As I was coming to the end of my 6 month coaching plan that I had signed up for back in February with Karl Meltzer, I viewed doing his race (The Speedgoat 50K) as my unofficial final exam.  30+ miles and 10,500′ of climbing would make for a pretty stout test indeed.

Here’s a sample of the test questions:

1. Can you run uphill?
2. How steep of a hill can you hike up? What if there’s snow on that hill?
3. Should one use ropes to descend cliffs on steep trails?
4. When a river is in your path, what is the fastest way to get across?
5. Popsicle, or no popsicle?
6. How many times can you run past a cheering Scott Mason in one race?
7. What color signals that you have gone off route?
8. Say (hypothetically, of course) that you get hit by a baseball-sized rock going mach 2. How many seconds are you allowed to recover before moving on?
9. If you have no skin left on the bottoms of your feet, do you stop running?

The morning air was warm as 100+ runners mingled nervously at the start. I had a great time catching up with friends new and old, all of us anticipating the grind that lay ahead. All too soon, the one minute warning was given. With a few final words from Karl and a loud BAAAAHHH, we were off!

I felt amazingly good as we traversed through the woods across the base of the ski resort. Then we hit a sharp left and started to climb. Yeah, not so good. I was trying to stick to a plan of holding back and saving some energy, but soon found myself pushing pretty hard just to keep up with the tail end of the front pack of 40 or so runners. I didn’t want to loose contact so early in the race, so against my better judgment I dug deeper than I wanted to and kept up.

Due to running the first few miles of the course with Karl a month ago, I knew there would be a couple of good downhills along the way where I could hopefully rally and start making up some ground. The only problem with going down, is you had to regain that elevation that was lost – that would be the theme for the day.

The night before the race, I was talking with Scott when he mentioned that we had a new member of our team. His name was Tom, and he was fresh off an amazing 8th place finish at Hardrock two weeks ago. I didn’t get to meet Tom before the race, but about 3 miles into it I spotted a guy ahead of me that was wearing a Wasatch Speed Goat racing team shirt and looked like he could eat a bowl of nails for breakfast. I knew immediately it was him. He was rocking with some headphones on, so I maintained a respectful distance and followed.  It would have been stupid for me to redline it and pass.  I knew that if anyone could cover a course like this well, he could.

I tried to match his super efficient and fast hiking pace, but would always end up losing just a bit of ground that I would have to make up when we broke into a run when the course allowed. It was great to watch and learn like that. Thanks, Tom!

We passed a cheering Speedgoat Scott on our way up to Hidden Peak. Scott had withheld his best “4-hoof drive” climbing technique from me that would have come in very handy on some of the steeper parts of the course. See for yourself, it works!  I’m counting on that buying me an extra 10 minutes next year…

I hurried through the aid station at the top and then started the traverse over to Baldy. Now life was good! Still behind Tom and a couple other people, I stole a glance at the amazing sights when I had a chance. It was an outstanding day to be in the mountains!

After a really steep and gnarly section, the descent into Mineral Basin was begging to be ripped. I started to let myself go faster and faster, overtaking Tom and giving him kudos on his Hardrock finish – and shaking my head at doing this race two weeks later. He told me to kick it in and I did. I ran that downhill super hard, splashing straight through the stream and charging down the rock-filled road with everything I had. I said a brief hello to Tim as he was removing a rock from his shoe, and continued to let it fly. It was the best I have ever run on a technical downhill. No slips or trips, skimming over the rocks totally in the zone, I passed 10-12 people from Baldy to Dutch Flat. That was fun!

Once I arrived at the 14 mile aid station, Roch and his crew (true to their reputation) took excellent care of me and had my pack filled, some calories stuffed in my face, and I was on the trail again in record time. I started marching up the huge climb that is Mary Ellen Gulch (sounds like the Wicked Witch of the West’s cousin or something). Should have been named Mary Ellen’s Steep as Hell Road to the Freakin’ Sky. I think my toenails were hurting from trying to dig into the ground as I propelled my way forward up the huge climb.

It was also at this point that I first noticed a familiar pain (FIRE), but in an unfamiliar spot – bottom of my heels. I’d never in my life blistered there before. I guess my Man From Snowy River descent with soaking wet feet and socks that were a little on the big side to begin with didn’t agree too well with my skin, so it decided to bail on me. Stupid blisters.  I had a matching set, one on each foot.

