2012 Rocky Raccoon Predictions

(1/30/12 - THIS JUST IN: Hal Koerner is now on the entrants list!)

The taper is on!
With nothing to do this week but geek out about running while not actually doing any running, I'll post my prediction for next weekends big race. This year's field is by far, much less competitive than 2011, with a couple notable exceptions, aka Ian Sharman (RR100 record holder), Karl Meltzer (Mr. Hardrock), and Oswaldo Lopez (2011 Badwater winner).

While fully expecting these guys to decimate the rest of the competition, it still puts me in a position to potentially snag my first top-10 finish at a 100 miler. For whatever reason, I have had relative success at the 50 mile distance, but these 100's still escape me.

With cautious optimism, here's how I predict the race unfolding:

1. Ian Sharman; for obvious reasons. Predicted time: 13:12
2. HAL KOERNER; last minute entrant and my obvious 2nd place choice. Predicted time: 13:24
3. Karl Meltzer; he's a machine with more 100 mile experience than anyone else in the field. Predicted time: 14:14
4. Oswaldo Lopez; not too familiar with this guy, but looking at past race times, I could see him running sub-15. Predicted time: 14:55
5. Dan Vega; he beat Karl at a fast 100 miler last spring in 15:35. I think he'll be a little quicker here. Predicted time: 15:20
6. Liza Howard; I see her continuing her streak of improved 100 miler times. Predicted time: 15:25.
7. Tony Clark; he's run sub-17 before, so I expect him to do it again. Predicted time: 15:50
8. Brooks Williams; without any other names jumping out at me, I see a spot with my name on it. Predicted time: 16:31
9. From here on, it's a crap-shoot...
10. ---

Who'd I miss?!

Brooks

Ponderous Posterior Pikes Peak 50k

Yesterday was the final 'race' of the Colorado Fat Ass 50k series, which comprised of three informal events across the Front Range: Boulder in November, Ft. Collins in December, and Colorado Springs in January.

The field for these informal races would make any race director jealous, with Scott Jurek, Matt Carpenter, Tony Krupicka, Scott Jaime, Justin Ricks, Joe Grant, JT and yours truly all running. Despite not being prepared to run an ultra-distance event just two weeks into the new year, and nearly equalling my year-to-date mileage in one run, I was NOT about to miss the opportunity to run with these guys.

The course was a 'best-of' collection of our local trails which provided a treat for people unfamiliar with the area and locals alike. There was an abundance of single-track, fresh powder, gnarly climbs and descents, beautiful views of Pikes Peak, and thousands of feet of elevation gain/loss. For those of you familiar with the trail network around Colorado Springs, we hit the following: Garden of the Gods, Rampart Range Road, Williams Canyon, Waldo Canyon, Longs Ranch Road, Barr Trail, Intemann Trail, and Red Rock Canyon. In close to 32 miles there was less than 3 miles of running on pavement.

I had the privilege of meeting and running with a new friend, Patrick Garcia, for most of the day. He and I were both in less than peak condition, so we really had no interest in pushing the pace and tearing our bodies down too much. With several stops, including the PBR aid at mile 30, we were out there for about 6:35.

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves:

(Pikes Peak as seen from the top of Waldo Canyon.)

(A long and snowy 2000ft climb up Longs Ranch Road.)

   

(Pit stop at No Name Creek on Barr Trail.)

(Patrick and I showing off our sweet winter running moves.)

 (PBR can hit a guy quickly afer 6 hours of running!)

(The final climb out of Red Rock Canyon.) 

(This guy kept CLAIMING to be Scott Jurek. I don't buy it.)

It was a perfect January day for a long trek in the mountains with some cool and talented people and just the kick in the 'posterior' I needed to get back to training for the 2011 race season!

Running and Rabid Rodents

Running:
So after my much needed 3 week hiatus from running, I got back on the horse on January 1st with the annual 'Hangover Run'... I mean Rescue Run 10k. This was the second consecutive year that my friend James and I were late to the race start, but unlike last year where we arrived maybe 5 minutes after the gun went off, we were a good 12 minutes behind schedule this year which made it too late to for me to officially register. But hey, I hadn't planned my outfit and decked myself out in snowboard/running attire for nothing, so I still went out and put in the miles.

Since then I have run every day of this cold new year, which puts my streak at 10 days as I write this. While I have no specific longevity goals for this streak, I also have no intentions of breaking it unless my body forces me to do so (ie: injury). Consistency and higher mileage will be the name of the game this year in hopes of a sub-2:47 marathon at Boston and a top-5 at the Leadville 100.

Oh, and I almost forgot... I'm in the 'What it Takes' section of the February 2011 Runners World.

