2013 Ohlone 50k Race Report

The Preamble (or Pre-Ramble?)

I'm a runner! It's taken me 40 years to finally get comfortable saying those words. Sure, I've been running most of my life -- from those early days as a six or seven year old when my father would take me out for short runs around the neighborhood, eventually doing my first 10 miler as a ten year old.

And yes, I raced cross country and track in high school. And even in college, when my priorities shifted to other pursuits like chugging beers and awkwardly flirting with girls (and sporadically hitting the books and attending class), I still managed to sneak in the occasional evening run -- though not always while sober :)

But I've never felt comfortable actually referring to myself as a runner -- not a real runner anyway. Real runners were guys who logged 100+ mile weeks, won races, and trotted effortlessly up hill on their toes while everyone else was forced to trudge along, hiking up the hills with hands on knees. Me? I was the part-time, pretend wanna-be runner: the heel striker who plodded along in the middle of the pack, the triathlete/cyclist who preferred to hop on his bike than lace up his running shoes. I wasn't a real runner.

Certainly my running has steadily improved over the last few years as I've fallen back in love with the sport -- particularly mountain, trail, and ultra-marathon running. Yes my times are getting faster and my results are getting better. In 2012 and 2013 I've run PRs in everything from the 5K, 10K, half marathon, full marathon, 50K, 50 mile, and 100 mile. Heck, I even came in 2nd at the Silicon Valley Beer Mile championships with a 6:39 (which includes drinking 4 beers).

And while I'd even started to place higher, and in some cases even win, some smaller local races, I still felt a bit like an imposter. Sure, I was thrilled when I won the Ruth Anderson 50k last year in a time of 3:47:06. And yes, I was ecstatic when I finished the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 last year in under 24 hours, placing in 9th overall with a time of 23:19:20. But even with my recent 3:04:39 marathon performance at a very hilly Oakland marathon, I still felt like I wasn't a real runner because I haven't run sub 3:00 or faster.

Ok, enough of this self doubt shit! Yes...granted I still have some things on my running checklist that I would like to accomplish one day -- like running a sub 3 hour marathon, bringing home a Western States silver buckle, and winning the Silicon Valley Beer Mile Championships. But this past weekend at the Ohlone 50K I ran the perfect race, from start to finish. No, I didn't win (I finished in 2nd place, 6 or 7 minutes behind four-time winner Jean Pommier), but it was the best race I've ever run. And I came out of the those hills with a lot less emotional baggage -- and more importantly -- with a sense of peace, confidence, and acceptance. Yes, I am a runner. A real fucking runner!


The Actual Race Report...

"You've got to be an artist to take on this mountain." -- from the 1986 cult running film, "On The Edge"

I've written in previous years' Ohlone race reports about how special this race is to me. Partially because, as an American Indian myself, the connection I feel with this land where the Ohlone Indians once lived, and presumably ran. And I assume part of my attraction is also based on the sheer toughness of the course -- 31 miles, point-to-point, over some of the steepest, toughest hills in the area, with very little shade and extremely high temperatures. Extreme suffering. Oh, and lots of rattlesnakes. You don't necessarily need to be an "artist" to take on this course, but it probably helps to be a little crazy.

Share the trails dude!

During the past months I'd made no secret of the fact that I wanted to do well at the 2013 Ohlone race which was going to be held on May 19, the very same day as my 40th birthday! I told anyone who would listen (and the 6 or 7 people who regularly read my blog) that I was going to crush it. Every time I ran any hill in a training run I would visualize myself running the hills of Ohlone. I think I annoyed my wife for months on end by constantly coming home from training runs and proclaiming that I was definitely going to win Ohlone this year. A guy can dream, can't he!

Last year I ran a great race at Ohlone, lowering my personal best on the course to 5:28:45. And I did it coming off three weeks of no running due to a piriformis syndrome injury that mysteriously vanished the day before the race, as if a sign from God. Who knows, maybe the 3 week extreme "taper" helped. Hey, at least my legs were fresh.

This year I did the exact opposite. I didn't taper at all --- running 18 miles, 10 miles, and 10 miles the three days before the race. In fact, I came into the race on tired legs having run my three highest mileage weeks ever: 101 miles, 120 miles, and 93 miles the three weeks leading up to the race. Basically I'm trying to win this "Massive May" contest on Strava.com and to also get some good mileage on my legs before Western States 100 coming up at the end of June.

Race start (I'm tucked in just behind/left of #1 Jean Pommier)
photo courtesy Jean Pommier

I arrived late to the starting line and unfortunately missed the Quicksilver team photo. I had just enough time to pee in the bushes and rub a little sunscreen on my shoulders before the gun went off. My plan had been to go out hard on the mile and half long steep opening climb, ideally tucking in behind course-record holder Leor Pantilat if possible. However, much to my surprise, Leor wasn't at the starting line.