This is the part of the race that had me totally baffled. I knew it was going to be a long, hot, brutal climb and expected to see bodies lying all over the place while I tapped into the energy I had saved up from earlier in the morning and made up some more spots. Ha! These guys are no joke! I could see a line of people ahead of me, but the only person I caught was poor Adam. A super fast guy from West Virginia that was getting taken to school by the Utah altitude and terrain. He was suffering bad, but his attitude was great and I knew he would be ok. The rest of those climbing freaks up ahead refused to allow me to get any closer.

Wow, was I glad to get to the tunnel. The 20 mile mark and a chance to take a break from the climbing. It was nice to meet Jim Skaggs manning the aid station there – he had me on my way quickly with some bananas and gel. Another runner and myself got carried away with the descent and blew right through the turn we were supposed to make. Luckily he spotted a blue flag which let us know we were off course. He zipped cross-country over to pick up the trail while I was a good little goat and hiked a few minutes back up the hill to get to the turn we had missed and go again from there. Things got tough again in a hurry as we made our way up the spine-like ridge heading for the top of Hidden Peak again. I was a little loopy and started to head towards the tram station (it was sooo close!), thinking that was my next aid stop, when Scott hollered at me – where are you going?? Then shaking his head pointed to Little Cloud Bowl which I had (conveniently) forgotten all about.

Another 700′ of vertical climbing up a pile of rocks and snow had to be dealt with before getting to the aid station. As I was making my way up the ‘trail’, I heard someone shout my name. It was Speedgoat Sandy, 2 switchbacks above me. I had been 2-3 minutes behind him since mile 14 and now I was closing the gap. I was very happy to be within shouting distance because I knew he was coming off a good couple of month’s worth of training and racing and I was going to be stoked to finish anywhere near him.

Just as I had made my way onto the service road at the top of Little Cloud, I heard a tick tick tick sound on the slope above me and recognized it as a rock falling. I wanted to take evasive action, but had no idea where it was headed so I just held my line and hoped for the best. A split second later I heard it whistling through the air before it T-boned me square on the knee. BAM! That dropped me to the ground as if a sniper had taken me out. Luckily, it hit right at the very bottom part of my quad and didn’t really make contact with any bones. While it hurt plenty, and was bruised and bleeding, there wouldn’t be any long term damage.

The adrenaline kicked in and the knee was soon forgotten. I had a race to finish. Soon the final aid station came into sight, and I was glad to refill my pack with much needed water. I slammed about 4 small cups of coke and took off.

After running together for a while, Sandy pulled ahead and put 5 minutes into me by the finish. I ran fairly well, but the knee and blisters were taking their toll on my speed. The legs held up great. I was very happy to finish and get my diploma in the form of a high five from Karl. 7:19:18, 21st place. I had passed the test.

Epilogue:

I had a great time at this race.  It was very difficult, but what would you expect from the “World’s Toughest 50K”?  Plan on taking 2+ hours longer than your ‘normal’ trail 50K time.  Hanging out with everyone afterwards was awesome, it was a beautiful evening at the resort.  Bring a chair and a cooler and plan on staying for a while.  The volunteers were fantastic and much appreciated.  Lots of prizes were given away, I got a sweet Black Diamond headlamp.

I ran with a Nathan HPL #020 hydration pack and it served me well.  I only refilled at the main aid stations, skipping the water-only ones.

Here are my split times (distance was measured with a foot pod, elevation with a barometric altimiter – so take them for what they’re worth):

AS               Time      Lap  Dist Ascent
Hidden Peak   2:00:07  2:00:07  8.33   3960
Dutch Flat    3:06:33  1:06:26  6.25    460
Tunnel        4:57:34  1:51:00  5.56   3300
Hidden Peak   6:26:34  1:28:59  4.47   2080
Finish        7:19:22  0:52:48  4.51    270

See 2009 report here.

Sweet logo

I found out about the Sage Burner 50K by scouring some trail racing calendars looking for something to do in June. This seemed like a perfect fit. Reasonably close to home, and at 31 miles a chance to try a ‘sprint’ distance ultramarathon. The plan was to give this a real race effort vs. the training/practice I have been doing at the other recent events I’ve done.

I had some reservations about making the trip down for a first year race like this one. The course map revealed a vast spiderweb of trails with names like tail pipe, top-of-the-world, dirty sock, enchanted forest, skull pass, sea of sage, and rattlesnake that would be used in the Hartman Rocks Recreation Area near Gunnison, CO. I was worried about how they could ever mark a course like that well enough to keep everyone on track. It seemed like a tall order, and I really didn’t want to run around lost all day.

