Death Valley Marathon... CANCELLED

I ran about a half on the course anyway - it was GORGEOUS.  Really amazing canyon.  A bunch of people from the race came out and ran too, so everyone was there just to run and have fun.  Everyone was really friendly and it was a great time.  I wanted to do more, but my work buddies were waiting at the mouth of the canyon.  It was a bummer to turn back... yet a relief too.  Because the winds really did start getting nasty.  I understood why they cancelled the race.  And that was only about halfway up to the highest point of the race.  It got to the point where I was running uphill and AGAINST the wind which probably came as much as 50 mph gusts with windchill temps probably getting to below zero.  It felt like I wasn't moving much at all... on the other hand, the wind was so strong that it felt kind of cool to really lean into it, like being in one of those wind tunnels.  And then the wind would change and I would almost tumble.  Or get thrown to a side.  

Hilloween

Wow, our ideas of fun have sure changed over the last year.  Instead of finding some crazy costume party, we headed out to Auburn for Hilloween.  The idea is to cover the maximum number of vertical feet in one day.  Whoever goes up the most, wins.

So we stayed at with Elke, our favorite ultra-runner, and went out early morning on Saturday.  Set up camp on the edge of a canyon with a few more crazy people, many of them in costumes... and there it goes.  Down we go to the bottom of the canyon, over the bridge, all the way up to the other side, then turn around and come all the way back to camp.  Rinse and repeat as many times as you want to maximize vertical gain.

Each trip there and back is about 6 miles and 3000 ft.  Sarah and I did two, and then had to go back with Elke. Some other folks did three.  Hilloween is a "virtual" event, so other people participated too with their own hills in other places.  So it's still unclear who won.

It was my first serious trail run since Wasatch and it went pretty well.

Quick Wasatch Recap

Well... I'm really happy to say that we somehow pulled this thing off, and with no small thanks to your guidance in those early days!  

I psyched myself up so much about how ridiculously hard it was going to be, that it didn't turn out as hard as I expected.  I never hit the wall or thought of dropping. It was certainly the toughest thing I've ever done on the whole, but there was never really like an intense moment of pain/misery or what have you.  I think this is probably because 1) Sarah had a really tough race (massive blisters, cramping, pulled hammy) so a lot of the time I wasn't running at my full, and 2) we came in with the mentality to finish instead of going fast or pushing for a particular time.  I think both of those things helped ensure that we didn't go out fast or took risks.

I think that really helped in training too.. when we gave up any ambition to get sub-30 (hah!) and just went for finish.  So much was riding on the race, that we didn't push hard in training (at least pace-wise) and just focused on staying injury-free and on getting our bodies ready to take 100 miles of punishment. This resulted in doing many really long runs (40+) at really slow pace!  We figured with a 36 hour time limit, if we can only keep moving, we should be able to finish, which is about what happened!

I did so great shifting my schedule to go to bed by 9 and wake up really early leading up to the race... and then I couldn't sleep well like the 2 nights before.  Ah prerace jitters!  So I think that affected my energy levels.  Though the first like 25 miles we made good time and then the adrenaline wore off and came a low... which went away after a 1/2 caffeine gu!  And then came my favorite section around mile 30 where we ran on top of a ridge with gorgeous views on each side, and that made me really happy. 

Getting into Big Mountain and seeing our crew, Sarah's family and a few friends was a HUGE BOOST!  I almost broke down crying.  They even made wedding shirts and were all wearing them!  We were SO good at not spending much time at aid stations and treating them as a buffet.  I was really proud of us.  I think we averaged 2-3 minutes and even skipped some... EXCEPT for crew stations where we averaged like 20 :).  We were all new at this and sometimes there were too many cooks in the kitchen.  Brighton was probably the craziest aid station I'll ever have.  It was so crazy getting in there feeling pretty shitty in the middle of the night, after being out there for a long-ass time, and a bunch of our friends and my co-workers are there all high energy and happy to see us.  It was kind of surreal.  I enjoyed double-fisting a Red Bull and a chicken soup :).

Another low point came sometime between Lambs & Big Mountain.  Sarah decided to stay behind a guy that I thought was going way too slow, and I started fretting about time, and that made me feel more tired, and there was a lightning storm in the distance that looked beautiful and ominous.  So I think there was definitely a little bit of running-partner tension going on there, but we both did a good job of mellowing out and encouraging the other person.  And having a pacer helped too.  

We started slowing down going towards Brighton.  Sarah had a nasty cramp before Mills, which turned into a pulled hamstring, and the long walk on the road to Millcreek really exacerbated her blisters.  So that was a long slug through the dark... I remember seeing that Scott's peak campfire from the distance.  So alluring and so far.  We did a good job having our pacers run ahead and refill us so we didn't spend much time at the aid stations, even the ones with campfires :).  Somehow we wound up getting to Brighton within our time frame of 5-7, just after 5.  

So at that point we knew we should be able to make it unless something bad happens.  After spending 25 minutes (!!!) at Brighton getting fixed, eating, and hanging out with various folks that came out, our crew ushered us out.  Elke, whom you've met, the only ultrarunner on our crew, got us at this point. While all of our pacers were awesome and helpful, it was particularly comforting to have all her experience during that last stretch.  Ironically we did not let our pacer set the pace.  Already feeling really beat and knowing that we didn't have to move particularly fast to finish, we were happy to slog along.  

Mile 90 was the lowest point for me.  After taking one of those Plunges or Dives, and then seeing the ribbon point to an uphill just as nasty and just as steep, oh how I was cursing the race organizers.  THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE ALL DOWNHILL NOW!!! WTF?!  It was getting hot and I was still wearing my tights from the night.  So I had to yell for Sarah and Elke to slow down.  All in all it took 10 hours for the last 25.  We could have been a bit faster if we wanted to... but at that point we just wanted to finish and get married :).

And after we hit Pot Bottom... we just became really happy.  At this point we knew were were going to finish even if we crawled.  We got lovey-dovey and I called a couple of people at the finish to give them an ETA.  I felt giddy... which was an interesting feeling when combined with fatigue from having run 93 miles.  Elke made one last valiant attempt to set the pace... we tried to follow, but it was too hard and painful... and what for?  Just to get an extra 15 minutes off our time?  Na... let's just finish and get married.  

And having everyone out there throwing rose petals at us as we walked down "the aisle", oh it was the most magical moment of my life.  The whole thing was a dream at this point.  It got captured pretty well here: http://connect2utah.com/news-story/?watch=1&nxd_id=163277.

Oh and my stomach had no problems at all, luckily.  I mean at the end, I didn't want to eat anything but soup, and just took my gel and perpetuem as medicine every 20 minutes.  But no troubles.  And the sleep thing worked out OK too.  I think being a high-strung person, skipping one night of sleep wasn't a huge deal.  Finishing the race, I was SO stiff... I needed those hand rails in the bathroom to sit down (which weren't there!!!  Don't older couples ever take the honeymoon suite??).  But the most amazing thing was that the next day... I was able to jump around, dance wildly at our wedding, and pretty much do whatever I wanted!  I felt like there was a price that I should pay soon for putting myself through that... but it never came.  I was certainly fatigued the first few days of our honeymoon in Bali, but nothing prohibitive.  Sarah had a much tougher recovery, with elephant legs, 4 toenails coming off, and the pulled hamstring... but on about day 6 of the honeymoon, we couldn't help it but uprooted ourselves from a paradise beach with corals and snorkeling and climbed the island's highest volcano (5000ft climb in under 2.5 miles), so I guess we recovered OK :).

Yeah, so I think I'm sold on this 100 mile thing.  I'm right about to pull the trigger to sign up for AC. I definitely want to do this one while I'm still in LA.  And I also want to put my name in the bucket for WS.  In the likely event that I/we won't get in, I think we'll shoot for Wasatch or TRT.  My goal now is to get fast.  I really want to do one of these races where I push hard and give it my all.  Go to the brink.  Run more and faster!  Feel the wind against my face.  I'd shoot for under 24 if I get into WS, and def. sub-30 for Wasatch.  And Sarah and I will do a race or two together, perhaps a 100 and a 50.  We really do enjoy running together.  

Back into it

Well... we did it!  The quest from running 400m to running 100miles in just about a year.  I'd like to write a longer recap of the race... but never got around to it.  But I think the pictures and videos that are being put together by Michael Shlain will suffice for now.

On the whole, Wasatch was the hardest thing I've ever done... but it wasn't as hard as I expected.  I think because running together, there were times Sarah had to wait for me, and I for her.  Which means neither of us were running at our hardest.

And I think I'm hooked!  I'd like to run two 100 mile races this year.  Definitely the AC100 (Angeles Crest) in LA, and one more (Western States? *fingers crossed* - only 10% chance to get in through the lottery).  But more importantly... my goal this year is to get faster.  I want to push hard and go to the brink.

If I run Western States, I'd like to do sub-24.  If I was to do the Wasatch again, sub-30, perhaps 28-29, would be the goal.  Also I want to get faster to feel even more free on my run.  To feel the wind in my face more often than not.  To have more unbound energy instead of trudging up the hills.  That would be fun!  Oh, and if I'm faster, I can have more of a life while getting my runs in.  Running 30 miles in, say, 6 hours, would be much better than 10.

