on the Pacific Crest Trail, it was better, and I was feeling pretty good about my pace. It felt steady, and I was happy to be under a 17 minute pace when I got to mile 23, where my pacers David and Darren were there to greet me as it was a crew location. I felt strong at that point. Miles 23 to 30 were probably among my strongest, as we had the gentle rolls and nice footing and forest cover of the PCT. I passed back a few people who had passed me earlier. 30 to 33 I slowed somewhat, had to work a little harder on the climbs, and got passed back by some folks.
Mile 33 at Stampede Pass was an aid station location. I changed my shirt, put on my headlamp, swapped and filled bottles, etc. My stomach was starting to feel quesy again, and I got excited when they offered soup but wavered when they said they only had beef broth with noodles, but accepted it. By the time I left after maybe 10-15 minutes, I was pretty discouraged to see that I was only 9 minutes under an 18 minute pace, meaning I had slowed considerably the previous 10 miles. And to see that I was only 45 minutes up on the cutoff there, and to hear the volunteers talk of when they would shut down, and how many runners were still on the course behind me (not many!). Plus it was quickly getting dark in the deep forest, and I saw not a soul in those long 8 miles to mile 41 at Meadow Mountain.
It seemed to coincide with that period of darkness and verifying how far behind schedule I had fallen (I really wanted to make it to mile 53 with closer to a 17 minute pace as the second half of the course is tougher and slower) that my stomach really went south again. Heaviness, queasiness, cramps. I stopped at one point thinking I might throw up. I started to fall behind my eating and drinking schedule. Partly distracted by my growing concern and sense I needed to pick it up, and partly by the greater effort it took to check the watch. Since nothing was appetizing (gels, energy chews, Heed, the small doses of Perpeteum that I forced myself to stomach a few times), I was probably eating every 45 minutes instead of my usual 30. So that fed into my falling pace. One gel particularly went over lousy. I could sense that my pace was really slowing to a shuffle even thought it was pretty runnable and rolling. I was also realizing how many hours of darkness running alone awaited me till I picked up Darren at Hyak at mile 53 (the downside of that 10AM start!).
I kept thinking when am I going to get to this aid station, and wondering about my prospects for continuing. Could I drop there? Should I? As I looked at my split and did the math in my head, coming into Meadown Mountain, I could see that my pace had fallen to roughly 20 minutes in the previous section, meaning I was getting close to a 19 minute cumulative pace. I knew that no one who finished last year had gotten to Hyak at 53 with much slower than a 17 minute pace, and about all had had a good two hours on the cutoffs by 53, and I was looking at maybe barely getting there under it if maybe I was fortune enough to rally and the stomach get better and I could resume running.
I asked the volunteers if they had soup, and they gave me 1/3 of a cup of some kind of tasteless non-descriptive vegeterian noodles that didn't taste good or go down well. I dipped a couple potatoes in salt, but my stomach felt so bloated I couldn't finish them, so I didn't even finish it and threw it in the trash. I knew I needed to eat, but nothing looked appetizing. The grilled cheese they offered looked frankly disgesting, as had the PBJ there and elsewhere which is normally something I jump at. That was when I asked who the aid station captain was, and asked her what would happen if I dropped there (was there road access? and could they get us back to the start or to Hyak?). There was another runner sitting there who was in the same boat. Guy from Colorado. Turns out they would be closing up fairly shortly, and that once the four outstanding runners and the sweeps had come in, they could give me and him a ride to the start/finish in Easton. So that was what I ended up doing.
Will I replay that decision in my mind? Maybe some, but probably less than not going on at Bighorn at mile 64 in '08. Then there was nothing that tangible beyond general fatigue and I had reached basically the 2/3 mark and had 10 minutes to get through and out of the aid station. Here my stomach discomfort was great and had been ongoing for most of the race, and it was affecting my fueling and really causing me to slow down a lot at a dangerously early point in the race. Fighting what was looking like a futile battle with upcoming cutoffs with a stomach that was sapping all my energy and confidence just wasn't appealing. And I feared that if I did get into Hyak just before the 3AM cutoff it would have been too hard to say to Darren and David that I wasn't going to soldier on---even though objectively I would have no hope of finishing without getting in there more like 1:00 or 1:15 at latest.
Why the stomach troubles? I had some bouts of the big D the previous couple days, and some sour stomach Friday afternoon. But nothing too alarming. I was eating the usual mixture of gels, energy chews, and bland AS fare (mostly melon slices and boiled potatoes and a few chips). I didn't drink as much Perpeteum as usual (finished only one 8 oz. bottle over three occasions) since I feared it would worsen things. Only once did I dare take in a PBJ square. Don't recall seeing any sandwiches. Definitely wasn't getting enough protein, but also was avoiding stuff that seemed like to further upset . But what would cause all the stomach distress? And why didn't the two rounds of Pepcid AC and the ginger squares help? Maybe I should have avoided the second Immodium I took as the rumbles returned and I feared more trips to the forest?
Anyway, I'm left with more questions than answers! Including whether I should get back on the 100 horse quickly, or take a break for a while and focus on 50s and maybe some 100ks. One for five is definitely a batting average that will get you demoted to the minor leagues! Also, I guess I have to wonder about the less than ideal preparation coming from my injury and the forced march back to something resembling fitness. I was five pounds or so heavier, and definitely not as fit, as last Sept. at Iroquios.
