With my lovely winter travel schedule I wasn't able to do as many short trail races in December, January and February like I like to do and race myself into shape. I ended 2011 with a good race - November's Saddleback Marathon where I improved my time by 20 minutes and finished on the overall podium. So I was in good shape then, but I was pretty nervous if I were carrying over that fitness through the winter. So even though I couldn't run a lot of weekends due to the J-O-B, I seemed to log a lot more miles during the week than I had in years past. Hopefully that was going to be enough.
The end of March meant the Old Goat 50 Miler. My first year I ran this race I didn't really know what I was getting into and ran something like a 9:50. Last year I had a blast running the race and felt incredible the whole time, improving my time by 45 minutes to finish in 9:05. Because I felt so awesome running it last year, I was nervous that I'd be able to top last year's performance. Also, the field was stacked this year so I was going to have to run my skinny ass off just to finish inside the top 10.
Race day came and I felt pretty good. I really like how the race is so well run. It makes you feel like this must be a big deal because it looks so professionally done. The Old Goat who manages it has his ducks in a row. It's too bad he's not allowed by the national forestry service to get a larger permit for the race that would allow more than 150 entrants.
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| Photo by: Deborah Acosta |
Anyway, 3, 2 1 and we go. The top four runners blasted off the start line like they're running Boston. My thought was to run the race with Tom Nielsen and try to soak up some of his ultra running wisdom, but the 52 year old took off like a shot, too, and spoiled my plans.
The First 21 Miles
Once on the trail I loped along and settled in to an enjoyable pace. I followed Harold Zundel from a bit of a distance running out to the Candy Store. I'd only first met Harold two weeks prior at Baz's 30k race where he ran me down and blasted past me. The gap between us yo-yoed a bit, that's always interesting in a race - how people will run the same trail differently. The view from the ridge was spectacular and we both commented on it.
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| Photo by: Victor Tello |
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| Photo by: Susy Gutierrez |
Coming into an aid station is always the funnest thing because there's people around and cheering and food. The Candy Store aid station was a little full when I got to it with people who started at 5:30am (instead of 6:30am). I handed my water bottle to a volunteer and asked for it to be refilled with water. I like fast aid station stops and consider it a good strategy, so when the volunteer had to wait for one of the 5:30 starters to finish filling her hydration pack with water before she could fill my water bottle, I started to have a little panic attack. This probably held me up all of 10 seconds at the most, but waiting for 2 seconds seems like an eternity to me.
Once I got my bottle filled I was off and running down the trail. Coming around the loop that takes you back to the (dry) stream crossing I passed two runners who were coming at me. I kind of went *huh*, then yelled back to them that they're going the wrong way; they were going counter-clockwise around the loop instead of clockwise. Sucks for them.
After the stream crossing you're back on the trail you came out on so I started coming across other racers. That's sorta fun because I can see some friends from the Trail Headz like Theresa Avocado (Apodaca), Matt Brabeck & Marisa Willment. I could also hear people talking to the racer in front of me when he'd pass, meaning I wasn't too far behind Tommy, now.
Sure enough, I eventually started to see peaks of the blue Bad Rats shirt down the trail in front of me. Not too much longer and I ran up right behind Tommy and he seemed to be running a little funny, like he was injured. Apparently he wasn't injured, that's just how he runs. As soon as the trail started to climb, again, Tommy stepped over to let me by. I put a bit of a gap on him, but never too big of one. I was running comfortably and wanted to keep my rhythm. I don't know if slowing down a tiny bit to keep just in front of Tommy would have helped me later in the race, or not. I kind of don't think it would have.
A little while later and I ran down another runner whom I originally assumed was a 5:30 starter. When I got up behind him I noticed his shoes (NB 110) and he didn't step aside to let me pass. After running behind him for a few minutes, I noticed that he was running really well, especially over the rocks in those tiny shoes, so I concluded that Michael Chamoun was a 6:30 starter as well.
After the Chiquita Falls aid station, I took the lead in front of Michael and lead him back to Blue Jay campground. Running through the campground I stopped at my car to grab a second water bottle and more gels. At the aid station I handed over my empty water bottle to a volunteer to fill, but when she went to fill it, the water jug appeared to be empty! She dashed around behind the table to find a full water bottle while I stood there having another panic attack because Michael was coming down the road to the aid station and I knew Tommy would appear shortly, too. An agonizing eight seconds later and I was off down Falcon Trail.
Miles 22 through 34ish
Last year when I got to Main Divide Truck Trail I was shocked by how well I felt climbing it. This year my shock at Main Divide was seeing a small caravan of minivans trying to climb up the mountain. When I approached the first car a little woman ran out and through a thick accent asked if I could give them directions (it was pretty obvious they were lost). I felt like a dick not stopping to talk to her, but I was in a race and just sort of grunted at her. When I got to the lead car another guy popped out and asked if I could take a minute to give them directions. This time I told him I'm running a race meaning no, I couldn't take a minute. He quickly asked me which way was the camp ground. When I pointed back behind me down the hill, I heard all the little kids in the van grown. I'm not sure how they got themselves turned around and back down the mountain, but they weren't there when I was running back down to Blue Jay three hours later.
As I continued to climb up Main Divide, I could tell that Michael was gaining on me and I wasn't going to be able to hold him off. With a polite, hello, he marched past me and up the hill. Looking back over my shoulder some more, I could see Tommy in the distance, too. Shit.
I'm not a big fan of running down Trabuco Trail, but it was nice to run downhill since, apparently, my uphill climbing was going to suck today. I didn't blast down the trail too hard because I didn't want my legs to be shot at the bottom, but when I got to the stream crossing at the base of the decent I caught a glimpse of Michael. I was very surprised to see that I caught back up to him.