I signed up several weeks in advance, and made all of the necessary arrangements. Then some stuff came up on the Monday before the race weekend that looked like it would make the trip a no-go. That was fine, sometimes life happens when you have other plans… As a result, I put some extra effort into my training during the week – thinking that I wouldn’t be racing. I ran hard on Tuesday, Wednesday, and again on Friday morning – and then things worked out on Friday afternoon so I would be able to go to the race after all. My son Malcolm and I packed up the car in about 30 minutes and were on the road at 7:30 Friday evening. We hit the Gunnison KOA and had the tent set up just before midnight.

Four hours later we were awakened by the sound of 1,000,000,000,001 birds competing against one another to see who could chirp the loudest before dawn.

We broke camp and drove the short distance to the race start. I tested the climbing prowess of my Pontiac Vibe by driving up the steep dirt road called ‘Kill Hill’ to scope out the lay of the land. We found some course markers and it looked like everything was ready to go. I was looking forward to getting started!

View from the start, looking away from the course

As I was jogging around to loosen up a little, I bumped into Dave from Boulder whom I had met in Fruita. It was nice to see him there and we wished each other good luck. It was Dave’s first attempt at a race this long. He did great!  Check out his report here.

I did my best to get Malcolm set up for the time he would have to spend waitng for me – talk about an ultramarathon! He would have to spend all morning on his own. I made sure he had the keys to the car, my cell phone, water, food, chair, etc., etc. He was a super good sport about it and I was very happy that he wanted to make the trip with me. He has already said he wants to go back and run the 25K next year.

Being a first year race, the numbers were fairly small (66 total between the 25K and 50K), but the talent and ability of those I was standing next to at the start was immediately obvious. I recognized a few from other races I have done and knew they were very fast and strong. I felt quite humbled by the prospect of being there to try and ‘race’, but that’s the next step I’m taking in my evolution as an ultrarunner. I no longer have the ever present fear of not being able to finish an ultra like I had last season. I have been training super consistently and am very well coached. I’m thin on raw talent and speed, but am trying to make up for that with good technique, efficiency, proper fueling, hard work, strength, and my ability to quickly recover. Time to start pushing it a little bit, take my lumps, then take what I learn and keep trying to improve.

Typical terrain

It wasn’t really that cold, but I was shivering violently while the last minute instructions were given and couldn’t wait to just start running and warm up. The route quickly funneled into singletrack and started climbing. I felt terriible. My legs were like cement and I was gasping for air. The altitude was only 8,000’, and I usually don’t have any problems, but I sure was breathing unusually hard. I was starting too fast, and I knew it. I just hoped I could hang on for a while and settle down. Being mixed in with the 25K runners was a bit of a challenge, they are running half the distance so can afford to push it a little harder. It is a fairly common practice to start all of the distances together, and dealing with it is something I need to get better at. On a very long, rocky, singletrack climb I found myself leading a train of about a dozen runners. I was digging a whole lot deeper than I wanted to, pushing my heart rate to 170 and beyond, but didn’t want to give up my spot and then have to try and work my way through the traffic again (optimistically thinking I would feel better on the descent).

My legs and lungs were downright angry, and I finally had to relinquish my position and start letting people go by after we reached the top. I was in trouble and was having a tough time imagining how I would continue in the state I was in. I hadn’t even made it to the first aid station! Sure, I had gone out too hard – but something more than that was going on. Maybe all of the hard running I had done during the week? Lack of sleep? Terrible diet? The ice bath I took yesterday? Whatever it was, it wasn’t fun. I tried to knock away the negative thoughts and resolved that I would keep going the best that I could, and that I wouldn’t let my frustration get the better of me. I would also make an extra effort to be gracious to the volunteers, and be friendly to those around me on the trail. The beauty with ultrarunning is that having a bad race automatically qualifies as good training. So many things can go wrong, and you can’t really simulate them all in a training situation. Dealing with bad times during a race is an aquired skill that takes practice and experience to develop. If today was one of those days, I was cool with that. My challenge would be to see if I could deal with my issues and pull out of the funk, or have the fortitude (nice word for a mile-wide stubborn streak) to just keep dealing with it to the end.