Live and learn! Hope to fight another day! This race is definitely beautiful, well organized, with a great low-key feel--everything you'd want! And despite tough, long climbs and descents the footing on the sections I was was quite good, so it's quite runable. Least technical of any 100 course I've been on (at least the first 40 miles). Lots of things to recommend it if I could come back some year with better fitness and a stronger stomach!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Getting Back on the Horse: HURL Elkhorn 50 Miles & Escarpment 30K Race Reports
Well, when you're out with an injury, missing valuable training time and cancelling race trips (Bighorn and Tahoe Rim) and generally just missing the trails big time, it's kinda important to....GET BACK ON THAT HORSE! That would be the "horse" of logging serious trail miles and doing those nice organized training runs they call trail and ultra races!
The short of it is that a month back into training I tackled the ever-tough Escarpment 30K (for the fourth time) in the Catskills and HURL Eklhorn 50 Miles near Helena, MT.... within six days...and came out of both in one piece! I can't say I posted stellar times or had super races, but that wasn't really the point. The point was to get in my first runs over 15 miles or 5.5 hours since MMT back in May, after all that forced time off in late May and June with the mysterious knee thing. And to build back that endurance and get back into that race mode and see if Cascade Crest 100 on 8/29-30 is a pipe dream and where I stand for it, just a month out. On that front, I think I boosted my fitness, confidence, and....well, maybe, just MAYBE, I stand a chance of making that 32 hour cutoff at CCC (or at least to put up a decent fight!). If I do make it, I'll look back on these two runs as crucial steps toward that goal!
Synposis of Escarpment: This is still the gnarliest, twistiest, rockiest, eat-you-alive 30K you'll ever find (the 30K that wants to be a 50K and that requires a marathon qualifying time or previous trail run of 30K or longer and where you spend as much time scrambling as truly running). I ran a pedestrain, above-the-official cutoff 6:19:45. Had a decent race as I slogged through the mud (from the previous week's rains), pretty high humidity, and made it up those 5,000+ feet of climbing and equal amount of descent without any major damage (unlike last year, with the scary lightning storm and torrential downpour and flooding on the ridge mid-way, which blew what was shaping up to be one of my better performances there).
Little faster than last year, a few minutes slower than my first time there in '05 (where I first really realized how different and wonderful trail running was and that I needed to COMMIT and FOCUS on it to really enjoy it). And considerably slower than in '07, when I ran like a 5:42. But most years it comes at a point on the race calendar where I'm in recovery mode or otherwise not in peak shape or worried about not expending too much energy due to a race the following weekend (like this year, or last with Catoctin), so I can't say I've ever been able to just sort of go all out. It's really an organized fat-ass (no winners, no prizes), so I like to treat it that way. But a 30K of this difficulty and caliber mid-summer really is something nice to break up the year and "bridge" my running from one phase into the next, I'm finding. After you tackle it, you feel like any tough stuff you encounter in other races you've already been through (and then some) before! A sort of trail running crucible!
This year it was sloppy and wet enough (some light rain in second half) that I just didn't want to plow through those hypertechnical downhills, including those ledges you have to lower yourself down on all fours. Plus I still didn't feel like I had good confidence or leg strength to take the downs fast, so I was conservative, letting several folks pass me in the last few steeply downhill miles (one of whom took a bad fall shortly thereafter, a fate which I know would have befallen me if I had pushed it in that section!). But I did feel pretty good on the climbs, including the ones up to Blackhead Mtn. at 10.2 (3,940') and Stoppel Point at 14.4 (3,430'). Felt like mid-week hill workouts at the Palisades and on the treadmill the previous three weeks had really paid off in terms of getting my climbing form and condition into some semblance of where it stood before the injury, when I was in good shape (for me at least!).
This race is a really important annual ritual for me that I'd hate to ever miss. Love the grassroots feel, the people who come back year after year and get honored with t-shirts marking how many Escarpment miles they've logged, the bus to the start, the in-your-face quality of the trail, the great volunteers who hike all the aid in along this remote point to point trail, the fact that they don't do awards or get carried away with bells and whistles...and this year the nice cool refreshing dip in North Lake right after the finish! Nice way to cool off and wash off all that MAJOR MUD from foot to waist (yes, one not to bad fall about midway!). Oh yes, and they sold an inexpensive, nicely designed technical T at the finish too (the race fee is rock-bottom so no automatic shirt)!
I will also confess to be utterly, completely perplexed at why my local trail friends seem to shun this race, or maybe choose not to go back having done it before (I know Garth didn't know I might be doing it, otherwise I'm sure he would have gone back.) We have a real mecca in our backyard!!! Maybe it's the cumbersome entry procedure, or the fact that it's "only a 30K" and "not an ultra." But I really think that you won't find a better test of your mountain trail running fitness and skills than this one...or a more challenging and rewarding local/regional Northeast running experience. And c'mon, you can be there from the city in like 2 hours and a quarter, 2 and a half tops! But at the same time, I kind of like that this is sort of my "own" little race that holds special meaning and others seem to not "get it" or to go to the trouble of sending in that SASE to get an application. Trail and especially ultra types are rugged individualists and iconoclasts, and decidedly don't "run in packs," so here's to those wonderful traits that make our sport so exciting!
