I signed up for the inaugural edition of the Coastal 50K a point to point run from Stinson Beach to Rodeo Beach as I thought it was a cool idea and was worried the race would sell out.
As Saturday got closer, I got less excited. I wasn't 100% from running 32 on Ragnar. I'd cut my running back to 3 miles on Tuesday and 4 miles on Wednesday, and took Thursday and Friday off. On Friday, I wanted to go to happy hour and see a movie, not go to bed early for an early wakeup to catch the 6:30 AM bus from Rodeo to Stinson.
I pulled up to Rodeo Beach at 6:29 AM along with 3 other cars, as the bus started to pull away. "Hold the bus!", I cried. "You're TOO LATE", was Wendell's reply. Uh-oh. But I bought a ticket! Wendell unloaded cartons of bananas and water and stuffed me and two other guys into the race van. n my hurry to hop in the van, I left half of my scoobies in my car. So I had ~540 calories for 31 miles.
His crankiness was actually because 10 people had shown up without bus tickets, overfilling the bus. Wendell said yesterday it had gotten hot in the middle of the day. "No, I ran Headlands Marathon and Headlands 50, and we never saw the sun for the fog".
Wendell explained the course, including a short out and back on TCC where we had to grab a hair elastic to prove we'd done it. "I'll start the race in one and a half minutes." I thought I had enough time to go to the bathroom and come back. When I came back, all runners were gone and they shooed me up the course. Well, at least I knew where I was…DFL.
Stinson Beach to Cardiac: I took about an hour for the hike up Dipsea and Steep Ravine. A quick pit stop at Pan Toll, then out and back on TCC. On TCC I passed my first runner, and was now AFL. On the out I could see how far runners were in front of me. A quick lung bust up to Cardiac, and I passed another runner. I refilled my pack at Cardiac.
Cardiac to Muir Beach: All downhill. I passed 4 more runners. My biggest annoyance was my constantly fogged glasses. At Muir Beach, I asked the volunteer if the course went over Coyote Ridge as I thought it did. "Just follow the flags". "But does it go over Coyote Ridge?" "It goes to Tennessee Valley". The runner after me asked the volunteer "What's your next race?" and got a snapped reply of "TENNESSEE VALLEY".
Muir Beach to Tennessee Valley: Ok, this section is much harder than it looks on paper. Up Coastal. Down Pirates Cove. UP Pirates cove. And then, up the thick fog to ~1300 foot Coyote Ridge. I wished there was a 30K option. I thought about DNF'ing and cutting down to Rodeo. Why was I here? What was I doing? Then I told myself I was getting mentally tough for JFK 50. Finally down Miwok to Tennessee Valley. Tennessee Valley had only one cup of Coke left, which I downed.
Tennessee Valley to Rodeo Valley: I walked Marincello, then cruised down Bobcat to Rodeo. Larry was the aid station volunteer. "Wow, you passed a TON of people since you started last at Panoramic Highway (by Stinson)". "YEP!" They'd run out of Coke so I drank Sprite.
Rodeo Valley to Golden Gate: I walked up Rodeo. I'd been flip-flopping with Jason--I was faster on the downs, but he was a stronger up. When I got to Golden Gate, they were out of Coke. If one aid station runs out of Coke, why do all the others run out?
Golden Gate to Rodeo Valley. I started caring about time. If I busted it, I could finish at 7:30. I walked up the first part of the hill with Kate, who's son had taken second already! I was on my home turf, and I slammed out a 15 minute time on the 1.7 miles from Coastal to Rodeo Valley
Rodeo Valley to Rodeo Beach: I've run this section in practice so many times. It's hard to stay mentally tough for the last road stretch. I trundled in at 7:29:58.
Lessons learned:
1) I can talk myself out of rough patches
2) I need to leave 15 minutes earlier than I do for races when there's a bus so I'm not frantic.
3) 50K isn't that far (quoting Karl Meltzer).
Splits
M time rough pace
5.8 1:38 0:16
5.1 51:03 :10
5.2 1:29 0:17
4.6 1:07 0:14
4.6 1:08 0:14
4.2 56:02 13:20
1.7 17:22 10:12
Monday, September 26, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Ragnar Relay: San Francisco to Napa
24 hours in a van…31 miles running
Ragnar Relay SF to Napa is ~190 miles split between 36 legs. Runners usually run 3 legs. A college friend had asked me awhile ago if I'd be on his team "Sure!". Then I'd forgotten about it til I got an email 10 days before the race. Then the team was short runners, so Matt asked me if I could "double up" and run double legs. "Sure, I'm an ultra runner!"
The race started Friday, so my plan was to work most of the day Friday, then take the afternoon express bus up to Petaluma to meet the team and run legs 11 and 12. The bus, which should have gotten me there an hour ahead of time, was late. John (my other college buddy) scooped me up, but when we got to the relay another runner had JUST left to run 8.9 miles. One van went to go get him and return him. Then I was off.
