The last time I was streaking in 2011, I won Brew 2 Brew in April and ran my marathon PR at the Boston Marathon a couple weeks later. After months of lethargy and lack of ambition, I decided that getting a nice consecutive days running streak going again might be just what the doctor ordered to get in shape and motivated again for my 2013 adventures. (What type of streaking did you THINK I was talking about?!)
That being the case, I write you on Day 64. I have run at least one mile every day this year. My average weekly volume is probably floating between 30 - 40 miles, but I feel like I have good base fitness from the running and the intensity of the runs I have been doing.
I have started to formulate a race plan for 2013 that so far consists of 3 road marathons, a 50 miler, and of course, Leadville in August. It just dawned on me that my first road marathon is only about 8 weeks away so it's time to up the mileage volume and get serious about speed. I don't care which race it happens in, but I want a new marathon PR sometime this year. Ideally it would be under 2:45, but even a minute faster than my current best would be acceptable.
Here are the races planned:
Colorado Marathon - Ft Collins - May 5th
Colfax Marathon - Denver - May 19th
Jemez 50 Miler - Los Alamos, NM - May 25th
San Francisco Marathon - Mid-June
Leadville 100 - August
On the tentative list would be the recently resurrected "Moab Alpine to Slickrock 50" aka the MAS 50 in Utah in September. It was my very first 50 miler back in 2008 and I'd love to run it again to see how much I've progressed after 5 years of this crazy long distance running stuff.
My last CF checkup was in late December, and while I wasn't doing ANY running at the time, I'm pleased to report that I had the highest PFT readings (pulmonary function test) that I've had since I was 18. I was at 95% of what a fully healthy individuals lungs should be if they are my same age, height, weight, gender, etc. Not bad at all!
Finally, Holly and I have been married for almost 5 months now, with no talks of divorce so far, so I consider that another victory ;)
JK, babe... I love you.
You should hear from me before May, and I'll keep everyone in the loop if anything exciting happens in the interim.
The 2012 edition of the Leadville Trail 100 is just days away, and for the 4th consecutive year, I'm planning on toeing the starting line. This being the case, I'm long overdue for a running related post to recap my summer, and my training.
Something you might notice towards the top of the page is that my running log seems to have stopped months ago. No, I have not actually stopped running, however, I have stopped logging mileage or wearing a watch. I'm not going to profess to be a "zen" runner or anything like that, but rather, my laziness and lack of desire to track these things (or put a new battery in my watch) has led to a new found freedom and overall enjoyment of running. I've still managed a long run (20+) just about every week since I stopped tracking miles, and I've run at least a mile or two almost every day for about 6 weeks. Exactly how much? I can't really tell you because I don't know myself...
While this is fun, I'm slightly apprehensive going into next week's race. Have I done enough? Am I ready? Honestly, I think so, but my confidence is pretty low right now since I haven't had an ultra finish since February's 100 miler in Texas.
I'd love to beat my 2010 LT100 time of 19:57, but I'm not going to give a predicted time, goal time, or predicted finish... I'll leave that to Karl. All I want to worry about is running until I see that blinking stoplight on 6th Street calling me home!
Next time I write, I'll hopefully have big buckle #4 around my waist and a fun story for all.
After last week's finish at Rocky, Trail Runner magazine contacted me for a follow up interview about the race. Having written an article about me in the December 2011 issue, they were following this event closely to see how I did.
When I first saw a dude wearing a 'Running Sucks' shirt last month, I instantly knew I had to get my hands on one, and that it would definitely get some face time at Leadville this year. Thinking about the words on that shirt around mile 93 (as I layed in the fetal position on a concrete boat ramp shivering uncontrollably) was about the only thing remotely humorous to me over the last 8 hours of this year's Leadville 100... talk about understatement of the decade, Nike. Finally, after 21+ hours on the trail it was over. 21:21, 19th overall.
On a positive note, I successfully picked 7 of the top-10 runners at last weekend's race. Congrats to all my fellow Colorado runners and friends who made this top pack, especially Ryan Burch, who has been overdue for a killer 100-miler for a long time. On a slightly less positive note, I was one of the 3 incorrect guesses, as was my buddy, Dan.
For those of you with ADHD, that was the condensed version. For a slightly more elaborate race recap, keep reading...
Here's how it all went down:
Pre-Race
Thursday was travel, campsite setup, and picture taking day. Friday consisted of the now infamous Ken Chlouber pre-race pep rally, the arrival of the rest of Team GU Demon (the shirt pictured below should explain the name nicely), and a pre-drive to the Mayqueen Aid Station in order to get everyone's bearings.
(Pretty self explanatory shirt design.)
After a little bit of campsite relaxing and an early dinner, it was time for me to pre-tape my feet and call it an early night. 5 restless hours later, the moment I'd been waiting 364 days for had arrived.
Start to Mayqueen
Rather than having defined splits that I wanted to chase in order to bag a sub-19 hour finish, I decided to write all of last year's splits on my arm and use these as a benchmark of how I was doing throughout the day. I like this strategy since it allows me to focus more on how I feel (legs, lungs, stomach), rather than chasing numbers which can be both unforgiving and unattainable at various points in a 100 mile race as fatigue sets in.
