Ohlone remains "pound for pound" (or mile by mile, in this case) the toughest race I have ever done. I know of courses on Mt. Diablo or the new Canyons 50K that have more vert. But since Ohlone is a point-to-point course, I am going to go ahead and call it the gnarliest 50K stretch of trail around. When I finished my first, I knew I had just done something extremely difficult. I have said repeatedly since that it was the toughest race that I have ever done.
Well, it took a full year, but I found a way to make Ohlone look a lot easier. For one, I did not do Silver State this year, so doing Ohlone somewhat fresh seemed easy. My Achilles not giving me any trouble makes it easier. I ran Miwok 100K two weeks ago, which makes anything 50K seem easier. Oh, and it was cool. Sometimes cold. This had to be one of the easiest Ohlones on record, and you better believe that was still a bitch. The grind out of Sunol is notorious, especially after having already gone up and over Mission Peak. Ohlone is relentless, and its rewards are steep, rocky downhills. Good stuff. I highly recommend it.
So with all of this easier Ohlone stuff, I could not wait. I had the usual mix of anxiety and excitement, but with much heavier doses of excitement. Compared to Miwok (and sort of because of Miwok), which I was basically scared to run, I had all the confidence I needed to go out there and really push it at Ohlone. No running scared or tedious conservation, just haul ass to the car in Livermore. If I come out too hard, even way too hard, I will be hours and hours ahead of the cutoffs and can just grind it on in a la my entire Ohlone 2013. Just do not get injured. All other worst case scenarios were not that bad at all. Blowing up and practicing troubleshooting, crisis management, and adaptation had some definite appeal. I honestly felt that, as long as I did not hurt myself, literally nothing bad could happen. You can totally imagine how, after being scared of Miwok, this was going to be friggin fun.
Elisa's feet hit the floor before 0430 for I am not sure how many weekends in a row. She took me and Jill to Lake Del Valle to drop my car. I was going straight to her symphony show in Walnut Creek after the race. Jill was going to carpool back to San Jose with the team. It meant leaving my place at 5 to be at Del Valle shortly after they opened the gates at 6 to beat the buses back to the potty lines at Mission Peak. Elisa could have slept in, and Jill and I could have taken the bus to the Start from Livermore. I offered. She was not having it. She could not be at the Finish, because of her concert, so she wanted to be at the Start. And she was available and knows I get peeanoia on buses (anxiety around not being able to get off and pee). And she totally rocks. So she got up early to chauffeur me and Jill.
We get back to Mission Peak, and Elisa drops us off. There is only parking there for a handful of cars. Even if she had found a spot, and we did not, it was best to keep the cars cycling through the main lot. She did not want us waiting in the cold, so she drove off reluctantly. The weather was mild, so Jill and I were fine. We knew and were approached by more people at the Start than we could talk to at once, and it was pretty awesome -- the usual chatter of recognition within the tribe that was absent in the darkness of Miwok. Ann Trason was overseeing runner check-in, and we had a brief exchange about her aching back and not being able to pace Kristin. I caught up with Isak, who I met on the Ohlone course last year and have not seen since. Gabriel was there for his first ultra, and I chatted with him and his mom who had come to see him off. Gabe might have been a little embarrassed that his mom was there. Gabe, you are never too old for it to be completely and undeniably 100% awesome that she came to see you off on your big race. I was stoked to see her and your girlfriend at the Finish too. Chatted with the Quicksilver team and a bunch of Mission Peak locals like Paul and Sophia. It was foggy and cool, but I was not too cold in my sleeveless tank (which was being tried out for Western States -- I had not yet gone sleeveless with a pack). Forecast was for highs in the low-70s, which is much better than you could expect for Ohlone. Let's get this party started, and we did, promptly at 0800.
The plan was to push it up and over Mission Peak to Sunol, survive the dig out of Sunol, and then run like hell to the car. The goal for the day was to make sure I was always pushing. Always trying. Such a fun race plan! My legs were not feeling at all fresh from pushing my weekly runs a little too hard, so I knew pretty early I was not going to be as fast as I had hoped. But that did not change the plan, push push push -- maybe slower but just as hard. I made good time to the top but could really tell that I did not have my best legs on the downhills. I adjusted and focused on being smooth and steady. I was moving pretty well along the flatter, single track sections down into Sunol. Too bad they do not last long, since that was definitely my sweet spot for the day.
As always during a race, I was practicing my Western States gear. So in a 50K, I was way overpacked. It allowed me to only slow long enough to snatch two PB&J quarters as I passed through the first aid station. In Sunol, filled my handheld with electrolytes and grabbed food to go. I was much faster through the aid stations at Ohlone this year, except for when I refilled my pack at the second to last one. I was close enough to the Finish that I did not need to stop and refill my bladder, but I had never filled my pack on the fly. I had at Miwok during a "full stop" at Muir, but I was going to try to do this much more quickly. It fell apart when I got my sunglasses tangled in the cross straps. Other than that, aid stations felt very fast. Fill the bottle. Food to go.