I quickly found myself running on the shoulder of teammate Jean Pommier. I was hoping that he would set a good pace on the climb, but he seemed to be content to take it out easy. "Fuck it" I said to myself as I accelerated past him into the lead. He quickly jumped on my shoulder and the two of us opened up a slight lead on Enrique Henriquez in third place, and a pretty decent lead on the rest of the field.

As soon as we crested the top of the first climb and hit the singletrack, Jean pulled up next to me. I informed him that today was my 40th birthday and that I wanted to run a strong race. I also tipped my hand and announced that if possible, I was going to try and beat him. He promptly stepped on the gas and immediately opened up a hundred yard lead. That was the last I would ever see of him until the finish line :(

I continued chasing Jean, in vain, on the climb up to Mission Peak. I caught site of him on the downhill and he seemed to already have a quarter mile lead. I decided at that point to stop chasing and to back off the pace a bit in order to save my strength and try to defend my position in 2nd place.

Somewhere near the bottom of the descent Enrique caught up to me and we started talking and running together. I knew that Enrique had great leg speed as I'd seen him win Ruth Anderson earlier in the year, running much faster than I had run when I won the race the year before. However, based on the fact that he'd fallen a bit back on the initial climb, unable (or unwilling) to hang with me and Jean, I wasn't sure how strong he would be in the hills.

Enrique and I stuck together for the next few miles with him setting the pace on the flats and downhills, and me taking point on the climbs. We were moving well, but suddenly I looked back and saw two runners gaining on us! I recognized the yellow shirt of Franz Dill, a talented runner who absolutely crushed Lake Sonoma 50 Mile earlier this year. I told Enrique that I wasn't going to wait around to get caught -- time to make my move!

Making my move up Rose Peak

I cranked up the pace on the climb up to Rose Peak, virtually running everything including the steep hills that I'd always walked in my 5 previous Ohlone runs. At the turn-around loop on top of the mountain I saw that I had bout a 7 minute lead on the three man chase pack of Ian Torrance, Franz Dill, and Enrique Henriquez. Seeing the chase group gave me a little shot of adrenaline and I cranked up the pace and started really hammering.

After that point I would basically run the last 12 miles on my own, never seeing another runner until I crossed the finish line. I crushed the last section of the course, running everything including the steep climb out of the river crossing. In past years I always suffered on this climb, usually hobbled with leg cramps and often having to stop and catch my breath in the few spots of shade available on the climb. This year the climb felt almost effortless and I was able to do the whole climb while breathing through my nose.

I got bit of encouragement at the mile 26 aid station when I was informed that Jean Pommier had fallen hard and had injured his toe and was slowing down. At one point he had built a 13 - 15 minute lead on me, so I doubted that I would be able to claw it all back with just a 10K to go. But nonetheless I shoved a couple of gels into my mouth and shifted into top gear. I really pushed it hard, running the last 3 miles in 7:05, 6:43, and 6:37. I was killing it! But alas it wasn't enough.

2nd place overall!
photo courtesy of Jean Pommier

I crossed the finish line in 2nd place, in 5:01:15. My fastest time on this course by nearly half an hour! And to top it off, I didn't feel particularly spent. No leg cramps. No leg fatigue. Aside from the hard effort on the last few miles and the finishing sprint (trying to see if I could go under 5 hours), the majority of the run felt pretty effortless!

Even though I didn't come home with the win, I felt like I had put forth a "winning effort". I ran smart, and I ran strong! I ran the easy hills, I ran the hard hills. I even ran the un-runnable steep hills. I ran all that shit! This was probably the best race I've ever run. And now, I can finally say, without any caveats or asterisks, I'm a real runner.

Happy 40th birthday to me! 2nd place overall.

Crossing the finish line, exhausted and out of breath, but with the biggest, goofiest smile on my face I collapsed to the ground. As I lay there on the grass in a state of euphoria listening to my 6 year old express disbelief that I had intentionally pee'd my pants several times during the race, I had never been happier.

It was great being able to share my great race with my wife Amy and my son John Paul, both of whom were on hand with birthday cards, presents, balloons, beer and cake to help me celebrate my breakthrough run. It took 40 years, but it was worth it!



