Collegiate Peaks Trail Run - 50M

I had originally planned on staying the night in Buena Vista and making this race into another family trip, but due to a number of circumstances, including the fact that local hotels were outrageously priced, that did not work out.  So instead, I set the alarm for 3:00 AM, to give myself adequate time for the drive over from Manitou SPring to the start of the Collegiate Peaks Trail Run.  I wound up waking up at 2:30, and after 15 minutes of tossing and turning, decided to just get up and go, on 4 hours of sleep.

The drive was uneventful.  I listened to an audio book of The Google Story, while enjoying my breakfast – buttered blueberry bagel, 12 oz. of club soda mixed with 4 oz. of OJ, and about 10 oz. of a chocolate Silk and chia seed slurry.

The early departure and quick drive made for an early arrival.  It was nice that all the pre-race activities were housed in the community center – much better than hanging out in the car for an hour+.  I was able to go through my pre-race ritual in comfort and use indoor plumbing instead of a port-o-potty.  Not wanting to stroll around topless, I also used the men’s room to apply a liberal coating of sunscreen.  As I was doing so, one of the guys waiting in line for the facilities jokingly asked “Hey, you want me to rub some lotion on your back?”  “Thanks, but I’d rather get skin cancer” was my reply, and we all had a good laugh.

Outside, I ran into a few familiar faces before the start.  Christy McLaughlin and Sean Wetstine spotted me.  I looked around for Rachel StClaire as she had posted a picture from the start the previous night, but didn’t see her anywhere.  After the race, I saw her Facebook post, noting that she had thought she registered for the race, but had actually not, so she left and did a training run on her own.

I wasn’t paying close attention while milling about the start, and before I knew it, a voice was counting down – 5, 4, 3…  I barely had time to pull off my shirt and push the start button on the Garmin.  Additionally, I found myself right near the front, where I had no intention of being on a race of this length and a field of this size.  We crossed the road and made our way through the parking lot, where I tossed my shirt on top of my car.  With temps starting out in the upper 30’s, the air was chilly and refreshing so I kept my gloves on till the second aid station.  Over the first few hundred yards, lots of runners went zipping by.  Even over the first few miles, more runners raced by, panting.  I kept thinking to myself “if I can hear your breathing a mile into a 25 or 50 mile race, you’re working too hard”.  I wasn’t foolish enough to give unsolicited advice, but seriously…

It’s tough watching runners pass, even early on in a long race.  There’s always a level of self-doubt.  Should I be going out faster while the legs are fresh and the temps are low?  This time, in addition to 165 races of experience, I also had physical issues to hold me back.  I was concerned about my stiff knees after hammering the downhills on the previous week’s 50K.  My calves were a bit sore having done some training miles in my Vibram 5-Fingers, and running some hard, fast sprints as recently as Thursday.  And my Achilles had also been feeling a bit tight.  All of these held me back to what turned out to be a smart pace early on.  It wasn’t until the 6^th mile that I started to slowly pass people and other than a few that I traded positions with for a while, no one passed me.

The mileage was pretty much spot on at all the aid stations.  I like the accuracy and predictability.  We went through a few short sections of soft sand, but most of the course was nice and firm.  Somewhere around 6.7 miles, a creek crossed over the road.  Most of us tried to gingerly walk over some branches to keep our feet dry, but that didn’t work very well - one foot was partly wet, and the other completely.  They dried off quickly enough and I looked forward to the cool water on the return trip when the temperature would be higher.

There are two main climbs on each loop, but in between, there are lots of small, sometimes steep, ups and downs.  This keeps things interesting, but makes it hard to get into a really good rhythm for long.  Approaching the final peak of the first lap, at mile 18, I was feeling pretty fresh and continuing to slowly pass other runners.  I caught up to Christy and we chatted for a few minutes  Once we topped out, I tried to relax into what I knew was going to be a fast, yet pleasant 7 mile downhill back to Buena Vista and the half-way point.

A short way down, I came up on JT, from Colorado Springs.  We talked for a while about last weekend’s CMTR, and his upcoming Leadman, but after a mile and a half or so, I pulled back a bit, as he was pushing too fast and I knew we weren’t even half done yet.  My decision was definitely correct.  I wound up passing JT for good a short time later, and after the turn-a-round, he told me he was dropping out.

The top part of the decent had been a bit steep and fast, but the bottom part followed the old Midland railroad grade and was perfect for dropping my average pace, without killing the quads or destroying my knees.  I wound up running for a couple of miles with Andy, who was a Leadville 100 regular and as we got close to town, a gal caught up to us.  It turned out to be Christy.  She recovered well after the climb and was making up time on the decent.  I told her she had a shot at her 4:15 goal, and she was pretty close, missing it by just over a minute.

We made it down to the bottom, ran across a pedestrian bridge over the Arkansas, and made our way through the parking lot towards the turn-a-round.  I stopped at my car, swapped out the hand-held bottle for a fresh one, swallowed another Aleve, and gulped down a can of Coke.  I made it through the turn-a-round 3 minutes behind my self-imposed schedule – not bad!  Negative splits would put me right back on goal.

