John Gets "Big Wood" at Ohlone 50K Trail Race

I had the pleasure of experiencing "big wood" while running this past weekend at the Ohlone 50K trail race. Now hold on, it's not what you're probably thinking. No, I didn't take some Viagra or another vasodialotor before the race in order to improve the blood flow to my lungs (and other organs). Rather, for the first time in my four attempts at Ohlone, I finished in the top 3 of my age group and came home with the coveted large 4x4 piece of lumber (i.e., "big wood") given to the age group winners instead of the much smaller 1x4 sliver of wood (i.e., "little wood") given to all race finishers.

There I was at the finish line, firmly grasping my enormously large piece of timber with both hands while everyone stared in awe. I couldn't have been any prouder. What a day! Not only did I take 3rd in my age group, but I finished 10th overall and ran 5 minutes faster than I had ever run on this particular course before. Here's a link to the official results. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning...

I'd gone to sleep ridiculously early the night before, climbing into bed around 8:30 pm (which felt so wrong considering that it was still completely light out). But when my BlackBerry started chirping at 4:45 am I actually felt pretty well rested. There was none of the usual stumbling around in the dark, accidentally kicking the family dog and waking up the whole neighborhood nonsense. No, just some quality time with my good friend and confidant, Don Francisco. He makes a mean Vanilla Nut coffee in case you were wondering.

And of course, as per my usual race morning ritual I meticulously prepared a gourmet breakfast designed to ensure maximum athletic performance: cherry Pop Tarts! Two minutes and four hundred calories later, I was high off my ass on caffeine and high fructose corn syrup. But seriously, don't knock Pop Tarts. NCAA national cross-country champion Adam Goucher swore by them. And hell, check the ingredients, they've got dried cherries and dried apples. So they must be good for you, right? Anyway...

Ohlone is a somewhat unique event, presenting some unique logistical challenges, in that it is a point-to-point race starting in Fremont and ending 31 miles away at Lake Del Valle in Livermore. So while the race itself doesn't start until 8:00 am, you have to be at Lake Del Valle before 6:30 am in order to catch the bus to the starting line. According to Google Maps, it is a 1:15 minute drive from my house. But apparently the Google driving-time estimates are based on the average law-abiding Californian citizen driving a hybrid Prius. But take a wild back-roads Michigan boy in a Ford Mustang with a wicked sugar high, and well... 28 minutes later he's sitting outside the gates of the county park chanting, "open, open, open".

Needless to say, I was the first runner to board the shuttle bus and I snagged a prime front row seat. Not only does sitting up front help keep me from getting car sick, but much more importantly it ensures I will be the first guy off the bus and the first guy in line at the restrooms when we arrive at the starting area. Apparently another guy had the same idea because he sat down next to me in the front row.

As we started talking I soon discovered he was Harris Goodman, a new teammate who had just recently joined our Quicksilver Ultra Racing team. As we chatted, I also learned that Harris is quite the accomplished ultra runner, having completed the Grand Slam of Ultra Running in 2010 (which involves running four of the oldest and more difficult 100 mile races all in the same calendar year including Western States, Vermont, Leadville, and Wasatch Front. Having not yet successfully completed a 100 miler myself I used the opportunity to pick his brain on a variety of topics from hydration best practices to strategies for preventing altitude sickness.

However, once we arrived at the starting area it was every man for himself and I dispensed with the pleasantries and started throwing elbows as I dashed for the front of the Porta Potty line. Luckily the race directors waited an extra ten minutes to start the race, ensuring that all the runners were able to take care of business and find their way to the starting line.

As we stood around waiting for things to get underway I was able to chat a bit with some fellow Quicksilver Racing team members and even pose for some nice group photos. These pre-race photos always turn out so much better than the post race photos were everyone's faces are caked with sweat, dirt, snot, Gu, or who knows what else.

As we were standing there getting ready to start running, I realized that I hadn't really prepared a race strategy or plan for Ohlone. Typically I have some idea beforehand of how I plan to run. Usually it is something along the lines of "Go out easy for the first 10 miles, stay calm and controlled for the next 20, and then pick it up the last 11 miles if you are feeling good". Though to be honest I don't know why I ever bother with putting together a pre-race plan since I invariably always end up throwing out the plan after the first 200 meter and just trying to run with the race leaders.