From Sunol, you climb seemingly forever, from 400' to 3,800' over the course of ten miles to Rose Peak. It is relentless. It is so remote that the aid stations seem totally out of place, cramped, slanted, and stuck to the side of the mountain. It also provides some of the most awesome and breathtaking views back toward the Start and this fantastic "Wow I did that" feeling even just along the way. Looking ahead, you see miles and miles of hiking runners, and you cannot see an end to it. Doing the race a second time was great. I knew that there was a top. And I also knew that, once you got there, it is nowhere near all downhill from there.
I ran when I could, which did not seem like much. But I was remembering to push, like the short flat sections within the otherwise impossibly steep climbs. There was honestly not much remarkable about the race, except for the pushing and sightseeing. The ponds I remember so prominently from last year were a little more dry, but the hills were a little more green and the wildflowers still in bloom. The pond all the cool lily pads was not as bright. I love the ponds, because I love asking the other runners, "Is that Lake Del Valle?" and then acting really disappointed to find it is not. This is one of my favorite instances of cracking myself up. Is that Lake Del Valle? Is it over? Did we win? Oh. Bummer.
I liked feeling familiar with the course. I liked getting to Rose Peak and knowing it was NOT all downhill from the top. I remembered two more significant but very manageable feeling climbs, and that helped make them feel shorter than last year. The hills were more colorful this year. Sweet. I did not remember the trails being anywhere near as rocky as they were, which made me be even more careful on the downhills. Still seemingly always pulling away on the uphills, even when hiking. Oh, and have I mentioned enough that it was a very pretty, cool day? It was like Ohlone Lite. Delicious.
All day, my time and pace seemed reasonable. Target time was right on target. All but the most aggressive stretch goals seemed in reach most of the day. I filled my pack at the second to last aid station just for practice, guessing correctly that it would not thwart my sub-7. The more I think about it, the more great it is. I had a great day.
I ran into Cesare's buddy and pacer from Miwok, Matt, on the final descent. We chatted a little. I told him I had to go push for my sub-7. He started pushing too, right past me. Cesare was way ahead of us. The Finish was your typical awesome ultra BBQ with runners swapping stories and asking how others were feeling about their day. Jill and Gabe came in about 10+ minutes ahead of me. No beating Jill these days unless it is hot or she has a bad day. I was happy to be so close behind her. I had a great time hanging out and catching up after the race, until I had to head to Walnut Creek for Elisa's concert.
My feet hurt from the rocks but not much. I still have some pain in the outside of both feet, but it has been manageable. I wondered if I needed wider shoes, since some of the pain is actually on the top of my foot now. But then I recall that the first instance of this was in roomy shoes. Also, I need more practice with rapid pack/bladder refills. The AS volunteer said she could refill without me removing my pack. I will try that. Putting it back on would not have been so bad, however, had I not gotten my sunglasses (hanging in the straps unused all day) tangled. Lesson learned. Even though I was pushing, I could have run a few more of the climbs. But with WSER training camp this weekend and its 70 or so miles, I will be stoked to have whatever I have left.
40 days.
Monday, May 19, 2014
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Miwok 100K: Walks, Winds, and Wildflowers
Last year, when I first heard about Miwok, I went to UltraSignup to try and register right away -- only to find out that the lottery had already been held. I had gotten into 2013 Way Too Cool off of the waiting list, and I think 2013 Miwok may have been my first time having to miss out. I ended up volunteering with Coastside Running Club at our aid station at Bridge View, which was ultimately my way in for 2014. (Free! Thanks CRC and Tia!)
After a decent but hardly spectacular AR50 and getting beat up on a couple of Miwok course tour/training runs, not to mention it being my first time on a 100K course, Miwok had me spooked. I was having small doses of serious anxiety about the race for a couple of weeks leading up to this past weekend. While there is always a little healthy fear mixed in with my race excitement, Miwok had way more of the former. I was trying to push that balance toward excitement as the race got closer and closer, but it was not coming easy. I was seriously intimidated.
Miwok has a 5AM Start, and Stinson Beach is an hour away from Elisa's place in Twin Peaks. With parking open at 0345 and a 0415 check-in, the alarm was set for 2. Thank goodness Elisa runs her own ultras, so the early wakeup did not surprise or upset her. She is an amazing crew. Quick shout out to ultra partners (husbands, wives, partners): you were everywhere this weekend. It was a refreshing reminder of the sacrifices you make and remarkable demonstration of just how awesome you are. Thanks. Elisa and I got to Stinson, got great parking, picked up my bib, and I was able to go to the bathroom (thank goodness) all before the Start. Check-in was smooth.. It was dark and early, and I think this is why it seemed much so quieter than the usual buzz of a race Start. Especially a race as big as Miwok, but the darkness quieted a lot of those moments of recognition and catching up within the tribe of runners.
We all mobbed up outside the community center. The race started up the narrow and steep (and technical) Matt Davis Trail. The turn North onto Coastal was not going to make things much better, since it was even more narrow, less technical, but severely sloped. I was completely at peace just starting at the back of the pack and settling into the line. Running up Matt Davis could make or break the race for some people, and it was not going to break mine. I was scared enough, so a reasonable excuse to go slow for the first several miles and turn the race into a more reasonable distance with one less gnarly climb was totally cool by me.