So to get there, I decided to push hard on my workouts and do more sprints/intervals where I push hard.  Now that I got the base mileage under my belt and my legs can take the punishment, I can focus on going fast.

Today I ran a 45:10 10K, which is by far my best time, though I never tried that hard before.  My previous best time was maybe 49 or 50.  It was HARD.  My legs performed just fine but I couldn't get enough air. Just panting and panting while occasionally able to get a full breath in which felt SO good... for about 10 seconds.

I could have squeezed a bit more out of me, though it was a good workout on the whole.  That's the hard part about running distance is figuring out early on how much to push now vs. how much to leave for the final lap.

Solo run

Sarah was still not feeling well, so I set out for a fast sol run (and I had a time constraint to be back by 7, so I can have time to shower and pack for my bachelor party, and then make it to a 9 p.m. flight).

This was my first long solo run in a while.  One big difference between running with someone or a group vs. solo is the ability to really micromanage ones body.  One moment I'm feeling pretty good, so I pick up the pace.  Another moment  I get winded on an uphill so I walk for a few moments.  Then I'm feeling dehydrated, so I slow the pace way down and drink.

I went up Black Mountain, and then down into the canyon and to Skyline, where Sarah met me as my aid station and bandaged up a blister on the back of my heel while giving me a burrito and refilling my water.  Sweetest fiance ever!  I also met a cool Russian optics physicist on the way and talked to him about cell phone cameras.

Then it was back down into the canyon, and then back up to Black Mountain, and then back down to the parking lot where Sarah arrived just as I got back.

I was able to keep a brisk pace, moving at roughly 12 minute miles on average for 21.5 miles, despite about a 5000-5500ft elevation gain.  Not bad at all!

I felt great at the finish and still feeling good now.  So I suppose this is my peaking workout.  I got one more hard run coming up - going to do Mt. Wilson up and down on Wednesday, and will try to run as much as possible on the way up.  And after that is tapering.  Probably an easy 20 miler in the Marine Headlands 2 weeks pre-race, and then bring it to maybe 10 miles the last weekend pre-race.

So excited!

Rattlesnake Scare

On Saturday Sarah and I drove out to Mt. Diablo to practice technical downhills.  It was a scorchingly hot day which made me understand why the mountain is called Diablo even though, on the whole, it's not that diabolic.

Sarah was still battling a weeklong sickness, so we cut our run short and turned back.  I was leading the way on the downhill, happily hopping rocks, sliding on pebbles and joyously running.

Until I hear a terrible dissonant screech.  It sounded like the hiss of an extremely upset cat mixed with nails on chalkboard.  Instinct took over as I braked, stopped dead in my tracks and started backing up.  Only to see an already coiled rattler drop onto the trail from the mountainside on my right.  Everything happened so fast, I barely remember catching a glimpse of him, and next thing I remember I was already backed up a safe distance away.

Shit, that was scary.

I've seen rattlers before, but never one so angry.  In fact, I've never heard them rattle.  I expected it to sound more discrete, with each beat clearly discernible.  I guess now I know.

He continued to lay there on the trail, all coiled up.  I walked a little closer to take a look, and he got all uppity and started rattling.  So I backed up and left him alone.

After waiting for a few minutes and determining that he wasn't going to move, we trekked around him, higher up on the hillside.

What I like about seeing rattlesnakes is that they're a sign that the ecosystem is healthy, being on top of the food chain.

Sarah assured me that rattlesnakes rarely kill.  Apparently there has only been one rattlesnake death in the whole State of Utah's history.  But they can sure do a lot of damage:

Well, after all my miles on the trails, I was bound to run into a rattlesnake sooner or later.  And then I saw another one on my run today, but that one was peacefully chilling on the edge of a wide fire road.  So I respectfully passed by it on the other side of the fire road.

Not bad for a bad day

We set out to do a 40 mile run today on the Ohlone trail through the Mission Peak Wilderness near Fremont and all the way to Rose Peak in the east, then back.

The highlights of the run for me was the hundreds of ground squirrels running around and playing.  I chased after them screaming gibberish.  Also we saw like 15 vultures.  I suppose something big died.

Oh and there was a poor lady who sprained her ankle and got carried out by rescuers on a stretcher :(

The other interesting thing was using salt in a ziplock baggie to replenish my electrolytes.  I was almost out of Salt Sticks and there was no time to go get more.  I kept thinking of all the other products I could use instead.  The Nuun tabs that dissolve in water had lots of salt...  but Sarah likes them and we were down to two.  The Margarita Clif Shot Blocks had a decent dose.  But I don't like the gummy-bear like texture while running and they stick to your teeth for a while.  The Clif Electrolyte powder had more sugar than salt, and requires washing out the CamelBak bladder.  Then finally it hit me... what I really need is SALT!  So I filled up the ziplock, threw in a 1/4 teaspoon measure spoon for more precision.. and off we go.  It's not as convenient as the capsules, and doesn't replenish other stuff like magnesium, but it worked!

I digress.

The main reason I wanted to write was that I didn't have a particularly great day out on the trails.  While my body performed reasonably well with no significant aches or pains (other than a few complains from the shin), I was low energy most of the run and not in particularly great spirits a lot of the time as a result.  While there were some good points, a lot of the time I was trudging along. The heat was quite brutal for me today too and at one point I had to stop under an oak and regroup.

Yet when I got home... I realized that this is the best I've felt after a run of this magnitude (and we've now done 4).  Nothing hurts, minimal stiffness, no blisters and my feet look great. The realization that I've come such a long way - when on a bad day I can go out, run 40 miles (with 10,000 up and down), come home and feel pretty damn good... well that's something :)

Utah Running Awesomeness!

We covered about 25 miles of the Wasatch course in Utah.  It's BEAUTIFUL!!!  The trails are often rough, overgrown, unmaintained, and straight up (or down)... but definitely doable.  So I feel better about the race, having seen some of the trails myself.

We got some good altitude training, running at at least 7000 feet, and heat training too, with temps generally above 80, and probably close to triple digits in some places.

Incredible views.  Running along the ridges with snow-covered mountains and valley vistas on each side.  Had to circumnavigate a few snow-fields.

Physically feel great too.  After 50 miles of running (30 miles Friday, 20 miles Sunday), nothing hurts, not even sore.

New nutrition system working out well - using flasks of liquid fuel (i.e. big flask of gel instead of individual packets), which is way more convenient than dealing with squeezing out gus, trash, etc.  I can eat more, faster, easier.  Love it.

And I figured out how to run downhills FAST.  Like an AVALANCHE!  With no pain at all in the knees.  (Instead of landing on the front, I now roll through the heels). SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much fun.

Oh and we saw a Porcupine!  And a wild chicken.

WEEEEEEEE~~!

Helping out at Western States 100

We volunteered at mile 78, Rucky Chucky/Far End.  It was a good experience.  I enjoyed being part of something so big and seeing so many amazing runners.  So many people looked so good - I am inspired to train so I can run fast... and to be fast and efficient at my aid stations instead of treating them like a buffet!

There wasn't as much carnage as I was expecting - we were told this year was much better than normal due to cooler weather.  They had a record completion rate of 82% and 120 finishers under 24.  There certainly were some folks who were hurting and we did our best to help them, feed them soup and encourage them.  Also our station had 2 podiatrists who were working double time popping blisters and bandaging beat up feet.  My understanding is Wasatch won't be quite so cushy :). 

We stayed there for over 12 hours and got to the finish line about 7 a.m. and watched a few folks finish.  Maybe it was staying up all night, but I got really emotional and broke down crying seeing some of the folks finishing, particularly one runner holding hands with his or her crew as they rounded out the track.

Otherwise, training has been relatively easy the last few weeks, but now ramping up for the final push.  We're going to Utah this weekend to cover as much of the course as we can (and snow allows!).  Then plan on doing lots of back-to-backs, probably the headlands 50, going to Tahoe for altitude and to Utah one more time in August.  I feel this lull in training did me really well.  I feel a lot stronger.

Cactus to Clouds take 2

I picked Sarah up from the Burbank airport at 7.  We had an ambitious plan to start hiking at 4 a.m.  Including a 2 hour to Palm Springs, the maximum we'd be able to sleep was 7 hours at that point.

But we also had to stop at REI on the way to pick up Sarah's refillable tubes (for peanut butter!) that I ordered delivered to the store and to fill out our first aid kit.  Well... the  tubes haven't gotten there yet, but we got first aid stuff and another light for Sarah, so now we each have two.  Also we were really hungry, so we stopped by a delicious Chinese dumpling place.  This probably should have been a Subway to go, in retrospect, but so it goes.  Including packing our Camelbaks for the next day, by the time we went to bed at our Motel 6, it was past midnight.

Needless to say I was not excited when that alarm rang at 3:30 a.m.  Slowly we rolled out of bed, dressed, and did last-minute things... and were on the trail by 4:20 a.m.  It was dark and hot.  Hot at 4 a.m. That's a bad sign.

