50Ks
17. September 20, 2008: Big Basin, Santa Cruz, CA; Skyline to the Sea Trail Run. My time: 7:12:20. This was the inaugural run of a beautiful, mostly single-track trail from the top of northwestern Santa Cruz County, along the Skyline, to the Pacific Ocean, run substantially through Big Basin Park. While mainly downhill (5600 foot drop), there were plenty of uphills (3000 foot rise) -- mostly an up-and-down course on a declining slope to the sea. Many runners PR'ed; for me, it was a PW (personal worst). Why so slow? The simple answer -- I'm a shadow of my former running self. This has been a bad running year; I've been saddled with injuries throughout. While I've mostly overcome my nagging hamstring problems, I still have a bone spur in my left heel and tendinitis in my right knee. I can no long sustain a steady gate -- I sort of wobble side-to-side and can't follow a straight line. With a 5 month hiatus from long-distance trail running, I'm also not in the shape I once was. A big problem is caloric deficit -- I can no longer keep food down, thus four hours into a run, my strength is pretty much zapped. In this run, as with other recent ones, I threw up and after discharging what I had eaten at the aid stations, I had dry heaves -- on what two years ago would have been an easy run, likely a personal best. Heck, I even ran faster on a bad leg five months earlier, per the blog below. It's probably time to hang up this ultra stuff -- doesn't seem to be in the cards for me. That notwithstanding, the trail itself is quite nice. The first part of the course was a bit crowded -- runners in front and behind. Also, as with my Big Basin 50K a year earlier, there were yellow-jacket problems -- I got tagged in the back of the head and in the back. At points, the footing was tough. A nice run to recommend, though I'd do it again only if I were in much better shape. Notable memories: Bonking around two-thirds through the run, the 14K it took to get to the last aid station, and trying to dodge angry yellow-jackets when there was no choice but to try to run through them, as fast as one could.
16. April 19, 2008: San Francisco, CA; Ruth Anderson 50K. My time: 7:01:45. While a very slow run on a fast, easy course that encircles San Francisco's Lake Merced 7 times, I was as proud of this run as any. It wasn't suppose to be. Three weeks earlier, I tore a hamstring muscle on the tough (and inaugural) Terrapin Trail Marathon in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. I caught a rock on a steep downhill section at mile 11, taking a bad spill that tore my left hamstring. I hobbled to mile 17 in excruciating pain before I was could exit the course, getting a ride back to the start. I was thus out of commission, not able to run the 3 weeks leading up to the Ruth Anderson 50K/50M/100K race. Before my injury, I was planning to run 50 miles around Lake Merced. The night before the race, feeling bummed that I wouldn't be able to run this race, I told myself I'd head on over to Lake Merced and cheer the other runners on and perhaps even walk one or two laps. The race director, Rajeev Patel, kindly gave me the option of rolling my registration over to next year's race. When I arrived at the lake early Saturday morning, with the winds kicking up at 40+ mph and an unusual chill in the air for late April, I was fairly bundled up, prepared to start the race with the other runners. When the gun went off at the start line, I began walking while everyone else took off. After about a quarter mile, I decided to try a slow jog. Some 50 minutes later, with a bouts of pain in my left leg, I was amazed I had managed to complete one lap. By then the sun had broken out but it was still quite nippy; I was wearing a long-sleeve and a short sleeve tee-shirt, plus a sleeve-less windbreaker and gloves, yet I was still cold, in part because I was walking part of the way. After one lap, I told myself, "quit while your ahead", but a little voice inside me said it's a nice, sunny morning, if not a bit nippy, so why not walk another lap to be in the elements with fellow runners, enjoy the moment, and perhaps even loosen up the hamstring some. Thus I started the second lap, and as before, began alternating between walking and a slow shuffle. Some of the faster runners had already passed me early into my second lap. After lap two, my hamstring was protesting and I told Rajeev and the lap counters that I was done for the day. However for whatever reason, I mentioned I might try to walk one more lap just to "keep moving" and burn off some calories. One of the lap counters told me to hold on to my number; you never know, he noted -- perhaps you'll want to do another lap after that. Anyway, some 55 minutes later I had completed another lap, and the rational, left hemisphere of my brain told me to not go overboard and jeopardize long-term injury -- quit while you're ahead and save yourself for the possibility of running two other much tougher 50K trail runs I had signed up for the next month. Just when I was ready to throw in the towel after a half-marathon distance, an older woman mentioned to me that "you're almost halfway done". Some 3 hours into the race, I rationalized that the cut-off time was 11 hours and even if I did nothing but walk the remaining 18 miles, it'd be better than sitting. Thus I set a goal of basically being on my feet for 7+ hours, sharing the path with top-flight ultra-runners doing the 50 miler and 100K. Mentally, the toughest loop was the 5th one, when cumulative effects of running on a bum leg were starting be felt. By that point, however, I determined to test my mental toughness and for better or worse, soldiered on. By lap 6, I actually started to pass some runners and psychologically was in a better state because I knew I was going to finish a ultra-run I thought earlier that day was impossible. Lap 7 turned out to be the most enjoyable because the end was in sight. When I crossed the 50K mark, cheered on by Rajeev and others, I was on cloud nine. While an incredibly slow and arduous journey, I actually finished ahead of three other runners. The blustery winds prompted some runners to drop out early and many folks who planned to run farther opted to stop at 50K. While my hamstring recovery no doubt suffered a setback, it didn't feel too much worse the day after the run than it had the day before. Overall, a crazy outing for me, and while I might have been foolish to try this with an unhealed injury, I had a sense of accomplishment unlike any run I've done before. Notable memories: Notwithstanding the monotony of staring at the same scenery at a slow pace and battling continuous bouts of discomfort and pain over 7 hours, this was indeed an event for the memory books. I was happier spending that Saturday morning walking/jogging and marveling at some of the fast athletes who passed me on numerous occasions than sitting at home, sulking over not being able to do the run. Also memorable was passing gun blasts on seven different occasions -- a firing range lies at the south end of Lake Merced, with rifle-wielding shooters blasting away at targets in the water as runners passed by. Thank God for my ipod, that help muffle what otherwise would have been ear-piercing gun blasts over a half mile stretch of the course.