Leg 11 was 8.9 from the rolling farm country outside Petaluma into the heart of Petaluma. The sun was setting over the fields, and it was a beautiful rural day. Vans would stop along the way and cheer me on. Then I realized they were cheering on their runners coming up behind to pass me. I strategically walked three steep hills, as I knew I had ~30 more miles to go. I met Cory and Marco (my van mates) for the first time when they stopped to give me Gatorade. As we got closer to the exchange, the runners passing me said "C'mon, we're almost there! Pick up the pace!" But I knew I wasn't there, as I had 2.7 after.
Exchange: I felt like a race car driver as I glugged Gatorade while Matt clipped on a reflective vest, rear blinker, and front headlamp.
Leg 12 was 2.7 miles through the heart of Petaluma with numerous stoplights, over the 101 and through some shopping malls. Not very scenic. I handed the slap bracelet off to van 1.
Matt, Cory, Marco and I got an awesome burger & brew at Brody's Burger in Santa Rosa. Then we sacked out at a high school gym from 10:45 to midnight. All to soon it was time to get the exchange from van 1, as we were running through the night.
Marco's leg was in pitch darkness, and Cory was steaming from the cold night when he finished. While Matt was running his double legs, we went to find me caffiene. I bought all the things one buys at an all night gas station--coca-cola, double shots and Reeses. I was trying not to psyche myself out with my back to back 8.3 then 9.0 legs.
Exchange 22: Marco and I waiting in the dark at a park around 4 AM for Matt to come in after 10 miles. There were only a couple other vans. A guy started yelling "You think you're so cool YELLING and SCREAMING while I'm TRYING to SLEEP. YOU GUYS SUCK". It was odd as at the time really the only sound was the guy yelling at us.
Leg 23: 8.3 miles from Howarth Park on the outskirts of Santa Rosa along Highway 12. There wasn't van support allowed, so it was just me running on the shoulder. There were a few gas stations and a 7-11, and then I was really out in the country underneath the near full moon. I loved it. I turned off my headlamp and ran by moonlight. I could see cars approaching way in the distance, and I'd turn on my headlamp so they could see me. Otherwise I just ran. Around mile 5 was a pleasant surprise of a pallet of water as an unmanned water stop. I drank around a half bottle to wash down my emergency Excedrin.
Exchange 23: a most welcome bathroom. When I sat in the bathroom at 5:30 AM, I thought I was hallucinating because I saw flashes of red. Then I realized it was my own taillight. I gulped another Double Shot, grabbed a new pack of snacks. On the next 9 miles, there was van support, and I asked Marco to start meeting me every 3 miles with Gatorade.
Leg 24: The shoulder waxed and waned. I was hoping for a sunrise, but the sky just gradually changed from black to gray. Marco giving me Gatorade helped break up my journey as I felt fatigue setting in. In retrospect, I think I wasn't eating enough. There was a public porta-potty in Glen Ellen, and when I started running again I noticed blood on my arm. My mind flashed through many theories of where this blood was coming from, all of which were fairly gross. Answer? My thigh chafe was so bad it was oozing blood. Gross. Finally I saw the one mile to go sign, and I was at the exchange!
Exchange 24: Until 9 AM, the school auditorium was open for sleeping. I sacked out on the stage in the darkness for about 40 minutes. Too wired from caffeine to sleep, but it felt darn good to be lying down.
Marco, Matt, Cory and I had a great breakfast at Community Cafe with $5 mimosas. Cory is the guy I want in my van, as he led the Mimosa Train.
Exchange 30: The RagMag said there was sleeping here. There was no sleeping, only an open field with some tents. I laid on the ground in the shade of a tent. The day was getting quite warm. Here's where the relay started to fall apart. We'd projected a 5 pm finish. We were running a little behind, and now thought we'd finish at 6 PM, in plenty of time for the 8 pm finish.
But Tammy, our leg 29 runner, was missing. She hadn't come in from her leg. The course officials said for van 2 to start so we wouldn't get behind. We tried to figure out how we could a) run our legs and pick up runners and b) find Tammy. John started running leg 30. Marco started running leg 31. Matt tried to figure out what to do, when we got a text from Marco. Tammy was on HIS leg, and he sent us a GoogleMaps pin of where he'd seen her. Matt said the absolute right thing "I don't care about the race time or finish, we need to find Tammy, NOW." We dropped Cory off and found Tammy, disoriented and thirsty after wandering around for 9 miles.
Exchange 34: We'd dropped Matt for his 7.9 leg. The day had heated up to 86 degrees, and we realized we were almost out of water. We made a quick pit stop at Oakville Grocery, and also bought chips for Matt. Cory and I ate almost all the chips while waiting.
Leg 36: The final 5.2 miles. It was hot, I was underfed, my thighs chafed, my feet were blistered, and there was a strong hot breeze against me. At least the St Helena scenery was beautiful. The ending was anti-climatic--I turned off the road into an ankle turning field, and ran under an arch with the team.
Lessons learned:
Bring bodyglide. always
Running in the dark is fun
Mimosas make everything better
Marco can be my crew anytime!
I love relays
I called it a "hell" of an experience, cause honestly some parts were hellish. Not knowing where Tammy was was terrible. Long stretches of road with a narrow shoulder were worrisome. Getting dehydrated and hungry was no fun. But getting to hang out with friends and see some beautiful roads is a hell of a time!
