Mt. Hood PCT 50

July 25th 2009... Somewhere along the Pacific Crest Trail

I have done this race several times in the past 4 years and this race was my very first Ultra back in 2005. But, the course was different this year due to the new Wilderness act keeping organized events off a short portion of the PCT which prevented us from going all the way up to Timberline Lodge. The new course went 14 miles out and back on the usual section, then did an 11 mile section on the Southern direction of the PCT from Timothy Lake. It was a fairly warm day and I took the early start to help avoid some early heat and to avoid always being at the back of the pack. My goal was to finish under 11 hours. My PR on the previous course is 10:48 so I felt this was doable.

I have worked out a new (genius) contrivance in my running/walking plan to substitute for fixed times of walk breaks. This also eliminates a great deal of plain hiking I typically do on steep uphill sections. Most of these up hills aren't really so steep you can't run them, but they are sufficiently steep and long that running them in their entirety over a 50 mile race (at elevation) is just too hard for me. So here's what I did: when it got steep, I would run for the count of 20 steps on my right foot, then walk 20 steps and alternate 20 run/20 walk all the way up the hill. I found all the uphill sections very doable this way and there was rarely a grade so sleep I couldn't manage it. I could hardly believe how wonderful this felt and how much time it saved me. Why didn't I think to try this before? It worked spectacularly!

My fueling, electrolyte and drinking schedule was dialed in and off I went. When it got hot I put on my ice bandanna and that helped me immensely in the heat. I did fall in the rocks once and got a huge bruise on my right hip from a pointy rock as well as my usual skinned knee, but nothing that affected my running.

I finished the first 28 mile out and back in 6 hours. The second out and back was new territory. There was a lot more climbing than the first section and being after 12 noon it was hotter and with less shade. There was a nice cold water creek I laid down in once and that cooled me off really well. I just kept plugging along with my 20 steps routine and was able to run nicely all the flats and down hills. I believe I kept up a pretty steady even pace all day.

At the last aid station the final mileage to the finish was posted as 4.5 miles (it was 4.1 miles in the pre-race information). I was 10:15 into the race and I figured, with the mostly downhill nature of the last section, I could easily come in under 11 hours! So off I ran. I ran hard and did not let up. I got passed by a couple at one point but later they couldn't sustain that pace and I passed them again. Later we estimated we were going about 8:30 min miles. Of course this is downhill so that helps with the speed, but I was really pushing hard to get in under my time limit. 45 minutes later I knew I was still over a mile from the finish. How could that be? Well, obviously, as we all agreed later, that section of the course was really several miles longer than advertised. In the end I knew I wouldn't get in under 11 hours but I wanted to push it as hard as I could anyway so I did and finished in 11:05.

So....it was a harder course this year and probably 4 miles longer than the 50 miles it was suppose to be (so the price per mile was a real bargain!). I feel like I had an excellent result. I finished ahead of my usual competitors and came in 4th out of 13 in my age group! After the race was over I felt so good that I was able to eat a big Garden Burger. On the way home I stopped for a big ice cream cone, too. Usually I feel unable to eat for several hours. By the next day I had trouble remembering I had just run that 50 (+) miler because my legs felt so good. I recovered in record time! I believe the recent elevation work was helpful, and the run/walk cycle worked very well for me. I am very excited to tackle Waldo next month and kick it's ass!

Photos: http://www.backprint.com/view_user_event.asp?PID=bp%1ExNv&EVENTID=55884&BIB=80&S=230&PWD=

Results: http://www.pctultra.com/index50.htm

Memorial Day Weekend "Running Camp"

Two years ago I participated in the Western States Memorial Day Weekend running camp that covered 70 miles of the Western States trail over 3 day of running. I did this for personal training purposes but also because I planned to pace a friend at the race and I wanted familiarity with the trail. It was a grueling event and the longest back to back runs I had ever done to that point. After the first 30 mile day in the canyons I wasn't sure how I'd manage to run 20 miles down to the river on day two, never mind the 20 mile section from Green Gate to Auburn the next day! But, lo and behold, I actually managed to put one foot in front of the other on day two and then again was able to get and stay moving on day three. It was a great accomplishment.

This year I wanted to do the same thing but decided to save myself the LONG drive down to that part of California and instead headed to Humboldt County where my sister,Karen, lives. We would together build our own running camp on trails through the redwood forests. It was a grand success.

On day number one I did close to 30 miles on day #1 and about 7K climbing. It was a beautiful mountain bike trail in the King Range on which I ran two loops. Karen's friend and coach Bill and her dog ran with me the first time around and Karen ran with me the second.

We had some great views of the ocean from top of the ridges. There was a fair amount of shade and lots of wild flowers. Most of the climbing was gradual enough that it was runnable and the downhill sections were a lot of fun. We ran into a collection of mountain bikers and played leap frog with them along the trail. At one point they stopped to photograph each other going over some jumps in the trail and graciously let us run through. We took the jumps too and got our photos taken as well!