15. January 20, 2008: Calico, CA; Calico Trail Run (53 Km). My time: 7:02:41. Pleasant though fairly tough trail run that loops the rocky slopes outside of Calico, a resurrected ghost town in California's Mojave desert. Weather was ideal -- sunny, in the 50s and 60s. Should have worn trail shoes -- lots of rocks and scree had me slipping and a sliding on the hilly slopes. Was also quite windy. The gusting Santa Ana winds blew my runner's cap into a mountain wash. Ran a slow, conservative race in preparation for an upcoming long run. The course added a 2 mile out-and-back section that not everyone ran, making it 32 miles for those who did, myself included. Notable memories: Dodging around a dozen brand-new Hummers filled with what looked to be very attractive models, evidently heading for some kind of advertising shoot in the desert and seeing the Calico name etched into the hillside upon the return, running through the town's dusty main street to the finish line.
14. December 22, 2007: Marin County, CA; Rodeo Beach Trail Run (50.3 Km). My time: 6:59:58. Second time I've run this race, much slower than the first. The revised course is a bit shorter and has 600 feet less elevation gain, however it took me around 54 minutes longer to complete the run than last year. Having just flown in from Beijing, China the prior day might have had something to do with the sluggish performance however I've no doubt slowed -- the proverbial tortoise. Notable memories: Views of the Golden Gate Bridge, both times on the Marin Headlands ridge line heading toward the start/finish line.
13. September 16, 2007: Big Basin, CA; Big Basin Redwood Trails Run 50K. My time: 7:02:26. Ouch! This one will go down in the memory bank as fighting off the yellow jackets from hell and losing. Tough course run through the the towering redwoods of Big Basin state park in the mountains of Santa Cruz county. It's two continuously up-and-down loops, each run twice, with a total elevation gain of 6300 feet. At around the half-way juncture of the first loop, I and every other runner got tagged by a swarming band of angry yellow jackets. At the first attack, I got stung at least 7 times -- on the head, ear, neck, legs, hands, and back. Two miles later there was another hive. This time, I thought I'd try to run around them, off-trail. Mistake! I got stuck in the middle of the hive, on a steep slope, and with no footing. This time, I got hit at least 10 times. Approaching and leaving each yellow jacket juncture, you could hear the screams of runners echoing through the canyons. A number of people bailed, simply turning around and ending their race. I was about to do the same and sure wasn't going to do this same loop a second time. Pacific Coast Trail Runs opted to change the course for the second loop, having runners do an out-and-back along a section without yellow jackets. The other loop, a 10K, fortunately was bee-free. I failed to bust 7 hours, however it was a very tough and long course (over 50k). Yes slow, however I still finished finished in 20th place out of 60 who registered for the 50K -- a number of folks bailed mid-race. Oh, the trials and tribulation of trail ultras -- so many things can get you, including nasty little flying critters. Notable memories: Running for 6 hours feeling like a pin cushion, with piercing bee stings all over my body.
12. September 2, 2007: Pollock Pines, CA; Run on the Sly 50K. My time: 6:48:21. Hot and dusty -- with temps in the 90s-100s and clouds of dust along the trails, this one was grueling at times. It's a scenic course, run along the Sly River, around Jenninson Lake, and through the pine trees of the Sierra foothills. The tall pines provided welcome shade in the morning, however by midday, the overhead sun began to beat down mercilessly. The race started at 8AM, which meant for mid-pack runners like myself, we got the full brunt of the sun in the early afternoon. Patches of trails in open fields invited early afternoon temps near 100. At times, I had a baggie of ice on my head, which provided brief relief before the rapid melt. The race organizers really should start the run earlier to avoid the hard-hitting Labor Day weekend sun -- pretty much a guarantee in this part of Northern California. Running through the creek at the spillover was nice. With elevations in the 4000 ft. range, I was relieved that there was also no poison oak. Spent the Labor Day weekend with my family in Placerville. Sophia and the kids greeted me at the 19-mile Mormon Emigrant aid station with a cold, wet towel, change of shirt, and a vanilla shake. Notable memories: Heat and dust, gently rolling terrain around gleaming Jennison Lake, and a refreshing cold shower followed by a chicken burrito at the finish line.
