Rather than doing a race report for my abbreviated UTMB race I thought I'd do a list of the top 10 reasons why this trip over here was totally worth the time and money even though the race was cancelled after 3 hours of running:
10. Most of the cost of my trip was covered by my sponsors
9. The food. I'm actually kind of sick of the food here (I kind of just wish I could find somewhere to get a $2 burrito, a single slice of pizza, or a coffee to go), but I have had some pretty amazing meals. A good example would be the Pike Dumpling w/crayfish sauce and Risotto that I had for dinner the night before the race. I also had an amazing Monkfish w/garlic mashed potatoes dinner one night.
8. Being at the start of the race. This was simply amazing. People lined up in the streets 20 feet deep for the first half mile.
7. Watching the almost full moon rise of the Aigiulle Du Midi the first night I was in Chamonix. It was cloudy when I got here so you couldn't see the mountains but then just as the moon was coming up the clouds cleared off for the most amazing mountain moon rise I have ever seen in my life.
6. Running from the finish about 7 miles back on the race course to watch the lead runners come through in the "day after" UTMB. I was really excited to see Jez Bragg and Mike Wolfe running out front. I ran with each of them for a brief moment. It's certainly more fun to be in a race than to be a spectator, but it was kind of fun to be a "fan" for a day.
5. Chamonix. I don't know that I would ever want to live in this town but it is certainly a really special place. I used to think that we had some towns in the U.S. where people are really into outdoor recreation (Boulder, Moab, Bend, all the Colorado mountain towns, etc), but Chamonix makes all of these places seem like they're filled with a bunch of couch riding, overweight Americans.
4. Running through St. Gervais during the race. Mike Wolfe and I ran through St. Gervais together (about 12 miles into the race). You wind through town for almost a mile and the entire way there are people lined up shoulder to shoulder cheering, jumping up and down, and overflowing with excitement about the race. It's unbelievable. Small children. 80 year old folks. And everyone in between. If you have run through St. Gervais in the UTMB you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't I really don't know that any words can explain it.
3. Meeting and spending time with many of the most enjoyable and most talented (in many cases) ultra and mountain runners in the world. Not limited to, but most certainly including: Karl Meltzer, Mike Wolfe, Scott Jurek, Nicolas Mermoud, Kilian Jornet, Jez Bragg, Tracy Garneau, Rickey Gates, Scott Mason, Cory Johnson, and Bryon Powell.
2. The spectators all along the 20 miles of route that I ran before they stopped the race. I already mentioned the start and St. Gervais, but what was even more amazing to me were all the people out in the more remote areas of the course. This is a very social event in the small villages here. There are stretches where you run through neighborhoods and almost every home has people sitting on the front steps or up in the balconies and they are all cheering with genuine enthusiasm. In the U.S. it seems like many people would be annoyed by the clamor and disruption of having 2,300 runners race past their front door. Here though it seems like these people have such a deep and genuine respect/regard for all the racers. I kept thinking about how I wished I had the time to stop and make sure each of them knew how deep and genuine respect and regard I had for them.
1. Even though the race got stopped I still was able to run almost 60 miles (with almost 20,000 feet of total climbing) in the mountains in the 5 days that I was here. Some of the most enjoyable and beautiful mountain running I have ever done.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
And Then Almost Again
I'm in Chamonix. Several of the UTMB runners are now out racing a last minute 98k version after the actual UTMB was canceled last night.
The decision not to run this new race was actually pretty easy for me. I didn't find out for certain that this race was happening until 7:30 this morning and the race was set to start at 10:00. I had not slept at all as there had been so much conflicting information all night as to whether there was going to be another race. I was receiving calls, texts, emails, race website info., and even messages slid under my hotel room door and the information in all of these things was completely conflicting. At one point the race website even clearly stated that no decision would be made until 9am. Finally something that seemed definitive and clear. I could at least sleep until 9 and then see what was happening. 30 minutes later I got another message "confirming" that there would be a new race, buses leaving Chamonix at 6:30 (this occurred at about 5am) It eventually became hard to trust anything. I had no way to be certain that once we got over to Courmayeur (where the new race was reportedly going to start) that there would actually be another race. I guess the race organization sent out a text message sometime early in the morning (6 or 7am) confirming that there was in fact going to be a race at 10am. I for some reason never got the text. The race website had nothing about this new race until around the time that it actually started, and the weather (which had stopped the UTMB as well as the CCC and the TDS) had not really changed much overnight. It is supposed to be clearing sometime later tonight and into tomorrow but as I write this at 3:30pm it's every bit as cloudy, foggy, windy, and rainy here in Chamonix as it was last night when they stopped these three races.
At any rate, despite all of these confusions and uncertainties there are hundreds of runners (including perhaps half to two thirds of the top level runners) out there now running this new race. For me though, I came here to run the UTMB. The cancellation of the UTMB provided me with this huge amount of extra physical and mental energy to pore into something else over the next several days/weeks. Had the race organization been able to put together a more definitive alternative race without all of the confusion and question marks that ensued (not blaming the race organization here in any way. Rather just touching on the difficulty of what they were dealing with), and in a more timely manner then it is likely that this alternative race would have been where I would have used this extra energy provided to me by the cancellation of the UTMB. The way it was though, with no sleep and with the threat of weather stopping the "new" race, it was a really simple decision not to invest this energy into this. Now that I have slept and I begin to read the reports of the race that is going on out there now it's hard not to want to be out there, at least a little bit. But I certainly don't regret my decision. As I said it was actually a really easy decision for me. In the meantime I'm having fun thinking about where in fact I am going to focus this energy?
And there's this sky running marathon in Italy tomorrow that I mentioned in a post last night, but I don't think that's going to happen for me because it's 4 hours away and my means of getting there are now all out running this revised race that is occurring right now. So for me? I get to wander around Chamonix, eat some great food, and wait for the racers to arrive here later tonight. And then tomorrow when the weather is actually cleared up I'll go out for a nice long run, ride the tram up to the Aiquille Du Midi, and feel really glad that I'm not laying in bed wasted from running a "consolation" 98k race in which I had not slept for almost 24 hours at the start of the race.
The decision not to run this new race was actually pretty easy for me. I didn't find out for certain that this race was happening until 7:30 this morning and the race was set to start at 10:00. I had not slept at all as there had been so much conflicting information all night as to whether there was going to be another race. I was receiving calls, texts, emails, race website info., and even messages slid under my hotel room door and the information in all of these things was completely conflicting. At one point the race website even clearly stated that no decision would be made until 9am. Finally something that seemed definitive and clear. I could at least sleep until 9 and then see what was happening. 30 minutes later I got another message "confirming" that there would be a new race, buses leaving Chamonix at 6:30 (this occurred at about 5am) It eventually became hard to trust anything. I had no way to be certain that once we got over to Courmayeur (where the new race was reportedly going to start) that there would actually be another race. I guess the race organization sent out a text message sometime early in the morning (6 or 7am) confirming that there was in fact going to be a race at 10am. I for some reason never got the text. The race website had nothing about this new race until around the time that it actually started, and the weather (which had stopped the UTMB as well as the CCC and the TDS) had not really changed much overnight. It is supposed to be clearing sometime later tonight and into tomorrow but as I write this at 3:30pm it's every bit as cloudy, foggy, windy, and rainy here in Chamonix as it was last night when they stopped these three races.
At any rate, despite all of these confusions and uncertainties there are hundreds of runners (including perhaps half to two thirds of the top level runners) out there now running this new race. For me though, I came here to run the UTMB. The cancellation of the UTMB provided me with this huge amount of extra physical and mental energy to pore into something else over the next several days/weeks. Had the race organization been able to put together a more definitive alternative race without all of the confusion and question marks that ensued (not blaming the race organization here in any way. Rather just touching on the difficulty of what they were dealing with), and in a more timely manner then it is likely that this alternative race would have been where I would have used this extra energy provided to me by the cancellation of the UTMB. The way it was though, with no sleep and with the threat of weather stopping the "new" race, it was a really simple decision not to invest this energy into this. Now that I have slept and I begin to read the reports of the race that is going on out there now it's hard not to want to be out there, at least a little bit. But I certainly don't regret my decision. As I said it was actually a really easy decision for me. In the meantime I'm having fun thinking about where in fact I am going to focus this energy?
And there's this sky running marathon in Italy tomorrow that I mentioned in a post last night, but I don't think that's going to happen for me because it's 4 hours away and my means of getting there are now all out running this revised race that is occurring right now. So for me? I get to wander around Chamonix, eat some great food, and wait for the racers to arrive here later tonight. And then tomorrow when the weather is actually cleared up I'll go out for a nice long run, ride the tram up to the Aiquille Du Midi, and feel really glad that I'm not laying in bed wasted from running a "consolation" 98k race in which I had not slept for almost 24 hours at the start of the race.
Friday, August 27, 2010
But Not Quite...
Wow. This is going to take awhile to sink in. 3 hours (about 20 miles) into UTMB and the race was canceled due to severe weather. I was running smooth and feeling great, right where I wanted to be about 5 minutes behind the leaders. We didn't have any bad weather where we were but apparently in the higher areas up ahead there was heavy rain, wind, and fog.
I guess the plan now is to go run a marathon in Italy on Sunday. Not any old marathon though, but rather the sky running marathon world championship race. A race that has about 13,000 ft. of climbing over 26 miles! A marathon that will take the winners 5+ hours! Should be a blast.