A little further down the trail I looked over my shoulder just in time to see Tommy come flying at me. I jumped out of the way so he wouldn't plow me over and watched as the grizzled veteran dropped out of sight. About a 1/4 mile later I trotted past Michael joking that I'd see him again going up Holy Jim where he'd re-pass me.
I enjoyed the rest of the flat run to the Holy Jim aid station. When I rolled into that aid station Tommy was still there and Baz was chatting it up with him. I handed a water bottle to a volunteer, but they were blocked by Baz who's back was to us as he continued to BS to everyone. Finally a volunteer said "Baz, we have runners" and I threw in "Baz, pay attention!"
When the old fart turned around to see who it was, his reaction went something like: "who's . . . oh &%#@ you, you mother @#%&ing #&@* $*#&er, etc., etc."
Ah, Baz.
I got my bottle filled and headed up Holy Jim. Being late morning by this point and a beautiful day, there were a lot of hikers on the trail and it got a little congested at the water crossings a couple of times. At one crossing I didn't want to wait for the hikers to stumble across the rocks so I trounced through the water. I may have splashed more than they would have appreciated.
I took the Holy Jim climb as best I could - hiking quite a bit of it, but forcing myself to run for as long as I could when it wasn't too steep and try to haul ass anytime it flattened out. I was having a dull pain coming from my sciatica on my left side and my lower back on my right side when going uphill. I can't really say this slowed me down, but it definitely wasn't comfortable.
When I finally made it to the top I was surprised to find no aid station. Crap. Due to the water at Bear Springs right there, the area can be pretty heavy with flies. I remember this being the case with the 2010 Chimera 100 and they moved the aid station further up the hill to a nice look-out. Thankfully that turned out to be the case this time, too.
Miles 34ish through 47
Larry Goodard and Co. greeted me at the aid station and refilled my bottles with Heed. They offered to put ice in my bottles and that was SO nice - ice-cold refreshment.
Because I felt I climbed Holy Jim so slow, I kept waiting for Michael to catch me, but he never did. However, just as I was leaving the aid station, he came trotting in. I hiked away, but knew I wasn't going to stay ahead of him for long.
In a few minutes he caught up to me and I commented how I was surprised we hadn't seen the leaders coming down from the peak, yet. I'm used to being so far behind them that I never see Jorge Pacheco running down from the peak because he'd already gone by where Holy Jim meets Main Divide. A few more minutes went by and we finally spotted the leader coming down the mountain and not surprisingly it was Chris Price. The guy took up running just a few years ago, apparently never realizing what he is capable of. He gave Michael and I high fives as he blasted down the mountain, all smiles on his way to victory and a new course record.
I continued the slog up the mountain counting the runners as they came back past to figure out what place I was in overall. Next I saw Dominic Grossman, then Fabrice Hardel and Eric Wickland coming down the mountain together, then finally Jorge Pacheco. As I rounded the last switchback leading to the peak I saw Tommy come scrambling down the hill and right before I got to the aid station Michael came past me on his decent.
At the aid station I got my refills, crammed a handful of goldfish in my mouth and started my own decent from the peak. Each time I've run this race, around mile 37 or 38 I start to get all emotional and choked up. It's probably because at this point you're well on your way back down from the peak and you've conquered the toughest part of this course and definitely one of the tougher climbs in all of ultra racing in the U.S, giving you this invincible feeling. Plus when you're exhausted, your body does funny things.
From this point to the finish the course again allows you to run most of the way. There's one good climb on Main Divide after you descend from the peak, but it's not bad considering what you climbed already. A lot of people don't care for this part of the course because it's a dirt truck trail, but because it's rolling hills instead of steep ups and downs, I like it. I like to get into a good rhythm with my stride and just run.
While my legs were tired, they weren't trashed, but I was hindered by blisters that had formed on both of my feet. I do a good job of taping up hot-spots on my feet to prevent blisters and NEVER get them during a race. Not sure why I did this time. Maybe my socks I was wearing were worn out? My shoes had about 50 miles of running in them, so they should have been broken in, enough. Whatever caused them this time, they sucked, but not enough to get me to stop.
Miles 47 through the Finish Line
So I ran and I ran, thanking volunteers at aid stations and waving to Eric Kosters as he road by on his dirt bike - the race's roving HAM radio operator. I made the little hike up to the Trabuco Trail head ad station and waved off any further support from the volunteers. With less than three miles to the finish and it all being downhill, I was good to go.
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| Photo by: Deborah Acosta |
While it's nice this race has a downhill finish, part of it is a really steep downhill and I hate it. It's hard to run it fast when you're legs are this tired. I kept telling myself - keep falling, keep falling, meaning fall forward and stop trying to put on the brakes. You're better off rolling downhill as fast as your legs can carry you than trying to fight gravity. The blisters hurt running downhill, too, but I was so tired of those damn things by this point that I hoped thay had all popped and were bloody messes in my socks.
Finally the steep downhill gave way to gradual downhill and I could open up my stride again and enjoy running. I ran down the pavement pretty hard and saw my dad waiting for me at the Falcon Trail head. He commented how much faster I ran the course this year and I commented on how much more it hurt, because god damn was I tired. At least now I was on Falcon with less than a 1/2 mile to go, I was home free. Falcon is a narrow single track and as I rounded one of the final bends I came across a big group of little kids hiking on the trail. They looked like they were from the lost minivans. My initial instinct was to kick them all out of my way down into the ravine, but before I could wind up they all jumped out of my way.
From there I made my way to the finish line unabated, crossing in 8:35:50 - 30 minutes faster than I ran it last year. With the field of runners I predicted that I was going to have to run my ass off to finish in the top 10 and I was right. My 30 minute PR put me eighth overall in the standings.
Jesus that was tough.
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