DNF Cascades Crest 100

DNF at mile 34.5

I was sick with a cold, had an iffy knee, but I wanted to run anyway. I'm glad I started, it was a beautiful course with awesome volunteers.

The start was relatively flat along a road, then turned off onto a trail.  A guy fell through plank bridge around mile 2, but he hauled himself out and kept running.  Passing runners told me me to "take it easy to mile 68" and I perhaps too it too literally on the long climb up Goat Peak. The 6,000+ feet of altitude and my cold left me feeling woozy.  

A women came up the trail behind me, and I was happy for her company, asking "How are you doing?"  "I'm doing fine, but I'm the sweep.  How are YOU doing?".  I was stalked by sweep worrying I would get pulled at 10 mile aid station.  I was too afraid to ask if she was pulling me.  I went through an aid station and they didn't tell me to stop so I cruised down the long Forest Service Road rocking out to Paul Oakenfold with Mt Ranier so beautiful in the distance.  Even with the humiliation of getting pulled at mile 10! looming in my mind, I was still happy to be running.  

I passed a white hat runner, and was finally free of sweep around mile 17.  Then onto the PCT, and descending like a breeze through old growth forest (passing two more runners) to Tacoma Pass aid station.

My sister was waiting for me, wanting me to pose for photos, and I was feeling pressed for time and so not in a photogenic mood.  

Over the next 10 miles one of the runners caught up to me.  We both said our lungs hurt.  Gary fell into pace with me, but never passed.  I kept asking  "Do you want to pass?"  "No".  "Do you want to pass?"  "No".   I realized not only was it my sister's first 100, it was her first ultra race AND her first trail race.  What a rude introduction to be crewing grumpy, sick, time pressured me!  "I should have asked my sister to a 50K where I'd be in a better mood and willing to pose for photos". 

We passed a worn out young guy on the way to cheery kids at Snowshoe Butte aid station. My lungs ached with every breath, but when I asked Gary if I looked as bad as the worn out guy he said "NO!".  I wanted to make Stampede before dark, and started pushing as hard as I could on the downhills. Gary said "when you reach back and  press play on your iPod (in my waistband) it's go time for me to keep up with you".  

At Stampede Pass, I collapsed into a chair.  I was wheezing and it was hard to catch my breath.  My legs said go, my lungs said no.  A cute EMT said "Do you want some oxygen?  It'll pep you up!". I thought he was making a joke, but he wasn't.  I asked if taking oxygen would disqualify me, and when Rob (EMT) said no, I popped the oxygen mask on. As I got the oxygen, I started feeling more and more like myself.  Through the mask I could see Gary changing into his night gear with lights and leaving into the dark. I was still 30 minutes ahead of the cutoffs, and debating whether to continue.  Rob dialed the oxygen mask and I started coughing.  I could talk myself into going for another 5, 10 or even 14 miles, but I didn't have another 64 in me.  Charlie (aid station manager) tried to cheer me up.  I dropped.

The next day I dedicated the morning to sulking and wondering if I could have kept pushing and continued with my impromptu pacer, Gary.  Then Margo & I went to the finish line to cheer in runners and pick up my drop bags.  Gary was there, he'd dropped too!  I asked Gary "What would you have done differently"?  "Nothing, I did my best.  I've finished two hundreds (Kettle & Wasatch), and this was harder".  My sister said I'd given it all I had, but I didn't.  I had more to give, I just didn't have 100 miles.  Even at the finish line I was coughing.  

What I would do different

Not run sick (hard to solve)

Ask my crew/ (sister:) ) to be tougher on me and not let me drop unless I really had given it all I had.  

Get stronger on the uphills- need to finish a hilly 50 mile in under 12 hours

 I thought my sister would never want to crew me ever again after my laser focus on drop bags, driving on dusty forest roads, smelling stinky runners (me in particular) and suffering through my bad mood after DNF.  Surprisingly, she said "if you run a race again, am I allowed (!) to crew you?"  Of course!

Squamish 50 DNF

DNF, mile 42.  

