I worked hard preparing for this marathon. I wanted to do really well with a goal of BQ for 2009. All winter I trained hills, increased my average run to 10 miles (with a 13 mile medium-long run mid-week). Things were looking good, then 3 weeks from Boston I strained my hamstring during a cool down. The strain forced me to miss my last long run (the Dizzy Daze 50k), and as a result my final long run was 5 weeks prior to Boston.
By the time Boston hit, I was just happy to be healthy enough to run. Alec and Ric were both joining me on this trip, so I decided to have as much fun as possible and not worry about resting up for the actual marathon. Friday we hit the expo, the aquarium, played catch at the park, worked out in the hotel fitness center and had dinner at Fenway park, under the bleachers during a game. Saturday we did some siteseeing, worked out again then made our way to Cambridge for a gathering of friends.
We were up early Sunday morning to help Brooks organize high school kids into cheering squads for the Women’s Marathon Olympia Trials. The high schools were competing against each other for three prizes: each a complete outfitting of their track team for the year. Our team was a small school from New Hampshire. 6 kids, the coach and two parents had taken the 3 am train to Boston to try and win a prize. Coming from a small, rural community, they had little funding for their team and have had to hand-patch their track uniforms for the last several years. The Brooks prize package was a huge deal for them. They were the first high school to show up. The kids and parents were dressed head-to-toe in Brooks/Hansen colors (red/yellow/black), they had painted their faces, glittered their hair added beads and leis. We started our quest for the prize by parading up and down the course, trying to get the crowd warmed up. Right before the marathon start we lined up in “our” spot, feeling good about our chances. Then the other schools came…. the big Boston schools. Our little team felt their prize slipping from their grip as 50-60 kids per school descended on us. Drums thumping, horns blaring. Still they cheered on, in the cold, doing their best to bring victory to the Brooks runners. After the trials, and hugs and best wishes we went our separate ways. The kids from Masenic headed back to New Hampshire. Ric, Alec and I headed to the Brooks post-marathon trails party.
The party was a blast. It was held in a retro bowling alley next to our hotel. Brooks provided free food, beverage and bowling to all of their guests. I got to meet several ID members and Alec and Ric bowled along side marathon legend Joan Benoit. We finished the day by attending the BAA sponsored pasta dinner. The food was good but nothing fancy, I’m glad we went though.
I was up early and heading for the buses to Hopkinton at 6:30. I was amazed at the long lines through the Boston Commons, but chatted with several Maniacs I hadn’t met before so the time passed quickly. Just as I was getting ready to board the bus, I ran into Steve Yee, Chris Warren and T.P. We sat together at the back of the bus and spent the hour-long ride catching up. I hadn’t talked to Steve or Chris much since Yakima last year and I had never met T.P. When we got to the athletes village I wandered for a minute or two then stumbled across Maniacs Marc Frommer, Brain Pendleton and Ami Yanni. Maniacs must have a some super sense that allows them to find each other, because even with over 30,000 people in the Village, I’ve quickly found the main group of Maniacs both years. I had just settled in when the call came to head for the starting line. I miscalculated how long it would take to change into my racing gear and check my drop bag. As a result I got to the starting corrals late and couldn’t work my way up to my starting corral before the gun went off. Once again, I was stuck in with the charity runners. I really didn’t mind too much. I was actually tired from a busy week of siteseeing and knew I wouldn’t be running fast, so I decided to just enjoy the ride. It was quite a ride, too! The weather was perfect (60+ degrees and sunny), the crowds were huge! The entire course from Hopinkton to Boston was lined with spectators at least 3 deep. They were screaming and cheering. Music was blasting out from all corners. There were the official aid stations and many more ad-hoc aid stations offering oranges, popsicles, chocolate, beer. My favorites were the oranges and the popsicles. I made sure to take an electrolyte tablet every five miles. I was running better than I expected and on track for a 4:10 or so marathon. Unfortunately I forgot to take an electrolyte at mile 20 and by the time I crested Heartbreak Hill, it was too late. I cramped badly at mile 23. I was completely immobilized in the middle of the street. Somehow I managed to make my way over to the curb, put my hands on my knees and proceeded to get really sick. I knew there was no way I was going to continue and run. I also knew that I had come too far to drop out… I only had 3 miles left. After what seemed like an hour, I started to hobble towards Boston. First it was barely a walk, I made it to an aid station, took two electrolytes and some water. Soon my hobble became a brisk walk, then the walk turned into a slow jog. Before long I was running again and turning the final corner on to Boylston. I spotted Alec and Ric, ran to the side to give them a high five, then ran across the finish line.
After the race we walked down to Fenway park for dinner, then Alec and I took the long way home with a stroll through Back Bay. Just before we came to our hotel we saw the last 5 people finishing the marathon (somewhere around 9:00 p.m.) Alec was thrilled he got to see the first and last place finishers.The next morning we rented a car and drove to Newport. We had a great time touring the mansions and taking in the harbour side sites.
It was a great trip. Great weather, great company and good running. I’m already qualified and booked for next year.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Des Moines Creek 6 Hour Trail Ultra
I have been intrigued by set-time events for the last year. I’ve had a hard time wrapping my mind around running a 50 mile ultra, but running for 12 hours somehow seems more doable. I have tentatively added the Ultracentric 12 hour (Dallas in November) to my 2008 race calendar, but thought it would be wise to try a 6 hour first and decided if I even like the set-time format. With that thought in mind, I signed up for the Des Moines 6 Hour Trail Ultra on March 1st.
My drive north to the race start was miserable. Heavy rain and wind made visibility next to zero. Early in the morning I had packed my car with every article of clothing imaginable. I had a raincoat, thermal coat, vest, tights, long-sleeve shirts (both heavy and light weight), shorts, three pairs of gloves, two hats, three pairs of socks, two pairs of trail shoes and one pair of road shoes. I also had my Nathan hydration pack and a hand held water bottle. I packed a drop box full of Sports beans, pretzels, Ensure, Gatorade, BodyGlide and BioFreeze. I was prepared! I learned last year that trail ultras can vary greatly and not to assume any level of difficulty or support. I reached the race start and parked in a soggy, muddy meadow just as the clouds parted, revealing a glorious late winter sunrise. Given the present conditions, I decided my bright orange Brooks running skirt, black Brooks long sleeve Runderwear shirt, Black Maniac singlet, gray Brooks Cascadias, and orange/pink paisley Dirty Girl gaiters would be just right (topped off with gold hoops and champagne diamond studs, of course). If the weather changed, I’d pass by my car every 4 miles and I could change.
Right before the race start, the race director explained the race. Everyone would run a 4 mile loop, when the clock ticked down to one hour remaining runners would be allowed to continue on a 1.1 mile short loop for the remainder of the race. Only completed loops would count and you could drop at any time. Loops completed at the time you stopped would be your official result. After one loop was completed (either long or short) there would be no DNF’s, just shorter distances in the results. I already decided I liked that format. There was no pressure to complete any set distance.
I ran the first loop slowly. I didn’t know what to expect for terrain and didn’t want to waste energy I may need later in the day. The first 2 miles wound up and down through a wooded ravine. The footing varied greatly: sand, mud, nicely packed dirt, rocks, roots and logs. There were a few steep inclines and gentle down hill sections. The next 2 miles twisted and turned through an old housing development. All the houses were gone, but ghostly stairways would peek out of overgrown shrubbery. Remnants of foundations would jump up out of the mud and grab unsuspecting runners. Roads from nowhere would appear from underneath blackberry brambles then conclude in a jumble of broken concrete. These obstacles proved to be much more treacherous than the roots and rocks of most trail races. At several points there were drop-offs that had to be navigated. I took special note of which drop-offs had dangerous footing at the bottom, and which ones provided safe landings. I completed the first 4 mile loop in 45 minutes, grabbed a granola bar and started out on lap two. I felt a little more confident, ran the flats faster, walked the up hills with more purpose and started to come up with pet names for the obstacles. I finished seven 4-mile loops before I was diverted onto the short loop. I managed to complete 2 short loops before crossing the finish line in 5:58. I racked up a total of 30.2 miles. I’m not sure how I placed, but only 6 people ran the entire 6 hours. Most dropped out after completing the marathon distance.
I really enjoyed this type of race and am looking forward to trying a 12 hour later this year, although I don’t know if I can wait until November.
My drive north to the race start was miserable. Heavy rain and wind made visibility next to zero. Early in the morning I had packed my car with every article of clothing imaginable. I had a raincoat, thermal coat, vest, tights, long-sleeve shirts (both heavy and light weight), shorts, three pairs of gloves, two hats, three pairs of socks, two pairs of trail shoes and one pair of road shoes. I also had my Nathan hydration pack and a hand held water bottle. I packed a drop box full of Sports beans, pretzels, Ensure, Gatorade, BodyGlide and BioFreeze. I was prepared! I learned last year that trail ultras can vary greatly and not to assume any level of difficulty or support. I reached the race start and parked in a soggy, muddy meadow just as the clouds parted, revealing a glorious late winter sunrise. Given the present conditions, I decided my bright orange Brooks running skirt, black Brooks long sleeve Runderwear shirt, Black Maniac singlet, gray Brooks Cascadias, and orange/pink paisley Dirty Girl gaiters would be just right (topped off with gold hoops and champagne diamond studs, of course). If the weather changed, I’d pass by my car every 4 miles and I could change.
Right before the race start, the race director explained the race. Everyone would run a 4 mile loop, when the clock ticked down to one hour remaining runners would be allowed to continue on a 1.1 mile short loop for the remainder of the race. Only completed loops would count and you could drop at any time. Loops completed at the time you stopped would be your official result. After one loop was completed (either long or short) there would be no DNF’s, just shorter distances in the results. I already decided I liked that format. There was no pressure to complete any set distance.
I ran the first loop slowly. I didn’t know what to expect for terrain and didn’t want to waste energy I may need later in the day. The first 2 miles wound up and down through a wooded ravine. The footing varied greatly: sand, mud, nicely packed dirt, rocks, roots and logs. There were a few steep inclines and gentle down hill sections. The next 2 miles twisted and turned through an old housing development. All the houses were gone, but ghostly stairways would peek out of overgrown shrubbery. Remnants of foundations would jump up out of the mud and grab unsuspecting runners. Roads from nowhere would appear from underneath blackberry brambles then conclude in a jumble of broken concrete. These obstacles proved to be much more treacherous than the roots and rocks of most trail races. At several points there were drop-offs that had to be navigated. I took special note of which drop-offs had dangerous footing at the bottom, and which ones provided safe landings. I completed the first 4 mile loop in 45 minutes, grabbed a granola bar and started out on lap two. I felt a little more confident, ran the flats faster, walked the up hills with more purpose and started to come up with pet names for the obstacles. I finished seven 4-mile loops before I was diverted onto the short loop. I managed to complete 2 short loops before crossing the finish line in 5:58. I racked up a total of 30.2 miles. I’m not sure how I placed, but only 6 people ran the entire 6 hours. Most dropped out after completing the marathon distance.
I really enjoyed this type of race and am looking forward to trying a 12 hour later this year, although I don’t know if I can wait until November.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Carlsbad Marathon
My first marathon of the year was uneventful (a welcome relief after several difficult marathons in 2007). Mr. Hawk and I flew into San Diego the Tuesday before the race and headed straight for Yuma, Arizona to catch some sun. Yuma was sunny, but the Santa Anna winds were kicking up the whole time we were there (up to 35 mph gusts). We spent the days before the marathon working out at the World Gym, running along the river and lounging by the pool.
Saturday morning we drove to Carlsbad, selecting the scenic but longer route through the mountains to see the damage from last Falls wild fires. We arrived at the ocean in time to pick up my packet and meet some Maniacs for dinner at a great Italian place in old Carlsbad.
Sunday morning I woke up extra early because I selected the early start option, blasting off at 6:30. It was a good choice. Unlike last year, driving to the start took 5 minutes. I quickly found Karl since there were less than 200 early starters and promised to run with him through the early miles, hoping to pace him to a 4:15 finish. We started off well, although maybe a bit too fast. Mr. Hawk met us at mile 4 and I was already warm so I stripped down to my Maniac singlet and handed him my long sleeve shirt. Much to Mr. Hawks relief, Karl decided to keep his “throw away” sweater for another mile or two. Having Karl to chat with (and with lots of catching up to do since our last marathon at Haulin’ Aspen) made the long, uphill miles pass quickly and painlessly. We reached the halfway point right on target for a 4:30 finish, then Karl started having a few side stitch problems. I felt like I was just warming up so I continued on without him. I picked up my speed a bit, hoping to still get that 4:15. I felt really good the entire race and got a real mental boost out of seeing the elites several times during the out-and-back sections of this race. I finished in 4:17 with plenty left in the legs. The next morning I didn’t even feel like I had run a marathon, so Mr. Hawk and I went out for a little 4 miler on the beach. All in all, it was a perfect week away. I got lots of quality training in and a nice long run that I could count as marathon number 21.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Seattle Marathon
After Boston last year, I made the tough decision to focus on running lots of marathons this year instead of running just one or two at maximum effort. As I expected, more frequent marathons meant my pace slowed considerably and I found myself firmly in the 4:20-4:30 finish times by mid-summer. I felt frustrated (even though I knew this would happen) so I turned to 50ks and adopted the more laid-back attitude of trail runners. I really enjoyed my new running world and found that even with slower times, I was making respectable placements in my age group. I approached Seattle (my first road marathon since July) with one goal: HAVE FUN. I also had two “it would be nice if it happened” goals: get my 2009 BQ and a PR. I really didn’t think the last two were much of a possibility since all of my training has consisted of a slow marathon or 50k every 2-4 weeks with lots of easy runs in between.
It turned out to be a great weekend in Seattle. One that I’m sure will become one of those “Boomer Legends”. I’ve attended enough Boomer gatherings to know it’s best not report on them, and everyone else has given their version anyway, so I’ll skip directly to my marathon report….
Race morning was cool and clear. I wore a black Brooks long sleeve tech top, yellow Maniac singlet, black skirt, Brooks Adrenaline 6’s in copper and blue Smartwool socks (I decided to wear the dorky ankle-length version to protect my ankles from chip-strap chafing). I left my hair loose and finished off the look with diamond studs and white gold hoops.
As usual, when the starting horn sounded, everyone went off way too fast. I got caught up in the momentum, but I was feeling good so I decided it was best to go with the flow and not risk getting trampled. The first hill was hard since I didn’t feel adequately warmed-up. The tunnel was horrible: all the walkers were crowded around the aid station and it was impossible to grab a cup, plus the smell of old car exhaust made me sprint towards open air. Once out of the tunnel, the cool breeze of the lake swept over me and I felt great. I hit the half way point around 1:52: much faster than I expected. I was starting to sweat so I reached into my pocket to retrieve an electrolyte tablet only to discover I had left them in the hotel room. Eek! I knew this meant trouble down the road. Sure enough, after topping Galer hill I felt the first twinge of a cramp in my quads. I cursed my legs and told them “we’re finishing this race and running the whole way, so buck up.” I forced myself to keep turning my legs over even though the pain was getting worse. Then it started to migrate: left quad, right calf, left hamstring, right arch, left toes etc….Something would seize, then let up as I kept forcing a quick cadence through the Arboretum. I looked at my watch, but couldn’t think clearly through the pain and couldn’t tell if I was on track for a BQ. I thought briefly about stopping, then decide a little cramping never killed anyone so I forged ahead. I flew down the last hill towards the stadium and suddenly all the pain went away. I crossed the finish line in 3:59:10. I got my 2009 BQ out of the way but missed a PR by a few seconds (my PR is 3:58:46). I finished 21 out of 402 in my age group. And, in spite of the horrible cramping, I had FUN!
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Autumn Leaves 50k
I entered this 50k at the last minute as a result of a DNF at a 50k in October. That DNF was haunting me AND I wanted Seattle (Nov 25) to be my 20th race of marathon or greater distance, so I needed a redemption race.
The race morning weather was perfect: 30 degrees and pitch-black at the start, requiring me to wear a headlamp for the first time ever. By mile 9 the sun was trying to come up but we were blanketed in the fog, mile 20 saw the sun in all it's glory and made for a relaxing and joyful final 12 miles.
I intended to run this race slow... as a last long run before Seattle. Unfortunately, my legs didn't get the memo and started out much too fast. The whole group I was running with went off course at mile 7 due to darkness and did a nice little extra loop through mud and roots. Same thing happened at mile 12. (This was a 5 mile course that we ran 6 times plus a 1 mile out and back at the start of the race). By mile 17 the sun was up enough that we actual stayed on course and it was much easier! I lapped my first group of runners at mile 20, then lapped several others during the last 12 miles. Lapping people gave me an energy burst, but I managed to slow myself down by remembering this was a training run to prepare for my goal race in 3 weeks. I started the last lap and decided to take it really easy and slowed down considerably, walking every mile
for several minutes.
I crossed the finish line in 5:40:00, picked up my finishers medal (nice, handmade piece) and headed home. Last night I received an email for the Race Director with the draft results: I was 3rd woman and 17th overall out of 103 runners. I'm ready to start tapering for Seattle.
Fashion report: Black Triks Marathon Girl running skirt, black Brooks long sleeve tech T, Nathan hydration pack, Smartwool socks, Brooks Adrenaline 7 shoes, Black Brooks hat, gold hoops and diamond studs.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Northface Endurance Challenge 50k
Brutal...humbling...dnf. Biggest lesson learned: NEVER forget to respect the distance.
Very little was published about the course for the Northface 50K. The website described the 32 mile journey from Cougar Mountain to the top of Sauk Mountain and back in very poetic terms, talking about things like trolls living under bridges and owls stealing hats off runners heads. There were no elevation profiles published either. I had hiked a bit in that area and thought the trails were nicely maintained and very runnable, even the long uphill switchbacks could be walked at a good pace. I had already run 2 trail races of marathon distance or greater, so this race looked like the perfect 1st 50k. I couldn't have been more wrong...
The week leading up to the race had been stormy. Autumn had arrived a month early to the pacific northwest. I was prepared, though. I had a great packable rain jacket, wool running socks, wool gloves and nice, new winter tech gear from Brooks. I stocked my hydration pack with extra gels and sports beans in case the rain and cold sapped more than the usual amount of energy out of me. I even tapered for this race, something I rarely do.
Race morning I was up at 3:30 to make the 2 hour drive to Cougar Mountain. I arrived to find the starting area shrouded in darkness and veiled in a heavy mist, sometimes turning to rain. After a quick briefing by the race director (“it's slippery out there, you'll be jumping lots of logs, watch the descents!”), we were off. the course rolled gently until we hit the first aid station at mile 4, then it was a screaming downhill just as the sun was rising. Mile 7 start ed the first ascent of Suak Mountain. It didn't seem too bad at first. The trail was wide, steep and long. We climbed and climbed and climbed. Some of the leading 50 miler's flew past us on their way back down Suak and I got my first view of what real ultra marathoners look like when they descend: downhill lean, arms out like chicken-wings, legs wide and feet splayed in duck fashion. I made a mental note to hike a bit more before my next trail ultra and to practice downhill technique. I was getting tired, but still marching on, then suddenly the course veered off the main trail and straight up the mountain side. What started as a run, then turned to a hike suddenly became an all out scramble. I found myself using my hands to hold onto roots and branches as I climbed upwards. I finally understood the quote on the race shirt “run when you can, walk you need to, crawl if you must.” We reached the summit then quickly descended down the backside.... and on my backside too. The trail was so steep and muddy that I found myself sitting on my heels as I weaved through the trees. Two miles later we were on the valley floor, finally able to run again. I've never been happier to run. The small group I was traveling with were all rejoicing in the glory of actually running a segment of this ultra. Our joy was short lived, however, as we faced climbing Suak Mountain again..... first a hike, then back to scrambling up deer trails. The second ascent fried my quads. They became weak and wobbly, but I still managed to reach the top. Once again, we headed back down, this time toward Cougar Mountain. Our small group had scattered and I was running all alone. I liked it that way. I knew people were all around me, but at the same time could enjoy the solitude of the forest. I reached the 17 mile check point and for the first time looked at my watch. It was 11:00... 4 hours into the race and I was only half way! I had estimated a 6 hour race for myself based on past trail races. That wasn't going to happen, so I called my family and gave them an update so they wouldn't worry. I had one problem though, I had to be done by 2:00 to make it home in time for evening obligations. That gave me 3 hours to cover 15 miles. Very doable as long as we didn't continue to scramble up sides of mountains. Right after I left the aid station we started to climb again. Within 20 minutes my stomach started to act up, then around mile 20 I jumped over a log and when I came down my legs seized up in one gigantic cramp. I was completely immobile. I fished around for an electrolyte tablet hidden in my vest, downed it with a big swig of water and forced myself to continue hobbling down the trail. It seemed like hours passed, but in reality it was only minutes before my legs loosened up again and I was able to resume running. The cold rain had tricked me into thinking I wasn't sweating and therefore didn't need electrolytes. I decided to start popping succeed tablets every 30 minutes and try to restore some balance in my system to fight off future cramps. I passed what I thought was aid station 22... an unmanned water station...an hour after I left the station at mile 17. I looked at my watch. An hour had passed so that meant I had picked up my pace. Finishing by 2:00 seemed a real possibility and my spirits lifted. I ran on, and on and on. 30 minutes later I rolled into the next aid station. Great this must be mile 25! The aid station volunteers were all huddled around a few runners that were dropping out but I managed to get their attention and asked if I was indeed at mile 25. Nope, mile 22! It had taken me over and 1 ½ hours to cover 5 miles. My heart sunk. There was no way I was going to be able to run another 10 miles over this terrain, especially if I wanted to get home by 4:00. I decided to continue on and drop at mile 25 which should put me back at the start line. I struggled through the next 3 miles questioning my decision to stop my run. When I rolled into aid station 25, I gave up my chip and announced my decision to withdraw. Everyone tried to convince me to keep going, including some of the people I had run with earlier in the day. It was hard but I stuck to my decision to quit and headed back to my car.
Later that week, some of the marathon maniacs went out and remeasured the main loop since many of the experienced 50 milers were questioning the distance. The loop that was supposed to be 25 miles actually came in at 28 miles which explained the tremendously long time between mile 17 and mile 25. Somehow knowing I had actually ran 28 miles before dropping made me feel much better about everything.
I've been analyzing my performance and some of the lessons I learned may help others:
You can not predict your ultra time based on past performance. My two previous trail races of 26.2 or greater indicated a 6 hour finish for me. I was not mentally prepared to run for 8+ hours.
Do not rely on race websites for info: talk to people who have actually run the course. This was a new race though, so it wouldn't have mattered.
Never make promises to be somewhere the evening of a long race. I had family obligations and promised to be home by 4:00. As I was struggling along the course I kept weighing the advantages of finishing (even at a walk) against the disappointment of my family if I didn't show.
Electrolytes are still necessary even when it's cold and rainy.
Never check the race results when you DNF. Once the decision is made to drop, don't look back and start playing "what if" games with yourself.
All in all, it worked out for the best. I'm not injured. I am hungry to race again. Also, as I was driving home a huge explosion happened in Tacoma right when I passed. The whole freeway shook and debris starting hitting the pavement. I managed to get through, but the freeway was closed for hours afterwards. If I had finished the race, I would have been stuck for hours on I-5.
Very little was published about the course for the Northface 50K. The website described the 32 mile journey from Cougar Mountain to the top of Sauk Mountain and back in very poetic terms, talking about things like trolls living under bridges and owls stealing hats off runners heads. There were no elevation profiles published either. I had hiked a bit in that area and thought the trails were nicely maintained and very runnable, even the long uphill switchbacks could be walked at a good pace. I had already run 2 trail races of marathon distance or greater, so this race looked like the perfect 1st 50k. I couldn't have been more wrong...
The week leading up to the race had been stormy. Autumn had arrived a month early to the pacific northwest. I was prepared, though. I had a great packable rain jacket, wool running socks, wool gloves and nice, new winter tech gear from Brooks. I stocked my hydration pack with extra gels and sports beans in case the rain and cold sapped more than the usual amount of energy out of me. I even tapered for this race, something I rarely do.