Well, no turning back now.  We started briskly walking up the trail behind the Palm Springs art museum.  I started out fairly low energy, as starts tend to be for me and had a hard time keeping up with Sarah.  I ate a caffeinated Gu in an attempt to wake up.  The beginning section is also really steep and bouldery.  It's as if somebody just threw a bunch of boulders on a steep mountain-side, and we are going up that pile.  Which makes it go slow... but at the same time very encouraging.  Just 1 hour after we started we were already WAY over the city in Palm Springs.  It's really cool to be able to get high so fast.

And once we got out from the heat trap which is Palm Springs (nestled between San Jacinto and San Bernardino mountains), it got a little bit less hot and a faint breeze brought at leas an illusion of coolth which lifted our spirits.

Around 5:40ish, the bright merciless sun rose above the horizon and illuminated the beauty around us.  Desert hillsides and ridges covered in rugged thin-leaved desert plants and boulders with lots of boulders and red soil.  The sun was still very horizontal, so it didn't really add to the heat, and we were largely shielded from it by the ridges.  So far so good, we pushed on.

Sometime around 6ish I started feeling dizzy and light-headed and my stomach started feeling funny.  Despite the sun still being low, I also felt hot.  Not drenched in sweat hot, but hot.  So I sat on a rock in the shade to regroup.  It felt really good to sit.  Why not just sit here for a while and rest?

Sarah suggested I eat something as I haven't eaten much.  I was hoping that my big dinner was going to power me through the first couple of hours.  And food seemed disgusting.  But I took out a mint chocolate Clif bar.  Thanks to the warmth it was nice and moist.  I hate having to eat dry/hard foods while running, so moist is good.  It tasted better than I expected so I started eating.

After I sat around for maybe 5 or so minutes, Sarah tried to get me to move my butt.  "For every 5 minutes we rest now, it'd take 20 minutes longer due to the heat."  I tried to argue that I should rest more... and it's not really 20 minutes... but I knew and hated that she was right and we should keep moving.  So I forced myself to get up.

Being the limiting factor at this point, I took the lead and slowed down the pace just a tad.  One thing I learned about running in heat is that you don't get to decide how fast to go.  The body kind of does that and if you try to force it... well, there is serious risk of overheating and collapsing.  I've pushed it and came close before.

Slowing down the pace just a little bit did wonders.  I felt my rhythm normalizing and walking up the hill became easier.  The ridges came and went fairly quickly and soon, lo and behold, the side of Long Valley was in our view.  It looked closer than it should be!  Wow, we're already so close?  Long Valley is the plateau at about 8,500 where the tram is based as well as the ranger station.  And it was interesting to see the transition from desert to mountains.  Here we are surrounded by yuccas, desert shrub and a trail winding through red dust... and up there are gray massive monoliths with rich green pine trees.

At roughly the 2.5-3 hour mark we passed the high desert section which was really hot last year.  The one where I got so hot that I collapsed under the pathetic shade of a  bush and laid there for a while consuming copious amounts of fruit and fluids.  This time we were doing so much better and faster!  It wasn't quite as hot thanks to our early start and our energy levels were good.

One thing that I forgot about what makes this hike so hard is the poorly maintained trail.  Even the flat sections were hardly runnable due to being overgrown with plants and covered with rocks and boulders.  And we spent sometime figuring out which was the real trail and which was a fluke or a steep shortcut, even having to backtrack a little bit a few times.

Well... at one point the trail just went straight up the mountain.  At first we were sure it was a shortcut, but it just kept going and going.  The footing was treacherous, with rocks, loose sticks and sandy soil sliding from under my shoes.  And it was just really steep.  I think this is where both of us started to fall apart.

My stomach felt funny - I think partially due to trying a vanilla-flavored Clif gel.  Never eating vanilla during running again!  Disgusting.  I had a hard time getting down food... or water.  I ran out of my 3.5L Camelback at maybe the 3 hour mark, and still had 2.5L platypus to go which I figured should last me to the top.  It was also close to 8 a.m., so the sun was now way above the horizon and the heat was starting to do its work.  Oh yeah, and I forgot the elevation.  We must have been at 6000+ by then... and I was feeling it, breathing heavily and energy levels plummeting.  Also, my achilles tendons on both legs were feeling tender and sore and I was a bit worried because it took the left one a week to recover and it was actually in some pain.  The straight up uphill was not doing them good. Elevation + lack of sleep... also not good.

And Sarah had a massive headache which was somewhat helped by an Aleve,  but not completely.

I started getting worried about the Wasatch.  Doing mental calculations in my head.  If this was day 1... well, we'd be better rested for one, though the altitude would be similar.  But Day 2... at that point we would have been going for 24+ hours, would be at some of the highest elevations of the course (10,000+), and the legs would be more sore than I can begin to imagine.  I guess the only good difference is it won't be this hot, a big difference though it is.

Nevertheless we kept moving forward.  What else is there to do?  Our place slowed down a lot but we continued to trudge up, with an occasional very short break.  Finally were were able to see the tram station!  After what seemed like an eternity, the trail leveled out (i.e. started going up the mountain sideways instead of straight up!).  I think we even spotted the place where I proposed, with a nice view of the desert floor and the opposing mountain range, framed by trees.  That was a nice boost.

I noted that my knees were feeling shitty even on the slightest downhill at this section.  And THAT was disheartening.  Despite 2 weeks rest, some exercises and lots of foam rolling, the knees already felt bad after just a tiny bit of downhill.  And that was a downer.  But nothing to do about it now, just keep moving.

We were now up in the mountains.  The soil turned from red to grey.  Yuccas gave way to pine trees and down tree trunks.  Getting close!

Finally the trail turned straight up again, but we could already see the top!  This is where it got particularly hard to navigate at some places... but thanks to our experience last time and careful looking, we navigated it just fine.  It felt like it took forever, though I think it was much faster than last time.

We stepped onto the plateau drained in 5 hours 20 minutes, much faster than the 9 hours last year!!!  11 miles and 8000 feet up.  About 2 miles/hour in heat.  NICE!

The plateau was completely empty, a stark contrast to all the people we saw last time.  We found the ranger station which looked closed.  Well, that's OK.  I started filling out the permit and Sarah went to the bathroom - what a concept, a bathroom!

Trying to fill out the permit, I realized how utterly exhausted and shitty I felt.  Weak, and dizzyish, with unsteady hands making for some ugly letters.  Sarah's headache was raging, so she took another Aleve.  At that point we knew we were not going to walk back down as originally planned.  Beside the general exhaustion, I was worried about my knees, the steep brutal 2,000 near the top on a treacherous poorly laid trail, and of course the rest of it too, down in the furnace.  But now that we made it up at 9:40... of course were were going to the top!

Setting our ambitious aside, we decided to rest at the ranger station for a  bit.  Seeing my lemonade-colored pee, I confirmed that I was dehydrated (I had 1-1.5L left in my Platypus while I expected to go through it all), and set out to fix that as well as to get some food into me while Sarah took a nap on the ground.  Suddenly a bunch of fresh, well-rested people showed up, some of them wearing flip flops.  Turns out we beat the first tram up, which I think is badass.

The way to the top was mellow compared to the first part.  We were actually able to do some running!  Came across a hut shelter close to the top, and I left a Clif bar in the shelter for the unfortunate soul who would need to use it next.  The last 50' was scrambling through snow and boulders to the summit, at 10,800 ft!  We hung out there for a while and talked to some other folks, telling them about our crazy wedding idea.

I started getting antsy and cold, and I wanted to pee, so we went back down on our way.  To my elation, my knees were holding up great on the downhill!!!  I even started to second-guess that I wound up taking an Aleve, even though I remember deciding not to.  Well, that was a pleasant surprise.  While we still didn't do much running due to a rocky, technical trail and lack of energy, it was nice to know that my knees were not dead.

We got back down on the tram around 4:30 and took a cab back to the car at the museum.

I am disappointed we didn't get to run all the way back down... but we did great given the circumstances.  The ultra mantra of "just keep moving" proved true here... even though it felt like we were going at a leisurely or at times slow pace... just by being able to move forward, we still made it up fast.

Taking a breather

I decided to give the old legs a rest after the punishment of the last month and a half or so.  I got to a point where my legs couldn't recover in between my weekend runs and took Aleve on the last three runs to help deal with knee pain/inflammation.  So the last couple of weeks I did one little run, some working out at the Gym and a bike ride.

It's been nice and my legs haven't felt this good months!  Even my shin feels pretty much brand new and my knees feel normal again.  Wow.

I also saw a personal trainer - someone my boss and his wife recommended.  She thought I had really good running form (yay!  not bad for never having any formal distance coaching and picking it up from Born to Run and YouTube videos).  She thought my knee issues stem from a tight IT Band and a muscle imbalance.  So she mainly recommended to use a foam roller to release/stretch the IT Band and a couple of exercises to strengthen the side muscles of my legs (i.e. inner thighs and outer) which I've been doing regularly.  Also it's nice having someone knowledgeable that I can now ask questions.

