Monday, September 16, 2013

Headlands 50 Mile; Just Another Day at the Office

Headlands 50 Mile
photo by Gary Saxton
Best Laid Plans...

Wake up. Glare at alarm clock and mumble incoherently. Drink coffee. Drink more coffee. Car pool to the "office". Punch in and zone out all day. Eight hours later, kick feet up and have cold beer. That pretty much describes my day this past Sunday at the Headlands 50 mile race up in Marin.

I signed up for the race a few months ago. I have no idea why I thought it would be a good idea to schedule two hard 50 mile races so close together at the end of a long hard season -- having just run a fast 7:10:23 fifty miler three weeks prior. Probably it had something to do with the fact that my training partner and good friend Joe Bistrain had signed up and would be attempting his first 50 miler (having previously only run two 50Ks). In any case, it was a bonehead move on my part.

Luckily I realized my stupidity, and rather than risk running myself into the ground or getting seriously injured, I made the decision to just use this event as a long training run. Rather than racing all out and pushing myself to near exhaustion for seven to eight hours, I decided not to even bother trying to battle pre-race favorite Karl Schnaitter for the win (it would have been a tall order anyway as he is faster than me and finished about ten minutes ahead of me at the Quicksilver 50 miler back in May).

Instead I planned to go out easy for at least the first twenty miles and then see how the day unfolded. If I was feeling good, perhaps I would pick it up a bit for a few miles and see how many people I could reel in. I definitely wanted to finish in the top 10, and I was hoping for at least a top 5 finish. If I could crack the top 3 and finish on the podium that would be ideal. But I wasn't willing to kill myself and try to outsprint someone down the mountain at the end of the race to do it.

Whoa! 10K of elevation gain in 50 miles!


What Actually Happened...

Thankfully (and somewhat surprisingly) I managed to keep my ego in check and execute my game plan quite well. I held back a bit on the opening steep climb, letting four or five guys run off ahead of me. Then, even more surprisingly, I didn't panic when another ten runners or so passed me during the next ten or twelve miles. I even kept my cool when teammate and buddy Adam Blum pulled up beside me (even though he was supposed to be taking it super easy and saving himself for The Bear 100 coming in two weeks). And I didn't even panic when Joe (who was attempting his first 50) pulled up beside, and then passed me!

I had warned Joe numerous time in the preceding weeks to take it easy on the first loop and to save his strength for the second half of the course, as this race would be 19 miles longer than anything he had ever run before. So when he passed me, breathing relatively hard and sweating profusely so early in the race, I assumed that his race was over and that he'd end up dropping at the end of the first loop at mile 25. Thankfully however Joe eventually settled down a bit and eased off the gas into a more sustainable pace. Nonetheless I was worried that the damage may have already been done.

A perfect day for running
photo by Gary Saxton
After mile twelve people finally stopped passing me and I settled into a nice pace. I wasn't sure exactly what position I was in, but I assumed I was probably somewhere around 15th overall. But I knew it was going to be a long day, and with around 10K of vertical gain during the race, I expected a good number of the front runners to become road kill by the end of the day.

Somewhere around mile twenty, as we made the turnaround at the bottom of the Golden Gate bridge and began our climb back up to the mountain ridge, I began passing other runners rather steadily. Admittedly I had picked the pace up slightly, but I wasn't working that hard and was surprised to be passing so many people so quickly. By the time we hit the turnaround at mile twenty five I think I had moved up to around 5th place!


A Brief Moment of Drama & Despair

As I came into the turnaround point at mile twenty five I got a fairly excited and probably pushed the pace a bit harder than I should of trying to reel a few other runners in on the only real sections of flat runnable road on the course. And suddenly to my dismay, my right calf starting hurting -- really bad. I briefly thought about dropping out and calling it a day. I think the only thing that kept me going was that in case Joe was struggling I didn't want to give him any additional incentive to drop. So I decided to just slow down a bit and see if my calf would feel better (or at least not get any worse). And luckily, dialing back the pace helped and the pain subsided a bit.

Karl Schnaitter and Jean Pommier tearing it up
photo by Gary Saxton
Somewhere along the next ten miles I caught a couple of more runners and moved up into 3rd place. Karl had predictably moved into the lead and was looking strong. He was putting distance between himself and the guy in second place who seemed to be fading hard. While the 2nd place guy still had at least a mile or two lead on me, I was fairly confident that I would reel him in.

On a side note, while I had moved up into 3rd place in the 50 mile race, I was actually still well behind two of the 100 miler runners including fellow Quicksilver teammate Jean Pommier who leading the 100 miler and on course record pace! Jean, who will be moving up into the 50 year old age group next year, is an absolutely amazing runner and I was only slightly embarrassed of the fact he was running twice as far as me and was still kicking my butt!


The Anti-Climatic Conclusion

I kept moving well and eventually reeled in the second place guy, Armando, on the downhill into Tennessee Valley at mile 37. He seemed to be struggling a bit with leg cramp and fatigue. I was still feeling great so I knew that I didn't have to worry about him catching back up to me. At the same time, I also knew that Karl had an insurmountable fifteen minute lead so there was no point in running hard to try and catch him. That was actually fine with me! It was so nice and mentally relaxing to be able to jog the last 13 miles with no pressure to run fast and no fear of getting caught.

Thirteen miles later I crossed the finish line in 8:03:25, securing 2nd place overall, about 16 or 17 minutes behind Karl. I bowed to the crowd at the finish line, collected my winnings, and then lhobbled off to the car in search of my camp chair and ottoman and my pint of Pliny the Elder waiting for me on ice. Not a bad way to relax after a long day of work :)


Friend Joe Bistrain finishing his first 50 miler!
Footnote

My buddy Joe triumphantly sprinted across the finish line in 9:16:23, knocking down his first 50 miler (and qualifying for Western States if he is interested in putting his name in the lottery)!