(Team GU Demon)
After the shotgun blast went off, I quickly settled into an easy, relaxed pace and prepared to find my rythym for what are by far the easiest miles of the entire race. Without overly exerting myself, I found myself leading after about a mile, and there I would stay all the way into Mayqueen. I do not regret this decision, nor do I think I went out too fast. I was conversing with Michael Arnstein the entire time, and never once lost my breath or felt any leg fatigue, so why in the world would I have gone slower? In the two weeks leading up to the race, I had run almost zilch in order to nurse some nagging foot pains, so it felt easy and relaxed to run the first half marathon in 1:42.
2011 Mayqueen Aid Station (13 Miles): 1:42
2010 Mayqueen Aid Station: 1:48
2009 Mayqueen Aid Station: 1:56
Mayqueen to Fish Hatchery
As I headed into the first real climb of the day, I decided to back off on the pace a little and allow myself to fall into a position near where I hoped to finish (7th to 10th, roughly). I also experience a psychological boost from passing people late in a race, rather than starting off hot and fading. This being said, I still managed to crest the summit of Sugarloaf (11,000ft +) about 14 minutes ahead of last year's time, no worse for wear. Little did I know, life was about to change abruptly.
I had already taken two poo breaks by the time I began descending the powerlines, which is par for the course. What I hadn't anticipated was the nausea that was about to set in as soon as I hit the bottom of the last descent. With a photographer straight ahead, I decided to duck into the trees to puke my guts out as I didn't want to show weakness this early into the race. Once done, I seemed to feel 100x better, shook it off, and resumed running the short stretch of road into the Fish Hatchery, where I took a 5 minute pit stop to replenish as much as possible after my recent GU exorcism. I proceeded to lose several positions due to this long pit stop.
(Fish Hatchery)
2011 Fish Hatchery Aid Station (Mile 24): 3:24
2010 Fish Hatchery Aid Station: 3:38
2009 Fish Hatchery Aid Station: 3:55
Fish Hatchery to Twin Lakes
I felt extremely good after refueling at Fish, and continued feeling that way most of this stretch. Other than a couple more dumps in the woods, I was clicking off consistent miles and didn't walk a step, other than to fumble with a GU, salt, or the iPod. I made up several more positions along here, and bettered my time to Twin Lakes by nearly 20 minutes compared to last year. Nausea gone. No cramps. No falls. Only minor blisters. Sub-19, here I come.
2011 Twin Lakes Aid Station (Mile 40): 5:55
2010 Twin Lakes Aid Station: 6:13
2009 Twin Lakes Aid Station: 7:04
Twin Lakes to Winfield
As I approached the crux of the race course, I performed a self diagnostic and found myself doing surprisingly well. While tired, my legs were still able to churn, and I found myself employing a walk-run-repeat strategy for a good part of the climb up Hope. As always, it seemed like an eternity before I broke out of the trees and got a glimpse ahead to the summit, but eventually I was at the Hopeless Aid Station hanging out with the llamas. I only needed water here, and was quickly back on the trail in hot pursuit of Charles Corfield who was just a couple switchbacks ahead.
I reached the summit around 11:30am (7 hours 30 minutes) and began descending after a short break to catch my breath. Besides another bathroom break about halfway down the mountain, I descended uneventfully, and hit the 2.5 mile gravel treadmill of death into Winfield. This year I was at the base of the trail before I ran into the leader, which told me I was either faster than ever, or the competition was slower than ever. (After seeing how the results panned out, it was definitely the first option.)
Some time was lost on this section due to the blistering heat and sun exposure, and I was forced to walk close to 1/2 mile of it. Regardless, I was still on a nice PR pace as I cruised into the halfway point.
50 down. 50 to go.
Winfield to Twin Lakes
Ahead of pace? Check. Best friend and pacer by my side? Check. What could possibly go wrong?
The answer to that question is nothing... for a while, least.
The backside of Hope pass was predictably hard as always, and the fact that it felt like it was 110 degrees out didn't help the cause. Either way, Andy kept coaxing me along, even if it was just barely one foot in front of the other, and we slowly neared the summit. Seeing lots of familiar faces and well wishers provided a much needed distraction from the arduous task of climbing 3000+ ft, but I was hardly in the mood for pleasantries - I was ready for this sufferfest to be over.
(It was all downhill from here... literally and metaphorically speaking.)
After cresting the summit, I finally started to feel bad. Really bad... and I'm not talking about '55 miles into a hard 100-miler' bad. I'm talking, 'internal organs and brain not functioning properly' bad. I had to sit and drink some fluids at Hopeless, and also pulled the socks for a second to tend to some blisters. Now that I had some fresh contents in my stomach, the real hell could officially begin...
About 2 miles from Twin Lakes, I began my unending cycle of 'puke-recover-repeat' which would last for the next 10 hours. I had a bad blister that needed to be tended to when we finally arrived in Twin, but this would be the least of my worries over the next 40 miles.
Twin Lakes to Fish Hatchery
I had bad diarhea during this stretch of trail and brought my total bowel movement count to 9. More puking ensued, and I finally started to feel sorry for myself and go into pity-party mode. I've been there before and know that it gets a guy nowhere, so I tried to just suck it up as much as possible. Around mile 65 we had a cold rain to contend with on top of everything else. Again though, I know 100-milers are supposed to suck and just tried to keep going as fast as possible. Despite a long break at the Half Pipe aid station and another at the Pipeline crew access point (where I wanted nothing more than to cry like a little kid), I was still making record time! I didn't care... but this just served to reaffirm that I'm a stronger runner this year than in 2010 - despite the disaster I was enduring.