Ragnar Relay SF to Napa is ~190 miles split between 36 legs. Runners usually run 3 legs. A college friend had asked me awhile ago if I'd be on his team "Sure!". Then I'd forgotten about it til I got an email 10 days before the race. Then the team was short runners, so Matt asked me if I could "double up" and run double legs. "Sure, I'm an ultra runner!"
The race started Friday, so my plan was to work most of the day Friday, then take the afternoon express bus up to Petaluma to meet the team and run legs 11 and 12. The bus, which should have gotten me there an hour ahead of time, was late. John (my other college buddy) scooped me up, but when we got to the relay another runner had JUST left to run 8.9 miles. One van went to go get him and return him. Then I was off.
Leg 11 was 8.9 from the rolling farm country outside Petaluma into the heart of Petaluma. The sun was setting over the fields, and it was a beautiful rural day. Vans would stop along the way and cheer me on. Then I realized they were cheering on their runners coming up behind to pass me. I strategically walked three steep hills, as I knew I had ~30 more miles to go. I met Cory and Marco (my van mates) for the first time when they stopped to give me Gatorade. As we got closer to the exchange, the runners passing me said "C'mon, we're almost there! Pick up the pace!" But I knew I wasn't there, as I had 2.7 after.
Exchange: I felt like a race car driver as I glugged Gatorade while Matt clipped on a reflective vest, rear blinker, and front headlamp.
Leg 12 was 2.7 miles through the heart of Petaluma with numerous stoplights, over the 101 and through some shopping malls. Not very scenic. I handed the slap bracelet off to van 1.
Matt, Cory, Marco and I got an awesome burger & brew at Brody's Burger in Santa Rosa. Then we sacked out at a high school gym from 10:45 to midnight. All to soon it was time to get the exchange from van 1, as we were running through the night.
Marco's leg was in pitch darkness, and Cory was steaming from the cold night when he finished. While Matt was running his double legs, we went to find me caffiene. I bought all the things one buys at an all night gas station--coca-cola, double shots and Reeses. I was trying not to psyche myself out with my back to back 8.3 then 9.0 legs.
Exchange 22: Marco and I waiting in the dark at a park around 4 AM for Matt to come in after 10 miles. There were only a couple other vans. A guy started yelling "You think you're so cool YELLING and SCREAMING while I'm TRYING to SLEEP. YOU GUYS SUCK". It was odd as at the time really the only sound was the guy yelling at us.
Leg 23: 8.3 miles from Howarth Park on the outskirts of Santa Rosa along Highway 12. There wasn't van support allowed, so it was just me running on the shoulder. There were a few gas stations and a 7-11, and then I was really out in the country underneath the near full moon. I loved it. I turned off my headlamp and ran by moonlight. I could see cars approaching way in the distance, and I'd turn on my headlamp so they could see me. Otherwise I just ran. Around mile 5 was a pleasant surprise of a pallet of water as an unmanned water stop. I drank around a half bottle to wash down my emergency Excedrin.
Exchange 23: a most welcome bathroom. When I sat in the bathroom at 5:30 AM, I thought I was hallucinating because I saw flashes of red. Then I realized it was my own taillight. I gulped another Double Shot, grabbed a new pack of snacks. On the next 9 miles, there was van support, and I asked Marco to start meeting me every 3 miles with Gatorade.
Leg 24: The shoulder waxed and waned. I was hoping for a sunrise, but the sky just gradually changed from black to gray. Marco giving me Gatorade helped break up my journey as I felt fatigue setting in. In retrospect, I think I wasn't eating enough. There was a public porta-potty in Glen Ellen, and when I started running again I noticed blood on my arm. My mind flashed through many theories of where this blood was coming from, all of which were fairly gross. Answer? My thigh chafe was so bad it was oozing blood. Gross. Finally I saw the one mile to go sign, and I was at the exchange!
Exchange 24: Until 9 AM, the school auditorium was open for sleeping. I sacked out on the stage in the darkness for about 40 minutes. Too wired from caffeine to sleep, but it felt darn good to be lying down.
Marco, Matt, Cory and I had a great breakfast at Community Cafe with $5 mimosas. Cory is the guy I want in my van, as he led the Mimosa Train.
Exchange 30: The RagMag said there was sleeping here. There was no sleeping, only an open field with some tents. I laid on the ground in the shade of a tent. The day was getting quite warm. Here's where the relay started to fall apart. We'd projected a 5 pm finish. We were running a little behind, and now thought we'd finish at 6 PM, in plenty of time for the 8 pm finish.
But Tammy, our leg 29 runner, was missing. She hadn't come in from her leg. The course officials said for van 2 to start so we wouldn't get behind. We tried to figure out how we could a) run our legs and pick up runners and b) find Tammy. John started running leg 30. Marco started running leg 31. Matt tried to figure out what to do, when we got a text from Marco. Tammy was on HIS leg, and he sent us a GoogleMaps pin of where he'd seen her. Matt said the absolute right thing "I don't care about the race time or finish, we need to find Tammy, NOW." We dropped Cory off and found Tammy, disoriented and thirsty after wandering around for 9 miles.