There, I got it out of the way.  I got pulled at mile 42, as I was ~12:20 into the race, with 8 miles to go to a 14 hour time limit.  I like reading other peoples DNF race reports for lessons learned, so here's what I attribute mine to… not making a pace chart/ understanding the course, bad knee, hot weather, and (very minor) aid stations time longer than expected, not knowing aid station nutrition.

Regrets:  Not enjoying the beauty of the course more, not saying "thanks" to more volunteers.  

Start:  We gathered at 6:15 AM at Squamish Oceanfront for the inaugural Squamish 50, a "reboot" of the Stormy 50 Mile.  Same general area, but a different course.  Gary Robbins paid tribute to the old race as it's founder stripped off multiple shirts dating back to 2001.  Gary said "follow the pink ribbons.  The other ribbons are not the course.  And a white ribbon is LAVA.  Don't cross.  And we've extended the cutoff at Quest University (mile 26) from 1 pm to 2:15 pm, with a hard stop of exiting at 2:30".

10K:  And then we were off, weaving through the flatlands for 10K.  The course was well marked and very flat.  I had a brand new Paul Oakenfold Essential Mix to amuse me. I rambled along at around 11 minutes  a mile, thinking how easy and non-technical this was (ominous foreboding sounds cued).  The course had ~10K feet of elevation, and the first 12% had maybe 500 feet.  Which meant all the elevation was still to come.  While I stopped to adjust my pack (a scoobie pack had fallen out) a female runner with bells on her pack passed me.  Bells?  that would annoy the crap out of me to run with bells for 50 miles! (cue more foreboding)

16.5K:  I turned off the road into trail.  It quickly became rolling and rooty.  As I walked one small uphill, I saw a break in the woods to the river.  In it the break was a hairy hindquarter of an animal that was about bear sized. Oh #$@.  It wasn't just bear sized, it was a bear.  That's why the girl had bells on her pack.  To scare off bells.  I kept running.  (You're reading this, so there was no further bear incidents).  I had much more respect for her wearing bells.  The course split, with one arrow pointing left and one straight.  I turned left and climbed, climbed, climbed to a radio tower where a friendly couple offered me water and said "2 miles all downhill".

20K:  It was not in fact all downhill. I cued my downhill music, but instead it was more technical ups and downs, followed by some relatively flat.  I worried I was off-course, and worried more when suddenly faster runners were whizzing past me.  Had I CUT THE COURSE??  When I arrived to the aid station I learned I was on course.  I was about to do a 5K loop that would run back over the last part I'd just run.  I tried to fill my pack as quickly as possible, but the big cooler seemed to run so slow.  I wished for a liter pitcher which would fill my pack in a flash. 

to 25K:  a fun loop up through the trees.  At one point, my trail paralleled another trail, and I saw another racer, roughly parallel to me.  Was I off course?  No, there was a white ribbon between us.  he was ahead of me by ?? many miles.  So then I stayed  back down to the same aid station.  I was concerned to see the aid station had been partly dismantled, it's awning down and less volunteers.  Uhoh.  I was back of the pack.  

to 30K: I set out strongly for the next station.  Around one lake, then another called "Edith Lake".  I popped out at the next aid station, just as a mess of 4 relay runners finished behind me.  "You're in the wrong place" the aid station volunteers said to the runners behind me.  I asked the aid station volunteers to verify my course direction.  "You've been running at a good pace, you should make sure you go the right way", said a guy sitting at the station.   A sign said "5 miles to next aid station"

to 42K: It was not, in fact, 5 miles to the next aid station.  A fact I only verified after the race.  The runner from the last station caught up with me.  He was running the relay, and his wife had gotten lost for 2+ hours!  Peter said "You have a calm and steady pace..you'll finish!"  The two animals on the course were cougars and bears, and I said I'd rather be a cougar.  "A cougar…really?"  Which reminded me of a friend of a friend who was on dateacougar.com (yes it's a real site) and said she was 36 instead of 46.  It's dateacougar!  it's okay to be older!

In this section I went by the white ribbon I'd seen on the way to 25K.  If I'd stepped over the one, I would have shaved ~10+K!