Our other buddy Adam Blum got in a good training run but wisely called it a day at mile 37, saving himself for The Bear 100 coming up in just two weeks!

And special congratulations to Quicksilver teammate Mark Laveson who won the children's fun run (i.e., marathon) race!


Additional Reading

For a very thorough and detailed account of his 100 mile victory and new course record, check out teammate Jean Pommier's blog and race report here: http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com/2013/09/pctr-headlands-hundred-100-mile.html.

Monday, August 26, 2013

2013 North Country Run 50 Mile Race Report: To Piss Blood or Not to Piss Blood?


North Country Run: Finish With Heart
You're not coughing up blood yet. Hell you're not even pissing blood yet," I mumble encouragingly  to myself. "Come on Big Johnny, pick up the pace. They're coming. It's go time. Drop the f**king hammer! We have to move. We have to move NOW!!!"

It's only mile thirty or so into the fifty mile race, and I hadn't planned to launch my attack for another 10 miles. My original plan was to run the first twenty-five mile lap nice and easy, saving my legs and energy for the second lap when I would pick up my pacer, Bill. Then I hoped to tuck in behind him and cruise for the next fifteen miles of fairly flat runnable trail until we hit the hills. That's where I planned to make my move and unleash everything I had, reeling in the leaders and taking the win!

But things rarely go as planned -- especially when your plans have been thrown together at the last minute in a car ride to the race while running late after having missed your turn and gotten lost. But there I was, jumping out of a moving car as Bill, my buddy/pacer/chauffer/tour-guide/host, honked and swerved his way through a panicked crowd in front of the port-o-potties.

Megan Rieger and the "red shirts" lead the opening charge
I jogged nonchalantly up to the starting line (toilet paper still stuck to my shoe) with fifteen seconds to spare, trying to downplay the beads of sweat on my head and my elevated heart rate and adrenaline levels. I only had a few seconds to glance around and survey the competition. I quickly recognized a few familiar faces from last year, including Megan Rieger who had won the women's race last year and finished fifth overall after leading the early miles. The gun went off, and as expected, Megan sprinted to the front again leading the pack into the woods.

I found myself running in fourth at a pace that already felt too hard. I recalled from last year that Megan liked to go out strong but would probably slow down, at least a bit, later. But I didn't recognize either of the two guys -- both wearing red singlets -- and I had no idea if they were legit threats to win or just rookies who let their pre-race adrenaline get the best of them. I decided to let them all go, gambling that I would hopefully be able to reel them in later, perhaps in the second half of the race.

The motley chase group
I was initially joined by two other runners, Jesse Aukeman from Grand Rapids and Martin Schumacher from Chicago. The three of us ran together for a few miles until Martin slipped back, leaving Jesse and I to chase on our own for the rest of the first lap. As we completed the first lap and arrived back at the start/finish area loop I spotted my pacer Bill who was luckily all set and ready to run -- even though I had arrived almost thirty minutes faster than I had predicted!

I caught a glimpse of Megan and one of the two other red-shirt guys heading out of the one kilometer loop just as Jesse and I were rolling in. I wasn't sure if the other other red-shirt guy was further ahead in the lead, or if he was behind the other two leaders somewhere on the short loop we had to run before heading out on the second lap.

Bill was waiting at the end of the short loop and helped me slip into my Ultimate Direction AK vest (with two water bottles) which I swapped out for the one handheld bottle I had been carrying. I remembered from last year that it warmed up dramatically during the second lap in the afternoon, and I didn't want another repeat performance of last year's visit to the Emergency Room after getting dehydrated and being hospitalized with Rhabdomyolysis and kidney/liver failure. My goal this year was to not pee blood again at the end of the race.

Bill ran in front and set a strong pace, quickly pulling us past one of the redshirted guys and his pacer, and up even with Jesse and Megan. The four of us ran together for a while with Jesse setting the pace. I was a bit winded from the chase and dropped back a few feet to collect myself and catch my breath. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Megan launches a devastatingly beautiful attack, flying down the trail and ripping open an immediate sizable lead over Jesse and I. Bill looks back at me as if to confirm, "That just happened!" Yup.

Losing an argument with myself
So here I am, hurting, just trying to keep Jesse in sight with Megan now off the front and nowhere to be seen. And then to make things worse, I hear the other redshirted guy and his pacer flying down the switchbacks gaining back ground on us. Oh no! Ugh, it's decision time. Do I let them pass me and bide my time, sticking with my original plan to wait until the last ten miles to attack? Or do I just say screw it and go all in, launching an earlier than planned attack and risking everything for a shot at the win?

"If you're not coughing up blood, or at least pissing blood, you're not running hard enough," I remind myself! Ok, that settles it. Solid logic that I can't argue with. I step on the gas and start accelerating, tapping my buddy Bill on the arm as I fly by him to let him know that it's show time. We fly by Jesse (who is probably wondering what the hell is going on as people keep sprinting by him at full speed in the middle of a 50 mile race) and then catch up to and pass Megan exchanging a few friendly words.

After about a mile of hammering we take our foot off the gas and settle into a steady pace. We've suddenly moved up from fourth place to second, with only one remaining runner in front -- though who knows how far in front? Things are looking good! And then suddenly they are not. Just as Bill and I are leaving an aid station we hear cheers and look back and see the other red shirt and his pacer pulling into the aid station only second behind us. They look determined and are moving fast. Minutes later they pass us. Now we're back in third place. Boo, hiss.

I'm demoralized and really starting to hurt. Negative thoughts are creeping into my head. "Maybe I should just give up and jog it in instead of racing? Maybe I should lay down and take a nap? Maybe I should waylay one of the aid station volunteers and steal their shirt, then hide the body in the bushes, so I can get a ride back to the start/finish area." If I was on my own, who knows what I would have done.

