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!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
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 :)
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 :)
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
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~~!
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~~!
Monday, June 27, 2011
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.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
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.
-- 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 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.
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 |
-- 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! |
-- 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
-- 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.
*************************
The thoughts below are what I wrote to Kristen, our ultra-mentor.
-- 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 |
-- 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.
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