Today was really no different. Alarm bells should have gone off in my head as I found myself sprinting uphill past my teammate Mark Tanaka (note: Mark is a much faster runner than me and he ended finishing 15 minutes ahead of me). More alarm bells should have gone off as cheering spectators yelled, "you're in 6th place". Eventually the adrenaline wore off around mile 5 and I came to my senses and slowed down, letting Mark and another runner fly off into the distance as we made our way down the backside of Mission peak.

After that, things pretty much became a blur, with the notable exception of mile 8.5 where a bee flew into my sock and stung me on the ankle (which was surprising painful actually) and somewhere around mile 15 where I ran into teammate Chihping Fu who has re-marking the course). Aside from that it was just 5 hours and 30 minutes of running up and down big nasty hills in the Ohlone wilderness area. I pretty much ran on my own the entire way, entertaining myself by reciting my favorite Kid Rock songs.

At one point towards the end of the race my hamstring cramped up as I tried to hop sideways through a partially open cattle gate instead of just taking the time to open it properly and run straight ahead. This caused me to fall to the ground in pain (there may or may not also have been some shrieking, cursing, and rolling around). At this point, I was passed by a guy in a blue shirt who had been consistently running a few hundred yards or so behind me all day. He was courteous and friendly, asking if I needed any salt or sugar pills. So I did my best to be cordial and mumble "I'm OK. Thank you. Have a good one" instead of "Go to hell motherfucker! If I ever see you on the street I'll cut your ass." Did I mention I'm a bit of a sore loser?

Also, at one point Gary Wang came flying by me on a downhill. But honestly, he was moving so fast that I didn't have time to even say hi, much less think of anything menacing to say. Plus Gary is a great guy who does a lot for the sport, so it's hard to hold a grudge against him for making me feel like I was standing still. Nice job Gary!

Anyway, I eventually made it up the last of the hills and then down the extremely steep and extremely painful last two miles of downhill to the finish line. My feet were on fire from the heat generated by the friction of all that downhill running. I was pretty sure at least two of my toenails had already turned black from smashing against the toe box of my shoe. And there were some annoying blisters that would need to be popped. But right now all I could think about was the BBQ and cold Guiness draught beer waiting at the finish line.

With the scent of chicken apple sausage in the air, I hammered the last quarter mile and sprinted into the finishing chute relieve to be done. All in all it had been a good day. I finished. And aside from the one cramping episode I stayed on top of my fluids, salts, and calories pretty well. But somewhere in the back of my mind I was wondering, "This felt pretty hard for just 31 miles. You have a 100 mile race coming up in just over a month. Are you really going to be able to run another 70 miles on top of this?" Hmmm. That's a very interesting question!

To be continued I suppose...

Quicksilver 50M Race Report: Apr 30, 2011

A Shitty Day (Literally)

Running sucks.

Or, maybe I just suck at running.

Or maybe I just had a sucky day.

But however you look at it, things did not go well for me last Saturday, April 30 at the Quicksilver 50 Mile race. In short, I dropped out at the 50k (31 mile) mark after five hours of shitting in the woods, intermixed with a bit of running here and there. Here's my Garmin stats of the run.

But let's take a step back and set the scene. Our protagonist, young (ish) Johnny boy had been training like never before, logging 70 miles a week over the past month (with about 10,000 ft of elevation gain per week). He was quite possibly in the best shape of his life. He was setting new PRs for his regular training runs. He was effortlessly flying up even the steepest, nastiest hills. He was....

Ok, enough of this referring to myself in the third person crap. Let's switch back to first person narrative. Basically, I'd been diligently putting in the work and my training was going great. I was feeling great and poised for a breakout performance at Quicksilver 50, which I hoped would build my confidence and set the tone for my run-up to my 100 miler at the BlackHills 100 in the end of June.

But, as the 18th Century novelist Robert Burns once proclaimed, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." Or perhaps as the American boxer Mike Tyson better explained, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face." Or, in my case, everyone has a plan until their gastro-intestinal tract decides to declare war on the rest of the body by shutting down all normal stomach functions.