I missed the Start, as in I did not hear it happen. I just all of a sudden noticed that the mob was moving. This is not unusual, when you are at the back of the pack. I was there with Elisa and really wanting to wimp out. It seems even dumber now, but I was not into it then. When I realized the mob was moving, I actually told Elisa, "I don't wanna go." But I kissed her and moped off for the slow climb up (elevation) and up (North) to Bolinas. The long, slow climb up Matt Davis was pretty cool. Everybody was chatting. It was dark as could be. I noticed somebody looking back down the hill and snapping a picture. I paused and looked for myself, up, then back and down. Wow. A zig zag of coal miner headlamps lighting up only the trail as far down as one could see. Hundreds of them. And all the distant chatter in the jungle, propped up by the more consistent rhythm of the invisible creek. It was very special. It was the very first of many times that day that I reminded myself that this really was what I wanted to be doing right then.
Right about the time we got to Coastal, I ended up right behind Janeth, who was coming off of a little break so it was nice to have a chance to chat and catch up. She offered some tips for Western States, which were a welcome treat and distraction. Janeth has earner a lot of experience in a short period of time. If she is talking, go ahead and just listen. Sun was rising. Wildflowers were about to start waking up. The Ocean was black. It was a nice morning.
My atitude problem likely contributed to an energy problem. Even when the trail flattened out and opened up after the Bolinas Ridge aid station, there was no impulse to let the legs go a little. And it is not that the legs were reluctant. My body felt fresh. It was just that my motor was ho-hum and mopey like my attitude. I was perfectly content wandering around out there, only I really badly wanted to get back to more familiar ground and Elisa in the Marin Headlands. I saw the lead runners, which included a lot of Quicksilvers, and was pretty embarrassed by my position so far to the back. I got to the bottom of Randall and saw Quicksilver teammate Marc K.. He seemed to know something was up based on how long it took me to get there. I told him I just was not into it, but that nothing was actually wrong (although it was probably much more mumbled and cryptic than that). After a danish and refill on electrolytes in my handheld, I headed back up to Bolinas Ridge.
On the way up, I saw the very back of the pack, including another Quicksilver teammate, Kat. Kat is 60+. I paced her to an over-the-cutoff Finish at the Headlands Hundred. And everybody seems to know that Kat has the hugest, cutest crush on me. Still, there has never ever been an exchange like this. But this. This happened:
Me: "Hey, Kat, looking good! Keep it up!
Kat: "Loren? Loren! You're looking hot! Watch out everybody! Here comes Loren and he is looking hot!"
Where did that outburst come from? Hilarious. I was dying. The guy over my left shoulder started chuckling. Sometime around then I saw Eldrith, 72, and told her (as I always do) what a huge fan I am. I was picking up a little. By the time I got back up to the ridge, I was pushing a little harder.
Through the Redwoods and back to wildflowers. It was clearing up, and a spectacular day was unfolding. People everywhere were taking pictures. There was a general sense that this was really special. We live in an amazing place. I got to some familiar trail near Pan Toll and knew I was getting close to Cardiac, then it was downhill to Muir Beach and Elisa. The race was getting much, much easier. At Cardiac, Alex Varner (rare exception to the no last name rule) refilled my handheld. Alex is a Nike Trail Elite, Marin local, and was rocking an SFRC hat, while serving the Miwok runners. I love this game. So much interaction with the top stars, especially in Marin County (last time it was pumpkin pie from Ann Trason at the Quad).
When I got out onto Highway 1 at the bottom of Cardiac, teammate Marc L. was there waiting for me. Marc is one of our top runners and just a super nice guy. He ran with me maybe a mile and gave me all the updates on the front and the other Quicksilver runners -- in this case, one and the same, since Quicksilver runners were in 1st place for both men and women. Pumping me up. Telling me this race was for the strong, not the fast. And that I was strong. Not to worry. Have fun. Let the race come to me. We tapped out a couple of 9ish minute miles. It was one of many special moments. Thanks, Marc, you are a great teammate.
Elisa was amazing at Muir Beach. She had everything all organized for me. After reading JJ's blog about the 4MPH challenge, I actually sat down in her chair. I dropped my jacket, glove, headlamp, and any trash. Re-applied sunscreen and such. Refilled my bladder and handheld. I had planned on changing into a dry shirt, my first HMBIM shirt, but everything was working and comfy. (I was a little bummed to be completely without a CRC logo for passing through Bridge View.) I did not have to change shoes, since my feet were not giving me problems (which they sometimes do around and over 50K). Sunglasses. Visor. A Peasant Pie (sausage, egg, and cheese) to go. After taking a beating on Middle Green Gulch on my Easter training run, I had decided to hike up out of Muir Beach. Elisa told me it was time to push it. One of my targets was two 7-hour 50Ks for a 14-hour Finish. I nailed 30 miles and 7 hours. With the conga line start, I felt right on target. After hearing reports all morning that I was not at my best, Elisa feared a bit of a dropoff. If I slowed an hour or so for during the second half, I would be cutting it pretty close. Still, I stuck to the plan and hiked out of Muir Beach, snacking on my Peasant Pie while geeking out through the Zen Garden.