Here's some links to a few other good Ohlone race reports from this year.
Jean Pommier: http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com/2013/05/ohlone-50k-2013-thank-you-leor.html
Franz Dill: http://dillweedrunner.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/ohlone-50km-21-seconds-to-3rd/
Jeremy Johnson: http://jrjohnsonyarb.blogspot.com/2013/05/ohlone-50k-2013-race-report.html
Kyria: http://travelspot06.blogspot.com/2013/05/ohlone-50k.html

2013 Quicksilver 50 Mile Race Report

Let me just say, "Massive May".

Ok, perhaps some further explanation is required. While I knew in the back of my mind that I had Western States 100 coming up this summer at the end of June, I was having too much fun riding and racing my bicycle(s) to really worry about ramping up my running mileage to get ready for Western States.

Then suddenly, as the month of April came to a close, I realized that I had less than two months to go before Western States, and I was still only averaging a meager 20 - 30 miles a week running! Oh shit! Panic suddenly set in.

Then, as if by coincidence (or perhaps an act of God), my favorite Web site, Strava.com, issued a challenge to athletes across the world to see who could run the most kilometers in the month of May. A dim flickering light bulb suddenly lit up in the back of my head. What if I were to throw my hat (er... running shoes) into the ring and try to win this Massive May challenge? Wouldn't that be just what I needed to get ready for Western States?

So, an idea was hatched. A bold-aggressive-foolish-idiotic idea. I announced my intentions to my wife: I'm going to retire from bike riding for the month of May and run myself into the ground. She rolled her eyes, mumbled something about me being an idiot, and walked off. Ok, so now she was onboard :)

My plan was to try and average 18 miles or so a day, with a long(ish) 10 - 14 mile run each morning or afternoon, and then a shorter 4 - 6 mile run in the evening. And of course I would throw in a few ultras during the month on weekends.

Quicksilver 50 Mile

The first week of "Massive May" went well, with me running my first ever 100+ mile week of 101 miles. It was a tough week with absurd amounts of running, eating, napping and whining. I would routinely fall asleep during the middle of the day at my desk while working. And I don't think I ever stopped eating. So many carbs. So many calories. Beer. Ice cream. Whatever it took to dull the pain!

The second week posed a bit of a conundrum however. I had a 50 mile race coming up that Saturday. Normally I would taper and take a couple of days off. However, I was locked in a heated battle for first place in the Massive May challenge with Lord Didsbury or Manchester, an Englishman who is both a sub 2:30 marathoner and a respected member of the British House of Lords. He is also an avid and prolific smack talker.

I came into Quicksilver exhausted and with tired legs. It probably didn't help that I slept in the trunk of my Mustang GT the night before the race in the parking lot. But hey, I was the first one in line for the porto-potties in the morning and I got a prime parking spot right next to the post-race BBQ and beer garden. It's all about location, location, location.

Shit hits the fan!

The race started and I went out at an aggressive but controlled pace. I knew it was going to be a long hot day and I didn't want to burn my legs (or what was left of them) out early. And then just 4 miles into the race disaster struck. My left hamstring cramped up an I had to stop, stretch and jog tentatively for a bit, unable to push the pace. This continued for the next 6 miles. Bouts of stopping, stretching, and jogging until the cramping subsided.

At least a dozen other runners passed me. Things were looking bleak. But I vowed that I was going to tough it out and finish the race -- partially as training for Western States, but more importantly, to add some miles to my Strava Massive May challenge in order to take the lead!

Out of sheer desperation I popped a 12-hour Aleve and ate as many bananas as my stomach would allow. I figured pain killers and potassium might help with the cramps. And it did! Suddenly the cramping went away and I was able to run again. It was getting hot and the course was getting hilly. While other runners were already walking the hills just a couple hours into the race, I was able to attack the hills with (relatively) fresh legs.

Back from the dead!

I started passing people. Lots of people! I caught up and passed teammate Mark Tanaka and buddy Chris Eide on the climb up Mine Hill. And then I caught up to teammate Dan Decker just before the 50K aid station. Things were feeling great. I tried to get in and out of the aid station as quickly as possible, since this is where I dropped the last time I attempted the Quicksilver 50 Mile back in 2011.

Things were still feeling reasonably well as I headed out into the next section of the course -- the section with the really steep hills. I decided to power hike the hills instead of running to conserve energy. It proved to be a wise move as the temperatures were moving up into the high 80's.

As I ran into the Hicks/Wood's Road aid station I saw my wife Amy and my son John Paul, which lifted my spirits. The aid station was being run by Quicksilver teammates Scott Laberge and Clare Abram. And while I was too out of it to appreciate it at the time, they had painstakingly decorated the aid station to look like a vintage auto garage. Pretty cool!

 I suffered through the next 4 mile uphill section to the turn around, where I got to see all other runners in front of me making their way back including race-leader Chikara Omine and teammate Jean Pommier in third place (Jean would later move up and finish in 2nd). I was surprised to see that I had moved all the way up into 8th place!

