Winning the (first) 2012 El Moro 50k

“That guy must be doing the 25k. Look at his road racing flats and he seems too amped up to be running 50 kilometers,” I said to my girlfriend, Christina, about a guy standing a few feet away from us. The race director, Molly Kirchoff, called all the 50k runners over to the start line and the guy in the road race flats came with us. I turned around to Christina and went “huh, guess he is.”

The El Moro 50k is about my favorite race to run because it’s so close to home and in such a nice area – Newport Coast. It’s an ultra that’s raced within civilization. You also get really nice stuff for entering the race, are fed well after the race and the course is fast, so you get done quicker than most trail 50k’s.

 

Toeing the starting line the two people who had beaten me the previous two years at this race were out with injuries, so did that mean I should win? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t feel like I was in the best shape because my plan of doing several ultras in a short span of time kind of backfired on me because it tired me out so much. I pretty much crushed myself running Old Goat and never really let my body recover because I tried to jump right into training for the next race. 

Before I had much more time to size up the competition, Molly said “GO” and we were off. I lead out with Ryan Yohn, who if this race were five kilometers instead of 50, would have a great shot at winning the whole thing. The guy who looked too amped up to be running a 50k, Matt Robinson went out with us, too. 

I told myself that I wouldn’t go out hard in this race and let it come to me – the smart way to run an ultra, yet a strategy I hadn’t practiced since the San Diego 100. I ran my own pace at the start, a trot, and let Ryan and Matt run side-by-side a little ways in front of me on the trail. I kept at my trot, but pulled right up to them before we hit the first mile. I stayed content to sit on both of them, still not letting their pace dictate mine. At one point, on a little downhill, I accidentally slipped into the lead. When this happened, Matt left Ryan to run side-by-side with me. I wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but kept to my own pace. 

Once we made the turn to start the I-Think-I-Can climb, the first and longest climb of the race, I continued to trudge along not wanting to blow my wad on the first up. Matt went by me almost immediately and Ryan jogged past me a minute later. They ran ahead of me pretty much side-by-side up the climb. I cranked up my iPod and zoned out into my own little world.

Eventually the climbed peaked out and turned into a mostly descending trail for the next few miles. After not too long I made my way onto the back of Ryan and Matt again. Still keeping to my own pace, I made my way down the trail and at some point we dropped Ryan. I didn’t notice where, but eventually I did notice that there were only two of us. 

Matt stuck with me and continued to insist on running side-by-side with me. I concluded at this point that Matt’s strategy was instead of running his own race was to run with whoever the lead runner was, in hopes of outlasting them in the end. He was also doing a lot of looking around – not at the scenery but behind him to see how close other runners were. He also wasn’t carrying a water bottle. All this lead me to believe he doesn’t have experience running this type of race. 

We hit single track and I let Matt go in front. He scurried down the first big slope really fast. Everyone has different strategies on how to best run a course and different personal strengths and weaknesses, but, damn, he got down that rugged, steep slope faster than I think I would try even in a five mile race. We ran along the single track until we hit the first aid station just past the 5 mile mark. I never stop at this aid station because I never need to. I think Matt was a little surprised by this. He had to stop and grab a drink since he wasn’t carrying water. 

I waved to the volunteers and kept going on down the trail. After a little while, Matt caught back up to me again for some more side-by-side running. We continued in this fashion and hit the first steep climb – one that makes more sense to hike than try to run. We hiked and jogged our way up to the second aid station. It seemed like I was making Matt struggle to hike at my pace so I thought that if I put a push on, now, I could break free of him. When we peaked the climb I continued running past the aid station table instead of stopping to refill my bottle (it didn’t need filling anyway). Just as I started to drop down the trail on the other side of the hill I heard Matt say to someone “I’m going to have to let him go.” 

The climb up Rattle Snake trail out of the canyon is a bit of a bitch, but if you don’t try to knock it out of the park on this climb, it’s not too bad. I was taking it slow and steady and Matt caught up to me. I was expecting this so didn’t think much of it and lead the way down the single track on Red Tail. It was on this trail that I started hitting people running the 25k, who started at my turn-around point so were running the course in the opposite direction from me at this point in my race. I made room for all of them so we could both squeeze by and said hi to a few of them that I knew. 

Once I broke out of the brush that surrounds you on the single track and was on the double track I noticed that I was alone. I didn’t bother to look behind me, but I didn’t hear Matt’s breathing right over my shoulder so realized he had dropped back a bit. When I came round to the big Ridge Park aid station, I finally stopped and refilled my water bottle. I felt good, smiled to my parents and my girlfriend and took off for the turnaround aid station.

When I hit the turnaround aid station I stopped and refilled my bottle, again. I hadn’t stopped at this aid station before, though I think it’s because the previous two years the weather was cooler. Climbing back up from the turnaround is tough, but what was exciting was that it gave me the chance to judge my lead on the rest of the field, and it was good. I was pretty tired, but if I just pushed myself a little, the race was mine. 

Three hours into the race it was getting pretty hot and I was starting to wish I had two hand-helds instead of just the one. At least I wasn’t having pain in my IT band like I did for the last 10 miles of the 2011 race. However, my new injury was making running the final five miles really tough. I strained my lower abdominal muscle during the Leona Divide 50 Miler I had run two weeks before, so now just lifting my legs with each stride hurt like hell. The long downhill toward the end of the race that is normally so pleasant was only pleasant for the first half of it. By the lower half my shortened stride was causing a serious pounding in my lower back and that sucked. The final mile is flat, but it hurt so much to drive my legs I almost came to a stop and started walking. 

I finally hit the finish line and painfully hobbled to a stop. My parents and girlfriend were super proud of me, as was race director Molly, though Molly’s always concerned with how pale I look when I finish these races. I did plop down under a canopy and started rehydrating with some coconut water. It may taste like piss, but it does a body good. The best was after I was fed, Molly rewarded me with a whole slew of Oakley apparel, including a pair of their ridiculously expensive sunglasses. The stuff Oakley sponsors the race with is always pretty awesome. 

I was greatly looking forward to doing the El Moro 50k again next year in 2013, but learned that I don’t have to wait that long. Molly has changed the date of the race to October, so will be running a second Who’s in El Moro 50k/25k in 2012, on Saturday, October 20^th. I’m signed up!