2011 Fish Hatchery #2 (Mile 76): 14:42
2010 Fish Hatchery #2: 14:56
Fish Hatchery to the Finish
I wasn't doing well upon arrival at Fish. Here I needed to sit for over 10 minutes and warm up and have another mini pity-party. I was just so thankful for my friends and family being there and wanted to remind all of them how grateful I was for them. This was followed by apologizing profusely for the disasterous next 24 miles I was sure to have. I had so wanted to impress everyone with a PR and a great placement, and here I had to kiss that goodbye. Sometimes the mind is willing, but the body is weak.
Andy and I eventually hit the road again and as soon as I hit gravel I needed to hit the trees again for my final bowel movement of the day. I felt good for less than 15 minutes and soon was laying on the ground in the middle of the trail begging Andy for a 10 minute nap. I didn't know exactly what was wrong with me, just that I internally, and mentally wasn't right. I knew my salt balance was off to some degree, but I was experiencing a feeling I couldn't put my finger on.
It was like being drunk, sleep deprived, and having the flu... all at the same time.
Hiking resumed at a snail's pace and somehow we were up and over Sugarloaf in the daylight. Surprisingly, I was actually STILL ahead of last years time by the time we hit Hagerman Road. Unfortunately, with recurring vomitting throughout this stretch, I was mostly reduced to a slow downhill walk that afforded Andy and I some time for deep conversation about, life, love, and why we put our bodies through this crap.
By the time we reached Mayqueen, I had finally fallen off of my 2010 pace and collapsed into a chair to warm up. I still hadn't been passed or passed another runner in more than 8 hours when Lynette Clymons finally came cruising by. Neither seeing her, nor hearing that I'd closed the gap on Brendan to within 7 minutes was enough to motivate me to attempt running again.
Andy had gotten extremely dehydrated over the last 37 miles and needed to relinquish his pacing duties at this point. This wasn't a problem though, since most people could crawl as fast as I was now moving. Kelly joined me and we made small talk to pass the time, but I was slowly becoming less lucid and more light headed. Before long I was dizzy and could hardly keep my eyes open. This led to repeated tripping and stumbling. After the longest hour and a half of my life we arrived at the Tabor boat ramp and I insisted on laying down again for my own self-preservation.
I would have been content staying on that cold concrete all night, but my crew finally persuaded me to get back up and dig in for the last 7 miles.
For this stretch Andy's girlfriend Lizzie accompanied me and it was again nice to have someone to talk (listen) to. This helped keep my mind active and I was far more alert as we finished our walk around the lake. The only problem we encountered on this stretch was a dying headlamp, but thankfully I had packed extra batteries that would get me through to the finish. As we were sitting down fumbling with my headlamp, my friend Patrick came running by... he seemed to be hauling and in good spirits. I was pretty stoked for him, yet somewhat jealous of the pace he was holding, since I would have killed to get this suffer-fest over with sooner. On-on we went.
Finally reaching the road I knew it was still 1-1.5 hours before I would be done. Combined with the fact that we passed our campsite along the way, I hit a new low. Another mile down the road more vomitting ensued, and after being depleted for as many hours as I had been, this one brought me to the ground - nearly in tears. Here more familiar faces paced, Tim and Marc if I remember correctly, and I eventually got up and we marched on.
Surprisingly, we eventually saw light and then hit pavement just after 1am. I now knew for a fact I would finish and decided to embrace the moment and walk in with an entourage of 9 other friends, family, and fellow runners. As I approached the red carpet I gladly just walked on through - no need to run now. What a relief to finally be done.
For the record, 21 hours and 21 minutes hurts. I can't imagine what the 28-30 hour finishers must go through. After an hour and a half in the medical tent this year's adventure was finally over.
Never before during any race have I wanted to quit so bad for so long, but never before have I been so determined not too. I was not about to disappoint my friends and family who had come out to support me by dropping. I'd never felt as selfish as when I gave into the pain at Hardrock last summer, and held true to my vow to never experience that feeling again.
While I'm on the subject of crew, I need to thank Shelley, Kelly, Eric, Andy, Holly, and Lizzie for providing the hours and days of support and forcefulness I needed in order to get Leadville finish #3 under my belt. It sounds cliche' to say "I couldn't have done it without you", but honestly, I couldn't have. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Don't let the post title deceive you - I have had much bigger suffer-fests, by far - but that doesn't mean White River was a cake walk, or that things went exactly as planned.
(Mt. Ranier - The backdrop to White River.)
(Getting the low-down on the route from Mr. Henshaw.)
(Time to square off.)
To start with, the weather was pretty hot, which generally leads to slower times. Judging from the complete results, this was a slow year, even for the elite-level guys. As I mentioned in my previous post, I had thrown all definitive time goals out the window when I discovered snowy conditions still existed on sections of the course, and it's a good thing I did. 7:15 ended up being the time Andy ran, and his goal was sub-7. Even Uli ended up running a time of 6:49 that, while fast, was well slower than his previous best of 6:32.