This section seemed to last forever, as I kept expecting the aid station to be around the corner.  My knee hurt, and I debated dropping at Quest University.  If I dropped, I could have the whole afternoon to…to what?  There was nothing I'd rather do than be on the trail!  I decided that bad knee and all, I'd rather be out on single track than sitting around watching Olympics.  A long section of technical single track, where I passed another runner.  Finally I popped out at what I thought MUST be the aid station.  Nope, it was a road.  A volunteer said "2 more miles to the aid".  2 more mile???  I'd been out for 2 hours since the last aid station!  Finally I arrived to Quest University at 1:23 pm.  I had to make up time on the 10 mile loop--easy peasy, right? I grabbed new Scoobies and set off.  

to 45K: A climb up on a paved road, than a gravel road.  A quick relay runner easily passed me.  I turned off into a trail.  The faster runners were doing this section as part of a second loop.  I turned a corner, and saw a runner bent over, reapplying Body Glide.  Two guys (and a gorilla) were at the aid station.  They refilled my pack with what I'd thought was Gu2.  Nope!  It was Heed.  My stomach felt sour.  

to 58K:  I climbed and climbed up a forest road, then up single track. I saw the white ribbon dividing, and I knew I would come back down this hill.   Finally at the top, ready for a nice downhill.  More and more technical trails, all helpfully flagged with their mountain biking difficulty "Most Difficult".  Never a smooth stretch where I could let loose.  My knee kept me from going as fast as I wanted to go on the rooty single track. 

to 60K: Back at Quest, it was 5:20.  It wasn't looking good for me finishing.  Ken (an Alaskan campmate) and everyone else was being picked up at a van to drive back to the camp.  The sun was still bright.  I wasn't ready to give up.  I would go down fighting.  Back down the road again, back to the Gorilla Aid Station, trying to make up as much time as I could.  The hill I'd walked before I ran now.  

63K:  I ran the loop as fast as I could, but when I got to the aid, it was 5:40.  I had 17k to go and 90 minutes.  I didn't mind finishing after the cutoff.  I wanted to do my 50 miles!  But though it was still sunny, it would get dark sooner in the trees.  The Gorilla Guys had been told to pull me, unless "I knew the course well".  I didn't know the course well.  I didn't want people worrying about me out in the dark.  So I DNF'd.

The Gorilla Guys gave me a ride back--it turned out that Mike & Ran (their actual names) had been on Ellie Greenwood's crew with Coach Ken.  And knew Pano from Alaska Running Camp.  Small world!  

Things to improve on:

1) Poor planning leads to poor execution.  I didn't do a pace chart or write down aid stations.  I didn't have a clear idea of where they were, or how I was doing.  I had undue stress. 

2) Lay out my race outfit AT HOME.  The night before I realized I hadn't brought a sports bra!  Luckily there was a Walmart by my hotel.

3) I wish I'd spent more time to enjoy the scenery and the day.

4) Being nicer to volunteers, even when frustrated with looping course.

5) Don't drink Heed during races.

Things I did well:

1) New Oakie tracks on iPod

2) Kept going as far as I could

3) Plenty of S-Caps

Countdown to Squamish 50

I'm running Squamish 50 in 4 days!

My first Canadian race!

Of note from the Racer Updates

1. "We will have two points during our race where a train can potentially cut you off. You're welcome to play chicken with them but our insurance won't cover you if you lose." 
2. "Two animals to be aware of in Squamish are black bears and cougars. "
3. "Here's the funny thing though, our course was actually 52 miles long. More Miles = More Fun RIGHT! SO, now you're only running 51miles. "

It's been cool and foggy here in San Francisco.  Sunday morning when I ran in Muir Woods, it was 59.  Great training for cool British Columbia, right?  WRONG.  The high in Squamish is 82!  

The race course looks beautiful and I hope my knee is up to the challenge.  Cascades Crest is right behind.

Marin Ultra Challenge 50 Mile

June 30, 2012

50(??  Jim miles), 

12 hours, 52 minutes

Marin Ultra Challenge 50 was just like starting a training run, except for more people, and a number to pin on.  I got to Rodeo Beach at 5:30 and got my number, dropped my drop bag, and realized I couldn't find my socks.  Oops!  I grabbed the pair out of my drop bag.  Jim Vernon gave a course overview.  As we lined up in the gray mist I recognized Donald whose blog I read.  The camera must add 20 pounds, as in person he's very lean.  