HURL Elkhorn synthesis: It was a great experience to run 50 miles through scenic Montana high country. I loved the mountain meadows, wildflowers, and especially the pine-forested sections, running over soft pine needles. Some awesome vistas of lakes, mountainsides, and vast valleys. I held up pretty well, despite a middle section before and after the long 2,000' climb up to the highest point in the course, where I flirted a little closely with the cutoffs. But got a good burst of energy and picked up the pace from around mile 30, and held it together fairly steadily effort-wise the rest of the way.
Race director Steve Engenbrecht (sp?) and "RD for a day" Martin (as Steve ran the race) put on a well-organized event in Helena National Forest, with 10 aid station, helpful volunteers, and nice camaraderie. The course has a lot of twists and turns as it goes from trail to trail, and sometimes through meadows, with often faint signs of a trail and nothing like the blazes we grow accustomed to in the East. So navigation is tricky, and once I had to backtrack and wait for another runner and pull out my map and instructions. Maybe ran an extra 1/3 to 1/2 a mile. Two other times I either stopped and waited for other runners or encountered another runner doing the same for me, as I checked the map and directions and we made sure we did the right turns. There were several nervous moments, since I ran all alone probably 2/3 of the time, when I kept wondering if I would see the next marking, or had missed a turn. Elk didn't eat their markings this year (they used orange duct tape instead of flagging tape), but still they were spaced wide enough and the trails used don't have their own permanent markings to help, so that you had to use extra caution. A woman who passed me at the next to last aid station and waited for me at one point to make sure we were on course apparently missed a turn and ran four extra miles in the early section of the course!
The longer story: "What, a New Yorker? What brings you out to Montana?" I wish I had a dollar for every time I get that good-natured reaction when I go to a Western ultra! The usual reply, "Why this race, of course! And plus a nice excuse to check out a beautiful part of the country, get in some hiking, etc.!" But mostly at the nice pre-race dinner/orientation at the Elkhorn Fitness Retreat the talk with the nice folks I met was about the course, other races in the area like Devil's Backbone, various 100s people had done or were doing, and the usual ultra stuff. After a long raffle in which I think almost everyone of the 75 or so (out of 100 or more) 50K'ers and 50 milers won something (I got a nice Adidas bag), we got a thorough course briefing from R.D. Steve and were sent on our way. Had there been an award for who came from the farthest distance, I think I would have won it!
Driving out the road that leads into the National Forest and quickly turns to dirt, I was glad I had chosen to rent a 4WD! And really got the sense I was "out there," despite being maybe 8 miles from the Interstate, and maybe 20 minutes from the hotel in Helena where I stayed.
The short of it is that a month back into training I tackled the ever-tough Escarpment 30K (for the fourth time) in the Catskills and HURL Eklhorn 50 Miles near Helena, MT.... within six days...and came out of both in one piece! I can't say I posted stellar times or had super races, but that wasn't really the point. The point was to get in my first runs over 15 miles or 5.5 hours since MMT back in May, after all that forced time off in late May and June with the mysterious knee thing. And to build back that endurance and get back into that race mode and see if Cascade Crest 100 on 8/29-30 is a pipe dream and where I stand for it, just a month out. On that front, I think I boosted my fitness, confidence, and....well, maybe, just MAYBE, I stand a chance of making that 32 hour cutoff at CCC (or at least to put up a decent fight!). If I do make it, I'll look back on these two runs as crucial steps toward that goal!
Synposis of Escarpment: This is still the gnarliest, twistiest, rockiest, eat-you-alive 30K you'll ever find (the 30K that wants to be a 50K and that requires a marathon qualifying time or previous trail run of 30K or longer and where you spend as much time scrambling as truly running). I ran a pedestrain, above-the-official cutoff 6:19:45. Had a decent race as I slogged through the mud (from the previous week's rains), pretty high humidity, and made it up those 5,000+ feet of climbing and equal amount of descent without any major damage (unlike last year, with the scary lightning storm and torrential downpour and flooding on the ridge mid-way, which blew what was shaping up to be one of my better performances there).
Little faster than last year, a few minutes slower than my first time there in '05 (where I first really realized how different and wonderful trail running was and that I needed to COMMIT and FOCUS on it to really enjoy it). And considerably slower than in '07, when I ran like a 5:42. But most years it comes at a point on the race calendar where I'm in recovery mode or otherwise not in peak shape or worried about not expending too much energy due to a race the following weekend (like this year, or last with Catoctin), so I can't say I've ever been able to just sort of go all out. It's really an organized fat-ass (no winners, no prizes), so I like to treat it that way. But a 30K of this difficulty and caliber mid-summer really is something nice to break up the year and "bridge" my running from one phase into the next, I'm finding. After you tackle it, you feel like any tough stuff you encounter in other races you've already been through (and then some) before! A sort of trail running crucible!
This year it was sloppy and wet enough (some light rain in second half) that I just didn't want to plow through those hypertechnical downhills, including those ledges you have to lower yourself down on all fours. Plus I still didn't feel like I had good confidence or leg strength to take the downs fast, so I was conservative, letting several folks pass me in the last few steeply downhill miles (one of whom took a bad fall shortly thereafter, a fate which I know would have befallen me if I had pushed it in that section!). But I did feel pretty good on the climbs, including the ones up to Blackhead Mtn. at 10.2 (3,940') and Stoppel Point at 14.4 (3,430'). Felt like mid-week hill workouts at the Palisades and on the treadmill the previous three weeks had really paid off in terms of getting my climbing form and condition into some semblance of where it stood before the injury, when I was in good shape (for me at least!).