Coming into aid station #1 I had my first encounter with ‘bike guy’. He was a spectator and/or volunteer that was leapfrogging the runners and would show up at trail intersections and aid stations during the first half of the race. This dude was the Tony Robbins of race spectating. Most people will give you a clap and a cheerful “looking good!”, or “keep it up!”. Not bike guy. He got close to you and in the most sincere voice would say “Man, you are running SO smooth. YOU are going to kill this thing. You are 70% done with this climb. Focus. Stay STRONG. You can DO IT!”, and in 5 seconds would have you believing that you were the best runner he had ever laid eyes on. It was amazing – at one point he even put his hand on my waist pack and gave me a small push up a hill like I was racing the Tour de France or something. Thanks bike guy! I couldn’t help but feel better after our meetings.

Shortly after the 2nd aid station around mile 10, the course split and the 25K runners headed off towards the finsh line. I was hours from the finish, in no man’s land, and still struggling. I finally backed off quite a bit and spent about 30 minutes letting everything settle down and trying to get my act together. I was tired, and my legs were sooo achy! Just before the halfway point we ran down a steeper slope for a while followed by a steep climb that I chose to hike up. It was only 5 minutes or so, but that little hiking break was what finally put me on the road to recovery. I started feeling more like myself and got stronger with each passing mile. Ok, the 2 ½ hours of sucky running was over – time to wind it up and get going!

I felt like I had a new lease on life and wasted no time making the best of it. A runner that had been locked at ¼ mile in front of me for the last hour started getting closer and closer as I ran strongly up the hills. The climbs in this section were perfect for me. Not too steep, and very long. I passed him as he took a walk break and we chatted for a moment, but I was feeling too good to linger. I set my sights on the next runner way off in the distance. It took me a good mile and a half to catch him on a long doubletrack section, but I was able to do it without increasing my effort level at all by running smartly and using some techniques Coach Karl has had me practicing. This was fun!

I got one more as we hit the 20 mile aid station. I had only been filling a bottle at the stations and was totally self sufficient with gels, so my quick stop put me ahead. I put on my iPod for the first time and rocked out as I cruised the trails through the sagebrush, over piles of boulders, and down a nice little canyon. I kept increasing the intensity bit by bit and seemed to be holding up well.

Coming down the canyon I encountered a couple of guys with shovels working on the trail. I didn’t think much of it as we exchanged greetings and I continued. Rounding a bend I was soon immersed in a huge crowd of people all working as a team on repairing erosion damage to the trail. They paused while I went through and gave me a huge cheer as I dodged wheelbarrows, rakes, picks, and shovels. Kids were clapping, dogs were barking, they made me feel like a superstar! What a fantastic group! I waved and thanked them profusely for the cheers and for the great work they were doing on the trails. The first Saturday in June is designated as National Trails Day and they were out in force to take care of their little slice of heaven. I’ll be putting in some time doing the same thing this summer.

After a short stretch of pavement, the course switchbacked up a very steep sun-baked hill. I ran up for a few minutes until it became pointless for me to continue, then shifted into a fast hike. I caught up with another runner who was obviously suffering from some painful leg cramps (I’ve felt your pain, brother). I offered him some salt caps, but he had just taken some so I wished him luck and continued on.

I rolled strong over the summit with nobody in sight ahead or behind and fought some wind that had steadily been picking up for the last little while. Soon I made a turn and was cruising down nice singletrack into the final aid station at mile 26. Just another fill of the bottle and I set off to regain all of the elevation I had just lost. The grade was uncomfortable for trying to run fast, but the worst part was looking way out to the horizon line and knowing there wasn’t going to be any relief until you made it all the way to the top. In reality it was a little over a mile, but it felt like 10.

I kicked up the pace even higher after the last aid station and was going for broke. My heart rate for that split averaged 167 which is really high for me that late in a race. Usually my legs are too tired to drive my HR up to that range. They were definitely tired and hurting, but I was pouring it on with all I had. I passed two more runners in this stretch for a total of six since the halfway point, and came within 4 seconds of another at the line. My 5:14 was good for 8th place out of 35 finishers.

Almost done!

The original goal was to break 5 hours, and I was slightly disappointed to miss it by so much, but I was very happy to have pulled out of my problems and put together a strong last half. It was only my second 50K, so I’ll have plenty of chances to improve later on.

Malcolm survived his time waiting for me and we hit Taco Bell for some much needed grub. He had lived on 3 Clif bars while I was running and was eager to get his hands on some tacos! We drove down to the very full and fast running Gunnison River where I waded in thigh deep to cool off the legs. Man, that was some COLD water! I can take a 15 minute ice bath no problem, but could only stand about 90 seconds of the river. It was so painful! After that we raced a few hundred yards back to the car. Me with frozen legs, sandals, and 31 miles of fatigue. Malcolm hopping on one leg to even the score. It was close, but he got me in the final sprint.

