The Other Six

taper: ta·per \ˈtā-pər\ (vt): to become progressively smaller toward one end, to diminish gradually

Hit with yet another head cold (how many is that this year?), I certainly haven't gradually diminished my miles. My running after Mt. Diablo could better be described as a cliff than a tapering off. Once again I have to console myself with the reminder that I have been getting some forced rest before my big race as I spent more time in bed than on trail.

How did I come to this sorry state of affairs? What manner of daemon remained at work after my run in with the devil on the weekend?

Keeping with the biblical allusions, my fall was due to something reminiscent of the earliest sin on Monday. I picked up my son from basketball practice at noon and we stopped at Panera Bread for lunch. Trying to avoid the dreaded "I ran an ultra, I can eat anything today" syndrome, I opted for the Strawberry Poppyseed Salad and chose the usually-quite-healthy side option of an apple. The salad was descent, but as I walked toward the car, I took the first bite of the apple. It didn't taste quite right. It wasn't rotten. It just tasted a bit more acidic than usual. I thought maybe it was maybe my taste buds being weird so I tried another bite. Nope, still "funny". I forced myself to eat a little more as the salad left me still a pit peckish and I wanted to deter myself from making bad food choices later in the day. However, the apple started to turn my stomach. I rolled the rest in a paper napkin and put it aside. Well, the rest of the day my stomach just didn't feel quite right. Not wanting to go into nasty details, I'll just say that by that evening, I was making frequent mad dashes for the nearest restroom. Not a pleasant experience, especially in the middle of grocery shopping after work.

The stomach thing was cleared by the next day, but I think the combination of food poisoning and the recent ultra left my immune system in a pretty vulnerable condition. At least this is what I attribute to my coming down with this nasty cold. I'm sure the deeper truth is that I am being punished for my sins. I mentioned hubris during my race, but lets see how I've managed to live up to the rest of the deadly sins over this past week.

Sloth: Well, this one is pretty obvious since I did almost nothing especially in terms of exercise since the race and coming down ill. Furthermore, my son had a basketball tournament on the weekend which meant I spent most of it sitting as well.

Wrath: I could say I that I was angry with myself. However, that's a bit of a cop out and anyone who has seen me at one of my son's basketball games knows that I am prone to the occasional outburst when the ref makes a bad call (please place in your mind an image of my wife rolling her eyes at that bit of understatement). Let's just say I am a passionate fan, OK?

Gluttony: Between the basketball tournament and Father's Day, it wasn't exactly a weekend of eating well. Good habits go out the door when the routine is interrupted. Besides, I'd never seen a carrot cake pancake before. Come on now, what's not to like about that? Carrot cake! Pancake! Still not convinced? Oatmeal-spiced pancakes filled with diced Granny Smith apples, raisins, carrots, coconut and crunchy walnuts. If that doesn't sell it then how about three simple words. Cream cheese icing! Just go vote for it and celebrate IHOP's 50th anniversary.

Greed: Well, I did spend a pretty penny on gear Friday night at REI so I was pretty obsessed with the acquisition of material things. Among other things, I bought a cool insulated bottle, a very versatile piece of head/neck wear, and multiple pairs of the Nuwool Ijnijni Outdoor Tetrasoks. Of course, the greed sin could also refer to the little fortune cookie prediction I have been carrying around in my wallet since Sunday. Usually they are quite general and vague, but this one was very, very specific. It reads, "you will have gold pieces by the bushel." How do you like that? Tell me if that wouldn't have you reveling in wanton thoughts of greed.

Envy: Hmm. This is a tough one because I don't see myself as a particularly envious person. I have a pretty darn good life so what's to get all torn about? I told my son that all I wanted for Father's Day was to watch him have a good tournament. He played the best he has in some time and his team ended up winning the whole thing. I could say I was envious of those who actually got some running in this week. But, even there, my wonderful wife insisted we do a little run on Sunday evening when we returned home. A nice easy 5 miles on the levee trail. Thomas Aquinas, perhaps the most Aristotelean of Christian philosophers, described envy as "sorrow for another's good". While I am, in fact, a confirmed atheist, this particular sentiment certainly expresses something that, in my personal philosophy, I would rate as one of the highest moral sins. Especially since I tend to see "hatred of the good" in many areas of our society where our predominantly egalitarian-obsessed culture does not. But, this is not a post on philosophy, it is about confessions. And, truth be told, I catch myself in envy, in many small ways, all the time. Perhaps its envy of those people who can eat the stack of pancakes and never gain weight despite lack of exercise. Maybe it's wishing the other team messes up rather than just wishing my son's team plays better. In whatever its manifestation, it is so easy to get caught up focusing on others rather than being at peace with all the good that exists one's own life. The reminder of Disiderata has always hung on a plaque in my family's bathroom since I was a kid and it always reminds me of my father. Happy father's day, Dad. Sorry I couldn't spend it with you.


Well, there you have it, my sins. Huh? What's that you say? Lust? I forgot lust? Come on now! This is a family-friendly blog. I suppose I could post some barely-safe-for-work photos of myself nude on the trail like my friend Catra. Somehow, I think the feelings they would evoke in my readers would be anything but covetous. I'll just stick to good old "gear lust" as something with which I am a bit more comfortable. I also bought a new Nalgene resevoir for my Ultimate Direction pack. These are my favorite replacement reservoirs and the smaller size should be perfect since I plan to carry one handheld as well. We also purchased a Silva Tech4o accelerometer watch for my wife. She thought the GPS units were a bit much for her. We haven't tried it out yet, but it claims 95% accuracy and I'll report on it once we test it.

OK, that's enough about gear for now. I'm getting a little warm just talking about it all :-). Speaking of warm, I really need to figure out my drop bag strategy for Bighorn soon. I will be taking Wednesday off to make sure I have everything together. Besides just having to deal with the expected cold, wet, muddy conditions, we have now been informed that the course has been changed. It turns out that they still have quite a bit of snow up in the higher elevations so the planned turnaround point has been altered and we will be doing an extra loop to Riley Point (8500') early on as well as an extra out-and-back at Footbridge and another trip up the steep 2.8 miles to Riley on the way back. Also, the final turnaround point has been up to Leaky Mountain since the snow starts where that final climb would have been. I think a picture will say much more than any of this description ever could.

Aid Station Closed:



Am I worried?
A little.

Am I excited?
A lot!

A Certain Symmetry

By many standards, Mt. Diablo isn't a particularly large mountain standing a little under 3900ft. However, the 7 mile course from that Sarah and Wendell have plotted from the bottom to the peak entails well over 4000ft of climbing with more than 1600 of it coming in one relentless 2 mile stretch of single-track that encountered before you are even warmed up. After that you have only a very short, but extremely steep respite downhill on firetrail that leads to a more moderate climb to the first aid station. After that you get to enjoy the short tease of the only rolling section of the course before the final 1000ft grind to the in a little over 1.5 miles, much of it on loose gravely trail that you get to share with those faster folks charging towards you on their way down. The return trip to the start avoids the bottom single-track and opts for the more bone-jarring, hard-packed firetrail.

On most courses that have multiple loops there is a familiarity aspect that makes the second trip seem a little bit easier than the first. This is definitely not the case here. Everyone I know who does this 50K for the first time absolutely swears that the hills are longer, steeper and more technical on the second trip to the top. In fact, I think it is almost a tradition to go out too hard thinking "this isn't so bad" on your first leg only to pay for it dearly on the second as the heat of the day sets in. This was certainly the case for me last year when I did this race. This year I was smarter. I knew what to expect. I also wasn't entering this after a stomach virus like last year. So, I took it easier on the first loop. I did more power-hiking. I monitored any potential cramping closely and also used my recent Ohlone experience to make sure I handled the growing heat well and stayed hydrated. Even being more conservative on the first loop, I returned to the start more than 5 minutes faster than the previous year.

Of course, I didn't take a nasty fall this time during that first loop. I actually made it a goal. Last year I was focused on getting close to a 7 hour finish (before I got ill). This year, I stated my goal as to "just not draw blood." Of course, anyone who knows me realized there was a time goal in the back of my mind, but I wanted a stated goal of a different type in order to avoid the dreaded overconfidence of a good first loop. The second loop was definitely harder, especially the top part of Back Creek. But, I was mentally ready for it. I powered through and made it past that typical 4-hour low. The heat was definitely raising and I popped an extra S!Cap and drained both my bottled before the aid station, but not too far back. Things went well and I found myself back at the peak at just over 5:30 race time.

An hour and a half for the final stretch of less than 8 miles.

Mostly downhill.

All I had to do was 10 min/mi average and I had a sub-7 hour in the bag.

This was SO going to happen.

I flew down the steep single track from the peak. Focused and cruising, huffing out "thanks" and "good job" to those coming up.

It levels out a little and there's a face I recognize.

"Good job!"

"You too!"

What was her name again? Darn it, can never remember. Check the list when I get to the bottom. Man, I'm moving. Wonder what time I'll make it in. Can I break 6:50? 6:45? Maybe...

UUUUFFF!!!!!!!

AAAARRRRGHHH!!!!!

Damn...damn...damn!!

I get up from the dirt as quickly as possible and hope awkwardly around the trail trying hard to keep my left calf from seizing up. I manage, but just barely. It is going to be an issue the whole way down. Beautiful! Nice job, Steve! Patting myself on the back before I'm even half way down the mountain. Isn't hubris one of the seven deadly sins? The devil strikes again!

My penance came shortly as about 2 minutes further down trail, I come upon the runner in front of me, a young triathlete doing his first ultra, lying on his back in the dirt. I stop and offer a hand up. He looks up for a few seconds in confusion before accepting the assistance. I ask if he's OK and give him the once over. He seems fine with just a minor cut on his palm. I think he was maybe confused by the very different competitive ethic between triathlons and ultras. I stick near him for most of the rest of the way to the aid station and have a bit of conversation. When I know he is being taken care of I make haste out of there. It is about 6:05 and I have some business to finish here. I know it took me a bit over 40 minutes from here the last time and I am figuring 45 for this trip so long as my calf behaves.

I am very familiar with this fireroad down having run and/or biked it more times than almost any trail other than Mission Peak. I am even prepared for the last mile and a half which just doesn't seem to be downhill even though the elevation profile assures you it is. I roll into the finish in a little under 6:51, dirty, scrapped and bloody, having once again paid my dues to the Devil's Mountain.

Despite the fall, it was a very good race overall. I finished on the other side of the 7-hour mark than I did the previous year. I should now have a nice scar on my left thigh to match the one I acquired on the right side last year. And, just to complete the symmetry of the repeated event, to go along with last years pre-race stomach virus, I managed to acquire a nasty little case of food poisoning or something the day after the race this year. Luckily, it was nothing that lasted, but my defenses do feel a bit more weakened. With Bighorn just a week and a couple of days to come, I think that my taper is going to look a lot more like a cliff. No worries here, a week of rest will be good.