World's best pacer, Bill Pritchett
But luckily Bill is there with me, and he is running ahead setting an semi-aggressive yet runnable pace. I lock my eyes on him and just keep moving forward. Miles pass. Hours pass. And then suddenly we are there -- the middle of the grueling last few miles of hills. Ah, this is what I have been waiting for. This is what I do. I can run hills in my sleep. I have run hills in my sleep (but that's another race report).

Unbeknownst to me, Bill has been quietly struggling with GI issues for the past couple of hours. But like a loyal lieutenant, he has kept his problems to himself -- quietly ducking into the woods every few miles -- not wanting to burden me with additional stress. But now, sensing that I am back from the dead and ready to hammer the last five or so miles of hills, Bill knows his work is done for the day and lets me run off ahead, now finally able to tend to his own issues.

Women's winner Megan Rieger, "first old dude" John Burton,
and men's winner, Jason Barhorst
At this point I'm moving well, but I'm still in third place and I have no idea how far either of the red-shirt guys are in front of me, or whether I will be able to catch one or both of them. I stay focused and keep grinding. Finally it pays off, I see one of the red shirted leaders and his pacer just ahead. I hammer down a steep hill and pull into the last aid station just a second or two behind them. I quickly refill only one of my two bottles, knowing that it's only three miles to the finish line. As I head out and run up a hill I look back and notice that the runner and his pacer are still at the aid station and don't appear to be planning to leave anytime soon. Huh?

I keep hammering, but I'm starting to run out of real estate. I'm at the top of the last climb with less than a mile of down hill to go and the other runner, the race leader, is nowhere to be seen. For all I know he has finished already. It was great effort, but I came up short. Still, second place isn't too shabby and glancing down at my watch I notice that I am at least 30 minutes ahead of my PR pace. I'm going to shatter my 50 mile PR as long as I don't trip and break a leg on this last steep tricky descent.

Masters trophy (I guess getting old is kinda cool)
I hear cheering as I emerge from the tree line and enter the finishing chute. It's finally over. Second place, a 35 minute PR in a time of 7:10:45. I'm exhausted, but ecstatic. The red-shirt race winner, who actually has a name, Jason Barhorst, comes over and graciously congratulates me. He finished 5 or 6 minutes ago but looks remarkably fresh, as if he probably could have run a lot faster if he had been pressed.

Several minutes (and several beers) later, Bill jogs out from the forest and joins me and some new friends (they offered me a beer and I am now in their debt) for a post-race burger and beer. Ah, life is good.

And while I didn't win the race outright, I was consoled to find out that I am now apparently considered a "master" having turned 40 earlier this year, and was therefore crowned the master's champion! Perhaps this getting old stuff isn't quite so bad after all.

Click here for Strava data.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Run the Keewenaw: A Festival of Trails (Copper Habor, Michigan)

Copper Harbor, Michigan, Keewenaw Peninsula
A couple of weeks ago I travelled back home to my motherland, Michigan's Upper Peninsula (U.P.). However this was not a relaxing sight-seeing trip or beach-volleyball family reunion. No, this trip was strictly business. I was there to run!

Though I was born and suckled on the shores of Lake Superior, spending my early toddler years and many a childhood summer on a small Indian reservation called Bay Mills, I'd never really seen much of the Upper Peninsula beyond the 3 acres where my grandmother (a transplant from Austria) raised chickens and goats, baked fresh bread from scratch, picked and ate wild mushrooms (some edible and some semi-poisonous), and canned every manner of fruit or vegetables (she may have even canned Viennese Schnitzels, but that's neither here nor there).

So I was excited when I learned about a trail-running stage-race called the Keewenaw Running Fesitval, held each year on the Northern-most tip of the Upper Peninsula in the old mining community of Cooper Harbor. The Keewenaw is famous for many things -- though mainly for snow, of which they receive around 20 to 25 feet per year.

However, the Keewenaw is also known for a few other things including: mosquitoes and biting flies, Cornish pasties, saunas (and all things Finnish), craft beer, and world-class mountain biking trails. Quite an eclectic collection of "must see" attractions. And I was eager to experience them all!

"Run The Keewenaw: A Festival of Trails" is a weekend stage race consisting of three individual races: a 8K hill climb on Saturday morning, a hilly 12K trail run on Saturday afternoon, and an even more hilly 25K trail run on Sunday morning. Each race offers prizes for the top 3 overall and the top 3 in each age group. In addition, for competitors doing all three events, your finishing time is added up from all three events and awards are given to the top-five runners with the lowest cumulative times.

My new friend Riccardo
I was originally planning to travel together with another Bay-area runner, Caitlin Smith, who is also originally from Michigan. However, when Caitlin wasn't able to go, I reached out to the race organizer to see if I could catch a ride from the Houghton airport (40 miles away) with a local runner as all the car rental places close promptly at 5:00 pm (even though the second of only two daily flights into town doesn't land until 6:11 pm).

The race director put me in touch with a great guy -- Riccardo Tortini, an Italian PHd student studying at Michigan Tech. Riccardo also happened to be the defending Keewenaw Festival champion from last year! Riccardo picked me up from the airport, put me up at his place, introduced me to the local runners, and showed me the town. We even managed to sneak in a quick 5 mile run Friday evening at the "Tech trails" at the university.

The trails were quite impressive -- clearly designed for mountain biking with high banked curves, big ramps, and technical boardwalk stunts. I must say however, after the short 40 minute run at 8:00 pace in the Michigan heat and high humidity, I was sweating profusely and breathing much harder than I would have liked. In the back of mind, I was already worrying about how the race would go tomorrow. Not to mention the fact that I had just run Western States only two weeks before.

Luckily my mind quickly shifted from running to beer as Riccardo drove us over to the local microbrewery, Keewenaw Brewing Company (KBC), who was serving up $2.50 pints of delicious craft beer. Twenty dollars later, I no longer had a care in the world! I was ready to run.