Rabid Rodents:
Okay, so there is actually only one rodent in this video - a squirrel - but you won't be disappointed. While this video has potential to go viral on YouTube if I put techno music in the background, it's still pretty funny as it is. I rarely run with my phone, but last Saturday was thankfully one of those occasions.

Here's the scenario: I was two hours into my long run, and I'd just gotten off the snowy trails and hit the road behind Bear Creek Park to run home on surface streets when I encountered the squirrel in the videos below. I recommend watching BOTH videos, even if only for the entertainment value of the of the hill-billy comments the local resident provides in the background.
(I especially like "Who knows what happens when you get hit by a car?", and "He must have some sort of brain damage.")

Video #1. 'My Discovery':

Video #2. 'Squirrel and Stick':

Brooks

2010 Deadman Peaks Adventure

There's something very appealing to me about taking solo road trips to races without much advance planning. I really thrive off the excitement of the unknown, the time alone with my thoughts, and the fact that I'm almost guaranteed to have a great story in the end. So like a moth to a flame, I gladly embark on these adventures and this past weekend's escapade in Cuba, New Mexico didn't disappoint...

Q: "Where is Cuba?"
A: Dead-smack in the middle of nowhere.

I hit the road late Friday morning to embark on the 6+ hour drive. En route I encountered snow going over La Veta pass in Colorado, sun and blue skies down the Taos, NM corridor, and finally, rain, sleet and cold temperatures in the high desert in, and around Cuba. Other highlights included the purchase of an authentic Mexican poncho in Taos, and my getting lost near Espanola and nearly running out of gas as I approached my destination.

Q: "What is the town like?"
A: A much crappier version of Fruita, CO or Moab, UT.

I arrived in town around 4:30 pm and decided I'd be better off snagging a motel room rather than sleeping in the front seat of my car. This was primarily because of the cold temps, not so much for comfort reasons. Choosing was a breeze as there were only two motels in town and I picked the first one I saw out of convenience. The Frontier Motel had a vacancy... I wonder why?

In addition to the selling points I mention in the video, the room smelled like urine. I didn't dare walk around without socks since the floor was damp for some reason (urine?), and neither did I pull back the covers on the bed. Instead I slept on top in my sleeping bag. This place was so nice, that while laying in bed watching TV, the shroud on the fan fell off bounced off the bed and rolled halfway across the room. It wasn't even on when this happened. No joke:

Q: "Why would you go there?"
A: Good question. For me, to run 50+ miles on the CDT at the 2010 Deadman Peaks Trail Run.

It was chilly in the pre-dawn hours as it had been drizzling all night, thus I was staying warm in my car taking care of my last minute gear checks when I noticed people running. Lots of them. Apparently my watch was off and I missed the race start. What a good way to get things rolling!

Within 1-2 minutes I was in hot pursuit of the headlamps ahead of me, and within a couple miles I was running with the leaders. Since it was overcast the nearly full-moon didn't help illuminate the way so the early pace was slow due to the constant cairn searching with our headlamp beams. Since the entire race was on the Continental Divide Trail the course was marked with fequent rock cairns, painted wooden posts and the RD had placed the occasional orange flag in critical areas.

Until mile 7-ish, I alternated turns leading the group of 4 that had gotten out ahead of the main pack. At this point I regrettably took my obligatory pit stop in the bushes. I say regrettably, not because of the 2 minutes or so the bathroom break cost me, but rather because of the 10 minutes I lost by getting off course as soon as I resumed running.
Since we had been running on the high mesa for a couple of miles on a defined double-track trail, I didn't anticipate the course taking us right of the edge of the cliff, so when the flags pointed that way I chose to keep going straight on the trail. It wasn't until I hadn't seen a trail marker or another runner for 5+ minutes that I decided to backtrack, finally discovering the trail DID go right off the edge of the mesa shelf and down a steep technical descent for several hundred feet.

I was infuriated when I realized I had lost quite a bit of time and a few positions, but I had nobody to blame but myself. After calming down and getting back into stride, I was supremely motivated to play hunter and catch back up to the leaders.

Around mile 17 I finally started catching glimpses of the runner who was currently in 2nd place, named Leif. After about a mile of playing pursuer on the tecnical terrain, I made my pass into what would end up being my final finishing position.

The course took us in, out, and through sandy canyons, slickrock shelves, high-mesa's and chapparal filled clearings on technical terrain. During a steep descent around mile 12, I had my only flirt with disaster when I stubbed my toe on a rock while in full stride. Only wearing 7oz shoes has its advantages, but toe protection is not one of them. Because of the sheer force with which I struck my foot and searing pain that followed, I was led me to believe I might have broken a toe... after the socks and shoes came off, my theory was confirmed.

