Time over distance

I knew that last week was going to be impacted in terms of running time, but things on the personal side ended up even more hectic than expected between dealing with a bout of teen angst, feline dental surgery, and a 4am visit to the emergency room fitting in runs became both challenging and de-prioritized. I've heard that during a taper or at times of reduced mileage it is good to increase (or at least maintain) the level of intensity. I can't say that I did this as a matter of pre-cognated planning, but it did sort of work out that way.

The formula for pace in the title of this post normally implies that with limited time, the number of miles I will get in will drop proportionally given my normal 8-8:30 pace. I knew that I would not be getting a long run in since we would be driving down to San Luis Obispo to visit my wife's half-sister in college over the weekend. I was thinking that I could get 30 miles in, with 40 being a stretch if I could somehow eek in a 6th run somewhere. Monday evening I only had time for a bit over 5 miles, but my legs felt pretty "peppy". On shorter runs I will occasionally dip below 8 min/mi pace, on really good days I might even dip into the mid-7s. I only rarely go much lower than that unless I am doing dedicated speed work. I was mildly surprised to see that I was staying below 8s without much effort and pushed the last mile at a 7 minute pace to come out at a 7:37 average. Tuesday I did 8 miles at work and, again, my pace stayed below 8 minute miles the whole time. Wednesday I didn't have time for a run during the day, so I hit the treadmill at the gym which is always a good time to push the pace. I started at 8s and just kept working my way down each mile or so. The last mile of 6 was below 7 minutes with the final 1/2 pushing down to a 6 minute/mile pace. Thursday life intervened and no running was to be done. However, by Friday's planned 12-miler, I was looking at a log of more than 19 miles with an average pace just under 7:44 minutes/mile. This had never happened.

I probably should have just been happy with that. However, I was running a double out-and-back on the very flat Alameda Creek Trail and the wind was very much at my back during the first 3 mile leg. On the way back I realized how much, but I'd already fixed the whole sub-8 thing in my head and so I instinctively pushed it. Continuing mostly into the wind for the next 3 miles, I realized that running into a strong headwind can be a zero sum gain as increased effort results in less and less increased speed, but more and more energy output. I'd passed the point of diminishing returns, but really didn't recognize it until the trail turned out of the wind. For some reason, I wasn't able to really feel the effort I'd been putting out until I was no longer pushing directly against the wind. I could feel the muscles in my legs starting to tighten up as my came around the curve towards William Cann Park. A moment of sanity overtook me as I ran into the park to re-fill my bottle. I reminded myself that I was not in a race and that it really didn't do well to risk injury just to finish a training run in a certain time. I stopped my watch and forced myself to take a couple minutes to stretch and massage. I told myself that if I wanted to try and keep a certain pace that was fine, but pushing limits to hit an overall time goal should be reserved for race day and so I allowed myself this "cheat". My legs thanked me and felt much better keeping an easy, but relatively quick, cruising speed on the return trip with the wind back behind me. In the end I came out at an even 8:00 per mile (not counting the "stoppage time" at the park). My overall pace for the week was still below 8 with a 50K worth of distance covered. If I could cram that into a single run I would know what a near 4-hr 50K would feel like. Given that I did this over 4 days, such an attempt would actually feel like a total collapse on the course at the half-way point :-).

I managed to fit in one final run before the road trip on Saturday morning. Another flat trail run near the gym. It was windy, but not like the day before. This one I pushed hard from the get-go. I knew it would be my last run for the week and I wanted a strong finish for this string of sub-8s. It ended at just under 7.5 miles with a pace the same as my first run of the week. The final stats for the week came out to 38.5 miles with an average pace of 7:48 minutes/mile. It was kind of cool to do a "fast" pace week. However, all of that pushing on flat road and trail was as tough mentally as it was physically. I have to say that, overall, I enjoyed the experience of running less as I was always so focused on pace and time. Also, the lack of hills to break things up and the lack of real trail to provide that mental escape really left me wanting.

Yesterday, I had the day off for Columbus Day. With Dick Collins coming up I decided to get in one last hilly run and also to set a more appropriate pace standard for going into a 50-miler. I did a nice easy 9 miles up Mission Peak. Usually the words "nice and easy" don't go along with a run up Mission Peak. However, I was actually able to take it at what felt like an easy pace the whole time even while maintaining a running gait. There was no heavy breathing and was less than extraordinary given the hills and the warm weather. Running up the peak on a mid-week afternoon is a rare treat and after last week's focus on pace it was so very nice. I actually saw 4 other runners out there as I was coming down which is a pretty high number especially given how few people overall were out. As a final treat, I had a very rare and amazing wildlife encounter on the way down. Coming down the less traveled Peak Meadow Trail, I was suddenly confronted with a mother bobcat and two kittens. The kits immediately shot off into the brush below the trail, but mom stayed planted firmly to protect her young. I stopped too. She remained on the side of the trail between me and where the kittens had gone. She opened her mouth and made some noises, kind of a something between a hiss and a growl, but sounding like neither. I moved slowly along the far side of the trail talking calmly to try and assure her I wasn't interested in her babies. She watched me carefully the whole time without moving until I was well down the trail. She was absolutely amazing; beautiful, powerful and, yet, graceful. So many times, I am such an idiot for not carrying a camera during my runs, but this time takes the cake. However, the experience cannot be replaced and it is one great reminder of why I run trails.

The rest of this week will be maybe a couple light miles, some easy cross training with lots of self-therapy to make sure my PF is good to go for Saturday. Should be a great race with many familiar faces. See you there if you'll be there.

Kinda all over the place

Seasons
Despite the joke about "Spring, late-spring, fall and the rainy week" we do actually experience some minor cyclical climate changes in the Bay Area. Yes, they are incredibly mild compared to what most parts of the country experience; certainly not the sort of weather changes that should keep one from going out of doors. There really is no natural reason to plan a break in one's racing schedule especially when some of our coldest months are what most would consider ideal running weather. However, the cloudy skies outside my window foretell the coming of fall and I foresee the closing of my ultra season. I've done quite a bit of racing this year and I look forward to taking things easy as we move into the final months with the holidays and the my son's basketball season on the horizon. Of course, it's not over just yet. Now that October is upon us, I have two big races to plan for this month. A sort of grand finale for 2007 with Dick Collins Firetrails 50 in less than two weeks leading to the Javelina Jundred two weeks after that. I am also signed up for the Quad Dipsea in November, but that is really just sort of the season capper; have fun and see all the local runners one last time for the year.

Run shuffle
I did my last long run before Firetrails last weekend. Not necessarily because I am planning a real taper, but because my running schedule has basically been dictated by all my other commitments lately. Between work, family, personal obligations and the shortening days, I have just been struggling to keep around 50mi/wk, shuffling runs around to fit in miles. This last week was a good example. I got my Tuesday run in by running to the Toyota dealership to pick my car up from the shop. Wednesday I ended up running into the evening under the light of a big full moon. Thursday I ended up bailing on my planned 8-9 miles first due to work and then stuff at home. I forced myself to pay penance by getting up early Friday and slothing through 4 painful morning miles before my 10.5 faster though hillier miles at the other end of the day. I did my long run on Saturday afternoon because I had scored first-row seats to the 49er game for Sunday and Saturday morning the cats had a vet appointment. Overall, I ended up getting some decent mileage in and the Fri-Sat combo of close to 38 total miles was enough for the legs to feel it. We have a road trip planned next weekend so this will probably be a lighter mileage week. Then, it is pre-race week for Firetrails which will be followed by recovery and prep weeks before Javelina. Let the fun begin!

The beginning and the end
As I mentioned above, I did my long run on Saturday afternoon. I decided to do the first part of the Dick Collins course and then the last section on the way back. As far as familiarity, this part of the course is actually what I know the best. However, I think the start and end sections of ultra races are the most important parts mentally. Most of my "problems" always occur in the middle, but I can't plan for when and where and just need to be prepared to endure. Running the early sections of the course was all about reminding myself of the right pace to set early on and remembering to take the initial hills easy. The first climb is fairly steep leading up to the Brandon Trail, but it is still tempting to want to run it and warm up. The first aid station comes pretty early, but is at the top of the climb and the next AS isn't until about mile 8 at Bort Meadows so if I decide to use just one water bottle, I will need to top it off there. For Saturday's run there is no water at the top of the climb and I have to do a little extra out-and-back to the Bort Meadows group campground for water. Since I had started late (3pm) and wanted to finish before dark, I told myself I would turnaround a little after 2 hours which would either be at the entrance to Redwood or, if I pushed a little, at Fern Dell.
I made it to Fern Dell, but was definitely feeling my legs during the grind back up to the ridge from MacDonald Gate. I was planning to take it very easy up this last climb and not burn myself out, but one of the young hikers I passed decided to charge up passed me afterwards. I gave him a "nice job" and reminded myself not to increase my pace, but after he could no longer maintain I think my subconscious kicked it up a bit to the peak. On the ridge I was going to take it easy and recover when another runner popped onto the fireroad in front of me from a side trail. I tried not to catch him on the ups, but I can't help myself when it slopes down. We actually ended up running together for a bit. He lives right off the trail in the hills and is just trying to get back into running again. His name was Alexander Mayer and he's a theoretical physicist currently working on a new book. He was only doing a short run, but he had a ton of running questions and I think I managed to inspire him to run more. I think if I lived in the hills right there that you wouldn't be able to find a day without me on the trail.
I got to Bort Meadows and re-filled the water bottle again. I actually hadn't drained it and was probably not keeping up on my hydration needs. I didn't actually think about it at the time or I would have downed some extra at the camp ground. I got distracted by another conversation by an older gentleman who was picnicking there with his family. He asked about my running and told me that he had heard of the race in this hills named after some guy. I told him about Dick Collins and Ann Trason before heading back out. It wasn't until I hit the Columbine trail and took a bio break that I realized I was WAY behind on hydration (like florescent yellow behind) and probably on nutrition as well. I ate some Clif Bloks drank half my bottle and decided I was just gonna have to put through to the end. In a way, it may help to have been in this state as the contextual effects of emotion on memory could make it easier for me to recall the final miles during the race in a similar mind set. At any rate, running the final miles is all about setting up the end of the race in my head. Remember where the last hills are; where I can push and where I need to cruise. If I am close to a time goal, I want to have a decent idea about how much longer until the finish so I can know whether I should go for it or just let it slide and enjoy the ride.

Experiment of one ... sock
I've mentioned on numerous occasions that my feet are my limiting factor. I don't get blisters luckily, but I do get occasional plantar fasciitis and sometimes toe and ball of the foot pain. The thing is, it is generally much more common in my right foot than my left. I have been thinking that this is quite possibly due to my right foot being the smaller of the two. I think it is about 1/2 size less based on how trying on different shoes has always felt on the two feet. I have been wondering if a lot of the problems are due to (or at least exacerbated by) my right foot sliding around in my shoe more than the left. It certainly never feels as secure and I often find myself cinching up the laces to try and secure the heal before long downhills. So, I thought, why not try a little extra padding on that foot? Before my run on Saturday, I put one Injinji toe sock on my right foot before putting on my normal trail socks. It definitely felt weird at first to have different amounts of padding on each foot, but I have to admit that the right foot was definitely more secure in the shoe than usual. In the end, I think I have to call the experiment a success because I never really noticed any issues during the run. It wasn't a perfect test since I already had some minor pains in that foot to begin with, but they were certainly no worse at the end of the run than at the start and there was no new problems springing up. I will do some more runs like this before I fully declare the problem solved, but it is definitely looking promising. So, if there is anyone out there in need of a bunch of left-footed toe socks, please let me know.

Looking forward
While many people I know are already planning next season I just can't do so this early even if some races will fill up and limit my options. I submitted my application for the Western States lottery so that could (about 15% possibility) greatly effect my planning for next year. Other than that, I don't know. There are a few races I want to do that I didn't do this year. I have an invite for a spring Grand Canyon R2R2R that is very tempting. I am also considering setting some early season time goals; possibly even doing a road marathon to set a more reasonable PR and then try for a sub-5 50K someplace and maybe a sub-9 at AR50. I am thinking that December I will focus on more cross training, strength and speed work. I know that there is a very big correlation between speed and weight and the holidays are deadly for a sweet tooth like me. I think after Javelina I will give it some serious thought, but for now it is still 2007 and it has already been my best running year by a long, long way.

Itch!

They itch, every last one of them. The one's on my back itch. The one's on my head too. The one at the base of my skull and on my neck. On my elbow, my forearm, back of my right thigh...you get the idea. They all itch. I don't like the itching. It is what has remained after the dull pain subsided. The dull pain was OK. The dull pain was, in fact, good. It was a sign of the fading of the sharp, needle-like pain. Besides, pain I can deal with. There is some modicum of pride in pain. Itching is just plain annoying.

Sunday was the Big Basin Redwoods 50K Trail Run. I ran this same race last year. In fact, this was my first time ever repeating an event. Even though the course had changed somewhat from last year (supposedly a bit more difficult), I was still wondering what I would do for this encore performance. You see, I actually finished this race in the top-10 last year. I like to write that because it looks so good in print. Reality is that there were only around 30 people in the race and since I often come in the top 1/3 in these smaller races, I get to feel like a "real runner" if not too many people show up. That seemed pretty unlikely this year with 60 initially signed up to run. Oh well, I'd have to find some other way to make this repeat run a memorable event.

Last year, I also received 3 wasp stings during this run. It was sort of a common occurrence last summer as I learned that I seem to have that certain something (sweat? heat? smell?) that seems to attract stinging insects. This year, the infamous Big Basin Yellow Jackets made sure it was a run I would not soon forget. The race course for the 50K was to include a 15K loop and a 10K loop each done twice. The 15K loop includes some of the most beautiful trails around. It runs through deep redwoods, has steep, technical downhills, creeks running through it and a most excellent waterfall. However, it seems that our flying friends, Vespula pensylvanica, enjoy the natural beauty as much as we do. In fact, that don't seem to appreciate fast moving hominids traveling through what they view as their territory. Last year they were only to be found in a single location down near the falls. This year, they were much better organized. There first line of defense was just before crossing Berry Falls Creek. They then collected in a larger grouping closer to the falls itself. Finally, in case you made it unscathed through those two sections they had one last area after the falls staked out to sort of say "don't come back". It was a good strategy as many people managed to avoid them in the one or two spots only to be caught in the final trap. A select few made it all the way through unscathed. Me, with my insectal magnetism, managed to collect dermal souvenirs at each location. It wasn't until after the last section that I realized that a few of them were catching a ride on the back of my shirt in order to let me know, over and over again, just how "special" I was.

For a while, the race was a bit like a bad horror movie. Not only could you hear the yelps of other participants up ahead letting you know what you were in for, but after you made it through, you could hear the anonymous yells and even screams coming from the distance behind you knowing what they were going through, but incapable of doing anything to help. The rest of the run through that first loop was as painful as it was beautiful. The stings on my head particularly felt like someone had beat me some form of sharp instrument about the skull. By the time I made it back to the aid station near the start, I had already decided that I was not going to repeat that loop again under any circumstances. I knew I had at least a dozen stings and it couldn't possibly be safe to keep collecting them. I told the volunteers at the aid station that they should talk to Wendell about re-routing. At any rate, I was going to just do loops of the 10K section even though I knew it was the steeper of the two.

The 10K loop went by without any major incident, but it was definitely the tougher loop in terms of intensity. There is one very steep section that seems to go on for quite a while, especially when you don't know where it will actually end. However, I felt during this section that my breathing was becoming labored. In fact, I sort of felt like I was running at elevation. I don't know if it was just all the adrenaline expended or if there really was some reaction to the multiple stings. At any rate, I decided to take Wendell up on the Benadryl he offered when I finally returned to the aid station. He warned me of possible stomach problems, but I assured him that my iron gullet has yet to fail me. He also informed me that the 15K section was now altered to just be an out and back to the creek crossing. I was pretty sure this was after the first location of the wasps, but was assured otherwise. Early on in this section I hooked up with Rick Gaston and Patrick Nolan. It was good to have company at this point and I have to extend some serious thanks to those two guys for making this section simply cruise right on by. The creek crossing was indeed after the initial swarm locale, but the advance squadron had apparently moved on so we all managed the out-and-back without further attack.

We actually made pretty good time heading back up and were heading out on the final trip of the 10K loop at about 4:40 into the race. I recalled doing it the first time in around 1 hour 20. A 6-hour race would be a pretty nice ending, especially on this tougher course with all the extra challenges thrown in. Rick and Patrick had the same idea, and they upped the tempo as we headed into this loop. I kept with them for a bit, but knew my uphill legs just weren't going to keep me in pace. I was definitely feeling some leg fatigue at this point. I'd save it for the final downhill and just try to keep running my own race. It's often the case that I find people to run with in the middle of a race, but generally finish on my own as I like to run within myself in those final miles. Whether I'm in front or behind my fellow runners matters little. I enjoy working through the mental struggle of the final stretch on my own. It's part of the attraction of ultrarunning to me. Even though I couldn't keep up with Rick and Patrick, I didn't really have too much trouble with the steep section. Knowing it the second time made it seem shorter and I made it to the fireroad, it seemed, with time to spare. However, I didn't recall how "rolling" the fireroad was and the final downhill seemed to be taking forever to arrive. Furthermore, I was feeling a bit of dehydration having drained both my water bottles. The Benadryl had worked, but I had forgotten about the other possible side effects, one of them being dehydration. I needed that downhill bad! Then it was finally there. A single track through the woods then back to the road. A sign at the road said 0.9 miles to the park headquarters. With only a few minutes to go, I was nearly ready to give up on the 6 hour goal. However, I couldn't recall whether the headquarters indicated was where we started or if it was the building about 1/2 mile further on. I kept pushing until I could see the bridge that separated the two loops. Less than two minutes to go. I might make it after all! A little kick to the end and I slip in just under the buzzer. 5 hours 59 minutes 29 seconds.

Bonus: Apparently my acceptance of the many gifts from my back and yellow flying companions paid off. In the end only 32 people completed the 50K garnering me my first (and very likely only) top-10 finish of the season.

Tokyo Run

We stayed in a different hotel in Tokyo than usual so my normal run along the Meguro-gawa (river) changed to a route based on city streets. I've run this route before and even added it to the USATF database if anyone is interested. We stayed at the Takanawa Prince Sakura Tower which is actually the first hotel I ever stayed in Japan when I visited about 8-9 years ago. While I didn't bring a camera on this trip, I did a few years back when I ran pretty much the same route as on this trip. At that time, I even remembered to bring the camera with me on one of my morning runs so that I could capture the scenes as I ran through the streets of the Shinagawa-ku of Tokyo. Enjoy!

The route goes up behind the hotels across from the Shinagawa train station. I like to run the little back street as it is more picturesque than the main thoroughfare. Tokyo is an interesting city, mixed with old and new; ancient structures often cit nestled right amongst ultra modern buildings.

This gate is always the first and last landmark on this route which goes along a backstreet before meeting up with a major highway to travel past the Tokyo Tower and sometimes as far as the Royal Palace. I'm not actually if this is a temple or some other site, but it is typical of many such markers.



The narrow, street is lined with sidewalks of rough brick which is common throughout Tokyo. The brick is softer than concrete, but still harder than asphalt. However, running 0n the road here is really not a good idea as they are narrow and these buses fly by at sometimes frightening speeds.



Despite how crowded and busy Tokyo is, they seem to find room for these little parks wherever they can.



The Tokyo Tower can be seen in the distance. I pass it around the 2.5-3 mile point on my route.


I generally head out for my runs around 6:30-7:00am so the city is still just waking up, though you will see that it picks up on my way back.



Just before the 2 mile mark I reach the intersection with the major highway 1. The roads are wider here and so are the sidewalks which is good as it can get busy if I am running late.


The Tower can be seen directly ahead.



And, then, it gets closer.


I can see it directly between the buildings as I pass.


I'm not sure what this place is, but it looks like a very old home that is about the size of a small shack.



One nice thing about running in Tokyo is that you never need to carry water, just a few 100 yen as there are vending machines on nearly every corner. Pocari Sweat is sort of a local version of Gatorade.


As I said, vending machines are everywhere. However so are small shops and very familiar convenience stores such as 7-11 and AM/PM. Familiar from the outside that is, not necessarily within.


As my route curves around, I get an excellent view of the Tower including the massive legs.


This is a gate to a city temple. Very common throughout Tokyo.



On my way back, the local children are starting to head off to school.


The school is along the small back road where I began my run.


Another landmark is a typical city cemetery.


Dodging the kids heading to school is often a challenge on the narrow street. I particularly like the little kids with their backpacks containing bright yellow reflective signs.



Finally, I arrive back at the familiar landmark and a short distance back downhill to the hotel.

The Long of It

"THE STAIRS?!? What the ...." It's somewhere after midnight on Sunday, morning August 12th. I am standing at the base of the Pirate's Cove steps. I am supposed to be at the Muir Beach aid station. The question sitting in my head is simply, "how the hell did I get here?" How did I get here? To answer that now, I need to go back to the start...

But, where to start?

Saturday morning, a little past 6am, people were just beginning to gather at Rodeo Beach for race check-in...

no, before that....Friday, I'd taken the day off work and picked Harry up from his house to drive up to the Hostel near the race start...

no, wait...Thursday night, my bedroom floor is literally covered with running gear and supplies in preparation for....

no, no, let me give the back-story...say, 6 or 7 years ago...

About six years ago, I 'd been working at a startup called Liquid Audio. I began there as one of the first employees in 1996 and it had been one of those crazy rides through the ups and downs of the late nineties "internet era" whose tale is as fantastic in its details as it is mundane in its similarity to the many other such stories told and re-told around the Silicon Valley. Since going into "startup mode" I had significantly less available free time away from the office and had started running more regularly to keep in shape since I no longer had time for the 3-4 mountain bike rides I once enjoyed on a weekly basis. I did miss the trails though, and occasionally, when time permitted, I would take my running off the asphalt and onto the trail for a bit. I always found it rejuvenating to move through a more natural landscape and feel the soft dirt beneath my feet. By 2001, the tech-downturn had started to hit and many companies were already experiencing the (now infamous) "bust" reaction to the Internet "boom". Our company was still limping along, but things had definitely slowed and I found myself with a little extra free time. I started running more and more on trails whenever I could; sometimes even taking long lunches to head over to Edgewood Park in Redwood City for a nice jaunt on the local trails from 3 to 6 miles.

It was around this time that I first discovered Trail Runner magazine. I'd been reading Runner's World for a while, but Trail Runner was fairly new (both on the market and to me). I was enthralled by it, especially the first-person perspective of many of the run and/or race descriptions. In fact, I liked just about everything about the magazine except for, what seemed to me at the time, the over-emphasis on these very long runs. They just seemed so far out of my reach, I hadn't even run a 1/2 marathon let alone a marathon or the unthinkable, ultra-marathon. However, it had definitely captured my imagination. I loved reading the stories of the epic struggles of people completing these events. I researched the history online and was even more fascinated. I remember an ad at the time that read something like "in your dreams, are you an ultra-runner?" My answer was definitely, "yes".

In October of 2001, I ran a 1/2 marathon It took me another 4+ years (and 3 failed training programs) to finally run a marathon. However, the whole time I continued to run trails and to think and dream about ultra-marathons. I really looked at my marathon as just a stepping stone. I mean, who else would run Mt. Diablo and Mission Peak as training runs for a flat road marathon? However, after completing it, I had made up my mind. The next year I would run a 50K. The year after that, a 50M and then I would do a 100 mile run before my 40th birthday. This was my goal. All went basically according to plan in the next year and I completed my first ultra-marathon at the 2006 running of the Ohlone 50K. After that, things sort of went off course, so to speak. My plan went out the window. I ran two more 50Ks that summer and singed up for and completed my first 50-miler in October at the Dick Collins Firetrails race. It went great, but I was struggling with a worsening case of plantar fasciitis. As I took the next two months with nothing but very easy running, I wondered if I had totally messed up the long-term plan. However, what I really learned was a more important lesson about how much running ultras is mostly mental and how you loose less than you think when you take the time to let the body heal.

This year I came back with a vengeance. My running addiction went into overdrive. My initial goal was just to complete the Miwok 100K and see where things went after that. Well, I did that. I also did two 50-milers, four 50Ks and signed up for the Headlands Hundred, a new 100-mile event being put on by my favorite race directors Sarah Spelt and Wendall Doman of Pacific Coast Trail Runs. It shared many trails with Miwok as well as with the Pirates Cove 50K which I had also done early in the year. I finished Miwok feeling like I had more "in the tank" so I was definitely feeling that I could commit to the 100.

As the race day approached, I actually felt like I was as prepared for the distance as anyone can be for their first attempt at such a feat. I had even written up a detailed analysis of the difference between the Headlands course and that of Miwok which Sarah and Wendell had included on the race web site. This exercise plus the past races I had done in the Marin headlands area made me feel like I knew the trails fairly well. The week before the race, I spent even more time staring at trail maps. I was much less stressed at this point than I had expected to be. I even waited until Thursday night before getting everything together. Spread out on my floor was an array of gear and supplies that represented everything I had learned about ultrarunning both on my own and from others. I knew I had more than was needed, but even that was part of the plan. I would be staying at a Hostel just a mile from the start at Fort Barry thanks to Harry Walther who I had met the previous year at a 50K event. We seemed to following a similar path into ultra-running and had run many of the same events over the course of a year.

Saturday morning arrived and we woke around 5am to have some breakfast and make our way to the race start. It was nice being close to the race and not having to get up at 3am for a change. My memory of the start and early parts of any ultra, especially the longer events, is always a bit spotty. As I approach a long event, I tend to go into this mode where I don't focus on anything until I am at least a couple of hours into it. This is the way that I get myself to focus on the hours rather than the minutes of an ultra. I place some "standing orders" in my head and then try to put myself on auto-pilot. In this case, the orders were to go out slow...slower than I had ever before. I'd hit the 50 mile split in around 10 hours at Miwok, I wanted to be a lot slower than that here. I was aiming for between 11-12 hours. We started out, heading across the beach and then the slow (walking) climb up the road section. I was hanging out with Harry and Beat Jegerlehner. Beat is an experience 100 miler who I have run with at shorter events. He and I are fairly close in speed. Harry is normally faster, but was taking it very, very easy at the start here. I unfortunately don't carry a camera on my runs, but others do and here is a photo of early in the race. It's a bit blurry, but you get the point.



That's Harry running point with me behind and Beat back of that. I think he may be running with Chuck Wilson, but I'm not positive. Beat was nursing an injury and decided that he needed to keep it easy even on the downhills so we left him behind once we hit the first bit of trail. Harry hung back with me for some time. However, even though he was going basically my pace, I realized later that I wasn't really running my race by sticking with him and we eventually split up. I normally just find people who are running what I am comfortable with and stay with them for a while. I will then either drop them if I start feeling good (usually on a downhill section) or fall behind if I feel I am pushing more than I should. I ran with a few people, many of whom I had met at previous races. Unfortunately, I am terrible at names and don't always remember exactly who it was I was with. One of the reasons I don't like the idea of using a pacer is that I don't like to always stay with the same person during a race even if they are trying to run my pace. I kind of like to float, sometimes enjoying the company of others and just as often running in solitude. Here, I am obviously enjoying others company.



I don't recall much of the first couple of Aid Stations, but I do remember coming down off the ridge along the coast and heading down the Pirate's Cove steps on the way to Muir Beach. We would be traveling back this way and would be going up these steps twice more during the second and third loops of the hundred. At Muir Beach I felt OK. Some things didn't really feel like they were loosening up as much as they should at this stage of the race and I thought I should feel better given how easy I was taking things. Sarah was at Muir as were many other familiar faces. Will Gotthardt was working there and it was good meet him as we had only met online previously even though he lives in Fremont. After the AS there was a nice, flat even trail before the big climb up the Dipsea to Pantoll. I was familiar with these trails and was rlooking forward to some forced walking time. It was also starting to heat up at this point. I think I always have a tough time adjusting to temperature changes during a run, though I don't know if it is physical, mental or a combination of both.

As it warmed, I felt like I was struggling a bit. I definitely felt the heat, but just kept telling myself to take it easy. I think I was starting to worry about the Bolinas Ridge already, which is not where my mind should have been. I made it to Pantoll with two empty bottles. I ate and drank a little extra and then just headed out, prepping for the ridge. I've run this ridge a few times, but no matter how familiar I am with it, it always seems to go on forever. About midway through, I started seeing the top 50 milers coming back and then Kermit Cuff leading the 100 milers. He looked strong and would go on to win the race in under 21 hours. It was a nice to have a little distraction just before my least favorite section of the entire course. The last part of the ridge is on a narrow, steeply cambered trail through high grass. I don't know anybody that likes to run on it, but I think I dread it more than most. If you wonder why this might be, a picture will demonstrate a lot more than words. Here is a close-up of my leg from one of the pictures above showing my normal running step on flat ground.



I was born pretty badly pigeon toed and my parents did what they could to correct it. I even had to wear a brace between my feet for a while as a child. For the most part, it isn't a huge issue, but my feet still turn in a bit and I tend to run on the outside of my foot as demonstrated above. However, clearly, someone who runs with foot placement such as the above is not going to enjoy a trail that cambers to the outside of his foot. I must have rolled my ankle 3-4 times along that section of trail. Luckily, years of trail running have strengthened the supporting muscles in my ankle enough to compensate for my over-stretched ligaments. But it really didn't help my mental state and I had slowed down quite a bit. Beat caught me on the way back along the ridge and I decided I could use the company so I hung out with him and Jochen who was running the 50.

We arrived back at Pantoll and I was happy both to be off the ridge and to be headed for some downhill running. However, we would be taking a different route back to Pirates Cove via the Heather Cutoff which I had not been on before. On paper, this section looks like good fun. It is a narrow trail that winds down the side of the hill. However, I seemed to have difficulty getting my groove as it was pretty hard pack and the hairpin turns kept me from getting any good speed up. My feet were beginning to hurt, but I promised myself no Advil until I finished the first 50 miles. I broke off from Beat and Jochen on the downhill and was headed along the flat, soft trail towards Muir Beach by myself. I was thinking about the fact that I wasn't feeling as good as I wanted and was going over in my head just how I was going to get myself into and out of the Start/Finish area. I knew all I had to do was start the second half of the race and I would never let myself drop. I just had to get through this first 50. Of course, I wasn't focusing on the trail at this point, so this is right about the time I took a nice face-first dive in the dirt. I guess I have to give my subconscious credit for picking a nice flat, soft section of trail in which to wake me up.

I got to Muir Beach and who should be there with camera ready, but Miki who was also the one to capture the results of my last dive in the dirt. So, I have wonderful photos of stuffing my face while being reminded of my own stupidity.



I stuck with Beat and Jochen as we headed back up the steps (for the first time), down to Tennessee Valley and then back up and over to Rodeo Beach. When we got to the road overlooking the start/finish, Beat and I told Jochen to go and get himself a good finish for the 50 miler. The two of us took our time heading down this section as it really isn't all that enjoyable to run downhill on the road and we knew we had to do it two more times. I think I was also over focused on the fact that I wasn't feeling as good as I had hoped for at this stage of the race. I had just run the slowest 50 miles I had ever done and yet, I felt no better than had I raced it hard. The slightest bit of doubt had started creeping into my brain. I decided that I would spend some extra time at the Rodeo Beach and then just plan on some serious walking for while.

I got to the beach and was immediately perked up by Meredeth whom I had met at Miwok. She had just finished an awesome 50 miler, coming in as the 3rd woman and was still waiting for a couple people for whom she would be crewing during the 100. She started taking care of me right away, filling my bottles and getting me some chicken noodle soup. It definitely lifted my spirits (thanks Mer). I changed socks, ate soup, changed into a long-sleeved shirt, drank some Red Bull, got my night gear together and had some more soup. Luckily Beat was there to kick me in the butt and get me going as I might have stuck around too long just visiting and enjoying the eats.

With night on its way, this next loop of 25 miles would be much slower going. However, I was looking forward to the evening. The cooler weather and the change of scenery started lifting my spirits, though the chicken soup wasn't sitting too great in my stomach and I felt it whenever I tried to run. However, overall, things started to get better. Beat and I hooked up with Craig Slagel who is normally a much faster runner than us, but was said he has been hurting ever sense finishing States in June. We made it to the first aid station taking almost a full hour longer than at the start, but the night had now set in and I was enjoying it. By the time we came into Tennessee Valley, I was feeling good. I downed an Ensure and headed out leaving Beat behind as he was switching into some warmer cloths. I figured he would catch me on the uphills as I was generally slower going up. However, as I said, I was feeling good and so my pace started to pick up even on the hills. I was really starting to enjoy being alone out there on the trail at night and I think I was enjoying the race for the first time. I had also approaching the longest distance I had ever run. I made it up to the ridge and had no trouble finding the shortcut we were to take down towards Muir Beach, avoiding the Pirate's Cove steps.

At this point I was really having a great time. My pace felt good. The air was cool, but not cold and I was just simply "in the zone." I think this is why it never occurred to me that the shortcut should have been a lot shorter. It also never occurred to me that I shouldn't be hitting any uphill heading down this section and that it should all be on fire trail (and the ribbons should still be orange and...). I was just going, moving along the trail above the water with ease. When I finally went down into a little valley, I stopped. I knew something was wrong. It looked familiar, but I wasn't sure where I was. I felt like I was definitely moving in the opposite direction of Muir Beach at this point. I decided to follow the trail a little further along to where I could hear the waves hitting the coast below. I short jog and I knew exactly where I was. THE STAIRS!?! How did I get here? Where did I miss the turn? Was it close behind me or a ways back? I didn't have answers to any of these questions so just turned and started running again.

"Beat? That you?" Someone was coming down the trail toward me.
"No, It's Harry"
"Harry?!?"
"Steve? What are you doing here? Did you miss the shortcut?"
"No, worse" I replied, "I took the shortcut and made a wrong turn. How far back is the intersection with the fire road?"
"It must be close to a mile"
"Shit!"
"Good luck..."

Without much thought I simply take off running. My adrenaline is now fueled with anger and self loathing at my own stupidity. I run up out of the valley and along the trail taking a while to get to the intersection which is as obvious as anything can be now that I take the time to look at it. There is a metal gate and a square sign clearly marking it as the return direction as well as plenty of ribbons. It feels familiar to look at it, but I must not have been thinking at all to go past this. I made a quick decision that it was not going to get to me. I simply told myself that I was now just running the 102. I meet Craig and then Beat coming up the fire road from Muir Beach and he expresses his concern. I tell him quickly what happened, but I don't linger as I want to get to the Aid Station. The chicken soup I'd eaten early is calling for me to find a porta-john and I have already lost about 1/2 hour or running. I get to the aid station to find that it is without bathroom so I get to go hunt through the bushes. I still don't let this get to me. I return to the aid station feeling physically relieved and still fired with adrenaline. Stan, who is working there, is very helpful and encouraging and simply tells me he will see me again.

I head out of the aid station and put on my best power-walking stride once I get to the hill. I then start to run a bit once I am on the single track. Its my 5th time on this trail so I feel like I know it pretty well by this point. I don't let the steps slow me down either. In fact, as I am pushing up the steps I make what would normally not be a great decision to make at 65+ miles. I am going to try and catch Beat. I get to the fireroad and get into my shuffle-jog pace on the steep hills. I hit the ridge and I start running...really running. I start passing people who had gone by during my wrong turn. Someone's pacer going the other way comments in shock to see someone running the way I am, where I am, in the dead of night. I see a runner moving slowing up ahead and call out asking if it is Beat. It's Craig. I notice, as I come closer, that he is hobbling. He assures me that he is alright, but that he plans to drop at Tennessee Valley. I wish him well and charge down the hill.

I make Tennessee Valley and ask how far ahead Beat is. About 10 minutes. I am definitely making time. I slow myself a bit so I can fuel and then head out walking and eating. I hit the hills and start shuffling again. I know the section from Tennessee to Rodeo very well. I push the whole way until the road. The road brings me pack to reality. I feel some pains in my feet and decide not to run the first, steepest, part of the paved downhill. In fact, I turn around and walk backwards for a bit. However, overall, I am actually feeling pretty good and the lights from Rodeo Beach beckon me. I hustle down the hill and come into the aid station still charged up. It's about 3am. I tell my story as I down a couple more Ensures and then start on a Red Bull. I'm feeling wired. Way too amped up for the volunteers who all look pretty sleepy at this point as they listen to my wayward tale. The only thing on my mind is that I have just one more 25 mile loop remaining and I feel great. Maybe there is some truth to the idea that when you feel bad in an ultra, it sometimes helps to actually pick the pace up rather than take it easier. Or, maybe, I just need to occasionally get mad at myself to push into the next gear.

Beat had only come into the aid station a few minutes before me. However, it was enough time for him to work up all the good chiding that I very much deserved. He told me that I needed to stick with him so I don't get lost. I agree (for now). At this point in the race, most people told me they were dreading the last trip out of Muir Beach up the stairs. For me, I know that the first climb on the road will be the toughest mentally. I am, once again, glad to have Beat there to push me along. His uphill pace keeps me from dropping into a slow, casual walk. However, his injury is still giving him some trouble and he tells me that once we hit the downhill I will likely be on my own. I agree. I still feel generally good and am really anxious to make sure I give it all I have left on this last loop. Once we get close to the big downhill into Rodeo Valley, I tell Beat that I'll see him at the finish.

I move through the aid station quickly and just try to keep the momentum. The sun is starting to come up and I am hoping it will take my energy level with it. Along the climb up and over into Tennessee Valley, my watch alarm goes off. It is officially 24hrs since I woke up Saturday morning. I realize that I am actually feeling sleepy for the first time in the race. I definitely feel that "up all night" feeling. I don't have any specific hallucinations, but every looks just not quite right. I am happy when I finally make it up the ridge as I can push the downhill to try and get my head straight. I'm happy at Tennesee Valley as I move through grabbing what I need and just saying, "see you again soon". I make it up and over the ridge to Muir Beach without incident this time (other than really feeling stupid when I see how obvious the trail intersection is marked).

At Muir Beach I know there is about 9 miles left. I know I have plenty of pump still in my legs. My watch tells me that sub-27 is actually still quite do-able. I keep a good pace moving out of there. I pass a guy named Jack who stayed at the same Hostel the night before. He is having problems with his Achilles. He encourages me and warns me about one of the trail markings before the downhill into Tennessee Valley. I take note..sort of. As I am approaching this important downhill I see a few people I know coming the other way including Chuck Wilson. It must have been there that I lost focus once again and missed the very turn that I was warned about. Luckily, I catch my mistake much sooner this time and turn to run uphill once again. I then take the downhill into TV as fast as I can. I don't worry that there is one more major hill after the aid station. I am on a mission now.

I strip most of my gear off at the aid station and decide I can make the final push with a single watter bottle. I start on the first hill and there are a bunch of young teenagers doing some volunteer work on the trails. One of them turns to me and says "I really have a lot of respect for you." I say "thanks" as my face goes a bit flush. That girl has no idea how much her simple words meant to me right then. I pass the rest of them thanking them for working on the trail and deciding that there is no more walking for me. I am going to push the whole trail, even the really steep little hills before the final road. I pass one guy who isn't looks to be struggling, but has a pacer keeping him going. I give him some encouraging words. I finally make the road. I am going to ignore all pain and run the asphalt. I'm very surprised to catch another runner and pacer along this section. It is Leslie Antonis who has been leading the woman's race the whole time. She is having stomach problems. I offer my encouragement, but really, I feel bad about passing her. We are less than a mile from the finish and she is normally such a strong runner. However, we all have to run our own race and 27 hours is not far off so I continue my relentless push down the hill.

I can see the finish coming close. The last winding downhill is very frustrating as you can't seem to make the finishing stretch come fast enough. Someone yells up to me that I can break 27 hours. I push some more and finally get to the the bottom. I don't know how much separates my watch from the official time so I am going to sprint to the finish. As I come around the turn, Sarah and Wendell try to assure me that I don't need to push it as I have it in the bag. However, by this point I don't care. I say, "I did my 100 miles, now I'm gonna do my 100 meters!" To be able to sprint to the finish at the end of such a long race is a feeling like nothing else.

26:58:52

Done.

-----

There isn't much I can write to try and explain my mental/emotional state after the race except to say that there was a growing sense of calm satisfaction. I hung out at the finish to cheer others in and swap stories. There were so many people out there who were so helpful that I don't think I could thank them all. Fellow runners, the amazing volunteers who worked all night and, of course, Sarah and Wendell who put the whole thing together.

I had rented a hotel room in downtown SF so I wouldn't have to drive all the way back to Fremont. It was a good call. I might have had not problem driving home had I left right after the race, but the more I hung out and relaxed, the more I could feel my physical state deteriorating. My wife was going to come up and meet me in the city along with our son and his friend. After one amazing shower, I called them from the hotel to tell them the room number and said to just wake me up when they arrived. I got a little nap in, but knew that I would need to eat a real meal before I slept. Dinner was hard. Total exhaustion was setting in and everything felt like it was stiffening up. I normally wouldn't include this part of the story as it is a bit anti-climatic, but it turned out to be a very, very good thing that I made myself walk around and get dinner. When I awoke on Monday morning after a deep,dreamless sleep, I was shocked to discover that most of my stiffness and much of my soreness not only hadn't worsened, but had actually gotten better. I could walk almost like a normal human being and I felt mentally somewhere approaching normal. My recovery has gone well since. I've had almost no real muscle soreness though I can feel a lot of weakness in my joints and ligaments. I have kept things very easy.


It is still surprising to me to think that it is just been a little over two weeks since the race. The few short runs I have done these last couple weeks have all felt especially easy, light and joyous. Rather than being burned out on running, I actually feel that I am enjoying it more as it feels less pressured mentally. I've accomplished a goal that was set in my mind a long time ago and now I can get back to the simple pure joy of running. Now, don't get me wrong, it isn't like I am giving up on training and doing races. In fact, I actually went and signed up for another 100 miler in Arizona at the end of October. However, the pressure and self-doubt about whether I can do it has been released. There will definitely be more and further goals to accomplish, but right now, everything ahead of me just looks like icing.

Short Story

Still haven't collected all my thoughts to write a full race report so here is the very brief story of this past weekend.

First 50-miles - Took it very easy, but never really felt like I was having a good run. Struggled in the middle, felt better near the end, but finished thinking that I should be feeling much, much better having run the slowest 50-miler I have ever done (11:42). Worried that if things continued to deteriorate, it could get very ugly during the night. Ate lots and hung out at the start/finish aid station for a while. Beat Jegerlehner ran in with me for the last half. He is an experienced 100-miler, but was taking it very easy as he is nursing a bit of an injury.

Miles 50-75(+2) - Started easy, walking and hanging out with Beat. Enjoyed the cooling as the night set in. Ran the big fireroad down to Rodeo Valley and started feeling better. Left on my own out of Tennessee Valley and felt better and better still. Really enjoyed running at night alone. Enjoyed it too much, missed a turn, ended up doing a couple extra miles. Fired up by anger and self-loathing, I kicked it in a bit and tried to make up some time. Returned to Rodeo Valley (19:48) to find Beat having only been there for about 5 minutes before me. Headed out with him again after letting him berate my lame route finding abilities.

To the finish - Took it easy on the start climbs until Beat told me that I should just go as soon as we hit the downhills as he knew he wasn't going to be strong on them. At that point I knew finishing was in the bag for me and wanted to see what I had left especially once the sun came up. 5am was the toughest hour as my body decided to finally let me know that I'd been up for over 24 hours. I pushed through and once I hit the downhill to Muir Beach, I decided I was going to push to the end. Push I did going as strong as I could on the tough uphills and speeding the downhills all the way back to Tennessee Valley. Then it was time to leave nothing on the course and repeat my Miwok finish of shuffling up the steep hills and powering down to the finish ignoring the accumulated pain of nearly 27 hours (26:58:52)

I realize this brief report does nothing to convey the incredible myriad of physical and emotional ups and downs that really constituted the race. I'm not really will be able to express it all properly. It will probably be until this next weekend that I can write up a long report. Physically I actually feel much better than I expected. Mentally, I just feel sort of contemplative.

Gettin' Ready

[Rumble], [Rumble], [Rumble]

Where the heck did I put that...

[Rumble], [Rumble]...

[CRASH!]

Ah, here it is..

"100m Checklist"

Now, let's see what's on this thing.

• "Running Shorts"
  
• check
• "Socks"
• got 'em
• "Singlet"
• uh...ok...I guess
• "Track spikes"
• uh?!?
• "Starting blocks"
• what the f...

Oh no! That's 100 METERS!!! Now what am I going to do? I was supposed to have everything together and just be chillin' by this time, waiting for the start. Now I have to actually organize myself for a 100 miler less than 2 days before the start.

...

Actually, I wish I had even that lame an excuse. The truth is I have just been really lazy about getting my stuff together. I originally planned to do it last weekend and have a whole week to get in the "oh yeah...I also need X" realizations. However, I am going to end up doing it all tonight. I did get at least a shopping trip in last night to pick up a few out-of-the-ordinary items that I wouldn't usually bring to a race. The most important items include Vanilla Ensure which I have used post-race before, but recently tried during TRT50 and liked it. In the unlikely event that I have stomach problems (or just want some liquid calories late in the race), I will have these in a couple of drop locations. Also, I have a four pack of my very important, secret weapon, Red Bull! I have been keeping my normally astronomic caffeine intake to a minimum this week in order to help feel the extra kick when I need it during the race. Other than that, I have my normal stuff that I just need to organize and put into the proper bags. I haven't really followed plan this week though. I didn't get to the gym to do even do the easy stationary cycling I had planned. I haven't kept my eating under control and I am up a couple pounds. I did, however, manage to get a really good sports massage on Tuesday night and I did my "Yoga for Athletes" workout last night. I do feel very rested and all my ligaments, joints and muscles feel very good.

In a way, I have been pretty lackadaisical this week. I think this is part of my response to big events like this where I kind of fall into a mode of actual lower stress as the event approaches. I used to feel this way in college during finals. As things got close and I just couldn't bring myself to study any more (not that I was the most avid studier to begin with), I would eventual reach a state where I would just be like "oh well, nothing I can do now but show up and see if I really learned this stuff." I feel pretty much like that right now as there is really nothing I can do, but get everything together and "show up and see if I am really ready to get this thing done."

The other thing that always happens to me as I get close to a big race is that my mind starts focusing on "what's next" beyond that race. It's sort of a self-distraction mechanism. Right now I don't have anything scheduled until Firetrails 50 in October. That's too far off to really distract me. I have nothing for September. So, here is what I am thinking. If all goes well this weekend (when all goes well this weekend...) I am thinking of heading to the Grand Canyon in September to do an R2R2R run. It will likely be the middle of the month as I have to be in Japan the first week of Sept. So, anybody want to join me? Planning will begin sometime after my body and mind recover from 100 miles.

Maybe it doesn't sound like I'm "gettin' ready" as much as I should be, but in my head I think I have it all together. In fact, I can see the Sunday morning finish line like its right in front of me.

Test Run

Getting my final gear together for HH100 I made a few new purchases recently. I acquired a new waist pack from my good friends at PCTR (yes, they also sell gear). I tried out my new Ultimate Direction Matrix HHS last weekend doing a sweep of the Salt Point course. The pack felt good, but the little rubber nib came off the 26oz bottle the first time I tried to drink from it Luckily Sarah immediately replaced it with one of the old school UD bottles that same day.

I also hit up The Zombies for the rest of my stuff including two cases of Clif Shots (Espresso and Mocha), one of their small foot care kits and a new flashlight, the Fenix L2D. I've done must of my night runs with a paltry headlamp (or even no light) in past so at first I balked at this pricey little item. However, it came very highly recommended and I figure its good to splurge on at least one new toy before a big race. I plan to use the headlamp either in conjunction or as a backup item. As a side note, if you live in the bay area and opt to pick-up your Zombie order at their condo, I highly recommend trying one of Don's awesome cappuccinos. Don is about as passionate and knowledgeable about his coffee as he is about running. The only down side of doing this is that you may need to be dragged (or kicked) out of their home as it is easy to get too comfortable with all the good coffee, cool gear and great conversation!

OK, so with my full gear options available, I thought I should probably give the entire rig a good test run. I planned to run Mission Peak Friday evening anyway, but coming home late from work gave me the perfect excuse to make it a night run and test my new flashlight as well. I suited up with my new waist pack, filling the big 26oz bottle and the 10oz extra bottle, adding a few things to the zip pack and carrying both my 26oz and 20oz handhelds. I attached the flashlight to the waist pack and strapped on my headlamp. So, feeling like I was part runner, part McGuyver and part Borg, I had nothing left to do but don a totally cheezy expression and snap a pre-run picture.





So, after I finished laughing at myself, I headed out for a nice 9 miles up on Mission Peak a little before 10pm. Heading up the peak is really no test for lighting options as I not only know the trail like the back of my hand, but a slow uphill pace and tons of light from the valley makes it possible to run completely without lights. I started out, however, with my trusty old headlamp (yes, it is held together with tape). Partway up I switched to the flashlight. My immediate first impression was simply "damn that's bright!" However, it did take a little while to get used to the various settings and how best to hold/attach the light. In the end, I used the lanyard to hitch the light to the loop in my handheld and ended up wedging it inbetween the zip pocket and the bottle where it stayed pretty securely. This also allowed me to orient the light either up or down depending on the terrain. It also took some time to get used to the amount of jumping around the light does being in my hand rather than on my head which is generally pointed at the trail. It was especially troublesome since it gave off so much light that I had a lot better peripheral vision than I was used to at night. I was often distracted by things on the side of the trail or even off in the distance as I tested just how far that beam would go. All in all, the light works and the extra visible trail is a big boon especially when going downhill where I always prefer to look a little ways down trail. I think I actually prefer the headlamp on the steeper uphills as I tend to look almost directly down in front of my feet and the constant spot seems to help keep me moving forward. Switching back and forth may be too much, though, so I am going to plan and stick with the flashlight, but will keep the headlamp with me as an option.

The waist pack did similarly well. However, even during the 100 I may not need all of the fluid that I could carry with this full rig. With both handhelds and the bonus bottle on the pack that gives me a total fluid capacity of 82-ounces, certainly more than I can (or should) drink between aid stations, but the number of configurations should give me plenty of options. The pack feels pretty heavy to hold in your hands when everything is full, but it is pretty well distributed and the horizontal bottle fitted nicely into the small of my back. This is definitely better than the vertical (or angle) setup for me. There seemed to be no bouncing and minimal sloshing. The bottle will slip if it isn't pushed all the way in and oriented correctly so I may consider doing something to make it a little more snug like tape or some sort of sleeve. The zip-bag is very easy to access and retrieve things from, but it doesn't zip back up with one hand which is a little bit of a pain. There is a separate small zip above the water bottle which has a key hanger and enough space for some small items that won't be accessed often (I'm thinking Advil or other minimal first aid gear).

The night was beautiful and the run perfect except for one little fall where I was stupidly adjusting my waist pack and not looking at the trail. I practiced taking it very easy and the whole run took about 13 minutes longer than the previous time I ran this route. All, in all, a successful test run. I got home by midnight feeling good, but a little wired. Well, I thought I was just a little wired, but it turns out I may have made a terrible mistake. I think I may have confused my body into thinking it was supposed to stay up all night this weekend. I actually wasn't able to fall asleep until 5am. Not exactly a pattern I am trying to set for the coming week. I will be doing one more run on Sunday, again focusing on taking it easy on the trail. Next week I plan to do pretty much no running, but may hit the stationary bike at the gym for some easy spinning. My main focus will be on making sure all my muscles are rested and my joints and tendons all feel good. Lots of stretching, icing and perhaps a good sports massage if I can fit it in.

8500ft

It's taken me a while to get around to this report as I have been in Las Vegas for most of the week after the race. Since my I had a very long bad spell during this race and my memory of the bad stuff fades quickest, this report of the TRT50 will be shorter than most :-).

I drove up to the area relatively early on Friday, but apparently not early enough to avoid all the traffic. It took about 5 hours to get to Carson City where the race check-in and packet pick-up was. I did manage to see some friends there including Chihping, Rajeev and Anil. They were all preparing for the 100-mile option. Chihping, who is from Fremont like myself, was not content to simply spend a full day and night on the course and informed me that he intended to sleep in the woods before the 5:00am race start. I guess it means he got to sleep in a little longer than everyone else. Personally, I stayed in a nice plush hotel room with a comfy bed.

Us 50-milers didn't start until 6am. I drove to the parking area by 5am and caught the shuttle bus (a mini-van actually) into the park before the start. For some reason, they don't give out race bibs at check-in for this race and you have to stand in line to pick them up. While waiting, an announcement was made that someone was in desperate need of a pair of size 10-1/2 mens running shoes as they had forgotten theirs. Before I could even wonder about the sort of person who would do such a thing (actually, I've done similar), I looked up and noticed that it was none other than Harry Walther! Harry and I have shared numerous races over the past couple of years and actually are intending to share a room near the start of the Headland Hundred where we will both be doing our first 100-miler. So, it was only fitting that I should pull out my spare shoes and save the day (or at least his race). Of course, it might have been my only chance to finish ahead of him had he been forced to run in the two right shoes that he actually brought with him.

Since this was my first race at any real sort of altitude and was also to be my last "big" run before my 100-mile attempt, I intended to take it fairly easy. In fact, I wanted to put some good time on my feet for this "training" run. Of course, that isn't to say, I didn't still have a time goal in mind. Just before the start I bumped into Catra Corbett who decided to just pop over to do the 50-miler after already passing through Tahoe on her PCT through-hike attempt. SHe is also from Fremont. I'm not sure about the sanity of these Fremont ultra-runners and what that says for my future in this sport. At any rate, the race started with the usual ultra-lack-of-fanfare and we were off. I took the start very, very easy. I hung back and chatted with Harry who was also going easy. I passed a few people on the first couple of downhills, but generally just tried to stay in line walking the uphills and taking the more level stuff slowly.

I was definitely feeling the altitude especially by the time we reached the first aid station which was around 8500ft, a height above which my body would eventually launch its revolt. However, shortly after the initial peaks there was a nice downhill that allowed me to open it up and pass a number of runners before coming into the Tunnel Creek aid station. I grabbed a few bites, but not too much as I wasn't that hungry. From there we headed into the infamous Red House Loop. The start was all mine as it was steep downhill on soft dirt allowing me to just let it go and fly. I had a blast. In fact, so much that I didn't pay much attention to how to get around the big mud puddle sitting in the middle of the trail at the bottom. Oh well, it's not a trail run without making a mess. The trail leveled out and went into a slow climb for a while. Many people caught back up to me, but I felt pretty good keeping an easy pace. The big climb back out was a bear, though. It was here that I really started to feel the altitude as I crawled up at a much slower walking pace than I like to keep in a race. Back at Tunnel Creek I probably should have lingered a bit, but with the steepest climb behind me decided it was more important to keep things moving.

The next section was a more gradual climb up to the Diamond Peak aid station, again around 8500ft. It was here that things started to fall apart. I was really starting to feel the altitude at this point. This aid station, half-way between Tunnel Creek and the turnaround, was water-only so I filled both bottles full and just wanted to keep moving. The turnaround station was only about 4.5 miles away. However, at this point, I was really not feeling well. I didn't have any stomach problems, but I felt a bit light-headed and any sort of extra effort would send my heart rate up to the point where I would have to actually stop and rest. I took to simply walking pretty much everything that wasn't downhill and even those I took at a pace that seemed to exert a bare minimal effort. I really felt like I just wanted to crawl to the side of the trail and go to sleep. Nothing felt right and I was moving slow. I lambasted my feeble ability to deal with altitude and cursed myself for even having a nickname such as "mountain man" when I couldn't handle anything but the shortest of mountains.

The course leveled out as it approached the turnaround at Tahoe Meadows, but I simply walked the whole thing. I had sucked down both my water bottles and was completely dry. I told myself that I would just try to focus on time on my feet and nothing else. I reached the aid station at well over 6 hours and was looking at the prospect of walking the entire way back. I decided I might as well spend some time here and get hydrated and eat as much as I could hold since it was going to be a very long return trip. My goal had gone from 11hrs, to 12hrs to something looking more like 13+. I ate and drank and ate some more. I changed my socks from my drop bag and strapped on my waist pack to carry a third water bottle. I grabbed a popsicle and headed out walking. I met a woman named Janet who was also planning to do the Headlands Hundred and hung out walking with her for a while. However, as we reached a little uphill I couldn't even keep her pace. I really felt dejected. At one point I sat on a rock and hung my head below my knees. It had been more than 3 hours and I didn't see any end in sight to feeling bad.

I found a couple of other people to walk and talk with and just resigned myself to the slow pace. A bit of downhill came up and I ran it. I took the uphill after it slow again, but something seemed to have clicked when I ran down hill. Another longer downhill was coming up and so I let myself go a bit. It felt good, but I wasn't yet convinced it was over. The next little uphill I stopped and took a hydration check and decided to drink more. I knew there was more downhill before Diamond Peak so I drained both bottles again. Again, the downhill felt good and I filled at the aid station excited that there was even more downhill coming up to Tunnel Creek. I was really starting to feel better as I knew we had dipped below 8500ft again. As I came into the flat section before Tunnel Creek I continued to run and knew that I had finally pushed through a very long, very tough spell. I ate and filled up at Tunnel Creek with my spirits higher than they had been all day. Janet was there and noted how remarkably I had recovered.

I took off from there at a good pace. There was lots of climbing coming up including the high point of the entire race so I knew I wasn't out of the woods yet. However, I felt good and I was mentally ready to discover whether or not 8500ft was just a limiting factor for me or whether I had really pushed through and arrived on the other side ready to tackle this new challenge. The climb back up to Herlan Peak would give plenty of opportunity. I found that I was able to walk the hills at a really solid pace and even managed to take many at a slow shuffle pace. I could still feel the altitude, but I managed to find a pace that was good and I experienced no more racing of the heart or light-headedness even during the climb up to Snow Valley Peak where I had managed to catch up to some people who had passed me even before the turnaround point. One of them was a Carson City local who told me that it was pretty much all downhill from Snow Valley. This had me very excited as the one positive side-effect of the 3-1/2 hour bad spell was that my legs felt great.

I didn't waste too much time in the aid station as I felt like I had also taken better care of my hydration and nutrition needs than I had earlier as well. I was prepping for the downhill as we traveled along the ridge a bit after Snow Valley. I also realized that my realized that my time goal had gone from 11 to 12 to 13+ then back down to 12 and now I could even imagine 11 1/2 as a possibility. This gave me an even renewed sense of spirit and incentive to get down this hill. I don't think I have enjoyed any downhill as much as I did those last 6-7 miles. I don't know how many people I passed on this section, but that wasn't really my focus. Many did, however, wonder how I still seemed so fresh this late in a hard race. I tried to explain when I had the chance, but mostly I just enjoyed the pure pleasure of running free and "fast" at the end. The final bit is flat back into Spooner and I enjoyed just cruising to the end in a fairly respectable time of a 11:37:32.

I must say that this race is probably the most beautiful from a scenery stand point. It is also one of the most difficult as this was my second longest run from a time standpoint. The amount of walking I did, I think, will be a big help with HH100. I also learned that I probably need to pay better attention to drinking and eating more when I am running at altitude. However, the most important lesson I learned was that no matter how bad things seem that you can push through them. All you have to remember is to never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER give up on yourself. Ever.

My Mental State

I went for a run last night up at Garin Regional Park in Hayward. I didn't even know this place existed until I was looking for some place to run while my son was at a basketball workout in Hayward. It's a nice little park with a decent amount of trail, not enough to do a long run without loops, but enough for maybe a couple hours with some bit of climbing and nice views. I ran the Vista Peak Loop Trail combined with the Zeile Creek Trail for a nice little loop. I took it easy the whole way trying to keep that "all day" pace. I took a side trip to hit the peak and check out the views. Very nice views of the bay. Different than Mission Peak (which I could see) or Redwood Park as it is right between the two of them. In fact, I think this park is just the other side of the hills from Pleasanton Ridge where I ran on Sunday. I have always wondered what was on the other side. Now I know. Discovering and running new trails is always good. It was very nice for my mental state before heading to Tahoe this weekend where I also will be running on new trails.

Mentally, I am in a bit of a strange state with respect to the race. For the longest time I have been more worried about TRT50 than my upcoming attempt at a 100 miles 3 weeks later. However, now that the race is but a few days away, I am not worried and my mind is now starting to concern itself with the Headlands Hundred. I know that 50 miles is still a huge challenge and being at altitude is definitely new, but I've done the distance before and at this stage I am usually more concerned with getting all my gear and stuff together. I have a pretty good idea on my drop bag needs for a 50-miler. This will be my 4th race of that distance or longer. However, as I prep for Tahoe, I realize that maybe I need to really start thinking about what I am going to need to go twice the distance. What will I need to have waiting at the 75mile aid station to get me through the night? You see, I don't do pacers and I am actually not going to have any sort of crew either. I know. Some people will question the wisdom of trying my first 100 sans pacer or crew, but that's kinda how I like it. With the two smaller loops after 50 miles, there really doesn't seem to be a need to have someone following me along the course, but I am beginning to wonder if some random desire for a different food, a change of clothing or something totally unexpected will hit me somewhere out there in the wee hours of the night. To me, that really is part of the whole adventure of the race. And that's my mental state.

Quality over Quantity

I think the extra days off was just what I needed. I felt fully recovered and the only thing that suffered were the numbers in my running log. May the statistician in me be damned as the quality of the runs I got in this weekend more than made up for the lack of quantity for the week. I had to fit the runs in around a very busy youth basketball tournament, but the weather this weekend was so perfect that it was an absolute necessity to get out there on the trails. Clear and sunny on both days with a nice cool breeze to keep it from getting hot and remove any hint of haze from the air providing perfect vistas of the entire Bay Area. I a managed a little over 2 hours on Saturday and then more than 3 1/2 on Sunday.


Saturday - Mission Peak
Freddy's basketball games went late Friday night, but Saturday didn't start until the afternoon. This allowed me to sleep in a bit and still manage to get out for a solid run up Mission Peak. I started up the main trail and the extra rest must have helped as I my running felt as light and effortless as I have ever felt while moving up 2200ft in 3.5 miles. As I hit the ridge in about 35 minutes I realized that a PR to the peak was at hand and I pushed it a little more to see if I might even be able to break 45 minutes. The last rocky section took a bit out of me (especially while dodging hikers) and I hit the top in 45:32. Definitely a PR for me. I realized that a sub-45 shot was definitely possible, but I will probably never do it. I am always heading up there as part of a longer run and so I'm unwilling to give it all I got to the peak. Not really an issue and not really a goal especially since the rest of my run was so, so nice. I didn't have unlimited time so, after shooting down behind the peak to fill my water bottle, I headed out on the nice smooth rolling trail towards Monument Peak. I only went far enough to get good view of the south valley before heading back. I hit the peak (and that perfect panoramic view) again before heading back down. I had to get home and clean up as we had a full afternoon of games and then an early morning on Sunday. We stayed Saturday night at my parent's house near the tournament. Mom always makes sure we are well fed.

Sunday - Pleasanton Ridge
Sunday we were done with basketball by noon. This allowed me to get home and get out on the trail by a little after 2pm. I wanted something a little less steep and more runnable than Mission Peak so I headed over to Pleasanton Ridge. It still has plenty of hills and some of the climbs along the Ridgeline Trail might be considered steep, but they are all relatively short grinds interspersed with flat or even downhill sections between them. Despite started off a little more tired than Saturday, I was remarking to myself how much easier it felt than Mission Peak. I'd never run the entire ridge before and with a full afternoon at my disposal I wanted to give it a try. Other than the nice rolling hills at this park, the other nice thing about it is that there is lots of accessible water along the way allowing for a single water bottle even on a long run.

My plan was to head up the main Oak Tree Trail to the Ridgeline as usual and then head north as far as I could go staying on the ridge on the way out and returning via alternate trails. If you want to follow along at home, I took the Ridgeline all the way out to the Bay Leaf Trail and then followed the awesome single-track section of the Bay Leaf to the Shady Creek Trail which climbs back up to the North Ridge Trail following that to the end where you need to cut over on the Mariposa Trail. The Mariposa heads over to the Sinbad Creek trail which is the return route, but I decided to touch the northern boundary of the park first by running out to trail marker 32 and back first. I followed Sinbad Creek back until it cuts back up on the very steep climb returning to the Ridgeline Trail. I stayed on Ridgeline again until the junction with the Thermalito trail. I followed Thermalito back to the intersection with the Grove Trail which heads back to where the Oak Tree Trail hits the Ridgeline at the start. Then it was simply back down the Oak Tree to my car.

Since I was on a long run and prepping for an ultra next weekend I wanted to keep this at an easy pace. I tried to manage my running at what felt like a 50-miler effort level. I ran the uphills, but very slowly and reminded kept myself from pushing at all on the level and even the downhill bits. The pace felt easy for most of the run and it was one of the most peaceful times I've had out on the the trail in a while. Other than the handful of people I saw walking during the first 10 minutes of the run, I didn't see another person (a solo mountain biker) for almost another entire hour. After that, I wouldn't see anyone for well over two more hours until I returned back down the main fireroad. Mostly, it was a nice relaxed, easy long run. At least, it was easy until I started approaching the three hour mark and the one package of Clif Blocks and small amount of Clif Shot gel that I brought was fully consumed and not nearly enough calories for a run of this length. However, it is ultra training so a little bit of struggling is probably a good thing :-).

Sunday Night - Sushi!
I finshed the weekend off with a very satisfying visit to the local sushi boat restaurant with my son. Lots of good quality protein and carbs to top off that good quality running. The albacore tuna was especially good. In the end, my body still does feel a little beat up. With a big 50 miler this weekend in Tahoe I will spend most of this week resting up. I am considering taking the full week off from running to make sure all the sore spots like my hips feel good. However, I will probably do a little light mileage and hope to also get in some easy cross training. Either way, Tahoe will be my final big run before I started the serious mental prep for the Headlands Hundred three weeks later.

Fatigue

Staying home from work today and probably no running. Took yesterday off from running as well. I think my body is in fatigue. During Tuesday's run my ankle sort of gave out. No real twist or trauma, but just in the middle of running...ough! This has happened before as I have plenty of scar tissue in my ankles from years of soccer sprains (though I've yet to have a major sprain since starting trail running about 10 years ago). Usually, some stretching and walking will make the problem go away, but it was much more persistent. I finished the run and iced when I got home. Wednesday, the ankle was still a problem and it has felt weak since then. Beyond that, I have pretty much been tired as a whole this past week. I think my body is crying for a rest. I came to this realization after reviewing the past week in my head:

Wed 7/4 - Thu 7/5: Arrive home from Costa Rica at 1am, can't sleep until 3am.
Thu 7/5: Work full day then fly to LA with Freddy for basketball camp. Get to sleep around midnight.
Fri 7/6: Check Freddy into camp. Fly home. Rest and prep for race on Saturday.
Sat 7/7: Wake at 5am for Angel Island 50K. Have a great race!
Sun 7/8: Work in yard cutting up a tree. Crash for 4 hrs on couch further messing up sleep cycle. Trouble sleeping that night.
Mon 7/9: Freddy flies home, flight delayed and gets in late so another late to bed night.
Tue 7/10: Up at 5am to take boys to practice. Fly to LA for work. 7 mi run upon return, ankle twinges half way through. Yoga workout after run.
Wed 7/11: Get Freddy up at 5am. Go back to sleep for an hour. 7 mi run after work, ankle still problem. Mini-yoga workout after.
Thu 7/12: Get Freddy up at 5am. Don't go back to sleep. Leave work early, tired. No running.
Fri (today): Tired. Fatigued. Staying home typing lame blog entry.

The Angel returns what the Devil took from me

My last race on Mt. Diablo was not on my original plan, but I still had hoped for a better race than I had. However, the struggle was, as usual, its own reward. The steepness, the heat and blood left on the course left me feeling that I had made my sacrafice to the devil. With my wife still in Costa Rica and my son down at basketball camp in LA, a hole opened in my schedule. So, when I noticed that the PCTR Angel Island Run was the same weekend, I knew my redemption was at hand.

Even on paper, the run on Angel Island is the opposite of the one on Devil's Mountain. It has less than half the overall elevation change. While they both make two trips to a summit, Mt. Diablo is a straight climb and followed by a direct plunge down repeated twice. Angel Island takes 6 halo-like loops around the island of gradual climbing and dipping to complete the two trips up. Diablo was devilishly hot, angel island was cool and breezy, a runners heaven even though the views were obscured behind clouds. Diablo was a slow trudge, Angel Island was a fast run with plenty of opportunity to push both up and down.

All and all, I enjoyed Angel Island. I'm not a fan of loops ad so this was also a mental test to see if I could keep my spirits up after each return trip back to the start. In truth the loops here aren't bad since there are three different routes around the island which only share common trail at the start (stairs) and the final descent. The perimeter loop (1st and 4th) is mostly paved and has the no big climbs, but some up and down. The middle loop (2nd and 5th) is mostly trail and has the a couple bigger climbs with some up and down variation, but the least overall elevation change. The summit loop (3rd and final) has the most overall elevation change, but is almost all straight up followed by nearly all down.

The 4th loop was definitely the toughest from me. I have been doing too much road running as it is lately and my feet, left hip and even my left knee had problems at times. I wasn't looking forward to repeating all that asphalt, but once I finished it, I knew the rest of the race would go better. Since it was cool the whole time, I was going with just one water bottle through the 4th loop and wasn't taking electrolytes. The 5th lap was also still a bit tough as I felt the pain from the 4th and my hip and feet were especially giving me trouble. I also realized that I needed to catch up a little on hydration so I ran it with a second water bottle and took an S!Cap before heading out. I felt like I was playing catch up a bit on this lap even though I only saw one other runner (someone who had passed me earlier and then gotten lost). I couple Advil for the pain (and my mental state) helped prep me for the final lap. I also knew that the all up/all down summit run would suit me. After the stairs, I went into heads down climbing mode trying to keep a hard, but maintainable pace. Once I hit the peak, I told myself the Advil would keep my feet from hurting and pushed a fast pace all the way down.

I touched summit at exactly 4 hours 50 minutes. I decided to shoot for getting down in a very aggressive 20 minutes. It probably wasn't doable especially with all the hikers around, but I ran hard the whole way (while still being polite to all other trail users). As I hit the final downhill to the finish, I knew 5:10 was out, but I also knew a new 50K PR was eminent. I pushed it to the finish and came in at 5:11:47. This was faster than my flat 50K with which I started the year. A very satisfying result and one that let me know that a sub-5 hour 50K is a possibility should I ever wish to go for it. Right now, I need to figure out my hip mainly and make sure I am in better fitness for TRT50 moving into HH100. It's getting closer than I think.

Pining for Paradise

Well, I'm typing this from home reading my wife's emails from Costa Rica and wishing I was still there. It was really only 5 full days and was clearly not enough. I felt like I had just just gotten into the groove of the place when I had to leave. Each day started with a humid run down to the beach and back. Sometimes I would end up running an extra couple miles along the beach or exploring the rambling backroads (some of which were less developed than many of the trail I run). I did end up going shirtless on my runs. My discomfort ended up defeating my modesty. After my run I would shower off and sit in the pool for a bit while drinking coffee. The rest of the day was filled with a lot of laying around the house, watching the wildlife from the balcony, reading or just sitting with my Zane and relaxing. We did walk to town or the beach a couple of times and even ate out once or twice, but most of the time was spent in the house. The house was really the crux of the vacation and a few look at the pictures below are explanation enough.

The house looked cool enough from the outside:



The inside was charming and simply invited you to relax



But, the views from the balcony were the real deal:





And of course, sometimes the jungle came right to you



Especially, my friendly Iguanas who proved endless entertainment





The place and the relaxing time we had there will be with me forever. I think if the owner ever wants to sell the place we may just end up with a vacation home in Costa Rica! We'll see how Zane feels after another couple weeks. Will it grow even more beloved or will its charms eventually wear off? At any rate, it was definitely one of the best vacations we've had.