The Finish

Fueled by encourage (and an orange popsicle) from teammate Andy Benkert at the Sierra Azul aid station turnaround I picked up the pace and caught another runner on the way down the mountain. I breezed through the Hicks/Woods Road aid station happy to see Amy and John Paul again, and set off to cruise the last 4 or 5 miles to the finish line.

I felt great and pushed the pace a bit on this last section of the course, running all the hills (including a couple of steep ones). I momentarily had dreams of trying to sprint in under 8 hours, but I came up a bit short and finished just a couple of minutes over in 8 hours and 2 minutes for 7th place overall. A fine effort to cap a 120 mile week!

Santa Cruz Half Marathon

Going out hard!

I'm a few weeks late posting this report, but better late than never I suppose. I was waiting for the race photos to be posted online. But after waiting for weeks, we runners were informed that the official race photographer never showed up on race day. WTF!

So... here's my late and abridged race report with no photos. Super exciting, I know.

My buddy Joe Bistrain was supposed to meet me at the start area before the race to warm up. But Joe apparently overslept, or spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom dealing with an over fibrous breakfast, or was too cheap to pay for parking in downtown Santa Cruz and had parked several miles away in a residential neighborhood. Whatever the excuse, he showed up at the starting line a minute after the race start. Luckily for Joe, the race was delayed a few minutes while police were clearing the course.

John and Joe post race

Once the race got started, I went out hard, but not overly aggressive. After a few miles I tried picking up the pace a bit to see how my legs were feeling. The answer, unfortunately, was not great. My legs just felt dead and unresponsive. Perhaps I wasn't fully recovered from the hard marathon I had run in Oakland two weeks before (were I broke my marathon PR by 8 minutes). Or perhaps my legs were still feeling the effects of the hard track workout I had done earlier in the week.


In any case I decided to back off the pace and just cruise along at a tempo run pace. I let a few people pass me around mile 7 or 8, but for the most part I ran pretty steadily and strong. As I approached the finish line on the beach I threw in a desperate sprint trying to finish in under 1:25, just missing and coming in 21st place at 1:25:11. While not as fast as I hoped to run, I still managed to take over 2 minutes off my half marathon PR. So I probably shouldn't complain!

Afterwards I met up with my buddy Joe (who ran a 1:28:01) and grabbed some coffee and breakfast  nearby restaurant on the pier by the beach. Not a bad way to start a great day!

2013 Oakland Marathon

"Gummy Bear Cadillac" at Oakland Marathon
Photo by Scott Dunlap

City of Oakland

Prior to running the Oakland Marathon last weekend, the only thing I knew about Oakland was what I'd pieced together from watching Too Short videos during the 90's.

So I went into the race completely expecting that someone might try to jack me for my running shoes, or that at the very least I would have to run through a group of pimps in fur coats playing craps on the street corner drinking 40's of St. Ides. But no...

I must say I was quite impressed by Oakland – the race, the city, and the community. At no point did anyone shoot at me! And, I was only accosted once or twice by crazy disheveled-looking homeless dudes mumbling to themselves (Or who knows, maybe they were just unshaven hipsters singling along to their favorite Bon Iver songs).

And no... if you're wondering I did not stop and eat any of the "free gummy worms" from the strange looking folks driving the white Cadillac pictured above. But who knows, maybe some LSD infused gummy worms would have helped?


A Brief Digression (I Want to Run Boston)

I guess I probably need to answer some basic questions before we go any further. Like, “What the heck were you doing running the Oakland marathon? Aren’t you this fancy trail snob who turns up his nose at running sidewalks and bike paths? And what’s with this wimpy marathon nonsense anyway? I thought you were supposed to be some bad-ass ultra-marathoner who doesn’t bother to put on his shorts for anything less than 100 miles? And Oakland, of all places, really? Why not some place safer and more scenic, like Compton?

It’s true, I confess… I’m not particularly fond of running on pavement, running in cities, or running races with thousands of other pedestrians. I prefer the solitude, serenity, and beauty of running alone in the mountains or forests. But I must also confess, it is rather embarrassing when I tell people that I’m this crazy obsessed long-distance running nut job and then they ask the obligatory questions, “Oh, you’re a runner? What’s your marathon PR? Have you ever done Boston?”

Ah yes, Boston. There’s actually something about the Boston marathon that calls to me. It’s steeped in history and tradition, with stories about Frank Shorter and Bill “Boston Billy” Rodgers. And as if by fate, my wife Amy grew up in Hopkinton, the small city 26 miles outside of Boston where the race start. She’s run Boston numerous times and still has family in Massachusetts, including an uncle who still lives in Hopkinton just blocks from the start of the race. So it’s the perfect destination race for us.