Bulking Up

Monday was Memorial Day (yes, I am way behind in my reports) and Freddy's team had the potential for a full day of games if they went all the way in their tournament. Unfortunately, they only made it to the quarter-finals. It did however, let us enjoy a bit of the nice weather we had on this last day of the long weekend. After some errands, I did a 4 miler with my wife and then headed right back out to knock off another 8 miles on my own. My legs definitely thanked me for the two days of rest I'd given them and I was very happy to start the week with a nice 12 mile day. Since I wasn't going to get a 50 miler in before Bighorn, I decided that this week would be a big mileage week followed by some standard mileage going into my 50K the following week. I had the idea in my head to bulk up my miles and shoot for a 70+ week. I don't know that I have ever notched greater than that number in a pure training week (i.e. not including weeks with 100K or 100-mile races).

The remainder of the week progressed along fairly normal lines (3 miles w/Zane Tue, 8.5 Wed, 8.5 Thu., 5 Fri) and I was heading into the weekend with 37 miles. My wife's schedule called for 8 miles on Saturday morning and I figured I could knock off another 8-10 easy miles in the afternoon. That would put the 70 mile goal within fairly easy reach without the need for a crazy long run on Sunday though I did want to hit some good hilly trails. Once again, my wife continued to impress me (while continuing to ignore my conservative advice) and went on to do 9 miles on Saturday even battling through a side stitch late in the run. However, she said her legs and everything else felt fine and the coming week was a planned "back-off" week for her. I had not pre-formed idea about where to run in the afternoon and just figured that wherever I could get it in would be fine as long as I brought my miles up over 50 before Sunday. Zane was heading to Miami in the morning for work and needed to head to the office in the afternoon to prepare. That gave me the idea to head over to my default Penninsula location of Purisima Creek. A nice down-and-up there would give me 8-10 miles as well as some good hills. I promised myself to take it easy, but would allow extra miles if I felt it (that would just be less required of Sunday).

Driving up Skyline the fog grew ever thicker as I watched the temperature gauge creep down into the 40s. There was certainly not going to be any heat training on this run! I brought my moeben sleeves (Miwok) and gloves as well as my windbreaker (Firetrails). I also decided to use my hydration pack on this run to test a different bladder in it. I have some new gear updates/changes recently, but I'll leave those aside for another post. At first I headed out with only the sleeves and gloves, but as soon as I entered the deep trees it was not only extremely cold, but I was getting wet from tree drippings. I immediately headed back to the car and donned the jacket that I ended up keeping on the entire time. As I headed down trail, I realized that, while I wouldn't get any heat training in, I might actually get a little mud training as things were quite wet over here. It made the trails very soft and added to the always enjoyable running in this park. For those in the know, I started on the North Ridge Trail then headed down the wonderfully switchbacky (?) Whittmore Gulch Trail. This descends about 1500ft in just under 4 miles. Always a good way to start a run. The original idea was to head back up Harkins Ridge and back over to North Ridge with maybe a little extra mileage for 8 total. However, I was feeling so good upon reaching the bottom that I decided to head up the Purisima Creek so I could cut over on my favorite Soda Gulch Trail and get more like 10 miles in. In fact, I was feeling so good upon reaching the Soda Gulch intersection that I continued climbing for another mile or so before turning back around to head back to my start point on the wonderfully rolling single-track. Despite the cold, I had a great run and managed to take it easy on the near-3000ft of climbing. The final tally for the run put me at right around 13 miles. This made my weekly total 59 and put an audacious idea into my head.

Sunday morning I had to be up at 4am to get my wife to the airport. Unfortunately, I didn't get to bed early and 3 hours sleep was not what I wanted to finish my big week of running so I went right back to sleep upon returning home. It was that good, deep, Sunday morning type of sleep and it was lovely. I finally rolled out of bed around 11 and took my time getting things going. However, I eventually got my act together and 2pm found me in Sonol running across the bridge onto the Ohlone Wilderness Trail. The goal was distant Rose Peak, the high point of the recent Ohlone 50K and one of the highest peaks in the area at just under 3800ft. I basically followed the path of the recent race, but took a few exploratory excursions onto side trails both to satisfy my natural curiosity as well as to add some extra mileage. The weather was the opposite of what I had experienced on the other side of the bay just a day earlier with clear skies and warm air. It wasn't quite as warm as my last trip here two weeks prior especially with the nice cooling breeze. I worked on my uphill pace and just enjoyed being out there on the trail alone. I don't think I saw another soul beyond the first 45 minutes. I reached the peak after about 10 miles in under 2 1/2 hours then headed down to Maggies to refill my pack and start the trip home. I took a few more short excursions on the mostly-downhill return trip. I was really in no hurry as I was so much enjoying the trail. But, I did get a late start so eventually I had to pick things up and get home to take care of dinner for Freddy. After a little more than 4 1/2 hours of running, I returned to the parking lot feeling exhausted and fulfilled, about 21.5 miles and over 5000ft of climbing. Just as I was heading out, my phone rang. I knew it was Freddy and he was probably wondering about dinner. However, rather than his usual query of "what's for dinner" he immediately asked, "can we go to sushi?" Hmmm....fish for protein, rice for carbs and a nice muscle relaxant to wash it all down. How perfect is that!

Oh yeah, and my weekly mileage total....80.7 miles. A new PR! The farthest I've gone in a week that didn't include a 100 mile race.


This week I have been taking it fairly light, but not too light. I don't plan to race hard at Mt. Diablo so I am still targeting close to 60 miles for the week including the race. I expect to be running on tired legs, but then it will be taper time so this is the final training push.

The Downward Spiral

OK, so I had this crazy idea that, after having such a good race at Ohlone, I could launch right back into a normal 60-mile training week. I've been wanting to "bulk up" my training leading up to the Bighorn 100. It will be the first 100-miler without a 50-miler within 3 weeks of the race. I will be doing the Mt. Diablo 50K as my last long run before I taper. I plan to run Saturday before Diablo and to keep a normal training week leading up to that. However, my idea (I can't really call it a plan) after recovering from Miwok was to maintain my weekly mileage in the 60+ range integrating both Ohlone and Diablo without missing a beat.

I took Monday off and then did an easy 3 miles with my wife on Tuesday night. On Wednesday I did my lunchtime run. Normally, I would wear my heart-rate monitor on my first "regular" run after a race to assure I kept things at recovery pace. I think that I figured with the Tuesday's run at such an easy pace I could skip the whole "recovery run" thing. This was probably not a great idea as I felt a bit more fatigued after my Thursday lunch run and certainly wasn't going to argue when my wife decided she needed to cut her evening run short. I'd make it up later in the week.

Getting out of work early on Friday before the long weekend was an opportunity to add a few extra miles before a busy weekend. Now that the Guadalupe River Trail is completely open north of the Airport, I decided to take it all the way past 237 and back. This trail offers some interesting long (though flat) run opportunities for me as it hooks up with the Highway 237 Bikeway which I can take all the way to Milpitas on the way to my house. It also ends close to the Alviso Marina which has some nice levee trails at the south tip of the bay. At any rate, I started this run off at a fairly easy pace for a medium distance run. However, by the middle of the return trip, I got that sensation where my legs just took on a mind of their own. Everything just kept slowing down and there didn't seem to be anything "there" to make them go any faster. I finished the run feeling wasted. But, with 32 miles for the week, I still figured that a good night's rest and I would be able to fit in 30 miles on the weekend.

The weekend miles were going to be a challenge as my son was playing basketball in a big memorial day tournament called "Rumble in The Bay." It was local and he had a big break in the Saturday schedule with a first game at 8:45am and a second game at night. That gave me some time, but there went the whole sleeping in idea. After his first game it was time to do my wife's long run. The plan was to do 6 miles, but she felt good and insisted that she be allowed to do more. OK, really she just ignored all my blathering about increasing mileage slowly and training schedules and blah, blah, blah... She simply turned left onto a path before we got to the car and kept going. It's not like I can really tell her what to do anyway. Besides, I knew that 7 miles was a big milestone for her as she used to do 7 mile runs often as a teenager. Unlike me, she is really quite good at pacing herself and never goes out too fast so I try not to worry about her adding miles if she feels it.

As the day wore on, I could tell that my body really wasn't recovered as well as I would have liked from the previous weekend's race. I kept thinking back to Wednesday's run and how I have felt as though my body had been in a slow, downward spiral since that run. I kept re-adjusting the math in my head from my planned 12-14 Sat. afternoon followed by 10 or so on Sun. If I only did 10 today, I could maybe do 12+ tomorrow...If I only did 6 today, perhaps I could find time for 15 tomorrow...if I just rest the rest of the day, can I fit it in tomorrow? Perhaps 2 runs tomorrow? Perhaps only 50 miles total?

During one of my brief lapses into sanity, I admitted that I really needed the rest and decided to just see how I felt the next morning. The morning brought my wife and I to the gym for some cross-training on the stationary cycle. I was reading an article in "Marathon and Beyond" by Joe Henderson talking about common training errors. When I arrived at the one titled "Don't be a slave to your running log", I just sort of stared at it for a while. It was clear what the right thing was for me to do. Even though my legs felt great after the time on the cycle, I decided that rest was what this weekend called for. I had Monday off and if I felt recovered enough I could at least start the next week off with a descent count.

It's funny, with all my worry and obsessing over my wife's miles, she was really the one listening to her body whereas I was the one locked into some arbitrary concept of a training plan. Her body was simply telling her to go further. Mine was saying "enough!"

Momentum

According to my wife, she found me sleeping on my back, feet dipping into the pool, a glass of beer unfinished by my side and a big smile still on my face. The last thing I remembered was staring up at the sky, the twilight outlining a tree that peeked over from our neighbor's yard. I'd never noticed before how the leaves bunched together at the end of each branch, like a lollipop. It was quite beautiful and I was thinking I'd tell Zane about it...

20 min back
I'd just taken everything off the grill and the food was spread on plates across the counter as I called my wife and son down for dinner. I asked if we should set a table or just eat "barbarian style." No answer was necessary as we all just dug in. My salmon was incredible, but so was the steak I'd made for Freddy and Zane's grilled tofu. Finding no sauce in the house I threw something together using pineapple juice, catchup, soy sauce, some spices and "Bacos". It was surprisingly good. Of course, to me, everything tasted amazing as my taste buds where running on overdrive in order to satisfy my post-ultra, voracious appetite. I'd gotten the idea to fire up the BBQ after I dropped my older son off at the airport. I was thinking about his comment that I seemed to have an awful lot of energy for having just run so far.