But... break is over!!!

Tomorrow sairy and I are going to finish some unfinished business in Palm Springs.  Last year we went there to do the Cactus to Clouds hike (C2C) from the Palm Springs Art Museum all the way up to the summit of Mt. San Jacinto, about 17 miles and 11,000 ft up one way.  But due to a freak late spring snowstorm, the mountain was covered in snow and impassable without snow gear above 9000 feet or so.  So we didn't make it to the top, though I did propose on said hike ;).

Well, now we're back with a vengeance to capture what has eluded us!  Last year it took us about 9 hours to get to the aerial tram station (about 8,500 ft up).  We went slow, had heavy packs, were subjected to 100 degree heat (due to being slow and starting at 7).  At one point I had to lie under a bush for a while just to cool off.

So I'm hoping this year will be different.  We're in way better shape.  We are much better at managing heat, fluids, electrolytes and nutrition.  We won't have packs - just CamelBaks stuffed with Clif Bars, Gus, and almost 3 gallons of water between us.  And we're starting at 4 a.m. which should enable us to mostly avoid the heat on the way up while we're at lower altitudes.

So once we get to the tram station, we can refill water, do a quick up-and-down to the summit, and then do the grueling descent back from the tram.  That will be a real test of my knees.

Also, I'm going to play around with a downhill running idea.  Well it's actually an old idea.  In my determination to break my heel-striking habit, as advised in Born to Run, I started landing religiously on my forefoot.  And I think that's actually bad for running on steep downhills.  On steep downhills, the angle is such that even if I land on the heel, the forward and downward momentum would have my foot roll naturally, if I let it, from the heel onto the forefoot.  So even though I'm landing on the heel, there is little strike on it.  Or so I think.  Conversely, trying to land on the forefoot on steep downhills is awkward, creates a lot of braking force and is really hard on the quads and, I think, the knees.  My trainer seems to agree.  So... I'll give this a whirl!  At least on the sections of the trail that are 'runnable'.  A lot of it is going to be so steep that we'll be walking even on the down.

Other than this... the next 9-10 weeks are going to be intense training.  We got the Headlands 50 coming up in July, and we'll be doing back to back 20-30 or 30-30 weekends.  We'll be going to Utah twice to train on the course, and also we'll be going to Tahoe once or twice to get altitude training.  So with luck and good preparation, I hope my body will allow me to get through all of that.  Though I am prepared to step back at the first sign of injury or over-training.  It's now getting to close to the wire to take unnecessary risks.

If we are indeed successful through this training, I believe we have a shot at a sub-30 finish.  Still a long shot, but seems it would be within reach.  We've been flirting with the idea a little bit.  Partially motivated by the fact that the sub-30 belt buckle sounds way more exciting than the Finisher belt buckle.  Inlaid turquoise or some crazy gaudy thing ;). But for now, the focus is on the training at hand.  And 10 weeks later we'll know what shape we're in and decide what goals/hopes to set.  No matter what, the goal is to finish and we'd be absolutely ecstatic if we do... though getting a sub-30 would be a cherry on top.  A watermelon-sized cherry.

Running with Elke

Today we did day 1 of Western States training weekend in Auburn, a small town 30 miles east of Sacramento.  Western States 100 is the oldest hundred miler in North America (at least).  It's very prestigious.  To qualify you have to complete another 100 or a 50 miler in under 11 hours.  And after that, the chances of getting in through the lottery are about 12%.  So many ultra runners start their year by traditionally submitting their WS lottery forms.

Auburn claims to be the Endurance Capital of the World, or so the banners say around town.  Well, today that was proven to be true.  Hundreds of runners congregated for the WS training weekend, which is open to everyone, not just WS participants.  It consists of a 30 mile day on Saturday, today, and 20-milers on Sunday & Monday.

The original course of the 30 mile day was diverted because one aid station site was inaccessible due to snow.  So Elke, our new friend whom we met at Mt. Diablo, invited us to join her and her running buddies to run a different route, since she didn't like the new diverted course.  We happily accepted.  We were also joined by Annette, Elke's friend whom she paced at WS last year to a successful finish.

Well... the run today was almost as much chatting and hanging out as running.  We kept running into other ultra runners even on our diverted course.  And Elke knew all of them!  At one section we couldn't run for 2 minutes without stopping to catch up and hang out.  And at one point we ran into some friends we've met at Mt. Diablo.  There were ultra runners EVERYWHERE! 

Apparently Auburn has a really strong ultra community.  Even the county DA is an ultrarunner (and of course Elke's friend).  We've met a few legends.  One guy, Bill, easily in his late 60s, has done the Leadville 26 years in a row.  Another guy, Tim, has finished WS in <24 hours some 20+ years in a row and running.  And we saw the guy who started it all!  WS was originally a horse race.  And some 40 years ago this guy had a problem with his horse, so he asked if he could just run it... and he won!  And so the Western States 100 mile Endurance run was born.  He was an old, bearded, gnarly old guy with ripped legs like the incredible hulk.

Running with Elke was really really fun.  She's very positive, social and experienced.  And it looks certain that she'll pace us for the Wasatch, which significantly improves our chances of finishing.  That'd be amazing.  We had lots of good conversations and she gaves us lots of tips as well, particularly not to dawdle at aid stations, like I tend to do. 

The run itself was gorgeous.  We spanned 3 canyons, going down and up, down and up, down, and then all the way back.  The forest was lush and the canyons so deep and beautiful.  And each one had a river on the bottom.  There was a river crossing in the beginning which required some wading, so it was running on wet feet. 

My knees acted up quickly, since they're not fully recovered from Silver State.  Luckily Elke gave me some Aleve, which made it OK most of the way.  It took us about 9 hours to do 32 miles, but considering the terrain (this is the hardest climbs during WS), being social butterfiles, and not trying that hard (we need to save something for tomorrow and Monday!), this is not bad. 

On the whole it was great fun, we've met lots of cool people and enjoyed being part of the community.  Apparently we're gaining a little bit of fame as Elke has been talking about our crazy plan.  We had people come up to us with "OMG you're THE COUPLE."  Everyone here thinks our idea is really cool... compared to most folks in the outside world who think we're crazy.

More Ultra, More Experience, Making Progress!

I haven't posted in a while, mostly because we've kept busy running! 

We ran the Silver State 50 miler last weekend out by Reno.  Everyone was afraid the course was going to be snowed in, seeing all the snow on the West side of the mountains... but the snow thins out a lot on the East side, Reno side.  So we could see snow along the trail and it made for a gorgeous view of the mountains in the distance, but we didn't have to trudge through it. 

It was also our first run at real altitude - 4700-8200 feet.  Which made the first 4-5 hours pretty rough for me, in addition to having to be at the start line at 6 while only getting like 4-5 hours of sleep due to waking up at like 3 a.m. from pre-race adrenaline.  I was breathing pretty heavily during that time until I got acclimated. 

The first 8 or so hours in general were rough.  I had a few short-lived sections where I felt good, but on the whole felt low energy and my muscles felt full of lactic acid.  Then around mile 30 we hit a nasty downhill and my knees just got shot, particularly my left.  Ugh... I was felt sooooooooooo beat and frustrated and in pain.  I gingerely walked some of the steeper sections, and hobbled the rest of them.  And I knew that after that, we go back up to the 8200ft summit the second time, and then 10 miles of donwhill to the finish.  It was not looking good.

Finally we hit the 34 mile aid station, 1 hour before the cut-off!!!  Compared to Mt. Diablo which we hit 15 minutes before cut-off.  So we were still making really good time and pace, much better than Mt. Diablo (which was way more brutal, by the way.  I decided that terrain is a much tougher challenge that being at high altitude).  We were doing about 13 minute miles, which is really good for us for this sort of terrain and distance. 

Well, I took my time at that aid station.  And some kind soul gave me two ibuprofens.  I later found out that ibuprofens are actually really bad during running because they're hard on the kidneys which are already in overdrive from processing all that water, gus, and other junk.  But it made my knee pain go away and that's all I cared about.  The last 16 miles I surged.  I felt GREAT.  I never had a race or a long run where I felt better towards the end than the beginning... but that was it.  I just got into a rhythm and felt like I could keep going.

Sarah had the opposite race.  She was having the run of her life, literally, for the first 2/3, and then ran out of steam as I surged.  So she supported me when she was feelin good and I felt shitty and vice versa. 

Also, I have to give special thanks to the race organizers and the aid station volunteers.  The course was amazingly well marked.  Not only was there a ton of flags, but also there was chalk powder arrows!  And at intersections, they even crossed out the wrong way, with chalk powder, and wrotee "NO".  Classic. 

One of the best moments of the race was at mile 40 aid, after climbing back up to Mt. Peavine.  We decided to change shoes.  And I miraculously found a pair of clean socks in my drop bag which I was perfectly willing to put onto my filthy feet.  Well, one of the volunteers was like "Oh, don't you want to wash those first?"  As if it was a perfectly normal thing to wash one's feet on top of a desert mountain at mile 40 of an ultra.  Well, apparently it was, as she handed me a bucket of water with a sponge, and then dried my feet off with a paper towel and gave me vaseline to put between my toes to prevent blisters.  Pure bliss.