I guess the plan now is to go run a marathon in Italy on Sunday. Not any old marathon though, but rather the sky running marathon world championship race. A race that has about 13,000 ft. of climbing over 26 miles! A marathon that will take the winners 5+ hours! Should be a blast.
Almost
Chamonix has been treating me very well. Yesterday was a great day of relaxing with some friends, new and old, and now it's almost time to get on with this other thing that's been looming on the horizon for a few days now:
UTMB is set to start here in Chamonix in 5 hours. I'm feeling good going into this one. I've slept 30 hours in the three nights that I've been over here and the weather has turned much cooler and a bit wet today. As long as it doesn't rain too much to create insane amounts of mud on the trails I think this weather will be perfect. I don't at all mind wearing a bit of extra clothing to stay warm, something I've been doing about 350 days a year in Juneau for the past 4 years.
For those interested in following along here are a couple places to start looking for info. as the race unfolds:
The race website's "live" page: http://www.ultratrailmb.com/page/128/Live.html
Also Bryon Powell is over here doing coverage that he'll be posting on his blog: www.irunfar.com
Be sure to check out the links in irunfar's sidebar because Bryon will likely be posting to his twitter page which is linked on the sidebar of his blog.
Also, the race will be giving the top ten runners through La Fouly (about mile 70) a GPS tracking device which will then track the remaining 35 miles of the race in virtual realtime (I think there might be a 3 minute delay or something like that). So be sure to look for that somewhere on the race website as the race unfolds. Perhaps I'll even be fortunate enough to be one of those top 10.
UTMB is set to start here in Chamonix in 5 hours. I'm feeling good going into this one. I've slept 30 hours in the three nights that I've been over here and the weather has turned much cooler and a bit wet today. As long as it doesn't rain too much to create insane amounts of mud on the trails I think this weather will be perfect. I don't at all mind wearing a bit of extra clothing to stay warm, something I've been doing about 350 days a year in Juneau for the past 4 years.
For those interested in following along here are a couple places to start looking for info. as the race unfolds:
The race website's "live" page: http://www.ultratrailmb.com/page/128/Live.html
Also Bryon Powell is over here doing coverage that he'll be posting on his blog: www.irunfar.com
Be sure to check out the links in irunfar's sidebar because Bryon will likely be posting to his twitter page which is linked on the sidebar of his blog.
Also, the race will be giving the top ten runners through La Fouly (about mile 70) a GPS tracking device which will then track the remaining 35 miles of the race in virtual realtime (I think there might be a 3 minute delay or something like that). So be sure to look for that somewhere on the race website as the race unfolds. Perhaps I'll even be fortunate enough to be one of those top 10.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
You Know You've Made It As An Athlete When...
... You get drug tested.
Apparently when the UTMB said they were going to do random drug testing they meant random drug testing of top runners. Not sure how that qualifies as random. Nonetheless I guess it's a good thing. I'd like to think that it's overkill and there's no need for the testing, but maybe I'm being naive.
On a lighter note: It's weird being in such a novel and majestic place, but feeling so alone at times. My time thus far in Chamonix has felt like a strange dream. When I first got here yesterday I was so tired and hungry that I couldn't think straight. I grabbed some lunch and then went to my hotel room and fell asleep while writing an email to my girlfriend. I didn't wake up for 6 hours. I stumbled out into the streets of this foreign town and found myself some dinner. After dinner I returned to my room and fell asleep for 6 more hours.
When I awoke today I felt like I stepped out into a completely different world than yesterday. Today the sun was shining bright and the mountains hung over the town like nothing I have ever seen before. Unless you have been somewhere that has an 11,000 foot difference between the valley floor and the top of the mountains that loom above it's just hard to imagine. In Juneau the mountains rise straight up from the coast, but those mountains top out between 3,500-5,000 feet. Here the mountains rise up just as steep but they go up over 14,000 feet (the valley floor is at about 3,500)!
Anyhow, after drinking some coffee (strong coffee... yum) and eating a huge breakfast I met up with Karl to run the last 10 miles of the course. Fairly uneventful run. We climbed about 2,500 ft. and dropped about 3,500 back down to Chamonix. The section of trail we saw today was really nice to run on. Much more smooth than I expected. These trails have mostly been around for a very long time so to say that they are well worn in is most certainly an understatement.
And so I am checked in for the race. Drug tested negative. And now I just need to wait two days before we start. My hope now is to be able to sleep about 20 of the next 45 hours. And when I'm not asleep I'll be eating or laying around resting.
Apparently when the UTMB said they were going to do random drug testing they meant random drug testing of top runners. Not sure how that qualifies as random. Nonetheless I guess it's a good thing. I'd like to think that it's overkill and there's no need for the testing, but maybe I'm being naive.
On a lighter note: It's weird being in such a novel and majestic place, but feeling so alone at times. My time thus far in Chamonix has felt like a strange dream. When I first got here yesterday I was so tired and hungry that I couldn't think straight. I grabbed some lunch and then went to my hotel room and fell asleep while writing an email to my girlfriend. I didn't wake up for 6 hours. I stumbled out into the streets of this foreign town and found myself some dinner. After dinner I returned to my room and fell asleep for 6 more hours.
When I awoke today I felt like I stepped out into a completely different world than yesterday. Today the sun was shining bright and the mountains hung over the town like nothing I have ever seen before. Unless you have been somewhere that has an 11,000 foot difference between the valley floor and the top of the mountains that loom above it's just hard to imagine. In Juneau the mountains rise straight up from the coast, but those mountains top out between 3,500-5,000 feet. Here the mountains rise up just as steep but they go up over 14,000 feet (the valley floor is at about 3,500)!
Anyhow, after drinking some coffee (strong coffee... yum) and eating a huge breakfast I met up with Karl to run the last 10 miles of the course. Fairly uneventful run. We climbed about 2,500 ft. and dropped about 3,500 back down to Chamonix. The section of trail we saw today was really nice to run on. Much more smooth than I expected. These trails have mostly been around for a very long time so to say that they are well worn in is most certainly an understatement.
And so I am checked in for the race. Drug tested negative. And now I just need to wait two days before we start. My hope now is to be able to sleep about 20 of the next 45 hours. And when I'm not asleep I'll be eating or laying around resting.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Abroad
About to take to the air tomorrow morning to fly over to Europe for UTMB.
Just got settled in here in Colorado and it's off on another adventure.
I've been really happy here in Nederland so far. The weather is amazingly nice and I've been finding all kinds of fun trails to run on. I haven't been able to find anything nearly as challenging as the trails I run on in Juneau but I'm sure I will find this in time. Right now I just keep finding a lot of trails that go up really high (have been up as high as 12,000 ft. so far) but they take their sweet old time getting there. Not Juneau style in which you just go straight up the side of a mountain. With how tough the altitude has been at times I guess this is probably a good thing.
I feel good and ready for UTMB. I haven't really thought much about it until I packed my bags today. I'll have 3 days over there before the race and I figure that is more than enough time to focus my mind on this one. It will be the toughest race I've ever run as far as terrain is concerned but I'm definitely making a choice not to put the kind of mental energy into this one as I put into Western States in the weeks leading up to it. In this case (as I do with most of my races) I'm just planning to show up and run, saving all of my energy for the race itself. There's always the worry that this will cause something really important to be overlooked, but with having run 20 or so ultras in the last 3 years I feel like I have enough experience to instinctively remember all the necessary things. I guess we'll find out next weekend if this is the case.
This said though, I'm really excited to run in Europe. From everything I've heard this is one of the most beautiful race courses in the world. I'm excited to race against the insanely top notch competition that will be there, and in some ways kind of scared (in a good way) to see just what Kilian is capable of on his home turf (in a sense) and on a course that he's already raced twice before. It's a long tough race, and a lot of things can happen, but I saw enough of his ability at Western States to know that he is capable of making this one a race for second place. That said I'm planning to be out there keeping pressure on anyone who is out ahead of me, and hoping to find a late race surge as I've been able to in so many of the races I've run in the past year.
This will be a fun one to see how it plays out. More than any race that I've run in quite some time I really don't know what to expect. There are enough strong runners and enough unknowns (to me) in this one that I could easily have a good day and finish behind a dozen or more runners. I'm kind of excited for this aspect of this race. It will make it very easy to show up and focus on simply having a fun day of running. Something that I intend with every race I run but sometimes it's not as easy to do when you line up for a race knowing that you "should" win it if you have a good day. With those feelings it's easy to start feeling like you need to win it to have a good day - not a mindset I like to go into a race with. At UTMB I know that I won't be feeling any of this and that's certainly a much easier place to come from going into a race which is already ridiculously hard no matter how much extra performance pressure you put on yourself.
Just got settled in here in Colorado and it's off on another adventure.
I've been really happy here in Nederland so far. The weather is amazingly nice and I've been finding all kinds of fun trails to run on. I haven't been able to find anything nearly as challenging as the trails I run on in Juneau but I'm sure I will find this in time. Right now I just keep finding a lot of trails that go up really high (have been up as high as 12,000 ft. so far) but they take their sweet old time getting there. Not Juneau style in which you just go straight up the side of a mountain. With how tough the altitude has been at times I guess this is probably a good thing.