I'm not really sure where it all went wrong. Maybe I took too many salt tablets too early on in the race. Maybe I didn't take enough salt tablets (which is inconceivable, considering that I took 13 over the course of 5 hours). Maybe I pushed a bit too hard in the hot weather. Maybe I consumed too much sugar (energy gels and sports drink). Maybe it was that fried chicken I had for dinner the night before (note: it sounded like a good idea at the time). Who knows.

At any rate, I guess we can look at this epic fail as a "teachable moment". While I am a master of the DNF and have dropped out of races for almost every possible reason (dehydration, cramps, fatigue, hypothermia, blisters, boredom, sudden urge to have a cold beer, etc.) this may have been the first time ever that I decided to quit because I had inadvertently lost control of my bowels and shit my pants while running. So, lesson learned. Make sure to pack Imodium AD and a spare pair of clean running shorts on my 100 miler.

Quicksilver Running Club Triumphs. Leor Pantilat Sets New 50 Mile Course Record.

OK, enough about me and my incontinence. Let's switch topics and talk about some of the great performances from the Quicksilver Running Club - Ultra Racing Team in both the 50 Mile and 50K race, as well as the new course record laid down by Leor Pantilat in the 50 Mile race.

The Quicksilver Ultra Racing Team had a great day -- perhaps due in part to the home course advantage. On the men's side, Gary Gelin finished in 2nd place in the 50 mile with a blazing fast time of 6:29:41, beaten only by the phenomenal Leor who crushed the course record with a 6:01:45. Erik Toschi and Dan Decker both placed in the top 10.  On the women's side, Bree Lambert ran away with the race, winning the 50 mile in 8:13:07. 

And in the shorter, "sprint distance" 50K, Quicksilver also put on a strong showing with John Pommier in 2nd with 3:56:19 and Toshi Hosaka taking fourth in 4:00:03 for the men. While on the women's side, Adona Ramos won the 50K race with a 4:56:26, with Miki Yannoni taking third in 5:02:23.

Leor Pantilat setting new course record!

Old Friends and New Friends Finish Their First Ultras

Special congratulations to my buddy and regular training partner Joe Bistrain who ran his first ultra-marathon, finishing the 50K in 10th place with a great debut time of 4:44:36 (only 2 minutes slower than my own debut at Quicksilver back in 2005). Congrats also to Jorge Medina (who I first met a few months ago at Pacifica where he won the marathon while I won the 50K) who finished his ultra-marathon with a very respectable 5:14:19. Nice work Jorge. Looking forward to seeing you at Ohlone 50K or whatever ultra you decide to tackle next!

Joe Bistrain running his first ultra

Jorge Medina running his first ultra

Grizzly Peak 30K Race Report: April 9, 2011

Short version: The Grizzly Peak trail run at Tilden Park had something for everyone, whether you prefer gnarly knee-bashing rocks, treacherous ankle-breaking roots, or evil shoe-swallowing mud pits. More than one runner finished the day with bloody knees and a bloody nose. And some never finished at all (note: the mud pits are currently being searched for lost shoes and human remains).

Long version: If you don't like getting dirty, you probably found yourself in the wrong place this Saturday during the Grizzly Peak trail run held by Coastal Trail Runs at Tilden Park in Berkley. Most of the course was quite dry and very runnable, but the few sections that contained mud were... well, muddy, muddy, muddy.

I'm not talking about a little mud clumping to the bottom of your shoe muddy. And I'm not talking about a few mud puddles that you can tip toe around on the skirts of the trail. I'm talking about the kind of mud that will suck the shoes right off your feet and then belch loudly. The type of mud that will swallow small dogs and toddlers. This mud wasn't natural.

And if the mud wasn't enough of a challenge, the course also offered an assortment of other obstacles and booby traps including a fallen tree branch in the middle of one of the steepest sections of rocky single track. There you are, trudging up a 20 degree incline with your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. Just when you think it can't get any worse, you look up and see a fallen tree limb blocking your path. WTF? Seriously? Damn you Wendell Doman! And guess what, if you are running the 30K or marathon distance, you get to do this section of the course twice. Yea!

And did I mention the rocks, tree roots, and three foot deep ruts? Yep, check, check and check. This trail had them all. I was never more thankful to be wearing my trusty Salomon Speedcross trail shoes, with their knobby mountain-bike tire style treads (see image). So you can imagine my surprise when some young stud blew by me on an extremely rocky descent wearing a pair of Vibrams. I never caught his name, but my hat is off to him!