The race felt very personal and I got more of a sense of the community.  I think because this is Reno's big race of the year. 

We finished in 12:47, well before the 14 hour cut-off.  I feel good about our progress, about our ability to run together, help each other, and overcome problems and adversity as they arise.

My First Ultra = Pure Brutality

I started writing a play by play narrative of the race... but regretfully I simply don't have the time right now to complete that monster, so I will post what I have, then summarize nice moments from the race, and conclude with general thoughts on the race and our training from my email to Kristen Farley, an ultrarunner who has been helping guide our training.

The Mt. Diablo 60K is perhaps the hardest race the Bay area has to offer.  Scaling Mt. Diablo twice, it features 11,000 feet of elevation gain and loss. To convert it into Wasatch terms, that’s 29,000 ft over 100 miles compared to 27,000 ft for the Wasatch.

Trying to nurse my shin, I haven’t really run for a month.  I was feeling pent up energy and desire spend another day out on the trails.  I read in Runner’s World that the whole concept of carbo-loading, as most people imagine it – eating a giant bowl of pasta the night before the race – wasn’t actually a good thing.  So we didn’t do anything particularly different with food, other than making sure that we were eating a lot and drinking lots of water the day or so before the race.  Also, I thought I would experiment and take a Salt Stick capsule before going to sleep to see if it helps me retain more water.  I think it did as I didn’t pee as much as normal in the morning… but not for long enough – I raced to the bathroom the minute we got to the race’s parking lot.

Worried about my shin, I bought a pair of Brooks Cascadias on recommendation of a salesperson at Fleet Feet.  While my old Asics have worked for me so far, I wanted something with fresher cushioning.  I insisted on buying them in size 10 even though I was told it felt like it was too small for me.  But it felt nice and tight and my foot didn’t wobble inside.  I like a particularly tight fit on my running shoes.  Since wearing new shoes for a race like this is a big risk, I made sure to pack my torn up but trusty old Asics into my drop bag.

The whole drop bag concept is very useful.  I didn’t realize its power until now.  A drop bag is simply a bag with your stuff that the race organizers transport to whatever aid station you choose (where drop bags are offered).  There were two drop bag-enabled aid stations, so Sarah and I packed a drop bag for each of them. 

[end of pre-composed narrative, followed by quick segments, including pictures]

-- ultrarunners really don't run uphills.  Even on the first mild uphill all but the frontrunners started walking

-- we had nice conversations with a few folks while walking up

-- we stayed in the "middle of the pack" until after about the first 10 miles; made summit in a pretty good time, maybe 3.5 mph. 

On our way to the summit for the first time

 -- we inadvertently cheated by cutting a little bit of the course on the way down from the summit by following another pair of runners and not paying attention. they missed the turn and so did we.  we admitted to our indiscretion at the aid station and ran a lap around the campground to call it square.  changed from new shoes to trusty but beatup and tractionless old Asics.  new shoes turned out to be too small.

-- the mile 14-19 loop was perhaps the lowest points of the race for me.  i expected it to be relatively easy and quick... but it just went on and on.  i started overheating, was worried about the 3 p.m./mile 27 cut-off and was running on fumes.

-- took about 15 minutes at the aid station to eat food and regroup.  probably could have been faster, but felt like i really needed it.  

-- convinced Elke, and experienced ultra-runner we met earlier, to run with us instead of dropping out.  she had some asthma issues and was not doing well earlier.  it was great to have her company and conversation.

On our way to Rock City - so pretty!

-- the next 5 miles to "Rock City" were relatively straightforward, except for getting too hot, dunking my head into nearby streams and taking off my shirt and getting burned.  Rocky City was indeed that.

-- here Elke came out faster than us from the aid station and we didn't wind up catching her.  Instead made the last 2.8 miles uphill walk (mostly) to the cut-off point with Martin, an experienced ultrarunner who is 57 (we found out later!  looked like late 40s!) and another one, Nadia (?).  I was focused on making it before the cut-off, though we still had good conversation.  He recommended his shoes, Sportiva Wildcat, which I will probably try.  He's running Western States where we're going to volunteer, so we'll see him again.  He was really nice and encouraging.  Just kept telling us how great we're doing.

-- made the cut-off with 15 minutes to spare.  Sairy was having some breathing issues - perhaps from feeling like she was getting sick in the few days leading up to the race.  so we took a little bit of time at this aid station.  while she was taking care of herself, I made sure to pack some caffeinated gus for her for the long trek down.

-- hiked up 1.6 miles to the summit with Sairy and Kyle, another first timer.  refilled water at the summit to prepare for the final stretch of 8 miles of brutal/steep/technical downhill

Tackling the last big uphill on the way down

-- it sucked.  mainly because my left knee was really acting up at this point.  and due to not having any treads left on my old trail Asics.  Sairy had to slow way down for me on the downhills.  i had to walk pretty much all but the gentlest slopes.  some places were so steep and treacherous that with my knee and treadless shoes, i pretty much had to hold on to branches and roots while going down at a snail's pace.  it was frustrating as i clearly had energy and juice left as I was being able to run fast and with full strides on flat sections.  my mental state was fairly deteriorated and i just wanted to be done.  kept looking over at the mine site (which was really cool-looking - they pretty much took out the side of the mountain so we could see all the layers inside) where the race started to gauge how far down we were.  ate some gus and honeys.

-- at one point sairy asked me if i had any caffeinated gel, and i handed her the mocha flavored (disgusting!) clif shot with caffeine which i packed at the last station from our drop bag just for her.  she was pleasantly surprised.  and i think that's the whole point of doing it together - we take care of each other.

-- we speeded through the last mile or so of relative flat.  the applause and smiles at the finish line was one of the best feelings ever.  both from having finished and from how happy people were for us.

-- everyone commented how smiley we were... i suppose that makes us ultra-runners... to go through those last 8 miles of pure suckage and still have a shit-eating grin from having done it all.

Still smiling!

*************************
The thoughts below are what I wrote to Kristen, our ultra-mentor.

-- We loved being in the community for the first time.  The 60K had only 40 entrants and felt like many folks know each other.  Everybody was really nice and we got to run and chat with a few of them.  Made some friends - somebody who is also doing Silver State, and another runner who will be running WS.  Also made friends with another experienced runner who may pace us for the Wasatch.  Learned a lot just by talking to people.

-- It was REALLY REALLY HARD.  We've never done anything this intense, both in distance and elevation change.  The average grade is even tougher than the Wasatch.  So it was certainly good trading (albeit at lower altitude).  We had a relatively easy time hiking even the steepest uphills consistently, which is a good sign.  However, my knee acted up in a way it never has before, so we lost a lot of time on the downhills that we shouldn't have.  Perhaps it was due to not running for practically a month leading up to it as I was trying to nurse my shin.  We barely made the first cut-off - 27 miles in 8 hours, and finished 30 minutes before the final 12-hour cut-off.  I tell you, those last 8 miles of brutal/technical downhill were really trying on me.  With my knee in bad shape by then and no traction on my shoes (more on that later), we were doing 20 minute miles.  I suppose it's good practice for that Wasatch ending.  The frustrating part was that I clearly had more juice left - the minute we got a relatively flat section on the trail, I was able to run fast at full strides, but had to slow down to practically a walk at even slight downhills because of my knee.  I think it was just a bad day for the left knee - it felt fully recovered by Tuesday, and we just did a 22 mile hilly run on Friday, 5 days after Diablo, where the knees felt fine, so that's good. My shin felt generally fine too.  

-- We're starting to understand what you meant by how running together is this much harder.  While we've yet to hit those miserable lows you speak off which are going to be mismatched, we did slow each other down by being strong at different things that day.  I was doing better on uphills and flats while Sarah was rocking the downhills.  But we went at the speed of the slowest person.

-- Learned a few things about Nutrition.  First, the Clif bars that work for us so well in training sounded completely disgusting during the race.  I was only able to get down 2.  Also eating another bonk breaker and random potatoes chips & stuff at aid stations. And of course gels.  One Surprising revelation was that I _love_ the Honey Stinger gels while running.  Good to know!  Thanks for the tip of trying everything at Zombie runner :).  Also the Salt Stick capsules worked great for me.  In 11 hours of running in the heat I drank close to 12 liters of water, took a capsule roughly every hour and was peeing regularly and never had any cramping sensations.  I do think that I wasn't consuming enough calories per hour.  I made it through the race, but I think it'd need to be able to eat more for the Wasatch.  So my next food goal is finding more things I can eat on the go that are not sugar, like those frozen costco burritos (hey, they warm up to room temperature while running!)

-- Quads quads quads!  Wow, never have my quads felt so beat.  They didn't start feeling normal until day 4. I think I was compensating with quads for my knee, so they took a particular beating.  But this is not an unlikely scenario for the Wasatch, so I need to get my quads way stronger.  More hills!!!