I passed a few to several runners on the hike up Middle Green Gulch. Looking back at UltraLive race stats, I moved up 120 positions from the first time through Cardiac to the Finish. I got up to and ran down Miwok tripping out on how not hot it was. I was going one aid station and one friendly face at a time, steaming toward Tennessee Valley, my drop bag with my coffee coconut water, and Minel, Gabe, and Jill. Then, a purposeful charge up Marincello, one of my favorite climbs in the Headlands, over to SCA, one of my favorite trails in the Headlands, to the Bridge View aid station.
As the Coastside Running Club's aid station, Bridge View was a key stop of today's race -- as in, one I was really looking forward to. I knew I had friendly faces there, just like Elisa and Cecilia at Muir Beach and Jill, Minel, and Gabe at Tennessee Valley. My coaches/buddies Franz (who actually was not there, since he had to go fetch water) and Jen, Kristin, Omar, Mor, Ron (who I saw directing traffic along the way), and other CRC would all be there. I showed up, late, but there was a huge welcome for me. Omar, Kristin, and Jen all got gnarly all day runner hugs. The AS crew was attending to another runner who was struggling a little. K's training buddy for San Diego 100 was up for a Miwok training run and having a rough day. The CRC crew was impressively and efficiently taking care of T-Bone. I felt fit as a fiddle. I told them, "I love yous but I gotta go!" Down Coastal I went for one of the rare stretches of easy running on the whole course.
Once you get to the bottom near Rodeo Beach, it flattens out for a while before you head back up Rodeo Valley trail. I am not sure I had ever gone up this way. I was content sticking to my plan of hiking all of the major climbs, and up and over Rodeo Valley to Miwok definitely counted. But the first mile or two are definitely runnable and almost flat. I had passed Jessee at the Bridge View aid station, but he caught up to me while I was wandering around out there on an obviously runnable section of the course. He was concerned. Jesse and his wife Jenni are another one of the super-couples of ultra. Jenni was all over the course in a super hero costume, and they are always so enthusiastic and supportive. This was just typical Jesse. He stopped and walked with me for several minutes. I had told him that I was just fine. My body was doing great. I was only taking a break and totally content doing so. He was not convinced, so I am sure he walked with me for a while to try to do a bet of a systems check on me -- all while keeping me company and catching up on training for States. Eventually he ran off, wishing to make up some time before it got steep. Thanks, Jesse.
I am not sure what I was doing wandering around right then, but I was perfectly content taking a break on a runnable section of the course. There are so few out there. You really need them for respectable times. There are relatively long, flat sections before two of the major Miwok climbs, Middle Green Gulch and Rodeo Valley that I roamed and snacked for a good portion. I ran the flat sections before the climb up Coastal out of Tennessee Valley and the flat part out of Muir Beach toward Cardiac. But for some reason, I was totally cool just cruising along stuffing my face. I am not even sure that this is a bad strategy. It might be an excellent strategy, but it is definitely room for improvement. And it causes me to pause and wonder why I get lazy and start wandering around...in the middle of a race! It also make me feel all kinds of lucky to be able to do that and still be way ahead of the cutoffs.
At one point right around this time, I started to feel really nauseous. I had been thinking that the race was in the bag for hours. It was only a matter of patience and execution -- just putting in the hours to get back to Stinson. Then, all of a sudden, my stomach got upset. My immediate thought was, "How sick can I get and still make it ~15 miles back to Stinson." The outcome was nowhere near certain, and for just an instant my Finish was suddenly in doubt. And then I felt fine. Almost immediately. Total false alarm, but total wakeup call. Things can go bad just like that. Sudden critical system failure is real.
Coming back into Tennessee Valley was a big deal, because I picked up my pacer, Gabriel. I had decided that I did not need a pacer for this race, but I learned a trick from Franz. Pacing is an opportunity to run a beautiful, marked, supported course. Even if you do not need a pacer, these spots are great to give out to people for them to check it out. Gabriel is running his first ultra in a couple of weeks at Ohlone. I figured pacing me at Miwok would be a great glimpse of aid stations and trail ultra racing, and help him develop his own strategies. He was into it. And other than waiting until the day before the race (when I am scrambling around at work trying to get out of town) to message me with his final questions, he was great at it. Perfect. I told Jill and Minel that I was doing fine, but that I was over it. I was ready to be done and see Elisa. This always happens. That point when I am fine, but I just want to fast forward to the Finish where everybody wants to feed me and tell me how amazing I am. To me, this seems totally normal. But Minel got a little concerned when I said I was over it and wanted to be done. Sorry, Minel. I was totally fine. Just impatient.
