Cascade Crest Classic 100 Mile Endurance Run

I tried coming up with a clever title for this entry. I was going to go with "All things brutal wrapped in a bow of awesome". Or perhaps "Hallucinations, Indecision, Pain and Awesome". Perhaps just "Holy Crap what did I just do?" All seemed equal parts over the top and insufficient in conveying what occurred last weekend when I toed the line with 140 some odd other folks to run the annual Cascade Crest 100 mile endurance run. So we will just go with a self titled entry...you can draw your own conclusions on how crazy these events are. Me? I'm just writing this in an attempt to collect my thoughts and commit them to electronic signals and bits before my brain purges them in preparation for my next race.

Honestly I'm not exactly sure where to start. This was a burly race. 100 miles on it's own seems a daunting enough task, but throw in mountains, a little heat, some crazy dude shooting his firearm 50 yards off the PCT and sleep deprivation and you end up with something that is a little less of a run and a little more epic. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it a lot. There were probably instantaneous moments where I hated it and there were definitely other points where I wanted to quit. My sub 24 hour goal will have to wait for another day as I missed it by a significant amount, finishing 40th out of 90 some odd finishers and 140 starters in 27:19:41.

Twenty Seven Hours, Nineteen Minutes and Forty-one seconds. Maybe that should have been the title of this post...

My training up to the race went well. Four weeks prior I PR'ed at the White River 50 Mile out near Mt. Rainier. A week after that I ran 62 miles of the cascade crest 100 course split across two days in near 100 degree heat. At that point I felt like somebody had shoved me in an industrial strength drier and set the timer to infinity. I was hot, beat up, tired and just wanted to rest. So rest I did....at least for a few days. Then I felt like I wanted to get out into the mountains again. For some reason I also felt like I needed to do more heat training. (Apparently the weekend double fried my brain) Work also decided to send me to boulder at the worst possible time...a week and a half before my big race. In any event...I still took it a little easy, but not in terms of elevation gain. I had planned on doing some very limited hill running in the two weeks prior to cascade. Instead I ran up granite mountain with Josh, took part in a group run in Boulder, ran solo up green mountain and did a little urban peak bagging back in Seattle for a weekly elevation total of around 10K. I'm still not sure if that helped or hurt my performance at Cascade Crest...but I don't really care. It was fun.

Fast forward to the day before the race. I was surrounded by about 8,000 calories of sugar in the forms of Gu, Cliff Shots, Shot Blocks, Honey Stingers, and other forms of Maltodextrin. The child in me thought the 24 hours of gorging myself on nothing but sugar would be great...but the adult just wanted some whole grain un-frosted mini-wheats. Packing ensued, a pre-race dinner of taco time (Probably a mistake) was had, and my wife and crew unpacked camp and settled in for the evening up at Lake Easton state park. I didn't sleep all that well. Nerves coupled with the constant drone of semis on I90 had me awake well into the night. Pippa also got a little cold so Brandi and I took turns letting her sleep with us in our sleeping bags. That dog is a little ball of heat. It felt like I was being cuddled to death by a bundle of firewood.

Before

 Morning came, I awoke, dressed in the running clothes I would most likely be wearing for the next 24+ hours, threw my drop bags into the car and made my way with wife and dog to the starting area at the Easton Fire Department. Once there we partook in the tasty pancake breakfast that the fire department prepared along with the help of some of the race volunteers. One of the race volunteers floated over to our section and asked us how our preparation was going. I said it was going well and noticed the giant CCC100 belt buckle the dude had on. Moments of envy set in followed by a long period of satisfaction, I was comforted by the idea that I too would be able to sport an audacious belt buckle once I crossed the finish line the following morning. (Turned out to be afternoon)






A fellow runner that I met up during my Alaska Running Vacation was also set to run the CCC. He and his family actually shared a camp site with us the night before and we chatted about what we thought of the upcoming endeavor along with a handful of other non running things. One could call this the calm before the storm I suppose...if you could go so far as to describe a 12 minute mile as a "Storm".

T Minus 5 Minutes

A quick bathroom break, last minute glide application, a Canadian and American national anthem and then before I knew it the race director counted down from 10 and sent us on our way. I settled into what I thought was a fairly comfortable pace but without my GPS I wasn't exactly sure how fast I was going. My thought was that I would let the course and my body dictate my pace...but I think I got a little overzealous during the first 10-15 miles of the course and set myself up for some pain later on in the race. In any event...the start to the first aid went by fairly quick. I reached a truck on the fire road, refilled my water, ate some grapes (This would be a common thing for me for the next 24 hours as grapes always seemed appetizing) and proceeded to hike slowly up the extraordinarily steep section of trail reroute. After finally popping up onto the trail proper things settled into a bit more reasonable grade and I moved consistently at what I thought was a pretty fast hike. Too bad I was getting passed by quite a few fellow racers. It turns out I need to work on that fast hike.

Start

 

Most of the early parts of the race went by without too much of a hitch. I moved forward at a consistent clip, hiking most of the steeper hill sections, breaking into a jog on some of the more gradual grades and flats and took the downhills at a conservative run. I could tell during that first big climb and descent that this wasn't going to be my best day. My legs didn't have much pop and surprisingly the downhills didn't feel all that great. I say that surprised me because I consider myself a halfway decent downhill runner. Not super fast by any means but I can usually move at a nice clip without feeling any discomfort or fatigue. Not so on this day, which got in my head a bit as I kept focusing on how much further I had to go. This was not a good state to be in...100 miles is a long way and I needed to concentrate on getting to the next aid station. Lesson learned I suppose.

Tacoma Pass

 

Still feeling decent at Tacoma Pass

After 22 miles I finally reached my crew at Tacoma Pass. (There were other aid stations along the way but they were not crew accessible) I saw Josh, one of my buddies and pacers, at the previous aid station Blowout mountain. He asked how I was doing and handed me a smoothie. Man that thing tasted good. At Tacoma pass none of the food really stood out but the volunteers were helpful and again seeing my wife and friends was a big bonus. They helped me refill my bottles, grab some additional gels and told me to say "Hi" to my other pacer Danny who was also volunteering before heading out towards the next Crew accessible aid station Stampede Pass, which was approximately 12 miles away.