This race is a really important annual ritual for me that I'd hate to ever miss. Love the grassroots feel, the people who come back year after year and get honored with t-shirts marking how many Escarpment miles they've logged, the bus to the start, the in-your-face quality of the trail, the great volunteers who hike all the aid in along this remote point to point trail, the fact that they don't do awards or get carried away with bells and whistles...and this year the nice cool refreshing dip in North Lake right after the finish! Nice way to cool off and wash off all that MAJOR MUD from foot to waist (yes, one not to bad fall about midway!). Oh yes, and they sold an inexpensive, nicely designed technical T at the finish too (the race fee is rock-bottom so no automatic shirt)!
I will also confess to be utterly, completely perplexed at why my local trail friends seem to shun this race, or maybe choose not to go back having done it before (I know Garth didn't know I might be doing it, otherwise I'm sure he would have gone back.) We have a real mecca in our backyard!!! Maybe it's the cumbersome entry procedure, or the fact that it's "only a 30K" and "not an ultra." But I really think that you won't find a better test of your mountain trail running fitness and skills than this one...or a more challenging and rewarding local/regional Northeast running experience. And c'mon, you can be there from the city in like 2 hours and a quarter, 2 and a half tops! But at the same time, I kind of like that this is sort of my "own" little race that holds special meaning and others seem to not "get it" or to go to the trouble of sending in that SASE to get an application. Trail and especially ultra types are rugged individualists and iconoclasts, and decidedly don't "run in packs," so here's to those wonderful traits that make our sport so exciting!
HURL Elkhorn synthesis: It was a great experience to run 50 miles through scenic Montana high country. I loved the mountain meadows, wildflowers, and especially the pine-forested sections, running over soft pine needles. Some awesome vistas of lakes, mountainsides, and vast valleys. I held up pretty well, despite a middle section before and after the long 2,000' climb up to the highest point in the course, where I flirted a little closely with the cutoffs. But got a good burst of energy and picked up the pace from around mile 30, and held it together fairly steadily effort-wise the rest of the way.
Race director Steve Engenbrecht (sp?) and "RD for a day" Martin (as Steve ran the race) put on a well-organized event in Helena National Forest, with 10 aid station, helpful volunteers, and nice camaraderie. The course has a lot of twists and turns as it goes from trail to trail, and sometimes through meadows, with often faint signs of a trail and nothing like the blazes we grow accustomed to in the East. So navigation is tricky, and once I had to backtrack and wait for another runner and pull out my map and instructions. Maybe ran an extra 1/3 to 1/2 a mile. Two other times I either stopped and waited for other runners or encountered another runner doing the same for me, as I checked the map and directions and we made sure we did the right turns. There were several nervous moments, since I ran all alone probably 2/3 of the time, when I kept wondering if I would see the next marking, or had missed a turn. Elk didn't eat their markings this year (they used orange duct tape instead of flagging tape), but still they were spaced wide enough and the trails used don't have their own permanent markings to help, so that you had to use extra caution. A woman who passed me at the next to last aid station and waited for me at one point to make sure we were on course apparently missed a turn and ran four extra miles in the early section of the course!
The longer story: "What, a New Yorker? What brings you out to Montana?" I wish I had a dollar for every time I get that good-natured reaction when I go to a Western ultra! The usual reply, "Why this race, of course! And plus a nice excuse to check out a beautiful part of the country, get in some hiking, etc.!" But mostly at the nice pre-race dinner/orientation at the Elkhorn Fitness Retreat the talk with the nice folks I met was about the course, other races in the area like Devil's Backbone, various 100s people had done or were doing, and the usual ultra stuff. After a long raffle in which I think almost everyone of the 75 or so (out of 100 or more) 50K'ers and 50 milers won something (I got a nice Adidas bag), we got a thorough course briefing from R.D. Steve and were sent on our way. Had there been an award for who came from the farthest distance, I think I would have won it!
Driving out the road that leads into the National Forest and quickly turns to dirt, I was glad I had chosen to rent a 4WD! And really got the sense I was "out there," despite being maybe 8 miles from the Interstate, and maybe 20 minutes from the hotel in Helena where I stayed.
Start to Jackson Creek 1 (mile 10)
Then it was, as I recall, a few miles of rolling but mostly downhill double track surrounded by low new-growth forest till the Jackson Creek AS, staffed by a lone woman. She looked like she had quite a hike to get there! Overall, I averaged about 15:42 for the first 10 miles.
Jackson Creek back to Start/Finish (10-20)
Here we followed the creek up, up, up, before turning up to meet the trail we had come out, and facing a nice switchbacked descent off the mountain, and back onto the direct road headed back to the start/finish at the campground. Things slowed down a lot with the initial climb. It was quite pretty, and the sun was starting to burn hotter. It felt nice to be on the single-track descent, and then on the steady descent on the dirt road you could really pick up a nice head of steam.
I was a little confused at the trail intersection, not recognizing we had been there before and that we were headed back. I pulled out the instructions and maps, and looked at the signs with arrows (one seeming to direct us left, another that seemed to be for those coming another direction directing us right). I didn't recall the signs from before. Anyway, just then Liz and an older man came up, and assured me it was a left, confirming my general sense. She said "do you know this gentleman is 80 years old?" Turns out he was someone that had been paying a lot of attention to at the pre-race dinner. He asked "where you from?," and when I replied NYC he said something like "New York, why did you come all this way?" When I asked where he was from he said "Vermont, but I live around here." "When did you come out?" His mater-of-fact reply: "In the 1950s." Had to laugh at that one! You can take the New Englander out of New England.....! (Though he had finished a number of times and owns the over-60 course record, he ended up not finishing.)