I was specifically saving some running legs for Gabriel. I told him that I wanted his pacing assignment to look like a The North Face commercial, but warned him that it would be much more like a purposeful jog/hike with lots of mumbling. But one of my incentives to conserve all day was to save some running for Gabe. We ran out of Tennessee Valley to Coastal, marched up Coastal to another favorite of mine, Pirate's Cove. We made pretty good time through Pirate's Cove. I showed Gabriel a valuable lesson in ultra racing: When you see a camera, run! Glenn Tachiyama, one of my favorite ultra photographers (usually in the Pacific Northwest, but a Miwok regular), was at the top of Pirate's. He gave me a split second to compose myself before firing off action shots. Then it was down into Muir Beach to see Elisa for the second and last time before the Finish.
Gabe was a little blown away by Elisa as crew. Again, this was Gabe's first ultra experience, so aid stations and the ultra level of on-course support was new. She had Peasant Pies for both of us, checked if I needed anything, reminded me to take my jacket (It was getting cold!), and off we went. Gabriel remarked how efficient and helpful Elisa was. Like he was really tickled or impressed. I was like, dude, ultra partners are super special.
We were passing a lot of runners now. Jogging down the road out of Muir Beach to Cardiac and off into the woods to the base of Cardiac we saw (and passed) Harish from Cisco and his runner and our buddy Eric from some training runs. We passed a bunch of runners while marching up Cardiac, including my buddy Franco. We saw John G. a couple of times. Gabe said, "OK, Cardiac, I get it." making a joke about the name of this seemingly endless climb. I pointed out how we had gone from the beach to the Redwoods. We got to Cardiac, and Gabe said, "Oh neat. An aid station. No way!" Rad. It was working. Gabriel was having a cool experience. And it was about to get cooler.
I am not a confident downhill runner, but I have my moments. I am generally slow downhill, and do most of my passing on climbs. I am afraid of heights. But I have my moments. And it is totally mind over matter. I need some legs, sure. But if I am in the zone, I can get down off a hill pretty quickly. Well, I was dying to show Gabe some gnarly trail racing at its finest -- down the Dipsea into Stinson. And we did it. We were flying. Hammering down the hill, root hopping, rock stepping, "On your left!" "On your right!" "One more behind me!" "Watch your feet!" "Watch your head!" It is so much like a video game to me. Go as fast as you can. Hit all your landings. Gabriel got to play on Dipsea, and I got to enjoy my finish.
We could see the beach. Gabe felt that "we got here on our feet" feeling of seeing the Ocean. We charged over Insult Hill. We heard cowbells and cheers. I probably cried a little. Down onto Highway 1 and toward the fire station, I heard Kristin first. She was sitting on the curb, after having come down from Bridge View. I turned the corner for the chute and saw...everybody. This was my biggest Finish ever. People were ringing bells and cheering and snapping photos. I Finished. Tia put my medal on me. I put my hands on my knees and collected myself for a minute. My crew gave me those moments. Then I went to find Elisa. And Jill. And Minel. And Gabriel. And Dwight. And Kristin. And everybody. I did it. I enjoyed the heck out of it.
The race went great. The traffic at the Start did not bother me, and I use it as an excuse to conserve. I moped around in the morning, but that was mostly early start and bad attitude. And I had a near perfect afternoon. But, now having gone farther in one day than ever before, what did I learn for Western States?
* Maybe I should forget about silver buckles for this year. I have been publicly saying finish in 27 hours, but privately thinking bigger. Maybe I should table that.
* My feet were a little beat up, but I never had to change shoes. I am still not sure what is going on here, but need to keep an eye on it. I am not sure what causes it, since it seems to happen even in cushier shoes. Fresh shoes and socks seem to fix it temporarily, perhaps just by changing pressure points. Still, good news that it was tolerable throughout Miwok.
* I am conservative to the point of being lazy. This can be good. This can be bad.
* Things can go wrong quickly. I can and did eat everything. I only saw my usual favorite, potatoes, at Bridge View. I was improvising everywhere else, and it was mostly fine -- except for that one moment. I am not sure I have to worry about this. I have been very lucky. But that moment got me wondering if sudden critical system failure could happen to me.
* I look like a dork with my big handkerchief stuffed in that loop of my hydration pack, but it is too big for and gets too wet in my pocket. I am going to go back to stuffing it in the webbing of my pack.
* I do not need the pack, but it is good for carrying and stashing extra stuff.
After a decent but hardly spectacular AR50 and getting beat up on a couple of Miwok course tour/training runs, not to mention it being my first time on a 100K course, Miwok had me spooked. I was having small doses of serious anxiety about the race for a couple of weeks leading up to this past weekend. While there is always a little healthy fear mixed in with my race excitement, Miwok had way more of the former. I was trying to push that balance toward excitement as the race got closer and closer, but it was not coming easy. I was seriously intimidated.