Race morning I was up at 3:30 to make the 2 hour drive to Cougar Mountain. I arrived to find the starting area shrouded in darkness and veiled in a heavy mist, sometimes turning to rain. After a quick briefing by the race director (“it's slippery out there, you'll be jumping lots of logs, watch the descents!”), we were off. the course rolled gently until we hit the first aid station at mile 4, then it was a screaming downhill just as the sun was rising. Mile 7 start ed the first ascent of Suak Mountain. It didn't seem too bad at first. The trail was wide, steep and long. We climbed and climbed and climbed. Some of the leading 50 miler's flew past us on their way back down Suak and I got my first view of what real ultra marathoners look like when they descend: downhill lean, arms out like chicken-wings, legs wide and feet splayed in duck fashion. I made a mental note to hike a bit more before my next trail ultra and to practice downhill technique. I was getting tired, but still marching on, then suddenly the course veered off the main trail and straight up the mountain side. What started as a run, then turned to a hike suddenly became an all out scramble. I found myself using my hands to hold onto roots and branches as I climbed upwards. I finally understood the quote on the race shirt “run when you can, walk you need to, crawl if you must.” We reached the summit then quickly descended down the backside.... and on my backside too. The trail was so steep and muddy that I found myself sitting on my heels as I weaved through the trees. Two miles later we were on the valley floor, finally able to run again. I've never been happier to run. The small group I was traveling with were all rejoicing in the glory of actually running a segment of this ultra. Our joy was short lived, however, as we faced climbing Suak Mountain again..... first a hike, then back to scrambling up deer trails. The second ascent fried my quads. They became weak and wobbly, but I still managed to reach the top. Once again, we headed back down, this time toward Cougar Mountain. Our small group had scattered and I was running all alone. I liked it that way. I knew people were all around me, but at the same time could enjoy the solitude of the forest. I reached the 17 mile check point and for the first time looked at my watch. It was 11:00... 4 hours into the race and I was only half way! I had estimated a 6 hour race for myself based on past trail races. That wasn't going to happen, so I called my family and gave them an update so they wouldn't worry. I had one problem though, I had to be done by 2:00 to make it home in time for evening obligations. That gave me 3 hours to cover 15 miles. Very doable as long as we didn't continue to scramble up sides of mountains. Right after I left the aid station we started to climb again. Within 20 minutes my stomach started to act up, then around mile 20 I jumped over a log and when I came down my legs seized up in one gigantic cramp. I was completely immobile. I fished around for an electrolyte tablet hidden in my vest, downed it with a big swig of water and forced myself to continue hobbling down the trail. It seemed like hours passed, but in reality it was only minutes before my legs loosened up again and I was able to resume running. The cold rain had tricked me into thinking I wasn't sweating and therefore didn't need electrolytes. I decided to start popping succeed tablets every 30 minutes and try to restore some balance in my system to fight off future cramps. I passed what I thought was aid station 22... an unmanned water station...an hour after I left the station at mile 17. I looked at my watch. An hour had passed so that meant I had picked up my pace. Finishing by 2:00 seemed a real possibility and my spirits lifted. I ran on, and on and on. 30 minutes later I rolled into the next aid station. Great this must be mile 25! The aid station volunteers were all huddled around a few runners that were dropping out but I managed to get their attention and asked if I was indeed at mile 25. Nope, mile 22! It had taken me over and 1 ½ hours to cover 5 miles. My heart sunk. There was no way I was going to be able to run another 10 miles over this terrain, especially if I wanted to get home by 4:00. I decided to continue on and drop at mile 25 which should put me back at the start line. I struggled through the next 3 miles questioning my decision to stop my run. When I rolled into aid station 25, I gave up my chip and announced my decision to withdraw. Everyone tried to convince me to keep going, including some of the people I had run with earlier in the day. It was hard but I stuck to my decision to quit and headed back to my car.
Later that week, some of the marathon maniacs went out and remeasured the main loop since many of the experienced 50 milers were questioning the distance. The loop that was supposed to be 25 miles actually came in at 28 miles which explained the tremendously long time between mile 17 and mile 25. Somehow knowing I had actually ran 28 miles before dropping made me feel much better about everything.
I've been analyzing my performance and some of the lessons I learned may help others:
You can not predict your ultra time based on past performance. My two previous trail races of 26.2 or greater indicated a 6 hour finish for me. I was not mentally prepared to run for 8+ hours.