-- Shoes!  I thought I'd try new, relatively cushy shoes to help protect my shin, so I got the Brooks Cascadias.  I put my worn out old Asics in my drop bags.  And had to change into them after 10 miles.  Still trying to find the right shoes.  Maybe I should just get me another pair of the Asics since they seem to work for me and experiment during the off-season.  They just feel so big and thick.  I love being able to feel the trail.

-- Bring a hat!  And sunscreen.  This is our first run in heat, really.  I started overheating, especially my head, so I took off my shirt, which helped with the heat, but got brutally burned.  It was worth it!

In conclusion... we have a bit more preparation to do than we thought.  I think we'll try to rack up another race or two.  And the 30-20-20 Wasatch training weekend a week after the Silver State should be good training.  Once that's done, we'll take stock and decide how to best spend our remaining 3 months.  Seeing how beat my legs felt after Diablo, I think I need a lot more long, hilly runs under my belt.  Because they're going to have to take almost 3x as much punishment at the Wasatch.  Maybe I could have gone another 10 miles on that course.  But another 20, 30, 60...?  I don't know.  Perhaps if I was going really slow.  So we def. want to do more long hilly runs, more training at high elevation (we'll be doing training weekends in Tahoe on our own, maybe do the Tahoe Rim Trail route or something), and those 24 hour hikes you recommended.  We'll be going to Utah for 5 days on July 4th weekend and we'll do as much of the course as we can.  And we'll probably come back to Utah again before the race.  

Big Race this Weekend

Well, I was able to run 8-9 miles on Saturday without problems.  The shin felt a little tender afterwards, but no pain despite repeated poking into the bones.  So that's good.

On Sunday we're doing the Mt. Diablo 60K, which is going to be pure brutality.  The elevation profile is even tougher than the Wasatch (11K ft gain over 37 miles compared to wasatch 27K over 100 miles) (http://www.pctrailruns.com/elevations.aspx?dtid=6135, bottom graph).  Of course it's shorter and at lower elevation than the Wasatch.  But it's going to be by far the toughest thing we've done to date.

The cut-off is 12 hours, so at this stage my goal, given my recovering shin, would be for us to make it within the cut-off.

We'll be doing lots of hiking, so I'm thinking of getting the Black Diamond Ultra Distance Trekking Poles to ease the impact on my legs.  First, I'm going to try Matt's trekking poles on the trail tonight to see if I even like poles.  If I do, than those would be a good addition to my arsenal.  They weigh only 9oz for the pair and compress down to 1 foot, so can easily throw them into the camelbak.

I'm scared (because of my shin), but really excited at the same time.  I just love spending so much time in the wilderness, going up and down mountains :).  And it would be nice to have other folks taking care of food, water, logistics, routing, not to mention having like-minded crazy people out there.

The minimum event on that course is a marathon (compared to the 11K at the last trail race we did), which means only the really crazy people will be out.

not running - boo

looks like i have very early beginning of a stress fracture in my shin, so I haven't run for a week.  i think it's due to getting over-exuberant about new minimalist shoes and running 18 miles, 26 miles, and small runs in between. i think it's partially due to more heel-striking in the new shoes with less cushioning and also due to not landing as much on the outside of my feet.

even though i didn't follow my own advice of transitioning slowly (i kept running in them and it felt fine!), at least i caught it really early.  it doesn't hurt, just feels mildly tender and discomfort, and has gotten a lot better in the last week, but hasn't gone away completely.  so i'm taking calcium pills and taking it easy for at least another week.  then will start working runs in slowly.  i know i'm in shape to do the 38 mile run on April 30, so i will take the next 3 weeks to make sure it's healed.  and will wear my old cushy asics.  i'd love to transition out of them, but for now, i can run in them without hurting myself, and that's good enough for me.

and i'll probably wait till after the Wasatch to really work the minimalist shoes again.  i love the traction and feeling the trail, but at this point there is no wiggle room for error.

one good thing about not running was a chance to support sarah on her 30 mile run this last Sunday.  it was fun being her aid station.  i think it will be fun supporting each other over, hopefully, many more ultras to come.

Marathon Recap

Well, the feeling of fatigue I discussed in the pre-race post turned out to be some sort of a mild stomach bug.  While normally my metabolism is running at 100mph, I couldn't eat anything for most of the day on Friday.  Just a little bit of borsch, some edamame and potato chowder soup.  And everything ached all over.  Not a good thing two days before the race.

I hung out with Galen rather incoherently after work on Friday, thinking that if I wake up feeling like this tomorrow I might have to rethink whether I'm running.  Then I remember the state that Sarah was in (dying of bronchitis) when we did the 20 mi trail race in pouring rain back in November and decided I'm going to do it no matter what.  

I drove to my folks' house and managed to get to bed before 10.  Despite waking up in the middle of the night for an hour or two, I got solid 8-9 hours of sleep and woke up feeling refreshed, clear-headed, not achy, but still weak.  Great!

Eating still wasn't working quite right.  I barely got down a sandwich that my dad made for breakfast - it tasted like cardboard.  Picked up Sarah at the airport and spent the day dealing with errands (talking to jeweler about wedding bands, picking up marathon stuff) and trying to get as much carbs down as possible.. not very successfully.  Nevertheless, my energy levels continued to improve throughout the day.  When Sarah and I had to run across the street on a yellow light... it felt good!  Not stiff or achy.  YES.

Prepped supplies for tomorrow.  I was tempted to wear my Underarmour long-sleeve back from Caltech trak days, but wearing it around the house for a couple of minutes, I decided I would get too hot in it.  So instead I opted for a merino wool t-shirt.  Laid out my PowerBar gels - I figured if I am not getting enough food in me, I will just have to propel myself with carbo gels, caffeine (some of the gels have 25-50mg of caffeine) and gatorade at the race.  Not as good as carbo-loading in advance, but it would have to do.  

Went to bed around 10 and surprisingly got a decent amount of sleep, despite folks coming in and out and being generally pumped about the race.  (I would look at Sarah and say with semi-mock disbelief "We're running a marathon tomorrow" and she'd look back at me with "Shit!")

Got up at 5:20, showered (call me vain, but I haven't washed my hair in a couple of days and it felt and looked disgusting), got ready, and got picked up by Matt, Howard, and Suz (Howard's girlfriend) around 5:50.  Ate a banana and a half in the car, tried eating a Clif bar... but could barely get it down.  Maybe ate half of it.  Not good.  Oh well, it's going to have to be the gels.

All roads leading up to Dodger Stadium were a parking lot, not surprisingly so.  So we wound up getting out of the car and walking over 2 miles.  Thankfully it wasn't raining.

Sarah and I got separated from Matt & Howard along the way, so we wound up starting without them.  I didn't see either of them throughout the race.  I ate an apple-flavored gel with 25mg of caffeine to get my juices flowing about 30 minutes pre-start. 

It was a huge crowd of people but it also felt really disorganized as there wasn't enough structure or staff to tell folks where to go. I felt bewildered yet excited to be part of something so enormous.  

The announced announced the wheelchairs, then the elite women (who got a head start), and 17 minutes later everybody else.  Oh shit, here we go.  My excitement built as we made our way to the start line in a river of people of all colors (skin and clothes), heights, shapes (ok, they were skinnier than the average Americans), and walks of life.  

We crossed the start line only about 6 minutes later than the elite men.  I was surprised that it took so little time to get 15000 people through.  My legs felt good, my energy felt good.  Well, here it goes!  Sarah and I started our watches and off we go.  

Running in a river of people is really slow.  Eventually I caught on to Sarah's technique of bypassing the crowd on the sides and sidewalks.  So we were able to go fast from the very beginning which was nice and a good morale boost.

So speaking of my strategy... I wasn't really sure!  Judging from training runs, I thought I should be able to get 3:45 or 8:30 minute pace no problem.  But was inwardly hoping for a better pace, perhaps 8:15, which puts me solidly into the 3:30s.  So when I clocked in my first mile at just over 8:00, I thought I was just going fast at the start.  

Overall, I think I did a good job of not "going out too fast" as my pace remained remarkably consistent at around 8:00-8:15.  

Sairy and I ran together for a mile or two and after that I was on my own.  The first drops of rain came as we were getting out of Dodger stadium and I felt lucky to be running and generating heat instead of standing around.  

The rain got stronger as we ran through China town and Downtown LA.  I was amazed and grateful at how many people came out to support us in what was becoming pouring rain.  They were clapping, screaming, beating drums.  It was a really neat feeling to run through the many different communities in LA and experience their culture and support.

The crowd was still very thick.  I kept trying to run in the middle because the road is slanted on the side, but that kept getting me bogged down.  So I gave up and went off to the side or sidewalk.  

I was promised "an inflatable mile marker at every mile."  So after seeing the big orange giant balloon looking thing with Mile 1, I was expecting it for mile 2, but didn't see it.  "Maybe I'm running way slower", I thought to myself?  It didn't feel like it, so I pushed the thought away and kept focusing on running.

