San Francisco to Sin City Challenge

Hey guys!  Just at two weeks past Jemez Mountain Trail Race and I don't feel like I've been able to stop and relax since getting home.  If it's not running one of the kids to the dentist or to practice, it's spending the weekend away from the rest of the family for a baseball tournament.  Work, training, a wife with her own career, teenage boys, a six year-old girl that thinks she's a teenager and just life in general.  How do I fit it in each day?  Does it ever slow down? Will I ever catch up with what I need to get done?  Do you feel ever feel that way yourself?  Sure the pieces are different, but it life seems to be like a big puzzle and sometimes the pieces don't fit exactly so you deal with it. You roll with the punches, some harder than others. 

Then, you see the lives others and wonder if the maybe you're not even rolling with "the punches". Maybe they're just some jabs, maybe not even that.  The things that you think are such a hassle in your life seem to be mere road bumps compared to the punches other people face in their daily lives.  One such life is that of a friend of mine from high school.  Through the powers of Facebook I was reconnected with Beth.  About Twenty-five years since I had last seen her, but still the same beautiful smile I remembered from my high school days.  Still the fun and energetic Beth.  While we didn't communicate directly or message, there were random posts that maybe we "liked" or commented on, but never getting into anything personal.  However, I seemed to notice that Beth's post were always positive, in support of something, a bit of an activist it seemed and not afraid to support a cause.  I found that a nice change from the negative or derogatory comments that could be made through social media, unfortunately even from me at times.  Never from Beth.

In the meantime, I had decided 2011 would bring another charitable challenge for me to follow up on 2010's Boston 2 Big Sur challenge. What would it be, I had no idea.  Who would be the beneficiary, no idea, but most likely a local children's organization again.  Then May rolled around and Beth changed her profile picture on Facebook to a Lupus Awareness logo.  What, Lupus?  Does she have Lupus and I have so selfishly never realized this fact? How did I miss this?  What kind of friend am I that I didn't even realize her situation? A short FB message to her, which I was totally stressed about sending, answered my questions, and with more detail than I expected, but exactly what I wanted to know.  I had asked if there was anyway that I could help and suggested my running and something similar to what I had done last year.

Beth's response was again completely positive and described some of her daily life with Lupus, what she has been through, what life was like before Lupus, her treatments, medication, it was all so incredible to me because through it all, she was still Beth.  Still the fun girl I remembered, yet a woman now with a husband and children and now she was rolling with the punches.  To think of what she had been through, what she deals with and the road she has ahead of her is amazing to me.  From Beth's response that she has graciously allowed me to share:

I was diagnosed with Lupus six years ago, but I have experienced symptoms since the pregnancy of our second daughter in 2001. It has meant radical changes in my lifestyle, mostly because I am incredibly photosensitive. UV exposure triggers the Lupus, and I have to completely cover up when outdoors and wear 50+ sunscreen. Before Lupus, I mountain biked and ran daily. New Mexico has some of the highest UV exposure in the country, so Albuquerque is about the worst place I could live. It has meant changes for my family too. It was difficult explaining to the kids why I couldn't play outdoors. When I throw caution to the wind, which is easy on a beautiful spring day like today, I risk being in bed for a few days with painful joints, fever and unbelievable fatigue. People with Lupus have a 40-50 fold risk of arteriosclerosis than the average population. That terrifies me. So, I exercise indoors now. I'm at the gym daily, taking spin class or doing the elliptical. I miss running but biking is much easier on the joints.



Early onset, lupus created small lesions in my brain and spinal cord, damaged my peripheral nerves and vascular system and has affected my lungs. I took oral chemotherapy for 3 years, which put me into remission. I voluntarily stopped the chemo last year, worried about the long term effects (cancer and liver damage) of staying on the drug. The downside is my photosensitivity and fatigue creep up on me. I came out of remission last fall and had to take high doses of prednisone. I gained 25 lbs, from the prednisone. I've learned to recognize my limits and listen to my body. When I am tired, I rest. I've learned to be less of a perfectionist and planner, I live more spontaneously. I lost a lot of friends early on, who did not understand my sudden need to cancel plans, my need to rest during the day. "I wish I had the luxury to nap during the day." But the friends that have stuck by me are fantastic. And, of course, my family has been amazing support.




Beth and me in Santa Fe

 The decision for me was a no brainer. Beth and the Lupus Foundation of America, Inc. would be the beneficiary of my next challenge, something that coincidentally that had already been brewing due to some crazy running friends. I wasn't totally sold on the idea of doing it, but Beth's response made it a done deal.   Over a period of a couple of years, a number of guys and girls that run marathons had become friends through a Runners World forum thread, "3:20" as we refer to it, meeting in small groups occasionally at various races throughout the country, but most notably to us at the 2010 Boston Marathon where 14 of us met up to hang out and race over the weekend. That culminated with the Boston 2 Big Sur challenge in which 4 of us flew from the east coast after just having run Boston on Monday to run the Big Sur Marathon on Sunday on the west coast. Now this year, a challenge that seemed to start as joke was now gaining momentum.  A handful of the guys were toying with the idea of running the California International Marathon (CIM) on the morning of December 4th in Sacramento, CA and then immediately boarding a plane and flying to Las Vegas to run the Las Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Marathon that afternoon.  I immediately said I was out knowing that I was going to run  The North Face Endurance Challenge Championship 50 mile race on December 3rd. Of course that thought lasted less than a day before I made it known that I was in, but instead of CIM, I would still run the 50 mile race on Saturday and then fly to Las Vegas the next morning to join several members of the 3:20 crew running all or some part of the original challenge.  In a nutshell, I'll be running the 50 mile trail race on Saturday in whcih I hope to break the 9 hour barrier and then running the full marathon on The Strip the next day in which my goal is to avoid the sweep, the 4.5 hour cutt-off.

After reading Beth's response I was just overwhelmed. Not really sure how to describe it, but inspired was probably the best description.  A real person dealing with the punches that life throws at her and it put mine into respective. They're nothing.  Beth was now my "go to" person for inspiration.  Someone that continues to live life to the fullest no matter what, someone to remind me to do the same. Don't make excuses, just do it.

As luck has it, I just happened to be heading to the Albuquerque area for the Jemez Mountains race and had asked Beth and friends from the high school area if they would like to meet up for lunch. As it turned out, Beth was the only one able to make it and join me and some other runners the day before Jemez in Santa Fe.  We didn't really discuss the fundraising, but instead just tried to catch up on what was now 26 yrs since we had last seen each other.  Beth graciously served a our tour guide on a drive around downtown Santa Fe and offered up some great suggestions for dining for our day after the race. In addition, Beth totally surprised me by making it know that after more than ten years since running her last 1/2 marathon she would be training to run The World's Largest Nighttime Running Event , the R'n'R 1/2 marathon.  Woo hoo, go Beth!  Incredible, nothing less than what I would expect from her, but still unexpected if that makes any sense?  She said that spending the day with ultra runners was inspiring to her which was great to hear because the feeling was mutual.