I have a new ultra food I'm fond of now: Turkey and cheese sandwich with avocado. Yum, yum. It was fairly warm (mid 70s by the end of the day) and sunny but most of the trail was shaded by oak and fir trees. We crossed the Bear Creek twice (shin deep) and actually laid down in it on the last crossing of the second trip for cooling purposes. The trail ran along ridges, down to the creek, back up to the ridge then back down to the creek then back up to the ridge. It wasn't usually too steep and most of the uphill was runnable. On the second loop I found my ice bandanna very refreshing. It was a great day!

Day #2 we did in the Redwood State Park on the Lost Man Creek Trail. This is essentially a 10 mile out then back on an old logging road that started at about 200 feet and climbed (relentlessly) up to about 2300 feet, when we turned around and went back.


The return trip was a lot more fun! It was beautiful, that's for sure, but cooler and mostly foggy, just like the pictures.

Karen and Bill both ran with me that day but we split up for some of it. Karen turned back a few miles short and Bill ran ahead to catch up with her and I caught up with them a mile from the end. It was fun, retrospectively, but the climbing for the first half was not so much fun as it entailed lots of walking/hiking. I found that frustrating. We were also on a bit of a time crunch to get back for a memorial service for Karen's friend who died last year, but we made it in plenty of time.

On day #3 Karen and I set out together to run the Skunk Cabbage Trail, Coastal Trail and eventually part of the Ossagon trail for another 10 mile out then back in the redwood state park (can't find a good link). We ended up doing about 5 miles on the beach (4 miles on the outward journey and 1 on the return after we found the paralleling dirt road). The Skunk Cabbage part is like my local Fort to the Sea trail at Fort Clatsop National Park, but with more roots from the Sitka Spruce.




















It ends at the beach then connects to the Coastal trail and Ossagon which, after the beach, is on flat prairie areas next to bluffs near the beach.























It was very pretty and the weather was perfect - started overcast then got sunny but never too warm. We finished the whole thing together except the last few miles and Karen was less than 5 minutes behind me.

I was really proud of her for doing her 15/17.5/20 combo! She's never done back-to-backs that lengthy.

At this point I feel just fine and don't feel tired and my legs don't hurt. It's amazing the amount of endurance I've developed. I felt good every day and never got worn out. The spectacular scenery really helped, I'm sure. And the company, no doubt.

MacDonald Forest 50K - Corvallis, Oregon May 9th 2009

Well, it was a great day for running and there's nothing like the views of Oregon forests from up high. Getting up there is the fun part. We've had some rain lately but it didn't really effect the trail much except in a few spots. Race day was clear and sunny and not too warm. It was short sleeves and shorts weather for sure!

I met my sister before the race and we stayed in an Albany hotel pre and post race. She took the early start so it gave me time to meet up with friends Glen, Jerry, and Clay. I also managed to met up with Steve from New Hampshire who is a friend of a mutual online acquaintance. This was Steve's 2nd 50K and he was admonished to "not start out too fast!" Well, being the queen of slow is helpful in such situations so Glen and I buddied up with Steve to give him a good start.

Being the good sponge he is, Steve listened to all our advice throughout the day and played along nicely. He did get a big blister that we had to dress up for him but it didn't actually stop getting worse until he changed his shoes. He stayed with us at the and we made sure he drank enough (that man can sweat!) and took salt and ate, and blah, blah, blah listened to everything we had to say about trail running.

There's a lot more up and down in this course than I remembered, especially in the section between the second aid station and the Dimple Hill aid station. It must be trial amnesia, akin to child birth amnesia. But we made it there all together and Steve was feeling good enough to trot on ahead of us. We had some nice downhill and were moving good but before the next aid station I started to get some GI problems. I was glad to finally hit the port-o-potty at Chip Ross Park and I hoped that would be the end of my small distress.

Unfortunately I still had lots of cramping (not usual for me) and some bouts of nausea that slowed me down so Glen and Steve (who we caught up with again) climbed on ahead of me to the last aid station. When I got there myself I found Karen sitting in a chair at the aid station nursing a bleeding knee, mud covered up to both thighs and with a spectacular falling story. Luckily she was good to go and got up and finished the rest of her race from there.

I left the aid station feeling a bit better and determined to finish this race. No more walking runnable sections! So I ran up the gravel road the whole way until it started back down. As usually happens to me in my races, I was able to pull off a fairly speedy last section. I passed a lot of people between the last aid station and the finish but one runner came up behind me and gave chase, even as I thought I had pulled away from everyone. STEVE! He and I flew down the gravel road and onto the last single track and sprinted in to the finish, sore quads be damned!



I took off over 5 minutes from my time 2 years ago and was very pleased with my performance. But...the GI stuff came back not long after finishing and I spent the better part of the next few hours in the hotel barfing, etc. (you can use your imagination here, or just ...don't). Eventually we went out to get some dinner and I kept down a small meal. By breakfast time I was hungry and my GI system is getting back to normal in general. I think this was more about something I ate pre-race than anything I did during the race.

Well, that's it! In two weeks I'm going to create my own Western States training camp weekend by running along various trails in the redwood forests of Northern California with my sister and her friends. Hope my sore quads are healed up by then!

Headlands Hundred

It Takes a Village or
How to Run 100 Miles Over Trail in Less Time Than it Takes to Paint a House.