1 hr back
Jefferson had come home from college for the weekend. He just finished finals, but would be staying in Tucson as he scored a summer internship there. His flight left at 7:30pm so I hadn't been able to hang out too long at the finish line after my race, but still had to wait a little while as my ride finished about an hour behind me. On the drive to the airport, Jefferson asked me a ton of questions about the race, about the heat, eating, drinking, sweating, etc. It was the first time he had shown that sort of detailed interest. I rattled on and on (as I'm want to do) before forcing myself to turn the conversation back to him and his upcoming "real job". He's very excited about the internship and we had gone out and bought him a bunch of dress clothes the day before since he will be working in an insurance office. While he just finished his third year of school and didn't live at home last summer, this is still the first time he will really be experiencing what his life might be like after he graduates. We talked the whole time and I felt a little regret that we didn't have more time together on the weekend, but he was happy to be heading back. Just before he left he told me I didn't seem like I'd just run 31 miles in the heat and that maybe I just go run some more. I always feel pretty wired after my races (except the 100 milers) and it was thinking about this that gave me the idea for doing some grilling

2 hrs back
As Beat and I drove out of Del Valle another police car and a second ambulance passed going the other direction. A runner had fallen. Beat and Brad had stopped to help her as they descended the final hill. They said she was a bit out of it and was bleeding from going down hard. The race medic came up to help and the first batch of emergency personnel arrived before we departed the park. We were surprised seeing that many more heading back in. Beat was quite worried that this might be a bad sign. We would later learn that another runner had collapsed further back on the course and had to be evacuated by helicopter. The woman Beat helped was apparently doing better even by the time the emergency crews arrived. The man further back had gone unconscious and had to be rushed to the hospital. Latest word is that he is recovering, but was in pretty bad shape early on. In fact, his life was likely saved by the quick action of the runners and hikers who came to his assistance out there in the heat.

Obviously, conditions in this race were tough. Temps over 100 were reported in the valleys. Quite frankly, I'm still not totally sure why I did as well as I did under the circumstances. There were many people out there, much faster than me whom I watched finish. I contemplated this fact as I sat in the cooling waters of the lake waiting for Beat to finish almost an hour after I had. The why still alluded me, but what made the difference were the two things that I managed to handle better than expected: the heat and my uphill pace. This is not to say that the heat did not take a toll on me and the swim really helped my legs as it stopped the twitching in my calves and made them feel better all over. I just expected that the heat would eventually reduce me to a very slow grind on the last section of the race and that my finish would be much more like it was when I did this race 2 years ago as my very first ultra (though for different reasons).

3:45 back
"Sorry for passing you so close to the finish. I really only have one speed on the downhills."
"It's all right," she replied with a sweet British accent.
"See you at the finish," I called back over my shoulder as I cruised down the final hill and finished in just over 6 hours and 47 minutes.

She looked familiar, but I couldn't really place her in my memory. I was just focused on finishin and letting gravity pull me through a final sub-8 minute mile. Later she reminded me that her name was Claire and we met at the Fremont Fat Ass 50K in January. Ah, that's it. My runner's amnesia tends to set in hard especially in the late miles of a race. It especially affects my recollection of names, faces and past conversations. Not so much the actual course or previous runs. Well, unless you ask me about an exact particular milestone.

6 hrs back
"The peak is just over this next hill."
"That's what you said before the last hill!"

Craig caught up with me on the long grind up to Rose Peak. I'd run a lot of the early miles with Beat as we are normally not too far off one another in these shorter ultras. We hit Mission Peak right around 65 minutes. Sooner than I expected given that we walked a lot more than I do in training runs and this is about the same time to the peak. I should probably consider that next time I am shuffling up the steep sections. I had a blast leaping down from the peak and then cruising down the fireroad after the Laurel Loop AS. Beat and I chatted the whole time down until I caught up with Brad just before the road crossing. We entered Sonol a little over 1:45 into the race. Almost the same time I did two years ago, though it was too fast a start for my fitness and experience back then. During the initial climb in Sonol there were a number of friends nearby including Beat, Craig, Brad and Chris. Somehow, though, I felt good on the climb and ended up dropping Beat as we wound up some exposed switchbacks before the first crest. I was trying my experiment of switching between power-hiking and shuffling. However, it turned out to work better to listen more to my body than the terrain to determine when to make the switch. If I found the fast walking pace driving me towards slightly labored breathing, I would try shuffling for a while to slow my breath. If the shuffling started making my calves feel like cramping then I would go back to walking. It seemed to be working as my pace and energy level both maintained.

At the Backpacker's AS, I think Craig was not far behind me, but I didn't really wait around. I grabbed what I needed took the offered sponge over my head and marched up that steep, steep climb. It didn't seem as bad as in past and I planned to dunk my head under the spigot again near the top of the climb. I actually passed two people on this climb which is unusual for me. After the steep stuff it is mostly gradual climbing on very exposed trail heading to the next aid station. This is where my other surprise of managing the heat well came into play. I really didn't do a lot of heat training other than getting in some nice short runs during the few really hot days we had the week before. The one thing I did do was some sort of mental preparation. When the heat arrived in the area I embraced it. I got excited about it and I tried to relax and enjoy it as much as possible whether I was running or not. I don't know if this attitude really helped, but I do know that, mentally, I was not worried about the heat going into Ohlone. I thought to myself, it will either get me or it won't. I also drew on my experiences at both Javelina and C2M and figured if the heat gets me then I just walk more and try to enjoy the day.

Through the Goat Rock AS, I still felt good and was ready for the long, though gradual climb to Rose Peak. This is where Craig caught up with me just as I was talking about him with another runner. I was looking forward to the upcoming downhill sections after the peak. This is my excuse for constantly telling Craig, "it's just over the next hill" as we approached false peak, after false peak. Craig was good about my mis-predictions and we ran together for about 2 1/2 hours, most of the rest of the race. I would leave him on the downhills and then he'd catch up on the next uphill. I would then use him to try to maintain my pace going up. It worked out well for me. I also remember that as I was approaching the peak, I was thinking about how 6-7 hours didn't seem all that long in ultra terms. This is where my experience since the last time running this course really came into play. I also knew exactly what to expect after Rose Peak as that part of the course was burned into my permanent memory as I "death marched" all of the final uphills last time.

After leaving Maggie's Half Acre AS, I knew what remained ahead, I knew what I had left in the tank and I knew what I needed to do to finish. I had mentally tried to "throw out" my sub-7 hour goal with the heat, but I still had it tethered in my mind in order to reel it back in on this final section. I upped my S!Cap intake to every 1/2 hour and switched my fuel intake to just gels for the remaining sections. I learned at Ruth Anderson that when my energy output increases ditching the solid food allows me to maintain a harder effort. So long as I could just keep the cramps out of my calves I would be good. I had one very close call as my right calf started to seize up on the first step out of William's Gulch (aka Satan's Pit). I let out a yelp, but managed to catch it in time. I took one more cap on that hellish climb knowing that there was just over 3 miles left and I wanted to be able to push to the finish. After the last big climb there is one more little hill before the downhill begins in earnest. This was the last I saw of Craig before the finish as I used up whatever I had left knowing that I could gain it all back on the final miles of firetrail descending to the lake.

10+ hrs back
I arrived at the race start early as it is only 4 miles from my house and I knew that parking would be an issue. Milling around, waiting for people to arrive, I thought back to 2006 when I stood here at the start of my first ultra. It had taken me a couple of years to really build up the courage to train for and run an ultra. It had taken me even longer before that to build up the fitness to run anything requiring real endurance. I'd known about and fantasized about ultras for a long time and I was nervous standing there at the start. I didn't know anybody and really didn't know what to expect past 4 1/2 hours. My first post after finishing was the typical "I'm an ultrarunner" statement. Getting to the start of my first ultra was a longer path for me than for many as I didn't go through the "typical" route of running lots of marathons nor did I "dive in" as soon as I first learned about these long trail races. It was something I wanted for a long time and it took a long time to finally achieve.

Now, I guess, I truly am an ultrarunner. It is an integral part of my life and the main source of my friendships outside of work. As more and more people arrived I greeted and chatted with everyone I knew and it seemed that there were more that knew than I didn't. I was relaxed, having fun and looking forward to a great day on the trail. I didn't care about the heat. I wasn't concerned about my time goals. I just wanted to keep moving, enjoy myself, maintain forward momentum. No matter what the day would bring, this would be one to remember.

Recovery or Prep?

Last year, most of my races were separated by at least 3-weeks. I am about to enter my third race at Ohlone with Miwok 2-weeks back and Ruth Anderson 2-weeks prior to that. Now, compared to some folks I know this is no big deal. At least a few folks from the aptly named Yahoo! Group "Ultraholics" are doing what they call the "May Triple". That is Miwok 100K, Quicksilver 50mi and Ohlone 50K on three consecutive weekends. Maybe it's a sort of taper for those truly addicted to running ultras. Not only do I feel like the every other weekend is too much from a personal (and family) time commitment, but I also feel like I can't really get back into the groove before my next race. With the three week split, I had a recovery week, a normal running week and then a prep week. Now I feel like I am going right from recovery to prep and not really sure which stage I am in.

I was feeling pretty beat up after Miwok and took a couple of extra days off followed by a couple of days of very easy running. A Friday 5-miler was a check run to see what I might be able to handle for the weekend. I wanted to try to at least get in 1/2 my normal weekly target, but it would be a challenge with a busy family schedule and Mother's Day on Sunday. Saturday was one of those days were you just fit the running in wherever you can and see what it adds up to in the end. I actually did 3 separate runs and managed to total close to 21-miles on the day and a weekly total of over 35, but most importantly, I felt pretty good in the end. Each run was unique and out of the ordinary routine. However, I enjoyed them all and always love those days where I feel like I am "sneaking in" the miles.

Run 1
5 miles very easy with my wife along the very flat Coyote Creek Lagoon trail in Fremont. My wife wanted to "baseline" her fitness since she hasn't done any running since the start of the year. I really didn't expect her to go beyond 4 miles, but she has such an easy, consistent pace that she just kept going confirming multiple times that she felt good and wasn't pushing it. Why she is starting to run is a story unto itself involving a trips south, lots of asphalt, giant mice and The Happiest Race on Earth. At any rate, it was a beautiful morning and I am going to enjoy training with her with the bonus miles to my schedule along with easy paced running that I have such a hard time doing on my own.

Run 2
After the morning foray and a quickly scarfed breakfast, it was time to take my son to basketball practice and then drop my wife at work. Some poorly-timed traffic accidents on the roads between my two errands meant that this was all I had time for having to rush back home after my son's practice to make sure he had time to get ready for his friend's prom that he would be attending that evening. While he was busy preparing, I did some quick mental math and decided that if I could notch a few extra miles I would still be able to hit 20 miles for the day without extending my planned evening run into the dark. I jumped on the treadmill, turned on the TV and managed to get in 3 miles before I had to grab the camera and head down the street to take the obligatory pre-prom pictures.