Mt. Baldy 8K Hill Climb

Riccardo and I miraculously managed to wake up and make it on time to the starting line on Saturday morning with no ill-effects from a long evening of Cascade hops "carbo loading" at the pub followed by only a few hours sleep.

Race headquarters at an old school house
Photo @Gowtham
The race headquarters were located in an old school house, which really gave the race a warm, quaint small-town feel. However, while the field was relatively small with only 67 runners, I knew the competition would be intense as the field included a number of really fit looking runners including Riccardo (last year's champion and a 2:48 marathoner), Scott Vanasten (winner of the Ice Age 50K), William Holbert (a young college track runner wearing the most brightly-colored ridiculous pair of running shorts I'd ever seen), and a number of other really fast-looking guys.

The race began and a group of runners went out hard including Riccardo, Scott, William, and a few others. I held back, lingering toward the rear of the ten person lead group. The first kilometer was on a slightly uphill paved road before making a left turn and heading into the woods on a wide fire road. Riccardo and Scott were already opening up a big lead on the rest of the field, and we would unfortunately never see them again until the top.

I waited patiently until the first steep sandy section to make my move. Riccardo had described the course to me in pretty vivid detail, so even though I had never set foot on it, I felt that I knew it well. Once we hit the steep sandy climb I attacked and quickly passed a group of 4 or 5 other runners. I could see two more runners just 20 or 30 yards ahead of me, but it took me forever to reel them in.

"Where eagles fly!" on top of Mt. Baldy in Eagle Harbor
I caught up to William (the young track star in the silly shorts) on a steep technical section about a mile from the top just as he abruptly stopped running. I kept pressing and reeled in the other runner, a guy in a white shirt, just before the final steep section before the summit. As we approached the make-shift finish line on top of the wind-swept barren summit I wasn't sure I was going to make it without collapsing. Thankfully my heart didn't explode and my legs didn't seize up with lactic acid.

I crossed the finish line in 3rd place, seven seconds ahead of the 4th place runner, but a good minute behind Scott and Riccardo, who took 1st and 2nd respectively. While officially billed as an 8K, according to my Garmin the course was just shy of 6K (about 3.6 miles) with over 1100 feet of vertical gain. With that kind of elevation profile, I was quite happy with my 27:54 finish time which averaged out to about 7:36 pace.

Still, if I hadn't realized it before, I knew now that I was definitely going to be in a tough battle if I wanted to come home with a podium place for the three-race series!


Cooper Harbor Trails 12K Challenge

After the morning hill climb (which requires runners to jog back down the mountain to the start), Riccardo and I decided to grab some lunch and a beer at a local restaurant and brewery called the Fitzgerald (or "Fitz" for short). While the food options were quite limited -- especially for Riccardo who is a vegetarian -- the beer menu was about 20 pages long, with at least 4 or 5 pages dedicated to local Michigan-brewed craft beer.


"Recovery drinks" between races
I ordered the pull-pork sandwich and nice light summer brew (Whitsun wheat ale). Excellent choice on the beer. Questionable choice on the lunch fare, which I would still be burping up hours later at the starting line of the afternoon 12K. Well, you can't win 'em all.

As we lined up for the start of the 12K, I wasn't feeling particularly confident. The morning hill climb had been much more painful than I expected, and now I was a bit terrified of how much this race was going to hurt. The gun went off and as expected Riccardo and Scott shot off to the front and were quickly out of sight.

I found myself in third place, running harder than I would like, trying to protect tenuous lead over the two or three person chase pack behind me that included young William the track star (who had traded in his obnoxious multi-colored running shorts from the morning for an equally questionable pair of zebra/cheetah print shorts) and Simon Carn (who was in my age group and had finished only 45 seconds behind me on the opening hill climb).

Sweet biking trails, but scary to run on!
The course was challenging, but beautiful, taking us through the forest on some amazing mountain biking trails. The terrain was rolling, with lots of banked turns and wooden boardwalk sections that would have been awesome on a mountain bike, but which were actually quite frightening to run. I kept worrying that one of my toes was going to get caught between the loosely spaced wooden planks, or that my foot would break through.

I basically ran the entire 12K at my all-out 10K race pace, constantly glancing behind me to see how much of a lead I had on my pursuers. I felt like I was constantly running on the edge, flirting with a disastrous blow up. Yet somehow I managed to keep it all together. Just as I was coming out of the woods and on to the last half mile homestretch of mowed lawn, I heard footsteps behind me. Ugh. I turned my head, hoping it wasn't Simon as he is in my age group and I at least wanted to hold on for the age group win.

Finishing sprint!
Photo @Gowtham
Luckily it was young William, the track star, flying by me in his zebra/cheetah shorts. I briefly tried to surge and go with him, but my legs were having no part of it. I watched him pull away, finishing ten seconds behind him in 4th place, but 33 seconds ahead of the next runner, Simon. Although the race was officially listed as a 12K, my Garmin again showed as being shorter -- only about 10 or 11K or 6.6 miles. But I wasn't complaining. And I was quite happy with my 49:27 finish time, which averaged out to about 7:31 pace.

After catching my breath, I learned that Riccardo had edged Scott out this time, by 18 seconds, putting them in a virtual dead heat for the overall lead after two races. William and I finished 3 minutes behind Riccardo and Scott, pretty much ending any hope I might have had of winning the series. But I was still in 3rd place, and I was ready to give everything I had left on Sunday to hold on to my podium spot!


Carl Olson Memorial 25K Adventure Run

Sunday I woke up with a feeling of dread. Normally I wake up on race morning excited and eager to run. But after racing twice on Saturday at a pace significantly faster than I normally run on my little 50 and 100 mile jogs, I wasn't particularly looking forward to more 7:30 pace suffering. Luckily I think everyone else was feeling the same way, as the 25K race start was much slower and more mellow than Saturday's hill climb and 12K.