11. August 26, 2007: Oakland, CA; Redwood Park 50K. My time: 6:32:24. Three loops around Redwood Park. First loop was overcast but things heated up for the 2nd and 3rd. Some steep sections. I trained on the course the week before thus I knew what was in store. Notable memories: Variety of terrain, canopy of redwood trees, and taking three falls that removed skin.
10. August 5, 2007: Castro Valley, CA; Skyline 50K (51K - 31.65 miles). My time: 5:54:53. I've always wanted to run this race but in the past I've been away on vacation the first week of August. I was able to cancel a scheduled trip to China, allowing me to finally run this race. Running in "my own back yard" is always enjoyable...and convenient. The course covers roughly the first three-fifths of October's Firetrail 50 miler, running from the marina in Lake Chabot along the ridgelines to Skyline Gate and back -- in the opposite (clockwise) direction and with more single track. A pleasant run, with some 4750 feet of elevation gain. Conditions were perfect -- in the 60s, and at the end of the race, actually a light drizzle. Rain, in the Bay Area, in August? Who would have thunk? It's days like these I'm reminded how privileged I am to live in the Bay Area. While the rest of the country is sizzling in sticky heat, it's a cool, overcast running day in the East Bay. Notable memories: Cloudy skies, running along ridgelines as well as through canopies of tall trees, seeing pretty much the same ole Bay Area ultra crowd, and the hearty post-race barbeque.
9. May 20, 2007: Fremont-Livermore CA; Ohlone Wilderness Run 50K. My time: 7:10:21. This certainly lived up to its billing as one of the toughest 50K's around. With two steady climbs to the peaks of Mount Mitchell in Fremont and Mount Rose west of Livermore and some 8000 feet of elevation gain, this one's a constant grind. Quite a month of trail running it's been, marked by my toughest 50K, 50 miler, and marathon. The Sunol aid station at mile 9 is the point of no return -- it's pure wilderness till the finish at Del Valle park; with no interior roads, the only way out is to press onward. As the 20th anniversary of this race, the race directors pulled out all the stops on this one, starting with transporting the runners from the finish to the start in stretch limos. Though my slowest 50K, I finished in the middle of the pack; for some, it took over 11 hours to negotiate the non-stop hills and drops. With few shade trees and the sun beating down, one's constantly fighting the elements from start to finish. Ohlone's only for the hardiest of souls. Notable memories: Besides getting to the start via limousine, chatting with the legendary Ann Trayson and Carl Anderson who were manning the aid station at mile 14 and enjoying a lavish barbeque at the finish, a welcomed feast for a tough day of trail running.
8. March 10, 2007: Cool, CA; Way Too Cool 50K. My time: 6:13:34. Billed as the most popular 50K in the U.S., the 2007 race filled the 450 available slots within 7 minutes! And they all came to run the mostly single-track trails. While a beautiful course, for me, Way Too Cool was Way Too Crowded. Pretty much the entire way, people were on my heels and in front. When it comes to trials, I'm into solitude, thus it really wasn't my thing. The race draws all the serious runners from the Auburn area, which bills itself as "the endurance running capital of the world". Many were training for Western States 100 and probably half will run the American River 50 next month. The skies were sunny and the weather was balmy -- in the high 70s in the river canyons. The course has lots of gently rolling sections and 3 fairly steep climbs that required me to crawl on all fours in parts. And it has all the trappings of a good trail run -- rocks, roots, stream crossings, mud, and lots of elevation gain and downhills. I felt sluggish most of the run, mostly likely due to having just flown in from Brisbane, Australia less than 2 days before. Notable memories: Hearing croaking sounds from the race's mascot, the frog, along the stream beds, passing a memorial to a woman killed by a mountain lion while training for the race in 1984, and having my family greet me when I turned the bend to the straightaway finish.
7. January 20, 2007: Pacifica, CA; Pacifica Trail Run (50.5 K). My time: 6:50:17. Tough run, this one was: 7100 feet of elevation gain involving three up-and-down loops and two climbs to the top of North Peak and back down. There were really no flat sections to this course -- just a series of rises and drops. Some of the sections were steep, thus I did a fair amount of power hiking by the latter loops. Rocks and roots made the run all the more challenging. The weather was gorgeous however -- low 60s and blue skies. The field was a bit crowded, with the vast majority of runners doing the 9K, 21K, or 30K. Thus traffic on the mostly single-track trails for the first loop and out-and-back was bumper-to-bumper. While I was bone tired, I enjoyed the solitariness of the latter part of the run the most. This was my slowest but also the toughest 50K to date. me true-blue ultra-runners before and after the race (including a guy who had run the tough HURT 100 the week before) and hopping on a red-eye to Washington DC several hours after finishing the race.