Lo and behold at Mile 3 marker I'm still at just over 8:00 pace.  I felt a bit low on energy as we neared one of the hills in Downtown - one of a handful hills with a significant incline on the course.  So I utilized the Ultramarathon mantra of walking uphills by slowing down and eating a non-caffeinated vanilla flavored gel.  It was disgusting.

It felt like I was going slow, but seeing the next available marker, turned out I was still at around 8:05 pace.  My legs started feeling a little bit tired around mile 5-6.  So I made a brief stop at a Gatorade station by the pond in Echo Park which looked pretty with all the rain drops.  I caught my breath, chugged the Gatorade, and by the time I got going, it felt like I was getting into "I can run like this forever" mode which is the best feeling about running.

And right as that was happening, I passed by a DJ stand blasting something upbeat and electronic, and I was PUMPED.  I felt so happy and elated to be out there running with all these people in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, grateful to the folks who put up the music and all the fans who were out cheering. Life is good!

It's fairly frequent with me to take around 45 minutes to warm up and get into the "I can run forever" rhythm.  And it also often happens that I get into my rhythm right after taking a short pause to get some calories.  So this happened like clockwork.

Riding that high for the next number of miles was pleasant. The miles blended into each other… 7…9… 11.  I continued making a solid 8:05-8:07 pace and eventually found myself on Hollywood Boulevard with its own folks and flavors.  Almost to the halfway mark!  At what point am I going to hit my wall?

Feeling my muscles getting a little sore and tired – generally a sign of more food needed – I slowed down and had another gel, a caffeinated one of some fruity flavor, on one of the uphills leading off Hollywood boulevard, something like mile 11.  Taking the rest on the uphill and the sugar helped restore me, and I flushed it down with some Gatorade and water at the next opportunity.

In the next few miles I chugged another gel, this one double-caffeinated (50mg).  And a little bit later, getting into Beverly Hills, I found myself in complete Euphoria.  It must have been the caffeine combined with the runner’s high and general happiness of making such a good time and still not feeling the list bit tired.  I felt ecstatic. 

The deluge of rain unleashed full force, massive rain drops bombarding my already soaked soaked body, cold gusty wind blowing me back, many folks around looking gloomy and determined… and I didn’t care.  I felt great.  Running through those gorgeous, manicured streets, I spread my arms out and screamed, “Come on Rain, bring it on!!! Is this all you’ve got!?!”  I screamed as I passed fans, riling them up.  I made a detour to give a high-5 to a little boy and girl watching on the side, their smiling parents behind.  I ran by lines of fans giving double high 5s to everyone. 

Some helpful fan is handing out water bottles along the way.  I yell “Thanks!” to thank him for his kindness, but run right past him, feeling hydrated well-enough.  Another guy behind me picks up the water bottle and actually offers me a sip, but I decline.

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, mile 16, here I come, just 10 to go and I can speed up!

Rodeo drive, I recognized in passing the Frank Lloyd Wright building that Sarah and I visited for my History of Architecture final project.  That was in our first month of dating. 

Oh, there is another fan on the side, and older gentleman in a black jacket who looks like he wants a high 5.  Off I go, clap, and keep going…

And stumble to a grinding halt as my right hamstring refuses to let go and is seized by icy, steely and piercingly painful sensation of a cramp.  The first thought that flashes in my mind is the irony of my showing off to be shot down so brutally.  And the second thought is NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fortunately I cramped right next to a coconut water station which claims that it’s perfect against cramping.  LUCKY ME as I stumble my way to the station and greedily gulp down 4-5 cups. 

If there is one thing I know about cramping is that it’s caused by either a shortage of fluids or electrolytes or both.  Since I’ve been eating gels and drinking Gatorade, I conclude that lack of liquids is the more likely culprit. 

I take a rest at the coconut station and the realization sets in that I probably can’t continue at my 8 minute pace.  Well, I made good progress so perhaps I can still finish at 3:45, my original goal.  I make a mental note to drink more water along the way, and resume running.

While I’m running slower, I still seem to be able to maintain proper form and reasonable pace. 

And then it happens.  Somewhere around mile 18 both of my hamstrings cramp up at the same time in the most debilitating cramp of my life. 

I stop dead in my tracks.  In the middle of the road.  The cold cruel rain cutting me all over.  My hamstrings half contracted and absolutely stuck in that position.  They hurt.  They really hurt.  The crazy part about the pain of a cramp is how all-encompassing it is.  If you fall and scrape up your leg, it hurts where you scraped it up.  But a cramped hamstring is filled with pain from top to bottom, inside out.  And it feels that if I try to bend  or unbend my leg just one bit, my muscle is going to tear to shreds.

And then I start realizing how frigging cold it really is.  Running fast in my Euphoria, it didn’t matter.  But as I slowed down, my heat generation slowed.  And I’m sure my fuel was getting exhausted too.  And now… completely soaked, cold, everyone passing me, standing in the middle of the road in pouring rain, desperately rubbing both of my hamstrings in hopes of massaging them to life, I hit the lowest physical low of my life.

Another runner stops next to me.  “What’s going on buddy?  Come on, you just got to keep going, yes, that’s right, start slow, but just gotta keep moving forward.”  I make a few hesitant steps.  “You want some of this pain reliever spray?”  It’s not going to be useful against cramps, I know that.  “Sure.” I say, and he sprays my hams and I rub it all over.  His kindness and the placebo effect of the spray lifted my spirits and I started walking forward uncertainly and then a little more briskly, while continuously rubbing both of my hamstrings.  I imagine it looks comical.  It doesn’t feel comical.

At this point I resign to an idea of making or beating any specific time.  It’s now Survival Mode.  Just make it to the end and get it done.  I hope this doesn’t happen at mile 16 of the Wasatch.  Cuz if it does… we are screw-ewed.  But I have to focus on the task at hand, I force myself to do that.

I attempt to run again, but after a little while it feels like cramps are at my doorstep again, so I slow down to a brisk walk.  My energy levels feel great… I just can’t use my legs.  How frustrating!

I’m also really cold.  Thankfully the route passes under a bridge pretty soon.  I get under the bridge and stop, taking big breaths and enjoying not being bombarded by rain.  I feel like a down and out homeless person taking a reprieve under a bridge for the lack any other better place.  And it feels demoralizing being off to the side and standing while everybody else is passing by.  But I have to do for myself what I need to do for myself.  And I’m so happy and relieved to stop, be dry (well, not get more wet), and take a breather.  I consume my last gel, some fruity thing with no more caffeine, attempt to do a little bit of stretching (man do I feel stiff). Regretfully I leave the underpass and venture back out into the wet cold.

I stop at some aid stations and down several cups of water and Gatorade.  But I don’t realize how dehydrated I am until I pick up a bottle of water from a kind fan, down it on the go, then finally feel the urge to pee, go into a porta-pottie, and observe the dense bright yellow texture of what comes out.  Wow.  Normally I pee every 60 minutes or so when I’m running and properly hydrated, and here I didn’t feel the urge until past hour 3.

“Wow, it’s Dima!” I hear a female voice from behind and to my left.

And I see Sarah, around mile 21.  I explain to her that I cramped up at mile 16 and have been struggling since.  She suggests we stop and stretch.  That’s sweet of her to do that for me.  I oblige, but instantly realize that I really don’t want to be stretching right now.  I just want to be done.  So I urge us to keep going and we do. 

While normally I would feel very excited to run into Sarah, at that point, after struggling through and fending for myself for the last hours, I was in my own zone and just wanted to do my own thing, and get it done.

Thankfully Sarah is doing well… certainly pushing herself and having a tough time, but nothing catastrophically wrong.  So next time I have an urge to go pee, I tell her to keep going, as I want her to meet her own goals and not hold back because of me.

I see another fan passing out goodies – WOW, these people are so nice to come out in the rain and buy all this stuff with their own money to give to me.  “What do you need?  We’ve got soda, sports drink, pretzels..”

“Can I just have that bottle of water?  Thank you so much!”

And off I go, chugging the water.  Soon I begin to feel bloated – probably a function of that stomach bug because I can’t possibly be overhydrated.  So I drop the water on the ground and push on.

Around this time I discover something wonderful.  If I have plenty of energy, I can barely move my legs, I am wearing 5-year old Asics with smoothed out bottoms, and the road is slick and slippery from the rain… what’s the best way for me to move forward?  Of course, shuffle-sliding!!!  It all seems nice and logical in retrospect… but at the time, I was just trying to find a way to move forward faster than walking that didn’t hurt.  Ironically the rain that helped bring my downfall (being cold increases cramping) helped me get out of it.

I start makeshift skating on the slick road in my slick shoes.  I can tell it’s HUGELY inefficient… but I have so much energy, it doesn’t matter.  The most important thing is that I don’t even have to fully lift my legs off the ground.  (And everytime I try, they feel like they’re going to cramp).  But I’m going pretty fast.  I’m actually passing people!

I’m out of my gels, but I finally get to the much anticipated Cliff Shot station at mile 22.  I grab the first gel I see, a chocolate.  Ewwww, but I’m too focused to be choosy.