Those of you who know me or have read my blog before already know that nothing makes me more happy than being completely miserable (out on the trails). So let me stop whining. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea and think that the course was entirely rocky, rooted, rutted, and muddy. No, there was some great stretches of highly runnable trail and fire road, much of which provided beautiful breathtaking views. I didn't have my camera on me so I couldn't take any pictures myself, but here are a nice photo from the Internet that I think does justice to the beauty of the course.

It was a beautiful day and challenging course. I had actually run 24 miles up at Saratoga Gap the day before with my buddy Dr. Joseph Bistrain, so I decided to just do the short-ish 30K (19 mile) distance instead of the marathon. And rather than trying to race hard and potentially contend for a top finish, I took it easy and enjoyed the day. However, I suppose I did get a little competitive towards the end when I found myself coming into the aid station at mile 13 at the same time as Peter Hsia who had been slowly reeling me in over the past few miles by running all of the uphill sections that I was walking. (Peter is a stud and can run almost any hill, no matter how steep). Luckily I was able to put a little time between us by aggressively running the muddy sections with reckless abandon. Again, full credit to my Salomon Speedcross. Those things are animals.

Here's a link to the official results. As you can see, I ended up finishing in 3rd place with a time of 3:00:44, which is about 9:34 pace. Not too shabby for a "recovery" day. Thanks again to Wendell and the folks at Coastal Train Runs for organizing another great event.

The End.

Wooside 50K Race Report: March 26, 2011

Short version: Rain, rain, and more rain. We ran in ankle deep water for 31 miles, and I don't think my feet ever once touched dry land! Yet despite the conditions, and despite not taking in enough calories and bonking in the last few miles I still had a great day and hung on for 4th place in 4:36:00.

Long version: Last weekend on Saturday, March 26 I took part in the Woodside 50K trail event organized by Pacific Coast Trail Run (PCTR). This was essentially the same course as the Crystal Springs 50K course organized by Coastal Trail Runs (CTR) that I had run earlier this year in January. Those of you who read my blog will recall that I had a great race in January, finishing in 2nd place overall with a time of 4:22:08. This time around however the weather, trail conditions, and footing were far worse. Combine the bad weather with a few tactical errors on my part -- i.e., going out to hard the first 5 miles, not taking in enough calories, and wrongly assuming that my Garmin GPS was providing accurate speed/distance data in foul weather -- resulted in a time of 4:36:00 that was 12 minutes slower compared with my great performance in January.

The legendary track and field coach (and Nike founder) Bill Bowerman who once quipped, that, "There is no such thing as bad weather, just soft people." And honestly, I can't agree more. Call me crazy, but I actually love running in cold, rainy, "miserable" weather conditions. Not only does the cold weather and wet conditions keep your body from overheating, but it also makes you feel tough. Which reminds me of one of my favorite cartoons about bad weather. More often than not, I find myself quoting the special forces guy, "I wish it would suck more". Ha ha.

Ironically however, prior to the race I had just returned from Orlando, Florida where the weather was 85 degrees and sunny. But don't get too jealous: I was there for a work conference and spent most of my time inside hanging out with other IT nerds, not lounging by the pool sipping beers (OK, full disclosure: I did manage to sneak out a few times with some buddies for a short run and post-run pool-side beer). So my body was probably a little confused as to what was going on with the drastic weather changes.

Anyway, at the start of the race I was chatting with Will Gotthardt who is a much faster runner than me (he has  run Woodside in 4:08 and 4:09 in previous years). As we stood there at the starting line getting ready for the gun, I kept telling myself, "John, whatever you do, don't try and go out with Will." Of course, the race starts and I find myself trying to stay right on Will's heels for the first few miles. Mistake #1.

I ran the first few miles in a pack of three people including Will and another runner named Cameron Berg (who would later go on to pull away from Will and win the race by about 15 minutes). Here's a picture of Cameron celebrating post race.

So my first mistake was in going out too fast with a couple of guys I had no business running with. But that wasn't the only tactical error I would end up making.