I feel good and ready for UTMB. I haven't really thought much about it until I packed my bags today. I'll have 3 days over there before the race and I figure that is more than enough time to focus my mind on this one. It will be the toughest race I've ever run as far as terrain is concerned but I'm definitely making a choice not to put the kind of mental energy into this one as I put into Western States in the weeks leading up to it. In this case (as I do with most of my races) I'm just planning to show up and run, saving all of my energy for the race itself. There's always the worry that this will cause something really important to be overlooked, but with having run 20 or so ultras in the last 3 years I feel like I have enough experience to instinctively remember all the necessary things. I guess we'll find out next weekend if this is the case.
This said though, I'm really excited to run in Europe. From everything I've heard this is one of the most beautiful race courses in the world. I'm excited to race against the insanely top notch competition that will be there, and in some ways kind of scared (in a good way) to see just what Kilian is capable of on his home turf (in a sense) and on a course that he's already raced twice before. It's a long tough race, and a lot of things can happen, but I saw enough of his ability at Western States to know that he is capable of making this one a race for second place. That said I'm planning to be out there keeping pressure on anyone who is out ahead of me, and hoping to find a late race surge as I've been able to in so many of the races I've run in the past year.
This will be a fun one to see how it plays out. More than any race that I've run in quite some time I really don't know what to expect. There are enough strong runners and enough unknowns (to me) in this one that I could easily have a good day and finish behind a dozen or more runners. I'm kind of excited for this aspect of this race. It will make it very easy to show up and focus on simply having a fun day of running. Something that I intend with every race I run but sometimes it's not as easy to do when you line up for a race knowing that you "should" win it if you have a good day. With those feelings it's easy to start feeling like you need to win it to have a good day - not a mindset I like to go into a race with. At UTMB I know that I won't be feeling any of this and that's certainly a much easier place to come from going into a race which is already ridiculously hard no matter how much extra performance pressure you put on yourself.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Hitting The Road
I'm leaving tomorrow to drive southbound to Colorado. Have gotten some great UTMB training in the past two weeks. Lots of wonderful mountain exploration. Sure am going to miss the mountains here around Juneau but I hear Colorado has some mountains too.
Going to stop in Skagway for a day and run the Chilkoot trail on Monday. 6hr. 47m. is the fastest time I know of on this trail. I'm sure someone has probably done it faster than that. I intend to do it a fair amount faster on Monday. We'll see. I need to finish by 2pm to catch a train back to Skagway, and with how late I am to everything I do I'll probably be needing to run it in record time just to catch the train.
I'll be getting to Colorado in about a week. I'll then have about a week there to get settled in before heading over to Europe for my jaunt around Mount Blanc. I feel a bit overwhelmed with how much stuff I have going on right now, but I sure am super excited about all of it too.
Going to stop in Skagway for a day and run the Chilkoot trail on Monday. 6hr. 47m. is the fastest time I know of on this trail. I'm sure someone has probably done it faster than that. I intend to do it a fair amount faster on Monday. We'll see. I need to finish by 2pm to catch a train back to Skagway, and with how late I am to everything I do I'll probably be needing to run it in record time just to catch the train.
I'll be getting to Colorado in about a week. I'll then have about a week there to get settled in before heading over to Europe for my jaunt around Mount Blanc. I feel a bit overwhelmed with how much stuff I have going on right now, but I sure am super excited about all of it too.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Crow Pass Race Report
Everything leading up to this race was really easy. I didn't really think much about the race and I even slept quite well the night before. And then next thing I knew it was Saturday morning and we were off and running.
Almost right from the start it was clear that I would not be able to stay with the pace that Eric Strabel was planning to set. Last year Eric and I had had an epic battle in this race and he seemed determined to try to put me away early on in this one.
And so we climbed, and Eric pulled further and further away from me. I wasn't feeling too bad, but Eric clearly had a gear going up that I just didn't have on this day. I just kept telling myself to be patient and let the race come to me.
After the pass I started to feel a little bit better and I was noticing that the trail was in really good shape and that I was feeling really comfortable and agile on my feet. I remember thinking that I really needed to use the more technical stretches of this race to make up time on Eric because he had already showed me on the climb to the pass that he had a lot more strength than me on this day. And so I pushed hard through the rocky, muddy, rooty overgrown stretch of trail that leads from the bottom of the pass down toward the river. And then I promptly turned my ankle and had to slow down for several minutes. I had come really close to hurting it badly and even as it were I had done a bit of a tweak to it that needed several minutes to loosen up. And then of course I twisted it again. And again. Luckily none of these times were too bad and after about 10 minutes it was feeling fine again, and I was starting to feel confident on my feet again.
No sooner were things going smooth and suddenly a huge bull moose runs onto the trail in front of me and refuses to leave the trail. I wanted to just bushwhack around it but it wouldn't stay in the same spot whenever I approached it. It would jog along in front of me and then stop again further down the trail. We played this game for about a mile. Through some of this stretch I was able to run my normal pace, but most of the time I was just shuffling along timidly knowing that there was this giant beast around the corner. Finally he cleared the trail and I was back to running "normal."
I was a bit frustrated about the moose thing at the time, but was quickly able to let it go and get back to racing. There was still a lot of race to go and I had learned enough about patience at Western States that I knew that all I could do was focus on myself and just keep plugging along.
At the Eagle River crossing (mile 12) I got word that I was 3 minutes behind Eric. I was pretty energized by that. I had had the ankle "slow down", the moose "slow down", and had taken one pretty good fall that slowed me down for several seconds as well. And still, despite all this I was only 3 minutes back.
And so I pushed on with a lot more focus and determination. I started to feel good, but still I remained patient. I pushed the pace a little harder, but I still needed a bit more time to relax and get fully warmed up and ready for a hard push to the finish. Somewhere around mile 15 I had to stop to use the facilities (cost me maybe 45-60 seconds), and somewhere in this stretch I accidentally took the slower "high water" route, and to add insult to injury while I was on the high water route I ran across a cow moose with a calf camped out in the middle of the trail (found out later that Eric had also taken this slower route and had encountered the moose as well). Despite all of this though, when I got to Icicle Creek, around mile 18, I had still cut Eric's lead down to 60 seconds. I knew I was gaining on him fast at this point. I was feeling the best I had felt all day and I just kept pushing forward harder and harder.
About half way between "the perch" and echo bend (around mile 20) I caught Eric. I ran just behind him for 30+ seconds, but by that point he had really hit the wall and was just pushing along to get to the finish. It was clear that he was done racing. I passed by him and moved back into my much faster pace on to the finish.
When it was said and done I had taken another 2:30 off my course record time from last year. Eric slipped in just under 3 hours and another run at Crow Pass was in the books.
I was quite surprised that I was able to go as fast as I was this year. Especially with all the little mishaps that cost me time throughout the race. Adding it all up I suspect I lost 4 or 5 minutes of time from all of these little things. It was really satisfying to run from behind and remain patient enough all day to keep my head and my body in this one. I don't think I would have been so calm about this situation had I not had the experience I had at Western States last month.
In hindsight I think Eric ran a really smart race, he just ran out of gas a bit too early. I was really satisfied with the way I stayed calm and didn't crack under the pressure of how large of a lead he opened at the start of the race. There were definitely times though when I thought he was just running on another planet that day and I wouldn't see him again until I finished and he was already in his street clothes eating a Subway sandwich. That's what it felt like watching him run up to the pass. And that's what it felt like when I turned my ankle. And that's what it felt like when I followed that bull moose for several minutes. But through it all I just kept things in perspective, and kept moving down the trail as fast as I could at any given moment. Luckily that was just fast enough.
Almost right from the start it was clear that I would not be able to stay with the pace that Eric Strabel was planning to set. Last year Eric and I had had an epic battle in this race and he seemed determined to try to put me away early on in this one.
And so we climbed, and Eric pulled further and further away from me. I wasn't feeling too bad, but Eric clearly had a gear going up that I just didn't have on this day. I just kept telling myself to be patient and let the race come to me.
After the pass I started to feel a little bit better and I was noticing that the trail was in really good shape and that I was feeling really comfortable and agile on my feet. I remember thinking that I really needed to use the more technical stretches of this race to make up time on Eric because he had already showed me on the climb to the pass that he had a lot more strength than me on this day. And so I pushed hard through the rocky, muddy, rooty overgrown stretch of trail that leads from the bottom of the pass down toward the river. And then I promptly turned my ankle and had to slow down for several minutes. I had come really close to hurting it badly and even as it were I had done a bit of a tweak to it that needed several minutes to loosen up. And then of course I twisted it again. And again. Luckily none of these times were too bad and after about 10 minutes it was feeling fine again, and I was starting to feel confident on my feet again.
No sooner were things going smooth and suddenly a huge bull moose runs onto the trail in front of me and refuses to leave the trail. I wanted to just bushwhack around it but it wouldn't stay in the same spot whenever I approached it. It would jog along in front of me and then stop again further down the trail. We played this game for about a mile. Through some of this stretch I was able to run my normal pace, but most of the time I was just shuffling along timidly knowing that there was this giant beast around the corner. Finally he cleared the trail and I was back to running "normal."
I was a bit frustrated about the moose thing at the time, but was quickly able to let it go and get back to racing. There was still a lot of race to go and I had learned enough about patience at Western States that I knew that all I could do was focus on myself and just keep plugging along.