Stampede Pass

Already tired at Stampede

This section was full of ups and downs...both literally and figuratively. I couldn't find a running groove. The uphills felt like way more work than they should have and the downs, though okay didn't feel all the great either. That left the flats...and they didn't feel all that great either. It was at this point that I seriously started to think about whether or not I had what it took on this day to finish the race. I continued to move forward but negativity had already crept in and I felt at this point that a drop at Hyak was inevitable. These thoughts are poison in these types of endeavors. I should have been focused on problem solving but a handful of things had thrown me off my game and I wasn't sure what I could do to set myself on track again. After crossing the third of a section of fairly sun exposed sections I started to see some stuff on the side of the trail that seemed to indicate stampede pass was approaching. Thankfully it came at the right time. I had reached another pretty serious low and needed to see some friendly faces to pull me out of my funk. My wife and crew greeted me along with some aid station volunteers. I perked up a bit, got some food in me, let my crew know that I was not having a good day and sped off again down the trail. My wife repeated what the race director had said in his briefing, that there was no shame in a DNF, but I wasn't prepared to drop yet. I wanted to see what was left in the tank. I was surprised to find out there was a lot left...and I was going to drop to all new lows before I turned this thing around.

Pippa Napping

 

Pippa was trying to get me to keep going

Ollalie Meadows

The section of the course that follows Stampede pass is gorgeous. I had ran it a few weeks prior and was really looking forward to traveling over it again during the race. You start by meandering your way up through a pretty dense forest, but eventually pop up into a more open area that grants some pretty awesome views into a lake basin. At this point you descend to the basin and then work your way up to Mirror Lake. I was doing okay through all of this, but was still rapidly alternating between wanting to quit and wanting to push on. I was still focused on the enormity of what was to come. To feel bad at mile 35 of a 100 mile race is a pretty daunting thing. Couple that with the fact that I hadn't really seen anybody in an hour and some crazy dude was firing off rounds 50 yards off the trail and you can perhaps see why I wasn't in the greatest state of mind. The sun started to set so I dug through my hydration pack and found my Petzl Nao headlamp. This thing worked like a champ, lighting up the trail like it was midday. (If midday looked like light thrown by some powerful LED's) I finally ran into another runner...or rather they ran into me, coming up and passing me as I relieved myself on the side of the trail. He asked me how I was doing and I explained that I was not doing well and was thinking of dropping. He gave me a pretty nice pep talk and told me to try to keep up with him, to hop on the train so to speak and see if I could perk myself up by running with a fellow racer. I tried, but he was moving better than I was at that point so I resigned myself to falling off the back and slowly made myself through the Meadow Mountain aid to the Ollalie meadows station. Thankfully it was here that my spirits started to perk up.

I think I owe a big part of my finish to Scott McCoubrey's aid station. This was the first station where the volunteers really seemed like they knew what was going on in the racers minds. I was encouraged to sit, eat some awesome peirogi's and was able to vent a little bit about how my body didn't seem to be behaving. The food was great and the conversation helped focus me on the task at hand, get to Hyak and worry about the rest of the race once I got there.

Hyak

 

Revitalized and reinvigorated I cranked my headlamp to high and bounded down the rocky trail to the Snoqualmie tunnel. I passed a lot of people on this section as most of the racers seemed to be cautiously picking their way down the technical trail. I just trusted in my Mountain Masochists and bombed down, tracking down the reflective strips of light that appeared down the trail whenever I saw another runner. Eventually I reached the rope section that leads down to the Snoqualmie Tunnel. This was a fun section, but there was a bit of a traffic jam as it requires some careful navigation down a steep (probably 40+ degree) slope. I wish I had gotten onto the front of our train as I'm pretty sure I could've descended a good 2-3 minutes faster.

Fueling up at Hyak - Photo by Joram Cosning

The tunnel came and went. I actually caught one of my other running buddies Adam Gaston during this section. He was having some stomach issues and was wisely taking a bit of a walking break. He did happen to tell me how to count down the miles to the end of the tunnel, which I was less than thrilled about. (Kidding...it was amusing in a slightly depressing way) I made a point of avoiding looking at any of the numbers on the tunnel walls and just settled into a groove. After what seemed like a long two miles we popped out of the tunnel, jumped onto some pavement for a mile or so and then made our way into the christmas themed aid station. My crew saw me looking pretty up beat and immediately went into helper mode. I should mention at this point that about two hours prior I took out my phone and sent an ominous text to them, mentioning that I was feeling horrible and might drop at Hyak. They were rightly expecting the worse at this point but were hoping that if I hadn't yet turned it around that they would be able to motivate me to keep going.

Lake Kachess

 

Josh hopped in and paced me for the 15 miles between Hyak and Lake Kachess. Along the way we climbed to Kechelus ridge, descended to the lake and had a pretty good time doing it. Josh pushed me to run when it made sense (on the flats and downhills) and even managed to get me to run some of the short gradual uphills. We even managed to pass a few people on the long up and long down. Though not the most interesting section in terms of terrain as we were on fire roads pretty much the entire time, the moon was out and the stars were bright. At one point we turned off our headlamps and were shocked at the fact that we were immediately plunged into darkness. The stars immediately leaped out as our view of the road receded. We couldn't keep the lamps off for long, as navigation on the road was impossible without them, but it definitely put things in perspective. Almost 60 miles into a race I was able to forget about how tired I was because I was pretty much right where I wanted to be. Out in a semi-remote area of the wilderness with a running buddy helping me a long, taking in the sites while slowly marching towards the end game.

We actually popped out of the fire road and ran into the Lake Kachess aid station quite unexpectedly. I was anticipating arriving at 2:30 AM and instead we popped in around 2:00. Danny, my second pacer, had not yet awakened from his catnap. I rudely called him on my phone and woke him up and told him it was time to pace and then sat down and ate a bowl of ramen noodles. Danny showed up jokingly mentioning how it was rude to call a guy up at 2:00 in the morning to go for a run. Well that is what we did...taking off for what would be an exceptionally slow 6 miles to the Mineral Creek aid station.