(The start)
The race starts with about 4 miles of flat and then rolling terrain, before you hit the longest and steepest of the 2 climbs on the course - a 12 mile ascent to the Corral Pass aid station. I was able to run nearly every step of this climb, but was conscientously being conservative at the same time, knowing that the 2nd climb is supposedly where the race is won or lost. Combined with some of my usual problems - a bowel movement and a pair of minor falls - I reached the mile 17 aid station close to my original goal time but considerably farther back in the field than I'd hoped to be (approximately 20th place).
At Corral Pass I had to take my longest break of the day to get composed, take rocks out of my shoes, fix a broken handheld water bottle, scarf some calories, and lose the last of my warm clothing (gloves). In all, I probably lost 6 minutes here. It was definitely a huge boost though seeing familiar faces, as always. At each aid station I had the pleasure and psychological boost of seeing Holly, Andy's parents (Cheryl and Todd), and his girlfriend Lizzie.
(In a funk trying to get my bearings at Corral Pass.)
After saying my goodbyes I took the first long descent relatively conservatively and arrived back at the Camp Creek aid station (mile 27) near the start/finish in 19th - partially due to another bowel movement during the descent. Here I just topped off the necessities, said hi to everyone, and mentally dug in for the beginning of the real race.
Over the next 10 miles of mostly climbing, it got incredibly hot and exposed BUT I was determined to push through the pain and discomfort no matter what. By the end of the climb, I had vomitted several times (around the mile 32 aid station), felt like crap the whole time, and somehow managed to improve my position by 10 places!
After taking a second to appreciate the incredible views of Mt. Ranier from the Suntop Lookout aid station, I decided to let gravity help for a while and let the quads have their turn suffering. The next 6.5 miles are all downhill on a hard, steep, and dusty gravel road and aren't as enjoyable as one would imagine - even after 2 hours of climbing. Despite the pain in my legs and more stomach problems, I was able to cover this section in just under 43 minutes, and in doing so, I was in 6th place at the last aid station (mile 44).
While refueling to prepare for the last 7 miles of rolling, rocky, rooty terrain under a gigantic tree canopy alongside the White River, I was passed by one of the runners who I had overtaken just a few minutes prior. I left the aid station just a few seconds behind him, but pursuit was all for naught after I performed my best superman impression about a mile from the aid station. Toes were stubbed and screaming with pain, and my thumb rammed into a rock and split open under the nail. This pain and frustration took the fight out of me and I went into suffer mode for the next 5-6 miles, wishing for nothing else but for the pain to be over.
Finally, I rounded the last bend out of the trees and back toward the air strip and crossed the finish in 7:49 - good for 7th overall.
(7th place. 7:49.49)
I bit the bullet and soaked in the river after the race and within 2 minutes my legs were numb and my lips were purple. Even though this frigid water was excruciating to sit in, I think it greatly helped in my recovery as I'm not nearly as sore as usual after a 50-miler. I'm mainly nursing a really sore hamstring on my left leg, but I have no doubt I can be 100% recovered by Leadville as long as I take it somewhat easy this week.
(Post race freeze-fest.)
The rest of our time in the Seattle area was very relaxing and full of good seafood. A few more pics:
(Getting our post-race grub on.)
(Hey Brooks, which way to the Olympic Mountains?)
(We even found time to bag Rainier before catching our flight!)
And now, it's Leadville or Bust!
After landing in Denver, we tried to catch these guys at the Larimer Lounge, but the show sold out:
Here's what I know so far about this coming weekend:
Lots of snow still. What this means is fixed ropes and miscellaneous treachery for about 2 miles of the course. CAN NOT WAIT!
Bib #4. This is the same number I had when I won Brew to Brew in April. I'm not superstitious at all, but I'm still excited to have gotten this race number.
Live tracking via Twitter. I don't know much about this Twitter crap, but if you just can't contain your excitement and need to know where the runners are at at all times, then go to: http://twitter.com/#!/whiteriver50
I had an A goal of running <7:15 going into this week, but after hearing more about the course conditions, I wouldn't be surprised if only the top 1 or 2 guys go this fast. This being the case, all time goals are out the window, and I would be ecstatic with claiming a top-10 at this iconic race, regardless of how long it takes me. We shall see!
Oh, and finally, I predict a big win for the recently unstoppable Andy Henshaw. He's super fit right now as he is looking to improve on his world-leading 100k time from April, when he races in the 100k World Championships in September in the Netherlands.
As I mentioned in my last post, I found out I'd be running the San Juan Solstice 50 miler on short notice. This being the case, my expectations - along with my training - were not very impressive. I had just barely started breaking the 50 miles per week barrier in training again after my long post-Collegiate Peaks hiatus, and this isn't exactly the mileage necessary to succeed at a mountain 50 that many tout as the hardest in North America.
This made for an interesting attitude and dynamic going into last weekend...
Basically, I was planning on participating in a gorgeous 50 mile "fun-run" with no time goals whatsoever (sub-12 was all I really hoped for in the back of my mind) that would ultimately serve as good Leadville training. Also because of not planning on running this one, I had no transportation or lodging arrangements going into the week of the race. Here, I have to thank Andy Wooten and his girlfriend Melissa for letting me tag along on the ride down and back, and for providing me a roll-out bed to sleep on in their cabin - not sleeping on the floor goes a long way to a succesful race!