At the Eagle River crossing (mile 12) I got word that I was 3 minutes behind Eric. I was pretty energized by that. I had had the ankle "slow down", the moose "slow down", and had taken one pretty good fall that slowed me down for several seconds as well. And still, despite all this I was only 3 minutes back.
And so I pushed on with a lot more focus and determination. I started to feel good, but still I remained patient. I pushed the pace a little harder, but I still needed a bit more time to relax and get fully warmed up and ready for a hard push to the finish. Somewhere around mile 15 I had to stop to use the facilities (cost me maybe 45-60 seconds), and somewhere in this stretch I accidentally took the slower "high water" route, and to add insult to injury while I was on the high water route I ran across a cow moose with a calf camped out in the middle of the trail (found out later that Eric had also taken this slower route and had encountered the moose as well). Despite all of this though, when I got to Icicle Creek, around mile 18, I had still cut Eric's lead down to 60 seconds. I knew I was gaining on him fast at this point. I was feeling the best I had felt all day and I just kept pushing forward harder and harder.
About half way between "the perch" and echo bend (around mile 20) I caught Eric. I ran just behind him for 30+ seconds, but by that point he had really hit the wall and was just pushing along to get to the finish. It was clear that he was done racing. I passed by him and moved back into my much faster pace on to the finish.
When it was said and done I had taken another 2:30 off my course record time from last year. Eric slipped in just under 3 hours and another run at Crow Pass was in the books.
I was quite surprised that I was able to go as fast as I was this year. Especially with all the little mishaps that cost me time throughout the race. Adding it all up I suspect I lost 4 or 5 minutes of time from all of these little things. It was really satisfying to run from behind and remain patient enough all day to keep my head and my body in this one. I don't think I would have been so calm about this situation had I not had the experience I had at Western States last month.
In hindsight I think Eric ran a really smart race, he just ran out of gas a bit too early. I was really satisfied with the way I stayed calm and didn't crack under the pressure of how large of a lead he opened at the start of the race. There were definitely times though when I thought he was just running on another planet that day and I wouldn't see him again until I finished and he was already in his street clothes eating a Subway sandwich. That's what it felt like watching him run up to the pass. And that's what it felt like when I turned my ankle. And that's what it felt like when I followed that bull moose for several minutes. But through it all I just kept things in perspective, and kept moving down the trail as fast as I could at any given moment. Luckily that was just fast enough.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
2:54 And Change
Crow Pass is in the books. I was able to edge out Eric Strabel again. I came in almost 3 minutes faster than last year and lowered the course record to a bit under 2:55!
Eric ran out ahead of me all race but I caught and passed him with about 4 miles to go and finished about 5 minutes ahead of him. It was a really satisfying and shockingly relaxing run. I feel as good as I've ever felt 5 hours after this race so hopefully this will mean a really quick recovery.
I'll post a full race report sometime soon.
Eric ran out ahead of me all race but I caught and passed him with about 4 miles to go and finished about 5 minutes ahead of him. It was a really satisfying and shockingly relaxing run. I feel as good as I've ever felt 5 hours after this race so hopefully this will mean a really quick recovery.
I'll post a full race report sometime soon.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Crow Pass Number Five!
About to fall asleep early before my 5th consecutive Crow Pass race tomorrow morning. It's been really interesting to see how much different my approach to this race has been this year compared to last year. Not to say that I'm not taking this race seriously and not planning to push myself as hard as possible tomorrow, but last year this race was different than any I had ever run before or since. I went into it with so much focus and determination, not unlike an ancient warrior going to battle, knowing that it might be their last battle. I actually went into this race last year not certain if I would ever race again.
Tomorrow though things are a lot lighter. So much so that earlier this week I had a few different times in which I made plans for this weekend back in Juneau, forgetting completely that I'd be up here running this race. I think a big part of my laid back mindset right now is a response to Western States. I spent so much time focused on that race that I really think I needed to run this race low key like this. I'm sure I'll slip instantly into serious race mode at about 7:00:01 tomorrow morning, but right now, 9 hours before the race start, I'm about as relaxed as I've ever been about an upcoming race.
It's really nice to be like this. It almost feels like cheating.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
I'm Moving To Boulder...
...Not for good, but in three weeks I'll be packing up and hitting the road Southbound for at least 4 or 5 months!
I'm excited to check out a new place. I've spent some time around Boulder but not enough to really know what I'll think of it. Right now we're leaning toward finding a place to live outside of town, in the mountains to the West. Maybe Nederland. We'll see. Should be a fun place to run and live.
Moving away from Juneau will be hard, but I'm almost certain I'll be moving back here sometime after December so I'm excited for that. Autumn and early winter is pretty difficult here anyway.
Anyhow, enough about all this. Time for a run.
I'm excited to check out a new place. I've spent some time around Boulder but not enough to really know what I'll think of it. Right now we're leaning toward finding a place to live outside of town, in the mountains to the West. Maybe Nederland. We'll see. Should be a fun place to run and live.
Moving away from Juneau will be hard, but I'm almost certain I'll be moving back here sometime after December so I'm excited for that. Autumn and early winter is pretty difficult here anyway.
Anyhow, enough about all this. Time for a run.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Connecting The Dots
We just had a 3 day stretch of really nice weather here in Juneau and this got my mind really excited once again about this 100 mile route that I want to put together in the mountains around here.
In the past 4 days I ran almost 60 miles of this potential route. Even before this week I had run all of the route that I have in mind except for the connection between Heintzleman Ridge and Blackerby Ridge. The difficult thing about this connection is that there is a massive glacier that sits between the two (seen center right in the picture below).
There are 3 basic options for getting between the two ridges: drop down and cross Lemon Creek in front of the glacier; drop down to the face of the glacier but stay on the left side of it all the way around toward Blackerby Ridge; or stay up on the ridge past Nugget Mountain and Split Thumb, keeping on ridges all the way back around the glacier and eventually over to Observation Peak (the ridgeline can be seen in the distance on the above photo)
The first option is certainly the least desirable. You need to drop way down to do this and then cross a dangerous river and then climb back up all the elevation you lost with some bushwhacking as well. More and more lately I have been thinking that the third option of staying up on the ridge all the way around would be the best choice. Thus on Friday my friend Bryan and I set out with the intention of scouting this third option. A few hours into our "run" though we decided to drop down to the edge of the glacier and attempt the middle option instead. You still need to drop a long ways to do this but from up on the ridge it looked like this would include almost no bushwhacking and that the climb back up along the edge of the glacier would be so gradual that the elevation lost really wouldn't be a big deal. When it was all said and done this proved to be true and I was really pleased with this route. It's not fast. Took us about 8.5 hours to do 20-25 miles, but it's a pretty straight forward connection and the scenery is amazing. There was one hidden lake (above photo) that we had to cross right above the outlet that poured into a raging deathtrap of a river, but the crossing about 20 feet above the beginning of the deathtrap was only up to the bottom of our shorts and really quite mellow (photo below is of Bryan crossing just above the "deathtrap"). After that we simply climbed up onto the edge of the glacier (third photo below) and then climbed gradual for about 2 hours of very simple/smooth travel and we had connected into Blackerby Ridge on top of Observation Peak.
In all this turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and beautiful runs I have ever been on. I wish the lighting had been a little better so these photos weren't quite so washed out.
I know the specific locations of this route mean nothing to most of you, but the point is that this run put me one huge step closer to piecing together one of the most rugged, challenging, and scenic 100 mile race routes in the world. I hold no illusions that this will ever be any kind of organized/legitimate event, but maybe an annual "pilgrimage" for me and one or two others dumb enough to "run" this route. That'd be sweet.
In the past 4 days I ran almost 60 miles of this potential route. Even before this week I had run all of the route that I have in mind except for the connection between Heintzleman Ridge and Blackerby Ridge. The difficult thing about this connection is that there is a massive glacier that sits between the two (seen center right in the picture below).
There are 3 basic options for getting between the two ridges: drop down and cross Lemon Creek in front of the glacier; drop down to the face of the glacier but stay on the left side of it all the way around toward Blackerby Ridge; or stay up on the ridge past Nugget Mountain and Split Thumb, keeping on ridges all the way back around the glacier and eventually over to Observation Peak (the ridgeline can be seen in the distance on the above photo)
The first option is certainly the least desirable. You need to drop way down to do this and then cross a dangerous river and then climb back up all the elevation you lost with some bushwhacking as well. More and more lately I have been thinking that the third option of staying up on the ridge all the way around would be the best choice. Thus on Friday my friend Bryan and I set out with the intention of scouting this third option. A few hours into our "run" though we decided to drop down to the edge of the glacier and attempt the middle option instead. You still need to drop a long ways to do this but from up on the ridge it looked like this would include almost no bushwhacking and that the climb back up along the edge of the glacier would be so gradual that the elevation lost really wouldn't be a big deal. When it was all said and done this proved to be true and I was really pleased with this route. It's not fast. Took us about 8.5 hours to do 20-25 miles, but it's a pretty straight forward connection and the scenery is amazing. There was one hidden lake (above photo) that we had to cross right above the outlet that poured into a raging deathtrap of a river, but the crossing about 20 feet above the beginning of the deathtrap was only up to the bottom of our shorts and really quite mellow (photo below is of Bryan crossing just above the "deathtrap"). After that we simply climbed up onto the edge of the glacier (third photo below) and then climbed gradual for about 2 hours of very simple/smooth travel and we had connected into Blackerby Ridge on top of Observation Peak.