And there’s also the small matter of revenge. The first (and only) time I have run Boston, I cramped up after the hills of Newton and ended up hobbling the last 6 miles. It was one of my slowest marathons ever (though I did enjoy chugging a beer with some college kids at mile 24). While I struggled, my wife had a great race that day and ran a PR (beating my time by 5 minutes). And it was frustrating to watch my buddies Hermann and Bill run by while I was forced to walk, unable to run the last few miles with them.

I’ve always wanted to get back to Boston for a shot at redemption. So when my buddy Bill Pritchett, who’s run Boston every year for the past few years invited us to join him and some buddies in 2014, I looked at the running calendar and picked the first Boston qualifier I could find that fit into my schedule. “Oh, there’s a marathon in Oakland. Cool, sign me up”.


Skip Here to Read... The Actual Oakland Race Report

Caitlin Smith and I showing off our abs
Photo by Scott Dunlap

I arrived in Oakland about half an hour before the start of the race, quickly found parking, used the bathroom without having to wait in any line, dropped my warm clothes off at the bag check area, and walked to the starting line. While not a small race, with about 900 entrants in the marathon, Oakland isn’t an overly large race either. I was impressed with how well organized and smooth everything was.

As I made my way towards the front of the pack at the starting line I saw some familiar faces including Caitlin Smith (one of the favorites in the women’s race) with whom I had just done a track workout a few days before, as well as local ultra-runner and part-time roadie Scott Dunlap (who finished 5th overall at Oakland last year). A few photos, a little chit chat, and we were off and running.

I went out conservatively, or at least what felt like a conservative pace. And while the first mile was downhill, I was still surprised when I looked at my watch and saw that I’d run a 6:00 first mile. I consciously backed off the pace a bit, slowing down to a 6:30 second mile. I felt good, but I was worried that I was going out a bit too fast as my pre-race plan called for me to average about 7:00 pace.

Flying along

Luckily the next 8 miles were all up hill and my average pace slowly fell to about 6:55 as I logged a couple of 7:20 and 7:30 miles on the climb up the hills of Montclair. When we reached the top at mile 10, I tried to stretch out my legs a bit with a 6:00 minute mile on the steep downhill.

That’s when I felt the all too familiar sharp pain in my right calf, an issue I have been struggling on and off with for quite a while. I backed off the pace a bit, hoping that if I slowed back down to 7:00 minute miles I could get through the race without (re)injuring myself.

The rest of the race went pretty smoothly. It was really just a matter of keeping my feet moving and grinding it out. When I finally made my way out of the residential neighborhoods and turned on to the bike path around Lake Merritt for the final two miles, I was definitely hurting a bit.

And although I slowed down a bit to slightly over 7 minute per mile pace, I guess everyone else was hurting just as bad if not worse, as I was able to reel in 2 or 3 runners who had been in front of me all day.

Finishing kick

As we made the final turn into the downtown business district and up the steep hill toward the finish line I sprinted the last quarter mile as hard as I could, trying to make sure I finished in 3 hours and 5 minutes or less – which would hopefully ensure that I get into Boston in 2014.

After crossing the finish line in 3:04:39, I collapsed on the ground for about thirty seconds. Then I got up nonchalantly, collected my finisher’s medal and proceeded to ravenously devour two cartons of Dole pineapple fruit cups at the food table. The guy from Dole was seemed to love this. He took quite a few photos and posted one on Dole's Facebook page.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that in addition to taking over 8 minutes off my official marathon PR, I'd also finished quite well in 16th place overall and 4th in my age group!

I caught up with Caitlin afterwards at the beer tent and learned that she had finished 2nd woman and in the top 10 overall in 2:56:14 behind women’s winner Devon Yanko (Crosby-Helms) after struggling a bit in the last miles. Devon had apparently had a great race and crushed the women's course record by seveal minutes with her 2:47:24.


New marathon PR 3:04:39

I also ran into a few other ultra-runners including Mark Tanaka, Ron Duncan, and Sarah Lavender-Smith, all of whom had run the race as official pacers. I didn’t get a chance to talk with Scott Dunlap after the race, but I heard that he'd also run very well, finishing 6th in 2:53:42. Click to here to read his great race-reap.

While I originally only signed up for Oakland to get a Boston qualifier, I really enjoyed the race and am actually thinking about doing it again next year in 2014 as a Boston tune-up. With over 800 feet of climbing in the first 10 miles, it is a hilly course that suits me well. 

And after running those kinds of hills, hopefully “Heartbreak hill” won’t ever kick my butt again!