Run 3
You gotta love daylight savings when you can hit the trailhead after 5:oopm and still get in a descent run before dark. It's starting to feel like summer. My plan was to go up Mission Peak following the start path of the Ohlone 50K. I wanted to take it easy and simulate the race start as much as possible to try to remind myself not to push on this all too familiar hill. I tried. However, there were a lot of hikers out there and I just have such a mentally hard time containing myself when I just want to push past a large group. I definitely took the first bit harder than I will next week, but I did walk the steepest hills and did the mental exercise of imagining my pace on the various bits of the first climb. Once out on Horse Heaven it was easier to get into my own zone and practice my walking paces. I did go straight up the direct, steep bit even though I have heard the race is going to take the longer, but slightly easier, route over by the horse trough. I hit the peak in just under 65 minutes. I should definitely target a slower time for the race as I know I will open it up on the downhills. My plan for the day was to continue on course going a bit past where the Laurel Loop aid station would be before turning around. I wanted around 12 miles to hit that 20 for the day. The weather was near perfect, a bit warm going up, but breezy at the peak. I always enjoy the downhill section even though it is on firetrail and I probably would have gone all the way to Sonol and back if I had the full day to play with.

On the way back, I played with my uphill pace some more and discovered something that I am going to have to experiment with. I've noticed that on moderate hills, my power-hiking has gotten better. I can maintain a pretty good pace at a maintainable level of effort where my breathing and leg turnover feel in sync. However, when the hill gets steeper, to the point where I can't really keep a flat step, my effort level for a descent walking pace feels really hard and this is reflected in my breathing as well. In fact, I confirmed that it is on these steeper hills where I seem to be able to maintain a sort of shuffle pace with much greater ease than I can a walking pace. It puts a bit more strain on my calves, but the shortened little steps up on my forefeet can be maintained with an easier breathing pattern and at the same or even faster pace. So, here is the experiment I am going to work on. If I just need a walking break or the hill is such that I can maintain a strong stride at a faster pace than my jog then I am going to power-hike it. However, if the hill gets steep to the point where I find myself taking big steps up in order to walk or if I find myself going up on my toes while walking then I am going to switch to the shuffle and see if the effort is easier. There are some obvious exceptions such as going up steps or over large rocks where I would have to jump up if I were shuffling, but I am going to try this out over my next few trail runs and hopefully come to some conclusion before Bighorn 100. I probably shouldn't experiment during a race like Ohlone, but knowing myself I probably will. I mean, where's the adventure if you don't try at least one new thing in each race!

"Well, I finished"

The inevitable answer we give at the end of an ultra when the results weren't quite up to our own internal expectations of performance, were behind some goal we'd set for ourselves or when we simply finished feeling a whole lot more beat up than planned. I finished this race 20 minutes slower than last year which, considering my starting condition, is something I should be fairly satisfied with. However, all those pre-game excuses just seem to go out the window once you are in the race and especially when you are feeling good in those early miles. I think I still had that elusive 12-hour finish stuck in the back of my mind and I know that I really wanted to better last year's time. Being one who likes variety, I don't often repeat races and, being still relatively new to ultras, I have always improved my times when I have returned to a particular venue. This was my first repeat race where the return engagement yielded in a slower finish time. In the end, there is always something to be learned. So, rather than run through my normal details of the race, section by section, I am going to follow up on the theme from my last post.

This is what I learned from my 2nd Miwok 100K

• Don't listen to other people
• Right at the start I saw Meridith whom I had met last year at this race where we helped one another push through some tough bits. Meridith insisted we were both going to break 12 hours. While I'd claimed to have given up on that goal, it was obviously still there in my head and this probably fueled my pushing more in the early miles than I should have.
  
• OK, sometimes listen to other people
• I also met Olga at the start and spent some time with her early in the race and then again later before the turnaround. It was great to meet her after exchanging blog comments over the years. We also both had original 12-hour goals, but she was dealing with her own pre-race issues and we both agreed that today might not be the day. At one point I remember her saying to me, "you know, you do sound like you are still a bit sick." This was early on and probably should have been a clue.
• Listen to your body
• Early in the race I decided to work on my uphill pace. Specifically, my poor power-hiking speed. I felt like I was doing well and keeping close to people who would normally drop me on the uphills (I usually then catch them on the downhills). However, by around mile 12, my hamstrings were feeling very tight and both them and my calves felt on the verge of cramping. I tried upping my electrolytes, assuring I was hydrated and focusing on my fuel, but the feeling pretty much never abated. This basically hearkened back to last year's Mt. Diablo 50K where I had also been ill the week before the race. The cramping feeling stuck around that whole day there as well. Sometimes, your body is telling you that it just isn't up for effort and nothing you do is going to let you push it beyond that point. At least, not without paying a price.
• Listen to yourself
• I did say, even publicly, that I was letting go of that 12-hour goal and I remember thinking that if I needed a goal to focus on that 13 might be a bit more achievable. My focus was supposed to be on feeling good and enjoying the day. And, truth is, there was much to enjoy and many things that did go right. For the second race in a row, I anticipated and pushed more smoothly through the 4-hour barrier. I had a descent recovery after the turnaround (though not as good as last year) and I even hit Pantoll Station on the way back at near the same time (10 hours). However, I knew there was much less "there" in terms of overall energy and my body was just not in the same condition it was last year. It is pretty much as I said going into the race.
• Remember what you've said in the past
  
• At the end of last year's race my initial thoughts were that, unlike at the end of some other races, "I did not immediately think that I could come back and run this better next year. Just finishing Miwok in whatever time I could is such an accomplishment that coming back and doing it again would just be icing." I probably should have read my race report from last year before hitting the starting line this year. Last year I approached Miwok as a goal race for the season. I had run a couple of 50Ks and one 50mi which was three weeks out. I was healthy, tapered and focused. This year, I've already run a tough 100-miler and two 50mi with the most recent one being a PR performance just two weeks prior to Miwok. Furthermore, I came down with a nasty cold immediately afterwards and was sick for a week. Now, why exactly did I think I might actually be able to better my previous performance?
  
• Listen to your wife
• As well as being the voice inside my head that pushes me through some of the tough spots, my wife usually sends me off in the morning before my races with two very important pieces of advice: "Don't hurt yourself and have fun." At the end of the day, these two goals should be all that really matters. While I did take one nice fall and I have the sorest post-race legs I have had in a long time, I didn't do anything that I would consider "hurting myself". I also definitely did have fun out there despite the discomfort. In fact, no moment will stick better in my head from this year's race than having Craig hand me an ice cream sandwich at the mile 49.5 aid station. Though not an ultrarunner, my wife is a fellow ice cream lover and can certainly appreciate the pure child-like joy of receiving this unexpected gift of sweet-milky-icy-goodness. Craig is my hero!
• Occasionally, listen to your kids
• Sunday morning I was hobbling around as my son came home from his friend's house so I could drive him to basketball practice. He asked me how my race went. I said, "20 minutes slower than last year" probably sounding more dejected than intended. He just gave me a funny look and said, "you've been sick" with the "what'd you expect" added by the tone in his voice. It was kind of a "duh!" moment and all I could do was smile. It was the role-reversal from the times when he'd be down after a bad game and we'd try to lift him up, but still provide the necessary dose of reality. Sometimes, I just need to take my own medicine.

In the end Miwok is, as I said last year, a tough race. I learned that if the day isn't right you can work harder from end to end, push yourself more, finish with less in the tank and feel more beat up at the afterwards, but still perform worse. Gary Cantrell has a great article in this month's Ultrarunning Magazine where he says (paraphrasing) that "without the possibility of failure, success is meaningless" This emphasizes one more thing that I love about this sport. With all the ups and downs, low points and amazing recoveries, you never really know how your race is going to come out until you are literally almost done. You can crash and burn at the end of a long race, you can make up an amazing amount of time in just the last 20% or you can sustain and hold everything together for a lot longer than you might think.

Final thoughts. 100K is a tough distance, especially on trails. Even though someone like Dave Mackey, who crushed the course record this year, may be able to finish in under 8 hours, for most of us mere mortals this is one long, all-day affair. I heard a certain sentiment echoed by a few others during the post-run BBQ that I agree with even though it may sound rather strange to the uninitiated. In some ways, running 100K is actually harder than running 100 miles. Don't get me wrong, 100-milers are tough. They take more than just physical endurance and I have never felt so completely drained, physically, mentally and emotionally as at the end (or even the next day after) completing 100 miles. However, there are times in a 100 mile race when most of us take a more relaxed attitude. I definitely force myself to take it much, much easier in the early miles. I never worry about the minutes. I often take a little extra time at an aid station if its warranted, especially during the night hours. If I find I am really not feeling well, the idea of just walking for an hour or so is not out of the question. Finally, there are times during a 100 miler where ALL that matters is making forward progress; a 20 minute mile may bring me to near delirium. On the other hand, in a 100K, the possibility to really push myself from start to finish is a reality. In a race like Miwok where there are plenty of hills, but all of which would be runnable in a shorter event, the desire to "go, go, go" is ever-present. Starting in the morning and wanting to finish before dark (or not too far into dark for some) is a further added incentive. Basically, outside of the elite group, the 100K is about the longest standard race distance that most of us can run in a single day and so, to me at least, it's the longest distance that still feels like a race. A very long, hard race.

What I Learned

OK, so I already blogged my pre-race excuse for the upcoming Miwok 100K. Nice to get that out of the way. I did an easy 5-mile check run yesterday and it looks like I will at least have no problem starting the race come Saturday. I guess I should focus on the actual race now. Looking back to last year I think of Miwok as when I transitioned to focusing on the longer events. While I still hadn't done my first 100-miler yet, Miwok was the race where I felt confident that I could go the longer distance. Also, it was the first race where I became convinced that I could run all day even if my plans went awry. I learned a lot from that race.

It started from the point at which I realized that I had left my waste pack at home. I started the race with a single bottle, without my gel flask, sans ibuprofen and without my electrolyte tabs. I made the decision to just drink more at each aid station and to eat as much salty food as I could. I ended up grabbing a second bottle at Pantoll even though I had no holder for it. I hit a bad spell on the way out on Bolinas Ridge with the heat and cambered trail messing with my mind and body. Despite all of this I finished and finished strong.

The main things I learned last year:

• Be flexible
• The main thing I learned last year was that all my upfront planning could go wrong and I could still make it through a long race. I am able to survive nearly completley on aid station fare if necessary. Since Miwok, I stressed a lot less about getting everything together before the race.
  
• Start using handhelds
• Before Miwok I never liked using two handheld bottles preferring a single bottle and a waste belt. Since that race I have now gone to using two handhelds and enjoy the feeling of having less on my body. I now use a pack only for 100-milers and then mainly at night.
• Electrolyte pill are not mandatory
  
• I still use S!Caps as they make it much easier to monitor salt intake, but they are really a modern luxury and the tried and true salty foods can work just fine. I do recall dipping both watermelon and a PB&J into salt at one aid station!
• Limit those pain meds
• At my first 50-miler, I really suffered from foot pain and only managed to feel better after hitting some ibuprofen in the last 5 miles. I started relying on it more and more in my races after that. I realized at Miwok that, while it is still sometimes necessary, I could get by for much longer on much less of it. After that I focused on limiting my use of "vitamin I" as much as possible.
• I can and will recover
• At Dick Collins I had a really bad spell, but never really recovered until maybe the last 5 miles. At other races I really only had shorter bad spots. Perhaps the biggest lesson I learned at Miwok was that I could have an extended bad spell in the middle of a race and still come back and run strong in the end. Since that race I have had much worse and much longer bad sections and recovered. I have found myself running (sometimes hard) at the end of 100-milers where I expected continued degradation. More than anything else Miwok taught me patience and perseverance.