I was feeling pretty good about my time, but knew that climbing back up 7 miles would slow things down, especially now that the sun was out in full force.  The climb wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated, though.  The railroad grade actually allowed for a somewhat reasonable pace without over taxing me.  I was passing other 50 mile runners, who had clearly gone out too fast – payback!  The bottom half was also nice and social, as there were still plenty of runners headed down.  I exchanged a quick “great job” or “nice work” with each of them, but after a while, it got pretty lonely out there.  I ran the rest of the way back by myself – passing a runner every couple of miles, but never running with anyone.  This made the minutes tick by a bit slow, but at least I was able to run my own pace.

All told, I passed 10 runners on the return trip (yes, I was counting), including Sean - that made me feel pretty good.  Despite the fatigue of all those miles and the strong sun, I was still able to throw down some pretty respectable splits for the last 3 miles (8:24, 8:29, 8:08).  I crossed the line in 8:44:05, 14 minutes past my arbitrary goal time, but I felt that it was a good race, none the less.  Top 10 finish.  My knees, calves and Achilles all held up.  And though I didn’t manage to run negative splits, I was pretty darn close, running the second half only 8 minutes slower than the first.  Hopefully this is a sign of continuing maturity on my part, and not just a one-time fluke.

I kept myself pretty well hydrated throughout, evidenced by the fact that after the race, I was able to squat down to stretch and get back up without any light-headedness at all.  Nutrition-wise, I ate 1 peanut butter pack, 2 Honey Stinger Wafers, more than a dozen cookies from the aid stations, along with handfuls of chips and pretzels, and quite a few cups of Coke.  Though I carried a couple of gels with me the whole time, I only used one, about 4 miles from the end.  I swallowed about a dozen S-Caps throughout the day and used a single bottle at a time, filled with Shaklee Performance, and some lemon juice to cut the sweetness.  Along the way, I just topped off with water, which seemed to work well.  Unfortunately, at the last aid station, the volunteer apparently poured Heed instead of water into my bottle.  Even diluted, it was an unpleasant surprise.

I made a very wise move and bought a bag of ice before settling in for the 2 hour drive back home.  I put some in the cooler and split the rest into 2 bags, each strapped to a knee with a long-sleeve shirt.  I kept these ice packs on for over an hour and they made a huge difference.  The next day, I felt almost no discomfort at all in my knees.

The race was well managed and run.  The volunteers, as usual, were wonderful and supportive.  The only slight disappointment was that they didn’t have results at the finish and took 4 days to post them online.  I know, most people wouldn’t get hung up on something like this, but that’s the overly competitive, obsessive, impatient side of me.

The course was absolutely magnificent.  Most of it was on 4-wheel drive roads in the hills, east of Buena Vista.  Constant views to the snow-capped 14’ers of the Collegiate Peaks were stunning and the non-technical terrain allowed for lots of gawking, without the fear of a face-plant.  I would definitely run this race again and recommend it to anyone who wants a scenic 25 or 50 mile challenge.  The overall distance and the splits are quite accurate and there’s a gain/loss of almost 3,000’ per loop.

Cheyenne Mountain Trail Race - 50K

I have run the Cheyenne Mountain Trail Race each of the 4 years since it started – the first 2 times in the 25K, and the past 2 in the 50K.  It’s been a well run race from the very beginning, and is one of the earliest ultras on the calendar in Colorado.

Before the race, I ran into a Doug and Joy, from the Belmar Running Club, as well as Mitch, a Colfax Ambassador who I had met the previous year.  It’s always nice to see familiar faces.

The course is basically a 25K figure 8, with a lollipop section on each of the loops.  The 50K runners run the same course twice.  The pinch point of the figure 8 is right by the start/finish, which allows for access to a drop bag.  This year, they changed the drop bag location by a hundred yards, which made it accessible 3 times for 50K runners.  I took advantage of this set-up by placing 3 bottles in a small cooler, allowing me to quickly swap bottles prefilled with my Shaklee Performance drink, with minimal fill-ups at the aid stations.

This year, I started a little closer to the front, hoping I could avoid any early slow-downs as we hit the single-track.  This turned out to be a pretty good move, but the second part of my plan was to shift it down a notch once we started climbing on the trail so I could pace myself for the long haul.  I didn’t pull back as much as I should have and paid for it with an extra 7 minutes on the second half of the race.

It only took a couple of miles for the runners to get spread out.  By the time I hit the first aid station, I could barely see those in front or behind.  I ran for a bit with Tina Lewis, who was the third place female at the time.  I was pushing just a bit too hard on the uphills, but I felt relaxed on the downhills even early on, as we headed by the start/finish at about mile 7.  I felt like I was moving pretty slow on the next segment, out on the open, eastern part of the park.  By the time we hit the next aid station and started to really climb again, I had caught up to Tina, but the small group of guys in front had disappeared.  I kept calm and ran my own race, as I knew we were only 1/3 into it.  The couple of miles of climbing on the southwest end of the park was slow and taxing, but once I topped out, things really started to feel good.