In all this turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and beautiful runs I have ever been on. I wish the lighting had been a little better so these photos weren't quite so washed out.
I know the specific locations of this route mean nothing to most of you, but the point is that this run put me one huge step closer to piecing together one of the most rugged, challenging, and scenic 100 mile race routes in the world. I hold no illusions that this will ever be any kind of organized/legitimate event, but maybe an annual "pilgrimage" for me and one or two others dumb enough to "run" this route. That'd be sweet.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Moving On
Well, the Western States dust has mostly settled and now it's back to focusing on my day to day training and looking and moving forward in my running and in my life outside of running.
I began running again on Saturday and feel like I've made a nice smooth recovery.
I was very focused on Western States this entire spring so my racing plans for the rest of the summer have mostly been on the back burner... until now. In three weeks I'll be heading up to Anchorage to defend my title at The Crow Pass Crossing. This isn't big news outside of Alaska, but up here there are more than a few people who will be following closely to see how yet another rematch between Eric Strabel and I plays out (this will be my 5th time running this race and of the previous 4 I've won 2 and Eric has won 2). I'm really excited about this race. I'm going to head up there and give it my all, but in reality I will mostly be training right through Crow Pass so as to have myself as ready as possible for racing over in Europe in the UTMB in August. That'll be my next BIG one. A rematch with Kilian, who has won this race two years in a row; racing over 100 miles with 2,300 people; on a route that has more total climbing than any race I've ever run! Should be a fun one. Time to start doing even more climbing than usual in my training here in Juneau.
I began running again on Saturday and feel like I've made a nice smooth recovery.
I was very focused on Western States this entire spring so my racing plans for the rest of the summer have mostly been on the back burner... until now. In three weeks I'll be heading up to Anchorage to defend my title at The Crow Pass Crossing. This isn't big news outside of Alaska, but up here there are more than a few people who will be following closely to see how yet another rematch between Eric Strabel and I plays out (this will be my 5th time running this race and of the previous 4 I've won 2 and Eric has won 2). I'm really excited about this race. I'm going to head up there and give it my all, but in reality I will mostly be training right through Crow Pass so as to have myself as ready as possible for racing over in Europe in the UTMB in August. That'll be my next BIG one. A rematch with Kilian, who has won this race two years in a row; racing over 100 miles with 2,300 people; on a route that has more total climbing than any race I've ever run! Should be a fun one. Time to start doing even more climbing than usual in my training here in Juneau.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
What A Day - Western States Race Report
Trying to put this one into words is going to be really difficult. I'll give it my best shot, but I doubt I'll really ever be able to capture anything near what really happened on Saturday.
Driving from my campsite to the race start on Saturday morning I was strangely relaxed. I had been anxious about this race for several days but now that the day was here I was very comfortable. Maybe the calm before the storm. And as 5 am grew closer and closer I continued to feel more and more calm. About 3 minutes before the start I made my way to the front of the line of runners and then we were off. It seems so strange now to think of how innocent and unaware of things to come we all were.
Right away I was in a lead group that included, among others, all the top dogs - Tony, Kilian, Hal, and I. For some time we were all quiet, maybe waking up still, or maybe we were all nervous about how quick and how easily Kilian was "floating" up this climb. Less than a mile into this race and I knew that Kilian was a very unique talent. Ultimately he made some mistakes in this race but I saw enough to know that he is every bit as strong of a mountain runner as many people seem to think. Or maybe even a little bit stronger than most people think. In a race which contained dozens of amazing things one of the most amazing of all was seeing Kilian's raw ability first hand. I've never raced anyone with as much pure physical ability as Kilian.
At any rate, we climbed up up and away into the first light of morning. After this first climb we fell into line through the snow. Tony, Kilian, and I took turns leading the way through a 5 or 6 mile obstacle course of snow, mud, and running water. In spots you couldn't see the trail for several hundred meters and you just picked your way through the openings in the trees, glissading on the downhills, and holding on for life on the side slopes. I think some racers were annoyed with this stretch but I loved it. I would have been happy if there was twice as much snow as there was. Eventually though we dropped back below snowline and on the long steady downhill that made up the re-route section of this year's race several other runners used gravity (and in some cases probably fried their quads) to catch up with the lead group. Joining the "big 4" in this stretch were Josh Brimhall, Leigh Schmitt, Zach Miller, Nick Clark, Nick Lewis, and maybe one or two others that I don't remember. But eventually we would climb again and once again Tony, Kilian, and I found ourselves alone at the front. And it would stay this way all the way through Duncan Canyon, Robinson Flat, Dusty Corners, and into the first canyon past Last Chance.
Dropping down into the canyon at mile 44 I felt great. Tony was running in front and I really enjoyed his downhill pace. Fairly Conservative. But we still had 56 miles to run. Pushing downhills at this point would almost certainly prove detrimental later in the race. Just as I was thinking this Kilian stepped off on the side of the trail and took off around Tony and I like he was shot out of a canon! As soon as I realized this was happening he was gone out of sight. I stressed about this for about 3 seconds and then fell back into a rhythm behind Tony. I didn't really know what to make of this. Kilian seemed so strong I thought maybe I wouldn't see him again all race. But mile 44? I kept telling myself that any human running that hard downhill at mile 44 will have to be hindered by it later on in the race. Problem was that I had already seen enough of Kilian that day that I was starting to question whether he's actually human.
And so Tony and I were left alone. We were both feeling great and at some point in here we even joked a bit about how those watching along at home on their computers must be getting pretty fired up about how this was playing out. Neither of us spoke of it at the time but I think we were both running on a confidence level at that point where we knew that this strength we were showing wasn't likely to be a fleeting thing. We had gone out on record pace and then from there we just kept speeding up more and more. It never felt reckless though. I don't think any of the three of us would have run the first half of the race any slower if we had it to do over again, especially considering that Tony and I were both able to run the second half (in comparison to historical splits) even faster than the first half.
But then we hit the bottom of the canyon at about mile 46 and just as soon as we began the climb up to Devil's Thumb something turned off for me and I just had no strength going uphill. To this point on the day I hadn't felt like it was hard to keep pace with Kilian or Tony on the climbs but suddenly they were both out of sight (Kilian because he ran the downhill so hard and Tony because he was suddenly climbing a lot stronger than me).
I arrived at Devil's Thumb (mile 47.8) about 3 minutes behind them and very concerned about the way I was feeling. From there dropping down to Eldorado Creek (mile 52.9) I held even with Tony and Kilian, still about 3 minutes back. I was still feeling really weak but at least I knew that I wasn't going any slower than them on the flats or downhills. I just had to find a way to get my uphill strength back. This certainly wasn't going to happen anytime soon though, as i just continued to feel weaker and weaker with every climb. I was eating enough. I was drinking enough. But for some reason I just couldn't climb the way I usually can. I went through Michigan Bluff (mile 55.7) 8 minutes behind Tony and Kilian and things were not looking or feeling good for me. I think the large crowds of people at Michigan Bluff kind of began my revival though. There seemed to be several hundred people here and I think some of the energy that I got from all of these people helped me leave Michigan Bluff in a much better place in my mind than I was when I got there. I was still feeling really weak on the climbs. There's a gravel road heading out of Michigan Bluff that is sloped uphill ever so slightly. Not even what I would normally call a hill. On this day though it was a walker for me. Something had changed for me though. A few minutes before Michigan Bluff I was really annoyed with how weak I was climbing, but now I noticed that it wasn't bothering me as much. Instead I was slowly coming to realize that I needed to stop thinking about Tony and Kilian and to stop thinking about how bad I felt on climbs and focus on simply taking care of my mind and body in hopes that eventually I could turn things around and at least make a strong push to the finish. I took a lot of solace in this. Suddenly everything was really simple. I didn't need to catch Tony or Kilian. I didn't need to win the race. I just needed to take care of myself and let things play out as they would.
This was my mindset as I rolled into Foresthill (mile 62) 12 minutes behind Tony and Kilian and picked up my pacer, Dave Mackey. I told Dave that he's going to have to be patient, that I wasn't feeling very good, but I was very determined to be patient and do the work to turn this around. I have run enough 100's to know that there are always low points like this, but I've also run enough of them to know that with attention to nutrition, hydration, and a lot of patience these low points almost always turn around.
And so Dave and I ran. And I felt really tired and really slow, but for whatever reason I was just not too concerned. Almost like I knew things were going to get really good as we made our way further down the trail. It helped that Dave kept saying all of the right things. He talked often of how much better off I was being where I was rather than where Tony and Kilian were. I was in a place where I could just run my race and not stress about what anyone else was doing.
When we were first left Foresthill we took off a little faster than I was comfortable with. I thought maybe I could push through this pace and find a comfort in it, but finally after several minutes I told Dave that I needed to be more patient and find a more sustainable pace. And so we slowed even more. But somehow as we did this everything started to feel right. We started to build a collective energy between us that this was just a low point that we were going to get through and come out the other end stronger than ever. We didn't talk about this, but it was something that I was just feeling. And suddenly Dave's comments about me being right where I wanted to be were resonating with me. I think at first he was saying these things just to make me feel good about my situation, but somewhere around mile 70 it began to feel like this wasn't just something to say to feel better about a bad situation, but rather because it was true.