Trail from Hell

 

Yeah...this next section was actually called the Trail from Hell. I had navigated it during the daylight  on a training run and noted that even with the sun out it took us around an hour and twenty minutes to navigate the 4-5 mile section of the trail. (There is a 1 mile section prior to the official trail from hell that is a bit of a bushwhack...so in some ways it's worse) I figured if we got through it in two hours we would be flying. I won't do a play by play on this but suffice it to say I had some more low points though Danny managed to keep me from flying off the handle. We also ran into a pacer who was watching over his runner while she caught a nap on the side of the trail under a space blanket. After what was an eternity we got to the mineral creek crossing, rock hopped our was across and I sat down at the aid in good spirits but secretly dreading what was to come...a 7 mile climb up to no name ridge followed by the nasty cardiac needles.

Thorp Mountain

Climbing up Thorp - Photo Glen Tachiyama

After taking care of a blister, getting some coffee and eating some cheese quesadillas we set off for the long hike up to no name. About halfway up the sun started rises and pretty much set the sky on fire. Danny reminded me to look up every so often so I could take in the views. Suffice it to say it was probably one of the most fantastic sunrises I've ever seen and I was happy to have a buddy there to share it with. That was just one of the many moments along the course that made the entire trip worthwhile. Sure I was in a fair amount of discomfort at that point, but the positives were still far outweighing the negatives associated with being on your feet for 20 hours. Eventually we reached the No Name aid station at the top of the climb, ate some pancakes, I drank a little hot chocolate and then we said our goodbyes to the aid station volunteers and went on our way.

Photo by Glen Tachiyama

The next section is again a beautiful part of the course and under normal circumstances is a blast to run. It rolls a bit up top, gives you a few descents and then takes you up the first of the Cardiac needles. These are fairly brutal climbs, steep in grade but blessedly short in duration. I think the longest one took us only about 20 minutes to climb...though at times those 20 minutes felt like agony. After each needle I was forced to walk for about 5 minutes in order to get my heart rate back under control, at which point I would attempt to break into what was probably the slowest run imaginable. Eventually we made our way to the thorp aid station, at which point we were instructed to head up to the lookout to get a golden ticket that they basically use to prove that you made the ascent. Glen Tachiyama was waiting for us near the top and snapped off a couple of pretty stellar photos of the quick ascent and descent. After we got back to the aid station I was informed that we had around 3 climbs to go before french cabin aid, and then one final push until the long descent to Silver Springs. The finish was within view...only a half marathon to go....

Descending Thorp - Photo by Glen Tachiyama

Finish

I really wish I had been able to run this section at a decent clip. Prior to the race I had visualized completing the last 13 miles in somewhere between 2 and 3 hours. Unfortunately it ended up taking me somewhere between 3 and 4 hours to finish. The uphills were abysmally slow, the flats weren't much better, and the downhills hurt. I did run...slowly...during sections though Danny my pacer probably has a better idea of how slowly we were moving over this last section. That being said, I did enjoy it. Getting to the top of the last needle, which in this case was the saddle after the french cabin on the Kachess ridge trail was awesome. Even the downhill into the Cabin was nice, especially since we could see the aid station from about a mile out and could track our progress. Another cup of coffee at the cabin, a climb up the saddle, a momentary lapse of reason up top where I didn't think i could finish it out and an excruciatingly awesome downhill on the Kachess ridge trail and we rolled into the silver creek aid station.

Almost there

Joram, Josh and Marc had run out from the finish and were waiting for me there. I unfortunately filled my handheld up with GuBrew, not anticipating how hot it would be. After eating a bit too much we took off from the aid, moving at a pace that I felt I could sustain until the end...probably averaging about 10 minute miles. I was pretty surprised that I was able to run halfway decently on the flats at this point. Here we were 97 miles into a 100 mile race and I was actually able to run.

Holy Crap it's the finish line

Unfortunately I didn't realize how hot it was outside and was completely fried once we hit the exposed power line roads..which then dumped us on the hot asphalt. At this point I was pretty much relegated a walk until the last hundred meters or so to the finish. Brandi walked out a little way with our dog Pippa to say Hi and strolled in along with us. This was okay by me though...I walked the sucker in...jogged across the finish and immediately hunched over with a huge smile on my face. Charlie Crissman, the race director came over, congratulated me and handed me my awesome belt buckle. Post race I moved into the fire station, soaked my feet in a bucket of cold water and chatted with my wife, friends and several other finishers. My friend Bryan, who had finished a little over 5 hours before me, was there as well and we chatted for a bit before he took off in search of a burger, beer and a nap. Shortly thereafter we packed up the dog, drop bags, and my slightly sore body and drove back to Seattle.

Is it over?

Happy Pippa...and look at that belt buckle!

Much needed Soak

Post race was quite interesting. I took a nap, ate some burgers and rested. The night after the race my muscles, joints and tendons protested pretty heavily and didn't let me get a very restful sleep. I was shocked however as my muscles didn't feel like they had been put through a meat grinder. Some tendons in my right foot were a little strained and as such I made it a point to take a week completely off from running. One week later though and I'm ready to go.

I think there were quite a few lessons learned in this endeavor that I will be sure to apply to my next 100 mile adventure. So in true interwebs fashion I've created this handy dandy list...because there just aren't enough lists out there.

• Run the race that you are capable of on that day. I went out a little too fast thinking that my body would start behaving later on in the race. That was dumb. 

• If your stomach is okay keep forcing yourself to eat. I became apathetic towards eating later in the race. My stomach was fine...I was just sick of eating. I didn't think it was possible...but apparently 6,000 calories of Maltodextrin, Potato Chips, Fruit, GuBrew, Quesadillas, Pierogis, Coffee and various other foods can make you a little sick of eating. 

• Ratchet back on the training a bit in the week or two prior to the race. I had a bit too much fun the weeks prior. 

• Hike more during training. I just couldn't hike as fast as a lot of the other folks out there. I'm pretty sure I could shave a couple hours on my time by just becoming a bit better at efficiently moving up mountains.

• Don't underestimate how much is left in the tank late in the race. I was pretty paranoid that I would blow up before I reached the finish...and as such I think I held back a little to much. Towards the end I should have just let it rip...especially in the last 13 miles. Mentally I just wasn't there this time...next time though I think I'll be able to push it a lot harder.