Anyway, I'm not complaining, as this is all part of the sport. I kept moving as hard and fast as I could without depleting all my reserves, fully expecting to see the race leader Tim Long around the next bend. By the time I reached the mile 21 (more like 23) aid station I discovered I was about 4 minutes behind Tim. This was reassuring as I now knew I had been gaining on him.

Just before arriving at the mile 27 turn-around, I finally crossed paths with Tim for what would be the last time until the finish. His lead was still only 4 minutes so I was now ready to go for the kill and reel him in... or so I thought. I gave the next miles my hardest effort, but in doing so I realized that my legs where quickly turning to lead from the early push to catch up. I began walking the steep ascents at this point. By the time I reached the next aid station, I found out Tim had put 5 minutes on me in as many miles. Still, with only a 9 minute lead and 23 miles to go, I didn't completely rule out the possibily of catching him.

Eventually, around mile 35, my right hamstring began to cramp badly and this remained the standard for the rest of the race. Because of this, I had to begin walking the steeper climbs and just running the flats and downhills. I let my thoughts of winning go away at this point and then focused on CFM, or continuous forward motion. I was determined to hold on to second place if nothing else.

I eventually did reach the finish in 2nd place in 9:26.xx. (54 miles).

It had been overcast, cold, and at times drizzling throughout the day, but within 10 minutes of finishing the floodgates of heaven opened up, and I decided to hit the road rather than risk being murdered at the Frontier Motel for a second consecutive night.

To top it all off, I was pulled over in Walsenburg for having a headlight out, but the officer clearly could tell I was already beat down enough for one day and let me go with a warning. Talk about a long day. In the end, I'd been up since 4:00am, run for 9+ hours, and had driven for 6 more.

So another one is officially in the books and now it's time to get serious about training for San Fran in December!

Brooks

2010 Blue Canyon 50 Mile Trail Race

(Updated 6/20/10: I've added a few more photos, all courtesy of Thuy Greer, who was working the mile 17/37 aid station. Thanks! More to follow in the next day or two...)

One of the amazing things that draws me to ultra-distance races, above and beyond the health benefits, is that regardless of what place you finish, there is a unique, challenging, painful, emotionally draining adventure and corresponding story that unfolds in the hours between the start and (hopefully) the finish. Last Saturday's Blue Canyon 50 Miler in CA was the epitome of this.

As I previously posted, I claimed my first race victory by winning in 11:02.00, but this isn't the primary reason this race was so rewarding and memorable. Additionally, there is good reason for such a slow winning time. Allow me to elaborate...

The whole decision to enter came about spontaneously and very last minute when my friend Andy Henshaw (the 100k race winner the past 2 years) was able to get me a complimentary entry (thanks to the RD, Robert Gilcrest) to the event as long as I was able to book a flight in time. This all happened on Tuesday evening with me scheduling a Friday morning flight to Santa Barbara. Another cool piece of the puzzle came together when, despite the short notice, my uncle from Dana Point decided he was overdue for a last minute weekend getaway, and made the drive north to come witness the carnage. Having never witnessed an ultra before, he would be in for a shocker on Saturday!

Race morning came around and those of us running either the 50 miler or the 50k had what we thought was the luxury of a 7:00am race start. The 100k runners on the other hand, were sent off into the dark at 4:30am. With temps only forecast to hit the low 90's this didn't seem like a big deal at the time, but in hindsight, having temps that reached at least 103 degrees, I would have killed for the 4-ish start. This was the only criticism I had for Robert after the event.

Anyway, after the official start we were immediately met with the steepest climb of the day (total gain for the day would end up being in excess of 14,000 ft):

The mileage isn't shown in the above course profile but this initial climb is covered in barely over 3 miles. While not easy by any means, I was stoked when I reached the summit having run every step except for when I needed a GU or salt. So far, so good. After a nice, gradual descent down a jeep road I arrived at the first aid station (mile 6.3) in 1:05.

(Mile 13. Photo courtesy of Kevin Steele)

At this point I was ahead of all but two runners, and it was at this aid station that it was confirmed that they were running the 50k distance which meant I was officially leading! Receiving this bit of good news I now had renewed energy to tackle the second big climb of the day.

This climb was not quite as steep as the first but definitely lasted longer. This is partially due to it being the longest stretch between aid stations, at 6.8 miles. It was while running in unshaded areas on this climb that I first noticed how hot it already was outside. It was about 9:00am and it's safe to say temps were already in the mid to upper 80's! (Concerns about what temps 3:00 in the afternoon would bring were now lingering in the back of my mind...) Anyway, I arrived at the Angustoro Pass aid station around 2hr and 20min in. This is where I took my first full refuel, dunked the bandana in some ice water, and hit downhill #2.