I am gorging myself on the gel and then stop to get more water and Gatorade at some aid station.  Oh man, I just have that feeling of stuffing myself with anything I can get ahold off.  Sloppily spilling the water and Gatorade all over me and that gel in the mix.  Whatever it takes to finish.

Some guy sees me struggling and encourages me to go on… I encourage him as well.  We run into each other another couple of times and exchange words of encouragement.

Time is ticking down to beat Sarah Palin’s 3:59:36 – something my co-workers Matt, Howard, and I set out to do. 

Finally I see a mile marker and realize that I have roughly 2 miles to go and roughly 20 minutes to do it. 

Shit, it’s within reach!!!  I am not meeting my personal goal of 3:45, but at least I can make this one. 

But this whole time I’ve been playing a game of chicken with myself – if I stop shuffle-sliding and actually try to run, it feels like my legs are on the verge of cramping and I can have a debilitating cramp at any time that will set me back another 10-20 minutes at least.

The hell with it, all or nothing baby!!!

And I run.  Awkwardly, heel-striking, but I’m running.  It feels terrible but I’m determined to make a good run for it and I push through.  My quads now feel extremely strained and like they’re about to cramp.  I ignore it.  I want to pee.  I ignore it.  Less than 2 miles left.  Just have to beat 4 hours. 

With a few minutes to go, I see the ocean.  YES!!! I made it.  From the map I remember that it’s another few blocks along the beach before the finish line.  “It’s just around the corner” fans are yelling.  

I turn the corner and my heart sinks.  Few minutes left and I can’t even see the finish line yet.  Those blocks are way longer than they look on the map!!

I know I’m not going to get sub-4 anymore, but I don’t slow down.  Seconds before the 4 hour mark, I see the orange finish banner appear out of the rain and fog, like an alluring mirage. 

The next 2.5 minutes stretch into a miserable eternity.  I attempt to raise my arms in triumph as I cross the finish line, but I feel so exhausted that my arms go up for a split second and the attempt fizzles out before I cross.  So my finishing pictures turn out pretty weak.

What do I feel after finish?

Relieved I don’t have to run anymore.  Freezing cold as the rain sets in.  Generally miserable.

Thankfully the race organizers are having people pass out emergency mylar blankets.  I get mine.  But it’s so windy, I can’t put it on.  The strong wind is blowing the cold rain right into me and I’m already drenched.  Pathetically I come up to a fan and ask for some help wrapping me in the blanket.  She obliges and I express my gratitude.

I am so stiff and shivering I can barely move.  The temperature is probably sub 60 and the rain plus wind make it a lot worse.  I slowly and painfully I start making my way towards our meet-up spot. 

“Are you OK?” some official looking lady asks me. 

“Just stiff and cold” I reply.

“There is a warming area at a hotel over there” and she shows me directions.

Wow… WARM??? What a concept!  I slowly make my way to the hotel.  It’s half a block off the main road and at this point I’m shivering a lot.

I don’t know what comes over me as I’m walking up to the hotel, but I feel like breaking down and bawling.  My eyes tear up.  The overwhelming feeling of misery – a combination of being drained, stiff, beat up, drenched, and shivering. 

I don’t remember the last time I cried from physical hardship.  I also don’t remember ever feeling so physically bad.  But I hold back the tears and limp my way into the hotel. 

And what do you know… they kindly volunteered one of their big fancy ballrooms for sorry chaps like me.  I was handed a blanket which I happily wrapped myself into instead of the flimsy mylar thing. 

The room is a sorry site.  Folks in various stages of misery.  Some wrapped in many layers of blankets laying on the floor, some shivering quietly on a chair, others drinking hot tea in shaking shivering hands. 

I sit down on a chair and the guy next to me strikes up a conversation.  He is out of his wet clothes and shoes, drinking hot tea, and seems to be in a much better stage of recovery.  It’s his marathon #16 or something like that.  He points to the hot teas and asks if I want one.  I say that I’ll get it later, but he insists on standing up and pouring one for me.

Awww, how sweet of him.  The hot tea certainly warms up my spirits.  I ask another guy if I could borrow his phone to text Sarah.  I was half-expecting to find her here… because she gets really cold and is good at finding warm places like this.  But she wasn’t.

I try to text her… but I’m too out of it to figure out how to send texts on the Blackberry and the guy doesn’t know how to do it.  So I call her instead, taking a few attempts to dial the correct number with my unsteady fingers.  She doesn’t pick up… awww… so I leave a message letting her know what’s going on with me.

I get up for another cup of tea, walk around a bit, and notice another chap in a sad state.  So I offer to bring him a cup, and the beam of gratitude on his face was the brightest thing I’ve seen all day. 

I’ve probably been here for at least 30 minutes already.  I feel bad for making everybody wait so long.  I wish I could call Matt or Howard, but I don’t have their phone numbers memorized, and my phone is in the checked belongings thing.  So I ask a firefighter to help wrap me up in my mylar thing – wow I’m so grateful to all the folks who helped me that day. 

I venture back out into the misery. 

One bad thing about how they designed the race is that we have to walk almost a mile from the finish line to the meetup area… and today it happens to be in the cold and rain.  I try to walk among people to shield from the wind, watching jealously as other runners reunite with their loved ones and waiting anxiously to reunite with mine.

Finally at the “Family Z” meet up spot… and nobody here. 

I look around and start walking around, and Sarah comes out of nowhere!  Yay!!!  Apparently she didn’t see Matt/Howard either and was waiting under a tent.

Sarah got a few seconds under 4 hours.  Go her!  And apparently she’s amazed that I was only 2.5 minutes behind.  She says I looked so pathetic when she left me that she thought there is no way I’m finishing in less than 4:30.  So I pat myself on the back for pulling it together.

The other thing the organizers should have done, seeing the weather, is set up WAY more tents and heat lamps in the finish area.  Alas, there were just a couple of tents and no heat lamps.  Poor Sarah has been there freezing waiting for us. 

I go find my stuff… In theory, getting your stuff checked to the finish line seemed like a great idea.  In practice… when I got there, I found a chaotic mess of storage Pods with people’s stuff, cardboard boxes with stuff soaked in the rain, and a few volunteers here and there trying to help the best they could.  And I’m talking about stuff from thousands of runners.  It's a mess.

Finding the pod with the range of numbers that included mine, I first look through all the soaked stuff outside.  Nothing for me.  I make my slowly way inside the pod, already crowded with 20 other desperate, shivering runners, and the two volunteers manning it did their best to find my stuff to no avail.  Dejected, I went back out into the rain and took one last look through the stuff strewn about outside.

And there it is!!!  My yellow sweatshirt showing through a bag buried deep under a soaked cardboard box and other bags. Good thing I packed my phone in a ziplock bag.

Sweet taste of Victory.

I hobble over to Sarah, and run into Kamalah, a college buddy and Sarah’s cross country teammate.  Putting on my dry warm sweater felt so nice.  Then I take out my phone, and finally make contact with Howard, our ride.  He was so cold when he finished that he and his girlfriend went to the car right away, not knowing where we are.

I’m glad I found my stuff with my phone.  Otherwise, I don’t know how we would have found each other since Sarah didn’t have either of their numbers. 

After some coordinating and wandering around the rainy streets of Santa Monica, Howard and Suz pick us up and the ordeal is over.

Sarah and I happily reject the idea of doing another run later this evening.  Something we considered and were told would be good training for the Wasatch, practicing running on tired legs.  Instead we had over to Galen’s for some R&R and then to my folks.

RECOVERY

The recovery was relatively easy.  The evening after the marathon, the only things that really hurt were my left knee and right hip.  As one of my yoga buddies pointed out, when I couldn’t use my legs, I started using the hips instead, in my shuff-sliding routine. 

The next day I was feeling pretty good, able to walk up and down stairs and do squats.  On Tuesday, my hamstrings finally hit.  I guess it takes 24-48 hours for muscle soreness to peak.  But that’s also not too bad.  Wednesday the hams still hurt a bit, and Thursday I’m generally OK.  I run for the first time again on Friday, and do a long run in Utah on Sunday without problems.

So this tells me I’m in really good shape!!! NICE :D

LESSONS LEARNED

1)     I’m tougher than I thought I was.  Never in my life have I been faced with this level of physical adversity, and I think I overcame it the best I could.  I pushed my hardest all the way to the end.  Definitely good training for the Wasatch where the mantra is to keep moving forward, no matter what.  If you can run some of it, and keep moving forward the rest of the time, then it would be pretty hard NOT to finish in the 36 hour time limit.  Of course “running some of it” (I’d say at least 50%) and continuing to move forward no matter what is easier said than done.

2)     DRINK WATER!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I’m used to my trusty Camelbak, not cups at aid stations.  I think that messed me up.  On my trail runs, I drink habitually every 5-10 minutes.  Also, I think the rain and wetness created an illusion that I wasn’t thirsty.  So very important lesson for the Wasatch is to continue drinking.

3)     Make sure everyone exchanges phone numbers.  Sarah’s not having Matt/Howard’s contact made the post-race logistics much more difficult.