Well, I was finally ready to do this thing. I thought about training for it last year but wisely decided to wait for my first 100 mile trail ultra attempt. I crammed a lot more training and ultras in the 12 months leading up to this race. I was optimistic. My time had been spent wisely in short fast runs, long slow runs, races and hiking. How could I not be ready? As the days ticked off closer and closer to the big event, I had no butterflies. I enjoyed the planning, the travel, the get together with crew members and the strategy sessions. Before I knew it the last long run was done, the last short run was completed and we were standing in front of a woefully dumpy motel waiting for my pacer, Russ, to arrive. The picture on the Internet didn't look this bad...but, at least it was clean. We did a crew tour of the aid station locations, had a pasta dinner, went window shopping in Mill Valley, did foot taping and then went to bed.

My crew consisted of my sister Karen, new to the ultra scene herself but already deep into it's passion and her running buddy Leslie who had introduced us all to my pacer Russ when she bumped into him while finishing her first 50K. Completing the entourage was my husband, Rodney who has always been my greatest supporter. Even though he likes to describe my ultra running with adjectives like "crazy" and "fringe" he never disses my accomplishments. He's my biggest fan.

Finishing was my big goal. Finishing faster than DFL would be fine, but I'd be glad just to finish. Period. I had decided on this race because it was the best compromise of the various aspects of a 100 miler that I thought would allow me to finish. I wanted a course that 1) wasn't at elevation, 2) wasn't in really hot or humid weather and 3) didn't have repeating loops. Two out of three was good enough, so there I was in my red shorts listening to race director Wendell give out last minute instructions in the cool, fog shrouded parking lot.

My strategy was to run conservatively right out of the box. If I was anything, I was slow but steady. I was banking on steady to get me through. I really didn't want to experience the last 20 mile death march I've frequently read about. I wanted to be running as much and as well at the end as I was at the beginning.

The course meanders around the Marin Headlands north of San Francisco so close to the city that you can see the Golden Gate Bridge from some of the vistas. Between each aid station the route goes up and over a series of hills, some multiple, some single, some gradual and some very steep. But regardless, once you leave any aid station you know you'll be traveling UP for a while and before you get to the next one you'll be going DOWN again. Overall there was 17,700 feet of elevation gain and loss for the 100.5 mile course.

Since the weather was cool and foggy the hills were shrouded and a lot of the trail route was obscured from view. Maybe what you can't see isn't such a bad thing. Although the spectacular views were missing at this point, so was the sense of dread that can develop when the trail can be viewed stretching up, up, up and far, far away. It's funny how if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, you eventually get there. The cool temperatures were a God send to me. I was hoping to avoid a lot of heat for which I am not well trained.

After the starting signal the mass of runners hit the road and took off over a foot bridge onto the beach for a short crawl to the first trail and we stretched into a long train of running machine that threaded up the trail up off into the fog as far as visibility would allow. I picked a conservative pace that allowed me to breathe comfortably. I walked when it got steep, and ran when it wasn't and I followed the train of runners ahead of me. Soon we found ourselves on a road that wound higher up the hillside and I made sure to cut the tangents where ever possible. I didn't want to add a single foot of mileage to my run if I didn't have to.

After 37 minutes I finally hit the trail again and we kept going up mostly, occasionally down a bit. Eventually the train pulled me up and over what appeared to be a ridge. To the right I could hear traffic noises but all I could see was fog. Eventually we crossed what must have been a small pass between the hills because the wind kicked up pretty hard and it was quite chilling. Quickly we started heading down again and after a long gentle and pleasant trail run winding down, down, down we popped out at the first aid station. We had climbed and dropped just over 1000 feet. And look, there was RD, Sarah who always seems to know every one's name. She manages to give individualized attention to every runner and her attentions always made me feel special. Months before the race she solicited on an ultra running forum for suggestions about aid station foods and based on my suggestion she actually went out of her way to confirm for me that she would have my beloved Frito chips there! She's a gem.

As was to be repeated over and over throughout the day, night and next day my crew immediately spotted me, cheered me in and then went to work. They grabbed my water bottle and switched it out for a fresh one. They fed me, refilled my food bag and in less than 2 minutes I was on my way again up the requisite climb out of the aid station.

The next section towards Tennessee Valley was steeper up and down but a shorter 500 foot climb and I actually hit the aid station while my crew was still getting stuff out of the car. And there was Sarah again, greeting me. I stopped by the aid station table for food and then got fresh water bottles from my startled crew. I was still feeling great and enjoying the cool foggy trail. There's not much I find more enjoyable than a pleasant, slow jog along a pretty trail away from traffic and alone with my thoughts. Again, within a few minutes I was back on the trail.

I continued to run conservatively, maintaining good posture and form when power hiking the steep parts and running with a smile on my face when the trail was runnable. Eventually we hit the famed section of steep trail leading down to the Pirates Cove stairs. This is a very technical section that's difficult to run down. I actually looked forward to completing this section again in the uphill direction the next 4 times. The trail was still shrouded in fog but before long we were on a long gradual downhill that dumped us off at the Muir Beach aid station back down at sea level. Again we had climbed and dropped about another 1000 feet. Karen and Leslie were there again waiting for me and checking on my condition. So far I was still feeling pretty good and was eager to get to the next and biggest climb of the day (1400 feet in 5 miles).