6. December 23, 2006: Marin County, CA; Rodeo Beach Trail Run (50.3 Km). My time: 6:06:41.This one had all the elements: beautiful vistas (Pacific Ocean, Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco, Sausalito), steep single-track trails, fire roads, rocks, mud, running on sand, and sharing narrow ledges with horses. Starting at Rodeo Beach near the Golden Gate and running through the Marin Headlands, 6200 feet of elevation gain spread over five steep slopes made this a tough one. Though parts of the trail were muddy, otherwise the conditions were near perfect: temps in the 60s, somewhat cloudy with breaks of sunshine, and a gorgeous day all around. I was happy with my time given all the trail climbing. Having put in a 100+ mile week while in Hong Kong a week earlier evidently paid off -- except for sore quads on the last steep downhill, I generally felt fine throughout. 2006 was quite a running year for me: 17 "marathons and beyond": 9 ultras (three 50 milers, six 50Ks) & 8 marathons. While I slowed down some, I extended my distances, jumping into the world of ultras. I enjoy ultra-running mainly because the edge is off: it's less competitive, there's less hype, courses are varied and surprises always lie ahead, and the low-keyed culture of ultras suits my taste. I plan to continue running road marathons, though trail ultras are what excite me, at least for now. Notable memories: Catching the sunrise over San Francisco from the Golden Gate lookout, enjoying the sweeping panoramic views of the Pacific and San Francisco Bay from the top of the Marin Headlands, and reflecting on the contrast of ultra-running versus what I would be doing the next day: spending Christmas Eve in Kauai with my family!
5. November 4, 2006: Granite Bay-Folsom, CA; Helen Klein Ultra Classic - 50K. My time: 5:19:42. Beautiful day for a Saturday morning run on the long bike-path that hugs the American River east of Sacramento. It's an out-and-back along a flat to gently rolling course from Granite Bay to beyond Folsom and back. Still, the gentle uphill on the return was noticeable after some 40k of running. The bike-path was quite busy, with cyclists whizzing by, joined by strollers, joggers and day-trippers. It was supposed to be overcast, but turned out a bright, sunny day -- so warm, in fact, I took my shirt off most the run. I used this as a training run for an upcoming 50 miler. I didn't push it and was reasonably happy with my time -- all 50Kers ahead of me were two or more years younger. Most people did the full 50 mile course. It's a loyal group of ultrarunners who populate this part of the country -- many knew each other and were quite chummy. The run is a great tribute to Helen Klein, the matriarch of ultrarunning, with her husband, Norm, as RD. Notable memories: A gently rolling terrain, a break from the ups-and-downs of my past ultras, plus having some cranky cyclist yell at me as he came flying by: "put your shirt on!", as if running shirtless somehow offended him; my inner response was what's your problem, man! I'm sweating bullets in this hot sun, so why should you or anyone else care if I'm running topless. Geez!
4. September 17, 2006: Salt Point State Park, Sonoma Coast, CA; Salt Point Trail Run (50.5 Km). My time: 6:36:51. Lots of up and down on this one, with the only reasonably flat sections along the shoreline. One of the most spectacular runs I've ever done, notwithstanding being one of the toughest (5000 feet elevation gain). It's four loops (15K, 11K, 9K, 15K) through the coastal hills of Sonoma County, treating runners to tall redwoods, pigmy forests, and great seashore vistas. It was also one of the my most solitary runs -- most of the time, I was by my lonesome. Footing was tricky in many spots; getting into and out of Stump Beach required dropping and climbing on all fours. I took four hard spills on downhill sections. At the 30K mark, I badly sprained my left ankle. I thought I'd have to drop. I took it easy and gingerly negotiated the last 20K on a really sore ankle -- good enough to finish 4th out of 10 finishers (three 50Kers dropped out). Elevation changes and bright sunny weather (mid-80s) made this a "measured" run for most. I used it as a training run for upcoming 50 milers but continuing on a twisted ankle could end up backfiring. Was proud my 15-year old, Chris, did the 11K. Also nice: dropping into the start/finish area on 3 occasions to greet my family. Notable memories: Sore quads from the downhill pounding and an even sorer left ankle, beautiful but challenging course with lots of variety, and the peacefulness of running solo most of the time, surrounded by redwoods, birds, ocean cliffs, and stunning vistas of the Sonoma coast.
Kristen meeting up with her dad after the first loop (left) and final loop (right) toward the finish line.