Red Rock Canyon Half Marathon

Red Rock Canyon with snowy peaks

Welcome to Vegas

When you hear the words "Las Vegas" the first thing that comes to mind probably isn't mountains or snow. Fat guys dressed like Elvis? Sure! Casinos shaped like the Eifel Tower, Statue of Liberty, or a giant Pyramid? Check! But, there's actually more to Las Vegas than all-you-can-eat buffets and drive-thru wedding chapels. Drive just ten miles outside of town, and you will find yourself in the beautiful Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

This was the second straight year that I was able to run the Red Rock Canyon half marathon put on by Calico Racing. I'd first run the race last year in 2012 while in town visiting my family (my mother and two brothers both live in Vegas). This year the race date luckily happened to coincide with a business trip that brought me into town for a work conference.

Erik and Matthew

Last year I ran the race on my own, but this year I managed to talk my friend Bill Pritchett into staying after the conference and running the race with me. Bill lives in Michigan, so the only time we usually get to run together is at work conferences. When I described Red Rock Canyon to him I vividly described the beautiful, breath-taking scenery. However, what I omitted to describe was the tough, breath-taking hills that climb to over 5,000 ft elevation!

Also, this year my brother Erik and my nephew Matthew Rice were hinting that they might show up and give the race a go themselves. While most people who sign up for this race are experienced veteran half-marathon runners with years of racing and training under their belts, neither Erik nor Matthew had done much, if any, half-marathon specific training. Matthew plays soccer. Erik ran the 800 meters in highschool and played college football. But soccer fields and tracks don't have 2,000 ft hills!

Mean Mugging


Bill and I got to the race early, with plenty of time to warm up, use the bathroom, pose for pictures, and most importantly -- take our shirts off and strut around intimidating the competition. It was cold out with temperatures hovering just above freezing beneath the snow-capped mountains. But frozen nipples are a small price to pay for getting inside the head of your competition.

As the race was about to start, Bill and I made our way to the front of the pack. Erik and Matthew were still nowhere to be seen. I'd later learn that they were still in the bathroom, having just arrived at the last minute, as the starting gun went off.

Last year I had made the mistake of going out a bit too aggressively, trying to stay with the race leaders in the early miles. This year I vowed to go out more conservatively, hanging back in around 10th place for the first few miles. Then, if I still felt good once we got into the hills, I would pick it up and try to reel in as many people as possible during the remainder of the race.

Surprisingly, I managed to stick to my plan. Even when I got passed by the lead woman a mile into the race I told myself not to worry about getting chick'd. "You're still in 8th place," I told myself. I was optimistic that I would hopefully catch and drop quite a few people once we got up into the hills.

Studying the runners ahead of me, I picked out a couple of guys who I expected to crack soon including a couple of bigger guys who seemed to already be working too hard (and breathing and sweating too hard) this early in the race.

By mile 3 I found myself up in 5th place. The lead runner, a guy in blue, had already opened up a sizable lead and was moving out of sight. But runners 2, 3, and 4 were all running together in a pack, just a fifty yards or so ahead of me. Sizing them up, I figured I should be able to beat at least 2 of the 3. That would put me on the podium in the top 3 overall -- my secret goal going into the race.

Holding on for Life

As we approached the steep hill before the halfway point I quickly reeled the group in and moved up into second place. "Sweet" I thought, "maybe if the lead runner cramps up or gets hit by a bus you can win this thing". But the celebration was short lived. As I glanced back behind me, I saw that one of the three guys I had passed earlier was clawing back distance and pulling back up to me.



Grimacing at the finish line

I tried every trick in the book to drop him. As soon as he caught up to me and slowed down to catch his breath I attacked with a surge. And when that didn't shake him, I tried altering the pace with a short burst of speed followed by a lull, and then another burst. But nothing worked. And then he counter attacked me! And it was all over. We had just run a 5:50 mile at mile 10 of the race and I just couldn't match the 5:30 pace he was throwing down.

As I watched him pull away building a 1:20 lead over the last 3 miles, I resigned myself to third place. But even that was going to take a fight. As I looked back, another runner in a yellow shirt was charging hard and closing on my 30 second lead. My legs were on the verge of cramping and I wanted to quit. That's when my mother drove by in her car cheering me on -- giving me just enough extra encouragement to keep moving.

I held on for 3rd place and managed to run a half marathon PR of 1:27:21, about 8 minutes faster than the 1:35 I ran on the same course last year! I was also pleasantly surprised to learn that I was the top American finisher, as the two guys who finished in front of me were from Ireland and Great Britain. Here's the official results.

3rd place overall, first American!