Holy humidity, it's hot!
Photo @Gowtham
Riccardo and Scott took off together, chit-chatting at a leisurely 6:30 pace on the relatively flat opening mile before the first long four-mile hill climb began. A young twenty-something year old named Andrew with fresh legs (who hadn't raced either of Saturday's races) went out in third place, while young William and I ran together in 4th and 5th.

Not too far behind us we could occasionally catch sight of the 3 or 4 person chase group that included Simon, the other guy in my age group who I only had about a minute lead over in the standings.

William and I worked together for quite a few miles, trying to keep Andrew in sight. We were running strong and moving well. But then somewhere around mile 8 or 9 on the second long 3 mile climb, William abruptly fell off the pace and disappeared. He would fade quite a bit, but hold on for 7th place. I was also struggling a bit on this climb, partially perhaps because I was now suddenly running alone without company and definitely also because I had run out of water.

As I approached the aid station at the top of the last climb, I could see that Andrew (the guy in 3rd place) had a fairly significant two or three hundred meter lead on me. With only 5K to go to the finish, all of which was downhill, I doubted that I would be able to reel him in.

Trying to outrun the various biting bugs
Photo @Gowtham
So I was quite surprised when only minutes later I saw a figure running on the trail head of me. Alas, it turned out to be my buddy Riccardo who had apparently fallen and then cramped up. He was still moving, but no longer running at his normal speed. I handed him my water bottle (which I had just refilled at the aid station) as I passed by and told him to drink it. I pressed on, now in 3rd place, hoping that I might catch Andrew and/or Scott.

However it was not to be and I never saw either Andrew or Scott until after I crossed the finish line. I finished 3rd on the day in 2:03:14, about 1:18 behind Andrew and almost 4 minutes behind Scott. My Garmin once again showed the course to be short, though this much closer to the stated 25K distance, measuring almost 24K or 14.8 miles. But who knows how well GPS technology really works deep in the woods of Michigan on winding switchback trails in a town whose claim to fame is that they don't have (and don't want) cell phone coverage.

In any case, based on my 3rd place finish in the 25K, knew that I had locked up 3rd place in the overall standings. The question was now whether my buddy Riccardo would finish in the next 4 or 5 minutes to preserve his overall lead over me. Otherwise, if he took too long out there, he could slip to 3rd overall and I would move up to 2nd overall in the standings. Tick, tick, tick... no sign of him yet.


The Dramatic Final Conclusion...

Until next time my friends... stay thirsty.
photo @Gowtham
Luckily for Riccardo he managed to keep it together and came in with 18 seconds to spare, good for 5th place on the day and 2nd overall in the three-race series. I was happy for him... though slightly jealous of the free pair of Salomon shoes he took home for 2nd place. But I didn't go home empty handed either as I won a bar of home-made soap! And a bunch of other cool stuff including a Salomon waist pack, a framed photo of the Porcupine mountains, a pair of trail socks, a hand-made necklace, and three jars of homemade jam. Not too shabby!

After the race, Scott (who won the 25K as well as the overall series) had to take his wife to the hospital for surgery on her finger which she had severely dislocated during a hard fall on the trail (note: the surgery went fine and she was released later that day).

Riccardo and I joined Mark, Phil, and Tom (friends of Scotts who had all driven in from Madison for the race) for rehydration and calorie replenishment (i.e., beer and pizza) at a bar across the street. After lunch and beers, we debated what to do next and eventually decided, quite wisely, to walk over to the local microbrewery for another pint or two. Work hard, play hard!




Friday, July 5, 2013

Western States 100


Oh shit, I just got into Western States!!!

The iconic Western States 100
In general I consider myself a lucky guy. That said, I've never won the lottery or anything – no Powerball, no MegaMillions, no Western States entry. Well, technically I've "won" jury duty several times, but I don't count that. So I was surprised – and overjoyed – when I got a phone call informing me that I'd won my running club's lottery and would receive our automatic entry into the 2013 Western States 100 as the club's designated runner. Woo hoo!

I've been a member of the Quicksilver Running Club of San Jose since 2004. And for the past 25 years our club has been hosting the Duncan Canyon aid station at mile 24 of the Western States. As a thank you from the race, our club gets one automatic entry per year into the race so that we can send a runner of our choice. Luckily, rather than just sending our fastest runner (i.e., not me) we hold a lottery among qualified members. And this year my name got pulled out of the hat... or the dirty sock, or the empty potato chip bowl, or whatever we use for such formal occasions.

Two days before the club's lottery I paced my former-coach (and current-friend) Caitlin Smith, at The North Face - Endurance Challenge Championship in the Marin Headlands. Caitlin soldiered on through a tough day to finish 4th in a crowded elite international women's field. Afterwards, she promised to "pay me back" if I managed to get into Western States. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing as I was pretty tough on her during the race, cracking the whip mercilessly.

I tried telling Caitlin that it really wasn't necessary for her to pace me; that she was far too fast to waste her talents pacing a slow mid-packer like me, and that my wife Amy would be more than happy to pace me (I paced my wife Amy at Western States last year). But Caitlin insisted, and so a compromise was drawn. Caitlin would pace me from Foresthill at mile 62 to the Rucky Chucky River crossing at mile 80, and then Amy would pace me for the last 20 miles from Green Gate to the track in Auburn.
 

I guess I should train, or something?

Last year in 2012 working with Caitlin I had a breakout year with my running, accomplishing all of my goals for the season – by midseason! I ran personal bests at virtually every distance from 100 miles down to the mile (well, technically the Beer Mile to be precise). I won the Ruth Anderson 50K in April and then pulled out a top-10 sub 24 hour finish at TRT (Tahoe Rim Trail) 100 in July! I was crushing it!