• Last but not least...keep a hold of a positive attitude. My low points coincided with a slow decline in my mental state. By that I mean that my mood took a nose dive before my body did. I think I can manage these lows a lot better in the future.

A big thanks again to everybody that helped get me to the finish. My friends that helped crew and pace and my wife for not only helping while out on the course, but also encouraging me at home during the last 8 months of training. (First for the 50k season, then Miwok, and then this) I'm already looking forward to next years Hundred mile adventure! Now it's time to go for a run.

People eat and drink a lot over 100 miles

Pippa and a new friend

My B taking pictures of Bee's

This picture does not do the sunrise justice

White River 50 II - The Runner Strikes Back

There is something disturbing about the title of this post. If you haven't already guessed I've reached into nerd-lore and ripped the title off Irvin Kirshner's Sci Fi masterpiece "The Empire Strikes Back". George Lucas doesn't get the nod for this one mainly because he is a crappy director and rightfully handed control over to somebody vastly superior to himself.  In said film the bad guys get the upper hand and we end up having to wait for the third film to see the good guys victorious triumph over the evil empire. So to sum up, in the first movie the good guys win, the second movie the bad guys win, and the third movie ends with what is essentially a repeat of the first with the good guys blowing up some empire folks. So if that's the format my running is going to follow...next year White River is going to destroy me. Lets hope that I follow a different pattern...perhaps Loss, Win, Win. By win I do not mean to convey that I won the race...the victory belongs to Sage Canaday who crushed it in 6:16. (A cool 3 hours faster than me) By win I mean I had a great day and drastically improved my time. 

In any event, as can probably be deduced from the above paragraph this past weekend I ran the White River 50 miler for the second time. I use that term loosely mainly because the first time I ran it the course kicked my butt and I was relegated to what amounted to a death march for the last 22 miles. This year things went much better; I ended up running all the flats, downhills and probably 65-70% of the hills. The rest was done at what ultrarunners like to call "power hiking" because normal hiking just isn't cool enough for us.

I was out on course for 9 hours and 21 minutes, finishing over two hours faster than last year. I guess that's what happens when you train a lot harder and end up running a majority of the course. Final Garmin upload had the elevation gain between 10 and 11 thousand feet, though the race website claims it's "only" 9200. To do a play by play would essentially be a repeat of what I posted last year, with some marginally more light hearted observations about how I was feeling at any particular point in time. Suffice it to say I only had one real bad spot, which occurred on the climb up to Sun Top between miles 33 and 37, and didn't last nearly as long as my extremely horrible patch the year prior. After that the 13 miles to the finish hurt, but was almost all runnable.

Just like last year I ended up running this one with my buddy Danny. Unlike last year however however he managed to rope another of his buddies into the Ultra Scene and our new training partner Josh made his 50 mile debut with a solid finish in 9:34. Danny as expected came in first amongst us three in 9:14. I'm pretty happy though in that he only beat me by 7 minutes this year which is vastly different than the near two hours he waited for me to finish last year. So awesome run by all! Now on to this beast...

http://cascadecrest100.com/


T-Minus 18 days. Thankfully Josh and Danny will be helping pace me for the last 50 miles. I also have a bunch of other buddies (and my lovely wife) that will be assisting throughout the day, mostly by providing some much needed mental support...though I may ask them to bring some essentials to a few of the aid stations. Like a new pair of legs at about the 68 mile mark....

Running Vacation

Panorama of one of the many ridges. This sums up the views nicely.

 

Many people probably wouldn't choose to associate those two words together. Running oftentimes is looked at as punishment, or something that is a simply a means to and end not necessarily a means unto itself. You run because you want to get in shape. You run because you stole something. You run because there is a zombie chasing you. You don't run just for fun right? And you certainly don't take a vacation simply to run around the Mountain's in Juneau, Alaska. Well I did this, along with a few other like minded individuals and it was awesome.

This situation warrants some running

 
We were reminded by the host, one of Ultrarunnings current top athletes Geoff Roes, that we would need to keep an open mind about what we considered trail running. The mountains around Juneau are incredibly steep, and oftentimes we were left moving up terrain that simply wasn't runnable for all but the most superhuman of athletes. This was perfectly fine to me. When the terrain gets to steep, you hike fast. Trail running is less about running every step and more about moving as quickly as you can over the terrain that you've chosen.

Runnable?

 And wow did we move slow in parts. Hiking straight up snowfields does not lend itself to 12 minute miles, or 15 minutes miles....or 25 minute miles for that matter. Kick stepping up a mountain is awesome. Every step matters. Foot placement is key. You are focused on not slipping and more importantly...you get to run down the steep terrain after reaching the top.

Steep Ascent

We spent 5 days running around the mountains of Juneau enjoying the varied terrain. From the steep, rugged "Hawthorne Trail" to the flat and fast Herbert Glacier. On the final day we played around Perserverance and Mount Juno, each taking a slightly different approach to hammering out our last run of the vacation. Some took it easy, others blazed ahead and enjoyed a standing glissade down Granite Basin...which ended in several hilarious face plants. Others still pushed on up to Juneau Ridge and had a pretty epic adventure in the white-out above tree line. When we weren't running we were chatting with our fellow campers and our hosts, Corle' LaForce and Geoff Roes. We stayed in a picturesque cabin and were fed tasty meals.

Running up was fun...running down was awesome.

In the end though, the camp was about what most camps are about. Enjoying time with people that you probably wouldn't have met otherwise. I'm continually surprised by how grounded everybody seems to be in the trail running community. The elite athletes are elite in that they are fast, but they are not elite in the sense that they won't mix it up with mere mortals. I've never gotten a sense that any elite trail runner (Ultra or Shorter Distance) has bought into any of their celebrity. In the end we are all runners but more importantly it seems we all seem to be genuinely good, happy individuals who share a common interest and a love for the outdoors. Apologies for the sappy nature of this entry for those few of you that may be reading this. I just want to hammer home the fact that this was a pretty special event and I look forward to attending it again next year.

For those of you that may be interested, the website for the running camps is http://www.akultracamp.blogspot.com/ . There is one more session coming up in early August of this year. If you are looking to be outdoors for 4-5 hours a day running around the surrounding areas of Juno, and like being fed tasty meals I would highly recommend signing up for the camp!