My buddy Bill Pritchett finished not long after me, in 1:45, claiming 2nd place in his 50-55 age group and taking home one of the coveted hand-made sand-stone awards! Erik and Matthew both finished as well, despite their lack of training, and crossed the finish line looking strong in around 2:20 (with a 2:19 chip time). So it was a great day for everyone!

Overgrown Fat Ass 50K Race Report: A Duel to the Death in the Mountains, Peeing my Pants, and Getting Drunk on Moonshine

This event was crazy from the start!
Photo by Jean Pommier

Where the hell do I start?

Let's start with the fact that I'm running Western States this year! Woo hoo! I was amazingly fortunate to receive an automatic entry into the Western States 100 Endurance Run this year thanks to my Quicksilver Running Club. Each year the club hosts the Duncan Canyon aid station  at mile 24. Therefore we get an automatic entry each to be raffled off among club. And this year I was selected as the club's designated runner!

So, you'd think that Western States would be my main focus this year, my A race, my basket in which I'm putting all my eggs. But oddly, while I'm looking forward to Western States and certainly want to do well, it is actually the Ohlone 50K, held on my birthday (May 19th) that dominates my thoughts. Ohlone is the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night. When I'm out on a hard training run suffering, it's Ohlone that keeps me motivated. "If you want to crush Ohlone, you need to attack this hill!".

OK, so back to the title of this post... the Overgrown Fat Ass 50K. Every year, the Sunday after the Super Bowl, Quicksilver teammates Adam Blum and Sean Lang organize a small, informal 31 mile jaunt through the mountains. The run starts in Los Gatos and runs up and over Mount El Sombroso via Limekiln and then drops down Woods Road  into Almaden Quicksilver County Park... where we turn around at English Camp and then run back the way we came, back up and over the mountain.

Since this is a "Fat Ass" run and not an formal, organized permitted race, there are no aid stations. However, Adam and Sean's wives do hang out at the Woods Road parking lot with a few jugs of water, an assortment of delicious foods and snacks, and -- for those who are brave/foolish enough to partake -- an adult beverage or two. Each year the parking lot buffet has a different theme such as Irish Pub, Mexican Cantina, or as was the case this year, Cops & Robbers (aka moonshine bootleggers).

Cops and Robbers themed aid station

This event is really just an excuse to log a few early-season miles, get a little "sloppy" in the mountains, and have fun with some good friends. No one really goes out intending to hammer it like a real race. Well, no one except me perhaps. But I've got a good reason. Each February, I like to use the Overgrown Fat Ass as a tune-up race for Ohlone in May. While Overgrown has only 6,000 ft of elevation (compared to the 8,000 of Ohlone), they are both extremely tough courses with lots of hilly and exposed fire trails.

I'd done a fair share of smack talking the days leading up to the event, announcing how I was planning to run hard and hopefully drop everyone. However, I knew that was going to be tough to impossible when I saw that Christopher Wehan (who finished 4th this year at Miwok 100K) was planning to run. My plan was to go out ridiculously hard, hoping that everyone else would go out at an easy conversational pace, allowing me to grab an insurmountable early lead.

I hammered the hell out of the early miles, racking up numerous Strava CRs (Course Records) in the early miles. But when I glanced back over my shoulder at mile 5, my worst fears were confirmed. Chris was running hard and reeling me in. I continued to push the pace to the top of the mountain, and then down the other side.

At one point, I even intentionally peed in my pants (a proud first for me) rather than losing time by stopping or slowing down to pee. This pants-peeing came in the middle of 5 mile section where I averaged 6:38 pace down the mountain. I didn't even break stride whilst wetting myself. And yes, it was gross. But yes, my shorts (and left sock and shoe) all quickly dried again within minutes. I think I remembered to wash them afterwards???

Chris Wehan taking it easy on me for a few miles!
Photo by Jean Pommier

Chris finally caught me at mile 14, just after he and I both flew through the make-shift parking lot aid station without stopping. As soon as he caught me, I gave up and was ready to call it a day. I thought about walking back to the parking lot and hitching a ride back to Las Gatos in my wife's car. But Chris was a gentleman and slowed down enough that I could jog with him for the 5 mile out-and-back section before we returned to the parking lot.

And now for the part where I foolishly drink Apple Pie Moonshine at the aid station and then stumble around the mountain for the next 45 minutes on wobbly legs. Chris, who I think also drank a shot of moonshine (or at least ate a moonshine-soaked strawberry) picked up the pace at this point and ran off up the mountain. I jogged leisurely, stopping a couple of times to use the bathroom. Eventually, after about 45 minutes, I started feeling good again and picked the pace back up. But it was too late... Chris was long gone.