C-O-L-D!

Time was killed walking through the shops of Gunnison, spotting a shirt that we just have to get for my horse-loving daughter.

We spent the afternoon hanging out at the park and enjoyed talking with Dave while we waited for the awards ceremony and finisher shirts to be handed out. I badly wished we had more time to spend in the area. A trip out to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison was seriously tugging at my mind.

The Gunnison River drops an average of 43 feet per mile through the entire canyon, making it one of the steepest mountain descents in North America. In comparison, the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon drops an average of 7.5 feet per mile.

We would have to settle for the incredibly scenic drive home over the Continental Divide and through South Park. We stopped on Monarch Pass to strech our legs and take in the view. Then went to Pizza Hut for another ‘recovery’ meal. It was a great time and I was sad to see it end. It won’t be long before Malcolm is waiting on his dad again – after he’s beaten him to the finish line!

Misc Thoughts –

The course:

Hartman Rocks has been a long time host to mountain bike races, and is a great playground for trail oriented activities. One really cool thing is the 50K race was a single giant loop, which is a rare treat for a trail ultra. It was neat to always have new territory ahead. While it wasn’t extreme in nature, I did underestimate the difficulty by a long shot. Especially the first half which was full of very rocky ascents and descents. There was 5,200’ of climbing which was about double what I anticipated. Ha, this is Colorado after all… The course markings were very well done. A combination of signs and ribbons were used to keep you on the right track. According to one of the RDs at the awards ceremony, much of the course design/marking credit goes to Dave Weins – the 5 time Leadville 100 (MTB) race winner and course record holder. Thanks, Dave!

The event:

For a first year event, this was very nicely done. I’m totally happy to have made the last-minute trip down and participated. The entry fees went to a good cause (various Western State College groups), and we were more than happy to pump some funds into the Gunnison economy. Although I only took water, the aid stations looked well stocked and were perfectly spaced. The volunteers were great and very helpful. This race will definitely grow as word of the quality spreads. Nice work, everyone!

Splits:

AS 1   – 4.8mi  – 45:40
AS 2   – 10.5mi – 58:12 – 1:43
AS 3   – 15mi   – 48:08 – 2:32
AS 4   – 16.5mi – 22:31 – 2:54
AS 5   – 21.3mi – 51:32 – 3:46
AS 6   – 26mi   – 49:00 – 4:35
Finish          – 39:54 – 5:14

This is going to be a by-the-numbers race report, because that’s the kind of race it was for me. I had a plan and stuck to it really well. I ended up staying maybe a little too far on the conservative side, which resulted in a slower time than I guessed I would finish in, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

My mileage has been hovering in the mid-50 range for the past several weeks. Not a huge number, but very consistent – and it includes a lot of trail work and focus on climbing. I raced a 50 miler exactly a month ago, and I was probably not 100% recovered going into Jemez because of keeping the training load fairly high, but it was close enough. Especially since I was just using this mostly for training.

My nutrition plan was simple. Take a gel every 25 minutes, a salt cap every 50, and stay on top of my hydration level. The gel only approach has been working great. At my last race I did every 30 minutes, and it was a little too long – so a minor tweak this time around. I loaded my waist pack with 16 gels, and put 14 more in a drop bag for the Pajarito Canyon aid station at mile 28. The only downside is what to do with all of the wrappers, they add up quickly! Putting them in my shorts pocket is no good because after a while they ooze through the fabric and then my shorts are sticking to my thigh – yuck. I’ve tried putting them in one of the pockets of my pack, which worked well, but I hated to give up that storage space. I thought for a while and came up with my first ultra-running mod. I pinned socks on the back of my pack to hold the gel wrappers. The stretchy fabric was perfect for being able to shove the empty packets into and then holding on to them so they wouldn’t bounce out. It worked great!

I took Friday off of work and made the 6 hour drive to Los Alamos getting there in time to attend the pre-race briefing and dinner. The high school cafeteria was packed! The race director mentioned that the race had filled, and the Forest Service granted additional spots, and they had quickly filled as well. I think they said there were 400 runners in total (for the 50 mile, 50k, and half marathon). It was great to get a slideshow preview of the course and hear about the trail conditions. A few inches of snow on the peaks, and lots of fallen trees to climb/jump over. It was evident that there had been a TON of work put into this event.

It was great to meet and get a hug from my new Speedgoat teammate, Olga. And get some last minute words of advice and encouragment from the desert-tanned and very fit looking Coach Karl. It was obvious he’s been getting in the miles and was set for a nice little ‘training run’ of his own. I was excited and ready to take on the challenge.