Miwok has a 5AM Start, and Stinson Beach is an hour away from Elisa's place in Twin Peaks. With parking open at 0345 and a 0415 check-in, the alarm was set for 2. Thank goodness Elisa runs her own ultras, so the early wakeup did not surprise or upset her. She is an amazing crew. Quick shout out to ultra partners (husbands, wives, partners): you were everywhere this weekend. It was a refreshing reminder of the sacrifices you make and remarkable demonstration of just how awesome you are. Thanks. Elisa and I got to Stinson, got great parking, picked up my bib, and I was able to go to the bathroom (thank goodness) all before the Start. Check-in was smooth.. It was dark and early, and I think this is why it seemed much so quieter than the usual buzz of a race Start. Especially a race as big as Miwok, but the darkness quieted a lot of those moments of recognition and catching up within the tribe of runners.
We all mobbed up outside the community center. The race started up the narrow and steep (and technical) Matt Davis Trail. The turn North onto Coastal was not going to make things much better, since it was even more narrow, less technical, but severely sloped. I was completely at peace just starting at the back of the pack and settling into the line. Running up Matt Davis could make or break the race for some people, and it was not going to break mine. I was scared enough, so a reasonable excuse to go slow for the first several miles and turn the race into a more reasonable distance with one less gnarly climb was totally cool by me.
I missed the Start, as in I did not hear it happen. I just all of a sudden noticed that the mob was moving. This is not unusual, when you are at the back of the pack. I was there with Elisa and really wanting to wimp out. It seems even dumber now, but I was not into it then. When I realized the mob was moving, I actually told Elisa, "I don't wanna go." But I kissed her and moped off for the slow climb up (elevation) and up (North) to Bolinas. The long, slow climb up Matt Davis was pretty cool. Everybody was chatting. It was dark as could be. I noticed somebody looking back down the hill and snapping a picture. I paused and looked for myself, up, then back and down. Wow. A zig zag of coal miner headlamps lighting up only the trail as far down as one could see. Hundreds of them. And all the distant chatter in the jungle, propped up by the more consistent rhythm of the invisible creek. It was very special. It was the very first of many times that day that I reminded myself that this really was what I wanted to be doing right then.
Right about the time we got to Coastal, I ended up right behind Janeth, who was coming off of a little break so it was nice to have a chance to chat and catch up. She offered some tips for Western States, which were a welcome treat and distraction. Janeth has earner a lot of experience in a short period of time. If she is talking, go ahead and just listen. Sun was rising. Wildflowers were about to start waking up. The Ocean was black. It was a nice morning.
My atitude problem likely contributed to an energy problem. Even when the trail flattened out and opened up after the Bolinas Ridge aid station, there was no impulse to let the legs go a little. And it is not that the legs were reluctant. My body felt fresh. It was just that my motor was ho-hum and mopey like my attitude. I was perfectly content wandering around out there, only I really badly wanted to get back to more familiar ground and Elisa in the Marin Headlands. I saw the lead runners, which included a lot of Quicksilvers, and was pretty embarrassed by my position so far to the back. I got to the bottom of Randall and saw Quicksilver teammate Marc K.. He seemed to know something was up based on how long it took me to get there. I told him I just was not into it, but that nothing was actually wrong (although it was probably much more mumbled and cryptic than that). After a danish and refill on electrolytes in my handheld, I headed back up to Bolinas Ridge.
On the way up, I saw the very back of the pack, including another Quicksilver teammate, Kat. Kat is 60+. I paced her to an over-the-cutoff Finish at the Headlands Hundred. And everybody seems to know that Kat has the hugest, cutest crush on me. Still, there has never ever been an exchange like this. But this. This happened:
Me: "Hey, Kat, looking good! Keep it up!
Kat: "Loren? Loren! You're looking hot! Watch out everybody! Here comes Loren and he is looking hot!"
Where did that outburst come from? Hilarious. I was dying. The guy over my left shoulder started chuckling. Sometime around then I saw Eldrith, 72, and told her (as I always do) what a huge fan I am. I was picking up a little. By the time I got back up to the ridge, I was pushing a little harder.
Through the Redwoods and back to wildflowers. It was clearing up, and a spectacular day was unfolding. People everywhere were taking pictures. There was a general sense that this was really special. We live in an amazing place. I got to some familiar trail near Pan Toll and knew I was getting close to Cardiac, then it was downhill to Muir Beach and Elisa. The race was getting much, much easier. At Cardiac, Alex Varner (rare exception to the no last name rule) refilled my handheld. Alex is a Nike Trail Elite, Marin local, and was rocking an SFRC hat, while serving the Miwok runners. I love this game. So much interaction with the top stars, especially in Marin County (last time it was pumpkin pie from Ann Trason at the Quad).
When I got out onto Highway 1 at the bottom of Cardiac, teammate Marc L. was there waiting for me. Marc is one of our top runners and just a super nice guy. He ran with me maybe a mile and gave me all the updates on the front and the other Quicksilver runners -- in this case, one and the same, since Quicksilver runners were in 1st place for both men and women. Pumping me up. Telling me this race was for the strong, not the fast. And that I was strong. Not to worry. Have fun. Let the race come to me. We tapped out a couple of 9ish minute miles. It was one of many special moments. Thanks, Marc, you are a great teammate.
