Jed Smith Classic: Race Report

Sometimes races go badly. Sometimes they suck. Sometimes they suck so badly that you don't want to think about them again, much less blog about them. That's how I feel about my performance at Jed Smith last weekend on Feb 5th. And I use the word "performance" lightly. Other, more fitting terms could include: spectacle, debacle, melt down, meh-blah, apathy-fest, etc.  You get the idea. Obviously, things did not go well.

The Jed Smith Classic is held every year in Sacramento. It's know for being a very flat and very fast course. And this year's newly revised course promised to be even flatter and even faster than in previous years. Unfortunately, flat and fast is not my necessarily my forte. In fact, you could probably even say it's my nemesis. The problem is that I'm accustomed to running on trails in the mountains with thousands of feet of elevation gain and loss over the course of the race -- where the pace is around 8:30 minutes per mile. So when I find myself running on flat, fast, well-groomed running surfaces my body has no idea what kind of pace to run. And invariably I end up going out much too hard and then dying after 16 - 18 miles. It's happened to me more than once. More than twice. More than three, four, or five times. But, I digress.

There I was, standing at the starting line with ten seconds to go before the gun goes off. No wait, let's back up a bit...

There I was, sitting at my computer 3 months before the scheduled race date trying to decide whether I wanted to do the 50 mile or the 50 kilometer distance (Jed Smith Classic offers three distances: 50M, 50K, and 30K). Hopefully 2011 would be the year that I finally run (and finish) my first 100 miler. I'd tried (and failed miserably) on two other occasions in previous years -- dropping out of the Umstead Endurance Run at mile 72 in 2005, and again calling it quits at mile 75 of the Tahoe Rim Trail in 2009.

If I am planning on completing a 100 miler this season, it would make sense to do the 50 mile instead of the 50K option at Jed Smith and just use it as an easy training day for my 100 miler later in the year. On the other hand, my 100 miler isn't until late June, so maybe it doesn't make sense to already start ratcheting up the distance so early in the season. Plus, I've been having some knee pain lately, so perhaps it's best to just do the shorter, wimpier 50K option. But what the hell, sign me up for the 50 miler anyway!

However, as the race drew closer I started questioning my bold decision to try and do the full 50 miles. I started hedging my bets. Maybe it would be better to do the 50K instead so that I could potentially score points for my ultra running team, Quicksilver RhoMobile (the 50K event is part of the PAUSATF Ultra Running Grand Prix while the 50 mile event is not). Never mind that we already have 3 guys (Jean, Sean, and Jim) who will certainly all finish well and win the maximum 10 points for the top-scoring team. I should do it for the team! Yeah, that's the ticket.

Then, Friday night as I am driving up to Sacramento the night before the race something happens to solidify my decision. I'm stopped at a red light in busy traffic on Mission Boulevard in Fremont. I see a fast-approaching car in my rear view mirror. But they don't seem to be stopping (or even slowing). The car is getting closer, and definitely not breaking. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6... crash. What the hell? Oww, my neck. My head. My car! Ok, now it's official. I'm lucky to still be alive (actually it was a pretty minor fender bender, but still...), so I better just take it easy and do the 50K.

So there I was at the starting line with ten seconds to go before the gun goes off. My neck hurts. My head hurts, My back hurts. My knee is probably going to start hurting. It's too cold out. But it's gonna be too hot later once the sun comes out. I hate races that go around in circles, on bike paths, with throngs of iPod wearing walkers/joggers/baby strollers/bicyclists/dogs. (Ok, the dogs  weren't wearing iPods, but you get the idea). Obviously I had already given up before the race even started.

So, the race starts. I figure I should start running or something. I go out at 7:00 minute/mile pace for the first two miles -- probably a little too hard in retrospect, though certainly slower and easier than my teammates Jean and Sean and the other race leaders. The miles start slowly ticking off. I slow down a bit and get caught by a small pack of runners that included women's front-runner Jennifer Pfeifer (who would go on to win the women's race) as well as  J.R. Mintz who seems to enter EVERY race that I run. We all chat for a mile, logging a few more miles.