Rodeo Beach > Coastal > SCA> Rodeo Valley Lollipop 1:48 (8.2 miles)

The gray mist stayed with us as we left the beach.  I was right with the pack on Bunker Road and up Coastal Trail.  Then I started walking the hill, and quickly everyone faded into the distance.  I heard a patter of feet.  Eldrith!  I told her Congrats! on her Ultra Running Performance of the year at Headlands 100 last year.  I'd seen her at races but this was the first time I said anything.  What a sweet lady, and what an inspiration.  She wanted to run up the hill, and there I was, dropped by a 70 year old.  I didn't feel like pushing the pace.  At SCA Jim was there, but no time to talk to him.  In the descent back to Rodeo Beach I thought I would pass a few people on the descent, but noone was even in sight.  

Rodeo Beach > Wolf Ridge >Old Springs to Tennesee Valley 1:01 (4.1 miles)

I'd left my car right by the aid station for a strategic personal aid station.  I changed from my long sleeve to short sleeve and applied body glide.  Did this section as I'd done so many times on training runs--the hike up Hill 88, rollers on Wolf Ridge, then the long smooth descent into TV.  Again, noone in sight.  

Miwok > Dias > Muir Beach 1:29 (6)

The fog was still fairly thick, but I could see the turn clearly labeled to go on Miwok (the long way) instead of Miwok cutoff (the shorter way).  The map had said Miwok cutoff. Jim had said Miwok cutoff.  But the ribbons said Miwok (the long way).  I thought about going on cutoff.  But I begrudgingly went the long way.  I had hoped to break 12 hours, and I thought the quarter mile extra would throw me off.  On Miwok I started to feel good and pressed the pace.  I passed a guy! and cruised into Muir Beach.  The aid station was a little back from the road, adding an extra .1 mile in out and back.  Karen was there!  

Redwood Creek> Heather Cutoff> Coastal Trail to Cardiac Aid Station 1:25 (4.5)

The sun had started to break free, and it was starting to get hot.  I ran Redwood, hiked Heather, and ran Coastal where it started to flatten out as it climbed 1,300 feet.  Still, I was  off my 12 hour splits. 

Dipsea > Stinson Beach 51:39 (3.7)

After the endless set of steps on Dipsea, I started to open up on the descent to Stinson Beach.  I passed another guy!  I thought the aid station would be right at Stinson Beach, but it was at the Willow Pass Trail intersection, as far up as it could be.  I was beginning to fear I'd missed it.  Thierry (another Endurable) saw me walking up the road and had my drop bag out neatly waiting for me.  I grabbed new scoobies and applied more Body Glide.  They said there was a "mini-pack" about 5 minutes ahead of me.  When I looked up, I could see them on the slopes above. 

Willow Pass Trail> Coastal > Matt Davis > Cardiac aid station 1:42 (5.5)

Willow Pass is a steep uphill climb of ~1,800 feet in under 2 miles.  Nothing to do but do it.  The day had gotten hot, so I was grateful for the shade higher up when we got into the trees.  Out of nowhere, Jim Vernon appeared to take my picture!  He walked with me a little.  Talking to him & Eldrith were the two highlights of non-aid station sociability.  Looking at my splits, this is where 12 hours slipped definitively out of reach.  I'd budgeted 1:28 for this section, and I took 14 minutes more.  I did start running once I hit Coastal (at a good pace) and passed Eldrith and ~3 other runners.   I felt good!  I felt I was in the mix!  There was ~20 miles left and I felt ready for it.  

Cardiac> Ben Johnson> Fern Creek> Lost> Going to the Sun > Dipsea> Deer Park 2:15 (8.8) 

Where time and space lose all meaning, on the longest section between aid stations.  I filled to the brim at Cardiac.  I didn't bomb down Ben Johnson, but I kept a steady downhill pace.  Muir Woods was jam packed with tourists.  Sometimes this was great, when they cheered for me!!!  Sometimes not so great, when I said "Excuse me" on Lost Trail and a hiker very slowly kept walking in front of me, blocking the trail.