Despite feeling less than fully prepared for this race, I am now really looking forward to Saturday morning. I look forward to an all day run and I especially look forward to seeing what new things I may learn in this year's race.

Miwok pre-talk

Four days until the Miwok 100K and I haven't run a step since the Ruth Anderson race over a week ago. I initially blamed the chest congestion after the race on all the dust in the air from the windy conditions. I tried to do the same for the sinus issues that developed the following day. Another day and a few more symptoms finally exhausted my usually abundant stores of denial and I was forced to admit that I was indeed sick. I must have caught something from a workmate who was ill the week before and my race-weakened immune system was in no condition to fight it off. With all the fits and starts this year due to illness, I was at least adept at dealing with such problems and I immediately ordered myself a big dose of rest. I was tempted to go for a run while in Vegas the past weekend for my son's basketball tournament (they took 2nd place), but held off even then. My plan is to do a couple easy runs and some yoga this week and just try to go into the race as rested and recovered as possible.

Normally, I would be spending this post writing about the race and my goals. I would probably be thinking about something like trying to get close to 12 hours. Now I just want to feel good enough at the starting line to enjoy the entire day out there. My focus will be to take it extra easy from the start and, knowing the course pretty well, just trying to feel good all the way through the long Bolinas Ridge section on the way out. Certainly, my training plan for this year hasn't gone quite as expected, but I feel like I have plenty of base stored up to do the race and try to finish comfortably. My next big race is in June and, while its a bit too far out, I should try and treat Miwok as a training run or, rather, further base building towards my next 100. Should be a fun time regardless as there aren't many places better than the Marin hills to spend and entire day tromping around.

One Tough Lady

Those words certainly could be used to describe ultrarunning legend and pioneer, Ruth Anderson both for her incredible masters running career and her tireless dedication to and advocacy of the sport. However, the race that bears her name is generally considered anything but "tough" by ultra standards. The race consists of an approximately 4.5 mi loop around Lake Merced in San Francisco. Runners complete loops around an asphalt path (or the dirt trail along side it) that contains only a couple very gentle slopes with two aid stations per loop. Runners repeat either a just under 7 loops (50K), just over 11 loops (50mi) or just under 14 loops (100K) and are allowed to opt for the 50K or 50mi distance just before completing it (with the caveat that should you choose to continue on you must complete the longer distance or be listed as DNF). Typical springtime weather in this part of the city is cool, but generally mild with some light sea breezes sweeping over from The Great Highway. This sounds like perfect running conditions and this race is popular with those looking for fast times or a PR at one of the distances. However, this year the weather had a little something in store for those who might have labored under the misapprehension that you could ever take an ultrarun lightly.

This is not normally my type of race. I generally crave variety in both scenery and terrain. I enjoy tough courses as they compensate for (or at least distract me from) my lack of natural running talent. Running in circles on a flat path seemed like something that neither my mind nor my body were going to particularly enjoy. When I commented on this during the race, someone asked me "then, why are you wearing a Javelina shirt?" I will just say this, there is a big difference between 15.5 mile loops and 4.5 mile loops and Javelina is most definitely a trail run with desert scenery, some rocky sections and more hills than most people realize. This was essentially a road race set in a very pretty, but still somewhat urban city landscape. However, since I wasn't able to run Diablo this was my only weekend and only race with the opportunity to put a good 50+mi distance on my legs this month.

My goals for the race were as follows:

1. Get in a good long training run (at least 50mi) before Miwok.
2. Try to have fun running around in circles
   
3. Clock a 50mi PR since it would be the flattest race I'd ever run.
4. Go significantly under 9 hours for 50mi by averaging 10-mpm as long as possible
5. Clock a 100K PR
6. Go under 11 hours for 100K by averaging 10:30-mpm as long as possible
7. Learn something about pacing and how my body reacts to a constant gate

Well, surprises were in store for me in this race and the first one came the minute I stepped out of my car at 5:45am in the parking lot. I'd heard the weather report the night before saying it was going to be cool and breezy for the weekend, but that wasn't even close to an apt description for what was hitting us. Early morning temps were in the 40s, but the real kicker was a continuous wind of between 25-35 mph coming from the northwest (ocean) direction. There won't be a detailed description of the various segments in this race report because the one thing that was not a surprise was the repetitive nature of this type of run. However, the biggest variety that this day had to offer was the wind that just never seemed to stop and actually felt like it was getting stronger as the day went on.

The headwinds hit just as you were heading up the gradual slope from the mid-loop aid station to the start/finish area. To make matters worse, this cold ocean breeze would occasionally dish out gusts that would literally stop runners in their tracks or threaten to knock you over from the side. However, the real pièce de résistance came as the winds would whip up dirt, dust and sand into your face both from the path itself and carried over from Ocean Beach to the north. I'm not generally much for integrating walking breaks that aren't dictated by the course, but after about 20 miles I realized it was just wasteful to be pushing into those breezes. I even turned and jogged backwards a few times to avoid being assaulted by the wind and everything it brought with it. My first 3 laps were averaged below 9:30s, but the pace began to degrade from there. I maintained the 10-mpm average up through the 50K mark (hitting it at just over 5:10) where the vast majority of the runners (30 of 43 finishers) decided they'd had enough of the wind and took the finish.

Someone told me I was in like 3rd or 4th place and even though this didn't seem right, perhaps that is what fueled my drop in pace over the next lap. However, it's more likely that my mental math is what really helped me up the pace. I realized that if I could keep the running average to under 10:12-mpm that I could break 8:30 for the 50 miles. This basically works out to around 10:30 mpm for the final 19 miles though I didn't have that particular number in my mind, I was monitoring the average pace on my GPS as it crept up. The wind definitely felt like it was dishing out a beating, though with my low center of gravity I was perhaps less effected than some. I was feeling decent and maintaining well. I'd pushed through the 4 hour barrier without too much trouble and thought I could maintain my lap 8 pace with perhaps even a faster lap or so to hit 50 miles. My plan was then to ease up for a lap and just do the final 2 laps for the 100K with whatever I had left in the tank.

It hit around mile 38 just before the last bit of the toughest headwind section. A small, but sharp pain on the outside of my left knee. It made me pull up and stop immediately. I jogged a few paces and still felt it. I shook my leg, rubbed the IT Band and walked a little before trying to run again. I could still feel it so I stopped and stretched and rubbed the ITB some more. It was the same spot I had felt during C2M on some of the downhills where I had to resort to rock hopping. Why it was hurting now, I didn't know as I hadn't stepped wrong or anything. I concluded that it was a tight ITB and did some more rubbing and stretching before I felt OK to continue. I was able to run, but the constant feeling of pulling was there all the way to the main aid station. I was pretty sure it was just tightness so I decided to take some ibuprofen and continue on, but I also decided that I was only going to go for a 50mi finish as there was no point risking any more than necessary.

I was pretty sure that the time I wasted on that lap had killed an 8:30 finish so I set my sights on 8:35 in order to have a goal. I was actually able to pick the pace back up in lap 10 as I passed Charles Blakeney whom I had been going back and forth with for a couple laps. I told him not to worry as I would be stopping at 50. I was told at the aid station that Mark Tanaka had gone on for 100K where he was pretty much assured the win and that there were a couple others ahead of me likely to do only 50. I took the last lap at a decent pace just hoping for a good final time and not to be lapped again by Mark. Since the course is measured to finish the 100K at the final aid station, the 50 mile finishers go past it on their final lap and do an extra mile before walking back. It's kind of strange, but that's how the course was certified so that's how it stands. I was told I had 4th place (3rd man) locked up as I headed out from the aid station for my final mile
(or so) at a little past 8:20. I didn't know the exact measure, but figured a little over a mile so even keeping a 9-mpm wasn't going to break 8:30. However, I was very happy to come in just over 8 hrs and 33 mins. This was a 50mi PR by almost 40 minutes. Given the windy conditions there is probably still some room to bring it down further, but my thought when I realized this was simply "yeah, but I don't really want to."

As I walked back to the aid station I realized I felt pretty beat. My feet really hurt much more than in any recent race including my 100 miler the month before. It felt like my body had taken a pretty big toll for what was supposed to be an "easy" race. I enjoyed the day and I was especially impressed with the job the RD and volunteers had done in such windy and cold conditions. While I was happy with my performance, I still didn't feel any affinity for this type of race. However, one final surprise awaited me in the end. Even though I finished just above the middle of the 50 milers (heck, there were only 9 of us), I was actually the first in the men's 30-39 division! I got to take home a little plaque that will eventually have my name and time on it. Only in ultrarunning can a mid-packer like myself get bested by one woman and two older men and still win first place! Way too funny.

Since

Other than working on my long race report, what have I been doing since C2M, you may ask.

Well, I headed to Costa Rica immediately after for some serious R&R in the sun. I did end up doing some running (6mi on the beach and 3mi around my brother-in-law's neighborhood), but mostly I just chilled out, ate and drank (probably too much of each). It was a short trip, but we had a great time including other activities such as swimming, zip-line and ATVs. My recovery from the 100-miler was pretty quick and I was ready to regular running within a week.

The weekend right after that I ended up heading down to Tucson, AZ to visit my son in college who was having a father-son weekend at his fraternity. Knowing that he wouldn't be up early on the weekend, I planned to get some runs in the beautiful Arizona desert on Saturday and Sunday morning. I took some recommendations from local resident (and blogger) Angie. On Saturday, I headed to the Saguaro Desert where I'd run before.

I decided to follow the Douglas Spring Trail which I had done a 12 miler on the last time I was there. I didn't bring my hydration pack, but should have as I wanted to do a longer run this trip. With relatively mild temps and an early start time, I hoped that two water bottles would suffice. I immediately forgot how tough the start of this trail was with the first 2 miles filled with many large rock steps (some above knee height). I decided to work on my run-walk-run transitions and power-hike anything with steps over mid-shin. Eventually, the trail smooths out and becomes much more runnable. I hadn't been up above the campground which is around 6.5 miles so I wanted to go beyond this point. I went about another mile and a half before turning around. The weather was cool and there was a nice breeze up higher (about 5500ft elevation, 2800 up from the start). The terrain changed here and became more lush with actual trees alongside the cacti. I wished I'd brought my pack, but with limited fluid (and even more limited fuel), I had to turn around. The downhill is a blast at least until those last couple miles where the rock-hopping slows the pace dramatically. I finished with drained bottles and it was warm, but not hot so I wasn't too beat up, but felt well worked by the 16 miles and 3000+ft

On Sunday morning I headed over to Sabino Canyon where Angie recommended some trails. The first was Telephone Line Trail that heads along the main Sabino Canyon and had a trail around mile 5.5 leading down to the canyon road where water would be available so I used only a single bottle and had food in my car where I planned to head after the out-and-back and before taking another trail for an out-and-back to add mileage. Unfortunately, the water was off so I took the risk of filling from the creek. It was either that or run the road back and the trail that I had run out was just way too incredible to resist. It was technical and challenging, but totally runnable. In fact, I had a blast pushing the pace on the gradual downhill grade. I returned my car at a little under 12 miles and ate and drank my fill. It was starting to warm up and pushing the pace took a bit of a toll. It was a bit of a challenge to get going again. I planned to head out on the Bear Canyon Trail to Seven Falls for close to 20 miles total. This trail was much less runnable with some sandy sections and many creek crossings as well as some rough trail going up and down the side of the canyon wall. It was also getting quite warm and I splashed myself with water a few times, but eventually decided that turning around before reaching the falls would be prudent. I stopped at a good sized pool, dunked my head and turned back. There is a water spigot a couple of miles into this trail so hydration wasn't an issue. However, I was certainly not heat acclimated. I trudged through the final few miles totaling a bit over 18.5 for the day, but feeling like I had put much more on my body as the temps were approaching 90. I was worked! With a weekend total of 34.5 miles and over +/-6000ft, I had definitely gotten a workout. However, the desert running was just the thing I needed to confirm my recovery from C2M.