With a 05:00 start time, the 03:30 wake up call came pretty early. I was already awake, and ready to get going. I made my way to the start, which I had scoped out the night before, and scored a sweet parking spot. In an effort to eliminate the bad blistering I endured at Fruita, I coated my feet in Vaseline and then put on a very thin pair of socks under a thick pair of Smartwools. I grabbed a bite to eat and hung out talking to Mike who I had run with at the Bear 100 last year. One thing I loved about this race is that even though there were 3 distances being offered, the start times were each 1 hour apart. Nice! The 50 milers were the first to go. They announced there were 130 starters and then spun us in a 180 to get us pointed in the correct direction – oops! Off into the darkness we went.

My plan was to take it really easy at the beginning, and generally easy for the whole first 35 miles. Then run it in from there with whatever I had left. Taking it really easy at the start was… really easy. Because I felt blah. I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep, tired legs, or what, but my body didn’t want to move very quickly. That was ok. It didn’t bother me a bit, and I just settled in to a comfortable pace and didn’t get concerned at all when people would pass me.

The first 6 miles were gently rolling and I was able to turn my headlamp off after 30 minutes or so. The trail went thorugh some dry stream beds and some fun contours on the hillside that had me smiling. At around mile 4 I noticed a guy with purple gaiters go running by. Hey, I recognize those! It was Kirk Apt, a very accomplished ultra runner who had come flying by me with half a mile to go at the Fruita 50 miler last month. He ran a very smart race there, with just a 15 minute positive split – compared to my dismal 1 hour. I knew he would be a ‘good wheel to follow’ (in cycling lingo), but resisted the urge to speed up and stay with him. I was going to be running my own race today. It was just as well, I passed him about a mile later while he was adjusting his pack. That was a good lesson to me – breaking out of your own rhythm to run someone else’s pace is rarely a good idea in these events. There are always nature calls to answer, things to adjust, aid station stops, etc. that will make lead changes frequent. If someone is really stronger than you, there isn’t a whole lot you can do about it. You have to run your own race, manage the course, and let it take care of doing the sorting out.

I reached the first aid station (Mitchell Trailhead @ mile 4.9) in 57 minutes. Wow, I really was taking it easy. Karl later told me their lead group reached this point in 32 minutes or something crazy like that. They were hauling! We had climbed a little over 900′ to that point. I topped off my bottle and was on my way in about 30 seconds.

Next up was a 1,500′ climb over 2.2 miles to the next aid station on Guaje Ridge. I was still going really slow, but starting to feel better and better. As soon as the climb got really steep, I could feel blisters forming on the soles of my feet – not again!! My feet were sliding all over inside my shoes. I pulled off the trail and completely retied them, making them snug. That felt so much better that I did it again in another half of a mile. I cranked them down so much that the eyelets were nearly touching! I couldn’t believe it. My feet aren’t that narrow, and I was wearing two pairs of socks! It was time well spent, and although it was touch-and-go at times, I never developed any real blisters.

I arrived at the Guaje Ridge aid station at mile 7.1 in 42 minutes, 1:39 elapsed. Topped off the water bottle again and got ready for the first real descent. Over 1,000′ down into Guaje Canyon. This was a really cool trail. Very narrow, and lots of short switchbacks pasted on to the hillside. It seemed like you would run straight for about 25 feet, then crank a 180 around a hairpin switchback, then repeat over and over. I was now totally warmed up and feeling fine.

There was a gentle climb up the lush canyon bottom where we hopped a small stream several times. It was very pretty in this area, and the running was great. I passed the time chatting with some other runners for a mile or two. Soon we came to a ladder next to a waterfall. I can’t say that I had ever climbed a ladder during a run before. It was a cool addition and the first of many obstacles we would face during the day.

Up you go

Photo credit: Olga Varlamova

Soon we arrived at the Caballo Base aid station (:45 split/2:25 elapsed) and a sign indicating we were facing an 1,800′ climb in 2 miles. I was second in line with a group of 4 or 5 that included Kirk, who had caught back up, and we headed up at a very consistent pace. After a few minutes Nate flew by, then shortly after that was Karl (Kyle had already finished the out-and-back by the time we started). It was only the second time I’ve seen Karl run in person, he levitated down the trail – very cool. As we got closer to the top, there was a steady stream of runners coming down the trail at us. I kept track of the count just for fun. There were also many downed trees laying over the trail that we had to climb over. The volunteers did an outstanding job in clearing much of the trail, but this section was just a little too remote for them this early in the year. They even used llamas to pack water and supplies to the top of the mountain for a small aid station there. As if a 20% slope wasn’t enough to keep us occupied, we were also going through several inches of new snow which made traction a little scarce at times. The trail leveled off for the last little bit to the turnaround at the top of Caballo Mountain which I hit in 56th place (mile 12.1 – :49 split / 3:14 elapsed).