When I turned to go up Fern Creek I saw a fellow runner climbing over a tree! to get to closed Alice Eastwood trail (off course!) I yelled at him to get back on course.  He was very grateful.  As we were climbing Lost, another runner wearing five finger shoes caught up with us--he'd taken the same wrong turn before he finally figured out the "closed trail" signs meant CLOSED.  The wrong-way runner was coated in clothing--a Death Valley style hat with a veil and arm covers.  I let him pass me, but then I kept him in sight and passed on Dipsea into Old Inn. I was planning to get water at Old Inn, but two runners were filling their hydration packs there.  I didn't want to wait.  

As I climbed Dipsea to Deer Park, an anxious woman asked "Did you see a runner with a blue shirt and a pack"  Me "That's like every runner!"  The crazy hat dude caught up with me there--she was looking for him.  With all his distinctive clothing, she asked for a guy with a blue shirt?  She narrated the course to him "After a steep climb up Dipsea, there's a scorching descent on Deer Park".  him "I don't feel up to a scorching descent".  But I did!  I said BYE and jetted down Deer Park.

Redwood Creek Trail was as overgrown as I'd remembered.  I was nervous about water, even though I had plenty.  Constant forward motion…except for when I got caught behind two horse back riders.  I was stuck behind them until they turned to go across the stream (horses can't use the rickety wood bridges).  I would look back and see them gaining on me again, and I picked up my speed.  Finally I was at Muir Beach. 

Coastal Trail over Pirates Cove > Tennessee Valley 1:14 (4.3)

I arrived at Muir Beach at ~4:45, and I knew a 12 hour finish was out of reach with 8.5 tough miles to go. The volunteers said the closest runner was "5-10 minutes ahead of me".  Knowing I wouldn't break 12 hours, I decided to not kill myself.  The 50 wasn't my goal--Cascades 100 in August is my goal.  I need to be in shape to keep training, not take 3 weeks off after wrecking myself.   The wheels didn't come off, but I wasn't flying through this section.  In fact, climbing Pirates Cove, a hiker passed me convincingly.  Once I got to the top I thought "just like in training".  I was proud I ran all the way into TV.  The aid station workers were ringing cowbells, and I said "More cowbell!  More cowbell!"  

TV> Old Springs> Wolf Ridge> Coastal 1:03 (4.2)

As I started up Old Springs, I could hear the cowbells ringing for a runner behind me.  This put a spring in my step.  I even ran part of the up in Old Springs.  It was a repeat of the finish of Headlands 100 where I'd dropped after 50, right down to the thick pea soup fog.  I was glad it was still daylight, so I could make out the trail.  About 1/2 mile from the finish, Pon (from the Endurables) passed me like a rocket.  I tried to hang but I couldn't.  And then there was the finish line, with Karen & Ken!  I sprinted for the line in 12:52.  And I got a finishers pint glass!  I cheered Eldrith on as she finished--she's incredible!  And I discovered from the finishers list there was a woman 3 minutes ahead of me, who I hadn't seen in the thick fog.  If I'd seen someone so close on the descent, I would have tried to pass her.  

Things I did well

• Packed my bag the night before
• Previewed the course on my own so I knew every turn
• Said thank you to the aid station volunteers
• Body Glide
• S-Caps every half hour, never cramped
• Constant nutrition supply
• Introduced myself to Eldrith!

Things to improve on

• I didn't break 12 hours, but this was a training race for Cascades.  Could I have?  I could have gotten below 12:30 if I'd pushed more.  12 hours? unsure.  
• Ran out of Scoobies into Stinson Beach-carry a backup pack.
• Didn't have the right music on my iPad, used my iPhone for last section.

Thoughts on Marin 50

The volunteers were so nice and supportive.  

Course was overall well marked, but I never really looked for markings.

The race shirt was a disappointment, just the ITR logo and the name of the race.  I'd like a pretty design, please!  However, the pint glass is very cool and looks great on my race coasters.

Inside Trail Marin 50 Course Preview

Jim Vernon did an awesome course preview of the Marin 50 trail run on June 30

I have run every inch of the trail :) in the last few months. My thoughts:

1) Is the course short? According to the Elevation chart it's 48.9 miles.  However, the section from Pan Toll up and around the tourist club and back to Muir Beach seems longer than 10 miles.  Also, the Dipsea Trail section that's been washed out for years (above Old Inn) has reopened.  Doing that section on Dipsea trail vs on road adds distance.  I think the course is at least 50 miles, if not a little over.  