3. July 15, 2006: Mt. Ashland, OR; Siskiyou Out Back (S.O.B.). My time: 6:30:15. Four things conspired to make this one of the toughest runs I've ever done: altitude, elevation gain, weather, and bugs. This lollipop course (out-and-back with a loop) was between 6000 and 7200 feet, starting at the Mt. Ashland ski lodge. Second, there were no flat sections -- constant up-and-down, with 4200 feet of elevation gain. Third, temps were in the high-80s -- a cloudless day with bright scorching skies. Last, throughout the run, nasty dragonflies, bees, and other critters buzzed around my head. Despite the hardships, it's a beautiful course along the single-track Pacific Coast Trail in the Siskiyou mountains of far southern Oregon, close to the California border. The altitude drained me -- I (and most others) walked the uphills. Despite my best efforts, every time I faced an uphill, the tank was empty. While my time wasn't great, I managed to finish in the top half of my age group. Having done a tough 50K just 2 weeks earlier, I wasn't sure if I had recovered in time. I was also dealing with a nasty bout of poison oak that had swollen my arm and hand, making training hard; I wasn't sure I could do this run till a few days before when the swelling finally went down. My goal on this one was to simply finish, regardless of time. The first 8 kms of the run was like a conga line as runners ran lock-stock along the narrow trail. By the time we hit a steep fire road, things spread out. The footing was treacherous at times -- a few folks took nasty spills. I lost my sunglasses while running at around 5 kms. I wasted 5 minutes searching all over for them as some 20 runners passed me, all asking "you lose something?". Fortunately I had a visor cap, though I still squinted for much of the remaining 6 yours. Hitting the last aid station at mile 26.2, I was asked if I needed anything. My response, "yeah, oxygen", drew some consenting chuckles from other weary contenders. Notable memories: Gasping for air, tricky footing along scree-strewn mountainsides, and running past snow in mid-July.
2. July 1, 2006: Angel Island, CA; Angel Island Trail Run (50.6 Km). My time: 5:59:14. This was a challenging set of loops around hilly Angel Island, which sits in the San Francisco Bay between Alcatraz and the Tiburon peninsula. Runners do two sets of 3 loops: a perimeter, a middle, and upper one. The perimeter is part road and part fire trail; the middle loop is mainly single-track trail; and the upper (and steepest) one takes you to the summit (850' Mount Livermore) and back on single tracks. Each loop was in the 5+ mile range and brought runners back to the start (and one aid station) at Ayala Cove, the only really flat place on the island where boats dock. The run is organized by Pacific Coast Trail Runs whose motto is "serious fun" and approach is low-keyed -- no medals or hype. Most participants did the 16K or 25K, and some (including my son, Chris) did the 8K. After completing three up-and-down loops, it became clear that few runners were going to do another round. Among the 400+ participants, fewer than 35 did the 50K+. While I enjoyed the solitude of the last set of runs, I was sapped by the continuous up-and-down and struggled to finish the last two loops. My aim was to break 6 hours, which I did, barely. Most enjoyable were the wonderful 360o vistas of the Bay, catching peripheral glimpses of the bridges -- Bay Bridge, Gold Gate Bridge, and Richmond Bridge -- plus the skyline of San Fran and the aquatic coves of southeastern Marin. The trails themselves were spectacular and varied -- lush oak trees on the leeward (eastern) side and wind-brushed sculpted hillsides on the west. I enjoyed seeing my family the six times I dropped into Ayala Cove, taking a break to stretch the legs and hydrate. The ferry ride to and from Angel Island was also nice. Most difficult was the psychology of race -- having to do the same loops twice and to contend with a steep set of stairs that led out of Ayala Cove on six occasions. Also, by the 2nd loop, boatloads of tourists had populated the island and the trails -- including the steep stairs, which made navigating around folks hauling up baby carriages and ice chests challenging. With some 4500 feet of elevation gain, this was a hardy way to spend a Saturday morning. Notable memories: Changing weather -- from morning fog to bright early-afternoon sunshine, various course obstacles (including a fallen tree that required 50K runners to navigate through a thicket of branches on 4 occasions), tricky footing (I took 2 hard falls after tripping on roots), a venomous snake that I almost stepped on crossing the road on the second pass of the perimeter loop, suffering the post-race "poison-oak blues", and having my youngest daughter, Kristen, egg me to get going every time I finished a loop and sought a brief respite, concerned that other runners were going to pass her dad!
1. May 13, 2006: LaGrange, WI; Ice Age Trail 50K. My time: 5:32:20. The race's web site described this as a "cool, wet, wild, and muddy affair". That it was. A nasty low pressure cell hung over the Great Lakes region, creating a dreary morning with temps some 25 degrees below average, prompting me and others to wear gloves...in mid-May! Despite mushy footing, I enjoyed this run through the rolling hills of the Kettle Moraine in southeast Wisconsin. It was an out-and-back for 13 miles followed by two 9 mile loops around a Nordic cross-country ski trail. I was on business in nearby Madison, WI, thus I opted to hang around an extra day and do my first 50K. I wasn't sure how I'd fare having run a road marathon 6 days earlier, however things went fine -- I finished 7 out of 32 in my age group. Lots of friendly folks and vibes on these wet, up-and-down yet fun trails. Notable memories: Watching temps drop from the 70s to the low 40s between the time I arrived in Madison on Wednesday and Saturday morning of the race, chatting with friendly mid-westerners along the course, and taking a great warm shower at an RV camp an hour after the race en route to the Madison airport.