Run to the tree and turn around

Photo credit: Olga Varlamova

Now it was time to have a little fun. I ran fairly casually for the first part of the descent and soon caught up with another runner. She offered to let me by, but I told her I was fine – unless I came rolling by… It was steep! After a minute or two, more runners started to stack up behind us so she stepped aside on a switchback. Now I was leading a train of 5-6 people, time to quit sandbagging and RUN. I was on the very edge of control for much of the descent, leaping logs in full flight, landing on snowy switchbacks, carving the corners, dodging a few rocks and all the time thinking that if I eat it there are going to be about a dozen trail shoe footprints going right up my back. That was fun!

Another quick water stop at the Caballo Base AS, then we continued the climb up the canyon. It was starting to get hot here, and several people were really struggling. I felt pretty good and passed several others. The rolling trail got steeper and steeper as we gained 1,000′ going up the headwall of the canyon finally reaching a nice runnable section with some amazing views into the vast Valle Grande Caldera.

Before I knew it, I was rolling into the Pipeline aid station (mile 17 – 4:24 elapsed). This was a large aid station with many people milling around. True to form, I grabbed some water and was out of there. My energy level was staying just about right so far. Sticking with the plan… A volunteer directed me to two orange flags spaced about 15 feet apart on the edge of a cliff overlooking the caldera. It looked like a launching pad for hang gliders! Unfortunately, I didn’t go very fast on this part. I wasn’t wearing any gaiters over my shoes and the dirt was soft and deep. I was being careful not to load my shoes up with rocks and junk. After the really steep descent it was pretty nice running for the next few miles across the bottom of the caldera. I wish I could have felt a little better to take advantage of it, but I was starting to struggle just a tiny bit. My legs ached something fierce. In fact, they had been waking me up at night for the week before the race because they would just ache so much. I ran the best I could and knew that things would be better if I just pushed through. I hit the Valle Grande aid station (mile 21 – :44 split / 5:08 elapsed), grabbed water and a couple of cookies, then headed through the grass for the cross-country section of the course.

Follow the flags through the grass

Photo Credit: Bill Geist

The grass was a kind of clumpy, making running a little bit difficult, but the view was outstanding and I was starting to feel a lot better. We climbed gradually through the grass and everyone seemed to slow down quite a bit. Most people were looking very worn out. Soon, we came to a large talus slope full of furniture-sized boulders. I had a blast hopping up and over the rocks. I passed several more people in this section.

Two markers are easy to spot, look really close to find the third

Photo Credit: Jeff O’Reilly

Wobbly legs + wobbly rocks made for a good challenge. This section was a new addition to the course this year. I loved it. I made it through unscathed and started up the very steep hillside through the trees. This climb was so steep in places that I was actually grabbing on to trees and using them to haul myself up. I was barely moving, but I was still passing people! I think I ended up passing around 15 or so from just before the boulders to the top of the peak. It was a 7 mile stretch between aid stations here, so I made sure to keep hydrated and fueled for the long haul. We crested Cerro Grande, which was the 2nd of 3 10k+ foot peaks of the day, and headed into a long, long, descent down Cañon de Valle. The trail was steep, snowy, and muddy at first. Soon it gave way to a gentle downhill grade and some really nice running. I held a good steady pace for several miles on this trail.

Sweet trail in the CdV

Photo Credit: Olga Varlamova

After descending the canyon, the course swung north and made its way over to the Pajarito Canyon aid station (mile 28 – 1:57 split / 7:06 elapsed). We were more or less on the way back to Los Alamos now. All of the aid stations were great, the volunteers and spectators were top notch and their support and assistance was very much appreciated. Pajarito was cool because it was one of the more easily accessible spots on the course, so there was a lot of people there. It was a blast to come running in feeling strong with all the cheering and cowbells ringing. They were scoping out our race numbers with binoculars so they could have our drop bags ready to hand to us as soon as we rolled in. What great service! This would be my longest stop of the day at about 2-3 minutes. I spent time reloading my pack with gels and having fun trading smart remarks with the volunteers. They couldn’t believe how fresh I looked.