Heat & elevation training in the sauna at 7,500'
But at the end of the summer I was a little burnt out with running and decided to switch my focus to bicycle racing. I've always been an avid cyclist. I ride nearly every day. And I own a fleet of bikes including a nice collection of 1970's vintage racing bicycles, an expensive modern carbon-fiber race bike, and a couple of mountain bikes. But despite my passion for bicycles (and bicycling), I'd never done any actual bike racing.

So, I joined a newly formed bike racing team – Leopard/Sapporo out of San Jose – and started riding 150 miles a week. This didn't leave a lot of time for running. While I tried to run regularly, my weekly mileage fell to about 30 miles a week. I was having a lot of fun riding and was probably fitter than ever, but I knew that at some point I would need to start running if I wanted to do well at Western States. I double checked the rules, and sure enough it explicitly says that runners are prohibited from using bicycles or other mechanized transportation. Bummer.

Suddenly, towards the end of April, I realized that I only had about two months until Western States! Panic time! So I did what any panic-stricken fool with no common sense would do. I decided to quit cycling cold turkey and to instantly ramp my weekly running mileage up from 30 miles a week to 120 miles a week overnight. What’s that, clearly a recipe for disaster you say?

Yet somehow – and who knows why – my foolish gamble actually paid off! After a rough first week where I would randomly fall asleep at my desk at work, I began to feel stronger. Rather than breaking down, my body seemed to soak up the miles. At one point, in the middle of the month, I ran a 50 mile race in 90 degree heat, with no taper, finishing in 7th place. The next day I didn't even feel tired or sore during my workout. The next weekend I ran a tough, hilly 50K in similar heat, finishing 2nd overall, just minutes behind the winner. Hell, I guess I'm ready for Western States!?!


"No strategy" is also a strategy!

Many runners like to have a "strategy" of some kind going into a big race. They like to write down all kinds of fancy numbers on complicated spreadsheets using linear regression to predict when they will arrive at each checkpoint during the race. However, I wondered to myself if perhaps the best plan might be to have no plan at all! As the modern-day philosopher Mike Tyson once quipped, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth".

Of course, this annoyed my wife Amy who, for some odd reason, wanted to have at least a rough idea of when I might arrive at the aid station where she would be pacing me from. So, she took it on herself to devise a pace chart and splits for me. While she wouldn't admit it, I think she basically just copied down the splits run last year by Jenny Capel and Jen Pfeifer – two elite women ultra runners who usually beat me.

During my (abbreviated but intense) training and preparation for Western States I solicited advice and scoured the Internet for any advice I could find on running the course. I read race reports, blogs, and articles from guys like Joe Uhan, Andy Jones-Wilkins, and Craig Thornley.

I learned that Western States rarely favors the bold, and that it is far better to go out easy and save your legs until after the hot canyons as the last 38 miles provide good running if you’ve still got your legs underneath you. I also learned that it is apparently better to go into the race with thick, leathery, sun-scorched skin than to wear sunblock which can interfere with the body’s natural sweating and cooling process.

During a short Facebook conversation with Ian Torrence where I asked what last-minute training I could do just three weeks before the race, he gave me some good tips but basically just implored me not to do anything dumb like going for a 12 hour run in a sweat suit wearing a gas mask and weight vest (damn, how did he know what I was thinking?).

The day before the race Gary Wang advised me to take care of my feet, as the combination of record heat and wet conditions (it rained for three days right before the race) would likely cause many people to DNF due to blisters. Having previously DNF'd from one race due to blisters and having finished another with bloody skinless feet, I heeded his advice and threw a couple of extra pairs of socks into my drop bags.


Goofing around with buddy Greg Lanctot
And finally, just minutes before checking into my hotel room and going to sleep for the evening I had a short talk with professional triathlete Joe Sanders (who is the boyfriend of the elite runner Bree Lambert) who advised me to try and eat as much solid food as possible in the early part of the race before the temperatures got hot and shut down everyone's stomach. Getting some food in the belly and calories in the bank would pay off later in the heat of the day when even choking down an energy gel would prove difficult.

It was all great advice, and all of it ended up helping me tremendously on race day! However, perhaps the best advice I received was on television from Rocky Balboa two nights before the race. I had just spent an hour in the sauna (at 150 degree heat) at 7,500 feet elevation on a mountain top resort at Lake Tahoe. It might have been the extreme heat, or the high elevation, or the pair of beers I quickly pounded immediately after stepping out of the sauna, or those cookies I bought from that hippie in Truckee... but I swear that the movie stopped and Rocky turned and spoke directly to me:

"John, let me tell you something you already know. Western States 100 ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. Those canyons are a mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, they will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let 'em. It's not about how hard you can run. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!"

Now I had some great advice and some stellar motivation, but I still didn't have a race "strategy". Everyone who knows me – and knows how foolish and impetuous I can be – implored me not to go out too hard on the opening 4 mile climb. Intuitively I knew this was good advice. But... I also knew that, 1) I am a great uphill runner, 2) morning would be the coolest time of the day and best time to do some good running, and 3) I didn't want to go out too slow and get stuck in a "Conga line" of hikers. Hmmm, what to do?
 

Off and running (err, hiking at a moderate pace)

At 5:00 am sharp the shotgun blast sounded and the lead runners flew up the ski slope. The top guys quickly ripped open a huge lead on the rest of the field. I settled into about a steady pace nestled among a group of talented runners including Andy Jones-Wilkins, Simon Mtuy, Eduardo Vasquez, Amy Sproston, and Emily Harrison as we made our way up the mountain. I chatted a bit, trying to make sure that I was running and hiking at a conversational pace and not pushing too hard.



Heads down on the opening climb

At the top of the escarpment I saw my buddy Paul Fick who was volunteering with the safety patrol (Paul had paced me at Tahoe Rim Trail in 2010). I gave him a quick pat on the back and then bombed down the steep, rocky backside of the mountain into the tree line. For the next 12 miles I just cruised along behind AJW through Lyon Ridge and Red Star Ridge. I managed to pass Simon and a couple of other runners on the next section to Duncan Canyon despite slowing down enough to pee a few times (I just pee’d in my pants without bothering to stop).