For those of you that read this and you are still on the fence about running I would suggest trying to Trail Running. It's more like hiking....only better because you get to cover more ground and don't have to carry as much gear. It may also boost your ego....passing hikers is fun.

Marmot Hole

Bottom of Icy Gulch

Lost?

Herbert Glacier

Tracks out to one of the peaks

Running up the board walks to Muir Cabin

Geoff Showing us his Playground

Juneau Mountain Trail

10 Glorious Hours

I'm not quite sure most people would use those three words together to describe a run. After looking at it a few times I'm starting to think I understand why my wife and several other people think I'm a little crazy. (But not nearly as crazy as many other ultrarunners) This past Saturday I started and finished The North Face Endurance Challenge 50 Mile race in the Marin Headlands. It was fantastic. It was Awesome. I ran about as well as I could've over the course and ended up finishing in the top half of the field. (Probably just in the top half though...) At no moment did I experience a real low point. I managed to stay pretty well hydrated, kept up on my food intake and also on my electrolytes. Given that this was my second 50 miler ever I was actually completely shocked that this occurred. I was expecting to be a cramped mess throughout the race...but the cramps never came. Sure there was pain...but it was a welcome pain. It was manageable. Suffice it to say this was probably the most fun I've had on a run...ever. I look forward to replicating this many times over in the decades ahead. (Yes Decades...I plan to be running when I'm in my 80's)

I won't delve too much into the play by play. Instead I'll just provide a few stats on the race...provide a list of some highlights and then wrap it up for the year.

Course Statistics
Where: Marin Headlands
Max Elevation: 1800 Feet
Minimum Elevation: 0 Feet
Total Elevation Gain: 10,059 Feet
Total Mileage: 51.2 Miles
My Finishing Time: 10:15:35
My Average Pace:  12:01 min/mile
Winning Time: 6:19:00
Winning Pace:  7:24

Still smiling...40+ miles in

You are not reading that wrong...Mike Wolfe ran this freaking thing in 6 hours and 19 minutes, absolutely crushing the course and just about every other elite running it. He and Dakota Jones (A 21 year old phenom) battled it out all the way to the last climb where Wolfe finally pulled away for good. These guys are incredible. I'm not intentionally trying to belittle myself here but what they do makes my accomplishment of just finishing pale in comparison. The elites prove that running 50 miles is not as crazy as people would think. If a pro athlete can go out and run a marathon in 2:03 then an average Joe ought to be able to run one in 3:00 given dedication, will and training. That's how I look at these now....with more training I should be able to run 50 miles in under 9 hours. One of next year's goal has been set...now lets see if I can follow through on it.

Race Highlights:

• Seeing a train of runners headlamps snaking up the initial ascent at 5:00 AM.
• Sunrise over the golden gate and San Francisco. I wish I had a camera on me but I doubt I would've been able to capture how awesome this was.
• Sharing the coastal trail (and all the trails for that matter) with 300 other like minded individuals.
• Making it to the top of the first big climb and thinking "Wait is that it?" Honestly...for some reason I expected that first big climb to be a killer...I pretty much just waltzed up it. (Slowly)
• Bombing down the Dipsea Trail...then stuffing my face full of food and powerhiking/running back up it.
• Passing all the hikers while I was bombing downhill to Muir Woods. I was 34 miles into a race and felt fantastic. 
• Absolutely nailing my race day nutrition. I basically ate solid food at each aid station, sticking mainly with PBJ, Oranges, Bananas and a few cookies while supplementing with a gel or two in between stations. I also took an electrolyte tablet every hour and 20 minutes. The chicken broth I drank at a couple stations probably helped too. 
• Finishing up with an average pace of 7:50 over the last 3 miles.

Hopefully I'll be running this again in May

I liked this race so much that I threw my name in the hat for the Miwok 100K (62 miles) in May. Not sure if I'll get in but if I do it should be another fantastic run out in the headlands. If not than I'm sure I'll find something else to run. Next year's season is looking like it'll be pretty spectacular. It starts pretty soon too...first race is February 4th so I don't really get a whole lot of downtime here. That's fine though...I'm already itching to get out on the trails.

First I should brew a batch of beer though...I still haven't gotten around to writing that first beer entry...

Here are a few pictures we took the monday after the Race. I wanted to show Brandi the headlands so we drove out and retraced some of the race. 

Heading out to Muir beach, thankfully this sand was not part of the race

Me recreating the race atmosphere for Brandi

Somehow I figured out how to levitate

Looking down the coast...rad views

Playing around with the panorama mode

I was still hungry so I decided to eat a jelly fish



Recovery Beer



TNF Endurance Challenge - Imminent Awesomeness...and Pain

It did not take me long to sign up for my second 50 mile race. Shortly after the White River 50M in late July I decided that I wanted to take on a second 50 mile race before the end of the year. Having already signed up for the Portland Marathon and the Defiance 50K in October a late November or December race was pretty much a requirement. It turns out there aren't a whole lot of 50 mile races in the Pacific Northwest in the fall and winter due to our weather degenerating into complete garbage. Thankfully work decided to send me to San Francisco the week after Thanksgiving which put me in prime position to run The North Face Endurance Challenge in the Marin Headlands this coming Saturday, December 3rd.

This course is going to be a bit of a beast. No incredibly long climbs like in white river (Which only has two...both around 4K feet of gain) but the course is pretty much always going either up or down a hill. With upwards of 11,000 feet of total gain this will be the most I've ever taken on in a single day. I'm optimistic though as these hills are more in line with what I'm used to training on, 1-3 miles of uphill followed by 1-3 miles of downhill. That coupled with my vast experience at this distance (one whole race) should equate to me shattering my 50M PR....or perhaps shattering my will to endure...or maybe a knee. I'm sure something will get shattered on Saturday...the most likely being my stomach.

As far as competition goes I don't really compete with people at these events. I'm slow...a perennial mid-packer that doesn't have the time or the stomach to up my game enough to compete with the top half of the field. I have aspirations to move up into the top 20% someday, and in the 50K and Marthon distances I'm pretty much there...but for 50 mile events December 3rd will probably not be that day. I haven't nailed a race of this distance yet and am still in the process of figuring out how to prevent nausea, cramping, dehydration and all of the other issues that pop up in Ultra races. I think I've finally figured out 50K races...but these are significantly shorter than 50 milers.