From here my energy and pace just seemed to build like a snowball rolling down a hill. Confidence is an amazing thing. And Dave and I were both feeling it and we began to speed up with every step. It was really an amazing feeling. Somewhere in the midst of this I told Dave that if I didn't catch Tony and Kilian it wouldn't be because of me, but rather because they would have pulled off a superhuman effort. I've had this feeling before late in a race, but it's always been as I'm pulling away from the field and smelling the finish. It's weird to be running 15 minutes behind with 25 miles to go and almost know that you are going to win.
At any rate, I didn't try to get too far ahead of things and just continued to focus on hydration, nutrition, and keeping as cool as possible. When we made our way down to the river crossing at mile 78 it was as hot as it had been all day but I knew that we would get to dunk in the water and then we would be in the shade for most of the rest of the race. That was a really good feeling to know that the heat was almost a thing of the past. The whole day I felt a lot better any time that I could get myself cooled off. All day I was looking forward to the last 20 miles of the race, knowing that it would be much cooler than the 50 miles previous to that.
And so we took a dunk in the river and began the climb up to Green Gate. I arrived at the river knowing that I was feeling really good and had turned things around, but I didn't really know how much until this climb up to Green Gate. The climb up felt effortless. I ran the climb at 10 minute per mile pace and cut 4 minutes into Tony and Kilian's lead in less than 2 miles! At Green Gate (mile 79.8) David Horton told me that I was gaining on Tony and Kilian and assured me that he wasn't just saying that to make me feel good, that I was really gaining on them. I looked at him and told him, "I know". I actually didn't "know" that I was gaining on them but I knew that I had to be. When you run uphill at 10 minute mile pace after running 80 miles you will be gaining on whoever is in front of you.
After Green Gate you get onto what are some of the most enjoyable trails in the entire race. Rolling singletrack deep in the forest with lots of shade and just enough ups and downs to keep you distracted from anything else. I'm still not sure if Dave was telling me this to make me feel even more confident than I already felt, but at first he told me we ran an 8 minute mile and then the next mile he said we ran 7:30! Whatever the pace was it was fast. I could feel it and it felt great. By Auburn Lake Trails Aid Station (mile 85.2) we had passed Kilian (who was laying in a stream when we passed him. We moved past him so quickly that Dave didn't even notice it was him) and were only 3 minutes behind Tony! That was another 9 minutes that we gained in 5.4 miles!
At this point I knew I was going to catch Tony and I began to strategize about what would be the best time to pass him to give myself the best chance of staying ahead of him all the way to the finish. I didn't want to continue pushing too hard and not have enough gas to finish pretty strong, but I also didn't want to slow way down and lose the momentum that I had. I decided to run a little more relaxed for several minutes (but still at a pace faster than what I presumed Tony was running) so that I would catch him sometime near the next aid station (mile 89.9). As it were I caught up to him around mile 88.5 I would guess. I saw him and Jen (his pacer) walking up a short hill about a hundred yards ahead. If it had been a bit earlier in the race I would have run with Tony and chatted with them for awhile but this was late enough in the race that I decided to make a tactical, decisive pass. I rested behind them for a bit and then got right up behind them before announcing my presence. And then Dave and I were gone with nothing more than a quick, "hey Tony". I still feel bad about this writing about it now. It is of course the same way I would do it if I had it to do over again, and I would imagine the same way Tony (or any strategically wise runner) would have done it to me, but earlier in the day I had really enjoyed running with Tony and I kind of wish we could have run together some more at this point. But this was a race and I was determined to do whatever I could do to improve my chances of being the first one to the finish. And in this case that included a quick, decisive pass that would hopefully put Tony out of the race for the win as quick as possible.
For about a mile I thought for sure this strategy had worked. I couldn't see Tony behind me and I was still feeling great. There was one problem though: Dave and I had been so focused on me for so long that I think we both had neglected to pay much attention to how his body was doing, and somewhere around mile 89.5 Dave informed me that his body wasn't doing very well. His stomach was hurting and I don't think he had nearly enough calories and liquid in the almost 30 miles that he had run with me to that point. Just moments after he took a bit of a fall on the trail and then pushed hard to catch back up to me he informed me that he wasn't going to be able to continue on at this pace. For a moment I considered slowing down to see if he could turn it around and keep with me. Dave had been through so much with me at this point, and had helped my race so much that I almost couldn't bear the thought of leaving him behind. I thought that maybe it would be better for me to slow down for awhile and hopefully give him the chance to bounce back, knowing that once he bounced back he should have no problem staying with me to the finish.
Ultimately though, this was my race and it was time for me to push along on my own. After Dave stopped I felt pretty good for another mile or so, but then, sometime shortly after Brown's Bar Aid Station (mile 89.9) I began to really feel the accumulation of 90 miles on my legs. I knew I only had a minute or two lead on Tony, and I knew that this was going to be a long 10 miles to the finish. When I hit the climb up to Highway 49 I kept trying to take solace in the fact that at least this time I was supposed to be running up this hill. In the Way Too Cool 50k this spring I had taken a wrong turn and run all the way down this hill to the river and then had to climb back up, in a move that cost me the win in that race. It felt good to get another shot at this hill, this time in a much less frustrated place in my mind, but my body was really starting to hurt and part way up the climb I turned around and there was Tony, no more than 30 seconds behind me! I had blown by him 4 miles back, but since that time I had lost my pacer, started to slow quite a bit, and now he was about to catch back up to me.
This was one of those very clear points in a race that I knew would be the decisive point. Seeing him that close sent a shot of adrenaline through me and I knew that this would either be the thing that was able to propel me ahead for good or that I was going to give one last push and just not have enough energy left in the tank. Lucky for me when I gave the push there was more fuel there. Almost right away after seeing Tony I sped up a lot and began to feel a lot better. I cruised through the Highway 49 aid station (mile 93.5) with a one minute lead (Same as my lead had been at Brown's Bar), and told myself that I was not willing to let this race come down to the climb up to Robie Point. I was going to run the downhill to No Hands Bridge as hard as gravity would allow and if I still had enough to climb hard up to Robie Point then it was meant to me, but there was no way I was willing to leave No Hands Bridge at the same time as Tony. And so I pushed hard out of Highway 49. About a mile past the aid station you cross a meadow and then begin a 2 mile downhill. Once I got to the downhill I just let my body go. It hurt. It hurt bad, but I just kept speeding up faster and faster. Eventually I was running so hard down this hill that it didn't really hurt anymore. I got to No Hands Bridge (mile 96.8) and was pretty sure I must have increased my lead on Tony, but I still had no way to know (as it turned out I had a 6 minute lead at this point) so I just breezed through the aid station and began the final climb of the race up to Robie Point.
Amazingly I had a lot of uphill strength still. I imagine it was mostly from fear and/or adrenaline. I was able to run the entire climb up to Robie and I heard at the aid station there that I had had a 6 minute lead down at the bridge. Dave had gotten a ride from Highway 49 around to here so he joined me for the last mile of the run. I was almost certain I had it wrapped up as soon as we hit the pavement (1.2 miles from the finish), but I was still looking behind me for several minutes to make sure Tony didn't have one more surge in him. Finally with less than a half mile to go I fully relaxed and fully accepted that I was going to win. And with that I let all of the stress flow out of my body almost instantly. Just seconds earlier I was looking over my shoulder and dwelling on the pain and fatigue in my body, but now everything loosened up and I had a huge smile on my face. There were people everywhere and I was overtaken with gratitude for all the support that I had gotten from friends, family, race staff, race volunteers, and maybe most of all the complete strangers who were just out on the course as fans. As you get near the finish there are hundreds of these people and I couldn't help but thank as many of them as possible.
And then I was onto the track for 300 meters of childlike excitement. I was excited to be done. I was excited to be the first one done. I was excited to be finishing faster than anyone ever in this race. But most of all I was excited for how amazingly fun and satisfying my run had been. If I was in to racing with a strategy this would have been the perfect strategy. everything had played out almost perfectly for me. I've had days in which I've been much stronger physically, but I don't think I've ever had a race where I was as strong as this mentally. To struggle for 25+ miles in one of the most competitive 100 mile trail races ever and still be able to find a way to win doesn't happen without some serious mental patience, strength, and stubborness.
And so I made my way around the track with a huge smile on my face. I slapped hands with everyone lined up down the straightaway to the finish and I jogged slowly across the finish line. And I sat. And all the fatigue and pain went out of my body. My Dad and Brother who had been out on the course as my crew all day were there, and hundreds of other people were there. And for the next 2 or 3 hours I don't remember much of anything. I talked to a lot of people. I talked to Tony for a few seconds after a congratulatory hug at the finish. I would have liked to talk to Tony for hours about his experience. Hopefully we'll get a chance to do that sometime in the future.
The smoke still hasn't completely settled from this, but now my life is pretty much back to normal. I'm back to Alaska. Back to work. Still haven't been able to run yet. Maybe try to get out for 3 or 4 miles tomorrow. I'm not really sore still, but very tired in my legs. The swarm of attention from media, friends, and strangers has been shocking. I knew Western States had a lot bigger following than any race I've ever run but I really didn't know that it was this much. It's been a little overwhelming at times, but mostly nice to talk with people about this run. I feel like I still need to talk about it a little more to get it worked through my mind and be able to move on. Almost every few hours I find myself drifting back to this race in my mind and I remember some part of the race which I hadn't previously thought about, and often these previously forgoten moments feel really important. I guess after a race like this I might expect this to keep happening to some extent for the rest of my life.