Exchange 34: We'd dropped Matt for his 7.9 leg. The day had heated up to 86 degrees, and we realized we were almost out of water. We made a quick pit stop at Oakville Grocery, and also bought chips for Matt. Cory and I ate almost all the chips while waiting.
Leg 36: The final 5.2 miles. It was hot, I was underfed, my thighs chafed, my feet were blistered, and there was a strong hot breeze against me. At least the St Helena scenery was beautiful. The ending was anti-climatic--I turned off the road into an ankle turning field, and ran under an arch with the team.
Lessons learned:
Bring bodyglide. always
Running in the dark is fun
Mimosas make everything better
Marco can be my crew anytime!
I love relays
I called it a "hell" of an experience, cause honestly some parts were hellish. Not knowing where Tammy was was terrible. Long stretches of road with a narrow shoulder were worrisome. Getting dehydrated and hungry was no fun. But getting to hang out with friends and see some beautiful roads is a hell of a time!
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sequoia 30K
How (not) To Run Sequoia 30K
1. Carry a course map.
2. Don't assume the runner in front of you knows the way.
3. Carry lots of water.
I had ample time to reflect on rules 1, 2, and 3 of trail running as I broke all three. Many familiar faces at the start of the Sequoia 30K-- Brian, Greg's trainer, Misha, Karen & Coach Ken, and Marshall Ulrich and his wife Heather Ulrich.
Marshall & Heather were super friendly. I said "I admired your book and your run--I bicycled cross country, and it was hard riding, much less running." And Marshall was impressed! By my bike ride! The man is an unbelievable LEGEND. In the book I'd wished there were more photos of Heather, and she is so sweet in person. If I ever run cross country, I want her on my support team. She, however, might not want to do it ever again.
Started off through a beautiful dirt trail, weaving in and out of shadow and light under a thick canopy of redwoods. The course was a "pink loop (20K) with an orange out and back section of 10K. Melissa and I were chatting, my foot caught on an invisible root and I fell heavily into her, almost taking her down too. She pushed me back upright. Sorry Melissa!
I was surprised by how quick the first aid station was (34 minutes), and got a quick refill from Kevin Luu. Then I was surprised how far the next aid station was. The As I was thinking about how I had to go to the bathroom, my foot caught on another invisible root and I wiped out. About a mile further, thinking how I needed to not think about the bathroom, I wiped out again. I was filthy, covered from head to toe in dirt, even up my stomach.
At the next aid station at the "out" of the orange spur, the volunteer picked up the cooler and gave me a makeshift shower. I was more than half way through, and after drinking several cups of craz cliff shot, felt great. Walked back up the hill to finish the pink loop.
As I got to the end of the orange loop, a runner started down the pink loop. As I caught her, she said "I'm not sure if this is the right way.". It wasn't. We backtracked along the pink loop. When the 50K runners (doing a second loop) saw us, we knew we'd gone the wrong, longer way, and the heart went out of me. I was thirsty.
When I got FINALLY to the aid station again, Catra Corbett lectured me for "not carrying a map" AND "don't follow the runner in front of you blindly". Thanks, Catra.
At the end, Scott Dunlap said I'd probably run closer to 35K or 37K. Doh! So Karen finished ahead of me.
Getting bonus miles in aside, it was a beautiful course.
Lesson's learned:
Carry my hydration pack on hot days
Carry a map
Don't follow the runner in front of me blindly
The 10K spur out and back is not as scenic as the 20K course
1. Carry a course map.
2. Don't assume the runner in front of you knows the way.
3. Carry lots of water.
I had ample time to reflect on rules 1, 2, and 3 of trail running as I broke all three. Many familiar faces at the start of the Sequoia 30K-- Brian, Greg's trainer, Misha, Karen & Coach Ken, and Marshall Ulrich and his wife Heather Ulrich.
Marshall & Heather were super friendly. I said "I admired your book and your run--I bicycled cross country, and it was hard riding, much less running." And Marshall was impressed! By my bike ride! The man is an unbelievable LEGEND. In the book I'd wished there were more photos of Heather, and she is so sweet in person. If I ever run cross country, I want her on my support team. She, however, might not want to do it ever again.
Started off through a beautiful dirt trail, weaving in and out of shadow and light under a thick canopy of redwoods. The course was a "pink loop (20K) with an orange out and back section of 10K. Melissa and I were chatting, my foot caught on an invisible root and I fell heavily into her, almost taking her down too. She pushed me back upright. Sorry Melissa!
I was surprised by how quick the first aid station was (34 minutes), and got a quick refill from Kevin Luu. Then I was surprised how far the next aid station was. The As I was thinking about how I had to go to the bathroom, my foot caught on another invisible root and I wiped out. About a mile further, thinking how I needed to not think about the bathroom, I wiped out again. I was filthy, covered from head to toe in dirt, even up my stomach.
At the next aid station at the "out" of the orange spur, the volunteer picked up the cooler and gave me a makeshift shower. I was more than half way through, and after drinking several cups of craz cliff shot, felt great. Walked back up the hill to finish the pink loop.