So here it is, our next six months.  Join Beth and I as we will be training for our races and campaigning through this blog to bring awareness of Lupus and the work of the Lupus Foundation of America, Inc.  We hope to provide you with an insight of our training including trials and tribulations along the way, the "punches" we each face in our daily lives and hopefully we can inspire you in some small way.  You get the easy part, provide your support to us in any way possible, even if just your encouragement as it will mean a lot to us.  Or, if you would like, there's still time to register and join us in Las Vegas for the party that we are sure to have after crossing the finishline the night of December 4th.  And remember, what happens in Vegas.......we'll remember forever!  Thanks and take care!

Jemez Mountains Trail Run 50 Miler

Okay, I've edited this post to apologize for the length........it's long, but hey, it was 50 miles.......here you go..........

After a six month hiatus from posting, I'm back with what originally got me started with this blog, Jemez Mountains.  I first came across the craziness of the ultra world and Jemez Mountain Trail Run while reading Dean Karnazes' book Ultra Marathon Man back in 2008.  I was 40 and in the midst of training for my 2nd marathon.  The significance being that it was a Boston qualifying attempt, my goal since hitting the big 4-0. I told Gina at that time that I would run my first 100-miler by the time I was 45 despite the fact that I'd only run one 5K, one 10K and one marathon at that point.  I'm not sure either of us believed it, but it was something to shoot for as a long-term goal.  The idea of doing a 50 mile race for charity struck me at the time and while things didn't quite work out as originally planned, I ended up with both a 50 miler and a fundraising effort, but in unrelated events.


Fast forward about two years and I found myself registered for Jemez, finally. And to boot, I had four friends lining up with me, the first 50 for three of them, nice. With the exception of Amy, the rest of us had just run the Boston Marathon less than 5 weeks earlier and we  all had pretty good races.  Amy had been busy tearing up 50K trails. This would probably be the strongest overall group of runners that I had been with for a race, all of us being in the 3 to sub 3 marathon range.  Of course that meant nothing here as we are all flatlanders with minimal experience at altitude.  Jemez being arguably one of the hardest 50's was certain to provide a challenge for all of us.


We rented a loft in Santa Fe where we would have a runners haven for a few days.  We all flew in to Albuquerque Thursday from different places and then had about an hour drive to Santa Fe.  After lunch at Cafe Cafe and getting in settled in at the loft, we drove another 35 miles to Los Alamos to pick up our race packets.  Incredible views along the way with snow capped mountains.  We were all getting pretty excited just being there and knowing that we were less than 48 hours away from the toughest race we had ever done.



Team Endurasoak:  Nick, Shaheen, me, Amy and Jayna

 A 5:00 a.m. start meant a pretty early rise.  Most of us were up by 2:45 and we headed out of the loft at 3:45.  We pulled into Los Alamos about 4:25 and we had to scramble to hit the porta Johns, check in with our drop bags and get to the start. Even though we had already picked up our race packets Thursday, runners were required to check-in race morning so that race officials would know who was out on the course. After checking in, I quickly pinned my bib on my shorts and headed out the door to the start on the road just feet in front of the cabin.  I found the four others as well as a 5th friend, Edgar, also from Dallas.  He was originally registered for the 50K, but was allowed to switch to the 50 mile on Thursday so that he could join us.  Good idea? 

Amy and me




Inside the cabin just moments before the start

Seems like we were lined up for less than a minute and then we were off in the dark. I was still fumbling with my headlamp, but fortunately had already turned on my Garmin and acquired satellite signal. We quickly hit some single-track stuff that had the 6 of us backed up, to a standstill at a couple of points.  Amy and I got a little restless behind some of the crowd and we forged ahead of the crowd.  We just wanted some breathing room and we found it. In doing so, we unintentionally left the others behind as they wisely had more patience than we did.


We quickly started our first climb of the day, which I later found out was just a teaser.  It was about a 1,500ft climb to Guaje Ridge and ended up being the easiest of all the climbs due to the switchbacks, something the other climbs lacked. Once at the top, we had traveled 7.1 miles in just over 1:31.






Climbing Guaje Ridge



Amy in a pose she would strike a few times, deservedly so

View from top of Guaje Ridge back down on Los Alamos

With the first small climb behind us, we had a short downhill section in which we dropped about 900ft over roughly a mile before starting the ascent up Caballo Mountain.  This was all still single track running and the first of what was considered our real climbs.  It was roughly an 1,800ft climb of what was a 4 mile loop to the top of the mountain and 1,800ft back down.  It wasn't far into it, at mile 10.6 actually, that Nick Clark passed us on his was back down.  That would have put him at 13.4, roughly 2.8 miles ahead of us.  On our way up we were passed by a handful of runners that were obviously much better at climbing than we were.  We hit the the top of Caballo Mountain, 12 miles and at 10,480ft right at 3hours. Averaging 4 miles an hour so far.

Top of Caballo Mountain, 10,460ft.

Coming back down Caballo was probably the funnest part of the day for me.  I followed Amy and she literally flew down the mountain.  We were flying by runners still on their way up as well as most of those that had passed us climbing Caballo.  It was pretty much a wreckless descent to the bottom.  The two miles that took us 50:40 to climb took us less than 20 minutes to cover on the way back down.  The crazy thing is that it felt like we were doing sub 7 pace.  Reflecting on that section, I remember that there was a fair amount of switchbacks along that section as I actually overshot a couple coming down and had to grab trees or tree limbs to keep from crashing.  At the base of Caballo we were 14.2 miles and 3hrs 22min into our day .  Still a lot of miles and climbing ahead of us.


Over the next 2.8 miles we would climb over 1,100ft before reaching the Pipeline aid station, the site of our first drop bags.  It was there that I decided to go with a 2nd handheld water bottle, pick up my first solid food, some Lenny & Larry Muscle Brownies and ditch the arm sleeves.  It felt like it was starting to warm up about now, roughly 9:15 a.m..


Just outside of the aid station was Nate's Nemesis.  I had seen pictures, watched video of a runner's descent and was warned by a friend to be careful at that spot.  Only when I actually stood in front of it did I realize the nature of the drop.  "Holy shit" was all I could think.  I've read from others that the grade decline was somewhere between 50-70%......straight down in other words.

Starting descent down Nate's Nemesis

Oh my!

Once we hit the bottom, the course opened up and we were actually able to run side by side for some length on a dirt jeep track.  The next 4 miles were some pretty decent running and I clocked two of my three fastest miles along the way, a 9:04 and a 9:39.


Valles Grande

The next aid station, Valle Grande would be at mile 21 and just over 5 hours after we had started.  It was here that I would raid the race offered food supply for the first time.  Ruffles potato chips were being crammed into my mouth as if I were in some sort of contest.  The salty chips were heaven. Overall I think I was feeling okay, but to think that I was only 40% of the way there was a bit overwhelming.  On top of that, I didn't realize what lie ahead just over a mile away.  