I left them and I could tell the day was starting to heat up as the fog cleared. I might have been well off to add my ice hat as well as my ice to my bandanna but the bandanna was a great benefit to my cooling anyway. I did remember to take an extra hand-held bottle. Oh well, making adjustments to my pace for the temperature I meandered up the initially gradual trail to the steep hiking route up to Pantoll aid station.

This was indeed a steep climbing section but I enjoyed how we wound in and out of small forested areas. I passed a few hikers. I tried to stay in the shaded areas as much as possible. Before I knew it, I was dropping down a short steep trail into the Pantoll aid station where my crew had a chair, complete with sun umbrella, set up and waiting for me. I got a good dosing of water on my head, more ice in my bandanna and a change into my ice hat. As it warmed up I wasn't feeling as hungry and I tried to each a chicken sandwich but it felt so dry in my mouth I could hardly swallow it. I was drinking well and concentrated on staying hydrated. I didn't feel much in the way of exhaustion. I felt like I was managing my pace well and was looking forward to the next section of much less elevation change and even though the run was on an exposed ridge that promised to be hot, there was a nice breeze and now that the fog was gone there was a beautiful view of the hills and the blue Pacific Ocean down below.

I was kept much cooler by the ice I carried with me on my head and around my neck. As I made my way along the ridge I started to encounter runners returning from this out and back section and as usual, everyone was encouraging and pleasant. "Nice job!" "Strong work!" At one point we passed a very old rusted car that appeared to have crashed here upside down from some far away drop-off many long years ago. The trail actually detoured around the heap so we got a good look. I didn't see any exposed, weathered bones, but I'll admit I did look.

An hour and forty minutes after I left Pantoll I came into the Bolinas Ridge aid station through a wall of soap bubbles being blown across the trail by two crazy, hollering women. Wait, that's my crew! Well, they sure seemed to be having a great time playing to the crowd. I wondered when they would be breaking out the banjos and grass skirts. It felt good to sit down and take the time to cool off in the shade. I got another dosing of water on my head and fresh ice in my hat and bandanna. I tried to eat some more but a cold Coke went down the best. Ah yes, I remember now how good a cold Coke feels on a hot run! Let's keep those coming! More food to-go and back out on the trail I went. It was getting hotter but I just slowed down a bit and didn't let myself get too over worked. My heart rate wasn't soaring and the return only took me 10 minutes longer than before.

Back at Pantoll I detoured to the bathroom. How convenient that every time I needed one, there it was waiting for me! Also waiting for me was my crew. I don't know how anyone could miss them...now they were wearing neon pink felt top hats and ties! And somehow they had collected 3 bulldogs under the shade of the sun umbrellas. We all sat together, the dogs and I, sweating in our respective fashion as I got replenished. At 3:30 pm I was an hour ahead of the cut off, the first time I would be able to gauge my pace for adequate progress. I had a buffer but I was aware that if something went wrong it could get uncomfortably close. But, so far so good and my conservative strategy seemed to be treating me well and I was still having fun!

This next section would be markedly more downhill than up, dropping almost 1500 feet and I was looking forward to it and the cooling off of the day. Now that the fog was long gone I could see the trail and occasionally spotted runners winding up and down and around trails way off into the distance. It's always amazed me at how far away distances look when you can see them stretched out before you. I mostly run in the forest and I can only see up to the next curve in the trail. On these hills where there is only low vegetation, the trail stretches like a never ending ribbon. "It must take hours to get way over there!" I'd tell myself, but actually it's never really that bad. 15 minutes later I'm looking back and see way off in the distance where I just was. I think that running these sections in the fog or the dark are a lot easier for me because the time just passes and the anticipation of where I see I need to be headed is eliminated.

Regardless, the trail was essentially headed downhill and once I got the the bottom I still felt good, even though my toes were feeling a bit pinched in my shoes on the switch backs. Right before I hit a short section of road back to the aid station I saw a man throwing a ball for his German Shepard in a park I traversed. "Is there some kind of race going on?" he inquired. You can guess the rest of the conversation, complete with jaw drop.

Back to Muir Beach aid station and the crew took back my ice hat and returned my visor. I could eat more and keep that cola coming! The pink-hatted ladies got me my fresh water bottle and 3 minutes later I was climbing back out and up and over the next set of hills toward Tennessee Valley. This route takes me up the Pirates cove stairs and I was happy. I have a good technique for stair climbing that I find actually rests my legs so I finished the climb feeling good. The return to Tennessee Valley only took me 10 minutes longer than when I came out that way in the morning.

Things were starting to look familiar on the trail. I recalled the trail surface, where it was wide fire road, where it was single track. I didn't always remember the route exactly because the last time I came through these parts is was so foggy. I was grateful for the trail markings but sometimes there seemed to be long gaps between flagging but I could usually see someone off in the distance to indicate that I was still on the right route and I only occasionally worried I was off course somehow.