2) Heather Cutoff is overgrown with Poison Oak (as usual). Redwood Creek was in the worse shape I'd ever seen it with overgrowth, and also full of Poison Oak.  

3) The Aid Stations are at least 7 miles apart, and they are all healthy "Jim" 7 miles with big climbs.  I'm planning on carrying my 2-L pack.

Random bathrooms and water fountains besides the Aid Stations

Conzelman road, outhouse

Port-a-Potty and hose with running water, right before Heather Cutoff

Hose at Zen Center (about 1/5 mile in from gate) at Muir Beach

Pan Toll (water, flush toilets)

Stinson Beach (deli)

Muir Woods before Fern Creek (water fountain)

Muir Woods after Dipsea (water fountain)

Port-a-Potty on fire road into TV

Why I think I'll do well?

I know the course extremely thoroughly, and have run all of it in the last month.

Training has gone well. I'm running hills (Coastal up to SCA) that I used to always walk.

Why am I nervous?

14K in climbing...gulp.

Weather in June could be quite warm in Marin (90s).  

No posted cutoffs--when are the aid stations closing

Day 5: Of mud & zip

I wanted to squeeze one more run in, so in the morning I tried to run Petersen Creek Trail.  I ran on Glacier Highway about 3/4 mile to the trailhead.  The trail started up on gravel, then transitioned to planks covered with roofing shingles.  Then just to slick planks.  Then to mud up over my shins.  Then to mud up on my calves.  I realized the mud was just going to get thicker, and transition to snow.  I turned around.

I helped close up the cabin, then the remaining campers (Will, Cameron, Jim) and our counselors (:-) and John went to the airport for Will to get a car, then to return a van.  We had a final lunch.  Cameron is an eager kid, prone to asking questions like "what's it like to have a pacer?"  "What's the best 50 mile race?"  "What race has terrain like this"? 

I rushed downtown to do the Juneau zipline tour.  After being the only girl camper with 7 trail runners, on the zip tour I was…the only girl with 5 guys on a bachelor party weekend!!  Why Juneau?  The bachelor was scared of flying, so they'd taken the ferry from Skagway.  Sigh. 

A delicious crab supper at Tracy's Crab Shack on the water, and now enjoying the sunset, the first I've seen in Juneau.  I wish the weather had been like this for our fish bake yesterday.  I've also checked out my bruises.  No wonder my butt hurts, there's a huge purple area from where I fell on day 3. 

Day 4: Anti-Climbatic

The "A-Team" of the fastest, un-injured guys did a ~14 mile loop up Mount Roberts, put on snow-shoes to cover the high ridges, and then down Perservance.  At the start, Corle spotted a mountain goat, high up the slopes of snow-speckledd Mt Juneau. 

Me?

I hiked up Mt Roberts (~2.5 miles) to the tram station from town, where snow had overwhelmed the mud.  Corle had waited for me, and we set up an insane slope straight up snow to a cross.  The slope was very steep, so I traversed over to what I thought was the trail, behind a rope.  When I got close to the trail, I realized it was actually an avalance warning sign for the area I was IN.  I punched my hands in and spider monkey'ed up the slope, with Corle encouraging me.  Once I looked down.  Big mistake.  Big.  When I got to where Corle was, I realized there was a much easier path we could have taken through the snow on the left.  Oops. 

Corle & I had a nice sandwich lunch over Juneau, looking at the bald eagles soaring.  I realized that though I'll tolerate snow hiking, I don't enjoy it.  So we descended back down, then Corle left to buy fish for supper.

I  still felt good (though not fond of snow) so did a ~5 mile out and back on Perservance trail.  Geoff had said to be back at the van by 4 pm, so I booked back, arriving right at 4:01 pm.  Everyone was already there, and Geoff said "See?  I told you she speeds at the end!"

We had a SouthEastern Alaska fish bake.  Corle cut up a 11 pound salmon into steaks, and we BBQ'ed  at the beach in a steady drizzle.  The owners of Rainbow foods and their daughter joined us.  The food was outstanding, and I got to set the fire.