Aid station at mile 21, just before Cerro Grande Mountain

At the station we would head left and start our run towards Cerro Grande, our 3rd major climb of the day.  The view in this area was unreal.  Once off of the road and crossing through the valley, we commented on how the area looked as if it had not even yet been discovered by man.  We wondered when the buffalo or maybe even a covered wagon would enter our sight.  No, we weren't oxygen deprived just yet, but just amazed with the scenery.






Starting the climb of Cerro Grande

The climb of Cerro Grande was about 2 miles and 1,800ft.  It was in this section that we encountered the talus/rock field that I had seen so many times in photos.  But as with Nate's Nemesis, photos didn't prepare me for the obstacle.  Unreal!  It was in the stretch of mile 23 that we hit the rocks.  Per my Garmin, mile 23 took a mere 42:31 and we climbed over 1,400 ft in that one mile.  I can remember looking at my Garmin during that stretch and seeing a 50:xx pace, wow!


Yep, there's the orange flag, that's the right way, and that's a person up there.





Are we there yet?



No, I'm not a miniature, those rocks are really that big.

Fortunately, the course veered off to the right of the rocks and we then went straight up the mountain.  Or was that better ??  We're still debating which was more difficult. As we got higher I starting feeling lightheaded and a bit of nausea.  I could feel my pulse in my head and knew that the altitude was getting to me.  I looked at my Garmin to see that we had gone up over the 9,600ft and still had climbing to do.  I didn't think it would ever end.  At some point I took the liberty of renaming the mountain The Neverf***ingendingmountain.  I don't think it will stick, but I'm guessing I wasn't the first to come up with that name.

Somewhere near the top of Cerro Grande

In addition to the altitude bothering me, I could feel that my IT band was not real thrilled to be working on this day.  It had started bothering me two weeks prior on a 30 mile training run and I had been trying to keep it from flaring up.  What was a concern entering the day was now a reality, but how would it affect me? We made it to the top of Cerro Grande, 10,213ft in 6hrs, 3minutes and 23 miles in. Mile 23 was a whopping 42:31.  That was an uninterrupted mile, no aid stations, not stops, just slow moving.  Getting to the top and heading down brought another surprise, more of the talus field to navigate through.



Talus on the way down.

It was shortly after navigating through the rocks that I found out that my IT band was NOT going to let me run any technical downhill sections.  Amy took off as she did from Caballo Mountain and I called upon myself to do the same, but the pain shooting through my knee said no way.  I tried repeatedly, but the right knee was very unstable and there was no way I could plant on it coming down. I never saw her again until the finish line. I basically had one good leg and 27 miles to go.  Sonofabitch! 

From the downside of Cerro Grande to Pajarito Canyon, running was sketchy.  There were some stretches that were not too technical and I could actually run them as long as they weren't uphill.  The paces for miles 24-28 were as follows:  16:04, 10:27, 9:51, 11:05, and 12:16. The elevation over that distance dropped from about 9,400ft to 7,900ft.  If it was a smooth downhill, the running wasn't bad, but anything technical brought me to a walk. 

Good running trail through Canyon de Valle

Somewhere in the 29th mile I came into the Pajarito Canyon aid station.  By this time it was about 20 minutes after noon and getting hot.  I stripped off the singlet and applied sunscreen in the aid station, loaded my two handheld bottles and headed back out knowing I was on the downside of the 50 mile course, but barely.  My thinking at this point based on my ITB and knee was "one aid station at a time".  The next one was a mere 4 miles away, all uphill on the way back to Pajarito Mountain.  At some point in this climb I looked back for some reason and then did a double take.  There was Shaheen and Edgar about 50 yards behind me. I had been worried about the Dallas contingency and there wherabouts up until this point.  Seeing the two of them made me feel better.  I didn't stop to wait for them because I knew at the pace I was moving (somewhere between a snail and a turtle) they would catch me prett quick. We weren't together for very long as they were both doing better than me and I had no desire to try to keep up.  I couldn't.  Before long they were out of sight.


Those next 4 miles of virtually nothing but walking took about 1hr, 20 min and seemed like an eternity.  While trying to calculate in my head how long the remaining distance would take, I estimated my arrival to be early Sunday morning.  Actually, I was beginning to wonder at what point I would stop and call it a day.  Climbing back up over 10,400ft, the altitude once again bothering me, the heat of the day and what seemed like no hope to be able to run at all the rest of the day, I had to consider the reality of shutting it down, quitting, previously unspoken words

Townsite Lift Aid station at mile 32.6



View from up on Pajarito Mountain

The peak of Pajarito Mountain was reached around mile 34 per my Garmin reading, the 4th and final major climb. Elevation was just under 10,500ft and there was some relief that the hardest part of climbing for the day was over. It was 2:15 in the afternoon and now everything else would be at a lower elevation and for the most part, downhill. While I found relief in that fact, I was in a great deal of pain and the daunting task of running 16 more miles was almost unthinkable. The possibility of a DNF now was looming larger than ever over me and the probability seemed good.


Making my way down Pajarito I unknowingly missed a turnoff and somehow started running down a jeep track. While my knee was killing me, it was a straight downhill shot and I decided to let gravity take me and run with it. However, the lack of orange flags or ribbons had me concerned until I saw a familiar sight, trail I had already run. As I stopped in my tracks and tried to figure out what in the hell I had just done, I heard another runner yell at me from maybe 40 yards away, “hey, it’s this way” to which I disgustingly responded “yeah, I know, I’ve already been there”. He was headed up a path I had taken not so long ago. I turned around and started my walk of shame back up the hill to where I had just come from. It couldn’t have been more than a quarter of a mile from where I went off track, but it felt like forever. By the time I got there, the same runner was making his way around the orange markers and down a hill that I had missed just in front of me. Maybe a half mile total off of course so not too bad.


I continued to make my way downhill anyway that I could manage, most notably slowly. I just wanted to get to the next aid station and then weigh my options, get some G2 mix that I had because I was about sick of Heed at this point. I came to the ski slope and could see a few runners down below me. From the size of them, I could tell they were quite a distance off and more importantly, I could see just how steep this slope was. Per my Garmin, it indicated that it dropped off about 670ft in ½ mile straight down. Someone mentioned that it was like Double Black Diamond slope, but who knows, I'm not a skier so it really meant nothing to me.  It was steep and that's all that mattered.  I stepped off of the trail and opted to try to go down on the grass instead. It appeared that I’d have better footing with the grass clumps than on the narrow dirt trail with loose rocks. Being the my footing was unstable as it was, I didn’t want to end up rolling to the bottom although it would have been much faster. Earlier I had heard a lot of whooping and hollering off in the distance so I knew that I was close to the next aid station, Townsite Lift, I just wasn’t sure how close.