50 Miles
5. May 12, 2007: San Jose, CA; Quicksilver 50 Mile Endurance Run. My time: 10:48:30. Another tough 50 miler, 3 weeks after Leona Divide and 2 weeks after my toughest marathon to date. With over 8500 feet of elevation gain, Quicksilver tests one meddle. I liked the course -- after some 5 miles of rolling single-track trails, it's mostly fire trails that wind through Quicksilver county park, nestled between San Jose and Morgan Hill. Graham Cooper broke his course record -- I chatted with him at my local fitness club, Oakwood, the week before, and he was taking the run in stride. At about the 20 mile mark, we crossed paths and Graham cheerfully greeted me, "hi Rob". He was already a good hour and a half ahead of me and ended up beating me by more than 4 hours. Of course, he's 20 years my junior but still a remarkable athlete (he ran two Wildwood triatholons the prior week). Having just turned 56 four days earlier and just arrived the previous evening from a talk I gave in Raleigh NC, I was content with my performance -- I came in 56th on about my 56th birthday. There were 93 starters and nearly one in five dropped. I chatted with a 15 year old kid (my son's age) some 8 hours into the run. He was struggling but persevered, eventually finishing in a little over eleven hours. Amazing for a young teen. I struggled with keeping food down. My stomach stopped cooperating at mile 40. By afternoon, the weather was pretty toasty but still a great way to spend a Saturday in May. Notable memories: Arriving in the cold chill of the morning from my hotel near downtown San Jose without a coat, I ended up wearing my suit jacket I had on hand from a business meeting the previous day in Raleigh; the woman at the registration desk saw me with a suit jacket adorning my tee-shirt and shorts, declaring me the best dressed runner ever at Quicksilver!
4. April 21, 2007: Lake Hughes, CA; Leona Divide 50 Mile Run. My time: 11:06:51. Toughest run I've done to date. While the ~9000 feet of elevation gain was challenging, what did me in was the altitude, with most of the run above 4000 feet. With a stuffy nose from spring allergies, there just wasn't enough oxygen in the windpipes to keep me going. I bonked toward the end, reduced to a walk-shuffle. Still, it's a nice course, with around 34 miles on the scenic Pacific Coast Trail in the Angeles national forest in far-north LA county and the rest on dirt roads. It's up-and-down throughout -- no flat sections on this one. The weather was fantastic -- cool in the early morning and sunny, in the high 60s, most of the afternoon. It snowed in the mountains the previous night and at around 4500 feet and higher, there were patches of snow on the side of the trail -- in Southern California, in late April...who woulda thunk? I stepped in a divot dug out by a horse's hoof on a steep downhill at around mile-28, twisting my ankle and taking a pretty bad spill that stripped the skin from my right elbow and knee. At the next aid station volunteers cleaned me up with water and peroxide. I was considering dropping but managed to hobble-run the remaining 22 miles on a mildly troubled ankle. While my time suffered, overall it was an enjoyable run, save for the final 5 miles over which I bonked. I clearly need to acclimate to altitude if I'm to run more ultras a mile or so above sea level. Notable memories: Running on narrow single-track trails of the Pacific Coast Trail with fairly steep drop offs, lots and lots of uphill, rubbing snowballs on my neck to cool off in the afternoon sun, and seeing Sophia and Kristen a half-mile from the finish in a zombie-like state, knowing I could soon sit and rest.
3. November 18, 2006: Boonsboro-Williamsport, Maryland; JFK 50 Mile (50.2 miles). My time: 9:58:07. While I cut off exactly 40 minutes from my 50 miler the previous month, this was no cake walk. This is the oldest and largest ultramarathon in the world. It's really three races. After a 500 foot rise from downtown Boonsboro (named after Daniel Boone's brothers) to the Appalachian ridge, it's a 13 mile trot along the Appalachian trail, which involved mainly side-stepping and dodging ankle-twisting rocks, roots, and boulders. I figured I added at least a mile to my run by zig-zagging around the many obstacles. While the trail was gorgeous in the bright morning light, I found this a very difficult part of the run. The rocks were endless. It took me around 3 hours to get through this part of the course, and by the second hour, I was mentally zoned out from constantly watching my foot plants to avoid the jutting rocks. Plus there were all these younger runners in rock-gripping trail shoes (I opted for regular road flats...mistake) whizzing by and nudging me out of the way on the mostly single-track trail. Not having great balance in the first place and still nursing a not totally healed left ankle, I took it easy on this part of the run, fearing a single twist would take me out of the game (with some 40 miles still to go). Regardless, I still took two hard falls (one a face plant, the other a good bounce), though fortunately I didn' t land on any jagged rocks. Some folks did and got pretty messed up. Dropping down the switchbacks to the C&O canal was a welcome relief. This second part of the course is along the mostly flat (though slightly uphill) tow path that hugs a canal paralleling the Potomac. Runners with support teams changed from trail shoes to regular running shoes at this point. This part of the course is steeped in history, passing Harper's Ferry on the left and Antietam and other civil war sites up the steep cliff to the right. Some find this 26.3 mile stretch (a tad over a marathon) monotonous, however I loved it -- beautiful and relatively fast. The final part of the course is an 8.5 mile stroll through rolling farmland to the town of Williamsport, where many residents turn out to greet the runners at the finish line. I was satisfied with my run, breaking my goal of 10 hours, coming in 381 of some 1350 starters, and in the top 28% of my age group's finishers. My sister, Louise, and I drove up from my hometown of Norfolk, VA (where, by the way, the winner of the race hails from), spending a couple nice days together; she and her dog Amber were my support team. It's a well organized ultra, though the head honchos are a bit of control freaks (compared to most laid-back ultras): many strictures, such as no listening to music while running and requiring all race numbers to be pinned to one's torso (I prefer to pin to my running shorts). Still, it was nifty to be part of history -- in terms of both ultrarunning and Americana. The race is in honor of JFK, first having been run in 1963 (the year of his assassination) and taking place the weekend before the November assassination date itself. Notable memories: Great weather (in 40s but bright), the course's varied running-scape, lots of people (including some 500 early-starters who left 2 hours before I, some of whom, as runner-hikers, I ended up passing along the course), a miserable trip getting to the race (four hour flight delay plus sitting in traffic for 2 hours outside of Norfolk while driving to Hagerstown MD), enjoying time with my sister, and the seemingly never-ending stream of granite rocks strewn along the Appalachian trial.