As for those that will be competing, there are a TON of elites running this race. The winning time will most likely be sub 7 hours, which roughly equates to an 8 minute per mile pace for 50 miles with a bunch of climbing in it. I'll be lucky if I can pull 12 minute miles over the course of the event. I'm looking forward to seeing Geoff Roes, Mike Wardian, Dakota Jones, Ricky Gates and a whole smorgasbord of Ultra Elites at the starting line...for about 5 seconds...then they will pull away and I probably won't see them for the rest of the race.

My training leading up to this thing has been pretty solid. I put in some solid weeks in August and September in preparation for my Portland Marathon/Defiance 50K races which occured on succesive weekends. I topped out with a 77 mile week and strung togther a 4 week period where I topped out at 258 miles with 24,000 feet of elevation gain. Not a crazy amount but it was a really solid month with a decent amount of climbing. Ideally I would've like to have strung together 4-5 70+ mile weeks...but alas 2 seemed to be my limit this year. The two October races served as some good long distance race/training efforts. I could probably spend a few thousand words analyzing my recent training but suffice it to say it was less than ideal, but far exceeded what I would I would've considered the minimum to run this event. My stomach hasn't been "trained" nearly as much as it should...but that is more an issue with my style of training. I do not eat or drink much during my training runs much to the dismay of most of my running buddies. The plus side of this is that I'm fairly used to bonking now and have progressed past the panic that usually occurs when your heart rate and breathing skyrocket. The minus of course is that consuming even a small amount of calories on the run can result in some pretty significant nausea. I managed to tame that beast during my 50K in october...but I have no idea how things will pan out by adding an addition 19.2 miles. I guess I'll just need to eat more oreos....

Crane Kicking PR's

Ah October...leaves turning colors, rain falling, and colder weather all mix into a super combination of PR crushing awesomeness. (At least in the Pacific Northwest)  I knew that I would probably be able to put together a good race at the Portland Marathon, likely coming in well under my previous PR of 3:51 but I hadn't really anticipated running quite possibly my best race ever 6 days later at the Defiance 50K. Suffice it to say I avoided the leg sweep and crane kicked both races in the face. Thank you Mr. Miyagi and Joe Esposito for teaching me that I could be the best...AROUND! (My house that is...at running...long distances)

Portland Marathon - October 9th - 3:31:18 PR by 20 minutes
Defiance 50K - October 15th - 5:03:20 PR by 18 minutes


Fear does not exist in my Dojo



I have to admit Portland was actually a bit of a let down for me. I was looking to improve my time by around a minute per mile, with hopes of sneaking in under the 3:25 mark. Problems with pacing and calories however resulted in a dramatic deceleration at around mile 23. I'm willing to bet that part of this was due to the spots drink of choice (ultima) being electrolyte only. I ended up eating a handful of gummy bears during the race so I guess I probably ate 100 calories over the course of 26.2 miles. Not ideal by any means. Pacing is also a big weakness for me. I, like many other runners, tend to get caught up in the atmosphere at the beginning of a race and go out way to fast. I thought I could stave off any serious leg pain and cardiac drift until the last mile but alas, it wasn't meant to be and my hopes at breaking 3:30 were dashed against the cold hard steel of portlands many bridges.

Fast forward 6 days and I was toeing the line at the Defiance 50K, the sophomore season for Tacomas only Ultramarathon. (Not sure if they can claim that anymore) The race directors are a fantastic group of fellow runners that know how to put on a great event. The course is essentially three 10+ mile laps through Point Defiance Park in Tacoma. The remarkable thing about this race is that they were able to come up with a 10 mile lap that doesn't actually intersect itself at any point. Oh and they also managed to squeeze a new hill into it this year, the aptly named "Achilles Hill". This probably added a couple minutes per lap but was a pretty fun little addition.

The two main issues I had at Portland were nowhere to be found during the 50K trail race. In a first, I actually may have managed a negative split. (Or at least a near even split) I ran laps of 1:39:23, 1:43:53, and 1:40:03. Couple that with a welcome absence of leg cramps, a completely solid stomach and a spectacularly even heart rate throughout and I can honestly say that it was the best race I've run. Perhaps not in terms of time improvement but definitely in terms of how it felt. Less than 24 hours later I felt almost fully recovered and even managed a nice 8.5 mile run. That being said...I still felt pretty exhausted throughout the week and as such ended up taking it pretty easy following the race. I'll be kicking it up a notch now though over the next 4 weeks as a prepare for the North Face Endurance Challenge. 50M set to be run in Marin on December 3rd.

So what lessons have I learned over this past week?

1) Apparently I can race marathon+ distance events twice in a week. Who knew?
2) I won't be repeating this too often. Races cost money. Training however is almost free.
3) Even pacing or negative splits are now possible. I just need to be more honest about my fitness.
4) It is possible to avoid cramps in long races! I think I'll do that from now on.
5) My wife is awesome for letting me do this stuff.
6) Even though my dog will never be a runner...she is still rad.
7) Just in case my cats see this too I should give them a shout out. They are still my favorite animals. 

Okay the last two had nothing to do with racing and I already knew my wife was awesome. Actually I already knew 5-7 but decided to put them in here any way as a shout out to the peeps that I essentially share my life with. And my pets are rad. I doubt I will have any pictures from the races to fill out this blog so I will include some of them instead. 




Pippa, the newest addition. Don't let her cuteness fool you, she pees on stuff.



But she likes Gears of War 3...which is pretty cool




A fun picture of teo enjoying the sun..which will remain hidden for the next 6 months

  

Ash. Named after the Evil Dead Protagonist.
Both are dumb in endearing ways.  



Brandi enjoying the sun...amongst near record setting snow

The last run until the next run...and beer stuff too.