While making my way down the slope in a sideways and almost backwards manner at times, I was actually passed up by 4 young hikers on their way down. If that wasn’t disheartening, I’m not sure what could have topped it. Once I made it to the bottom, there was another dirt road and I could then see the Townsite Lift station. At the time, I thought it was Pipeline instead which made no sense because I had already hit that station once before. It just shows how well my mind was functioning at that point. As I made my way down the road into the station, I was literally hopping and practically skipping to get in at anything faster than walking pace. It was all I could do to get to the stairs at the decking of the lift and ask a volunteer for my drop bag. Of course the response was that our drop bags were at the next aid station. I quickly looked at my forearm where I had written down all of the aid station mile markers to see that I had about 3 more miles to go. Slight miscalculation.


When asked by the volunteer how I was, and it was quite obvious, my response was not good. He asked what it was and I explained the issue with my IT band. He told me to come up on the deck and have a seat at which point to my surprise I noticed Shaheen and Edgar sitting there. Shaheen had badly twisted her ankle and was done. She was awaiting a ride back to the start and Edgar was just hanging tight with her. Another volunteer came to my side and asked if she could massage my leg to see if it would help to which I said sure. In my head I knew it wouldn’t do much, but it bought me time to think out my next move. She too seemed genuinely concerned and if nothing else, it was at least comforting to know they were great people who cared about all of the runners.  After a couple minutes and downing 3 ibuprofen, I decided to get up so that I could stretch it and see if that helped. I had only done that what seemed like 20 times before along the way without much success, but it couldn’t hurt. The volunteer asked what I wanted to do and I said I was going to the next aid station and that I would evaluate the situation there. He looked me in the face quite seriously and said, I can’t keep you here, but if you leave your’re pretty much committing yourself to the final 14 miles. There no other place from here on in that we could send a vehicle for you should you drop. Wow, now what? I told him to let me think about it and paced around a bit in somewhat of an emotional wreck inside because I didn’t come there to run 36 miles. I asked Edgar if he wanted to go with me and he was game. Neither of us wanted to leave Shaheen alone, but we had some miles left and she was in good hands with volunteers that would take her back to the start. Edgar said to hold on until he went to the restroom, maybe the only true restroom on the course, and then we’d go. Just as we were about to head out the bell was ringing for another runner coming in and it was Nick.  Yes, he was still in it and looking pretty good.  Edgar quickly went over the situation with Nick and we took off out of there.  Nick was going to stay back for a bit. At this point, I was 36.2 miles along and about 10hrs, 15min into the race and it was about 3:15.  I had traveled 2 miles in just over 59 minutes.  Turtle.


The next 3 miles I really don't remember much about them.  About 47 minutes to cover a net gain of 670ft of gradual incline, nothing too steep.  I was able to run the some of it my with my main focus on staying with Edgar.  He did a great job of keeping us going. Before long we we made our way into Pileline Aid Station and were now only 11 miles from the finish at 5:00 p.m., 11 hours into the race.  I reached into my drop bag for the final time and grabbed my iPod.  I needed some "Pearl Jam: Live from Boston".  I thought I had two G2 powder mixes as well, but apparently not, that sucked.  Heed it would be for the distance. A coule swipes of BodyGlide on each rib cage and inside arm and we were out of there.  Well, actually I also filled a baggie of Lay's potato chips and carried that out with me. 


Putting on my iPod at Pipeline. Ready to be done with this thing. 

Coming out of Pipeline aid station was a good feeling.  I had been there once before and finally got the feeling that the homestretch was nearing.  The view up that long road wasn't all that great, but I'd been over worse so I'd deal with it and I felt like with just under 11 miles to go and most of it in the downhill nature, I would make it.  Having Edgar there to run with certainly help me stay focused on getting it done.

View of jeep track out of Pipeline Aid Station



View from Guaje Ridge heading back towards Los Alamos

The rest of the trek in was long. The next 8 miles dropped about 2,600ft and we covered it in 1:30:30, roughly 11:20 per mile, well below the average pace per mile for the entire race.  After that stretch, we were able to get in just over one more mile before my Garmin gave out, battery dead.  Woo hoo, I outlasted the Garmin. While most of the final couple miles seemed to be runnable, there was a lot of walking the last couple of miles on some uphill stuff, including another 15+ minute mile, #48.



Coming back down Guaje Ridge............I think?

 I don't really remember a whole lot other than the fact that Edgar had pulled away at some point and I was content just to finish. I didn't try to keep upwith him, besides the ibuprofen had wore off and my knee was really hurting again.  I once again started to have some concern that the finish I recently thought was a certainty might not be.  However, as we winded our way down Guaje and back towards Los Alamos, he came back into my sight and there we were again.  I was his shadow over the course of the last 5 or 6 miles we and passed 5 runners that I specifically remember passing me somewhere earlier in the day.  While I didn't feel like it was some great accomplishment at the time, it at least reminded me that I wasn't the only one struggling to finish.  Along the way I had been keeping an eye on my watch with hope of breaking 13 hours.  The goal at the beginning of the day of sub 12 was long gone.


As we continued to make our way in, it seemed like we'd never get there and the hopes of sub 13 seemed to be getting slim.  We hit the last aid station and had 1.9 miles to go and just over 30 minutes time to get there. I didn't want to to stop because I was concerned about time, but Edgar needed water and I wasn't going on without him. One of the volunteers convinced me to drink a cup of Coke while they refilled Edgar's water and that was a good move.  Coke never tasted so good.


Sub 13, surely we could do it?  Easier said than done.  It was a struggle as it seemed quite a bit of the last two miles were uphill or rolling hills which brought on a lot of walking by both of us.  As we had left the station I heard one of the runners we had passed coming in so it seemed that he was gaining on us, incentive to try to keep moving, but there was only so much we could physically do.  Did it even matter what placement or time we finished?  For some reason it did to me, I couldn't help it. Coming to the top of every hill and every corner I kept expecting to see something that resembled the finish line or buildings or people or anything that indicated we were close to the finish. Instead, it would just bring another turn, more hills, more trail, a 50K runner. Anything but the finish line and I was growing frustrated.  And to boot, one of the other runners passed us.  He appeared to be paced in for the last mile by his girlfriend or wife as wehad  passed her just after leaving the last station.  I yelled to Edgar "let's go, we gotta break 13" and found one final surge.  Besides that, I didn't want to give up that spot and I ended up getting it back.  I apologize for still being competitive at that point, but a spot in the standings was a spot in the standngs. 


As I came up a hill I saw the sign I had been looking for all along.  Volunteers or spectators letting us know the finish was just around the corner, and it was.  As I rounded that final corner I came up on a female runner that I had traded places with a couple of times earlier in the day.  I probably could have made a complete ass out of myself and sprinted past her as well, but opted not to do so.  She had run a strong race and was really nice to me with concern earlier in the day when I was struggling (I know, at this point you're saying to yourself  "Could you be more specific? Wasn't that pretty much all day").  I was satisfied crossing the line just behind her, done finally, 12:58:15, 54th place overall and an average pace of 15:34 per mile.  Just over 9 minutes per mile slower than my marathon pace. 