My second mistake is that I failed to take in enough calories during the day. Typically I carry a few energy gel packets (Vanilla Gu) with me. But on race morning I could only find one Gu in my race bag, so I figured I would just stop at aid stations and eat whatever they had available. But as the race went on, I found myself struggling to eat any solid foods that required chewing. As I would attempt to run, chew and breath all at the same time, little bits of uneaten Cliff Shot Blocks would fly out of my mouth with each exhale. So, as a result of not taking in enough calories I found myself slowing down (and even walking) the last 3 (mostly downhill) miles, which I would normally otherwise hammer!

My third mistake was that I wore my Garmin GPS and foolishly assumed it would be providing accurate speed and distance data even though we were running in tree-shrouded canyons on a very cloudy, rainy day. Nothing sucks more than looking down at your watch and wondering why it says you are running much slower than you expect, especially compared to the effort level you are expending. I kept running harder and harder during the first 10 miles thinking that I was only running 9 minute miles (when probably I was actually running sub 8:00 minute miles). So naturally I ended up going out to hard and expending more energy than I had planned. Note to self: If it feels like you are running too fast, you probably are.

Anyway, after losing sight of Will and Cameron I ran virtually all of the race alone, in solitude. However, somewhere around mile 18 I got passed by another runner, who I would later learn was Peter Duyan. I tried to hang with him for a bit, but he was running way too strong. So I settled in at my own pace, content to just try and hold on for 4th place. Luckily no one else passed me and I was able to keep 3 or 4 minutes between myself and the next runner, Judd Haaland.

In conclusion, I guess the takeaway is: 1) don't be an idiot and go out too hard, 2) don't be an idiot and run 31 miles with just one 100 calorie Gu packet, and 3) don't be an idiot and assume a consumer-grade GPS watch is going to work in a tree-shrouded canyon on a cloudy, stormy day. I guess we could further distill those messages down to the more condensed, "don't be an idiot" in general. Now, if only I could remember that advice next time...

Here's a link to the official results: http://www.pctrailruns.com/Results/2011WoodsideMarchResults.pdf.

Montara Mountain 50K Race Report

Short Version: John wins 50K race, sets new course record!

Long Version: This Sunday I took part in the Montara Mountain 50K in Pacifica, CA, organized by Coastal Trail Runs. The weather was ideal: cold, rainy, muddy, and miserable -- just the way I like it! However apparently not everyone else was as excited about the prospect of spending 5 hours or more out in the rain trudging up 7,000 feet of muddy, rocky, treacherous mountain paths. Only a dozen or so runners showed up at the starting line for the 50K race (though the 10K and half marathon races had bigger turnouts). And of those dozen or so, only 10 would go on to finish. So everyone who toughed it out and crossed the finish line could brag that they were a "top 10 finisher". And yes, I did manage to hold off the field for the victory (in 5:08:58). And since it was technically the first time that Coastal Trail Runs has held a 50K event at Pacifica, I also established (by default) a new course record. Woo hoo!

Although I've had a few 2nd place overall finishes lately including Cystal Springs 50K at Woodside in January and Summit Rock 1/2 Marathon in December, this was the first overall race win for me in a couple of years and my first 50K win since back in 2005. So I'm definitely excited. So what if I've actually run 25 minutes faster for essentially the same course back in 2009 at a Pacific Coast Trail Runs event. And so what if my first place finish was actually due, at least in part, to a very small field. A win is a win. And I'm taking it!

I don't want to bore everyone with all the minutiae of just how muddy, rainy, windy and cold it was. I doubt that anyone really cares how many gallons of water I dumped out of my shoes after the race, or how windy it was on top of the mountain, or how many times I narrowly avoided falling in the mud or twisting an ankle on a rocky descent. Suffice to say I was very wet, very muddy, very windy, and that I nearly met with disaster a dozen times or more. But at the end of the day, thanks perhaps to my tiger blood and Adonis DNA, "I'm Winning".

Here's a link to the official race results. And here's my Garmin Connect data that shows the course map, elevation profile, and mile splits.

Snow on the Mountain!

Living in the San Francisco Bay Area, we don't typically get much snow. In fact, the last time it snowed in my town of San Jose was umm... Feb 5, 1976, at least according to local legend. However, once or twice a year (if we are really lucky) we get a couple inches of snowfall up in the surrounding mountains (Mt. Hamilton, Mt. Umunhum, Black Mountain).

The snow usually ony sticks around for a day or two before it warms up and melts, so it's always a special treat to throw on shorts and tee shirt and head up into the mountains to celebrate. It's not uncommon to see grown adults doing snow angels and having snowball fights.

So it was with great excitement that I headed out on Sunday afternoon with my camera in hand to see if I could get up into the mountains before all the precious snow melted. I'd heard from my wife Amy that Sierra Azul had quite a bit of snow on it when she ran her 14 mile loop earlier in the morning. But now it was mid afternoon and already warming up a bit. I'd better hurry! I quickly grabbed my gear. Running shoes? Check! Shorts? Check! Tee shirt? Nah, let's get go topless. Woo hoo!

I decided to drive up to the Wood's Road entrance of Sierra Azul (adjacent to Quicksilver Park) in order to run up the back side of the mountain. This route contains the very steep and rocky section of trail that I'd had to walk up the previous weekend during the Los Gatos Overgrown Fat Ass 50K. I wanted to see if I could actually run the entire 6.5 mile climb on fresh legs, as opposed to last week when I began the climb after already running 18 miles of tough hilly trails. Hopefully the snowline would be up near the 3,000 ft summit, and not on the lower steep, rocky section. The only thing harder than trying to run up a super steep incline with loose gravel and rock footing is trying to run up a super steep incline with loose gave and rock footing in the snow.

Luckily for me, the steep section was indeed snow free and I was able to run the whole thing relatively easily. The snow didn't really start to make it's appearance until the last mile or so. It started off rather dusty but it quickly became ankle deep. I'd worn my Gortex Salomon SpeedCross shoes, which did a good job of keeping my feet and warm and dry. Now, if only I had brought a shirt...

As I was running through the snow, grinning like an idiot and laughing out loud, I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun running. It was a nice reminder to remember to enjoy each run -- and to enjoy each day. Of course, that's easy to say living in California where it stays sunny and warm all winter long, with the occasional rainy afternoon. And yes, I would probably be clinically depressed and heavily medicated if I still lived in Michigan (or anyplace else) where Winter means months of cold, ice, snow, and gray skies. But then again, that's exactly why I moved to California. So suck it ;)



Here is a short video clip that I shot with pocket camera showing some highlights of the run. I hope you enjoy it. And in case you were gonna ask -- no I wasn't cold, and the name of song playing in the background is Jackie Greene - Gone Wanderin'.

4th Annual Overgrown Fat Ass: Race Report

View of Mt. Umunhum from Mt. El Sombroso

Intro: Last Sunday (Feb 13th) I had the pleasure of joining some good friends for the 4th annual running of the Los Gatos "Overgrown" Fatass trail (ultra)marathon. This year the course had been lengthened from 26 miles to 31 miles (50K), making it a true ultra-marathon.

This friendly, by-invitation-only event is organized by Adam Blum and Sean Lang of the Quicksilver-Rhomobile Racing Team. Most of the invited runners are either members (or friends) of the Quicksilver Running Club.

For people who are not familiar with the history of the Fat Ass movement, a Fat Ass is a low-key, loosely-organized run that adheres (more or less) to the mantra, "No Fees, No Awards, No Aid, No Wimps." Typically Fat Ass runs are held early in January -- after everyone has put on a few pounds of adipose tissue in their derriere. This particular Fat Ass event is named in honor of a particularly steep and very technical section of trail called Limekiln on official maps, but which is simply referred to by locals as "Overgrown".

Unlike typical trail ultramarathons that offer aid stations every 5 miles or so, this event has only one aid station -- and you have to run up and over the 3,000 foot peak of Mt. El Sombroso to get there. However the effort is well worth it, because this aid station has an open bar! Run by Sean's wife Heidi, the aid station has a different alcohol theme each year. Last year they poured Guinness and whiskey. This year they were mixing up margaritas and tequila shots!

The Start: The race was scheduled to begin at 8:00 am, but perhaps due to the casual nature of the event, runners were still nonchalantly strolling up to the starting line as Adam was finishing his pre-race instructions, causing for a few minutes delay in getting started as he repeated the directions to make sure no one got lost out there. Going off trail could be deadly. If the mountain lions, rattle snakes or poison oak don't get you -- the illegal marijuana farmers might!