The next 3 ½ miles were mostly downhill and I was able to pick up my pace considerably, while still allowing some recovery from the uphill effort.  I passed a number of runners here, and with the additional energy of the 2-way traffic, I was having a blast.

My Garmin was off by about ½ mile when I came through the aid by the start/finish and this accounted for some of the 5 minutes that I was ahead of my goal time.  I was smart enough to know that I probably couldn’t maintain the pace, but adrenaline also fed some hopes that I might be able to push the next 15 miles.  The thin morning clouds had all burnt off and the strong sun made it feel much warmer than the mid 60’s that the thermometers were reading.  Luckily there was a pretty constant breeze that kept things from getting too bad.

As I started climbing into the second loop, I was definitely feeling the fatigue of the miles, along with the warm sun.  I was now walking up lots of the small inclines where I had run a mere 2 ½ hours earlier.  I knew I had a bit of a time buffer to work with and I could still throw down some speed on the downhills, so I didn’t worry too much.  But it was becoming quite evident that I was paying the price for the fast first lap.  At some point, I passed Amanda, the second place female.  This gave me a bit of a mental boost, as she is a strong runner and has beaten me on a number of races over the previous years.

I made it back up through the last big climbs on the southern loop and was really looking forward to the upcoming downhill where I needed to make up some serious time.  I was pushing the pace now and feeling pretty good racing downhill.  Approaching the last mile, I saw a runner up ahead and convinced myself that he was number 10.  If I wanted a top ten finish, I would need to catch him.  Running a 7-minute pace, it took me about ¾ of a mile to make up the few hundred yards he had on me, luckily he didn’t have enough in the tank to outsprint me.  My Garmin showed a sub 5-minute pace for the last bit from the aid station to the finish line.  It was probably one of the fastest finishing sprints I’ve ever managed, though only for two hundred yards.

I was quite happy to have beaten last year’s time and broken the 5 hour mark by a couple of minutes.  This was the first real benchmark test since the Run Through Time Marathon in mid-March and showed that I am ahead of last year’s training.  The only slight downer was that I didn’t manage my pace well enough on the first lap and slowed down by 7 minutes in the second.  Had I managed myself just a little better, running negative splits, I think I might have shaved another couple of minutes off my time.  Oh well.  That’s what ultra running is all about – making an endless number of minute adjustments, in search of that ever-elusive perfect race.

In the day or two after the race, I definitely felt my knees and lower back.  This was the price of hammering on the downhills.  I’ve developed pretty decent downhill speed, but I need to keep working on the form to avoid long-term injuries.

Garmin file - http://connect.garmin.com/activity/488760107

24 Hours of Utah 100K

This was going to be a long drive, so I decided to make a really quick trip out of it on my own, instead of dragging the family along and having them suffer in the car.  I wasn’t even sure I was going to run the 24 Hours of Utah 100K until a few days earlier.  I waited to see how I would do at the Run Through Time Marathon the previous weekend; adequate – not as well as I would have liked, but no shin, hip, or other physical issues.  I then carefully broached the subject with my wife and she approved.  I always feel guilty deserting my family, but at least this time Spring Break was just a few days later and we would spend some quality time together then.

So I left work a little early on Friday afternoon and hit the road, hoping that I could make it to the start area before it got too dark.  I normally wouldn’t care, but having never been to that specific area, I had no idea how easy it would be to find.  Turns out, it would have been easy enough even if I had arrived in the middle of the night.  It’s a huge, obvious parking lot, and there were at least a couple of dozen vehicles there overnight.

I ate on the drive, listened to an audio book about the next 100 years of advancements in physics, made one very quick potty stop, and got to the start just as the sun was setting at 7:30.  There was no check-in, or anything else to be done.  I chatted for a few minutes with a guy named Ray.  I later found out that he was the infamous “Hawaiian shirt Ray”, who I have seen at a few races, including the previous weekend’s Run Through Time in Salida.

Before it got too dark, I took a quick picture looking out towards the course and posted it on my Facebook page, surprised at the good cellular reception I was getting.  A short while later, as I was settling in to the back of my car for a night of much needed sleep, I did a quick Facebook check.  Rachel StClaire posted “Looks a lot like my view”, with the same view of the course, from a slightly different spot in the parking lot.  Turns out that on a last-minute whim, she decided to come out to this race, squeezed between two 50 mile weekends, and registered for the 100 miler!  How funny.  Though she didn’t finish the 100 miler, racing 50, 37, and 50 miles, three weekends in a row is pretty darn impressive.  It was great to see her at the start and at various times throughout the day.

With some morning cloud-cover, start time temperatures were not nearly as cold as I had expected.  I started out with a light weight long sleeve top, which I ditched after the first partial lap.  The 100K course consisted of a 1.46 mile out, then back to the start, then 11 laps of 5.37 miles.  Each lap alternated directions, like a washing machine, making the repetition quite bearable.  Given the alternating directions, individuals loosing track of the “correct” direction, combination of distances (50K, 100K, 100M, 24 hours), and solo’s and teams, it was absolutely impossible to tell one’s position.