Just feet from the finish line



Edgar finishing strong, thanks for the company buddy!

As I came across the finish line there was Amy with her camera and big ol' smile. Looking like she had just finished a 10K. It was so good to see her and know that we had made it. She ended up 5th female with a time of 12:21.......quite studly, but I would expect nothing less from her.  She is the Real Deal for sure!  Edgar was right on my tail at 12:59 and inside the cabin were our two other girls, Jayna and Shaheen, both in safely, but not feeling so well due to their injuries.  They both ended up dropping at the 36 mile aid station. Nick came across not long after at 13:31 with a grin from ear to ear and at that point we were all present and accounted for.  That's what mattered most.

Twinkies?  Tough Twinkies for sure, Jayna and Shaheen.

Once in the cabin it was time to fuel up, I was tired, but so hungry.  I actually had 3 green chili cheeseburgers, sugar cookies, chips and God knows what else.  More junk food in the next hour than I had eaten in the whole year and I didn't even feel remorse.  I must have had lingering altitude issues I guess? 


While I didn't get my goal time, I was okay with accepting that for the time being I am just a middle of the road ultra runner.  What I had done in Boston last month was thrown out the window here.  But that's okay with me because that's what will motivate me for the time being.  Practically the whole time out there on the course I was telling myself "never again will I run Jemez, never ever never".  But it wasn't long after finishing that I started thinking, I can break 12 out there, maybe even 11?  We'll see about that next May.


In the meantime, I want to congratulate all of those that gave it their best shot out there on Saturday whether they finished or not.  Just attempting to tackle such a challenge is awesome and quite respectable.  I always pride myself on being mentally tough, but I don't know that I could ever put into words how difficult that was, both physically and mentally. Not many would even consider attempting such a day. 


I also want to thank Amy for her pictures.  Most of those above are her work as I gave up on my camera at mile 17. It was too much trouble.  So on top of being an ultra All-Star, she's a pretty damned good photographer.  I kidded her that she could have probably knocked off 20-30 minutes had she not taken picutres.  I'm glad she did.  Also major thanks to Edgar.  A guy I just met the day before was a major help in my getting to the finish line Saturday night, thanks man!


Thanks for stopping in for the read and I promise it won't be six months until the next one (I'm sure you can't wait).  I've got something brewing that I want to share with you when all the details are figured out. 


Take care!

The North Face Endurance Challenge Championship

Well, ready or not, the weekend was finally here. The North Face Endurance Challenge 50 mile race.  I had registered for it not long after running the Boston Marathon in April.  How did I come about choosing this race one may ask?  Well, mainly just due to timing and location. First, because a standard marathon was the furthest I had run at that point, I figured 8 months would be enough time to train for a 50.  Secondly, the location was one that was both easy to get to and the scenery was rated 5 stars on the race website.  I ignored the 5 star rating for "elevation change" and "overall difficulty", just minor details that I could deal with later.

One one hand I was both anxious and excited for what would be the most physical challenge of my life.  On the other hand, I was skeptical about my training, both on hills and overall mileage. I convinced myself that a strong effort and respectable finish would be all I could ask for out of myself.  Just don't embarrass myself out there.  Besides, I was running with the big dogs this time.  From what I had read in the days leading up to the race, this could be considered the strongest field ever assembled for an ultra marathon in both the men's and women's class. 

Unlike a marathon, I had no idea what to expect out of my body, especially considering the elevation changes throughout the course.  I expected this would be a true test of my mental toughness.  In addition to the course itself, I wasn't sure what mother nature would throw at us.  The forecast had a 50% chance of rain all week with temps in the 40's & 50's.  The temperature was not a concern, but the rain was.  It caused a little stress about what I would wear.  Would it drizzle, rain or pour?  Would it be freezing cold with an early morning rain?  Muddy?  How muddy would it be? A lot for one to think about on top of the fact that that it was already a challenge with just the distance and the course. 

Fortunately the race allowed for gear bags on the course.  Four of the eleven stations would serve as gear bag drops.  Each drop site woould actually be hit twice over the course of the race and therefore only two bags actually dropped.  I loaded them up with my preference of hydration (purple G2) and nutrition (Honey Stinger gels, Lenny & Larry's Muscle Brownie's and PowerBar Energy Blasts) as well as changes of shorts, shirts, shoes and socks and an assortment of other items I thought could come in handy. I later realizedI failed to packe the extra clothes, but it was never an issue.  I also had a huge gear bag at the start/finish area that allowed for warm clothes pre and post run.

Race morning, up and out of bed at 2:00 a.m., in the car by 2:45 and a short drive over to the Golden Gate Ferry Terminal to catch a shuttle to the start.  At the start area by 4:00, get all gear bags checked in staying full dressed as long as possible to stay warm and then a last minute trip to the portta potties.  They were situated a little ways up a hill and as I walked up to I couldn't help but think "OMG, this is going to kill me".  I even joked with a fellow racer that I pulled a hamstring climbing the hill up to the bathroom.

Pre-race goofball picture. WTH with the visor?

5:07 a.m. and I'm on the start line.  A quick glance to my left and I realize that the lady that just squeezed her way up towards the front is Kami Semick.  "Kami, hey, I'm Ron's friend from Texas".  It was just crazy. I was just standing there looking at Geoff Roes, Lizzy Hawker, Kami Semick and Dakota Jones in addition to all of the other elites that I didn't recognize. I will add that I saw two or three Anton Krupicka wannabes with the long hair and beards, but he actually pulled out from the race earlier in the week due to injury so I knew he wasn't there.  Then it was 5:08 and we were off and running.



As soon as we headed up the hill and hit a short stretch of pavement I knew this was an elite field.  There were so many runners ahead that just shot out of there.  For the first coupe of miles there wasn't much elevation change so the pace was a little quick, but once we hit the hills and the pace would be all over the place.  About 4 miles in to it my digestive system started talking to me and letting me know we were going to have some issues.  I knew, I just knew it was going to happen. 



Early morning, maybe before first aid station?







The first aid station was at mile 5.8 and I ran through it.  I had my own gels and my G2 in a handheld water bottle so I was good.  Another 3.1 miles and I arrived at Tennessee Valley aid station which was also the first gear bag drop.  At that point I found great relief in a vacant porta potty.  I then found my gear bag, filled up my bottle, grabbed another gel and my sunglasses.  While it was still dark, I was hoping the sun would come up soon and that they would come into use.  So as to save the suspense, they didn't and I later dumped them off at another gear bag drop. 



A little cold singletrack action on the hillside



Somewhere along the way the rain came back.  It wasn't a downpour, but enough to concern me that it might get muddy.  In addition, it kept it cool.  For some reason I had shed the gloves at the first bag drop and was now wishing I had them back.  I always have a problem with my fingers getting cold.