Now I was in a bit of no-man’s land, going it alone for a while. The trail headed back up another canyon that would take us to the base of Pajarito Ski Resort. It got a little warm in this section, but I was drinking enough and generally doing alright. I caught up to a couple of guys and not much was said as we all plugged away on the incline. I was last (3rd) in line about a mile from the ski resort when I thought I heard a stick crack behind me. Feeling a little tired, I just shrugged it off and kept going. A minute later I heard it again. This time I turned around to see Kirk right there. Where had he come from!?! There hadn’t been anyone behind me for miles it seemed, then poof, there he was. Uh-oh, I thought, he’s gonna take us to school now. This time I sped up a little to keep pace and the 4 of us hit the Pajarito Base aid station together (mile 32 – 1:07 / split 8:14). I didn’t know it at the time, but Kyle Skaggs had already finished the race at this point! He ran a very strong 8:08 to take a minute of his own course record – and the course was longer and more difficult this year. Great performance!

I was first out of the aid station and started to push the pace just a little bit. Kirk came cruising by me and I couldn’t keep up, he looked like he was really in his element now. I did what I could and tried to keep a steady pace going. There were some very steep snowy sections of trail that wound through the trees before we ended up on one of the ski runs and just headed straight for the top. I was beginning to feel the effort of the day, and started to feel tired for the first time. I was glad to top out on the climb, then had to hustle out of there as a hail storm was whipping things up. Thankfully it didn’t get too bad.

Reaching the top of Pajarito, feeling a little beat at this point

Photo Credit: Jim Stein

The course came around some trees and then pointed straight down a double black diamond run. I was glad to still have some quads left, I was going to need them! It was really really steep for a while, then mellowed out to just really steep. I soon caught sight of the ski lodge at the bottom and knew that would be my next stop. I reached the ski lodge aid station (mile 36 – 1:10 split / 9:25 elapsed) and looked at my watch for the first time all day. 9:25! No wonder I was just now getting tired, I really had been taking my time. In planning for the race, I had loosely estimated 8 1/2 hours to get to this point (I also forgot to factor in the 2 additional miles and 3rd 10k’ peak). Oh, well. Just a good training run in the mountains.

Now it was time to run it in with whatever I had left. I put my iPod on for the first time all day, slammed a gel, and started running. Next stop, finish line!

I ran all the way to the next aid station (Pipeline – :39 split / 10:04 elapsed) which was all uphill, and kept right on going. I had enough water to get to the next one. There were two more hills coming out of Pipeline that caught me a little bit off guard. They looked pretty intimidating, but went by pretty fast. After that, it was back on singletrack through the forest and down, down, down. This part of the course was really cool, there were sections that felt and looked like Oregon – then you’d round a corner and be in the middle of a desert. A very fast bottle fill at the Guaje Ridge AS and I kept right on going, jamming to the tunes and feeling a little tired – but good.

The Rendija Canyon aid station (:55 split / 11:39 elapsed) came at 2 miles to go. I stopped for another bottle fill, but should have just kept on going. I thought it was very strange now that I was ‘racing’, I saw basically no one. I think I only passed 2 or 3 people in the last 15 miles of the race. Ocassionaly I would glance back and see nothing but empty trail. I kept a strong pace up the little canyon that led to the final climb before the finish. As I was negotiating the final steep section of trail, I looked back and there was Kirk. Only 20 yards behind me! For about the fifth time today, he had materialized from out of nowhere right on my heels. I had visions of me eating his dust at the Fruita finish line and kicked it in with all I had for the last 1/3 mile. It was enough, and I came across the line in 12:04, 26th place. It was great to finally meet Kirk and talk about our races. I’ve learned a lot of good things by watching how he approaches racing. I felt very satisfied with the day. When Karl asked how it went, my one word answer was ‘textbook’. I was hoping to have finished a little faster, but wouldn’t go back and change anything. It turned out just right. Moving up 30 spots after mile 12 was a good outcome. Karl had a good training day of his own, cruising to a second place 8:58 – nice!

I can’t say enough good about the race and the organization. The guys and gals down in Los Alamos really know how to do it right! The hand crafted pottery and commemorative poster were excellent finishers awards. The volunteers were outstanding, and the trails spectacular. Hanging out with Karl, Kirk, Kyle, Olga, and Roch in the beautiful evening weather was a perfect ending to a nearly perfect day. This race had me smiling for many days afterwards, I kept wishing I was back in Los Alamos. I loved it!

Pottery

Poster

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