Anyway, I got some distance on Liz and this gentleman on the downhill section, and didn't see anyone those last 5 miles or so. At the start/finish was my dropbag, and I took the chance to change my shirt, re-apply sunscreen and repellent (there were some bugs out there, especially in the low-lying areas), re-load Heed and load and drink some Ensure, re-lube, etc. I was probably there about 15 minutes. Just as I was leaving, Liz came in, and when I looked back after I re-traced my steps a few yards (forgot the damn bottles on the AS table!), she had made a quick visit to the portasan and was close behind me
My average pace per mile in this second section slowed to a more sustainable 17:18 I was happy to leave the 20 mile station with an average pace per mile of 16 minutes so far. I had done my pacechart with 16 and 19 minute paces, and knew the overall cutoff pace was about a 19:20.
Start/Finish Area to Elk Park 1 (20 to 27)
This section had maybe a mile and a half of dirt road, then a nice trail through new growth pines going steadily up to an AS at Teepee Creek at around 23, and then four of the steepest, toughest miles you'll encounter anywhere as you switchback your way up to Elk Park at 27. I was doing pretty well in the shaded trail section up to Tepee Creek, happy to be off the direct mid-day sunlight. The footing was a nice bed of pine needles and it was pretty smooth. There was a large crew of friendly volunteers there, and just beyond you could hear a bunch of kids playing in the stream.
Teepee Creek is at about 5,800', and Elk Park is just beyond the highest point on the course at a lung-busting 7,880. The first part of the climb is a series of switchbacks through broad grassy meadows with awesome views of peaks, including one mountainside off to the left denuded by the '88 fires, with only burnt out stumps of old grwoth. Eventually you get into a really nice pine forest, as it continues to climb upward. The length and steepness of this climb, a lot of it at what would prove the warmest part of the day (direct sunlight, as more clouds would thankfully roll in later!), reminded me of races like Jemez and Bighorn, though it didn't get up to 10 or 9K like them. It was a draining climb, and made a bit demoralizing by the fact that there was a fairly steady stream of 50Kers (whose course started where we hit mile 20 back at the start/finish) as well as, presumably, a few of the 50 mile leaders...all already on their way back home. They were moving wiftly downhill, and it didn't seem to be fair they would be doing that AND be miles and miles ahead of me all while I was straining my way upward!
At one point the climb seemed to reach its high point (we never really summited on any mountain on this course), only to dip and then proceed back upward. I had to ask runners coming towards me a couple times how far Elk Park was. I kept eating and drinking, and had by then upped my total hourly Endurolytes from the usual 2 to 3 and even to 4. I was worried about cramping, but fortunately it never came at any point in the race.
It was a real relief to come to the Elk Park AS, famously run by real cowboys. They were quite friendly, and one even scooted a few steps after me after I left one of my two bottles on the table (seemed to be a real problem for me in this race, when they would take the bottle and fill it while I did something else and got distracted). They said something about the "good part is that you made it under the cutoff." As I left, I realized that I had only about 22 minutes on the cutoff (which I knew from my chart was set at a sub-19 pace for that point).
My average pace slipped in this section to a tortoise-like 35:12 (with all miles rounded off, so that's very approximate, but still!). I hadn't loafed through the section, and no one was gaining ground on me, but nor was anybody in sight in front of me. In fact, I spent over half the race with no one (at least going my direction) in sight before or after me! Talk about spread out in the backcountry! I didn't mind at all--I really kind of enjoy the solitude,but I know it's dangerous pace-wise.
Elkpark 1 to Wilson Creek (27-32)
In retrospect, this was the make or break section. A little shocked I was flirting with the cutoffs and dismayed I couldn't really generate much turnover on the nice, curvy pine-forested descents, my morale faded a bit for a few miles. Would I have to play the old exhausting "beat the cutoffs" game the whole rest of the way? Maybe I should have signed up for the 50K (I joked to a volunteer at th eWilson Creek aid station about it being the 50K finish)? After all, I had already been out several hours longer and several miles longer than I had been since mid-May at MMT. So maybe my eyes had been bigger than my stomach in signing up for a 50-mile so soon?
Well, somewhere along there as I traversed some rolling to flat jeep roads, mostly shaded, I took the second dose of Vivarin and Advil. That seemed to buoy my spirits by the time I hit the next AS. That plus seeing that my pace had picked up, and that my gap on the cutoff had increased to 28 minues! (Somehow my Garmin wasn't properly charged at the start, so my only pace feedback came from comparing my watch times to the pace chart and the various paces I had charted out at each aid station)
My pace in this section improved considerably (thanks to considerable downhill and some flats) to 16:48.
Wilson Creek to Elk Park 2 to Teepee Creek 2 (32 to 39)
There was a little spring in my step, even as I realized we had a considerable climb up the other side of the mountain back UP to Elk Park! But it was through some of the most beautiful sections of the course, as we wound up wooded forests, across meadows with wildflowers and awesome views, and with a lot of pine needles and dirt and not too many rocks. My spirits were buoyed, and now I felt pretty certain I was going to finish this baby!