As I got to the end of the orange loop, a runner started down the pink loop. As I caught her, she said "I'm not sure if this is the right way.". It wasn't. We backtracked along the pink loop. When the 50K runners (doing a second loop) saw us, we knew we'd gone the wrong, longer way, and the heart went out of me. I was thirsty.
When I got FINALLY to the aid station again, Catra Corbett lectured me for "not carrying a map" AND "don't follow the runner in front of you blindly". Thanks, Catra.
At the end, Scott Dunlap said I'd probably run closer to 35K or 37K. Doh! So Karen finished ahead of me.
Getting bonus miles in aside, it was a beautiful course.
Lesson's learned:
Carry my hydration pack on hot days
Carry a map
Don't follow the runner in front of me blindly
The 10K spur out and back is not as scenic as the 20K course
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Pre Sequoia 30k
After licking my wounds post Headlands 100 for two weeks, I put together a fairly solid week of training
Monday: 4 miles around Buena Vista Hill and back on Page St, just testing out my fitness
Tuesday: 8 miles Ran to Ocean Beach, had supper at Outerlands, walked up Judah till the N streetcar came, then ran up from Cole Valley to Twin Peaks
Wed: 4 miles on Dolores: ran to 30th and back, ran the whole way
Thur: 3 miles easy, around Buena Vista Hill
Fri: off.
Saturday: 6 miles gentle up Rodeo Valley to SCA, down Coastal. Thick fog the whole way. I felt great and wanted to go further, but Sequoia 30K was on Sunday and wanted plenty in the tank. My friend Karen is running and I don't want to be cougared.
The week has given me more confidence--my IT band hasn't flared up, my ankle is decent. I put on weight while I wasn't running that I'm not too happy about--I hope it will evaporate once I get more consistent.
My goal for Sequoia 30K: under 4 hours, and seeing Marshall Ulrich!
Monday: 4 miles around Buena Vista Hill and back on Page St, just testing out my fitness
Tuesday: 8 miles Ran to Ocean Beach, had supper at Outerlands, walked up Judah till the N streetcar came, then ran up from Cole Valley to Twin Peaks
Wed: 4 miles on Dolores: ran to 30th and back, ran the whole way
Thur: 3 miles easy, around Buena Vista Hill
Fri: off.
Saturday: 6 miles gentle up Rodeo Valley to SCA, down Coastal. Thick fog the whole way. I felt great and wanted to go further, but Sequoia 30K was on Sunday and wanted plenty in the tank. My friend Karen is running and I don't want to be cougared.
The week has given me more confidence--my IT band hasn't flared up, my ankle is decent. I put on weight while I wasn't running that I'm not too happy about--I hope it will evaporate once I get more consistent.
My goal for Sequoia 30K: under 4 hours, and seeing Marshall Ulrich!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sweated it out in Austin, next race Sequoia 30K
After taking 10 days off to see if my IT band would ease up, I'm back running, and it feels good, in a "I can't believe I got out of shape so quickly, but I love running" way. I procrastinated on Wednesday, fearing the worst. Did a gentle run on Dolores to Clipper and back. On Thursday I ran the Buena Vista Loop. Never pushed the pace, just wanted to get confidence back. Friday I flew to Austin and sat by the pool until it was almost too late, as I was meeting friends at 7 pm. Slammed out a quick 25 minutes around Town Lake down Lamar and back across Congress. The running trail was my old buddy, and the Austin heat couldn't beat me.
Then on Saturday I decided I'd run down to MoPac bridge and back, roughly 4.5 miles. The first 10 minutes was okay. Then I found myself wishing I'd stopped at the last water fountain. I went as slow as possible to conserve energy Then the wheels fell off, and I kinda staggered back into the hotel, 50 minutes of sunny heat later. I drank water from the hotel cooler, greatly concerning the desk lady who said it was 108 degrees and I looked like I was dying. I came down 10 minutes later after standing in a cold shower, and she said I looked less dead.
I got to be good friends with the cooler lady as I stopped by every time I entered or left the lobby to try to hydrate myself. I found out later that it had (only) been 105 when I was running. But it was a dry heat :) I only wish I'd jumped into Town Lake, it looked so cool and refreshing.
I'd planned to run Headlands 50K, but was waiting to enter till I felt more confident about my leg. The $95 race fee was also a turn off. Then Coach Ken wrote to say that Karen was running Sequoia this weekend AND Marshall Ulrich will be there! I think I'll run the 30K as a confidence builder and time check. Uh-oh, what if Karen beats me! I'll be cougared!
Seeing friends is always great. They think I'm crazy for ENTERING a 100 Mile race, and it's nice to feel comfy being me. I loved running in Austin--but it's only after moving to SF I've moved up into ultras. The cool weather? Or Greg as a running buddy?
Goals for 2011:
Finish JFK in 11 hours (10 would be nice)
um…I guess that's it. I'll run some opportunistic races. I'm pondering 100 possibilities.
Plans for week:
4-5 miles Monday
Tues- run to beach (?)