3 races in 1: Appalachian Trail (left), marathon-length C&O towpath (middle), and nearing the finish line (at dusk, right)
2. October 7, 2006: San Leandro-Berkeley, CA; Dick Collins Firetrails 50. My time: 10:38:07. Fun but challenging run in one of the most beautiful courses that's also my home turf. With 8,000 feet of elevation gain (more than usual because a steeper section was added to get around a bridge closure) and bright sunny skies, the Firetrails 50 made for a good Saturday workout. Having badly sprung my ankle less than 3 weeks earlier on a 50K and having done little training since (interspersed by a trip to Korea), I had doubts about this one. Despite taping my ankle and adding two layers of bandage wraps, I still felt a numb pain much of the race. By taking it easy (power-hiking the steep uphills and keeping a steady pace on the downhills and flats), I got through the race just fine. My only goal was to make the 13-hour cut-off time, thus finishing in the top half of my age group with two and a half hours to spare was great. It's the variety of this out-and-back course between Lake Chabot in San Leandro and Berkeley's Tilden Park that makes it so wonderful (I had run the second half of the course last year in Golden Hills marathon): the beauty of Lake Chabot in the pre-dawn moonlight and late-afternoon setting sun; Oakland's lush redwoods stands; great vistas of the Bay and Mount Diablo; and everything one could want on fire trails and single track (roots, rocks, stream crossings, and lots of up-and-down). Sophia dropped me off at Lake Chabot at 5:30 in the morning; was great to see her and Kristen a mile from the finish along Lake Chabot later in the afternoon. The tasty treats of barbeque, burgers, and other scrumptious goodies at the Firetrails Cafe is hands-down the best post-race meal I've ever had. Ultrarunners are hardy and know how to party. Notable memories: Since I opted for an early start because of my bad ankle, I ended up running solo in the pitch dark around Lake Chabot for the first two miles, occasionally with the full moon breaking through the tree canopies. I was way in front of the other early starters, all whom had headlamps, because their pace was simply too slow. I was the first runner to reach the first two aid stations with lots of fanfare, though I candidly admitted I had an early jump on the fastest runners; still, it was neat to baste in the applause of aid station workers upon being first to arrive (and hear that in past years early-starters had been passed by the lead runners by those points). And the thrill of seeing the boat ramp toward the very end of the run, with my daughter Kristen running by my side, knowing I had less than a minute to the finish line. I was pleased I had enough left in the tank to sprint to the end, appreciating the hearty applause as I broke the finish line and was greeted by the race directors: the legendary Ann Trason (who owns the women's record for the course not to mention her 12 first places at Western States 100) and her husband, Carl Andersen (who happens to have the fastest time ever on the course). What an ending!
Downhill at turnaround (mile 26)...Kristen joining dad a mile from the finish.