After a quick stop in Tennessee Valley I was off onto the last stretch of unknown trail. After the next four miles I would have covered 50 miles and all of the trail sections that would make up the next two loops of the race. There is a certain advantage to knowing what to expect. There can also be some disadvantage depending on how you feel about it. So far all the ups and downs of the day were, in my mind, doable. But I realized that as time wore on, I might find them more and more of a challenge. Oh well, "let's just concentrate on the task at hand and worry about the next section when we get to it and not before" I told myself. This final 4 miles to the Start/Finish area was, as I dubbed it, "diabolical." The ups were more so – the kind of steep that requires me to walk sideways to keep from hyper-flexing my ankles. This seems...challenging to put at this part of the course right before we get to the 50 mile, 75 mile and 100 mile mark. Hmmm....I wonder how this will play out later? And look, I can see way over there where I have to go next. It sure looks longer than 4 miles.

I eventually stopped the unhelpful chatter in my head and just concentrated on hiking. I crested a hill and the trail markings indicated that luckily I dive off the crest to the left and after several miles of steep trail downward I was on some stairs, then through an old historic battery or two then down more paved switch backs and I could see the aid station tent in the near distance.

My toes were really starting to bother me a lot on the downhills. They were getting sore but didn't feel blistered. It started to feel like a struggle to go downhill, especially when it got really steep. But, no time to linger on that, right before I got to the parking lot I hear Russ, my pacer for later that night, hooting and hollering at me as I crossed the halfway mark. The whole crew was there including Rodney. 50 miles to go and I was now one hour and 25 minutes ahead of the cut off.

It was still light out and it was here that I would get to start running with my sister as pacer for a while and I was looking forward to the company. I hoped that she wouldn't be too tired from her long day of crewing. I stuffed my face with a "slim fast" type drink and a few bites of chili and then I saw it...cake. It was the best piece of white cake I'd ever eaten. I really wanted to eat the pizza but didn't have room and was fast losing the stomach for it. I had a slice hopefully stuffed into a plastic baggie then Karen and I took off up the beach and to the trail.

My stomach wasn't feeling very good and this slowed me down. My legs still felt great but thank goodness Karen was with me to help distract me from my ever increasing foot soreness and overall touchy stomach. Regardless, we powered up the hills and I followed dutifully as she led me along the proper route. She kept up a steady stream of conversation, filling me in on what happened throughout the day and in general was upbeat and perky. Eventually we had to turn on our headlamps and the going got slower.

It's probably not a profound observation that it's harder to see in the dark but the degree to which headlamps and flashlights illuminate the trail just isn't the same as regular sunlight, I don't care how bright they are. It's harder to find your way down technical trail. You can't plan a line of sight and it's difficult to judge if the rocks are solidly embedded or just rubble on top of the trail. I suppose that the slower going in the night helped me to conserve for the return of daylight and the many hours I would still have to run later. But, I ran less than the first time I did this section and it took me about an hour longer! Good thing I was already ahead of the cut off. I hoped that I would be able to keep ahead.

When we got to the next aid station I was ready to refuel, but much to my dismay the pizza never did sound like as good of an idea as I had originally hoped and I discarded it with only 2 bites missing. That's when I discovered the power of bananas. Coke and bananas became my staple and I was starting to feel better. Not long after heading back out on the trail we heard a pack of coyotes howling to call each other together for the nightly hunt. It could have seemed eerie but I didn't automatically assume they were gunning to come eat me. Maybe I should have because I'm sure I smelled like I was half dead and would be easy pickings!

It seemed like in no time we were up and over then next hill and ended up back at the Tennessee Valley aid station where I was to pick up my next pacer, Russ. It was also time to check on my feet and change shoes. We opened up and dressed a blister and put on the fresh shoes. The first steps after that reminded me that I had a fresh blister but after about 100 yards it quit hurting and Russ and I trotted off into the night toward the next big climb. My toes were still pretty unhappy, though.

It was starting to cool off and get foggy again. The glow sticks were easy to spot and now that I couldn't see the trail in front of me I didn't have any problem just putting one foot in front of the other. We carried on a nice conversation as we went and I marveled, more often than necessary, that I was now running farther than I ever had before. We didn't run into any killer baboons and I filled Russ in on our "encounter" with the coyotes. The baboon thing was a running joke in the group since Karen had tried to convince us the night before that there really was a movie about killer baboons. Not only did the Internet confirm she was right, it also confirmed that the movie was based on a true story. Yikes! One time we each stopped to "water the bushes" and lost track of each other in the dark. Good thing we didn't get attacked by killer baboons while we were separated!

Having a handler to talk to and share the trail with is such a wonderful experience. Time passes so much more quickly and it was hard to get into deep dark places in my mind when I was busy cutting up about something stupid, like killer baboons. Russ always seemed to have the knack of knowing how much to talk, when to stop, what topics to bring up and when to laugh at my jokes. His presence helped calm my fears that I might get lost out in the dark alone and waste a lot of time that I couldn't afford to waste. And besides, it's just nice not to have to be out in the dark...alone. We could just relax and enjoy running with the stars above.

75 minutes after we left Tennessee Valley we arrived at Muir beach and into the hands of the aid station volunteers who were so awesome that they had fresh strawberries waiting for us! We had given our crew permission to skip this aid station so they could get some rest. The aid station volunteers let me sit on a soft upholstered bench removed from their van and wrapped me in a sleeping bag so I wouldn't get cold while I ate some soup. After a few minutes of respite we moved on and back to the climb out of the aid station and soon enough we were at the Pirates Cove stairs.