Friday was filled with traveling down to Lake City, eating as much as possible, and attending the pre-race meeting and packet pick up. Having only gotten a couple hours of sleep the night before, I had no problem calling it an early night after the necessary pre-race prep. Speaking of which, check out the real secret to my newfound speed:
(Feel fast. Be fast. Thanks, Holly)
Before I get to the race recap itself, here's a link to the race website, as well my very loose synapsis of the SJS 50 - solely based on personal perception after hearing two years' worth of musings by other runners. http://web.me.com/grayj923/San_Juan_Solstice_50_Mile_Race/Welcome.html
San Juan: Run to 13000 ft. Descend to 9000 ft. Repeat. Run through a river. Run through some snow. Start to dry off. Repeat. Run along the Continental Divide and pray you don't get struck by lightning. Basically, just plan on suffering. ALL DAY. This is the only 50 miler I've encountered which requires a 16 hour cut-off time, thus the reason for the late-June race date on the Saturday nearest the summer solstice on June 21st. Generally, if you talk to the experienced mountain runners in the U.S. they will almost invariably say the toughest 50 they've run is either San Juan, Jemez, or Zane Grey.
This year however, due to record snow and runoff levels, a new "alternate-alternate" course had to be used. The route that was decided upon actually had slightly more vertical over more climbs - 13000+ ft of gain spread amongst 4 ascents - but lacked the river crossings, and the same amount of mileage on the Continental Divide. When all was said and done, it sounds like this was an equally difficult course, just for different reasons.
(Heading out to suffer all day. Fun.)
To the race...
Climb #1 of 4 starts about 1.5 miles into the race and is the "baby" of the 4. This is good, as it primes you for the real hell that comes later. On this first ascent, I started about 15 people back from the leaders and went down from there. I wasn't having any problems, I just didn't want to burn out my calves early, so I hiked it at a moderate pace, even stopping twice to answer natures call(s). This climb up Vickers Ranch was crested about 1:30 into the race and we then began the descent to the mile 11 aid station.
Side note: Neither the climbs, nor the descents are pleasant at San Juan. They are uncomfortably steep in both directions, thus the reason it has earned the nickname Hardrock Jr. or Hardrock Lite.
Anyway, on this descent, I along with about 50 other runners got off course at various times and points. Thankfully, I was only misguided for a half mile or so, and soon ran into another group who was just getting back on track. Here I was surprised to see Karl Meltzer just ahead and ended up running with him into the Silver Coin aid station. I stocked up on GU's and fluid and prepared for the first 'real' climb of the day.
I now relaxed and told myself I didn't have to push climb #2 since there needed to be something left in the tank for later. This caused me to power hike most of the climb with a little running interspersed here and there. Surprisingly, without spending much effort, I began passing runner after runner on this section, finally cresting after almost an hour and a half of climbing right as Karl came back into my sights (he had left me in his dust at the previous aid station). There was some confusion while running the high ridges before the descent, and thankfully another runner saw me and yelled in order to keep me on course. Looking back, had I taken the wrong turn to my left, I would have missed out on an extra 1/2 mile of suffering that I would have regretted in the end... masochistic, I know.
On this first LONG descent which eventually took us to the mile 22 aid station, I started to have my first major issues of the day, and they came in bunches:
Knees and quads started hurting
Bowel problems - Poo #2
Vomitting ensued.
The puking was due to choking on a salt tablet, so it was no big deal as long as I was able to replenish fluids at the next aid station. I was more concerned with self-preservation than placement at this point, so I gladly allowed a handful of runners to overtake me as I approached the aid station. Once there, I took my shoes and socks off and made my one long pit-stop of the day. Rather than worrying about the lost time, I deemed it necessary if I was going to finish the race at all.
After attending to my fuel, fluid, and foot issues (I taped some toes), I hit what had to be the worst part of the course, the seemingly never ending gravel treadmill of death. I had flashbacks of the long road sections at Leadville that seem so easy, but quickly defeat and crush you. I was reduced to the point where I was walking some gradual uphill sections when I ran into Ben (Diana Finkels' husband) and began talking with him. This seemed to greatly increase both of our spirits, and we were able to sustain a run together for the majority of this 5-ish mile section.
Climb #3 was a welcome change of scenery from the road, despite it seeming like a never-ending haul up to the Yurt Aid Station. It was tough not knowing when or where the aid station would be; all they told us in the pre-race briefing was that it would depend on how bad the jeep roads were (snow and mud), and that it would be somewhere between miles 31 and 34. I hadn't seen a soul in over an hour and had no idea what place I was in overall, when I caught my first glimpse of another runner near the top. It ended up being my buddy Mike Patrizi, and it was nice to both see a familiar face, and also realize I was making up ground on other runners. This was the first time all day that I started to smell blood and get my competitive juices flowing. After this I overtook two more runners as we ran on the Continental Divide, despite having bowel movement #3 somewhere around mile 33.
At the aid station I wasted no time in filling up my water bottles and slamming down some Coke since I was really looking forward to the long downhill that was coming. After a couple hours of labored breathing, I looked forward to switching to the pain of downhill running... at least it would be my knees hurting and not my lungs. Right before leaving the aid station, I asked what position I was in and how far behind the previous runner I was. To my surprise, they said I was in 6th and that Duncan Callahan had gone through about 5 minutes earlier.
Game on.
After another mile or so on the Divide, there was an open uphill section that afforded me a view for about a half mile ahead of me, and this was when I caught my first glimpse of Duncan. I soon hit the long, steep, and rocky downhill jeep road to the Slum Gullion aid station and started to really open it up with hopes of gaining on the Leadville 100 champ.
About 2 miles from the aid station I was bombing down the mountain, keeping my eyes focused on the technical trail in front of me, when I happened to briefly look up and see a giant kitty cat dart in front of me and up the hill to my right. Yep; that just happened.
Seeing a 120lb (+/-) mountain lion less than 30 yards away has a startling affect on an unarmed and depleted runner who has been on his feet for almost 8 hours. At first it didn't really sink in, but once I fully realized what I just saw, I proceeded to find a gear I never knew I had. Mix this reckless abandon with all the grunting and growling and arm-flailing I was doing, and I must have been a sight to see. Thankfully, this was the last I saw of Mr. Catamount, and I soon was at the aid station telling my story. Here I also got a huge surge of adrenalin after hearing I was still only about 5 minutes behind Duncan, and from getting cheered through by Dakota Jones and Scott Jurek.
Quickly it was back to the trail, and within 5 minutes I was beginning the final climb of the day. Before sacrificing all the energy left in my tank, I decided to lighten my load one last time in the bushes. This made it a total of 4 bowel movements on the day, not to mention a vomit break, and 3 or 4 pee breaks...
Anyway, I knew that it wasn't going to be a fun climb, but at least the hard work would be over after I crested. Finally, about 1/2 mile from the top, I entered the meadow at the top of Vickers and not only saw Duncan only 2 minutes ahead, but another runner far off in the distance: Karl Meltzer.
At this point I was confident I could overtake Duncan on the climb, but the doubtful part was whether or not I could fend him off over the 5 mile descent to the finish line. Karl was probably 7 minutes ahead right here and I realized catching him was out of the question. Duncan and I crossed the top at the same time and after regaining our breath and chatting for a second, I decided it was time to run as hard as I possibly could until I finished or collapsed - whichever came first.
After several miles of running downhill with reckless abandon, I hit the final paved mile to the finish line, constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting to get reeled in, but it was not to be.
I cruised through the finish line 9 hours and 48 minutes, 13,000+ ft, 18 GU's, and 51.5 miles after starting my little jaunt through the mountains. I ended up 6th overall, about 4 minutes behind Karl. (Clearly the Yurt aid station had mis-quoted when they said I was in 6th at that point.)
(It was a good day for the C-Springs contingent.)
(El Conquistador and his booty.)
So back to the title of my post: Confidence.
I don't know if something is physically changing for me, or if I was just lucky on that particular Saturday, but I'm starting to consistently run with the lead pack guys, and I really can't process it yet. Regardless, I have a newfound confidence and predatory instinct going into the home stretch before Leadville. I'll have one more test before then when I race White River in about a month. Hopefully this will help to increase my confidence further as I hunt for a sub-19 hour Leadville 100.
Boston is so close I can taste it.
For the very first time, I'm actually stoked to do this race! Yeah, I ran a long and hard race less than two weeks ago, but besides a little residual fatigue, I feel good... really, really good...
And fast.
This is a totally new concept and experience for me. As I sit here, I'm full of confidence and mentally prepared to run low-6 minute miles for an entire marathon. Wait, I had to just re-read that... I'm having a hard time believing what I just wrote and that I honestly think I can go sub-2:50 (or faster). I say this because less than two years ago, I had already run numerous marathons in an attempt to just qualify for Boston, all of which had been failures from a time perspective. (My first 6 or 7 road marathons where all between 3:15 and 3:35.)
And now, having only run one road marathon per year the last two years, I've managed to shave 10 minutes off my PR at each, putting my current best at 2:55. It's hard to quantify what finally clicked, but it's an exhilarating feeling to have finally gotten to this point. Surely, it's just strength and consistency that did it.
Anyway, for the sake of making me accountable, I'm going to show some cards and mention some of my goals/predictions.
D-Goal: Just Finish
C-Goal: Sub-2:55 (new PR)
B-Goal: Sub-2:53 (JT's PR and lots of smack-talking rights)
A-Goal: 2:45-2:47
JT and I have an over/under bet on whether or not I'll beat Joan Benoit Samuelson. Considering she ran a 2:47.xx last October - setting the over-50 female world record - I consider this a lofty goal. JT has 'over', and there's a good chance he'll be winning a 6 pack on this one, but I love the challenge!
Sub-2:46 also has a nice ring to it since it's the women's qualifying standard for the Olympic Trials, and Karl Meltzer did think I was a woman going into Hardrock last summer, so why not? This will be another goal in the back of my mind.
Oh, and Andy, who clearly has more confidence in me than I do, thinks I'll break 2:40. He's a good friend, but he obviously needs to get off the LSD. No offense.
This should be fun. At the very least, I like my chances of breaking the 'Skinny Guy with Cystic Fibrosis and Gout' World Record...
Time to add another great racing/roadtrip weekend to the books... and honestly, this one was better than most, if not all of my big races to date.
Friday
I was able to finish packing and finally hit the road a little after 8:00 am for the 600 mile drive to Kansas City.
(Fueled up and ready to roll)
Not having planned this trip too well, I forgot about the time change and had to make up an hour in order to pick up friend, pacer, and runner extraordinaire, Andy and his lady-friend Lizzie, at the airport. Needless to say, I was not cool with the 70 mph speed limits and might have gone a little fast at times...
Friday afternoon I got pulled over near Manhattan, KS for...