I had invited my buddy and regular training partner Dr. Joeseph Bistrain to join us. Joe and I run and bike ride together a few times a week. He had just done a 50 mile bike ride the day before, so he said he would try to join, but would probably only run 20 miles or so. I figured it would be nice to have some company, even if just for first 10 mile out section. Not just to talk to. But also to increase my odds of successfully fending off a mountain lion attack. But it looked like Dr. Joe was going to be a no show. That is, until he sprinted up to the starting line, nearly out of breath, seconds before the race was about to start.

Eventually everyone showed up, got settled down, and the race began. Adam, Joe, and I quickly found ourselves running out in front as everyone was running very cautiously, wisely saving strength for the long climb up and over Mt. El Sombroso, only to turn around at the bottom of the other side and climb back up and over from the other direction. It was going to be a long day!

I decided to back off a little bit and run my own pace, letting Adam and Joe run ahead a bit. I'd had a bad race two weeks prior where I went out too hard and ended up dropping out of the Jed Smith 50K at mile 16. So I didn't want a repeat performance of that fiasco. Plus my knee had been giving me some troubles lately. So, my plan was to go out slow and easy for the first half, and then try to pick it up and run a negative split on the way back. I think Adam and Joe had the same plan as they seemed to back off a bit and settle into a nice conversational pace, just a few seconds ahead of me.

The Attack: However, as we approached the top of Mt. El Sombroso about 7 miles into the run, Adam suddenly pulled a Lance Armstrong/Alberto Contador/Andy Schleck and launched an awe-inspiring attack at the top of the summit. While Joe and I jogged over the top and took it easy on the downhill, Adam was flying down the mountain opening up a several minute lead. Apparently Adam was looking to win the race -- and to win it early.

Not wanting to abandon my cautious plan of running the first half of the race easy, Joe and I continued to run at a comfortable, conversational pace. However, we approached the 10 mile point turns around as he planned (which will give him his planned 20 miles for the day). Now I was on my own. Instinctively I occasionally start picking it up just slightly, hoping to close down some distance between myself and Adam. Wait, this wasn't the plan. Knock it off. Slow down. I've still got 20 miles to run.

As I approach the aid station at mile thirteen I blow right through. Both my bottles are each still about 1/4 full so I figure they should easily get me through the next 5 miles of relatively easy terrain before I come back to the aid station on the return. More importantly, where the hell is Adam? As the fire road straightens out I can see a quarter mile ahead (or more) and he is no where in sight. However, as I start getting close to the turn around point I see him running up the hill towards me. Ok, so he was just a minute or two ahead.

And as I run into the aid station at mile 18, Adam is still there (chugging down the last of his margarita as I later learn). While a cold beer would have hit the spot, there was no way in hell I was going to drink warm Tequila!. Seriously, who drinks Tequila on a 31 mile run? (I am later informed that fellow runner Mike Mahone drank 5 shots of Tequila at the aid station. WTF? Wow!). I quickly refill my two bottles with water and head back out, trying to see if I can catch Adam.

A few miles go by and then finally I catch a glimpse of a tall, shirtless slim figure striding up the trail. Eventually I finally pull up beside him and then throw in a mock sprint, which he matches. Luckily we both come to our senses and realize that we are not going to be able to run sub 6:00 minute miles up this steep, rocky mountain.

"Ugh, This Sucks": Despite the rumors that were later circulated, I did not actually run a 5:00 mile up the cliff-face of the mountain. It was more like a 15 minute mile. But it hurt as much as any 5 minute mile I've ever run. And yes, at one point I did mumble something to the effect of "Ugh, this sucks" to a group of cub scouts who were coming down the mountain. It didn't help my morale that I had run out of water at that point and had to "wash" down my salt pills with a Gu gel packet. Probably only a peanut butter and dirt sandwhich would have been harder to swallow.

But eventually I made it back up to the peak of Mt. El Sombroso. And then eventually I made it back down to the Limekiln trail head. And eventually I made it back down to the road. And then eventually I made it back up that stupid steep little dirt hill. And then eventually I made it back to the start/finish point at Novitiate park.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I cross the finish line in first place. My final time was 5:01:54. Not quite as fast as I was shooting for (I kinda wanted to go under 5 hours), but not nearly as bad as it could have been. And, looking further on the bright side, I wasn't eaten, bitten, or shot. So a definite win-win all around.

Adam (2nd place, 5:28:00) and John (1st place, 5:01:54)