It was a mental boost to get back to Elk Park again, see the same volunteers, and realize that I was now on the "way back," with a very considerable downhill section ahead! Again, I didn't linger long, just filled by bottles, grabbed a few snacks, and was off.
The downhill felt good, and while my turnover was never great on the downhills throughout the day, I was able to at least take advantage of gravity to run them. The views going down of the valleys and neighboring peaks (one with a few spots of snow) were awesome. It was nice to see the same kids playing at the stream crossing, and to get back to Teepee Creek. Here I had my other drop bag, and took a few minutes to apply sunscreen and body lube, fill up my Heed and Perpeteum bottles, stock up on Endurolytes, and grab my second headlamp just in case. I left with a nice 40 minutes on the cutoffs, which now put me closer to an 18 minute than 19 minute average, which was very pleasing! I knew this would be a finish,and the only question was how far under 16 hours I could go.
I averaged 20:54 on the climb up to Elk Park,and 16:45 on the descent down to Teepee.
Teepee Creek to Casey Meadows to finish
I read from the race description: "From Tepee Creek, the course immediately beings a fairly steep uphill. This entire uphill section is exposed to the afternoon sun. The climbis approximately 2 miles and elevation gain is approximately 1,500'"(up to a little over 7,000'). Indeed! The sun and clouds continued to play tag, and this was maybe the rockiest part of the course. Some of it verging on scrambling at times. It was a LONG, TOUGH climb for that late in the race, but I plodded on steadily. There were some awesome views from up there, and some exposure but nothing too scary. It was also one of the steepest and most technical downhills of the day, descending toward Casey Meadows AS. My pace slowed down to a 22:45 in this section. I was 39 minutes under the cutoff at Casey, and still under a 19 minute pace overall.
Here we were (I thought) back on a section we had been on earlier in the day. It was a little confusing! Anyway, just a few hundred yards behind me was a woman who appeared to be in her 30s, gaining on me. I left the AS just before her, but sensed I should let her pass as she was moving very well. We conferred a little at one tricky turn, and exchanged a few pleasantries. Turns out she had run maybe 4 extra miles in the first 20 due to a wrong turn. That could have been me! Glad I waited at every junction where I wasn't sure throughout the race!
Anyway, after a fairly short climb, with some awesome views down over the valley and of the nearby peaks, we started a fairly steady, windy descent through mostly new growth. Markings were scarce, and I got nervous at a few points, only to finally see the elusive orange duct tape. At one point, there was a considerable climb again, and I saw the woman, who had gone far ahead, waiting for me. No, there hadn't been any turns I had seen, I told her. She ran a little ahead and finally saw a marking and yelled it was ok. From there we wound further down to a small aid station--the last!--at around mile 48, back at Jackson Creek (which didn't look at all familiar from the morning--were we approaching from a different side this time?). In this downhill section I got my pace down to a 16:48. But she was far ahead of me, and I didn't have any illusions of keeping up or catching her.
From the last AS, it was what seemed like a never-ending 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile, including a closed livegstock gate that I chose to climb over as it didn't seem easy to untie and retie the wire closing it, to get back to the dirt road. Now it was mostly a steady 1.5 mile descent on the dirt road to the finish. I didn't have enough left, or much feel compelled, to really turn up the juice, but I managed to run the whole last section on heavy but not unbearable legs. I though, well, might be nice to break 15:15, if I couldn't break 15. Ran into a guy walking towards me with a dog, and he clearly was a runner. I said to him his dog was the pacer I needed all day, and he told me it was just around the bend. I expressed some skepticism as they jogged beside me a few paces (I think he thought I wanted HIM to pace me!), but sure enough around the bend was the campground, and the little right turn intothe finish under pine trees!
It was a pleasant little scene at the finish area, as they offered a nice spread of food. A gentleman handed me a pencil drawing of an elk with the race name and my name and finishing time. Got to talk to Steve, the R.D., who had had to drop out with cramps or some issue at Casey Meadows. And to a guy from Alberta whom I'd talked to early on. And Liz, who came in a few minutes later as last finisher, and her training partner from Sheridan (he had missed the cutoff). And briefly with the woman who passedme and finishe dlike 8 minutes ahead (from AZ, it turned out). We saw a deer in the distance up a ridge. Earlier in the day, I had nearly stepped on a small snake (kicking a rock accidentally toward it as I braked on a dime!), seen various small rodents, a ton of cows,and some kind of vulture-like bird. The wildflowers were spectacular, and even one giant ubiquitous weed with a purple flower was beautiful!
All in all, course beauty aside, I thought this one was just what the doctor ordered! It really gotme back into the swing of things. I learned my legs and mind could still "go there" when the chips were down and the haul was long. The time (15:14:32, for an 18:18 overall pace) wasn't great, and I feel like had I been in better shape and more race-sharp and more time-focused, I should have been able to shave a good half hour to hour on that course. The course is only just one notch below Zane Grey (less technical) and Jemez (less altitude) in difficulty, so it was a good test/tune-up/ramp-up-into-shape run for Cascade. And in terms of the setting, the people, the race organization, the weather, everything was just real darn nice! Really enjoyed it!
Not sure why more folks don't know about HURL Elkhorn, but they should! Maybe they're deliberately keeping it low-key for a reason, so I'll try not to spoil it!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Catching Up...and Getting Back on the Trails!
Well, it's been a few months, and the blog's been a little abandoned! Chalk it up to injury, lack of racing, travel, whatever!
I should have written a recap of my May MMT disappointment (DNF at 65) while the memories were fresh. I still plan to, and have begun at least calculating my splits from AS to AS. There are surely things to be learned from that one from a race strategy point of view. I'll dwell on that later, but the one lesson that sticks in my mind is not to be caught in that sort of limbo of running a 100 on short notice with less than ideal preparation. The whole waiting list phenomenon can throw you for a loop.
I was simultaneously probably overraced yet undertrained in terms of weekly mileage/time on my feet from going through the whole mini-taper/race/mini-recovery cycle too many times. In particular, had I known I was doing MMT, I wouldn't have done Bel Monte and Zane Grey fifties in a month, and particularly the latter only 3 weeks before (with the Canyon mega-hike to boot!). Instead, ideally I would have done maybe one fifty somewhere in the 5-8 week out range. I probably should have just let MMT go and focussed instead on Tahoe and Cascade Crest. But I was just itching to do a 100, and get another 100 finish, and felt like I had a good string of races and winter and spring of training to make it happen. But hindsight is 20/20, huh?!
Anyway, back in early May I strained something on the medial side of my right knee doing pigeon pose from yoga at home. Just would get really sore and stiff from sitting or sleeping in certain positions, though running itself was ok. Almost kept me out of MMT, but I think it got masked a little by the pre-race taper. It held up fine during the race (can't blame the DNF on that!). But I shouldn't have rushed back after really just a week, with a 3 hour run in the Palisades followed by some speedwork a couple days later. By the time I got to Brazil in late May, I knew I needed some more time off.
But the week off in Brazil didn't do the trick. It came back as I resumed training and started back into speed, did a 2 1/2 hour run in Iberapuera Park in Sao Paulo, etc. So then I get back mid-June, am still waiting for my doctor's appointment which isn't supposed to be for another few weeks, and face the Bighorn race just a few days later. A couple days semi-hard training convince me to bag Bighorn trip, and to stop running and just cross-train till I see Dr. Coleman. By the time I see him, and then get back my MRI a week later, I've had another 10 days off, and with no more pain have resumed training for a couple days as I await confirmation of his initial diagnosis of a meniscus tear and probably surgery. But....no tear! No nothing, really! Just take it easy and watch that "high-impact" stuff.
So since I got that news on the eve of July 4th weekend, been building back the running, have been to the Palisades maybe 4 times, in Harriman this past weekend, mileage back up to the 40s or so, just did 5.5 hours in Harriman yesterday. It's going well, and leg strength is coming back and it now feels like I never left the trails. The accent has been on hillwork on the trails. Have been easing back into yoga, and also into lower-body strength work, the last week or so. In the meantime, swimming and biking enough that it feels as if I were tri training!
So...I opted to cancel the Tahoe race too (RD had said I could drop down to 50K, but 7/18 seemed too soon and too far a trip). Instead signed up for HURL Elkhorn on 8/1 in Montana. Psyched! In meantime, it was the aquathlon last weekend, and it's Escarpment this coming one. And I even signed up for a sprint tri for 8/15 two weeks out from Cascade. Not the best taper plan, and it was a weak moment, but it's been two years, and I feel like I can do a shortie. It's also forces me to keep to my plan of relying more on cross-training to build fitness and lose weight and not over-rely on running as I build back the running for Cascade.
Aquathlon went pretty well. A few minutes better than in '07, and 5 slower than in '06. Seems as if the swim/transition split improved, as the run itself was a little slower. Felt pretty unsettled in that confusing start as people got tangled up and the buoy we had to round before heading south/downtown kept getting pushed out further from us (by the current? or by just the force of people swimming toward it and bumping it?). Anyway, after continuing on to try to reach it while others just cut the corner, I finally gave in and headed toward where we needed to go. Felt like it was going to get washed all the way to the George Washington Bridge!
The swimming rhythm got a little better mid-way, once I solved the water in goggles issue. It was a little choppy, and at times I wasn't sure whether to stay closer to shore or further out as there was a wide swath of swimmers. Anyway, the transition was ok. Had forgotten to leave the cap so I had to do without, and this year I didn't try to get fancy and go sockless (which gave me bloody feet a few years back). Nor did I use the fancy no-lace shoes, just the regular shoes and socks.
It felt strange to run on pavement, though it was the familiar tri sensation of passing runners who seemed to be almost running in place (like they must have felt passing me in the water!). I was no speed demon, maybe averaging 7:30s, but I passed a good 20 or 25, and no one passed me. I had had only one very easy speedwork session since before my last layoff, so I was breathing hard. But I still had enough gas to pick it up and catch a few runners in the last 1/4 mile or so and even a couple the last 100 yards. A kinda nice feeling I hadn't had for a while!
All in all, I feel like I'm in a nice training groove. The knee has been just fine. I don't think about it too much at all. I know it's a tall order to rebuild fitness to face the very tough task of finishing CCC in under 32 hours, but I kind of like the challenge (easy to say now, it's still almost 6 weeks out!). I'm trying to recapture that nice groove of intense training combined with good tune-up/re-build fitness races that I had last August before Iroquois. So far, so good, but the big tests lie ahead!
Boy how I missed the trails, and not being able to run. It's SO nice to be able to plan races, build toward goals, and feel "dialed in" again after that depressing hiatus! Don't know how good you've got it till it's taken away for a while!