Being all downhill on a jeep road again, it only took about 38 minutes to cover the 4.6 miles to the next aid station (mile 17+/-), but during this descent I began to notice hot spots on my feet for the first time, and start to feel knee pain from the descending. At the aid station I decided that since I was well hydrated I'd take 400mg of ibuprofen to reduce the inflammation in my knees. From here the aid station workers said it was 4 miles to an unmanned water station and then another 4 until the next manned aid station. Status: 1st place still with NO signs of any runners behind me. In fact, I was only about 6 minutes behind the two 50k leaders!

(Mile 17. Photos courtesy of Thuy Greer)

Here I'm going to break away from the monotony of a verbatim play-by-play and fast forward to the memorable events a little further ahead in the day:

I found almost all of the terrain over the next 8+ miles to be very runnable, BUT despite topping off my water at every oportunity, I found myself running out between aid stations since my sweat level was soooo much higher than I'd ever experienced. It was now officially blast-furnace hot! In hindsight, I think carrying a hydration pack would have worked better than just two 20oz handhelds. As an example, due to the mid-day temps at the turnaround, it took me an hour to go 4 miles from the last aid station to the turnaround and back, and only 35 minutes to completely deplete my water supply!

Something else that attests to the impact of the extreme heat (skipping ahead a little here), was that this 27+ mile split to the turnaround took me 5 hours.... whereas the next 22+ took me over 6!

The pattern of the day for those next grueling hours: Hit an aid station. Proceed to slam down gels and salt like it's my job. Drink as much as possible and top off my water bottles. Leave aid station running. Run out of water in 30 minutes. Begin walking. Suffer for 45 with no water and thus no ability to run. Repeat.

(Coming into and leaving aid station at mile 37. Photos courtesy of Thuy Greer)

Whenever I would try to run with no fluids, I found myself overheating almost immediately and getting dizzy/disoriented/clumsy. Knowing that I was probably dehydrated AND extremely low on salt, I at least had the presence of mind to just walk and try to keep my core temps as low as possible. This was the pattern for the last 14 miles. The peak of suffering came at about mile 44. No water, lots of ups and downs on the course, and no aid station within sight. The way I was stumbling around at this point led me to become legitimately scared of losing consciousness. I began to pick my footing VERY carefully, thinking that if I passed out I at least didn't want to hit my head on a huge rock or fall down a ravine (been there, done that, not fun)! Side note: It's amazing how extreme levels of mental and pysical anguish cause you to change your priorities. I went from being psyched that I was leading a race for the first time, to not even caring if I won or even finished for that matter. I just wanted the suffering to stop...

Just past this low point, I stumbled across a slow moving stream and despite knowing that giardia was a real possibility if I drank the water, it was a no-brainer that I had to drink or I wouldn't make it to the next aid station... and drink I did! I must have chugged close to two bottles of water right there and taken 10 salt tablets. It was amazing how quickly this caused me to become lucid again. While I still was miserable, I no longer felt I was in danger of severe injury.

On this home stretch before the last aid station (which marked 2 miles to go) I came across a couple of women walking the course to check on runners. After a brief recap of my condition, I had a volunteer who was willing to run the last 2 miles with me just to make sure I didn't lose consciousness. We were able to bomb into the finish since it was almost entirely downhill from here. THANKS GRETCHEN!! I was pretty worried before running into her, but after she joined I had not only someone to look after me, but someone to talk to and get my mind off the pain, and this did wonders!

Finally the finish line showed itself! Water bottles were thrown aside, a barrel roll on the grass ensued, and I could finally collapse in the shade!

(Crossing the finish. Photo courtesy of Kevin Steele)

Final time: 11:02.00
(In the end only 3 other runners finished the 50 mile distance and two of them were runners that dropped down from the 100k. My margin of victory was over 2 hours and 40 minutes.)

(Photo courtesy of Kevin Steele)

In the above picture, I had just finished and Gretchen was helping me with my waist belt... look at how much salt is soaked into my shorts; even for me this was a TON! I again need to thank my doctor and dietician at National Jewish Hospital in Denver, for helping me figure out my salt intake issues last summer. Without them, I can safely say a race like Blue Canyon would have put me in the ER or killed me.

In ultra running the saying truly applies: 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'

Saturday's race didn't kill me, so I guess a thank you is in order to both mother nature and the Blue Canyon race course!

I would highly recommend either the Blue Canyon races or the upcoming DRTE 100 Miler (same start/finish, different course) to those who are looking for a HARD, HARD ultra. Check them both out at the Blacksmith Endurance website: http://www.blacksmithendurance.com/bluecanyon/

With less than a month until Hardrock I am supremely confident in my ability to rise to the challenge...  it's now time to keep the body in one piece and focus on high altitude training!

Brooks

(Here's a cool track I just stumbled across... it's instrumental, but awesome none the less. Could be a good running tune. Enjoy.)