Kicking Off 2012 Like I Know What I'm Doing

First person race recaps that don't start with disclaimers or excuses are always best - for both the reader and the author - and I'm proud to say that I have no preface for my 2012 Rocky Raccoon 100 race synapsis, so here we go!

With the repetitive nature of a loop course, I doubt anybody wants to read a mile-by-mile play-by-play, so instead, I'll mention the highlights and time-splits that broke the monotony of suffering for a long time. (Also, after a while the scenery and distance all starts to blend together into a rain-soaked mush, so I couldn't get too detailed if I tried.)

To get things rolling, race morning began with a reinactment of The Flood, minus Noah and ark full of animals. Holly, Eric (crew chief extraordinaire), and I sat in the car counting down the final minutes before the race start, all the while in complete awe of the storm. We'd almost gone off the road while driving 10 mph, so how in the world was running 100 miles going to treat a guy?! Coupled with the fierce lightning, at least I had the backup option of getting electricuted early and not having to suffer all day and night...

Lap 1 - Splish Splash
20 Mile Time: 2:32

Around mile 2.5 the rain had backed off slightly and the feet were still dry, which was my main goal for lap 1. The longer I could delay the onset of blisters, the better, but when it came time to negotiate the first major flash-flood, I tripped on a hidden root and went face first into the water. Every square inch of my body was submersed... so much for dry feet. This was a blessing in disguise though, because now I could just take the path of least resistance when I encountered mud or water and didn't need to pussy-foot around.

The downside(s)? Apparently my Timex lost it's waterproof-ness when I recently changed the battery, and water tends to fry electronics. So much for knowing my splits or when to eat and take salt. From here on, I had to rely on feel and just listen to my body, and use the aid stations as a rough estimate of time.

This little swim also jacked up my headlamp, and it was now out of commission for night duties later on. I had to survive about 35 more minutes with terrible light and rolled my ankle several times. I made a mental note to high-step more than usual and that I better not sprain my ankle less than 10 miles into a 100. Apparently it worked, because after the sun came up, I didn't really have ANY more falls or close calls!

Lap 2 - Finding a Rhythm
40 Mile Time: 5:17

This stretch was all about backing off and setting a comfortable (using the term loosely), sustainable pace. Going out in 2:32 had been a bit of a risk, but then again, you can't have epic success without risking epic failure. I ended up doing this lap in a more comfortable 2:45 with the only noteworthy events being a brief break from the rainfall, along with my 2nd poo break of the day. I could already tell my bowels were going to hold up much better than at Leadville last summer.

Lap 3 - PR and Pain
60 Mile Time: 8:14

At this point I realized lap 3 brought with it the incentive of a new 50 mile PR, but not having a watch anymore, I could only guess what that actual number might be. From asking other runners and the aid station volunteers, it appears I went through 50 in about 6:39. Here I realized that I would most likely get my goal of 16:30 - barring any disasters.

Shortly after mile 53-ish, the blisters that had been forming on a couple of my toes decided to burst and ooze... yet, I surprisingly just didn't care. I was running strong - having not walked a step yet - and realized from my past experiences, that while painful, blisters shouldn't be a major concern or hinderance. So on I pushed...

Lap 4 - I Hate Josh
80 Mile Time: 11:28

I continued my pattern of changing socks after each lap (which ended up costing me an extra 17 minutes over the course of the day), and hit the course again. This time, while telling my crew what I needed before heading back out, I informed them that I needed a pacer to at least get me to the first aid station, otherwise, I would not be able to get going again. Eric volunteered, and after the now-traditional kiss and "I love you" to Holly, we started running again as I braced myself for what I remember as the toughest lap in 2010.

To my surprise, my legs were able to start turning over again, and I soon was running solo after about a mile. My next huge mental boost came when I passed Ian Sharman and his pacer just before the Nature Center (mile 63). It was unfortunate to see him in that condition, but it gave me the surge I needed to continue on. I still hadn't walked a step, and was now determined to keep that streak alive until at least mile 80.

(Still running at 63 miles)

Shortly thereafter, I encountered Josh Katzman for what was probably the 5th or 6th time of the day. We had never been more than 5 minutes apart at any point, and we ended up running the remainder of lap #4 together. It was both fatiguing and motivating at the same time: On the one hand it was great to have someone to commiserate with off and on for close to 80 miles, but on the other, it made me push myself way past my comfort zone when I really didn't care to.

My favorite part was when we both had our pacers beside us and were running up one of the steeper hills towards the end of lap 4. Josh asked: "How are you feeling?", to which I clearly lied "Great!", in more of a grunt than spoken word. I reciprocated: "You?", to which I received the same lie "Great!"... it got a laugh from the pacers, and now that I'm not suffering, I can look back and laugh at it as well. Ah, the psychological games...

In all honesty, it was great having Josh around for so much of the day, and I'd like to think we both pushed each other to our very respectable times of 14:58 and 15:36. (He held on for 5th place.)

Lap 5 - I Hate Meredith
Final Time: 14:58

When I saw that I was only at 11:28 for 80 miles, I decided to forego the last sock change in hopes of getting the pain over with sooner. I also knew that Meredith Terranova - who had paced Ian Sharman to his win last year - was going to be helping me once I got to mile 83. She had brought me through the last few miles of lap 4 after Ian dropped, and had told me she would pace me for the rest of the race as long as she got a quick break to grab some food and a headlamp.

I had STILL not walked a step, and she was determined to keep it that way, even though I was not! At mile 86, she needed to take a quick pit-stop, and told me not to wait for her, but that she would catch up with me in a mile or so. Why did I soon hate Meredith? That mile turned into 6. We finally reconvened at mile 92, and I was not in a very talkative mood. Not only had I just endured a pity-party for almost an hour, but I'd crapped my pants in the process... literally.