Well the Orcas Island 50K came, I raced it, and got my butt kicked and my face stomped in. Rather than taking a week or so to recover I decided that I was fit enough to hit the ground running. This was a big mistake. I didn't officially take a rest day until the Thursday AFTER the race. Each day I ran I noticed a slight twinge in my knee, along with something that felt like the precursor to PF as well as the residual affects of my ankle rolling adventures both prior to and during the Orcas Island race. I'm a big proponent of active recovery but I think I took it a bit too far in this case. I ended up shortening my long run the weekend after Orcas from my originally planned 20 miles to 11 and then took a bit more time off the following week, shortening some middle distance runs and cutting one out entirely. My long run the following saturday consisted of an abbreviated 16 miles as I proceeded to roll my weak ankle (Again) and had to limp off tiger mountain. Once I got back to the car, slightly broken but not completely beaten, I vowed that I would return to conquer the spirited beast when my ankle was up to the challenge. Last weekend was the first long run I had where I actually felt halfway decent and was able to hit my target of 20+ miles. (I actually ended up doing 22 with around 1800 feet of elevation gain) Unfortunately this in no way prepares me for the potential suck-fest I'm going to have April 30th. I've signed up for a 50 miler and may end up bumping myself down to the 55K. (A paltry 34 miles....HA!) The near monthlong break I'll be taking in March while my wife and I are on vacation isn't going to help the fitness level either. (Though we will be hiking 26 miles at altitude...so maybe I'll be okay) On that thought I'm pretty sure the cheeseburgers I've eaten over the past few weeks haven't assisted in my training...or recovery for that matter. They were very tasty though.

In any event...the race definitely hurt...but the past month of training has probably been the most difficult month of running I've pushed through in quite some time. Not just physically but mentally as well. The weather has been less than stellar so I've been somewhat lacking in motivation. Once I get out the door I'm fine...it's just taking that first step out into the cold rain that usually has me retreating indoors to drink another steaming cup of coffee.

On the beermaking front I'm still working my way through my last batch. Turns out I can't muscle down 48 bottles of beer quite as quickly as when I was in college. (Even then I was pretty slow) I'm a little over a case into this batch and it's probably been over two months since I last brewed. I'm hoping that I can get a quick batch in after we get back from vacation in April. At that point I will christen this blog with it's first real brewing entry. I'll post fun pictures of my destroyed kitchen, portraits of me hating on the sanitation process, and maybe even post an hour and a half video showing me stirring the wort. Should be exciting times. If you are real lucky I'll make it rain...rain hops that is.

So yesterday was the last run until my next run...which probably won't occur until April. If I'm lucky I might be able to pull off the ultrarunner shuffle for short sections of the Inca trail but I'm pretty sure my lungs would burst if I tried a full on run at altitude up thousands of feet of elevation.

Orcas Island...of Pain

This past weekend I partook in the Orcas Island 50K out in the San Juan's. I had been looking forward to this race since forgetting to sign up for it back in September thus locking myself out of registration. Fortunately for me and a few others James, the directory of Rainshadow Running, kept a few spots open for individuals who volunteered to participate in a trail work party the week prior to the run. As such one week prior to the race I found myself mucking it around on some trails, wielding a MacLeod, cutting a pretty sweet new trail through Moran state park with fellow trail runners while being directed by Ranger Rich. Fast forward one week from there and I found myself toeing the line with about 200 other runners, a few of which were still feeling the residual affects of said trail work party. Runners may have a metric ton of endurance packed into their muscles but most of us lack any significant amount of upper body strength. The trail work party convinced me that I need to work my core and upper body a bit more than...well...zero. I just really wish I had realized this before running this race. Lesson learned I guess.

Runner Arms = T-Rex Arms



No Thank You



With my arms still feeling the after affects of a whopping 5 hours of amateur MacLeoding I decided to start off slow and steady with Danny, a fellow trail work buddy and new running friend.  The single track was soft, the weather was holding (Rain in the forecast but it hadn't yet made an appearance) and my legs felt ready.  Shortly into the run the trail starts a steady series of climbs. Danny took this opportunity to get past a majority of the pack so we wished each other luck and settled into our respective paces. I was shocked to find myself running with a veteran finisher of many "real" ultramarathons. I had never met this guy before but Glen had finished several 100 milers and as such I decided to follow his pace up most of the climb to Pickett. Glen warned me after a few miles that we would be passing through an area that reminded him of the movie deliverance. This actually made me a little nervous as I signed up for a 50K not some horrible life changing experience. (Thought some could argue that the 50K itself is pretty terrible) The "Shacks" turned out to be a yurt, a house with a tarp for a roof, and a wood fired hot tub. The wood fired hot tub was also occupied by the resident of the tarp house. I think I may have unconsciously increased my pace here...

Our first real climb consisted of approximately 1200 feet of gain in about 3 miles. Nothing too incredibly crazy (8% Average Grade) though the course profile for this race has been shown to have low balled the elevation gain. Unfortunately this first climb turned out to be the easiest one of the bunch by a long shot. 



There can be only one

 
Towards the top of Picket we ran through a section that actually looked familiar. This turned out to be the section of a trail that we had rerouted around a huge pond that had flooded a 100 yard section of the course. The lack of the rain this past week made the work almost entirely unnecessary as the "pond" had receded and was little more than a large puddle. At least I got to wield the MacLeod solo.


Following this we turned up a pretty steep climb to top out and then descended two miles along a forest service road passing streams, little waterfalls and a few hikers. Thankfully after a mile or so of slightly boring road running we turned back onto a nice piece of single track, passed more mountain streams, a few ponds and then dropped down into the first aid station back at camp moran. I ran into Danny as he was on his way out and noticed he had ditched his jacket and was now running in a short sleeve with some gloves. We said hi and good luck as we passed and I decided that ditching the jacket would be an excellent idea. The volunteers were lively and extremely helpful. They made a point of asking each runner what they needed in our hydration systems, filled everything up while we stuffed our faces with cookies and made sure we were all feeling okay. After an abbreviated stop I took off back across the grass field, gave words of encouragement to all the runners that were making their way down to the aid station and proceeded to enjoy the next couple miles of fairly flat, soft running. This was not to last...


The easier section of the climb

The second climb is a fairly monstrous beat with over 2000 feet of elevation gain in a little over a mile. This pushed the average grade well over 20% with sections that slowed the hardest of racers to a crawl. I actually passed quite a few people on the first part of this climb and then in turn was passed by a few others about halfway up. There were several instances in which the trail would tease a descent and then rocket back up the mountain 50 yards later. This was by far the most difficult hill I've ever hiked. (I didn't see anybody run it) The arches of my feet felt like they were going to tear apart. I'm fairly certain that I started to develop PF over the course of this one mile section of the race. Despite slowing to a crawl I'm fairly certain I went up too quickly despite my pace being 1.5-2.0 MPH.