... no front plate. There was a huge sigh of relief as the cop let me go without even an official written warning. It was shaping up to be a good weekend.
I arrived at the KC airport right on time at 5:30, and increased the size of the wolfpack from 1 to 3. The rest of the evening was super chill and included an easy 4 mile run to break up the stiffness of sitting in the car, as well as some beer and pizza with our host, Shelley. Around 10:00, Matt, the last member of our core group for the race, arrived.
Saturday
Since it's a good idea to keep the time on your feet to a minimum before a big race, Saturday was the day of spectator sports. After a late breakfast and an early lunch, we started the festivities by going to watch Shelley's son, Josh, dominate at peewee soccer.
(Don't let looks fool you. We are all children)
This was followed by packet pickup. We had jokingly said there was going to be a life-size cardboard cutout of my likeness when we walked through the door... and there was! (Just kidding.) I got to meet the race director, Lou Joline, as well as a fellow CF patient who was volunteering with the race. It's really exciting to see more and more healthy individuals around my age with the disease.
Packets in tow, it was time to head to the Royals game (2 hours late) to see if we could still get tickets. The only advantage of showing up super late was the great parking options.
(Our makeshift parking permit that got us into the VIP lot)
We figured it would probably be in the 5th or 6th inning, which made $15 bucks a totally fair price to pay. After buying our tickets and getting inside, we discovered it was actually the 9th inning. Within 2-3 minutes the game was over... apparently the game started an hour earlier than we'd thought.
Thankfully, as we were feeling Royally ripped off (corny, I know) and leaving the stadium we caught wind of a 2nd game, and although minor-league, it was a pick your own seat format so we made our way behind home plate, grabbed some brews, and enjoyed the beautiful day.
After a great homemade pasta dinner, I hit the road for a couple final pre-race miles while the rest of the crew pre-drove the course. I called it a night around 10:00.
Sunday - Race Day
Race morning arrived quickly and my crew and I headed over to the race start at Boulevard Brewery around 5:30 to meet up with Natalee and company.
In possibly the most unorthodox preparation of all time for a runners first ultramarathon, she came into the race prepared with a stubborn disposition, and a longest training run of 8.3 miles under her belt. Fast forward to later that afternoon, and she had succesfully completed 44 long, hot, windy miles through Satan's blast furnace! I'm proud to officially welcome her to the club! With that kind of determination (and maybe some stupidity), it's only a matter of time before she's lined up for a 100 miler... and likely with a longest training run of less than 20 miles.
Anyway, back to the race. The first 5-6 miles are through an industrial district in downtown KC with a very 'rapish' feel to them. Due to the number of turns with underpasses to run under, over, and along, as well as the early morning darkness, Andy offered to pace me through these miles. He and I took the lead right out of the gate and followed a motorcycle escort for the first mile or so.
(Taking the early lead)
It was downright scary how easy a sub-7 minute pace was feeling, and I made it a point to remind myself that 44 miles is a long way and that I wasn't going to feel so hot all day. Regardless, the pace kept picking up through these miles, until I was sustaining miles in the 6:35 range. Through this first stretch, the only thing that had me a little concerned was the fact that it was already in the mid-60's, and the sun wasn't even up yet. It was gonna be a hot one!
For close to 30 miles the race is on paved roads and rural highways, which doesn't afford a lot of room to elaborate on the scenery. Instead, I'll talk about the thoughts and observations that were bouncing around in my head.
Excitement. It felt incredible leading the race and gave me a huge surge of adrenalin for the first few hours.
(Nobody as far as the eye can see)
(About a 3 mile lead at this point)
I have a newfound hatred for wind. I don't even want to get started on it... so much pent-up anger.
Rednecks in trucks trying to veer onto the shoulder to take out runners are plentiful in KS.
Fast splits. After about 20 miles, I realized I was going to be close to my marathon PR, despite a relatively moderate exhertion level. I ended up running just under 2:57 at 26.2, despite constant headwinds or hills from miles 20-26. My 50k time was approximately 3:33.
This is possibly the worst song to have stuck in your head for hours:
Around the 50k mark there was a river crossing where we got to take a quick breather and a boat ride.
(We're on a boat. Lonely Island would be proud)
Then it was more of the same, except on crushed rock this time, which is like a Vitamix blender for the bottoms of your feet.
(Miles and miles of this crushed rock...)
This is also where the heat started to take a serious toll on me both physically and mentally. Combined with a badly cramping left leg, and sustained 40 mph headwinds, my wheels began to fall off. The course was all on rock or gravel from here to the finish, and also began to get hilly. Walking became the only option on some of the uphills, and around mile 35, my body revolted.
(The calm before the storm)
(Pretty self explanatory)
Until this point I was still hovering around Andy's course record pace (5:11), but it was now time to kiss that goodbye. After a few minutes getting my bearings and trying to get some determination back, Andy and I were soon running again. I had to sit down as we arrived at the last aid station (mile 39-ish) and dump water on my head while trying to figure out why I was feeling so disoriented. I couldn't tell if it was dehydration, or hyponatremia, I just knew my body was hating me.
Hitting the last levy stretch of the run, it was virtually impossible to even WALK at a decent pace due to the constantly increasing wind speeds. About 3 miles from the finish, I started running again.