The following weekend I was scheduled to run the Diablo 50 miler. However, when I signed up for this race, I didn't had the weekend before open in my schedule. This meant that I would have to celebrate the plethora of family April birthday's (wife, mother, nephew, mother-in-law) on this weekend. Furthermore, my son had basketball practice and a parent's meeting on Saturday. It was clear that priorities would have to override the race plans. I really want to do this tough and beautiful race, but it will have to wait for another year. I managed to get an 11.5 miler in on Friday afternoon on Mission Peak and would have to fill the rest of my weekend running on Sunday as Saturday was all about family. I headed over to Pleasanton Ridge for 9.4 miles of at a stiff 9:30 mpm pace while my son was at practice. I then filled the rest of my miles (just over 14) back on Mission Peak in the afternoon. Both the Sunday runs were in warm temps, but I actually felt a bit more adjusted than the previous weekend.

Finally, I needed something to replace the 50 miler that I missed at Diablo. My son is heading to Colorado this coming weekend for a tournament so I have an open weekend at home. I decided to do a race that I would normally never put on my schedule. With an near-urban setting that consists of flat, circular loops around a 4.5 mile course, the Ruth Anderson race is the polar-opposite of Diablo and not the type of running that I generally enjoy. However, the new RD, Rajeev Patel, is a friend and I know others doing the race so I am going to treat it as just a fun time running around a lake. I am signed up for the 100K, but the race allows you to change your mind when you reach either 50K or 50m. I plan to do at least 50 miles and expect a PR based on the course, but I am trying very hard not to go into this with any expectations but a good time and a long run.

Epics and essences

Partly due to the normal post-100 lack of ambition and partly due to just not knowing how I would approach this thing, I have put off writing my Coyote Two Moons race report. If my Javelina report was a novel then what the heck was I going to produce for this epic run? A mini-series? It would not only take me forever to finish, but it would likely be unreadable in the end. So, in a valiant attempt to buck my own trend of exceedingly long race reports, I am going to try to capture just the "essence" of this event. My plan is to provide enough summary of the race and course to give anyone considering it in the future an idea of what its about, but also to provide highlights of the most important moments of the experience of "being out there."

The first challenge is simply in breaking the whole thing down. Luckily, one of the other race participants, Jakob Hermann, did much of the work for me well before the race. He posted a set of maps and profiles of each "section" of the race on the Zombie Runner Forums. These were a huge help in planning for the course in terms of time estimates, drop bags and just general expectations. They will also be used as my guide below in describing the race and trying to detail one or two essential characteristics of each of the sections. Jakob also has some good pictures of the race along with commentary for each and has posted his own race report on the Fried Quads forums.

Before I start, I will also provide links to some other pictures and reports in case you don't believe I will be able to keep this thing to a reasonable length (I wouldn't) and prefer to get a more concise view of the event. Chris Marolf and I traveled together to the race as well as in many of the early miles. His excellent report is posted on the Runner's World Forums and he has some wonderful pictures as well. Craig (and Leslie) also posted a report on the forums and Leslie included some pictures. Some really excellent photo samples are also available from perennial ultra photographer Glen Tachiyama who was on the course taking professional quality snaps. Finally, the RD himself has a report up which will definitely give you a whole different perspective of the event.

Background, prep, getting there, etc.
I am not going to go into too much detail here. This event is very unique not only in terms of the course itself, but also in terms of all the extra-curricular activities surrounding the event (i.e. bowling). You can read about these elsewhere as I did not participate due to time and logistical constraints. I drove down to Arroyo Grande on Thursday afternoon with Chris and invited a few others to join us (Harry Walther, Craig and company) in order to break up the 6 hour drive from the Bay Area. This allowed a reasonable night's sleep though I would recommend that anyone considering this event not underestimate the importance of getting as much sleep as possible in the week leading to the event itself. By the second night, a lack of proper rest can quite literally end your race. We also tried to get a nap in before the 6pm start, but, really, that was quite futile so just plan for sleep well before the race.

The last pre-race comments I will make are a little bit about planning. The details of the staggered start can be found on the race site so I won't go into that. However, one thing to know is that your start time will definitely effect your drop bag plans so try to spend some time figuring out where you expect to be at different times. I was in the 6pm start group which meant that we would get some daylight on the first day, but I basically planned for running at night from the start. Chris and I worked out a plan using the maps that Jakob posted (see below) that assumed the first transition from night to day would be at the Thatcher Aid Station and the second transition back to night would be at Gridley Bottom. Depending on your start time and expected pace this could be very different, so spend some time planning and estimating as best you can.

OK, without further adieu, let's get to the race. I am not only going to use Jakob's images below, but also his titles for the various sections so excuse my lack of creativity.


Start to Sisar
(A nice chunk to get out of the way, right quick)

Summary:
As it appears in the profile, this section has the least climbing and one of the longest descents. Perfect for a downhiller like me and my challenge would be to not take this initial, longest, section too fast. It appears that the climb to the ridge is pretty steep, but really you are too busy just walking and talking at this point to really notice. Arriving at the ridge for the 6pm group was at sunset so it was quite beautiful. One note of caution is that the ridge is not flat at all and contains some steep little ups and downs. It is also quite a ways to the first aid station, but this is just fine as its the start of the race. The "water only" station that shows on the map (and in the course description) never seemed to materialize. Since it was in the middle of a long downhill section and I had a hydration pack it was not a problem for this leg. The 8+ miles of downhill is a long firetrail descent that is very runnable with the exception of some rocky sections and a few creek crossings that were easy to navigate without getting wet. I ran this section mostly with Chris and Rod Dickson who was running his 25-year anniversary 100-miler (wow!). We arrived at the Sisar Aid Station around 9:15, a bit ahead of our planned 31/2 hours. The important aspects of this section are really about getting into the groove of things and just putting some miles in the bank. While it is the longest section distance wise, it is the shortest time wise. Basically, it is a relatively easy section that really does nothing to prepare you for the big ups and downs that will make up the remainder of the race.
Highlights
Two things stick out in my mind about this section. The first is simply being up on the ridge at sunset. The beauty of it really can only be captured by this amazing photo that Chris took of me during this time.

(photo by Chris Marolf)

That pretty much says it all. Basically, I was surprised right away with just how beautiful this course was. I expected barren, shrub-filled, Southern California hills. What I got was amazing vistas of mountains, valleys, city lights and the ocean in the distance.
The second part of this leg that sticks out in my mind is simply the anticipation of getting to that first off-ridge aid station. Because the course was broken up in my mind into these sections of off-ridge/on-ridge/off-ridge, I really wanted to have one big chunk done. My love of downhill is well known, but the long fireroad down to Sisar was certainly not my favorite. In fact, I remember looking forward to finishing it and walking the uphill even though I knew I would be quite slow there. This "fast section" seemed to take much longer than it really did. However, once I was out of Sisar, it was a nice boost to know that a big chunk of the course was already under my belt.


Sisar to Rose Valley
(Ups-and-downs in more ways than one)

Summary:
What would you expect to follow the longest downhill section on the course other than the longest (and biggest) climb. Knowing ahead of time that you are going to climb around 4300ft in less than 7 1/2 miles, can help with the mental preparation for this leg. However, it is a long way from Sisar to the Lyon Canyon Aid Station at around mile 6 so don't underestimate your fuel and hydration needs for this trek. I had plenty of water even with the fictitious nature of the water-only aid station, but if you are not carrying a pack be aware that its going to be at least a couple hours for a mid-packer between these stations. Fueling is another issue and I underestimated here since I didn't feel the need for much at Sisar having just gone on a long downhill. Not only is two hours a long time without fuel, but it passed through the 4 hour mark which is always a transition point for me physiologically. I didn't realize any of this until hitting the aid station where I took in extra fuel before tackling the super-steep and somewhat sketchy ascent to Topa Peak. Rod was also at this aid station having a pretty difficult time as well so I imagine I am not the only one who underestimated this climb.
OK, so that's my cautionary tale, but how to describe this leg in summary? This is one of the most varied sections of the entire course. You start climbing up the gradual fireroad from Sisar. Eventually you cut off the road onto single track that winds along the hillside and then into some deep woods. Above the woods and just below the aid station it becomes much steeper with bad footing on loose, rocky, cambered trail. This was the toughest bit for me. After the aid station you traverse the fireroad a little more before hitting up single-track to the top of the peak. This section is incredible. It wound through scree and snow patches and the trail often simply disappeared. It is incredible steep and some sections are a bit dicey especially as people are heading in both directions. The peak is over 6000ft and the highest point on the course. However, even with the snow patches and wind, it was amazing up there. It was not that cold and you could see for miles in the clear air. However, there was no time to dally as the downhill is almost as slow as the up and the aid station guys had assigned a task of returning with a card pulled from a deck placed at the top. It was only about a 2 mile round trip to the peak and back, but it took nearly an hour.
After the peak, the course looks to be all nice downhill to Rose Valley. It starts on fireroad and then turns off onto singletrack as it heads down. I caught up with Chris at this point and was looking forward to some nice runnable, downhill. While I did run quite a bit of this section, I will admit what many others have said. This section is a bit scary. The trail is steeply cambered in parts on loose dirt and rocks. A glance to the right reveals that a mis-step could easily result in a long, unstoppable slide ending in...who knows! Other parts further down are on rocky ledges with drop-offs. Eventually you reach something that feels like the valley floor and, what appears on the profile as a couple miles of runnable terrain. The first thing to note is that, at the time we reached this section (a little before 2am) the temperature was plummeting. The second thing to note is that the little bump you see on the profile just before mile 14 is actually a very steep little climb to remind you that this course is never to be flat for long. Finally, just before the aid station there is a relatively large creek crossing that doesn't appear to have any rocks to traverse. However, I was lucky to have someone give me the "beta" that if you travel downstream a ways you can cross without getting wet. This was a godsend as it was apparently around 22 degrees in this valley and being wet was not something that you wanted at this point. Unfortunately, I still managed to do so as I went off trail just a few yards before the aid station and ended up crossing a muddy bog to regain the trail. My right foot sunk into the freezing, muddy muck.
Highlights
As I mentioned, this section is quite varied. However, there really is only one big highlight and that is being on top of the peak. The image and feeling of standing up on Topa under a full moon with views in all directions will be forever burned into my mind. This is the only part of the race (other than some later aid stations for different reasons) where I really wanted to just stop. I could imagine a hike up here would be incredible and doing it during the day one would want to just hang out, have lunch and take in the views. However, this was a race (of sorts) so "hanging out" wasn't an option. I've heard hikers occasionally denigrate our sport claiming that we don't take the time to enjoy the environments through which we run. I would counter this by saying that what we lose in temporal perception we make up for in intensity. There is something about experiencing one's environment in a heightened emotional state that leaves an impression so much deeper than might be expected given the brevity.