Go ahead an shoot me, but I like the stairs. And it was fun to give Russ the tour of the course and tell him what to expect next. After the stairs we headed back into the fog and it got harder and harder to see through the glare my head lamp made reflecting off the fog. Finally I pulled it off my head lamp and held it in my hand. Eventually the fog lifted and we could see again. Then I noticed that there were lots of stars above again and when we looked behind us all we could see was a blanket of fog below. We had actually gone up the hill high enough to pop out on top of the fog! And we saw a shooting star! In the dark it's harder to sense the pitch of the hill so running or walking by feel in the dark was only a big challenge on the rocky, downhill technical sections.

There was a big section of this right as we headed back down into the fog layer. I remembered that there was a newly constructed switchback detour coming up and right after that the trail was flat and pleasant as it ran through a eucalyptus forest for the last half mile before the Tennessee Valley aid station. Of course, just as I finished hopping gingerly over the last difficult section and had soft firm trail under my feet I tripped on nothing and landed on my face in the dirt. Once the shock wore off it felt pretty good to be laying there and briefly I contemplated just staying right where I was for a while. But, cut-offs being immutable as they are, I thought better of it and with a hand up from my trusty pacer, Russ, I was on my feet again. We headed back down the trail none the worse for falling other than me being a lot dirtier and with a scraped knee.

Back at the aid station we refueled with more Coke and bananas and I braced Russ for what I knew was the "diabolical" nature of the final 4 miles back to the start/finish area. Funny thing though, with Russ by my side sharing the trail we soon found ourselves at the top far quicker that I thought we would and next thing I knew we were running through the creepy dark bunkers towards the start/finish. We even covered this section a few minutes faster than I had done alone the last time around. Despite my sore toes we trotted briskly into the aid station and clocked in at 3:55 am, 2 hours and 25 minutes ahead of the cut off. 75 miles down, 25 to go.

Maybe it was here I ate the cake or the pizza? I really can't remember now. The loop nature of the course lends itself to fuzzy recollections, especially in the wee hours of the morning. I was glad I had Russ there to keep me on the right track. Luckily at the time I wasn't feeling particularly sleepy. Karen and Leslie were still in great form, wide awake and encouraging as always. They never seemed to get tired! I downed some more Coke to ensure my continued alertness and we were headed out towards the beach for the last time.

Once again this 8.6 mile section proved to be a difficult patch for me. We headed up the road and I kept having trouble confirming the proper route. Even though I had been in this area several times before, I just didn't really remember which way we should go when the trail markings became confusing. Eventually we hit a three way intersection and neither of us was sure which way to go. Russ told me to wait behind and took off to check out one route. I walked briefly in the other direction to confirm it didn't really go anywhere and then sat down to rest. Thankfully Russ was willing to run recon on that one. Too bad we still didn't know what to do when he got back! Oh well, lets go this way and I pointed to what seemed the most likely route and eventually we saw a glow stick in the distance. High Five! Luckily we were back on track, after not having been off track at all, and soon we were on trail and climbing.

My stomach just didn't like this section again. I noticed that my heart rate was pretty fast and it suddenly occurred to me that it might be all the caffeine I'd consumed by drinking the Coke all day and night. I rarely use caffeine "in real life" as it tends to cause me palpitations and generally makes me feel crappy. Well this was something I could fix and I was optimistic that, given a little more time I would feel better just as soon as the caffeine wore off. Soon the hint of dawn began to appear in the East and we could start to see some runners way ahead of us up the trail. I didn't feel as horrible as I have at some shorter ultras but I certainly wasn't feeling my usual self and with each step my feet grew more and more sore. I was really trudging, now grateful I had so much time on the cut off. My toes were killing me and I reduced my speed with every step but even that didn't feel better. Step ouch, step ouch, step OUCH!

It was then that Russ, the most wonderful pacer in the world, made a shocking and totally unexpected suggestion. "Why don't we try running for 30 seconds?" Well, that sounded like novel idea and I was willing to try it. After the second step my feet miraculously quit hurting and the running was invigorating and the more I ran the better I felt! I saw the runners ahead of us and we were closing the gap. I ran a bit harder and even though it was uphill this was much easier on my battered toes than walking and I felt like I was dropping all the evil humors that had hobbled me those last few miles. We easily trotted past the other runners, bid them a good morning and shortly were headed back down the trail and into the dawn. The headlamps went off and the nighttime monsters withered in the daylight.

As we approached the next aid station my stomach told me I could eat again. We began to discuss what sort of breakfast foods would taste really good. I decided pancakes would really hit the spot. Just then we saw Karen ahead waiting for us to take the last turn to the aid station and she shouted up to us "What can I get you?" "Pancakes!!" we replied. "Blueberry or raspberry?" she asked. OMG. Where there really blueberry pancakes? Alas, turns out, no. Just bananas and the usual fare. But it was good enough for us and I was only a little disappointed. My stomach probably was happier with the bananas and Fritos anyway. Besides, the runners we had just passed were coming into the aid station and we needed to keep ahead of them! I don't think the supposed competition was really more than a contrived motivation factor to keep us moving but we spun all sorts of imagined rivalry that mandated we keep as far ahead of this pair as possible.