Top of the first climb
At mile 24 I ran into the Duncan Canyon aid station which is hosted by my running club, Quicksilver Running Club of San Jose. This year’s theme was “Western hoedown” and everyone was dressed in denim and flannel. I almost didn’t recognize my buddy Jeremy Johnson who looked a bit like Bo from the Duke’s of Hazard. It was also great seeing so many familiar faces cheering me on including Kristina Irvin, Jim MaGill, Doug Bailey, and company! Thanks everyone!

Although it was only 9:20 am and the temperature wasn’t yet anywhere near the 106+ degree high we would encounter in the afternoon, I’d already started filling my hat and vest pockets up with ice to try and keep my core temperature down. I felt great as I cruised the next downhill section down into Duncan Creek where I came across AJW frolicking in the river. I’m not sure, but I think I spotted him playing with a rubber ducky bath toy out of the corner of my eye. I plopped down in the river and spent a few seconds cooling myself off.

AJW mentioned that he was going to hike the climb up to Robinson Flat. I figured I would hike most of it too, but the initial ascent seemed pretty runnable so I started jogging. It never really got too steep so I actually ended up running the whole thing. I ended up passing 5 or 6 runners through this stretch including Cassie Scallon (women’s winner of Lake Sonoma) who I chatted with briefly. However at one point I had to stop to re-tie a shoelace and saw a blur as 2:30 women’s marathoner Emily Harrison went flying by up the mountain!


Here’s a funny and embarrassing story.

Towards the top of the climb up to Robinson I caught up with Western States legend Erik Skaden, with whom I ran for the next few hours until we got separated after Devil’s Thumb. I didn’t immediately recognize Erik, whom I had of course heard of, but never met. Erik hadn’t yet introduced himself and we were just running along and chatting. Not realizing that I was running with an elite bad-ass who had twice finished 2nd at Western States (and twice won Tahoe Rim Trail 100) I proceeded to offer him all kinds of unsolicited advice on everything from pacing to race strategy. Ugh!

Luckily Erik is a gracious dude and refrained from punching me in the face. Erik and I made great time from Robinson Flat down through Miller’s Defeat, Dusty Corners, and Last Chance. We managed to reel in a couple of elite women including Denise Bourassa who had gone out hard but were already slowing a bit. However we were never able to shake AJW who would roll into each aid station behind us just as we were leaving.


100 degrees in the shade

The hottest measured temperature during the day was 106 degrees at the Rucky Chucky River crossing at mile 78. However, I am pretty sure that if someone had carried a thermometer down into the canyons at Devil’s Thumb or El Dorado Creek it would have topped 110 or 115 degrees! I did my best to stay cool in the canyons including taking a bath with AJW in a little pool of mountain river runoff. Again, I took off early while AJW stayed behind a while longer (I think he had just finished shampooing and was applying hair conditioner).

Look ma, no hands!

I descended well and climbed steadily in the canyons catching up with a few other runners including Paulo Medina (from Peru) and Henrick Westerlin (from Denmark, living in India). However, I had to stop and adjust the shoe insert liners in my Montrail FluidFlex shoes which had become wet were starting to scrunch up under my toes. AJW and Erik both passed me there, and it would be the last I would see of either as they both continued to catch people, finishing 17th and 21st respectively.


As I emerged from the last of the canyons into Michigan Bluff I received the world’s hardest high-five from an enthusiastic Karl Hoagland – owner of UltraRunning magazine. Luckily my hand didn’t fall off and only suffered mild bruising. And then moments later, after exiting Michigan Bluff and turning up on to the Volcano Canyon fireroad I received a “you’re running strong, great form” from a woman who looked suspiciously like fourteen (14) time Western States champion Ann Trason. I took my sunglasses off and did a double take. Yep, Ann Trason just threw me a compliment. Whoa! I debated turning around to ask for an autograph, but was worried that any sudden movements might cause my inner quads to cramp.

I was still feeling great, but starting to get a bit worried as I knew that I would be picking up my first pacer, Caitlin Smith, at Foresthill School in 7 miles. So rather than running Volcano Canyon and Bath Road hard, I took it easy and did a combination jog / hike to save my energy. I also stuffed down as many energy gels as possible to make sure I would have some fuel in the tank.

 
Cal Street

I came into the Foresthill aid station at mile 62 at exactly 5:15 pm, just as “planned” in the splits that Amy handed me the night before. I was feeling great and excited to see my Amy, Caitlin, my Mom and John Paul. After a quick weigh in and medical check (everything was fine and I had only lost a pound or two) I said a quick “hi, bye” to Amy, my mom and JP and then headed down the road with Caitlin, trying to finish my popsicle while running.


Getting a hug from my crew
Caitlin set a steady pace and we made great time down the winding single-track trail on Cal 1. We talked for a bit with Caitlin filling me in on what was going on with the leaders at the front of the race. Caitlin pushed me pretty hard, even getting me to run all but the steepest of the hills.

Oddly we didn’t see any other runners for quite a while. However, once we got out on to Cal 2 parallel to the river we started to finally see some other runners ahead. We reeled in several people during this section including elite superstars Jacob Rydman and Hal Koerner (two-time Western States champion), both of whom had been reduced to walking by this point. It’s always awkward passing fellow runners in such a fashion. Nonetheless, it did give me a little mental boost knowing that I had run a smart race and was still moving well!

Rucky Chucky River Crossing in 106 degree heat
I had quite a bit of “chaffage” going on my groin and thigh area (at one point blood was streaming down the inside of my thighs) and the pain of entering the water sent me into shock for a moment. However, once the pain subsided, Caitlin and I crossed the river – which was shoulder-deep in some places – carefully but quickly.