Two more aid stations got me to Bootjack for the 2nd gear bag at mile 18.9.  I pulled in just under 3 hours and 3 minutes.  A bit under 10 minute pace which I was happy with, but I knew I couldn't hold it.  I was already feeling very fatigued and somewhat concerned about the next 32 miles that lie ahead.  I got some help from a very nice lady in changing my shoes.  I had to transfer my timing chip from my MT 101's over to the Brooks Cascadias.  I had made a last minute decision to go with the 101's based on a shuttle conversation with a runner, but I thought I was going to need better traction if it got too muddy.  Loaded up on more G2, grabbed my own Lenny & Jerry's Muscle brownie, a gel and I was off again.  I immediately could feel the extra weight of the much heavier Cascadia's on my feet.  Wow, maybe not a good choice, but I was sticking with it now.  I tried to convince myself that the superior traction of the shoes would come in handy as well as the overall support.  Looking back I don't know if it was a good choice or not, but it was the one I made.

 

The mud and the shoes I switched to, the Brooks Cascadia 6.

 

My goal was to try to stay as close to that 10:00 pace as possible now. Six miles per hour, c'mon I could do it right?  Nope, I couldn't.  It took me 1:01 to knock out the next 5 miles.  In that section there was an out and back to McKennan Gulch in which I would see the leaders coming back the other direction while we ran on a single track on a hillside.  As the leaders approached those of us still going out, we would step of the track and get out of the way.  They were moving.  The section was maybe 2 miles long, so about 4 when doubled.  I didn't recognize the leading men, but did recognize Kami as she passed me again when I was at 21.65 miles.  Doing the math in my head  I could tell that she was already about 4 miles ahead of me.  Of course I didn't think I was going to hang with her, but just wanted to get an idea of how great the elites were.  Soon after there was Jenn Shelton and Texas' very own Liza Howard, winner of this year's Leadville 100. 

The turnaround at McKennan Gulch aid station was just shy of mile 24.  It was raining and I was cold and starving.  This was the first station that I stopped at for food.  I had a couple hands full of Ruffles chips, 3 or 4 small round brownies and a qtr of a PB&J and then I was off again.  You'd think the turnaround meant the halfway point, but I knew better.  The runners guide said 51.2 miles so I knew I was still shy of the midway point. 

In the week prior to the race, I had studied the guide, the aid station locations and distances between each, but somehow things started getting a bit fuzzy for me and for much of the race back towards the start I just took what the course gave.  I had totally got lost on where things were such as the hills, aid stations and significant landmarks. 

As it turns out, it was 4.7 miles to the next station and then 3.4 more miles before the course circled back to Bootjack, 31.7 miles in and just under 20 left.  I filled my water bottle, grabbed another muscle brownie and was out of there.  This was in the Muir Woods so many of the upcoming miles would be run under tree cover, up and down several steps, over and under trees, through at least one Redwood, a few bridges and a ladder.

By chance I happened to leave Bootjack with a group of 3 runners.  It consisted of both a male and female 50 mile participant and a male pacer for the female.  I didn't intend to, but ended up following them for several miles through the woods and a couple of aid stations.  We may have even leap frogged each other a few of times, I'm not sure, but it seemed that I would be ahead of the female racer as I approached aid stations and she would be ahead of me by the time we left them.  I didn't feel like I spent more than a couple minutes tops at the stations, but she spent even less.  A very efficient runner.  The male racer that was a friend of the other two eventually left us behind and ended up beating me by about 16 minutes.



There were other racers along this section that seemed to either pull ahead or fall back, not really sure as I lost track of them in the woods.  I just wasn't too concerned about beating anyone, but instead just trying to finish with a decent time.  When the day started, the goal was under 9 hrs.  As it progressed, Mr. Mathematician had some work to do figuring out time left to get 9.5, 10, and then eventually 10.5.  At some point in the race, just trying to determine the pace I needed to get 5 miles in one hour was a challenge.   It may as well have been titled The North Face Endurance and Math Challenge.



Powerwalking behind Larissa on Coyote Ridge leaving Muir Beach

Coming out of Tennessee Valley aid station for the second time I found myself a long distance behind Larissa (the female racer).  Larissa didn't even stop that I noticed, but Rick (her pacer) did as did I.  The two of us left at the same time and we could see that she was way ahead up the hill.  One of the handful of hills that seemed to never end. In addition to Larissa, I could see green jacket guy (who I later found out was a Brazillian in my age group).  I was on his tail much earlier in the day, maybe around before mile 13 when he dropped a lightweight green jacket that was tied around his waist and I picked it up for him.  Look closely and you can see him here from the early stages of the race.  No, look even closer than that, he's midway up the hill.



 

   Green jacket guy from early in the race, maybe before Muir Beach station at 13.9??? 





 

In addition now, it was evident that there were several runners ahead of me.  It appeared that we had joined up with the 50K runners as they came out of Tennessee Valley as well. This would be a 1.5 mile incline in which we gained almost 700 feet.  As with all the huge hills in the 2nd half of the race, I chose to power walk this section with a few burst of running.  Keep in mind that my "bursts" of running at this point were no faster than 11:00 pace, while that walking was probably closer to 16:00. Miles 42 & 43 took me a combined 31:46, brutally slow and seriously chewing into my goal time.  The good thing was that even though I was moving slow and power walking, I was gaining ground on green jacket even though he appeared to be running.  I was also passing numerous 50K runners.  While this meant nothing in the standings, it was huge psychologically to me. 

Eventually I passed green jacket guy on a downhill section and never looked over at him.  I also caught back up with Larissa and Rick and decided to hang with them for the company on the way in. Turns out they were from the area and actually did their "Thursday" runs on the course, how nice. That reminds me, I need to send Rick a picture of the pumpjacks I get to see on my daily training runs.  Equally beautiful......if you own them.   The section we were on now was predominantly downhilll and to be honest, this was the most painful section of the entire run.  Each step started with a jar to the knees, up the quads and ended with the lower back and ribs.  How in the world could running downhill hurt so bad?  It reminded me of a conversation on the shuttle early in morning in with prior year runner.  He had discussed the very issue and how he incorrectly assumed the final downhill would be nice.  Mile 48.4 - 50.4 dropped just under 800 feet and it was not easy, although I preferred that over climbing. 

The last mile was pretty flat, most of it on pavement and I found that I had a little left in the tank once the course flattened out.  I brought home the last mile pretty strong and even passed one more 50 miler along the way.  I had no intentions of leaving Larissa and Rick behind in doing so, but I had to pee so bad I wanted to hurry and get it over with.  Had it not been so close to the end I would have just stopped on the side of the road, but green jacket wasn't far back and I wasn't about to give up a position in the standings for that reason. 