The only other thing I should say is a huge thank you to all of my friends and family who supported me in one way or another for this run. Notably my Dad and Brother who flew out from New York to be my support crew for this one. It was awesome having them out there. Also Dave Mackey, my pacer. It's easy to joke about me "dropping" him and presume that he wasn't that valuable because of that, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I am quite certain I would not have been able to make the turn around in my race had I not had Dave's support. He seemed to know exactly what to say all the time to keep my mind in the right place. It was the ultimate selfless run on his part, one that I will be appreciate for the rest of my life. Also all of the voluunteers and fans out on the course on Saturday. It really was amazing just how many of you were out there. Good stuff. Also to all the racers who lined up and ran this race, specifically Kilian and Tony. It was an honor to race these guys (and everyone else in the race) and I can't wait to have a chance to do so again. And lastly the biggest thanks of all to my girlfriend who was back in Alaska for this one, but who gave me more support and strength in this endeveor than I would have thought possible. I'm one lucky man to have had all of your help and support. Thanks.
Driving from my campsite to the race start on Saturday morning I was strangely relaxed. I had been anxious about this race for several days but now that the day was here I was very comfortable. Maybe the calm before the storm. And as 5 am grew closer and closer I continued to feel more and more calm. About 3 minutes before the start I made my way to the front of the line of runners and then we were off. It seems so strange now to think of how innocent and unaware of things to come we all were.
Right away I was in a lead group that included, among others, all the top dogs - Tony, Kilian, Hal, and I. For some time we were all quiet, maybe waking up still, or maybe we were all nervous about how quick and how easily Kilian was "floating" up this climb. Less than a mile into this race and I knew that Kilian was a very unique talent. Ultimately he made some mistakes in this race but I saw enough to know that he is every bit as strong of a mountain runner as many people seem to think. Or maybe even a little bit stronger than most people think. In a race which contained dozens of amazing things one of the most amazing of all was seeing Kilian's raw ability first hand. I've never raced anyone with as much pure physical ability as Kilian.
At any rate, we climbed up up and away into the first light of morning. After this first climb we fell into line through the snow. Tony, Kilian, and I took turns leading the way through a 5 or 6 mile obstacle course of snow, mud, and running water. In spots you couldn't see the trail for several hundred meters and you just picked your way through the openings in the trees, glissading on the downhills, and holding on for life on the side slopes. I think some racers were annoyed with this stretch but I loved it. I would have been happy if there was twice as much snow as there was. Eventually though we dropped back below snowline and on the long steady downhill that made up the re-route section of this year's race several other runners used gravity (and in some cases probably fried their quads) to catch up with the lead group. Joining the "big 4" in this stretch were Josh Brimhall, Leigh Schmitt, Zach Miller, Nick Clark, Nick Lewis, and maybe one or two others that I don't remember. But eventually we would climb again and once again Tony, Kilian, and I found ourselves alone at the front. And it would stay this way all the way through Duncan Canyon, Robinson Flat, Dusty Corners, and into the first canyon past Last Chance.
Dropping down into the canyon at mile 44 I felt great. Tony was running in front and I really enjoyed his downhill pace. Fairly Conservative. But we still had 56 miles to run. Pushing downhills at this point would almost certainly prove detrimental later in the race. Just as I was thinking this Kilian stepped off on the side of the trail and took off around Tony and I like he was shot out of a canon! As soon as I realized this was happening he was gone out of sight. I stressed about this for about 3 seconds and then fell back into a rhythm behind Tony. I didn't really know what to make of this. Kilian seemed so strong I thought maybe I wouldn't see him again all race. But mile 44? I kept telling myself that any human running that hard downhill at mile 44 will have to be hindered by it later on in the race. Problem was that I had already seen enough of Kilian that day that I was starting to question whether he's actually human.
And so Tony and I were left alone. We were both feeling great and at some point in here we even joked a bit about how those watching along at home on their computers must be getting pretty fired up about how this was playing out. Neither of us spoke of it at the time but I think we were both running on a confidence level at that point where we knew that this strength we were showing wasn't likely to be a fleeting thing. We had gone out on record pace and then from there we just kept speeding up more and more. It never felt reckless though. I don't think any of the three of us would have run the first half of the race any slower if we had it to do over again, especially considering that Tony and I were both able to run the second half (in comparison to historical splits) even faster than the first half.
But then we hit the bottom of the canyon at about mile 46 and just as soon as we began the climb up to Devil's Thumb something turned off for me and I just had no strength going uphill. To this point on the day I hadn't felt like it was hard to keep pace with Kilian or Tony on the climbs but suddenly they were both out of sight (Kilian because he ran the downhill so hard and Tony because he was suddenly climbing a lot stronger than me).
I arrived at Devil's Thumb (mile 47.8) about 3 minutes behind them and very concerned about the way I was feeling. From there dropping down to Eldorado Creek (mile 52.9) I held even with Tony and Kilian, still about 3 minutes back. I was still feeling really weak but at least I knew that I wasn't going any slower than them on the flats or downhills. I just had to find a way to get my uphill strength back. This certainly wasn't going to happen anytime soon though, as i just continued to feel weaker and weaker with every climb. I was eating enough. I was drinking enough. But for some reason I just couldn't climb the way I usually can. I went through Michigan Bluff (mile 55.7) 8 minutes behind Tony and Kilian and things were not looking or feeling good for me. I think the large crowds of people at Michigan Bluff kind of began my revival though. There seemed to be several hundred people here and I think some of the energy that I got from all of these people helped me leave Michigan Bluff in a much better place in my mind than I was when I got there. I was still feeling really weak on the climbs. There's a gravel road heading out of Michigan Bluff that is sloped uphill ever so slightly. Not even what I would normally call a hill. On this day though it was a walker for me. Something had changed for me though. A few minutes before Michigan Bluff I was really annoyed with how weak I was climbing, but now I noticed that it wasn't bothering me as much. Instead I was slowly coming to realize that I needed to stop thinking about Tony and Kilian and to stop thinking about how bad I felt on climbs and focus on simply taking care of my mind and body in hopes that eventually I could turn things around and at least make a strong push to the finish. I took a lot of solace in this. Suddenly everything was really simple. I didn't need to catch Tony or Kilian. I didn't need to win the race. I just needed to take care of myself and let things play out as they would.
This was my mindset as I rolled into Foresthill (mile 62) 12 minutes behind Tony and Kilian and picked up my pacer, Dave Mackey. I told Dave that he's going to have to be patient, that I wasn't feeling very good, but I was very determined to be patient and do the work to turn this around. I have run enough 100's to know that there are always low points like this, but I've also run enough of them to know that with attention to nutrition, hydration, and a lot of patience these low points almost always turn around.
And so Dave and I ran. And I felt really tired and really slow, but for whatever reason I was just not too concerned. Almost like I knew things were going to get really good as we made our way further down the trail. It helped that Dave kept saying all of the right things. He talked often of how much better off I was being where I was rather than where Tony and Kilian were. I was in a place where I could just run my race and not stress about what anyone else was doing.
When we were first left Foresthill we took off a little faster than I was comfortable with. I thought maybe I could push through this pace and find a comfort in it, but finally after several minutes I told Dave that I needed to be more patient and find a more sustainable pace. And so we slowed even more. But somehow as we did this everything started to feel right. We started to build a collective energy between us that this was just a low point that we were going to get through and come out the other end stronger than ever. We didn't talk about this, but it was something that I was just feeling. And suddenly Dave's comments about me being right where I wanted to be were resonating with me. I think at first he was saying these things just to make me feel good about my situation, but somewhere around mile 70 it began to feel like this wasn't just something to say to feel better about a bad situation, but rather because it was true.
From here my energy and pace just seemed to build like a snowball rolling down a hill. Confidence is an amazing thing. And Dave and I were both feeling it and we began to speed up with every step. It was really an amazing feeling. Somewhere in the midst of this I told Dave that if I didn't catch Tony and Kilian it wouldn't be because of me, but rather because they would have pulled off a superhuman effort. I've had this feeling before late in a race, but it's always been as I'm pulling away from the field and smelling the finish. It's weird to be running 15 minutes behind with 25 miles to go and almost know that you are going to win.
At any rate, I didn't try to get too far ahead of things and just continued to focus on hydration, nutrition, and keeping as cool as possible. When we made our way down to the river crossing at mile 78 it was as hot as it had been all day but I knew that we would get to dunk in the water and then we would be in the shade for most of the rest of the race. That was a really good feeling to know that the heat was almost a thing of the past. The whole day I felt a lot better any time that I could get myself cooled off. All day I was looking forward to the last 20 miles of the race, knowing that it would be much cooler than the 50 miles previous to that.
And so we took a dunk in the river and began the climb up to Green Gate. I arrived at the river knowing that I was feeling really good and had turned things around, but I didn't really know how much until this climb up to Green Gate. The climb up felt effortless. I ran the climb at 10 minute per mile pace and cut 4 minutes into Tony and Kilian's lead in less than 2 miles! At Green Gate (mile 79.8) David Horton told me that I was gaining on Tony and Kilian and assured me that he wasn't just saying that to make me feel good, that I was really gaining on them. I looked at him and told him, "I know". I actually didn't "know" that I was gaining on them but I knew that I had to be. When you run uphill at 10 minute mile pace after running 80 miles you will be gaining on whoever is in front of you.