During the first partial lap, I started running with “Hawaiian shirt Ray”, who I had chatted with the previous night, except that since he was then dressed in street clothes, it took quite a few minutes to figure out it was the same guy.  I also ran and chatted a bit with Junko Kazukawa.  The three of us wound up alternating positions repeatedly over the first few laps as we were running close to the same pace, but taking varied amounts of time back at the start area.

Turns out Junko was also from the Denver area and is going to run Leadville this summer as part of the Leadwoman series.  She was using this race as a warm up for the Mount Fuji 100 miler next month.

Though a short-loop course like this is clearly repetitive, the scenery was absolutely stunning.  We ran around two beautiful buttes, with magnificent views of sandstone creations (both up-close, and many in the far off distance), and the snow-covered La Salle Mountains on the horizon.  There was plenty of diversity for the feet also; some sections of sandy road, rocky trail, and soft, sandy areas that really kept the feet and the body well occupied.  But more than half of the distance was on slick rock; though hard as concrete, the unevenness of the surface reduced the overall impact on the body.  I did notice the following day that my lower back was a bit tighter than usual, probably due to a bit of pounding from running the downhill sections on the hard slick rock.

Cloud-cover the whole morning kept the temperature perfect – I was able to run shirtless, but needed gloves to keep my hands warm.  By noon, the clouds parted and the sky quickly cleared.  The light brought out the spectacular colors of the sandstone, but sunny with temps in the mid 60’s is warmer than I prefer.  The constant breeze throughout the day kept things comfortable, but also covered all my gear back at base camp in a fine layer of sand.  I had to dust everything off on each return, and the shopping bag that had some of the smaller items in it was just full of sand by the end.

It took a bit of mental concentration to go out in the correct direction on each lap and pretty much on every lap there was some section where I almost went off course.  Everything just looked so different each time around; the lighting changed, my pace, people I was running with, etc.  Running another 7 laps for the 100 miler might have been too much, but the 100K was just fine.  It was definitely convenient to have the aid station with all my gear every hour or so.  I only needed a single bottle, which was a good thing since right before the start I realized that the second bottle I brought had a defective valve and would have splashed all over me while running.

As with the last 100K, I wound up eating much less than I had anticipated.  I started out pretty much on schedule, but as fatigue and dehydration caused some nausea and general loss of appetite, it became harder and harder to eat.  I used a couple of peanut butter packs, Honey Stinger wafers, gels and Perpetuem tablets.  I also indulged in quite a few donut holes at the aid station; simple, store-bought, powdered donut holes, but they tasted marvelous.  I must have eaten half the box they had.  I later found out that one of the volunteers actually bought more when he went into town just because I had raved about them.  They also had some great baked potatoes sprinkled with salty spices and lots of handfuls of Doritos and other chips.  I used up quite a few salt capsules and for the first time, tried a pickle; anything to increase the salt intake.

With about 1½ laps to go, this runner coming in the opposite direction says to me “Hey, I think you’re in the lead for the 100K”.  “No way” I respond.  “You better not be getting me excited for nothing”.  As I went into the start for the penultimate time, this gal was coming out, who I had seen a few times already and always seemed to be just a few minutes ahead.  I asked her if she was running the 100K and she said yes.  I started thinking quickly.  If I spent less than a minute at the aid station and pushed the whole way through the last lap, I might have a chance to catch her.  Given how I had been feeling for the past couple of hours (combination of nausea and fatigue), I quickly decided against it.  I had also been planning to rush over to my car and grab my phone so that I could take some pictures of this last lap, as the sun was getting low and the light was perfect.

I hadn’t kept track of my lap times until the previous one, so I now knew that a sub-24 hour finish was almost in the bag – as long as I didn’t completely blow up.  I took a couple of minutes at the aid station to rehydrate, munch on some salty chips, and grab my phone.  Then I headed out, figuring that 1^st place male, 2^nd overall, wouldn’t be all too bad.  I pushed as much as my body would take by this point in the race, but I also snapped a few shots during the uphill walk breaks.  It was tough, and I was thoroughly exhausted, but it was also pretty cool being cheered on by Ray and Junko, as they were running in the opposite direction.

I made my way around the loop and managed to sprint the final ½ mile at a sub 9 minute pace, crossing the finish line in 11:48:24 – a 100K PR by over 21 minutes!  There were lots of congratulations from the race staff, volunteers and spectators.  After a minute of catching my breath, I asked about my placement.  With a few re-reads of their computer screens, they declared “I think you came in first”.  “No way” I responded.  “What about the gal who came in a few minutes ahead of me?”  They looked around quizzically.  Apparently, she was part of a relay team.  The only other solo 100K woman was Junko who was still out on the course, and would ultimately finish 2nd overall.

I did it – First Place!  Granted, there were only 9 solo runners in the 100K, and only 7 finishers, but hey, I’m not going to lessen the occasion with details like that.  I also felt good about running relatively consistent laps, varying by a maximum of 13 minutes.  The first full lap was the fastest, at 56 minutes and the second to last lap was the slowest, at 1:09.  And much of that variation was due to varying times spent at the aid station, refueling, or visiting the port-a-potty.