I finished in 10:15:40, 79th overall and 12th in my age group, 40-49.  It wasn't 9, 9.5 or even 10, but I was pretty damned thrilled that I had finished.  My biggest concern coming in was that I would fall flat on my face and embarrass myself with a poor showing.  I now had a 50 under my belt and in fact a qualifying time for entry into Western States 100.  What a great experience that was.  Exactly what I was hoping for in that sense.  I learned more about myself and what I capable of doing, but more so it taught me that I have a lot of room for improvement.  To see the elite athletes run the course in such incredible time was both amazing and humbling.  I had no thoughts of it as I sat around at the finish line, but in the days since I have made up my mind that I will go back for 2011 to give it one more shot, goal..........sub 9:00.  And the beauty of it is that my wife Gina has agreed to go with me next year.  How nice it will be to have her at the finish line the niext time around.  After all, I couldn't do any of this without her support.

A few interesting statistics from the race:

               Total distance: 51.24 miles, avg pace 12:01(5mph)

               Elevation gain per Garmin 15,759 ft, descent 15,537 ft

               Fastest mile:  7:32 (mile 5)

               Slowest mile:  21:31 (mile 33)

               Estimated calories burned:  5,702

               Approx days until I get my revenge: 357

Men's podium - Dave Mackey (3rd), Geoff Roes(2nd) and Miguel Heras(1st)









 

Women's podium - Anna Frost (1st), Lizzy Hawker (2nd) and Kami Semick (3rd)



If the Shoe Fits........

Well, you know how the saying goes. Let me explain how the race went. The last of 3 60K's in the Capt'n Karl's Endurance Race series took place at Muleshoe Bend Recreation area just off of Lake Travis a few miles west of Austin, TX on Saturday night. I had finished 5th and 3rd respectively in the first two and stood in 2nd place overall by just over 3 minutes. First place overall was out of the question as that runner, Josh Beckham, had a lead of about 77 minutes. The overall placement would be determined based on combined time from all three races.

Going back to the first two races, I had gone out too fast to start and faded quite a bit in each to the point where finishing was certainly in question. I knew I knew I would have to run a pretty smart race if I wanted to keep 2nd place. And if the fact that I knew it wasn't enough, I had my 5yr old daughter giving me advice two weeks out. She had just watched the story of the tortoise and the hare and completely unsolicited, she told me that I needed to run my next race "slow and steady". While I thought it was quite cute, it was the phrase I would repeat several times early in the race while picturing her telling me "remember Dad, sloooow and steaaady" in a drawn out manner.

Unlike the previous two races, I made the 300 mile trip the day of the race for the 7:00 p.m. start. Getting there just past 4:00 gave me plenty of time to set up my "camp" near the start/finish area and relax a bit before the race. While it was still pretty warm outside, about 84, it was about 15-18 degrees cooler than the last start and it appeared that it would drop into the 70's by 11:00. Quite balmy by hill country summer standards.  That was a much welcomed change. Combined with the fact that the Race Director's email said the course was "not all that difficult" and "slightly rolling on a mountain bike trail that is mostly smooth" made me think this would be the sub 6 hour race. I opted to ignore the "still enough rocks and roots to dissuade you from dragging your feet".

Before the race got started I saw the two guys behind me in the standings, but never looked for Josh as he wasn't even a consideration to me. My only hope of finishing #1 overall would be for him to fail miserably and DNF. A quick runners meeting, standard comments on paying attention to signs, glow sticks, watching out for snakes and proper hydration and then we were off and running.

The first lap would include a .84 out and back to get the race to a full 60K. After that, 4 loops of 9.09 miles. Just after the making the turn on the out and back Joe, the Race Director, yelled at me "You're it, Josh didn't make it". D'oh, seriously?  I later found out that his wife had just gave birth to a child so he skipped the race. No pressure, but here was my chance to steal 1st place overall. Because of the way the out and back was designed, I would count that I was in 9th place of the 60K runners. A bunch of 30K runners ahead that only had to do 1/2 of the out and back. I'm assuming it was all of them, about 80. And of course, among the 8 60K runners ahead of me were #'s 2 and 3, Derek and Scott. We had finished 3, 4, 5 respectively at the Falls.

Unlike the last race, I didn't stress about being behind anyone this time. I just reminded myself that this was a 37 mile run and that I didn't matter if I lead 36 miles or 1 mile. All that mattered was where I finished. Slow and steady, slow and steady.  We had all had our struggles in the prior races and I was banking on similar results.

I took my time and didn't look far ahead often. Even when I did, I couldn't see much other than the runners just ahead of me as we ran in some pretty thick wooded areas with a lot of hills and brush. It seemed I could never see much more than 20-25 yards ahead at most, sometimes less. It wasn't long into the race that I caught up with the tail end of the 30K runners. Passing them one at a time was not much of a problem as most of them pulled over when they heard me behind them. Every once in a while I could see that I was passing a 60K runner, but it was difficult to tell even though we were identified by the color of the #'s on our race bibs. Black for 60K, red for 30K.

The loop had 3 aid stations. The fully stocked and manned station at the start/finish, one at 3.00 miles out with water only and then the 3rd at 6.55 miles that would be manned and fully stocked. I had made the decision to carry two Nathan handhelds to avoid frequent stops at the stations. The plan was to stop at the finishline only. If I stopped anywhere esle something went wrong.

It seemed like forever, but eventually the first aid station appeared and while I ran right by, there were a couple of people already stopped and refueling. I felt pretty good and had plenty of liquid. The temperature wasn't bad at all and I could tell early that hydration wouldn't be a problem at all. That said, I did pop and S Cap just before the start and planned on taking one about every hour.

Between the 1st and 3nd aid station there was some extremely gnarly rock sections that included some large buried jagged rocks, roots and a lot of trees. The course overall was pretty technical with a lot of switchbacks and tight sections between trees and low hanging branches.  This particular section was almost impossible to run while we still had daylight available. I immediately thought this was going to be treacherous in the dark. And not only that, but without the worn dirt trail, it was difficult to tell where the trail actually was. That meant looking down at foot placement and then looking around for "confidence markers" which was the neon colored tape hanging from the trees every so often. In loops 2-4 it would be a little easier because you could see the glow sticks that had been randomly placed on the ground.  At that point it was a matter of going from glow stick to glow stick.

Once past the difficult section of rock, the course seemed to open up a bit with some of that "mostly smooth trail". Due to the rain from the night before there was a little mud, but not bad. The second aid station came and went and again as I ran by, there were a couple of runners fueling. I still had plenty of Gatorade in my bottles and didn't even hesitate to keep going. Another 2.5 miles and I would have one loop knocked out. I wondered how the guys up front were doing.

The loop ended with a very short section that ran into the start/finish area on the same trail as those coming back out. By the time I got to that section it was already dark and I my headlamp was on. It was really a cool sight as it was dark and then just as you came ove a hill you could see the camp area with all of the lights for the aid station. As I was coming in a few runners passed me going the other direction. Not sure why, but I never even looked at them. I think I was trying to stick to my plan of slow and steady and not worry about who was ahead of me.