Slowly we start spreading out and running on our own. And that's where the voices in my head take over the party. "I could sure use a cold beer." "Dude, why are you running in circles on this stupid bike path?" "Hey, you're starting to slow down. This is going to turn into a 4 or 5 hour torture-fest" "This sucks, let's go get some lunch." "You're just gonna get injured if you keep this up."

The voices had me at "cold beer". I decide to quietly duck out of the race after my fourth lap at just over 16 miles. Another defeat for me. Another victory for stupid bike paths everywhere.

Hard work beats talent (when talent doesn't work hard)

Here's my "problem"... My training is finally starting to go well again. I've been consistently (slowly but surely) ramping up my weekly mileage since mid November. I seem to be getting into excellent shape. And I've had some great early-season race results including a 2nd place finish at the Summit Rock Sanborn Skyline 1/2 marathon in December and a 2nd place finish at the Crystal Springs 50K in Woodside. Everything really seems to be clicking. Not only is my running going great, but I'm stronger on the bike than I've ever been. I'm able to effortlessly sit in on group rides where I used to struggle to stay on the back of the pack. I even find myself taking the occasionally flier off the front or helping chase down a breakaway. So, it's all good, right?

But here's the dilemma. From past experience (oh too many past experiences) I know that when things are going so well, there's always the risk of feeling too good, pushing too good, and ultimately ending up injured. It's happened to me several times in the past. And I'm worried it could be about to happen -- or already be happening -- again right now. My left knee has been hurting a bit lately. I'm not sure if it's a result of doing too much running in Vibram Five Fingers (so as a precaution I've switched back to my road shoes, at least for now) or just a result of the increased mileage and workload. In any case, I'm worried that disaster might be about to strike.

On the one hand, I've been reading a lot of motivational quotes about "hard work" that inspire me to go out and do some killer workouts. For example, long-distance Kenyan runner Josphat Menjo was recently quoted as saying something to the effect of, "He might run faster, but he won't run harder." I like that! It definitely makes me want to push hard and give everything I have in every workout. And then there's another inspiration, local Bay Area ultra-runner and teammate Jean Pommier who has been putting in some crazy track workouts in his prep for the upcoming Jed Smith 50K (I'm signed up the 50 miler). No pain, no gain! Right?

On the other hand, apparently there is such as thing as too much of a good thing. The title of this blog post, "Hard work beats talent (when talent doesn't work hard)" is based on an inscription on the wall in the weight room of the Iowa Hawkeye's football team. In case you didn't read about it in the news, 13 player of that same football team were recently hospitalized for kidney problems resulting from a intense workout session gone wrong. Hmm, maybe a little common sense and restraint isn't such a bad thing. Maybe slowing down, backing off, or stopping when it starts to hurt is a sign of intelligence rather than a sign of being a sissy?

I have a 50 mile race coming up this Saturday (Jed Smith 50M) in Sacramento. Part of me (let's call him "Big Johnny") wants to continue training through this week at my regular high intensity and mileage without easing off at all. Big Johnny wants to try and race the 50 miles as hard as possible, shooting for a PR. Big Johnny probably even wants to try and go out with the much faster race leaders like last year's race winner, the 19 year old phenom Michael Kanning. However, another part of me (let's call him "Professor Burton") suggests that I should take it easy this week, maybe backing off the mileage a little and doing a a few more easy bikes rides for cross training. Professor Burton points out that this is too early in the season to start doing 100 mile training weeks. Professor Burton also warns that trying to race 50 miles at e.g. 7:30 miles/minute pace is certainly going to result in failure, if not injury.