Wed run with Endurables
Thurs 4-5 miles
Then on Saturday I decided I'd run down to MoPac bridge and back, roughly 4.5 miles. The first 10 minutes was okay. Then I found myself wishing I'd stopped at the last water fountain. I went as slow as possible to conserve energy Then the wheels fell off, and I kinda staggered back into the hotel, 50 minutes of sunny heat later. I drank water from the hotel cooler, greatly concerning the desk lady who said it was 108 degrees and I looked like I was dying. I came down 10 minutes later after standing in a cold shower, and she said I looked less dead.
I got to be good friends with the cooler lady as I stopped by every time I entered or left the lobby to try to hydrate myself. I found out later that it had (only) been 105 when I was running. But it was a dry heat :) I only wish I'd jumped into Town Lake, it looked so cool and refreshing.
I'd planned to run Headlands 50K, but was waiting to enter till I felt more confident about my leg. The $95 race fee was also a turn off. Then Coach Ken wrote to say that Karen was running Sequoia this weekend AND Marshall Ulrich will be there! I think I'll run the 30K as a confidence builder and time check. Uh-oh, what if Karen beats me! I'll be cougared!
Seeing friends is always great. They think I'm crazy for ENTERING a 100 Mile race, and it's nice to feel comfy being me. I loved running in Austin--but it's only after moving to SF I've moved up into ultras. The cool weather? Or Greg as a running buddy?
Goals for 2011:
Finish JFK in 11 hours (10 would be nice)
um…I guess that's it. I'll run some opportunistic races. I'm pondering 100 possibilities.
Plans for week:
4-5 miles Monday
Tues- run to beach (?)
Wed run with Endurables
Thurs 4-5 miles
Thursday, August 11, 2011
More thoughts on Headlands 100 DNF and personal worst performances
It's five days after Headlands 100 DNF, and I'm still a bit sad. I was sick for a few days after, and managed to get Greg sick too (sorry!) When I was sick and barely able to walk, it was easy to understand why I'd dropped. Now, as I get better, I ponder "could I have pushed harder?" But in my heart I knew I didn't hae it.
This goes on the list of my worst recent races:
St Louis Marathon: 90+ degree weather, 20+ mile winds, extremely heavy pollen. My angel, Aunt Carol, who surprised me at mile 17, bought me Claritin and paced me in. Without her, I don't know if I would have finished.
Ohlone 50K. Started DFL, barely made the first cutoff, and had Chuck Wilson pass me in a pouf. Lost a toenail from wearing La Sportiva Fireblades, and decided to go back to my trusty Air Pegasus.
My cold malaise is almost over, and I'm eyeing Headlands 50K. I haven't run all week, and I'm feeling antsy.
This goes on the list of my worst recent races:
St Louis Marathon: 90+ degree weather, 20+ mile winds, extremely heavy pollen. My angel, Aunt Carol, who surprised me at mile 17, bought me Claritin and paced me in. Without her, I don't know if I would have finished.
Ohlone 50K. Started DFL, barely made the first cutoff, and had Chuck Wilson pass me in a pouf. Lost a toenail from wearing La Sportiva Fireblades, and decided to go back to my trusty Air Pegasus.
My cold malaise is almost over, and I'm eyeing Headlands 50K. I haven't run all week, and I'm feeling antsy.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Headlands 100 DNF
I thought it would hurt a lot more to DNF, but I had a bad cold and just didn't have it in me. Planned right for my first 100, had the gear, the training, the drop bags, the pace chart--but I had a cold and was energyless.
Prerace was stunningly lowkey. CoachKen, Karen and I arrived around 6:30 for a 7 AM start. The check-in lady knew me, and I felt bad I didn't know her. "You finished Miwok, you'll do great!" I got my long sleeve race shirt and a baggie with three Clif samples. At the last minute they'd added drop bags at Vista Point, but I didn't know. Mike gathered the small crowd for the pre-race instructions. The most relevant was on Coastal by Golden Gate, the downhill runner ALWAYS had the right of way.
Right from the start I didn't feel great. I continued, as I often don't feel good and then start feeling better. Never felt better--started feeling extremely drowsy and had a hard time keeping my eyes open. Carol & Larry were at Tennessee Valley, along with Karen. Carol said "I saw you on the front of UltraRunning Magazine". "No, you saw my BACK on Ultrarunning". Through the mist, I saw a bobcat on Coyote Ridge! I walked up Marincello with a non-racer who told me all about UTMB last year. Talking to her distracted me from my right IT band hurting with every step. I told myself I would finish 25 miles (a loop) and then call Greg from my phone in my drop bag and talk about "dropping".
I felt really bummed to look at my time 5:30 at mile 19--at Headlands Marathon I had FINISHED at 5:45. Then I saw Coach Ken as he came up SCA--he said don't drop, just slow my pace down and see if I felt better. Plodded down Rodeo Valley, and then I saw Greg! He'd driven from SF to bring my pack. I'd accidentally packed my extremely grody bladder instead of my brand new bladder. I'd used my backup bottle instead. Greg gave me a much needed big hug. I was happy to see him!