A quick run across the timing matts, around the cone and right to the Gatorade jugs. A split of 1:29:38 for the first 9.93 miles (1:24:12 for the 9.09 actual loop). Unbeknownst to me, I was about 7 minutes behind the leader at this point, Derek. I asked for Heed, but they didn't have it mixed yet. It would have to be Gatorade again. No problem, a quick refill with ice and Gatorade by the volunteers while I squeezed a gel into my mouth and then I was on my way out. A very efficient and short stop.

Loop 2 was pretty uneventful other than passing Scott and another runner at the first aid station. I had been tailing them pretty much for the 3 miles since leaving the start/finish area where they had gone out just before me. I was not right on them. but not far behind at all. Again, the 2 bottle system worked as they both stopped and I ran right by without so much as looking in their direction.

Loop 2 took me 1:32:08, about 8 minutes slower than the first one. While I tried to remind myself of staying slow and steady, I was a bit concerned that I wasn't feeling quite as good as I wished I had and I wasn't seeing any 60K runners that I knew of out there. As I pulled in to the start/finish area for he 2nd time, I unscrewed the caps on my bottles and dumped out what was in them coming into the chute. I crossed the matts and handed off the bottles again to be re-filled. I grabbed a protein brownie from my gear bag, bottles from the volunteers, Heed this time, and I was back out onto the trail, but not before asking how far I was behind Derek. About 10 minutes was the response. Turns out, it was actually 11, but close enough. Not what I wanted to hear, but still, slow and steady and he would come back to me at some point right?

Actually I was starting to doubt the "slow and steady" approach, but honestly don't know if I could have run much faster without totally draining myself. At this point I was 19.02 miles into it and had just over 18 to go. Still a long way and a lot of time to catch up. I told myself to continue to run my race. Be disciplined, stick to the plan.

Not far into the 3rd loop I got my first wake-up call, I hit the ground. I was trying to split a tree and failed to pick my feet up high enough in doing so. I hit the ground with a pretty hard thud and then there I was with the familiar feeling. Soaking with sweat and now rolled in dirt, not to mention the dirt on my water bottles as well as in my mouth. Nice! It was as if I took a leap while running and someone grabbed my feet out from under me.  I looked at my Garmin at that point to see that it happened at 19.96 miles. No idea why I even cared, but apparently it was important enough to look. Just about a mile and a quarter later I would get to look again because there was another crash. This time I completely crushed one of my water bottles at 21.15 miles. This was getting ridiculous I thought. Now, I was really irritated, but not surprised. I had clipped several rocks up to that point and had almost fell several times.  I managed to stay upright for the rest of the third loop and I came in at 1:48:36, slow.

Coming in from the 3rd loop I knew I had some ground to make up, just how much was the question.  I felt good enough to consider an attack for the last 9 miles and was considering either one or no water bottle for the last loop.  I had an iPod available and knew that I would pick that up for sure.  With majority of 30K runners off of the course, it would be pretty thin out there and plus I wanted something to give me a little life.  I was also going to slam a Red Bull, but totally forgot it once I got into the aid station.

I was told that I was in 3rd place and about 17 minutes out of 1st place, maybe 12 behind 2nd.  Looking back at the splits, it was actually 14:28 behind the leader. I headed out with one water bottle and a huge challenge ahead of me, but feeling somewhat optimistic that with a decent run and maybe some luck I could gain enough ground to make it interesting. 

Some of the early parts of the loop had some decent downhill sections in the wooded area and I was moving at a pretty good clip at times.  The music pumping in my ears in the dark of night was pretty cool and the rush I was getting by flying recklessly downhill and in between trees had my adrenaline pumping.  I kept hearing Brad's comments to me at the aid station "leave it all out on the course".  Slow and steady had been discarded.  At the same time I knew there was no way I could hold that pace for 9 miles.  I was just going to give it hell and see what happened.

With the faster pace came risk and I remember thinking if I fell it was not going to feel good. Well, it wasn't exactly Nostradamus, but it wasn't long before I clipped a rock and sent down pretty hard.  The jolt to the body was rough, but not injuries.  I was up and back at it in a matter of seconds with a relatively decent pace. 

As I progressed through the loop I could see headlamps moving ahead of me.  While I was pretty certain it wasn't either of the two 60K runners, I thought to myself  "you never know" and continued to chase them down.  Each time I caught one of the runners a disappointing feeling would come over me as I realized I was lapping a runner and not actually catching 1st or 2nd place.  That was okay, I was still running and each time I saw a light I had a burst of energy.  It was like when you're out training on the road and you see another runner and your pace seems to pick up a bit.  Not necessarily intentionally, but it just happens. 

Somewhere in the first half of the loop I would go down for the last time.  I had caught a glimpse of a runner and here came that energy again. I was gaining ground through a fairly technical section in the trees I just before I approached her that moment of whiplash and then thud to the ground.  It was another lapped runner and I felt quite stupid and I was at her heels.  She turned to see what had just happened and as I lay there looking at the ground I said "I'm fine, go ahead" and waved at her to keep moving.  She was being courteous to check on me and I was just embarrassed at disheartened at that point.   I popped back up and tried to get back after it, but I think at that point I knew it wasn't to be.  I had needed to run a perfect 4th loop and I had two things working against me.  One, I couldn't stay on my feet and two, I was running about 1-2 minutes per mile slower than I needed.  My focus switched from predator to survival about then.  I decided to finish respectably and take 3rd place like a man.  First for the night and overall were lost earlier in the race when I chose "too damn slow and steady" for my strategy.

As I approached the last mile of the course I could feel a little life back in me and I picked up the pace for the last time.  Soon the hill just before the finish line was under me and then the lights of the tents were visible.  Such a great view in the middle of the night.

Crossing the finish matt was once again the unceremonious moment.  I was handed an assortment of items by one of the volunteers that turned out to be a medal, two framed pictures, one for the night's placement and one for the series overall as well as a Team Traverse belt buckle for completing all 3 60k's.  6:33:01 was my time and as it turned out, I finished 2nd place for the night, not 3rd as I had been told and 2nd place overall.

I finished 8:30 out of 1st place overall with a total time of 19:20:01, but I couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed with myself.  With Josh out that night I had the opportunity to take 1st and I let it get away.  However, Derek ran an fantastic race.  As he had previously, he went out fast and he finished strong.  Either way, 1st place wasn't meant to be mine for this series. Second place seems to be more my speed and with that being said, I was happy with the Shoe and the whole series, it seems to fit me just fine.  Just seven short weeks earlier I had never run a trail race and now I've have 3 60k's under my belt with some respectable finishes.  Gives me a lot to look forward as I pursue my goals in the ultra world.  And by the way, I'm not abandoning the slow and steady approach as I did feel much better at the end and never thought DNF was a consideration.  I just need to work on making my "slow" as a little faster.

Thanks for your support and for stopping by to read this mad rambling.