I hammered the last few miles and finished in 4:21:23, about 8:37 average pace. This was nearly 40 minutes faster than my 4:59:20 winning time from two years ago. In fact, I think it might actually be the fastest trail 50K that I have ever run! Now, if I can only duplicate that at Ohlone in May :)

The Marathon That Took an Entire Week to Finish!

I'm unfortunately not a particularly fast marathoner. And while I am convinced that I should be able to crack 3 hours, my current marathon PR is actually only just 3:09 or so. Nonetheless, I was shocked when it took me an entire week to finish my latest marathon! Here's the catch... I ran it on the installment plan.

On Saturday, December 8th, I ran the Summit Rock half marathon in Saratoga. The following Saturday, December 15th, I ran the Hoover Dam half marathon, outside Las Vegas. So, two half marathons... a week apart. Combine them, and I it took my an entire week to run one (relatively slow) marathon.


Summit Rock (Trail) Half Marathon

Beautiful Sanborn Skyline County Park

The Summit Rock trail half marathon, put on by Brazen Racing, takes place at one of my favorite trails in the San Francisco Bay Area -- Sanborn Skyline County Park. This place is a real hidden gem. The park is hidden away among the Redwoods at the foot of the Santa Cruz mountains, on a little traveled road just outside downtown Saratoga.

I have a season parking pass to the park, so I try to run there as often as possible to recoup my investment. However, to be honest, unless you go on a weekend you rarely need a pass as the park is usually completely empty during the week with nobody working the entrance booth. So I was pleasantly surprised two years ago when Brazen Racing announced that they would be holding an event at the park.

Trying to intimidate the competition with my physique

I ran the inaugural 1/2 marathon at Summit Rock in 2010 and finished in second place, with a time of 1:50:05, a few minutes ahead of the third place guy, but over ten minutes back of race winner Lon Freeman. I didn't run the race in 2011 due to a scheduling conflict, but looking at the results I noticed the first and second place runners from 2011, both of whom ran faster times than me, were also on the entrants list for this year. Considering that I was just getting back into shape and not yet in peak form, I knew it was going to be difficult to try and get up on the podium this year.

Trying to muster "good form" for the camera

I decided to go out conservatively, reasoning that if I restrained myself on the first four miles (which were all uphill), I would have more energy left to run the last four downhill miles hard -- and hopefully reel in as many front runners as possible. It was a great plan... but the execution fell a bit short. I did manage to pass several other runners during the last few miles but ultimately I ran out of real estate (and energy), finishing in 4th place just off the podium. My time of 1:50:49 was 46 seconds slower than my PR from two years prior, but not too shabby for a guy who has only been running an average of 15 miles a week.


Hoover Dam (Trail/Train Tunnel/Bike Path) Half Marathon

Hoover Dam

Having never seen the Hoover Dam before, I was excited when I learned that Calico Racing was going to be running a race from Lake Mead to the Hoover Dam and back the same weekend that I was going to be traveling to Las Vegas!

Looking at the course profile, I had no idea what kind of finishing time or average pace to expect. The course seemed to be comprised of a combination of grades and surfaces including a few miles of hilly paved bike path, several miles of wide dirt road that passed through six or seven mountain tunnels (that used be part of a railway line), with a few flights of winding concrete stairs and some parking lot loops thrown in for good measure.

As the race started, I went out with the front runners for the first uphill section. However two strong-looking runners soon went off the front. I glanced down at my watch to see what kind of pace we were doing. Seeing that we were already doing 6:30 pace (for a tough uphill section) I wisely decided not to pick up the pace any further and eased off a little, letting the two front runners go.

Running in the desert

Somewhere around mile 2 I got passed by one runner, and then another. If I wanted to try and finish on the podium with a top 3 spot, I figured I better try and hang with these two guys. And I did. At least for a few miles. However as we approached the mile long uphill climb to the turn-around point at the Hoover Dam, I decided to ease off and run a bit more conservatively. I wanted to make sure I saved something for the way back.

Tunnel vision!

I ran the return section pretty hard, assuming that I was probably gaining on the front runners. So I was quite surprised when another runner caught me from behind, moving fast. I tried to jump in behind him and stay with him, but cranking off a sub 6 minute mile I decided the pace was a little too rich for me.

Just as I was starting to bonk in the last mile I heard the furious horn honks of a passing car and looked over to see my brother Erik and his son Tony cheering me on. I gave everything I had trying to catch a runner about a hundred yards in front of me, but I came up short, finishing 7th overall. However, I did manage to squeeze in just under an hour and a half with a time of 1:29:44. Not bad for a course with over 2,000 feet of vertical gain!