(The home stretch. 1.5 to go)
With a mile to go Andy directed my attention to a bridge in the distance that signified the end of my suffering for the day. Apparently I was overdue for one more cruel and sadistic joke, and we discovered that the finish line location had been moved about a half mile away from where the race ended in '09, the year Andy won. I had nothing left in the tank mentally or physically, and had to walk for about a minute before finally running it in.
Final time: 5:35.31. 1st overall.
Splits:
20 miles - 2:13
26.2 miles - 2:57
50k - 3:33 (New PR)
Had I been extremely motivated, I could have run 6 more miles JUST for the sake of claiming a huge 50 mile PR, but I'd had my share of being miserable for one day.
Even when taking the Brew to Brew handicap structure into account, this time was good enough for the overall win and Kansas state ultrarunning championship title! Who knew there was such a thing?
(Kansas state champ... from Colorado)
To round out the whole experience, I was invited up to speak on behalf of the CF Foundation at the post race dinner. It was so surreal to have actually won a race to benefit CF, while having the disease myself. This excitement - and the few beers I'd had before going up there - made it very easy to speak in front of a packed house.
After saying bye to Andy and Lizzie and getting a cat-nap in, the evening was spent with Natalee and Kristen, as well as fellow Colorado racers Dave, Geoff, and Andy. BBQ, beer, and video putt-putt golf kept us entertained, but we were all pretty gassed so we opted to save our big night on the town for Monday.
Monday
Monday was a pretty chill recovery day with the Indianapolis crew that consisted of frequent eating, limping around the Plaza shopping district and spending money, lots of whining from Natalee, meeting and interviewing with the local Mizuno rep, and fellow ultrarunner, Sophia Wharton (who provided me with the awesome shoe choices for the race), a short run, relaxing, more whining, watching the NCAA Basketball championship downtown, and then a little bar hopping. We were even able to teach the art of 'shaky-face' photography to some new people!
(Trained professionals, kids)
(Running long distances affects all differently)
(The seemingly gracious loser of the darts championship....)
(... stabbing me in the neck shortly thereafter)
So just in case you suspected I had a decent maturity level, I hope the above photos and story prove otherwise.
Tuesday
The drive home always seems longer than the initial trip. Amidst fighting off sleepiness, boredom, and extremely stiff legs from driving all day, I had the excitement of getting pulled over by yet another Kansas State Trooper. This time I was speeding, and swerving while playing on my phone. Surely I was overdue for my first Kansas ticket... nope. A written warning and I was on my way. Not trying to press my luck, I finally gave in and did the speed limit the rest of the way home.
1200+ total miles of driving was seriously improved with the addition of great new tunes. I stocked up last week and had 7 new albums to keep me company. Despite 3-4 which got major play-time, I think The Strokes newest takes top honors for being album of the trip. Here's the track that got me through:
Many thanks to my friends both old and new for being there last weekend! It was definitely the people that made this trip so awesome!
2012: Bear Chase - 50 Miles 7:31.05 - 5th Place Colorado Colfax Marathon 2:50.02 - 4th Place Collegiate Peaks - 25 Miles 3:32.xx - 6th Place Rocky Raccoon - 100 Miles 14:58.37 - 4th Place(100 Mile PR)
2011: Bear Chase - 50 Miles 6:58.55 - 2nd Place(50 Mile PR) Leadville Trail 100 21:21.31 White River - 50 Miles 7:49.49 - 7th Place San Juan Solstice - 50 Miles 9:48.17 - 6th Place Collegiate Peaks - 50 Miles 7:38.15 - 5th Place Boston Marathon 2:49.37(Marathon PR) Brew to Brew - 44 Miles 5:35.31 - 1st Place Salida Marathon 3:35.31 - 8th Place
2010: The North Face, San Francisco - 50 Miles 8:48.37 Deadman Peaks - 54 Miles 9:26.20 - 2nd Place Bear Chase - 50 Miles 7:16.44 - 3rd Place Run Rabbit Run - 50 Miles 9:21.00 - Very sick on raceday Leadville Trail 100 19:57.52 - 11th Place Hardrock Hundred DNF Blue Canyon - 50 Miles 11:02.00 - 1st Place Jemez Mountain - 50 Miles 10:56.12 Colorado Colfax Marathon 2:55.16 - 3rd Place Collegiate Peaks - 50 Miles 7:46.05 - 8th Place Desert R.A.T.S. - 50 Miles 9:02.50 Salida Marathon 4:08.43 Rocky Raccoon - 100 Miles 17:31.26 - 12th Place
2009: Xterra Trail Marathon 4:16.05 - 4th Place The North Face, Washington, D.C. - 50 Miles 7:45.42 - 6th Place Leadville Trail 100 23:21.27 Bighorn - 50 Miles 10:22.27 - 10th Place Colorado Colfax Marathon 3:05.32 - 11th Place Collegiate Peaks - 25 Miles 3:55.59 Desert R.A.T.S. - 50 Miles 8:49.26 - 6th Place Carlsbad Marathon 3:35.30 - Injured
2008: Denver Marathon 3:21.53 MAS 50 11:04.00 - 1st 50 Miler San Francisco Marathon 3:15.54 High Mountain 50k 5:21.54 - 7th Place Estes Park Marathon 3:35.41 Colorado Marathon 3:21.26
2007: Denver Marathon 3:31.39 ADT Marathon 3:21.54 (1st time running over 16 miles)