Elisa was amazing at Muir Beach. She had everything all organized for me. After reading JJ's blog about the 4MPH challenge, I actually sat down in her chair. I dropped my jacket, glove, headlamp, and any trash. Re-applied sunscreen and such. Refilled my bladder and handheld. I had planned on changing into a dry shirt, my first HMBIM shirt, but everything was working and comfy. (I was a little bummed to be completely without a CRC logo for passing through Bridge View.) I did not have to change shoes, since my feet were not giving me problems (which they sometimes do around and over 50K). Sunglasses. Visor. A Peasant Pie (sausage, egg, and cheese) to go. After taking a beating on Middle Green Gulch on my Easter training run, I had decided to hike up out of Muir Beach. Elisa told me it was time to push it. One of my targets was two 7-hour 50Ks for a 14-hour Finish. I nailed 30 miles and 7 hours. With the conga line start, I felt right on target. After hearing reports all morning that I was not at my best, Elisa feared a bit of a dropoff. If I slowed an hour or so for during the second half, I would be cutting it pretty close. Still, I stuck to the plan and hiked out of Muir Beach, snacking on my Peasant Pie while geeking out through the Zen Garden.
I passed a few to several runners on the hike up Middle Green Gulch. Looking back at UltraLive race stats, I moved up 120 positions from the first time through Cardiac to the Finish. I got up to and ran down Miwok tripping out on how not hot it was. I was going one aid station and one friendly face at a time, steaming toward Tennessee Valley, my drop bag with my coffee coconut water, and Minel, Gabe, and Jill. Then, a purposeful charge up Marincello, one of my favorite climbs in the Headlands, over to SCA, one of my favorite trails in the Headlands, to the Bridge View aid station.
As the Coastside Running Club's aid station, Bridge View was a key stop of today's race -- as in, one I was really looking forward to. I knew I had friendly faces there, just like Elisa and Cecilia at Muir Beach and Jill, Minel, and Gabe at Tennessee Valley. My coaches/buddies Franz (who actually was not there, since he had to go fetch water) and Jen, Kristin, Omar, Mor, Ron (who I saw directing traffic along the way), and other CRC would all be there. I showed up, late, but there was a huge welcome for me. Omar, Kristin, and Jen all got gnarly all day runner hugs. The AS crew was attending to another runner who was struggling a little. K's training buddy for San Diego 100 was up for a Miwok training run and having a rough day. The CRC crew was impressively and efficiently taking care of T-Bone. I felt fit as a fiddle. I told them, "I love yous but I gotta go!" Down Coastal I went for one of the rare stretches of easy running on the whole course.
Once you get to the bottom near Rodeo Beach, it flattens out for a while before you head back up Rodeo Valley trail. I am not sure I had ever gone up this way. I was content sticking to my plan of hiking all of the major climbs, and up and over Rodeo Valley to Miwok definitely counted. But the first mile or two are definitely runnable and almost flat. I had passed Jessee at the Bridge View aid station, but he caught up to me while I was wandering around out there on an obviously runnable section of the course. He was concerned. Jesse and his wife Jenni are another one of the super-couples of ultra. Jenni was all over the course in a super hero costume, and they are always so enthusiastic and supportive. This was just typical Jesse. He stopped and walked with me for several minutes. I had told him that I was just fine. My body was doing great. I was only taking a break and totally content doing so. He was not convinced, so I am sure he walked with me for a while to try to do a bet of a systems check on me -- all while keeping me company and catching up on training for States. Eventually he ran off, wishing to make up some time before it got steep. Thanks, Jesse.
I am not sure what I was doing wandering around right then, but I was perfectly content taking a break on a runnable section of the course. There are so few out there. You really need them for respectable times. There are relatively long, flat sections before two of the major Miwok climbs, Middle Green Gulch and Rodeo Valley that I roamed and snacked for a good portion. I ran the flat sections before the climb up Coastal out of Tennessee Valley and the flat part out of Muir Beach toward Cardiac. But for some reason, I was totally cool just cruising along stuffing my face. I am not even sure that this is a bad strategy. It might be an excellent strategy, but it is definitely room for improvement. And it causes me to pause and wonder why I get lazy and start wandering around...in the middle of a race! It also make me feel all kinds of lucky to be able to do that and still be way ahead of the cutoffs.
At one point right around this time, I started to feel really nauseous. I had been thinking that the race was in the bag for hours. It was only a matter of patience and execution -- just putting in the hours to get back to Stinson. Then, all of a sudden, my stomach got upset. My immediate thought was, "How sick can I get and still make it ~15 miles back to Stinson." The outcome was nowhere near certain, and for just an instant my Finish was suddenly in doubt. And then I felt fine. Almost immediately. Total false alarm, but total wakeup call. Things can go bad just like that. Sudden critical system failure is real.