The sun was setting, the temperature was in the 50’s and windy, so within a minute of finishing, I put on a long sleeve jersey.  A couple of minutes after that, I went to my car and put on pants and a thick, hooded sweatshirt, before returning to the aid station to start the refueling process.  My body shut down so quickly once I stopped running that by the time I grabbed a drink and some pasta, less than 10 minutes after finishing and despite the fact that I was now well clothed (including the hood over my head), I started to shiver uncontrollably.  I went into the tent by the finish line to get out of the wind, but that didn’t help much.  A woman soon took pity on my declining state and draped a blanket around my shoulders as someone else brought me a chair and then covered me up with a sleeping bag.  Just then, they also got the propane heater lit in the tent and within a few minutes the shivering stopped.  It took a few more minutes for the nausea to dissipate.  I slowly drank Ginger Ale and munched on chips before I dared any real food.

I really wanted to stick around and cheer on my new running friends, Ray and Junko, but I was also feeling guilty about being away from my family for so long.  I said many thank you’s to all those who helped during and after the race and climbed in my car for the long drive towards home.  Getting back out of the car, 5½ hours later was less than pleasant, as the muscles seized up considerably.

This was my first race with Gemini Adventures and I think they put on a great event.  They could make some minor improvements.  Posting a map of the course and the start area would be helpful for new comers.  Posting live standings as you come through the start on each lap would be pretty cool.  One of their guys had a four-prop helicopter drone with a camera.  He didn’t get to use it much due to the high winds, but I think that’s an awesome idea.  Having free photos and an aerial video would be much cooler than just another race shirt to fill up the closet.  I would also vote for a buckle for the 100K and above.

These are pretty minor suggestions, though.  Overall it was an excellent race.  Great job, Gemini.

Garmin file:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/466139765 

Black Canyon Trail 100K

Ready for the inaugural Black Canyon Trail 100K, I pulled into the parking lot at 5 minutes to 5:00 and it was desolate.  The shuttle was supposed to start loading in 5 minutes and there was not a car in sight.  What the...

Finally, I saw another car driving around and we pulled up next to each other. The runner in the other car nicely reminded me that the shuttle was to start loading at 5:30, not 5:00. I pulled out my phone, checked the email, and sure enough, he was right. I could have gotten an extra half hour of sleep!  Oh well, better to be a half hour early, rather than a half hour late.

As I sat in the car, watching other runners arrive, my pre-race breakfast consisted of a piece of cake, 3 chocolate silks, a can of club soda and a whole bunch of honey wheat pretzels.  No Wheaties – maybe that’s why I’m not a champion.  Finally, the shuttle bus showed up and we all piled in.  Katrin and Rachael and I said a quick hello as they boarded the bus and soon we were off towards the starting line.  I had met Katrin while running both Silver Rush’s and we wound up finishing within minutes of each other both times.  She introduced me to Rachael, as the three of us were going to car pool together before they announced the shuttle option.

It was a bit disconcerting that the bus driver asked one of the runners to look up directions on their phone. Additionally, she drove in the right lane on I-17, staying behind all the trucks, slowly grinding up the hills.  The important part was that we got there safely.  But by the time we pulled into the high school parking lot, we only had 15 minutes before the start; a bit tight to pick up bibs, drop bags, and do a final potty stop.  Due to the long lines, the grass beneath the bleachers got some extra "irrigation". 

And then we were off!

Once around the track, out through the parking lot, and on down the side streets towards the trail. An 8:37 mile!  If we kept this up, we'd finish in 8 hours!  Yeah, right, even the winner wouldn’t be able to keep up that kind of a pace.  It was so nice and cool.  Though shivering before the start, I wished the temperature would remain that low.

Katrin, Rachael, and I ran side by side for the first few miles, chatting about races, past and future.  Rachael eventually dropped back, but I was too stupid to do so, even though I had promised myself that I would take this one nice and easy, ensuring that I would finish, as opposed to suffering through another DNF.  Leading up to the race, I had told myself clearly "do not try to keep up with Katrin!" My wife is right; I'm a lousy listener, even when it comes to listening to my own advice.

Running with someone and making small talk just makes the miles zip by. Before I knew it, I looked down at my watch announced to Katrin "hey, we've only got two marathons to go!" We laughed about how crazy that would sound to others, including most runners. I wound up staying on her heels for about the first 20 miles, before the little voice inside my head finally screamed loudly enough "slow down!"

The course was lovely; desert valleys with a variety of cacti vividly lit by the rising sun.  As noted in the pre-race emails, it was pretty clear that there would be no shade. The course wound its way generally southwards, but with lots of twists and turns, following all the drainages that fed the main canyon.  My favorite parts of the trail were the crossings of the Black Canyon Creek.  The water was a welcome relief, as was the visual break from the desert terrain above.

So what about the tendinitis that had me limping in pain after a 2 1/2 mile run the previous week? Well, after taking 9 days off of running, visits to the physical therapist, shaving my legs, and getting Kinesio taped up, this was going to be the test, and a pretty big one at that - 62 miles!

I was pleasantly surprised that I could feel no discomfort at all, at least not for the first 6 miles. Then I started feeling just the slightest twinge. It built up slowly, but never became outright painful.  I took a couple of Aleeve's, just in case, but they didn't seem to make a difference. By the time the mileage got up in to the 20's, I had to stop a couple of times to stretch the calf and the shin. At one point, I was laying on a rock by the side of the trail, with my leg bent completely under me. Two runners came up the trail with shocked looks on their faces, thinking that I must have fallen as I was crumpled up into a pretzel.

Upon explaining my situation, I got up and continued running, with no real improvement in the tendon.  Fears of another DNF started to cloud my mind.  I could power through pain (which I wasn't quite feeling yet), but I didn't want to cause serious damage to the tendon, requiring a lengthy recovery.  By the time I hit the marathon mark, the shin actually started to loosen up, or was it just my imagination? Nope, it was genuinely feeling better!  Within the next few miles, it got considerably better - not quite 100%, but maybe 90%. I could definitely deal with that.  A few more miles and the left shin felt just as good as the right one! I found a new cure for tendinitis - just power through beyond a marathon, and the body either heals itself, or at least gives up on the complaining.

From miles 20 through 30, I ran a bit with a guy named Dave, a teacher from Phoenix. But I ran most of it on my own, as the morning was wearing on and the temperature rising.  The forecast was for a high in the upper 80's – a full 10 degrees hotter than when I fell apart at the Coldwater Rumble just 3 weeks earlier.  Unlike the tendinitis issue, I had some control over the effects of the heat, so I couldn’t afford to let that be an excuse again.  I tried my best to keep hydrated and not push the pace too much; there were no visions of a podium finish this time.  I also tried a different approach.  For the past couple of years, I’ve been racing shirtless.  Not to show off my non-existent upper body.  Just because it’s light and free, and I don’t have to worry about nipple rub.  This day, I experimented with wearing a loose-fitting, long-sleeved hiking shirt and a safari hat.  I hoped these would keep the sun off and provide an opportunity to cool off by wetting them down periodically.  I think the experiment worked, but early on I was reminded of one of the reasons to go shirtless - my nipples were rubbed raw. Band-Aids wouldn’t stick at that point due to the sweat, so I relied on big glops of Vaseline, reapplying generously at every aid station.  The shirt pockets were also super handy for carrying a map (which I never had to use) and extra snacks.

At about mile 30, just 10 miles since she had disappeared into the distance, I saw Katrin up ahead. Was I running too fast? Was she slowing down?

I finally caught up to her within the next mile.  We were at the half-way point! She was looking strong as ever, but was offering assistance and water to an older runner who looked like a zombie. There was another guy with him, guiding him on a slow death march down the trail. I offered to help, but my bottles were full of Shaklee, so I couldn't pour them on him to cool him off. Luckily, we were less than a mile from the next aid station.

After being assured that we could do nothing more, Katrin and I ran on, reflecting on how scary the guy had looked; pale, with a blank, dazed look in his eyes. I’ve been bad, but not quite that bad. At least I didn't think I had ever looked quite that bad. As we approached the aid station, two volunteers were already heading in to help the suffering runner. I hope he made it out safely. There but for the grace of dog…

While I enjoy the solitude and self-reflection of running alone, running with Katrin made the miles roll by so much faster. We slowly reeled in one runner after another and as we headed towards the out-and-back aid station #7, we passed another female runner.  Soon we came upon a gal with a forest service patch who took a picture of Katrin then put the camera down as I came by. "Am I not worthy of a picture" I joked. "Maybe, but she's the first place woman" was the reply. Wow, I was now running with the number one female!  How stupid was that?  What happened to taking it easy, not fighting the heat, and ensuring a finish?  It was now the hottest part of the day and we were just about to head into the longest climb, with the farthest distance between aid stations and I was chasing the first place woman!

At the aid station, I drank lots of ginger ale on ice to replenish the fluids. Then I dumped the remaining cup of ice down my shorts - cooled me off, but for the first few hundred yards, I was waddling like a toddler with a full diaper. Katrin had taken off quicker, so it was about a mile before I caught site of her again, and another to catch up.

I wound up eating much less than I anticipated on this day.  I left behind a number of gels and peanut butter packs at aid station drop bags, as I had my pockets already full.  I used some of the Hammer Perpertuem tablets for the first time during a race and they seemed to work fine.  Ultimately, hydration was so much more important than fueling; I just concentrated on getting the fluids in.  I also found that in the latter part of the race, I tend to switch to plain, cold water from the Shaklee Performance.  Thank goodness they had lots of ice at all of the aid stations!  Had they not, adequate hydration would have been nearly impossible.  During the longest, hottest stretch, I took a 16 ounce bottle of water with me, in addition to my two 20 ounce hand-helds.  While this was definitely a smart thing to do, the extra water bottle had been sitting in my drop bag, out in the sun.  It was too hot to be drinkable, but was usable for pouring on my head, down my back, and just rinsing my mouth out.