We powered up and out to the Tennessee Valley again. Up, up, up, then as we're starting down we get to an ambiguous turn. I know I've been here, what, twice before (?) but that didn't jog my memory. I felt helpless to decide which was the right way to go. Luckily the best pacer in the world told me to wait there while he ran up ahead to confirm that the big hill wasn't the direction we had to go. We finally found some runners coming towards us and they helped us confirm the correct route. Hurry, hurry, the "rivals" might catch us! We cruised into the Tennessee Valley aid station again and they had pancakes!

Well, now we were at 87 miles and it was time to get back up and over the next hill to Muir Beach. We climbed again and then fairly sprinted down to Muir Beach and Russ could see the trail and views in the day light for the first time. I could taste the strawberries already and soon enough there we were, stuffing our faces, single digit miles left until the end of the run. They gave me a place to sit for a few minutes and filled our bottles for us. We saw the "rivals" coming into the aid station and that was out que to split!

We left and retraced our steps back up the hills towards the Pirates Cove steps. Eventually there we were at the bottom of them and sooner still, up at the top. Now that we were less than 10 miles from the finish there didn't seem to be any reason to conserve energy so I cautiously started pushing harder. Once we got to the top of this section we had the tough technical downhill section that my toes hated so much. I found out that if I strided out longer and ran harder the alteration in my step hurt a lot less. So despite the nearly 95 miles on my legs I was running faster.

We started to do ultra math and calculated not whether I would make the final cut off, but what time I might be able to finish. It looked possible I could break 29 hours! Really? Really! Holy crap lets get moving! We leaped over a snake stretched out across the trail and it didn't occur to me until after we were over it that it could have been a rattle snake. Luckily, not. Now that we could see the technical trails they were much easier to traverse and then there we were at "blood alley," the site of my previous fall. No fall this time and knowing we were within earshot of the aid station we cruised towards it as we calculated our strategy. No standing around. Grab something quick and keep moving. We need to stay ahead of the"rivals" and try to break 29 hours!

The crew looked at us suspiciously, like we may have actually become insane after all those hours on the trail. Shouldn't we be looking bedraggled? Hell no! – out of the way, we have 4 measly miles to cover and we'll see you at the finish! Hope you can get there in time not to miss us!

The uphill section this third time seemed shorter still and I nearly cried tears of joy when I saw the left hand turn that indicated we were heading down to the aid station. No reason now hold a thing back, so we tore down the trail with as much energy as I could muster. I actually didn't feel like it was a strain. I don't know why, but it honestly felt like the pleasant end to short run at home.

One of the fun aspects of this course is how long you can see the finish before you get to it. Maybe that's disheartening to some but for me it was joyful. It gave me the time to reflect on the whole of this event and I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. I wasn't crawling in half dead, I wasn't behind the cut off, I had a new best friend at my side and a nurturing crew awaiting our arrival. I wanted to soak it all in and not forget to appreciate the experience, every good and bad moment, every ache and pain as well as legs feeling fresh. I could hardly believe that this odyssey would soon be over and I plowed ahead to meet it's ending with ever increasing energy.

After we dropped off the switchback road and onto the parking area the final cones directed us to the finish line. Just as I could see the timing clock turn to 28:40:00 I grabbed Russ' hand and together we crossed over from a state of joyous striving to joyfully accomplished. There was nothing left to do now but give and receive hugs and share the love of family and friends who were once new, now old.

Some purists feel that the experience of finishing a 100 miler is more nobly done without help - no crew, no pacer and even no drop bags. I can appreciate the sense of self satisfaction that must come from such an accomplishment and to those who prefer this for themselves, I applaud them. However, in the grand scheme of things, our community of ultra runners, their friends and families may be small but we're an involved and supportive group. There are always some "co-dependent enablers" (as Rodney likes to put it) who relish the opportunity to help out and share the experience. Sure, I could try to do this all alone, but then, why? Although this may be considered an individual accomplishment, it is far from an solo endeavor. Without the help I received from everyone, from the RDs to the many volunteers, my crew and pacer, Russ, I would never have had the opportunity to experience the satisfaction of running 100 miles. But it's more than that. I have been enveloped in the arms of this wonderful community, been hugged and hugged back.

My endless thanks again to Karen, Leslie, Rodney and Russ as well as to Sarah, Wendell and the many volunteers and fans who made this fringe, crazy and altogether satisfying event possible for me.

LESLIE'S SLIDE SHOW
Detailed photos of entire trail - Thanks "runnign4fun"!

20th Century 100K

I made sure to start out conservatively, but not wimpy. After the first mile I was DFL and stayed that way for almost the whole day. I looked at the others as they passed me and checked off a few saying to myself "I'll see you later, and you and you." My first and second 10K were done in about an hour each. The first 25 miles were all up hill varying increasingly from 1-3% grade, which isn't really a big deal but felt pretty relentless by the time we finally turned around and headed back down. I had my usual low spot from about mile 20-30. I wish I knew why that happens because it's pretty miserable. My legs ached, my feet hurt I got side stitches.