About 5 minutes later I told her how much I hated her, but after some negotiating, we decided that a sub-15:30 would be her redemption, and that she would achieve BFF status if she helped make it happen.

At mile 95.5-ish I saw my crew for the last time, and asked the time as we were heading out of the aid station: 14:20. I said my goodbyes and resumed running. I dreaded it, but I was now going to push through the pain and run every step, no matter what. The mental exhaustion of pushing when every fiber of your body is seizing up and begging for relief, is indescribable. While this course is no Leadville, my desire to go fast made me suffer and hurt more than at any point in my 3 Leadville finishes. I'd like to think I'm now a stronger person because of it.

At long last we crested the final hill and I tossed my water bottle and went into sprint-mode. Meredith had avoided the question of time for the last 4.5 miles and so I really didn't know what to expect when the race clock finally came into view... 14:58.xx... I couldn't believe it!

Oh yeah, in case you're wondering, I don't hate Meredith anymore!
Results can be found here: http://tejastrails.com/docs/Rocky_res_2012.html

(Post-race boatramp reinactment)

(In the medical tent with one of my biggest motivations!)

In conclusion, it was the race of my life so far. Not only because of my time, but because of the great people I got to spend the weekend with. Having Holly, Eric, Marc, Amanda, Dan, Karen, Andy, Melissa, and Amy as housemates, crew members, and fellow racers was a blast!

(Post race toe-carnage. At least 4 nails are goners...)

Everyone who's run a marathon (or farther) will appreciate this one:



While I ran the whole race without music, I did have a good one stuck in my head:

Healthy Brooks = Happy Brooks

I'm pleased to report that my lungs are still in tip-top shape, despite recently recovering from a head/chest cold, and not having run as much as desired lately. At last week's check-up - which was my first since March - I was surprised to see my important number (FEV1) at 90%... a 1% increase from earlier in the year, and my highest since '09.

The lack of running was due primarily to a weeklong vacation in Costa Rica with Holly. Surpisingly, I had no desire to run while out there, despite the perfect weather. That was the last bit of rest I needed - mentally and physically - because I am now logging miles that I haven't touched since early September. I know I only have 7 weeks to prepare for Rocky Raccoon, but I'm confident in full fitness if I can hold the course I'm on.

This year's race will probably be the most fun out-of-state event I've ever done, just due to the size of the Colorado contingent. From Colorado Springs alone, the following friends will be racing: Marc Pevoteaux (100), Amanda Ewing (50), Sean O'Day (50), Andy Wooten (100), Amy Perez (50), Dan Vega (100), Andy Henshaw (ex-Colorado Springs friend, 50), and yours truly (100). When you include the following crew/pacers - Holly, Lizzie, Eric, Melissa - that ends up being 12 peeps.

I'll try to post a couple more times in the weeks leading up to the race to update everyone on my training progress.

Brooks

2011 Leadville 100: Running Sucks

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.

2011 Winfield (50 Miles): 8:42
2010 Winfield: 8:55
2009 Winfield: 10:02
 
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.
 
2011 Twin Lakes #2 (Mile 60): 11:33
2010 Twin Lakes #2: 11:52
2009 Twin Lakes #2: 13:32

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.

2011 Mayqueen #2 (87 Miles): 17:20
2010 Mayqueen #2: 17:13
2009 Mayqueen #2: 20:00
 
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.

2011 Leadville 100: 21:21.31
2010 Leadville 100: 19:57.52
2009 Leadville 100: 23:21.27

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.
 
Until next year...

2011 Leadville 100 Entrants (Predictions Forthcoming)

Within 5 minutes of originally posting this and stating the entrants list had not been issued, I discovered the list is actually up...
That being the case, I've listed the names that I would say are contenders for top-10 overall.

It's always fun to size up the competition beforehand, and I want to know your opinions/guesses, too. If I'm missing anyone, I'll add them to the pool and once we get enough names and time guesses, I'll shoot out my top-10 prediction.

In no particular order:

• Ryan Burch (Overdue for a killer 100 miler performance.)
• Duncan Callahan (2 time LT100 winner, but not on list... hmmm.)
• Dylan Bowman (Top-3 last year.)
• Brendan Tremboli (First 100-miler.)
• Dan Vega (2nd to Carpenter in 2005.)
• Harry Harcrow (Numerous top-10's at Leadville.)
• Neal Gorman (Top-5 last year.)
• Patrick Garcia (First 100-miler.)
• Tim Parr (2009 LT100 winner.)
• Marco Peinado (Lives in Leadville. Overdue for a strong 100 finish.)
• Ryan Sandes (Apparently runs with the big dogs overseas.)
• Michael Arnstein (Fast on flatter terrain. Just won the Vermont 100.)
• Lynette Clemons (3rd fastest womens time ever in 2009.)
• Brian Fischer (Has broken 20 hours at Leadville before.)
• Bob Africa (Looks strong from his past results.)
• Zach Crandall (2011 Leadville Marathon winner.)
• Jeff Browning (Numerous 100 mile victories.)
• Allen Belshaw (Has a nice resume with a handful of race victories thrown in.)
• John Anderson (Fast Boulder guy.)
• Tim Long (Strong and consistent. Been personally beaten by him before.)
• Dan Barger (Top-10 at WS100 this year at age 45.)
• Oz Pearlman (Really fast 50 mile guy.)
• Bob Sweeney (Ultrarunning veteran.)
• Me (Broke 20 hours last year.)

Help me out! Fire away...

Surviving White River

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: