Big Sur International Marathon

It was beautiful, it was hard, it was fun, it was inspiring. It was epic. Touted as THE must-run marathon, Big Sur did not disappoint. Everything from the host city to the finisher’s medal was top notch. It had the excitement of a big marathon and the quaintness of a boutique marathon. The expo was huge, the pasta dinner gourmet and the transportation seamless. The host hotel was wonderful and within walking distance to many attractions. Every meal was better than the last, every hour more glorious than the previous.

Words cannot describe the Big Sur experience. Photos can come close to conveying the beauty, but there is something about the energy of the Taiko Drummers as their beat carries your legs up Hurricane Point that is beyond description. There is something about the serenity of hearing the notes of a grand piano weaving along the rugged coast line 1/2 mile before actually seeing the instrument. Even the most fatigued legs come alive again when an icy cold breeze appears out of nowhere, cutting through the warm sunshine.

I’ll be back at Big Sur, but it will be awhile. It’s not one to be run year after year, but like the finest wine, this marathon has to be savored in memory.

Mt. Si 50k

Poor planning on my part had me heading to the little town of Snoqualmie for a 50k trail race early Sunday morning. Poor planning because I thought an ultra would be the perfect way to cap off my 100 day challenge and I had 2 to choose from for the weekend: the Lumberjack in Port Gamble on Saturday, or Mt. Si on Sunday. I
miscounted my days and picked Mt. Si thinking it would fall on my 100th day. As the conclusion to the 100 day challenge neared, I realized my mistake but decided to stick with the Mt Si Ultra anyway. It ended up being an excellent mistake.

Saturday was cold and windy. I wasn’t feeling good and ended up taking lots of naps in my car in between Ric’s softball games. I tried my best to eat well in preparation for Sunday’s run, but everything I ate left my stomach in knots. I finally gave up and had a light dinner of toast and cereal, then crawled into bed… half expecting to be even sicker in the morning. Surprising I woke full of energy before the alarm sounded. I quickly grabbed some coffee, my pack and a cookie then jumped in my car for the 90 minute drive to Mt Si. I arrived to a chilly but sunny start line. When I checked in I was handed a beautiful fleece vest as my “race shirt” and invited to hang out in the school hallway where it was warm. I made myself comfortable then started to watch runners as they arrived. Mt Si offers an ultra but is best known as a trail relay race. The people milling around were young, gazelle-like creatures, not the usual gnarly ultra runners I’ve come to love. They were in matching shorts and singlets, with bright and shiny racing shoes. Even their sunglasses were extra sleek. None of them had hydration packs or fuel belts or even hand held water bottles. I was feeling slightly intimidated and out of place, but soon enough we were called to the start line and I noticed the relay runners had gone elsewhere.

For every race I have a plan. Sometimes the plan is to go all out and see where I stand with speed, sometimes it’s to be social and visit as many of my friends as possible, but usually I pick an element of distance running that I want to work on. Last race I concentrated on fueling, foot care and steady pacing. This race I planned on continuing with the steady pacing and further refine my walk/run transitions. Sometimes I get so wrapped on one particular element that I forget some other important detail. For this race, the devil was in that neglected detail: the course map. I knew the footing was small, round gravel most of the way….some forest dirt and some larger chunks of rock. No roots, no mud. I’d also been warned of a substantial hill with loose footing at mile 16 that almost everyone walked. Because of the trail conditions, I elected to wear road shoes and gaiters. I planned on carrying a running backpack with extra clothes and food, and carry water in my hand-held (easier to fill than a hydration pack). For my main focus, the walk/run transition, I planned on implementing a ¼ mile walk followed by a ¾ mile run for the entire distance and see if I could hold a steady sub 11 minute per mile pace.

The race started well and I ran the opening mile before settling into my plan. Within the first mile we hit a very steep steel staircase that lead up to a bridge across the river. The entire pack came to a standstill as we negotiated the steps, one by one. After that it was smooth running and I felt a bit silly as I started to lag behind because of my walk break plan. People started to steadily pass me as I dug deep to stick with my plan. 5 miles into the race my pace was starting to slip by a few seconds. I was getting winded and broke a sweat even in the cool morning temps. 10 miles into the race we hit a hill. It was steep enough to require switchbacks but not all that bad. I walked it anyway thinking “that wasn’t too steep, those silly relay runners must be the ones who have been spreading the “hill” rumor.” I gave myself a pat on the back for conquering the monster hill on the course but was also noticeably fatigued once I picked up the run again. My pace had slipped to 11:30 minute miles. I started to wonder if I was still sick from yesterday or not recovered enough from my Pac Rim run. I continued to stick to my plan and tried my best to bring back that 11:00 minute per mile pace. Then mile 15.5 hit with a screaming steep descent through rolling rocks the size of softballs. I picked my way through at a walk so I wouldn’t turn an ankle or twist a knee and wound up at an aid station at the bottom. I’d only had one gel at that point, so I grabbed a boiled potato, dipped it in salt then turned around to go back up the way we came. O.K. THIS WAS THE HILL and it was a bugger. I started passing a few people on the way up, crested the hill then picked up my run again. My legs were light, my lungs strong.

I was zipping along…. Cruising at a sub 9 pace at mile 16. I started picking off everyone who had passed me earlier. A man in front of me caught his toe on a rock and went tumbling. I helped him up, made sure he was uninjured (just a few scrapes) then continued on. It became apparent that we were now cruising down a nice steady grade, and since this was the “back” on an “out and back” course, that meant that the whole first half that I had struggled through was uphill. I hadn’t even noticed…. I just thought I was fatigued. The devil in the details that I missed by not studying the course map. My confidence was renewed, my pacing was back to below my plan, and I was reaping the benefits of my painfully slow first half. I decided I had earned the right to skip a walk break or two, so I modified my plan to 2 miles of running, ¼ mile walking. Even with the modification it was hard for me to slow down. Eventually the trail leveled out at mile 27. The sun was out full force and the trail was exposed. I started to feel dizzy and realized I had only eaten 3 gels, 2 cookies and a small boiled potato all day. I tried to eat another cookie, but it was too late, my stomach was churning. I downed a salt tablet, and that helped immensely.

With 5 miles left the relay runners started passing us in both directions. I have never seen such respect as that paid to the ultra runners by the sleek gazelles as they passed us during the run. The respect turned into awe as we neared the finish. The young and flashy had gathered at the finish, cheering each and every ultra runner across the line. It was amazing. I know longer felt intimated by them, but instead I felt like a hero. I crossed the line and was handed a beautiful glass metal and treated to a buffet of fruit, bagels and chocolate milk. It was a beautiful end to my 101 days of running.

Pacific Rim One Day

This is my year of 100's. My 2010 goals are to complete 100 pushups, 100 consecutive days of running, a 100k race and a 100 mile race. I completed the 100 pushups, I'm 3/4 of the way through the 100 days of running, so now.....

I entered the Pacific Rim 1 Day with a goal of running 100k. The nice thing about fixed time races is that you can run however far you want, then call it a day. Last year I chose to run 50 miles and discovered the footing of the course and the frequent transitions from walk to run caused some hip and ITB problems. This year I trained to handle the transitions better. I also decided to implement a “walk-the-short-ends, run-the-long-sides” strategy from the very first loop. Essentially, this was just a training run and I wanted steady pacing, good foot management and frequent refueling to be my focus.

I arrived an hour before start time on Saturday to ensure a close parking spot. The forecast called for sun turning to rain in the late evening. If I parked close, I could use my car as my aid station if the rain came in before I was done. My preference, though, was to have my stuff along side the course for easy access. Everything was packed into plastic tubs. One contained food and beverage. The other had my foot care kit, sun screen, tummy settlers, chafing supplies, my cell phone, a head lamp and rain poncho. It did not contain any pain killers. If pain developed I wanted to feel it and figure out a fix….not mask it. I also had a duffle bag of clothing: tights, long sleeve shirts, shorts, singlet, jacket, gloves, hats, socks and 3 pairs of shoes. I hauled my load over to the village of aid tables and tents and carefully arranged things near a lamp post. I thought the light from the lamp post would come in handy as night approached. This year I did not bring a chair and I avoided setting up near anything I could sit on. I have discovered on really long runs, once you sit down, you’re in trouble. As they say “beware the chair!”, so I eliminated the temptation. I had just settled in when two women approached me.

“Where’s your crew?” they inquired.

“I don’t have a crew. My family is coming later, but they’ll just stop by the course once or twice to say hi. The rest of the time they’ll be at the hotel.” I have a problem asking people to crew for me. I can’t imagine a more boring task than to sit around and cater to a runner for 15 or so hours.

“We’ll crew for you!’ offered the ladies, as they picked up my tubs and arranged them under their tent. For the next hour I watched as they gathered up a few other lone runners… and suddenly we were all family. 4 runners with 2 wonderful angels bustling around making sure we had what we needed before the race started.

The race started promptly at 9. I originally planned on walking the first loop (exactly 1 mile), but automatically started off at a run once the race commenced. I ran that first mile, then reeled myself in as we started the second loop. The remainder of the race I would proceed as planned: walk the short ends, run the long ends. Committing myself to this strategy would pay big dividends later in the race: when the body was content to walk the mind would push to run as soon as we crossed a bridge, signaling the start of “the Long End”.

The race runs primarily on gravel, with a few short sections of concrete, one concrete bridge and one metal bridge. At first glance you would call it flat, but by mid-day you discover there is a hill called Mount Sacajawea several hundred yards past the timing tent. By evening a second summit appears… Son of Mount Sacajawea. Round and round we went, passing through the timing tent every mile, then past the official aid station and finally past the personal aid stations. Every mile I tried to get something into my system. Water during 1 loop, Gatorade the next loop, a few grapes, ¼ of banana or a bite of donut the next mile. My crew opened an Ensure and a bottled Starbucks Mocha and set them along the course for me. Every few miles I would take a good swig out of one of the bottles. Lunch time brought turkey sandwiches and change into shorts and singlet.

I hit the 50k split in 6 hours, 15 minutes – a nice, even, effortless 12+ minutes per mile. I changed shoes when I started to notice a little ache in the inside of my ankle. I decided to switch from guidance shoes (Brooks Infinity) to neutral shoes (Brooks Glycerin). The ankle pain disappeared almost immediately. I kept with my fueling plan of something every mile, but now anything sweet seemed completely unappealing so I stuck to grapes and boiled potatoes dipped in rock salt. During one loop the girl running next to me was craving sugar and fat… the solution? A Snickers bar wrapped in cheese! I could barely look as she gobbled down her snack, but for her it was like rocket fuel and once finished she charged down the trail like it was her first mile. I hit my 50 mile split in 10:25, a 10 minute PR and still a nice, even 12+ minute per mile pace.

We were now almost half way into the race and runners were starting to crumble. Two of my friends, regular 100 mile trail runners, had come to Pac Rim to get in an “easy” 100 miler. Neither had run a fixed time race before and assumed it would be much easier than a trail race – flat, lots of support, easy access to your stuff, the ability to call it a day whenever you please – but that’s just the kind of thing that makes short-loop courses so hard. Both dropped out at the 50 mile mark claiming it was much more difficult than trail ultras. Other runners were having foot problems. The slip of the gravel was causing gardens of blisters to appear. I trudged on, repeating my mantra of “be the ball”. I’m not sure why, but that always works for me…. It’s a zen-like thing. At mile 51 my brother, son, and nephew came out to walk a loop with me. I was more than happy to continue with my walk/run strategy, but since they had driven over an hour just to walk with me, I decided it would be selfish to do anything else. We started to walk the first loop and I was surprised at my brothers strong pace. He kept me at 14 minutes per mile for a full 4 miles before gathering the kids and heading home Once they departed I grabbed a piece of pepperoni pizza and a cup of flat Coke before picking up the run again. The transition after such a long walk break was easy and that, in itself, was a major victory. I completed my 100k after they left in 13:45. My over all pace had slipped to 13 minutes per mile due to the long walk, clothing and shoe changes but I was still feeling incredibly fresh.

I had met my goal of completing 100k, but I had another goal I was working on: running 100 consecutive days of at least 3 miles per day. It was 10:45 p.m. I could stop and call it a day then run 3 miles at home tomorrow, or I could amble on at an easy walk and run 3 miles after midnight. I chose the latter. When the clock struck 12, I started running again putting in 4 miles. At 1 a.m. I had completed 70 miles. I briefly toyed with the idea of continuing on and hitting the magical 100 miles. I still had 8 hours, and at my steady pace I had a good shot. I wasn’t ready for it, though. I wanted my first 100 miles to be special. I wanted my family there. I want some bling for the effort. This race only offered a t-shirt and a hearty pat on the back. I wanted a buckle.

70 miles…. steady, even pacing….. no injuries….. no blisters….some energy still left in the legs and feeling no more fatigue than I felt after my first marathon. My body is adapting. I am hungry for more.

And I so I stopped.

Call of the Wild 50k

Sunday I went out for a light 3 mile jog, then Monday I hit the race course again. This time it was for the Call of the Wild 50k Ultra Marathon along the Sammamish River trial. Once again I opted for the early start so I could get home at a decent hour. I felt well rested and didn’t feel at all fatigued by Saturdays marathon. I packed real food to eat, fearing that Saturdays gels caused my brief illness. I had planned on practicing my run/walk strategy during this race, without concern about pace or overall time. I started by walking a mile with Jill (she was injured), then continued on with a .75 run, .25 mile walk for the remainder of the day. The first out and back was lonely with few runners. The fog was dense, wind was cold, but no rain. At mile 18 we passed by the start/finish, then did another out and back in the opposite direction. By this time the sun was out, lots of people were on the trail, both race participants and recreational runners, cyclist and walkers. The trial was no longer lonely. The first 18 mile were flat, the next 8 miles rolled a bit but was more interesting. After I hit mile 20 I decided it would be nice if I could get a sub-6 hour 50k. Doing so meant I had to maintain a steady pace the entire distance while practicing my walk breaks. I finished in 5:54. Really nice considering I paced myself in such a way that I could easily kept going. I wasn’t tight or particularly tired. It was a nice confidence booster leading up to next month 24-hour race.

Cupid's Classic Marathon

Race #3 of 2010 gave me another opportunity to practice mind over matter when the going gets tough. This race was held on mid-morning on Saturday along rural roads and highways. The course was a double out and back with races being offered from every distance between 1 mile and a marathon. I opted to take an early start (9:30)….most marathoners did since we are accustomed to early morning races. The forecast called for cold rain and that is exactly what we got. It was hard to leave to warmth of my car for the startline, but once we got going it was fine. Jill Hudson and I ran together until the turn around of the first out and back. We hit a busy 2 lane highway with no shoulder at mile 4 and had to run single file. After the turn I sped up a bit, then a bit more. I passed mile 11 (and the start/finish line) well below marathon pace (first time that’s happened since October). At mile 11.5 my gut gave out. Huge waves of nausea overcame me and I slowed to a walk. The way the course was set up, we had to turn around again at mile 12 then proceed back to the start/finish at mile 13.1 before heading out for one more lap. Jill caught up with me and convinced me to try and reach the 12 mile turnaround, then quit at mile 13.1 if I had to. She is wise. I forced myself to pick up my walk a bit. Mile 12 found me running again, mile 13.1 I was too stubborn to quit and at mile 14 I passed Jill again. The second half of the race went surprising well. The rain had picked up, as had the traffic along the highway. I kept my pace deliberately slow to make sure I finished. When I passed by the finish line (for the 3rd time) I noticed that the course would be long. That was OK, an extra mile never hurt anyone, it just effects your finish time. I completed my race in 4:40 or so. I had no idea how that compared to other runners since so many races of different distances started at once. When the results were published, I managed to be the first masters woman.

Lake Youngs 50k

My second race of 2010 was run at one of my favorite parks: Lake Youngs Watershed. The course at Lake Youngs is just shy of 10 miles almost entirely on soft forest trail. There are just enough hills (900 feet of elevation gain per loop) to keep the muscles working and to get the heart rate up every once and a while.
The forecast for race day was upper 40’s and sunny. The start was scheduled for 8:00am, so I knew it would be chilly. I chose to wear my yellow long sleeve Seattle Marathon shirt, Capri tights, tie-dyed green gaiters and my hydration pack. When I arrived there was a heavy drizzle falling from the sky. I knew it would clear soon so I didn’t bother to throw on a jacket. Pigtails instructed us to run the first loop counter-clockwise, then after that we could go either direction. After completing 3 loops we would be sent back out for a final 2+ miles to complete the 50k.
I started off in the back. I’ve run this course enough to know that a huge downhill waits just 1/3 of a mile into the race. Flying down that hill on cold muscles could lead to an injury that would end the day. When we hit the hill I gently jogged down, then picked up the pace before hitting the first uphill stretch. I had already planned on adding lots of walk breaks for this race as prep for my longer races later this year. I’m convinced that training for walking breaks will greatly improve my 50-100 mile races. The first loop went well. The rain kept coming but the company was good and the running was easy. I came into the aid station at mile 10, refilled my water, grabbed a few candy bars and set out to run lap 2 clockwise. Running the opposite direction was a nice change and it gave me an opportunity to see all the runners that continued around the loop in the original direction. The biggest problem with the clockwise direction is running up the big hill 1/3 of a mile from the start/finish. It’s a bugger. I finished the 2nd loop soaking wet and feeling pretty wonky. I spent a few minutes at the aid station grabbing some trail snacks, then once again charged into the woods for another lap. Less that ¼ mile into lap 3 I was hit with terrible stomach cramps. I was chilled to the bone and the rain was starting to flood the trail. I turned around and told myself “this is stupid, I’m quitting and heading home to a warm bath, 20 miles is far enough today”. I started to walk back to the finish line to turn in my number. Somehow, and I’m not quite sure how it happened, instead of turning in my number and seeking refuge in my car, I found myself back on the trail and running. Somewhere deep inside I was able to muster enough willpower to override the incredible magnetic draw of the car and get myself back out there to finish. I ran the last loop strongly even though I was trudging through a lot of water. I completed the loop and found it easy to return to the trail one last time and get those final 2 miles.
I didn’t stick around long after the race. I was really cold and just wanted to get dry and warm. This race was tough for me, but I gained so much confidence to in my ability to will myself through the tough parts…. It was a morning well spent.

First Call to Run Marathon

OK, so much for taking a little time off. My friends were gathering again, it was fairly close by and FREE!!! How could I say no? I packed my car with everything I could possibly need. The weather forecast looked ominous: heavy steady rain, high winds, low 40’s. I decided to do battle with the distance wearing thick Capri tights, thick hooded tech shirt, winter running hat and a disposable poncho. I found Jill Hudson at the start line and decided it would be nice to run at least the first half with her. Today’s course would be a double out-and-back on the mostly flat, paved Sammamish river trail. The rain was steady and we did have a nice headwind, but it was pleasantly warm. Just a few miles into the race, the rain stopped and the sun peaked out. It was shaping up to be a good day. Add to that, I felt strong and rested, surprising considering how tired I was just 2 weeks earlier.

Jill and I ran a steady 5 miles, then took a brief walk break. We picked it up again when Brian Pendleton joined us and kept cruising happily along. Somewhere around mile 7, Jill commented that she thought we missed the turn-around. Sure enough, we had run ½ mile too far. As a group we decided to run to the 50k turn around, then correct the distance on the second out and back. Because this was a Fat Ass, and none of us were in a position to win the marathon, it seemed like a workable solution. We reached what we thought should be the 50k turnaround and there was no marker for at that point either. It became clear that someone had stolen the cones that marked the turn around points for the various race distances. How annoying! At mile 8 we turned and headed back to the start line, warning people heading the other direction that the markers were missing.

After the turn around, we settled into a slow, steady pace and decided it was time to plug into our ipods. Good friends are like that…. You enjoy each others company, but you don’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter. Rocking out in our own personal world, but running side by side was the perfect way to pass the miles. We did manage to stop for awhile and walk with some of the usual marathon suspects: Brian, Jim, Monte, Ric. 5 minutes of howdy-dos and we were ready to go again.
We reached the start/halfway/finish line with 16 miles on our GPS systems. I took the time to grab a cookie and refill my water bottle and we were off again. We needed to run 5.1 miles out but decided to error on the side of going long, so we turned at 5.25. The final 5.25 miles took a toll on Jill who was just returning to marathoning after a series of unpleasant injuries. I promised to stick with her and make sure she got to the finish line. We walked a bit more than in the first 20 miles but still had a lot of fun. We finished in 4:53.

I really enjoyed this course for a small wintertime marathon and will return for future events when the goals is to get a long run in with a few dozen of my buddies.