As the day wore on I just kept plugging away. After my first hour I did the 20:2 run:walk ratio through until the last hour. At about the 50 mile mark I was feeling better and better. I even started getting in AT pace range. By the time I was about 2/3 done I figured I could finish in under 12:30 if I kept it up. By the time I got through the last aid station with 7.7 miles to go I passed 5 of those people I had counted on seeing again. Two of them were a pair of women who were walking together. They caught up with me right after I passed them and we kept pace together, almost imperceptibly accelerating as we went. We were going at about 8:30 miles and they were really giving me a run for my money. I decided to see if I was pushing them or they were pushing me, so I slowed down and sped up occasionally to see if they would follow suit. They stayed right with me. I asked them what kind of walk:run sequence they were following and they said they were just playing it "by feel". I told them I wasn't interested in beating anyone but the clock and I wanted to finish in under 12:30. Further, my walk breaks came every 20 minutes, for 2 minutes. One woman huffed that it didn't seem like enough of a break but I assured her it was working for me. Have you done that for the whole race? I sure have, after the first hour. I warned them that I'd see them later because my walk time was coming up. As soon as my watch beeped and I stopped to walk they slammed on the breaks and we walked together. I think I really beat the life out of them with that fast stretch of 20 minutes. I took off again after my 2 minutes were up and they stayed behind.

I flew the last 10K feeling very, very good. OK, I was tired but I still had a good time and felt like I could push it hard. Unfortunately at one point I became unsure of the route and backtracked trying to decide which way to turn at an obscure intersection. I got in about an extra half mile and lost about 5 minutes. I waited for the 2 women to catch up and we confired about the likely route. I took off again and luckily we guessed right. I continued stronger and stronger on to the finish. After I pulled ahead again I didn't see them until they crossed the finish line about 20 minutes after me. Right at the end there was a pleasant single track next to a river then up a suspension bridge over the river and down to the finish line. I was pleased with the 12:23. I ate some food (forced myself) and went to bed very achy. I finally took some Ibuprofen and was able to sleep, more or less.

Capitol Peak 50 mile

This is the first time I have taken advantage of its close location and participated in this run. What a fine choice to add it to my running list this year. The trail is a fun combination of single track and hills through forest and recent clear cut. Despite the somewhat desolate feel of the clear cuts they do afford the best views, such as the sunrise I witnessed during our first hour on the trail. It was a breathtaking neon pink and purple display of the Puget Sound area with Mt. Rainier to the right and a huge full moon rising on the right. It was so indescribably beautiful I stopped on the trail a few moments to take it all in.

I got in a day early and met up with my friend Heidi for a car camping weekend. She was is training for a 50 miler of her own in June and did a 50K worth of hiking whilst I was running the race. She was able to meet up with me at a number of the aid stations and provided much needed encouragement and support.

I took the early start and followed a particular fellow for the first few miles. Eventually I was passed by a number of the front runners doing both the 50K and 50 mile run. The big climb up to Capitol Peak comes at about 20 miles and the view was worth the elevation gain. There were a few sections of snow pack to trudge through but the remainder of the road up and back down the peak were clear. However, the next section between aid stations was a nearly un-runnable collection of long deep snow fields that took far more energy to cross than I had hoped. Even the few open trail sections were covered with so much debris, they weren't really very runnable either. After over an hour of that we went on a much more pleasant out and back section. It got lonelier and lonelier out there as the 50K runners were spared this section.

Finally I made it back to the last aid station and was happy to hear that the final 10K was a gentle downhill meander back to the finish. About a mile in a took a big spill and landed right hip square on a large pointy rock which left me yowling in pain, much to the dismay of a fellow runner who was clicking a photo near by right as I fell. I knew I would be fine but needed to wail for a while so I assured him he was free to go and leave me in my misery. I got up and started running again, but it must have been the adrenaline from the fall because soon I was cruising along at quite a clip. I was able to keep this up most of the rest of the the way and finished up just a few steps behind the fellow I started out behind low, those almost 12 hours before, Even though we didn't really see each other all day we finished just as we had started and had a good laugh about it.

My goal was to finish under 12:30 and I completed my run in 11:50 so I was quite pleased with myself. It's funny how I can save up enough energy to finish strong, even though I feel bad in the middle. It's a great race but it's full of all these elite Pacific North Westerners. Even though I took the early start I still was almost DFL. I try not to let this demoralize me and hope that my strengths come into play for the 100 milers because I may be able to run really slow, but hope to still be running the whole way when other people are forced to start walking. We will see.

Hagg Lake 50K February 2008

Put a fork in me, I'm done.

I guess skiing for the week before a 50K provides some training stress. My legs were SHOT for this run yesterday, from the first step. I finished but in a disappointing 6:25. The weather was perfect and the course was miraculously DRY this year. My PR here is 5:50 in wet and muddy conditions.

Oh well. I suspect some of my difficulty was also the lack of trail running I've had in the last 2 months. What was NOT a good training technique was the one fall I took (apparently tripping on a patch of air) about 2/3 into the run. I tweaked my right knee and it made the subsequent downhills difficult. Uphill was about my only gear left. Too bad I wasn't doing Pike's Peak.

Ice on the drive home and some ibuprofen have taken down the swelling. I still notice a twinge going downhill so I'll be taking it easy this week and restricting myself to flatness.