I told Caitlin that I was planning to just power hike the two mile climb from the River to Green Gate. After all, almost nobody except the race winners run this section. Yet somehow the climb didn’t seem that bad and Caitlin and I ended up running almost the entire thing, passing several more runners before meeting Amy at Green Gate.

I arrived at Green Gate about 10 minutes faster than predicted (thanks Caitlin), and I was a bit worried that Amy might not have arrived yet. So I was relieved when we spotted her, all set and ready to run. Amy later confessed (after the race of course) that she had gotten lost on the way and only arrived just 10 minutes before I rolled in! We thanked Caitlin again for doing such an awesome job, and then Amy and I headed out back into the woods with our headlamps on, ready for the impending darkness of the setting sun.


The Last Push

Amy and I immediately started arguing and bickering with each other (as married couples do) before finally settling into a nice pace with Amy leading the way. We covered the 5 miles to Auburn Lakes Trail (ALT) rather quickly.

While I was impressed and blown away by the all the super helpful-amazing-wonderful volunteers at all the aid stations all day long, I must admit I was still holding a bit of grudge against the smug cocky kid who worked the medical scales at ALT last year. He unfairly gave many of the runners a hard time last year about their weight including my wife Amy, who he threatened to pull due to basic math miscalculations on his part (read this year’s women’s champion Pam Smith’s account last year of how he also unfairly pulled her for several hours last year).

I stepped on the scales and saw, with great relief, that my weight was fine. As I stepped off and headed out the guy behind the scales (I'm not 100% sure if it was the same guy from last year or not) tried to catch me offguard with a trick question, “Your weight is Ok, but how are you feeling?”. A lot of smart-ass retorts went through my head including, “I’m feeling like kicking your ass.” But instead I played it cool and quipped, “I’m feeling fucking awesome. How are you feeling?”.

Safely out of ALT, I jogged a bit to eat another popsicle before starting the long climb up towards Brown’s Bar. Another runner and his pacer came flying out of the aid station and asked if they could kindly pass us. Amy and I stepped aside and let them through while I finished my frozen treat. Sixty seconds later we re-passed them as Amy cranked up the pace. I was a bit worried that we were running too fast with 15 miles still to go, but I wasn’t hurting or anything so I figured what the heck. We continued moving well all the way to Brown’s Bar at mile 90.

This is what I came for!
Coming down the steep single-track from Brown’s Bar we came across Emily Harrison and her pacer Ian Torrence standing at the intersection of several trails. It was quite dark, and I thought maybe they were lost or confused as to which way to run. We chatted briefly and Ian assured me that everyone was fine (I still have no idea what they were standing in the middle of the trail discussing, though I can only guess that perhaps Emily was having a rough spot).

As we ran up the long, long, long fire road towards the Highway 49 crossing I looked back and saw that Emily was also running strong and just hanging a couple hundred meters back. I joked to Amy that if we were going to try and drop Emily we’d better do it now because there was no way that I was going to win a sprint against a high-school state champion and NCAA All-American.

Amy and I hit the Highway 49 crossing and started to get excited. The finish line was only 6 miles away! Unfortunately I got a bit too excited and made my first real mistake / miscalculation of the day. I didn’t take in any calories at the aid station! Somehow in my head I was thinking that with only 10K to go I already had it in the bag. But what I forgot was that 10K through the mountains at night on rugged trails takes a lot longer than 10K on a flat bike path.

Amy led the way up the climb and then down the descent into No Hands Bridge which was lit up like a Christmas tree at night. It really was an amazing sight! As we refilled my bottles and headed out we noticed Brett Rivers (co-owner of San Francisco Running Company) standing around. He was pacing his buddy Jorge Maravilla (the other co-owner) who finished 8th overall last year, but who was apparently struggling a bit this year and was in the bathroom taking care of business.

Amy and ran across the bridge and then began the long two mile climb up to Robie Point. The early part of the climb was only a slight uphill grade, which I would normally run with ease. But suddenly the cumulative heat of the day (it was still 82 degrees out even at night) and the lack of calories were catching up to me. I didn’t have the energy or will to run any longer; so we walked.

Crewing is hard work too!
Emily and Ian came running by and offered some encouragement. Ian even grabbed my arm and pulled me for a second urging me to run. And I did. For about 5 seconds. And then it was back to hiking. We slowly made our way up to the paved street at the top of Robie Point. It was just after 1:00 am and a few people were still out in front of their houses cheering us on.

I had been feeling nauseous for a while but figured I could keep it together and hold it down. However, right as we got near the top of Robie Drive, I had to stop and empty the contents of my stomach (which thankfully wasn’t much) onto the street. Puking in public; Awww, reminds me of college at Michigan!

After the quick purge I felt rejuvenated and ran the last uphill section. I could see and hear the lights and loud voices of Jorge and his crew just 100 yards behind us. I was dreading a sprint finish on the track. Luckily I was able to run the last downhill ½ mile pretty strong and hit the track alone, with a minute lead over Jorge.

I ran out on to the track to a cheering crowd. Tropical John Medinger, sitting high up in the press box above the field began announcing, “Now on the track, number 119, Big Johnny Burton from San Jose, California. John lists his occupation as 'exotic male dancer'. John says his greatest athletic accomplishment was his second-place finish at the 2012 Silicon Valley Beer Mile Championships with a time of 6:39 that included drinking 4 beers. John is being paced by his wife Amy Burton who finished the race last year…”

And then I staggered across the finish line in 20:37:33. I was grinning like a kid, exhausted but elated! As I lay in the infield, unable to move, I asked Amy to walk over to the results board to see how I had done. She signaled back that I had finished 22nd man and 29th overall out of nearly 400 starters. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not! If so, I never wanted to wake up! What a race.

100.2 miles really isn't that far :)


Tuesday, May 21, 2013

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