I should have written a recap of my May MMT disappointment (DNF at 65) while the memories were fresh. I still plan to, and have begun at least calculating my splits from AS to AS. There are surely things to be learned from that one from a race strategy point of view. I'll dwell on that later, but the one lesson that sticks in my mind is not to be caught in that sort of limbo of running a 100 on short notice with less than ideal preparation. The whole waiting list phenomenon can throw you for a loop.
I was simultaneously probably overraced yet undertrained in terms of weekly mileage/time on my feet from going through the whole mini-taper/race/mini-recovery cycle too many times. In particular, had I known I was doing MMT, I wouldn't have done Bel Monte and Zane Grey fifties in a month, and particularly the latter only 3 weeks before (with the Canyon mega-hike to boot!). Instead, ideally I would have done maybe one fifty somewhere in the 5-8 week out range. I probably should have just let MMT go and focussed instead on Tahoe and Cascade Crest. But I was just itching to do a 100, and get another 100 finish, and felt like I had a good string of races and winter and spring of training to make it happen. But hindsight is 20/20, huh?!
Anyway, back in early May I strained something on the medial side of my right knee doing pigeon pose from yoga at home. Just would get really sore and stiff from sitting or sleeping in certain positions, though running itself was ok. Almost kept me out of MMT, but I think it got masked a little by the pre-race taper. It held up fine during the race (can't blame the DNF on that!). But I shouldn't have rushed back after really just a week, with a 3 hour run in the Palisades followed by some speedwork a couple days later. By the time I got to Brazil in late May, I knew I needed some more time off.
But the week off in Brazil didn't do the trick. It came back as I resumed training and started back into speed, did a 2 1/2 hour run in Iberapuera Park in Sao Paulo, etc. So then I get back mid-June, am still waiting for my doctor's appointment which isn't supposed to be for another few weeks, and face the Bighorn race just a few days later. A couple days semi-hard training convince me to bag Bighorn trip, and to stop running and just cross-train till I see Dr. Coleman. By the time I see him, and then get back my MRI a week later, I've had another 10 days off, and with no more pain have resumed training for a couple days as I await confirmation of his initial diagnosis of a meniscus tear and probably surgery. But....no tear! No nothing, really! Just take it easy and watch that "high-impact" stuff.
So since I got that news on the eve of July 4th weekend, been building back the running, have been to the Palisades maybe 4 times, in Harriman this past weekend, mileage back up to the 40s or so, just did 5.5 hours in Harriman yesterday. It's going well, and leg strength is coming back and it now feels like I never left the trails. The accent has been on hillwork on the trails. Have been easing back into yoga, and also into lower-body strength work, the last week or so. In the meantime, swimming and biking enough that it feels as if I were tri training!
So...I opted to cancel the Tahoe race too (RD had said I could drop down to 50K, but 7/18 seemed too soon and too far a trip). Instead signed up for HURL Elkhorn on 8/1 in Montana. Psyched! In meantime, it was the aquathlon last weekend, and it's Escarpment this coming one. And I even signed up for a sprint tri for 8/15 two weeks out from Cascade. Not the best taper plan, and it was a weak moment, but it's been two years, and I feel like I can do a shortie. It's also forces me to keep to my plan of relying more on cross-training to build fitness and lose weight and not over-rely on running as I build back the running for Cascade.
Aquathlon went pretty well. A few minutes better than in '07, and 5 slower than in '06. Seems as if the swim/transition split improved, as the run itself was a little slower. Felt pretty unsettled in that confusing start as people got tangled up and the buoy we had to round before heading south/downtown kept getting pushed out further from us (by the current? or by just the force of people swimming toward it and bumping it?). Anyway, after continuing on to try to reach it while others just cut the corner, I finally gave in and headed toward where we needed to go. Felt like it was going to get washed all the way to the George Washington Bridge!
The swimming rhythm got a little better mid-way, once I solved the water in goggles issue. It was a little choppy, and at times I wasn't sure whether to stay closer to shore or further out as there was a wide swath of swimmers. Anyway, the transition was ok. Had forgotten to leave the cap so I had to do without, and this year I didn't try to get fancy and go sockless (which gave me bloody feet a few years back). Nor did I use the fancy no-lace shoes, just the regular shoes and socks.
It felt strange to run on pavement, though it was the familiar tri sensation of passing runners who seemed to be almost running in place (like they must have felt passing me in the water!). I was no speed demon, maybe averaging 7:30s, but I passed a good 20 or 25, and no one passed me. I had had only one very easy speedwork session since before my last layoff, so I was breathing hard. But I still had enough gas to pick it up and catch a few runners in the last 1/4 mile or so and even a couple the last 100 yards. A kinda nice feeling I hadn't had for a while!
All in all, I feel like I'm in a nice training groove. The knee has been just fine. I don't think about it too much at all. I know it's a tall order to rebuild fitness to face the very tough task of finishing CCC in under 32 hours, but I kind of like the challenge (easy to say now, it's still almost 6 weeks out!). I'm trying to recapture that nice groove of intense training combined with good tune-up/re-build fitness races that I had last August before Iroquois. So far, so good, but the big tests lie ahead!
Boy how I missed the trails, and not being able to run. It's SO nice to be able to plan races, build toward goals, and feel "dialed in" again after that depressing hiatus! Don't know how good you've got it till it's taken away for a while!
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