After what seemed like an eternity I finally reached the top, tentatively increased my pace to a jog on the short flat and then cut loose on the downhill. This turned out to be a huge mistake. Metering out your effort is one of the most important aspects of ultrarunning. You cannot outrun your stomach, quads, lungs or any other piece of necessary gear during the race. In this case I'm not sure what I pushed too hard but my body crashed out out about halfway down the hill. I went from a 6.5-7 minute per mile pace to about 8.5-9.0 minute per mile on technically easy single track. I really wish I would've held onto the faster pace but I just haven't trained my hill legs enough to maintain my earlier pace. After this we came down to mountain lake and ran the length of it.

Where is the lake?

This section of the trail was nice but I hit a real low spot despite the picturesque quality of the entire length of trail. I sucked down some more nuun, drank some gel and just focused on getting some calories and re hydrating. This seemed to work as shortly thereafter I felt good enough to pick up the pace a bit heading into the water only aid station. Despite being only 4 miles away from the second full service aid station I decided to top off my hydration pack and chatted with a fellow runner for a minute or so who had rolled his ankle three times over the last few miles. He finally decided to pull the plug on his race and hitched a ride back to the start. Big props to him for making it 19 miles on a bum ankle.



To Constitution and beyond!

 After the aid station we headed skyward again up a ridiculously steep section trail. The objective here was to make it from Mountain Lake to the top of constitution, another 2K plus of elevation with long sections well over a 20% grade. This painfully awesome portion slowed me to a crawl again and I ended up chatting with a fellow runner as we ascended, both discussing how unbelievably difficult the power line trail was. I started feeling pretty good, told her that I was going to try to use my energy while I had it and power hiked/ran up the remainder of the ascent to Constitution. (She would later fly by me on the descent) I ended up passing a few other people along the way, snapped what I hoped to be some pretty cool photos,  and found myself on the top of constitution at the mile 23 aid station.

The face of an Ultrarunner?

The aid station offered a large variety of food though I didn't really feel like eating. That being said I decided to muscle down a small piece of PBJ, some chips, a pretzel, some mountain dew and an orange slice and then shot down the trail like a rocket without any jet fuel. My quads were blown, the trail though not particularly exposed to switch back repeatedly and offered many opportunities to trip and roll a hundred feet or so down a nice steep hill so I took it super easy and just tried to keep a pace that I felt I could maintain over the next 8-10 miles. Eventually I came to a flat section and started running with a few fellow racers. I settled in behind a tutu girl and a tall dude that looked like he was getting ready to hibernate in his pain cave. We ended up dropping the guy who was struggling and then followed the pace set by the tutu girl who I would end up finishing with.  Lisa was super fun to run with, seemed to have words of encouragement for everybody we passed or passed us, and kept me going over the last 1.5 hours of the course despite me wanting to curl up and sleep on several of the moss covered boulders. We chatted a bit which helped pass the time, almost turned our ankles on several occasions and all around had a fantastic time running the gradual uphill and the descent back down to cascade lake. (At one point I tripped, caught myself, watched my left calf cramp and then ease up all within the space of about a half of a second. A severe cramp would've ended my day...) At this point we ran into a volunteer that said we were "almost" there. It turns out "almost" is a pretty subjective term.

The finish line...about an hour after

Reinvigorated Lisa upped the pace and we ran pretty solid until we hit a section that turned us away from camp and looped us around a few other lakes for at least 2-3 miles. This was extremely demoralizing as the "almost there" didn't quite mean the same thing as we were hoping. Our pace slowed a bit and since neither of us knew exactly how far away from the finish we were we didn't really know how much effort we could meter out. After looping around for what seemed like an eternity we came back on a familiar section of trail and were informed that we had about 600 meters to go. We pushed as hard as we could and were told we had 29 seconds to finish under 7 hours by a volunteer with about 100-150 meters to go. Lisa really pushed the pace here since I didn't really understand what the volunteer meant by 29 seconds and I hadn't really looked at the finish clock. I started to settle back behind her but she told me I needed to push the pace and finish along with her. Sprinting down the final section we both ended up coming in under the 7 hour mark with huge smiles on our faces. It was funny because afterwards she thanked me for pushing the pace, keeping her motivated and helping her over the past 8 miles and I pretty much said the same thing to her. Never underestimate the power of running with a like minded individual. For much of the middle part of the race I was running solo, which while fun can become a bit taxing when you reach a low point. A fellow runner can really help you get through the rough spots and I'm extremely grateful she was there to help me at the end of the race.

After we finished I headed inside and found my new friend Danny sitting with his family enjoying the warmth and some hot soup. We gave each a congratulatory guy hug (Hand shake with the one armed back pat) and then immediately settled into discussing the power line climb. I think this was a common topic of discussion at the after party. He ended up finishing in about six and a half hours, an excellent time for this type of run. Shortly thereafter he and his family headed back to their rental cabin for some recovery food at a recovery hot tub soak. I still had an hour or so before Brandi was coming by to pick me up so I settled in, drank some beer, listened to some live bluegrass and chatted with a few other trail work friends and fellow runners who I had chatted with a bit out on the course. Keri, a trial work friend, had finished about 45 minutes before me and had a pretty good race. Ron, the guy with the bum ankle, had iced and elevated his foot for a good two hours after hitching a ride back to the start and seemed to be in good spirits in spite of the injury.

At the finish

I then chatted a bit more with Lisa about the race. Brandi showed up with the new Nikon Camera that she had been playing with most of the day and after introductions we talked for a few more minutes before saying goodbye and heading back to the car. (I mistakenly thought she would be picking me up at 5:30 instead of 5:00. Big thanks to her for walking around the camp and finding me as my legs were pretty shot)

In conclusion...this is the first Ultra I've run that actually felt significantly more difficult than a marathon. I'm pretty sure that is a bit of an understatement...

31 Miles, 8000 feet of elevation gain, Shower, Hot Tub, Dinner at Allium...Great Day. Onward to recovery...and Longer Races.