So, here I am, wondering whose advice to take? Do I listen to Big Johnny and put in a big training week culminating with an all out (balls out) effort on Saturday's race? Or do I take the advice of Professor Burton and take it easy using this week and use the "race" on Saturday as just a long training run? Oh, what to do?

Crystal Springs 50K @Woodside, January 8, 2011

Race start (in the center dressed like a ninja)

Quick Summary: My first race of the new year. Wore my Vibrams. Everything went great! Ran all the hills, no walking. Won my age group and finished 2nd overall just a few minutes behind winner Jed Tukman. Went out real easy and controlled. Stayed on top of fluids, calories, and salts. Maintained discipline. Started picking it up on the way back, and then hammered the last 6 miles. Caught quite a few people in the final miles. Felt awesome. Woo hoo. Here's a link to the official results.

Long-winded rambling: Ok, so there I was. Standing at the start line of the Crystal Springs 50K at Huddart Park in Woodside, California getting ready to do my first 50K (make that my first race of any kind) in 2011. I was nervous. 2010 had been a pretty crappy year for me running wise. I had struggled with a slew of random injuries last year, including a torn calf (during a heated town-line sprint at a noon-time bike ride), a mysterious hamstring injury (I think from sleeping in the cramped trunk of my Mustang GT -- don't ask), and another calf injury (torn muscle from the world's most intense and painful calf cramp). As a result, I only logged 1,500 miles all year long -- down from 2,300 the previous year, and I brought home a nice collection of DNS's (did not start) and DNF's (did not finish).

So there I was, standing at the starting line in Woodside wondering if this is going to be the year that I get back on track with my running. November and December had actually gone quite well and I'd managed to log 40 to 50 miles a week. I'd had a couple of good race results including a 2nd place finish at the Summit Rock half marathon at Sanborn Park (wearing my Vibrams) as well as a respectable finish at the Rodeo Beach 50K (despite a little off trail upheaval of the Ensure protein drink I slammed moments earlier). I was feeling confident in my recent training, but I knew I would need to avoid going out too hard with the race leaders and then later dying (a mistake I seem to repeat compulsively, almost professionally). So I came up with a plan. Go out easy, jog the early hills, stay disciplined on the rollers, take it easy on the downhill to the turnaround point. Then, and only then, start to pick it up if you feel good. Push it on the uphill. Attack the rollers. Hammer the descent.

So, I had a plan. And I was fairly well trained. But I still felt I needed some edge. Hmm, why not try this Vespa stuff that I got in my Christmas stocking? So what if I never tried it before in training? Worst case scenario I will feel nauseous, stop and puke, and only lose a couple of minutes. (But I needn't have worried; the Vespa worked like a charm and I never felt tired the entire race.) Also, I figured if I wore my Vibrams instead of my trusty Salomon Speed Cross, I could save a few grams and run the uphills faster than normal. Another risky bet, considering that the longest distance I had previously run in my Vibrams was only 13 - 15 miles. (But again, I needn't have worried; a little heel bruising and sore calves were a small price to pay for the giant can of "awesomesauce" they provided).

In the end, I managed to stay disciplined and to execute my plan perfectly. I resisted my normal bad tendency of getting lured into going out hard with the race leaders. I stayed on top of my calories, fluids, and salts the entire time. At no time did I never need to sneak off to the side of the trail in order to regurgitate anything. My finishing time of 4:22:08 (8:31 minute/mile pace) was by far the fatest trail 50K I have ever run. My previous fastest trail 50Ks had been 4:42:12 (Quicksilver) 4:46:24 (Dances with Dirt, MI), and 4:48:22 (Pacifica). For a guy who is accustomed to running in the 4:40's, it was dream to finish in the low 4:20's.

All in all, it was a perfect day! And it didn't hurt that we were running on some of the most beautiful, scenic trails in all of the San Francisco Bay Area. If you haven't run Huddart Park and Wunderlich Park before, you really need to treat yourself!

Here's a link to the official results. And here's a link to Scott Dunlap's excellent race report.