We met up again at mile 25, and Greg helped me fill my new pack. I wanted soup but the aid station wasn't doing it that early in the race. Then we sat for about 6 minutes looking at the birds on Rodeo Lagoon. I decided I wasn't ready to give up yet. I just felt so energy-less and blah. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
Walked over the 8 miles to Golden Gate (mile 33), feeling lifeless but slightly better. A fog covered the trail, along with a chill wind. I cracked a joke to the runners in reverse "you forgot your sunglasses". The sun never broke the clouds on a surprisingly cool August day. I could see the aid station and the sun beyond it in the bay. No soup at the aid but extremely yummy cran-razz Clif shot. I'd never had it before, and it was delicious!
I talked myself into continuing to TV (mile 38) and dropping there with my drop bag with shoes and clean clothes. As I started up the road to the bridge (famous from Saucony ads) two hikers asked the way to the trailhead. I grunted "that way". I felt bad about being rude, and chatted a bit. They were staying at Cavallo Point, and stunned when I said we were running a 100 mile race.
I couldn't even run down Marincello. Usually I KILL it on the downhills. Now I barely mustered a walk. I saw another bobcat, this time a bobcub so small and cute, but not enough time to get a picture.
I plodded into TV, and it was bustling with a cheer squad with an AWESOME sign, and a big family all wearing "Run 50 miles Christopher!". The 50 was taped over with 100 on some of the shirts-recycling from a shorter race! I sat down in a chair and ate yummy chicken noodle soup. In the chair opposite me was a faster runner getting his feet taped up. People would poke their head in and look at his feet and wince. I never got a good look, and the runner never said anything, just stoically sat while he was duct taped.
It was 6:30, and I didn't think I could do another 13 hard miles to make the 10 pm cutoff at Rodeo Beach. Even fresh, this section takes me 3+ hours. I called Greg to say I was dropping, but it rolled to voice mail. Randy (another endurable) was volunteering at the aid station, and he came to check on me. "Just drinking my soup, thinking about dropping." "Just remember, when the night comes, it's a whole new day". I started up Miwok, but the hill just seemed impossible in my state. Greg called me right then. I wasn't ready to quit yet, was I? I turned around and went back to the bathroom. Then I texted him "continuing…not ready to quit".
I looked at my watch. I'd left TV at ~6:30 and the sun set at 8:15.. If I got to Muir Beach by 7:40, I could make it over technical Pirate Cove before it got too dark, then I could make it to Rodeo Beach by 10 PM, the 15 hour 50 mile cutoff. Then it would be MY decision to quit.
Suddenly, at the top of Coyote Ridge, I was in the hunt. I ran down to Muir Beach, scampering quickly. Earlier, it had really irked me that the course got re-routed around Muir Beach, adding ~1.2 miles. This time, I just knew I had to run faster. I didn't even refill my pack, just grabbed pretzels and showed my bib.
I ran Pirates Cove! There was no sunset in the foggy gloom, but I made it to TV right as it got too dark to see. It was 7:45. An awesome volunteer helped me with my pack, then I took off. Old Springs was quick, but then Wolf Ridge was foggy. Once I got to the top, I knew 10 PM was out of reach.
I've taken wrong turns on Hill 88 in broad daylight--it's littered with use trails that end suddenly on steep cliff dropoffs. I took it slow in the thick fog. The steps agonized my tight IT band, unused to walking dowhill. I knew my race was over. I'd thought about dropping for the past 30 miles, and it was finally time. Greg met me near the bottom and we walked in together.
Things I did well:
I was super well prepared in course knowledge. Every turn I knew. I barely looked at the ribbons at all.
I packed a backup light & hat at TV, and I needed them!
Tried to thank volunteers, not sure how well I did at grumpy times.
Kept going even when race not going well.
Sometimes, your mind might be ready for a race, but your body has a cold. I still feel sick two days later. I know I have a 100 in me--just not this one.
I'm trying to not feel like a failure. I failed at 100 miles, but I succeeded at 50 miles. 5 years ago, I WANTED to do 50 miles, but it seemed impossible. Now, I'm bummed I got a PW of 15+ hours. However, I would have been devastated if I'd DNF'd at Comrades--I had so much invested (travel, effort, emotion). Headlands 100 will be there next year (I hope). And I'm so proud Coach Ken finished his third try at HH!
Prerace was stunningly lowkey. CoachKen, Karen and I arrived around 6:30 for a 7 AM start. The check-in lady knew me, and I felt bad I didn't know her. "You finished Miwok, you'll do great!" I got my long sleeve race shirt and a baggie with three Clif samples. At the last minute they'd added drop bags at Vista Point, but I didn't know. Mike gathered the small crowd for the pre-race instructions. The most relevant was on Coastal by Golden Gate, the downhill runner ALWAYS had the right of way.
Right from the start I didn't feel great. I continued, as I often don't feel good and then start feeling better. Never felt better--started feeling extremely drowsy and had a hard time keeping my eyes open. Carol & Larry were at Tennessee Valley, along with Karen. Carol said "I saw you on the front of UltraRunning Magazine". "No, you saw my BACK on Ultrarunning". Through the mist, I saw a bobcat on Coyote Ridge! I walked up Marincello with a non-racer who told me all about UTMB last year. Talking to her distracted me from my right IT band hurting with every step. I told myself I would finish 25 miles (a loop) and then call Greg from my phone in my drop bag and talk about "dropping".
I felt really bummed to look at my time 5:30 at mile 19--at Headlands Marathon I had FINISHED at 5:45. Then I saw Coach Ken as he came up SCA--he said don't drop, just slow my pace down and see if I felt better. Plodded down Rodeo Valley, and then I saw Greg! He'd driven from SF to bring my pack. I'd accidentally packed my extremely grody bladder instead of my brand new bladder. I'd used my backup bottle instead. Greg gave me a much needed big hug. I was happy to see him!
We met up again at mile 25, and Greg helped me fill my new pack. I wanted soup but the aid station wasn't doing it that early in the race. Then we sat for about 6 minutes looking at the birds on Rodeo Lagoon. I decided I wasn't ready to give up yet. I just felt so energy-less and blah. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
Walked over the 8 miles to Golden Gate (mile 33), feeling lifeless but slightly better. A fog covered the trail, along with a chill wind. I cracked a joke to the runners in reverse "you forgot your sunglasses". The sun never broke the clouds on a surprisingly cool August day. I could see the aid station and the sun beyond it in the bay. No soup at the aid but extremely yummy cran-razz Clif shot. I'd never had it before, and it was delicious!
I talked myself into continuing to TV (mile 38) and dropping there with my drop bag with shoes and clean clothes. As I started up the road to the bridge (famous from Saucony ads) two hikers asked the way to the trailhead. I grunted "that way". I felt bad about being rude, and chatted a bit. They were staying at Cavallo Point, and stunned when I said we were running a 100 mile race.
I couldn't even run down Marincello. Usually I KILL it on the downhills. Now I barely mustered a walk. I saw another bobcat, this time a bobcub so small and cute, but not enough time to get a picture.
I plodded into TV, and it was bustling with a cheer squad with an AWESOME sign, and a big family all wearing "Run 50 miles Christopher!". The 50 was taped over with 100 on some of the shirts-recycling from a shorter race! I sat down in a chair and ate yummy chicken noodle soup. In the chair opposite me was a faster runner getting his feet taped up. People would poke their head in and look at his feet and wince. I never got a good look, and the runner never said anything, just stoically sat while he was duct taped.
It was 6:30, and I didn't think I could do another 13 hard miles to make the 10 pm cutoff at Rodeo Beach. Even fresh, this section takes me 3+ hours. I called Greg to say I was dropping, but it rolled to voice mail. Randy (another endurable) was volunteering at the aid station, and he came to check on me. "Just drinking my soup, thinking about dropping." "Just remember, when the night comes, it's a whole new day". I started up Miwok, but the hill just seemed impossible in my state. Greg called me right then. I wasn't ready to quit yet, was I? I turned around and went back to the bathroom. Then I texted him "continuing…not ready to quit".
I looked at my watch. I'd left TV at ~6:30 and the sun set at 8:15.. If I got to Muir Beach by 7:40, I could make it over technical Pirate Cove before it got too dark, then I could make it to Rodeo Beach by 10 PM, the 15 hour 50 mile cutoff. Then it would be MY decision to quit.
Suddenly, at the top of Coyote Ridge, I was in the hunt. I ran down to Muir Beach, scampering quickly. Earlier, it had really irked me that the course got re-routed around Muir Beach, adding ~1.2 miles. This time, I just knew I had to run faster. I didn't even refill my pack, just grabbed pretzels and showed my bib.
I ran Pirates Cove! There was no sunset in the foggy gloom, but I made it to TV right as it got too dark to see. It was 7:45. An awesome volunteer helped me with my pack, then I took off. Old Springs was quick, but then Wolf Ridge was foggy. Once I got to the top, I knew 10 PM was out of reach.
I've taken wrong turns on Hill 88 in broad daylight--it's littered with use trails that end suddenly on steep cliff dropoffs. I took it slow in the thick fog. The steps agonized my tight IT band, unused to walking dowhill. I knew my race was over. I'd thought about dropping for the past 30 miles, and it was finally time. Greg met me near the bottom and we walked in together.
Things I did well:
I was super well prepared in course knowledge. Every turn I knew. I barely looked at the ribbons at all.
I packed a backup light & hat at TV, and I needed them!
Tried to thank volunteers, not sure how well I did at grumpy times.
Kept going even when race not going well.
Sometimes, your mind might be ready for a race, but your body has a cold. I still feel sick two days later. I know I have a 100 in me--just not this one.
I'm trying to not feel like a failure. I failed at 100 miles, but I succeeded at 50 miles. 5 years ago, I WANTED to do 50 miles, but it seemed impossible. Now, I'm bummed I got a PW of 15+ hours. However, I would have been devastated if I'd DNF'd at Comrades--I had so much invested (travel, effort, emotion). Headlands 100 will be there next year (I hope). And I'm so proud Coach Ken finished his third try at HH!
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