Do not rely on race websites for info: talk to people who have actually run the course. This was a new race though, so it wouldn't have mattered.
Never make promises to be somewhere the evening of a long race. I had family obligations and promised to be home by 4:00. As I was struggling along the course I kept weighing the advantages of finishing (even at a walk) against the disappointment of my family if I didn't show.
Electrolytes are still necessary even when it's cold and rainy.
Never check the race results when you DNF. Once the decision is made to drop, don't look back and start playing "what if" games with yourself.
All in all, it worked out for the best. I'm not injured. I am hungry to race again. Also, as I was driving home a huge explosion happened in Tacoma right when I passed. The whole freeway shook and debris starting hitting the pavement. I managed to get through, but the freeway was closed for hours afterwards. If I had finished the race, I would have been stuck for hours on I-5.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Haulin' Aspen Trail Marathon
I haven't been posting much lately because work and family have been taking all of my time.I have been running though, and had the chance to run a great trail marathon with Karl last weekend. Here's my report:
My second venture into the world of distance trail running was a blast and enough to make me want to focus on trails instead of roads. The Haulin’ Aspen Trail Marathon starts just outside of Bend, Oregon (around 4,000 feet) and climbs 2,500 feet in the first 14 miles, followed by 12 miles of downhill technical single track. I was worried about the elevation at the start and the climb during the race since I suffered greatly from altitude during my road marathon in Bend last summer. I was also worried about the heat. It turns out I had no reason to worry.
Race morning started out cool and crisp as we loaded onto buses at 5:15 a.m. 45 minutes later we arrived at Shevlin Park and stepped out into the 40 degree morning. I was bundled up in a long sleeve tech shirt and Marathon Maniac jacket. We had an hour to kill at the start, but it went fast as Maniacs gathered in a big huddle and talked of races past, present and future. Minutes before 7:00 I stripped down to my race attire: black coolmax running skirt, Marathon Maniacs yellow singlet, black Brooks hat, gold hoops and diamond studs, tomato-red Brooks Cascadia trail shoes and Iron Butterfly Dirty Girl Gaiters in shocking pink. I decided to carry a Brooks handheld bottle of Gatorade because the aid stations were 3-4 miles apart.
Karl and I started the race together, covering the first 3-4 miles at a very conservative pace. I knew the first half would be hard and wanted to warm up properly before starting the climb. We started climbing at mile 2 and it didn’t let up. Karl began using walk breaks according to his pre-race plan and I slowly pulled away from him. I was feeling good, but continued my slow and conservative pace. I caught a glimpse of Karl again at the 6 mile aid station and was pleasantly surprised to see him so close behind me. At mile 10 things turned nasty. The course sent us up a very step forest service road, in full sun and so steep everyone was walking. I remembered the advice I was given on the Ultra Board: walk with purpose, don’t just amble along. I tried my best to walk “with purpose”. I think I did fairly well, but I need to really practice my hiking before my next trail race. My legs don’t do walking. The aid station at mile 12 was in full blazing sun (although temps were still on the cool side) . I thought it would be good to refill my bottle before continuing the climb and was surprised to find I had barely drank any of the contents. Oops, that was a bad sign and I had to make myself start drinking more. Mile 14 marked the end of the climb and we turned onto single track trail for the 12 mile descent to the finish.
The trail was great… fully engulfed by forest and out of the sun just in time to avoid the heat. The downhill felt good but I had to keep my focus sharp since rocks and roots were jumping out of nowhere and taking unsuspecting runners down. I was a little concerned that my legs would tire from so much downhill and I would be stumbling near the end. Fortunately all of my hill training the past 6 months paid off and I was able to stay upright the entire distance. Others were not as fortunate and I saw many bloody marathoners doing their best to keep putting one foot in front of another as they edged closer to the finish. I crossed the finish line in 5:05. Good enough for a 4th in age group.
I grabbed some food, looked for the beer (gone thanks to the half-marathoners) and made my way to the shuttle bus line. I felt incredibly good without the stiffness and aching joints that are trademarks of a road marathon finish. I think I’m ready to tackle the Northface 50k in October.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