Rose Valley to Thatcher
(Alone and alive)

Summary:
With the sub-freezing temperature, Rose Valley was definitely not a place to dilly dally and Chris headed off before me as I was fiddling with the charger for my GPS watch. Realizing how stupid it was to be playing with a bit of technology as my body temperature continued to drop, I ended up just tossing the whole thing in my drop bag and heading out. I would just have to see how long the watch would last under its own power. I didn't have any really warm clothes here so I just had to make due with my gloves and light shell. It was really hard to get warm and my fingers were especially freezing. I actually ran some of the uphills here just to try and get my body warm. It also let me catch up with Chris for a bit. There were many people coming down now both from our own group and, as we drew closer to the top, from the 9pm start group as well. We tried to warn everyone about both the creek crossing and the freezing temps below.
In my memory this uphill didn't seem to take that long, but it is about 6 miles back to the aid station on the ridge so I imagine it took longer than I recall. It was probably around 2 1/2 hours.
I met back up with Chris at the aid station. It was a little after 5am and our plan was to make it to Tatcher at 9am which is when that aid station was supposed to open. We agreed to take it easy on the next downhill section, but once I got my legs moving, I had to just open it up. This was the first downhill that I remember truly enjoying. I was cruising and feeling great. As I was going through the woods, the leaders of the 2am start group were heading up. Those guys were fast! I eventually made it to the fireroad where I would have to head back uphill for a few. Still feeling good, I worked on keeping a decent uphill pace. The sun was up and with it my first wave of feeling tired. Unlike most other people, the sunrise tends to have the opposite effect on me. I focused on the views and as the fireroad rose and wound around the ridge, I started looking for the cutoff trail down to Tatcher. If I ended up at the other on-ridge aid station, it would be too far. Luckily, the cutoff was well marked, though I was curious why there was also an arrow pointing down it from the other direction.
I was happy to be heading down, but this trail was not going to be the most runnable. Lots of steps and rocky, steep sections assured that I would not be returning to cruising speed. It was also bothering my ITB a bit as I was constantly having to brake going down. However, my mental attitude was good and I was still enjoying myself tremendously. This is also the section where the front of the 6pm group should be meeting with the bulk of the 4pm group. Of course, the real leaders of each (i.e. the big sandbaggers) were heading up as I was about half way down the trail. I heard from Andy Kumeda (who ended up finishing many hours ahead of schedule) that the aid station wasn't even set up yet nor were his drop bags present. I decided that if that were still the case for me that I would simply take a seat and wait for both to arrive. Luckily, I didn't have to contend with that situation.
Highlight
In every long race there comes a period where I am running by myself and just really enjoying it. This section was one of those times. I enjoyed the brilliant downhill through the woods, I enjoyed the uphill on the fireroad. The views at sunrise and even hopping down towards Thatcher trying to maintain a decent gate. It was one of those times when you remind yourself, "this is exactly why I run these things." The sense of joy that comes from the simple pleasure of just "being out there." I felt alive.


Thatcher to Rose Valley
(What a difference the day makes)

Summary
First, a word about the aid stations. Overall, they were all tremendous. The volunteers were excellent and worked hard to maintain the sense of fun that this event was meant to have. However, Thatcher definitely took the cake in terms of food. It was breakfast time and I was hungry. This aid station had it all. Not just the normal fare of chips and PB&J (both of which I partook), but I also downed a Coffee Frappuccino while I ate homemade potstickers over fried rice with pine nuts in it. Outstanding! In fact, I kind of stuffed myself. I reasoned that it would be OK as there was a nice long uphill ahead of me, I was still ahead of schedule and totally fine with taking it easy. I headed out along with Nick Ham (aka BritNick), but he quickly left me in the dust as he powered up hill. I had decided to take it easy at least on the initial part of this uphill. I had just finished over half of the race distance, but knew I was at least a couple hours from being half way in terms of time. Heading up Thatcher, the day started to warm up. Right about half way up for me, in the exposed part of the trail, it became downright hot. Steep uphill, a full belly and rising temps made for a very bad combination. The remainder of this climb was tortuous as I slowly made my way up the hill with my stomach retching. To add insult to injury, the first group of 100K runners were starting to head down. They were just at the start of their run looking fresh and happy. What could be worse than crawling your way up a hot, steep trail dealing with digestion issues at mile 52+ as a bunch of chipper looking folks come trotting down with only 10 miles on their legs and big smiles on their faces? I tried to be as friendly as possible, but let them know how much I appreciated them with my typical dose of sarcasm.
I eventually made it to the ridge with great relief. I walked a bit more along the ridge to cool down a bit and then knowing that the aid station was less than a mile away I shuffled along. This aid station was the same as the first one we encountered at mile 9. The climb up had taken a couple of hours and my stomach had finally settled. Fresh melon was my savior at this point. I was ready for one of those miraculous recoveries that often come at the end of the long struggle. I took off from here at a decent pace, but only made it about 1/2 mile before needing an emergency pit stop after which I felt much, much better. The next section along the ridge was great especially as I hit a couple of snow patches and grabbing a handful allowed me to cool myself as I ran. The second wave of 100K runners were now heading out along the ridge and seeing some friendly faces including Meredeth was a big boost. I kept a good pace here and even managed to shuffle up some of the hills. Eventually I reached the turnoff to the road that led back down to Rose Valley. This we had passed around mile 4 and some people headed down it despite the very large sign indicating that it was probably not the right direction.

(photo by Glen Tachayama)

Those 2 miles down to Rose Valley don't look particularly steep on the profile, but it is pretty much straight down. I decided to run this as I wanted to open up my legs even though I knew it was probably not a good idea for my feet at this point given that the grade was just beyond what I would consider runnable conditions. It felt good to arrive back at Rose Valley under completely opposite temperature conditions (something like a 65-70 degree difference) and it felt especially good to have the 100K mark taken care of.
Highlights
The highlights for this section were really more like "low-lights" as the climb in the heat and my stomach complaining the whole time were definitely a major low. I never actually lost my cookies or anything, but it just kept churning over and threatening to do so. I'm never at my best in the heat, add a steep climb and an overly full belly to that and it seemed like a recipe for disaster. I focused on just continuing to move and began a mantra that would turn out to be so important much later in the race, "forward motion, is better than no motion." The strange thing is that knowing how much of the race I still had ahead of me actually made it easier to push through this section. I guess experience pays off as I knew I would get past this bad section and looking forward helped me to not overly focus on the issues that I was dealing with in the present.


Rose Valley to Gridley
(When you know you're going to finish)

Summary:
Earlier in the race Chris and I had discussed taking a break, or even a nap, the second time we would reach Rose Valley. It seemed like a good idea at the time as even a few winks of shut-eye might help get through that second night. However, I reasoned that taking a break at the 100K mark seemed too tempting a spot to call it quits and decided to push on to Gridley where, at closer to 3/4 of the way done, I was more assured to finish the race. I chatted at this aid station with Don Lundell of Zombierunner.com who was the only one to finish the test run of this course. He told me that the section down to Gridley was a nice runnable grade that I would enjoy. He also told me that he liked the fireroad that we just came down as it reminded him of a certain section of the Leadville 100. I thought about this comment as I headed up this thing and tried to imagine what it would be like up above 10,000ft. Ridiculous! Again, the profile belies this trails difficulty. While it "only" travels up 1500ft over the two miles, it is not a consistent grade and there are sections of this that seem to be pretty much straight up. I noticed the indomitable Linda McFadden (aka Judge McFadden) coming up the trail and welcomed the company. However, I am slow on the uphills and the heat was once again wrecking havoc with my stomach and she went on ahead. I kept her mostly in sight and caught back up along the ridge and then left her on the downhill before the ridge aid station.
The Gridley top aid station would be visited three times here as we neared the last part of the course. It served as sort of a marker to break up the last few sections of the course: down to Gridley bottom and back up, then down to Cozy Dell and back before the final stretch to the finish. The RD was busily manning this station and was certainly the king of keeping things as light as possible as people stumbled on in various states of degradation. I told him my advice for future runners of this event which was "if you push through a bad spell at C2M you may find a good bit on the other side, don't worry, it's only temporary." He laughed and just pointed to the sign behind his head which read, "Why put on 'just another 100 miler?'" I guess that said it all.
I hooked back up with Linda here and we headed down to Gridley together. After about a mile or so I decided to let this nice grade set my speed a wee bit higher. Don said it was runnable and he was mostly right. The grade was perfect, but a couple of miles into it and the rocks pretty much kept you from really getting going. Furthermore, right before the bottom, maybe a 1/2 mile or even less, rather than finish on the nice fireroad the wonderful course designers let you know that this was never to be an easy course. The final section to the aid station was hopping down off big rocks over steep trail
Highlight
Once finishing the crazy steep uphill from Rose Valley, this was the part of the course where I knew I would finish the race. That sort of confidence that says, "nothing is going to stop me now even if I have to crawl it in." The heat of the day was dissipating. The last couple of down/ups were long, but not nearly as steep as anything we had done so far. Once I reached Gridley bottom there was only 25 miles left and I would have at more than 10 hours to finish that just to make the minimum finish time of 4am. The only thing that I would have to contend with was sleepiness and general fatigue as the second night set on us. I had already decided to take a significant rest at the aid station and perhaps even a nap. This thing really seemed to be in the bag.