I had some minor stomach issues at times, but the effect was mainly a reduction in food intake.  That, and a bit of turbo propulsion; luckily, there were no other runners behind me.  I also hit the S-caps from early on and used about 20 of them throughout the day.  My body was definitely craving salt.  I enjoyed lots of pretzels at the aid stations, and even a chicken salad sandwich (which the volunteers wisely kept in a cooler).  The best treats, however, were the chunks of baked potatoes that I would dip into a bowl of salt – yum!  Ultra runners have the opposite issue of most Americans – we can’t get enough salt in our diets.

After catching Katrin yet again, we stayed together till the end.  She had some stomach issues for a while too, and thought she might hurl, but luckily recovered towards the end.  We knew she was the first place woman since aid station #7, but never knew by how much.  She was constantly looking behind her, expecting to be passed, especially during the stomach issues, but it never happened.  She wound up finishing a full 45 minutes ahead of the next female.

I can’t thank Katrin enough for all her support this day.  I would have been at least a half hour slower had I not stayed on her heels and in the end, since she knew she had the first place female position in hand, she graciously hung back to allow me to finish ahead of her.  Now that’s a true champion!  And luckily I’m comfortable enough in my manliness (or lack thereof) to allow a woman to allow me to finish ahead of her.  Had it come down to an actual sprint between the two of us, I would have easily been on the losing end.  It was pretty cool to see her cross the finish line in first and be interviewed afterwards, not that I had any part in her success, but just being along for the ride was nice.  I’m looking forward to some upcoming races, though I’m not sure I can keep staying on her heels, especially on the 100 milers. 

UltraSignup had 76 runners registered, with Katrin ranked 11^th, me 31^st, and Rachael 40^th.  We all exceeded those expectations and Rachael did it despite running an extra few miles!  In the end, only 42 runners crossed the finish line, out of the 65 that started.  Rachael just made the cut-off by minutes.  Apparently she got lost and tacked on some unexpected miles after the second to last aid station.  Now that’s determination!  If I had gotten that lost, that late in the race, in the dark, I would have just laid down and quit.  She’s a real trooper.  I look forward to running with her at more races, especially Bryce.

I can’t say enough good things about Aravaipa.  They managed to put on another incredible race.  The course was well marked, though not quite as thoroughly as the McDowell and Coldwater courses; this might have helped those who got lost after dark.  The volunteers were amazing.  At every aid station, there was someone waiting to take my bottles, fill them with ice and water, get my drop bag, pour me many cups of ginger ale, etc.  I didn’t eat too much of the aid station food, but the choices seem to be pretty consistent across their races.  The ice was a huge lifesaver and they also had indispensable items like duct tape, sun screen, and large tubs of Vaseline.

All of Aravaipa’s races are reasonably priced and for those who would like to save even more money and already have closets full of shirts, they offer a $10-no-shirt discount.  Plus, you get great quality, downloadable pictures for free!  How awesome is that?

Having a drop bag at every other aid station was perfect. I was able to have a few needed supplies, including a headlamp, waiting for me, instead of having to carry these things the whole way.  I also appreciated that they set up a shuttle to the start.  While Katrin, Rachael, and I were making plans to carpool, hopping on a shuttle bus and not worrying about when your carpool driver is going to cross the finish line reduces the unnecessary stress.

I would easily recommend this race to anyone.  There’s something nice about a point-to-point course, though it was not at all easy.  A net elevation loss of almost 2,500 feet sounds good, but my Garmin showed over 4,600 feet of gain in between.  My mileage was 62.3, which is not far off of what was expected, though at aid station # 8, the remaining distances that we were given added up to 64.  That was not very good news, and thankfully, it was inaccurate.

Coldwater Rumble 2014

2013 was my best running year yet; most overall miles (2,100), marathon PR (3:00:06), 50K PR (4:33), longest run (66 miles), 2-3rd place finishes, etc.

The plan was to start 2014 by building on those successes.

Since the 50 mile McDowell Mountain Frenzy in the beginning of December, I hadn't run more than 7 miles at a time, averaging only 20 to 30 miles per week, but I did have some great training runs; broke the 7:00/mile pace for my lunch time run, ran a 6:44/mile pace for the 7 mile Belmar Club training run, and broke the 6:00 mile barrier on my sprint intervals.  Despite the extra pounds I put on over the holidays, I was running faster than ever and was hoping these successes would make up for the lack of mileage.

The first race for 2014 was to be the Coldwater Rumble 52 miler in Phoenix. I had actually contemplated doing the 100 miler, simply drawn by the lure of another belt buckle, but "settled" for the double marathon. My friend Rick Valentine was smart enough to drop down to the 50K, but I wanted to start the year off big.  I did - BIG Mistake!

I made a trip out of it, taking my youngest daughter, Amy, and visited my parents and sister.  The night before the race, we went out to the New York Pizza Department and I had the ideal runner's pre-race dinner - pizza, gooey cookies, and lots of ice cream.  I'm sure this had nothing to do with the following day's disaster.

The 100 milers started out as I was still getting my stuff together. Every time I watch longer distance runners start before me, I feel like a wimp, opting for a shorter distance. I really wanted to head out with them.  Only 48 miles more, and I could get a nifty belt buckle to double my collection. It was so tempting, but even I'm not stupid enough (barely) to jump into a 100 miler at the last minute.