After Green Gate you get onto what are some of the most enjoyable trails in the entire race. Rolling singletrack deep in the forest with lots of shade and just enough ups and downs to keep you distracted from anything else. I'm still not sure if Dave was telling me this to make me feel even more confident than I already felt, but at first he told me we ran an 8 minute mile and then the next mile he said we ran 7:30! Whatever the pace was it was fast. I could feel it and it felt great. By Auburn Lake Trails Aid Station (mile 85.2) we had passed Kilian (who was laying in a stream when we passed him. We moved past him so quickly that Dave didn't even notice it was him) and were only 3 minutes behind Tony! That was another 9 minutes that we gained in 5.4 miles!
At this point I knew I was going to catch Tony and I began to strategize about what would be the best time to pass him to give myself the best chance of staying ahead of him all the way to the finish. I didn't want to continue pushing too hard and not have enough gas to finish pretty strong, but I also didn't want to slow way down and lose the momentum that I had. I decided to run a little more relaxed for several minutes (but still at a pace faster than what I presumed Tony was running) so that I would catch him sometime near the next aid station (mile 89.9). As it were I caught up to him around mile 88.5 I would guess. I saw him and Jen (his pacer) walking up a short hill about a hundred yards ahead. If it had been a bit earlier in the race I would have run with Tony and chatted with them for awhile but this was late enough in the race that I decided to make a tactical, decisive pass. I rested behind them for a bit and then got right up behind them before announcing my presence. And then Dave and I were gone with nothing more than a quick, "hey Tony". I still feel bad about this writing about it now. It is of course the same way I would do it if I had it to do over again, and I would imagine the same way Tony (or any strategically wise runner) would have done it to me, but earlier in the day I had really enjoyed running with Tony and I kind of wish we could have run together some more at this point. But this was a race and I was determined to do whatever I could do to improve my chances of being the first one to the finish. And in this case that included a quick, decisive pass that would hopefully put Tony out of the race for the win as quick as possible.
For about a mile I thought for sure this strategy had worked. I couldn't see Tony behind me and I was still feeling great. There was one problem though: Dave and I had been so focused on me for so long that I think we both had neglected to pay much attention to how his body was doing, and somewhere around mile 89.5 Dave informed me that his body wasn't doing very well. His stomach was hurting and I don't think he had nearly enough calories and liquid in the almost 30 miles that he had run with me to that point. Just moments after he took a bit of a fall on the trail and then pushed hard to catch back up to me he informed me that he wasn't going to be able to continue on at this pace. For a moment I considered slowing down to see if he could turn it around and keep with me. Dave had been through so much with me at this point, and had helped my race so much that I almost couldn't bear the thought of leaving him behind. I thought that maybe it would be better for me to slow down for awhile and hopefully give him the chance to bounce back, knowing that once he bounced back he should have no problem staying with me to the finish.
Ultimately though, this was my race and it was time for me to push along on my own. After Dave stopped I felt pretty good for another mile or so, but then, sometime shortly after Brown's Bar Aid Station (mile 89.9) I began to really feel the accumulation of 90 miles on my legs. I knew I only had a minute or two lead on Tony, and I knew that this was going to be a long 10 miles to the finish. When I hit the climb up to Highway 49 I kept trying to take solace in the fact that at least this time I was supposed to be running up this hill. In the Way Too Cool 50k this spring I had taken a wrong turn and run all the way down this hill to the river and then had to climb back up, in a move that cost me the win in that race. It felt good to get another shot at this hill, this time in a much less frustrated place in my mind, but my body was really starting to hurt and part way up the climb I turned around and there was Tony, no more than 30 seconds behind me! I had blown by him 4 miles back, but since that time I had lost my pacer, started to slow quite a bit, and now he was about to catch back up to me.
This was one of those very clear points in a race that I knew would be the decisive point. Seeing him that close sent a shot of adrenaline through me and I knew that this would either be the thing that was able to propel me ahead for good or that I was going to give one last push and just not have enough energy left in the tank. Lucky for me when I gave the push there was more fuel there. Almost right away after seeing Tony I sped up a lot and began to feel a lot better. I cruised through the Highway 49 aid station (mile 93.5) with a one minute lead (Same as my lead had been at Brown's Bar), and told myself that I was not willing to let this race come down to the climb up to Robie Point. I was going to run the downhill to No Hands Bridge as hard as gravity would allow and if I still had enough to climb hard up to Robie Point then it was meant to me, but there was no way I was willing to leave No Hands Bridge at the same time as Tony. And so I pushed hard out of Highway 49. About a mile past the aid station you cross a meadow and then begin a 2 mile downhill. Once I got to the downhill I just let my body go. It hurt. It hurt bad, but I just kept speeding up faster and faster. Eventually I was running so hard down this hill that it didn't really hurt anymore. I got to No Hands Bridge (mile 96.8) and was pretty sure I must have increased my lead on Tony, but I still had no way to know (as it turned out I had a 6 minute lead at this point) so I just breezed through the aid station and began the final climb of the race up to Robie Point.
Amazingly I had a lot of uphill strength still. I imagine it was mostly from fear and/or adrenaline. I was able to run the entire climb up to Robie and I heard at the aid station there that I had had a 6 minute lead down at the bridge. Dave had gotten a ride from Highway 49 around to here so he joined me for the last mile of the run. I was almost certain I had it wrapped up as soon as we hit the pavement (1.2 miles from the finish), but I was still looking behind me for several minutes to make sure Tony didn't have one more surge in him. Finally with less than a half mile to go I fully relaxed and fully accepted that I was going to win. And with that I let all of the stress flow out of my body almost instantly. Just seconds earlier I was looking over my shoulder and dwelling on the pain and fatigue in my body, but now everything loosened up and I had a huge smile on my face. There were people everywhere and I was overtaken with gratitude for all the support that I had gotten from friends, family, race staff, race volunteers, and maybe most of all the complete strangers who were just out on the course as fans. As you get near the finish there are hundreds of these people and I couldn't help but thank as many of them as possible.
And then I was onto the track for 300 meters of childlike excitement. I was excited to be done. I was excited to be the first one done. I was excited to be finishing faster than anyone ever in this race. But most of all I was excited for how amazingly fun and satisfying my run had been. If I was in to racing with a strategy this would have been the perfect strategy. everything had played out almost perfectly for me. I've had days in which I've been much stronger physically, but I don't think I've ever had a race where I was as strong as this mentally. To struggle for 25+ miles in one of the most competitive 100 mile trail races ever and still be able to find a way to win doesn't happen without some serious mental patience, strength, and stubborness.
And so I made my way around the track with a huge smile on my face. I slapped hands with everyone lined up down the straightaway to the finish and I jogged slowly across the finish line. And I sat. And all the fatigue and pain went out of my body. My Dad and Brother who had been out on the course as my crew all day were there, and hundreds of other people were there. And for the next 2 or 3 hours I don't remember much of anything. I talked to a lot of people. I talked to Tony for a few seconds after a congratulatory hug at the finish. I would have liked to talk to Tony for hours about his experience. Hopefully we'll get a chance to do that sometime in the future.
The smoke still hasn't completely settled from this, but now my life is pretty much back to normal. I'm back to Alaska. Back to work. Still haven't been able to run yet. Maybe try to get out for 3 or 4 miles tomorrow. I'm not really sore still, but very tired in my legs. The swarm of attention from media, friends, and strangers has been shocking. I knew Western States had a lot bigger following than any race I've ever run but I really didn't know that it was this much. It's been a little overwhelming at times, but mostly nice to talk with people about this run. I feel like I still need to talk about it a little more to get it worked through my mind and be able to move on. Almost every few hours I find myself drifting back to this race in my mind and I remember some part of the race which I hadn't previously thought about, and often these previously forgoten moments feel really important. I guess after a race like this I might expect this to keep happening to some extent for the rest of my life.
The only other thing I should say is a huge thank you to all of my friends and family who supported me in one way or another for this run. Notably my Dad and Brother who flew out from New York to be my support crew for this one. It was awesome having them out there. Also Dave Mackey, my pacer. It's easy to joke about me "dropping" him and presume that he wasn't that valuable because of that, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I am quite certain I would not have been able to make the turn around in my race had I not had Dave's support. He seemed to know exactly what to say all the time to keep my mind in the right place. It was the ultimate selfless run on his part, one that I will be appreciate for the rest of my life. Also all of the voluunteers and fans out on the course on Saturday. It really was amazing just how many of you were out there. Good stuff. Also to all the racers who lined up and ran this race, specifically Kilian and Tony. It was an honor to race these guys (and everyone else in the race) and I can't wait to have a chance to do so again. And lastly the biggest thanks of all to my girlfriend who was back in Alaska for this one, but who gave me more support and strength in this endeveor than I would have thought possible. I'm one lucky man to have had all of your help and support. Thanks.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
It Doesn't Get Much Better Than That
Obviously I have a lot to say about my day yesterday. First though I shall catch up on sleep tonight and fly back to Alaska tomorrow morning. And then I'll try to post a full race report sometime in the next couple days. This one was EPIC. Unlike any race I've run before. Then again, they're all like that in their own way.
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