Gridley to Cozy Dell
(Rest leads to fun)

Summary
While they had a cot setup at the aid station, I didn't think I could sleep. I settled into a chair. It was close to 5:30pm and I decided that if the last 25 miles took me 10 hours then I shouldn't leave until around 6pm in order to finish at the designated 4am time. I'd never spent a half hour at an aid station, but I was gonna do it now. I took care of my feet a little, though not as much as I should have. I noticed a few blisters developing (probably from running down that Rose Valley road), but decided they weren't going to stop me so I let them be. Besides, I deserved a few body trophies from this race. I ate fruit, drank an Ensure nice and slowly and let everything digest. Finally, after feeling very rested and letting all my food digest, I downed a Red Bull and headed out along with Linda who had come in a little bit after me. As I headed out Chris and Rod came into the aid station both looking good and also planning to spend a little time there.
On the way out my legs felt really good. After getting past the initial tough bit of trail and onto the fireroad, I had no problem keeping with Linda on the uphill and we even "ran" a bit of it. However, even at our relatively quick pace, the six miles to the top seemed to take forever. The sun was setting and we could start to see the lights on the ridge, but they didn't seem to be getting any closer. Finally we arrived and were greeted by none other than the Easter Bunny himself now manning the aid station.

(photo by Jakob)

It was, of course, Chris (the RD) keeping things in the right mood. It wasn't quite Easter yet and I hoped to make it to the next aid station before it arrived as I knew the last section to the finish was going to be very tough. When I complained that the downhill to Gridley wasn't nearly as runnable as promised, I was told that the trail down to Cozy Dell would make up for it. There was another mile or so of climbing on the fireroad followed by more than six miles of pure downhill. It would be the longest ridge-to-bottom section since the initial one to Sisar. I felt pretty good. I have a rule that after the 3/4 point of a 100 miler, I take whatever my body will give me. If it lets me run, I will run. I didn't care too much about the uphill section and took it easy letting many people pass. I knew I was going to let it go on the downhill as my legs felt strong and I'd been looking forward to testing whether my quads would still hold out with all the downhill miles.
As the fireroad headed down I pushed a little to pass some people so I wouldn't have to do it on the upcoming single-track. It paid off because once I hit that trail, it was the most perfect downhill section of the entire race. Beautiful trail, winding gradually down the canyon. I simply leaned into it and let it fly. After a couple of miles of this perfection it transitioned to firetrail that was somewhat steeper. I let it go some more. There were only a couple of people heading up and even fewer heading down. Since I was still on pace to finish before 4am, these were all the folks who overestimated their finish times, some by hours. As I passed by a couple of guys they commented that they thought maybe Karl Meltzer was coming behind them running down the hill. I turned and said, "no, I think this is his uphill pace."
There was a little more uphill after the fireroad transitioned to trail and then road again. Just as I was busy being proud of myself for my ability to run downhill at mile 85 of a very hard course, I hit a cruddy section of the road that slowed me a bit. I heard someone coming behind me and thinking it was perhaps the guys I had just passed earlier I turned to warn them of the ruts I could see up ahead. Well, before I got even a word out, the real Karl Meltzer appeared over my right shoulder and then disappeared down below me barely seeming to touch the ground as he literally flew over this dicey section of trail. There is pretty much no way anyone could mistake my wild, rumbling downhill gait for the graceful, floating (and unbelievable speed) that just blurred past me in the middle of this night.
After that section, the trail flattened a little bit before heading back into single-track that was extremely technical and rocky. I had been warned about this section by Linda who did some reconnaissance the day before coming up from the highway where the aid station was. Running fresh and in daylight I might have challenged myself to push and have fun on this section. However, not only did it seem dangerous in general, but my focus was really starting to go. I found myself carefully picking my way over rocks and ruts as my mind and eyes darted from one direction to the next unable to maintain anything close to the laser-focus necessary to navigate technical trail at speed. Then, as quickly as he had passed me heading down, Karl appeared in front of me on his way back up. I stopped and moved off trail, but being the uphill runner he also stepped aside to let me pass. It took me about a 1/2 second of thinking "what the hell are you thinking?" before I managed to utter "no...go." He said "thanks" as he bounded back up the trail that I wasn't even able to run down at this point. I was pretty sure he and I are not even the same species. I didn't have to contemplate this depressing fact too long as I could hear the highway close ahead. The trail finished through a dry creek bed and out to the road where a short trip to the right arrived to the aid station. I asked the volunteers here if they had seen the "gazelle wearing a headlamp that had just went flying up the trail." It brought a good laugh especially from one woman whom I later learned was Karl's wife.
Highlight
Obviously being able to run this downhill section late in the race was a major highlight. However, more so was just the pure pleasure of the initial switchbacks off the ridge. It was unadulterated running joy heightened by the fact that I had already completed so many hard miles. In fact, I wasn't even in a race in my mind. I was just running on a beautiful piece of trail enjoying the cool night air and wonderful mountain surroundings. That feeling of "I can run forever like this" filling the mind, body and soul. I didn't even think of the fact that I would have to return up these hills or how long it would be or any of the other concerns that might occupy my mind at this point in the race. So often in a race, especially a long one, the various mind games that I play to distract myself from the pain of the moment or how long I have to go, keep me from simply appreciating the immediate experience. It is a rare treat to be able to enjoy the simple pleasure that brought me to trail running in the first place.

Cozy Dell to Finish
(Here's where things get interesting)

Summary
This section had concerned me from the moment I saw the profile. Facing 9 miles of almost complete uphill with nearly 90 miles already on the legs seemed a daunting prospect. In the moment, this was not my thought at all. I was leaving the aid station after taking in some extra fuel and hydration for what I expected to be a long trip, but I knew I was going to finish the race. I expected at least three hours to reach the ridge so I also loaded my pack with some food for the trail. It wasn't even midnight yet so I had enough time to take this last section as slow as I needed to. I just needed to keep moving. What could be so hard about that?
The initial couple of miles was fine. I remembered all the technical stuff and expected it to go slow. I eventually made it back to the fire road heading up the hill. One of the disadvantages of my running this section down at speed was that my recollection of the distance was completely distorted. This road could not have been this long on the way down. It just kept going and going and I don't remember it being nearly this steep. The only saving grace was the number of people I met heading down. I saw Chris and Rod, Craig and Leslie and Fred. They all looked to being doing well. The only person missing was Harry. After what seemed an eternity the single-track arrived. I was once again faced with a major disconnect between my recollection and the actual distance of this trail. This is where the final difficulties surfaced. The trail was not steep, but my pace was slowing. The general fatigue of being in the middle of my second night without sleep were weighing heavy. Furthermore, my feeling labored and any extra effort brought about a coughing fit. At one point I remember sitting down on a rock to get something out of my pack. As I was leaning over my pack, my head started to droop, my eyes closed and I caught myself just as I was about to doze off. The only thing that I could do here was focus on the fundamentals. I ate some, I kept drinking, I talked to myself in my head repeating my mantra of "any movement is better than no movement."
I don't actually remember reaching the ridge and I don't remember when they came up behind me, but at some point on the ridge fire road a few 100K runners caught up. I chatted a little as we headed up and over the climb to Gridley Top. They left me as my climbing pace was a total slog. However, at the peak, I found my legs again and decided I would give one last big run down that mile to the aid station. Again, it felt so good, though I knew it probably meant I would not have anything left for the final descent. It didn't matter as once I reached there would be less than 4 miles remaining after this and even if I walked the entire final stretch at a very slow pace I would still probably arrive "too early". At the aid station, I knew what I needed at this point. Just as at Javelina, soup, mostly broth was the final order. I didn't dally too long as I wanted to start on the mile and a half of uphill that I knew would seem much longer. However, I had fought through the biggest mental struggle so the rest was simply auto-pilot to the finish. The last ridge section did seem long, but mainly because I just wanted to be on the final trail heading down.
When I finally reached the trail it seemed so foreign having headed up it more than 30 hours past. It was more technical and less runnable than I recalled and, as usual, it was longer. I think I had mentally "finished" the race upon arriving at this trail so it seemed like it was taking its time getting down to the valley. The temperature was dropping as I headed down, but I didn't want to stop so I remained in short sleeves and no gloves. The whole way down all I remember thinking about was my sleeping bag waiting in the tent. Finally on flat ground, I could hear the voices and cheers coming from The Ranch. However, I am pretty sure that we didn't wind around so much down here on the way out. Then I saw a creek to my left, then the pond and then the road. Shuffling along I could see the lights and people milling about. Someone in the distance said something about "runner" and I realized they were talking about me. With no energy to pick up the pace I just shuffled it on in crossing the finish line at a hair over 33 1/2 hours from the time that I left two days prior.
Completely exhausted in every possible way, I just stumbled around for a bit. I eventually realized I needed to get warm so I went to the tent. I grabbed my clothes as I wanted to clean up before crawling into my sleeping bag. The shower was in use so I just cleaned in the sink. As I went to put my clothes on, I realized that they all felt wet. My heart sank. My sleep pants felt OK and the fleece we got from the race seemed fine so that's all I put on. I then took my sleeping bag and sat by the fire. Despite my fatigue, I knew that sleep would not be immediate. A slice of pizza and a few other folks finishing and I headed into the tent and was immediately out.
Highlight
There always seems to be a defining moment near the end of these races where there is one last battle to be had before I am allowed to complete my task. On that last climb to the ridge I literally had to will myself to keep moving. I never have visual hallucinations, but what goes on inside my mind generally suffices. I remember asking my wife if I could use her voice to tell myself to "dig deep." I remember getting upset with myself for negative thoughts and scolding myself saying things like, "come on, are you an ultra runner or not? do you think those negative thoughts will give you an excuse? you know what to do." However, overall, the strangest thing was the realization that I truly was thinking of myself as in the third-person. Not just in my mental speech, but in reality. At some point I realized that I believed that I was feeding and giving fluids to someone outside of me. I was asking myself questions such as, "is he drinking enough? is it time to give a salt pill? maybe he's taking too much water." It was completely sub-conscious and when I eventually realized that I was doing it all I could think was "huh, what was that about?" In the end, whatever impulse it was that drove me to separate my mind and body into two separate people working together, it helped me get up that final hill and through the second night.

End
As expected my attempt to keep this race report to anything resembling a reasonable length has completely failed. So, I might was well finish the tale of the rest of the day. I must have slept deeply, but not for very long. I don't remember Chris coming into the tent at all and he said I was snoring like crazy. However, about a half hour later I darted awake. The sun was coming up and I thought I had slept more than I had so I stumbled out of the tent. Drop bags had arrived so I layered on all of the warm clothing that I had put in them and sat by the fire again. I remember being surprised that people were still coming in. No matter, I was awake so I enjoyed the morning. I got to see old and new friends finish this beast and I waited around for breakfast. We had a scare as nobody knew where Harry was, but he had dropped at mile 80 after falling asleep on the trail and was still resting peacefully in the back of his car. Eventually everyone collected near the finish for a really great breakfast and awards ceremony. These guys really do put on a full-featured event. I didn't participate in the pre-event activities, but it was nice to have lunch before and then breakfast after the race seeing everyone transition from their before and after selves. I usually swear off repeating a race immediately after finishing, but this race I felt more certain than any on not attempting a repeat performance. Of course, as Harry has to return I will admit that the thought somehow slipped back into my mind on the drive home. Hmm...knowing about the various climbs, could I plan them better? Would it be less daunting with full knowlege of how tough it would be ahead of time? All in all, it was a really great event and I definitely felt, as Chris put it, that I "had nothing to prove after that one!"