Milling around before the start, this guy came up to me and asked "hey, are you Adrian?" Apparently he had seen my name, picture and results online - not sure why I would have stood out.  After a few brief pleasantries, Dan stated "you have a shot at winning this, don't you?" It turned out to be just the jinx I didn't need, but at the time, it planted an intriguing, yet dangerously unrealistic seed in my mind.  Maybe, if I had a super day (like the successes of my short training runs) and everyone had a mediocre day... just maybe, it might be possible. After all, the really good runners were tackling the 100.  Maybe…

7:30 came, and we were off - about 40 or 50 of us for the 52 miler.  It was quite nice for a while.  The temp was only around 60 and there was a thin layer of clouds blocking the sun.  The climbs weren't as bad as I had anticipated, requiring very little walking.  My goal was 8:30, which translated to a 9:42/mile pace.  As I approached the second aid station, at the far end of the main loop, and near the high point of the course, I was feeling great; effortless 9:35 pace and easy terrain, other than some loose sandy areas. Of course, I was only 11 miles into a 52 mile race, the sun was now out, and the temperature was rising, but that dream of victory was still peaking its way out from the back of my mind.

The return part of the loop was even better and slightly downhill. Part way back, I heard a "hey, Adrian" from behind.  It was Rick Valentine (who I had met on the URoC Vail race). He was running the 50K and was cooking! Though he started 30 minutes later, he caught me by mile 16 - that would equate to an almost 7:30 pace and he was in 1st place! I ran with him for a 1/4 mile or so, as we chatted about upcoming races and the stupidity of my 7 mile training plan for a 52 miler.  I soon let him go and settled back into my comfortable pace. When I caught a glimpse of him later, coming back from the start/finish, he wasn't looking quite as peppy.  Turns out, he dropped out around mile 22. I guess that 7:30/mile pace just wasn't sustainable.

By the time I went through the Start/Finish myself, I had dropped my pace to 9:29 and was still feeling great.  Maybe Dan was right. Maybe I did have a chance at winning. Maybe I could pick up the pace a little and finish closer to 8 hours.  That would ensure me a spot on the podium, maybe even the top spot. It all seemed so reasonable and achievable at the time, much like the proverbial mirage in the desert.

The first half of the second loop was only slightly slower than the first, but it took more effort than I realized. The sun was beating down and the temperature climbed to 80. I was trying my best to hydrate and was now hitting the S-caps to maintain the electrolyte levels.  Looking back, I should have been more pro-active with the hydration earlier on – lesson learned (hopefully).

Back at the far aid station (mile 31), they told me I was in 5th place.  That was awesome, but my pace had slowed to 9:40, and I was noticeably walking more of the uphills than I had on the first loop.  I kept moving though and passed a couple more 52 milers, bringing myself up to 3rd place by mile 35! Victory was within my grasp, with only 17 miles to go.  Unfortunately, my pace was continuously slowing. By mile 37, I was mostly walking, and by mile 39 I was walking slowly. By the time I stumbled across the Start/Finish line at mile 40.5, I had been re-passed by a couple of runners and dropped back down to 5th place. Normally, 5th place with 12 miles to go would be a great position for me, but I was suffering and knew that it would take me at least 3 hours to complete the race, rather than 2 under normal conditions.  I was also torn by the knowledge that I was missing out on time with my daughter and my parents.

The only other time that I had considered dropping out of a race was at the NorthFork 50 miler last summer, but the only way out was to continue on the course, so I did, and eventually recovered reasonably well. One of the great things about a race course with multiple loops is the energy you get from the cheering crowds as you pass through the start/finish.  The downside is that it gives you an easy option of bailing out, which is exactly what I did.

Reluctantly, I decided to throw in the towel and take my first DNF after 160 races.

I was pretty dehydrated by the end. The salt was caked on so thick, you could have drunk a margarita out of my belly button (if you didn't mind the occasional hair). The race officials and volunteers tried to motivate me to continue, given that I was still in the top 5 and had plenty of time to finish, but once I had made up my mind, there was no starting up again. In the infamous words of Kenny Rogers – “you got to know when to fold 'em”.

As I sat by the start/finish aid, gulping down cups of iced Ginger Ale before I could stomach some snacks, I watched other runners come through.  Some were finishing the shorter distances.  Others were 40 miles into the hundred. I felt like a bit of a loser wussing out so easily, but as I sat up from the bench and nearly fell over from light-headedness, dropping out didn't seem like such a bad decision.

When I started running, I kept all the medals and race bibs, but after a while I stopped, as I didn't have enough wall space.  This is the first race that I've kept the bib from in years.  I even pinned it up in my office so Every time I look up, I'll be reminded of this day. Some say success breeds success.  I say that a colossal failure can bread success (hopefully). This DNF is going to push me to train harder and longer, and take future races that much more seriously. I will not DNF again! (at least not for quite a while). I will be back in Arizona in only 3 weeks for a 100K - that ought to be a good test. Let’s hope an arctic front moves through that weekend, so I don’t have to suffer again.