Coming back into Tennessee Valley was a big deal, because I picked up my pacer, Gabriel. I had decided that I did not need a pacer for this race, but I learned a trick from Franz. Pacing is an opportunity to run a beautiful, marked, supported course. Even if you do not need a pacer, these spots are great to give out to people for them to check it out. Gabriel is running his first ultra in a couple of weeks at Ohlone. I figured pacing me at Miwok would be a great glimpse of aid stations and trail ultra racing, and help him develop his own strategies. He was into it. And other than waiting until the day before the race (when I am scrambling around at work trying to get out of town) to message me with his final questions, he was great at it. Perfect. I told Jill and Minel that I was doing fine, but that I was over it. I was ready to be done and see Elisa. This always happens. That point when I am fine, but I just want to fast forward to the Finish where everybody wants to feed me and tell me how amazing I am. To me, this seems totally normal. But Minel got a little concerned when I said I was over it and wanted to be done. Sorry, Minel. I was totally fine. Just impatient.
I was specifically saving some running legs for Gabriel. I told him that I wanted his pacing assignment to look like a The North Face commercial, but warned him that it would be much more like a purposeful jog/hike with lots of mumbling. But one of my incentives to conserve all day was to save some running for Gabe. We ran out of Tennessee Valley to Coastal, marched up Coastal to another favorite of mine, Pirate's Cove. We made pretty good time through Pirate's Cove. I showed Gabriel a valuable lesson in ultra racing: When you see a camera, run! Glenn Tachiyama, one of my favorite ultra photographers (usually in the Pacific Northwest, but a Miwok regular), was at the top of Pirate's. He gave me a split second to compose myself before firing off action shots. Then it was down into Muir Beach to see Elisa for the second and last time before the Finish.
Gabe was a little blown away by Elisa as crew. Again, this was Gabe's first ultra experience, so aid stations and the ultra level of on-course support was new. She had Peasant Pies for both of us, checked if I needed anything, reminded me to take my jacket (It was getting cold!), and off we went. Gabriel remarked how efficient and helpful Elisa was. Like he was really tickled or impressed. I was like, dude, ultra partners are super special.
We were passing a lot of runners now. Jogging down the road out of Muir Beach to Cardiac and off into the woods to the base of Cardiac we saw (and passed) Harish from Cisco and his runner and our buddy Eric from some training runs. We passed a bunch of runners while marching up Cardiac, including my buddy Franco. We saw John G. a couple of times. Gabe said, "OK, Cardiac, I get it." making a joke about the name of this seemingly endless climb. I pointed out how we had gone from the beach to the Redwoods. We got to Cardiac, and Gabe said, "Oh neat. An aid station. No way!" Rad. It was working. Gabriel was having a cool experience. And it was about to get cooler.
I am not a confident downhill runner, but I have my moments. I am generally slow downhill, and do most of my passing on climbs. I am afraid of heights. But I have my moments. And it is totally mind over matter. I need some legs, sure. But if I am in the zone, I can get down off a hill pretty quickly. Well, I was dying to show Gabe some gnarly trail racing at its finest -- down the Dipsea into Stinson. And we did it. We were flying. Hammering down the hill, root hopping, rock stepping, "On your left!" "On your right!" "One more behind me!" "Watch your feet!" "Watch your head!" It is so much like a video game to me. Go as fast as you can. Hit all your landings. Gabriel got to play on Dipsea, and I got to enjoy my finish.
We could see the beach. Gabe felt that "we got here on our feet" feeling of seeing the Ocean. We charged over Insult Hill. We heard cowbells and cheers. I probably cried a little. Down onto Highway 1 and toward the fire station, I heard Kristin first. She was sitting on the curb, after having come down from Bridge View. I turned the corner for the chute and saw...everybody. This was my biggest Finish ever. People were ringing bells and cheering and snapping photos. I Finished. Tia put my medal on me. I put my hands on my knees and collected myself for a minute. My crew gave me those moments. Then I went to find Elisa. And Jill. And Minel. And Gabriel. And Dwight. And Kristin. And everybody. I did it. I enjoyed the heck out of it.
The race went great. The traffic at the Start did not bother me, and I use it as an excuse to conserve. I moped around in the morning, but that was mostly early start and bad attitude. And I had a near perfect afternoon. But, now having gone farther in one day than ever before, what did I learn for Western States?
* Maybe I should forget about silver buckles for this year. I have been publicly saying finish in 27 hours, but privately thinking bigger. Maybe I should table that.
* My feet were a little beat up, but I never had to change shoes. I am still not sure what is going on here, but need to keep an eye on it. I am not sure what causes it, since it seems to happen even in cushier shoes. Fresh shoes and socks seem to fix it temporarily, perhaps just by changing pressure points. Still, good news that it was tolerable throughout Miwok.
* I am conservative to the point of being lazy. This can be good. This can be bad.
* Things can go wrong quickly. I can and did eat everything. I only saw my usual favorite, potatoes, at Bridge View. I was improvising everywhere else, and it was mostly fine -- except for that one moment. I am not sure I have to worry about this. I have been very lucky. But that moment got me wondering if sudden critical system failure could happen to me.
* I look like a dork with my big handkerchief stuffed in that loop of my hydration pack, but it is too big for and gets too wet in my pocket. I am going to go back to stuffing it in the webbing of my pack.
* I do not need the pack, but it is good for carrying and stashing extra stuff.
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