1. April 1, 2006: Sacramento-Auburn, CA; American River 50 Mile Endurance Run. My time: 10:39:36. Finally, I've made the leap into the Ultra world -- a muddy, lengthy one, but enjoyable nonetheless. Wasn't sure if I was the April Fool to attempt this following a month of non-stop rain that left the ground saturated and the single-track trail a bog of ankle-deep mud. I knew what I was getting into for I had done a practice run on the last 23 (and steepest) miles of the course two weeks before. While I was caked in mud following the practice run (plus I had a brush with poison oak), the ensuing two weeks of incessant rain made the trail all the more muddy. The practice run took 4 1/2 hours, thus I figured I could crack 9 hours on the full course. Notwithstanding the muddier footing, I discovered there's a big difference in running 23 single-track miles on fresh legs versus having just run a marathon-plus distance. Northern California's Spring 2006 has been miserable -- the rain from the Napa Valley marathon a month earlier never let up, resulting in more days of rainfall than ever. The day of the Ultra itself was pleasant with only a few sprinkles and even times of sunshine. This is one of the largest and longest-running 50-milers in the U.S. The first half of the course follows a winding bike-path with a graveled shoulder along the American River. It's pretty flat. The last half is largely horse trails over an undulating landscape, with a net gain of some 2500 feet. It's the last 2 1/2 miles (after the "Last Gasp" aid station) that's the killer -- some 1500 feet of steady rise. I and others pretty much had to power walk it in. I, however, had little power. I bonked by mile 47. It took me 1 1/2 hours to do the last 2 1/2 miles. I was on a pace to break 9 hours, my target, up to around mile 40 and then started falling apart. As they say, forget about time -- the challenge of your first 50 miler is to simply finish! What I like most about Ultras is the culture -- everything's low keyed (less competitive than a marathon, little corporate sponsorship and thus tee-shirts that aren't plastered with corporate logos, a help-thy-neighbor ethos among runners, and the overall laid-back feel of things). So much so that I've penciled in more Ultras on my calendar. I'll do some 50Ks as more or less training runs ("stepping stones") to future 50 milers. It's a new adventure and I have lots to learn. Notable memories: Mud! Enjoying classic rock tunes the first 8 hours (while my IPod Nano still had juice), having spirited folks cheer me and the other runners on during the difficult 40-50 mile stretch of the run, and seeing my kids 10-plus hours later at the finish line. Chris joined me across the finish and Kristen obliged me by tenderly wiping the mud off her tired dad's battered ankles and soggy feet.
Along the bike trail ... wading through the mud ... approaching the finish with my son, Chris ... at the finish line ... Chris, Kristen & me after 50 miles ... Kristen cleans dad's yucky feet.
100 Miles
1. July 21-22, 2007: West Windsor, VT; Vermont 100 Mile Endurance Run (100.9 miles). My time: 25:50:32. My first "century" was a blast. I honestly wasn't sure I could keep going for 100 miles however all and all, it was a very enjoyable experience. To my surprise, I didn't feel beaten up at the end -- less so than with many road marathons. The course is cloverleaf-shaped, traversing the gently rolling hillsides of spectacularly gorgeous east-central Vermont. Around 60% of the run is on dirt carriage-roads (with mostly the soil consistency of modeling clay), 30% on single-track trails (mud, roots, rocks, and all), and the remainder on the open fields of farm estates, with a mile or so running on the shoulders of highways. I decided to start slowly which paid off. By mile 60, I began passing lots of runners, mostly on the down hills. The course isn't a piece of cake -- some 15,000+ feet of uphill and a comparable amount of down. It's also 3 miles longer than the previous years; a GPS re-check showed this year's redrawn course to be nearly 101 miles in length. I generally power-walked the uphills (around a quarter of the course), ran the downs, and jogged most of the flats and gently rolling terrain. I drove up from Virginia with my sister and 16-year old son, Chris, who were my crew. They provided much-appreciated vanilla milkshakes at some key junctures of the course -- a great thirst-quincher and calorie-injector. At the Margaritaville aid station (mile 65), the 2nd crossing of 10 Bear (mile 70.5), and Bill's (mile 85), the body toll and carnage were noticeable. I got out of those places as fast as I could since much of running a 100-miler is mental. I lost 3 pounds at the first weigh in (mile 47) but managed to maintain my weight the rest of the check points. Given I felt nauseated mid-race and had a hard time keeping down solids, I was concerned of weight loss and being pulled. The milk shakes helped a lot -- not only neutralizing the acid build-up in my stomach but also injecting some much-needed calories. I was also plagued by blisters on the bottom of my feet, though not painful enough to keep my feet from moving. Particularly enjoyable was headlamp-running at night -- mainly single-track trails with tricky footing, generally by myself, and amidst all sorts of critters. The bible-black skies and brilliant stars were breathtaking. At several junctures, I stopped for a few minutes, soaking in the elements and enjoying the solitude. Also, I experienced 2 sunrises. The race started at 4 AM on Saturday, thus running with a flashlight, I was in the dark till the sun rose that morning; and some 5 miles before I crossed the finish line, I witnessed a brilliant sunrise again over the eastern Vermont hillsides. It's actually a "ride and run" -- some 30 folks rode horses the 100 miles; I enjoyed running besides these beautiful steeds during the early parts of the course. The weather was pretty cooperative with relative low humidity -- though in the afternoon, the cloudless sun beat down mercilessly; many started dropping at this point. All and all, I did far better than I expected -- they say the goal of your first 100 miler is to simply finish (in this case, within the 30 hour cutoff time). Out of 225 folks who started the run, I came in 82nd; nearly 40% of the runners did not finish (DNF'd). The last mile of the course was wacky -- all kinds of unexpected twists and turns. I got lost around 1/4 mile from the finish, ending up at a garbage dump -- not what I had in mind as a close-out to the run. I lost some 10 minutes of time retracing my steps and ended up logging over 102 miles...all part of the century experience. Notable memories: Fabulous scenery including crossing two rivers in covered bridges, the eerie quietness of the midnight/early-morning run, and the euphoria of crossing the finish line yet feeling like I could keep going.
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