Life is too busy- a slew of race reports

Somewhere in the past two years, going from two kids to four, things have changed for me.  I have much less free time to spend on running-related but not running activities (blogging, reading blogs, reading iRF, etc).  Much like I did in November, I want to pound out a quick rehash of my recent races, then I’ll do a post dedicated to the Barkley.  After that, this blog may go somewhat dormant as I’m giving myself permission to stop blogging and writing reports unless I really want to.  Life is too busy otherwise.

TNF San Francisco 50 miler

Ok- December, I ran The North Face San Fran Championship 50 mile.  Justin came with me as his first 50, and we had a blast touring SF for 3 days.  The weather was terrible, as a huge storm system had dumped up to 8 inches of rain the past few days and 2-3 inches mid-race.  The day before the race, Justin and I heard it was cancelled, so were actually excited when we later learned it was just a re-route.  The race was a bit of a letdown for me- though I felt trained and prepared, and felt find during the race, I just couldn’t go fast.  Uphills were particularly slow, flats were flat, but downhills were still a blast.  I’m a mudder, so love flying down slippy, sloppy trails.  Some of TNF ones were nutso muddy, like both trips to Muir beach and the final descent into Tennessee Valley.  I loved it, absolutely loved it- rain, mud, wind.  Plus, I also found myself in the midst of the woman’s race and enjoyed watching that develop, running with Maude for a while, then a long time with Emilie, then being passed by Steph and finally Caitlin before holding off the 5th place woman.  I kept hoping I would photobomb iRF twitter pictures of the lead women, but it never happened.  And I’ll admit I actually spent an hour mid-race trying to figure out what the word was for getting 5-chicked (Quin-chicked?).  The good news about ultras is that you have many hours mid-race to come to terms with bad races, and I quickly found my peace and just enjoyed the day as it came to me.  Goods- had a fun time running in the muddiest race of my life (had a few fall and slides!), loved touring SF, met some neat people, ate tons of amazing food, and enjoyed watching Justin finish his first 50 mile ultra.  Bads- ran terrible (probably my worst not-sick, not-injured race performance wise ever), only had a few scenic vistas during the race on account of fog/rain, didn’t like the reroute with multiple races (crowding on trail), wished the race was more singletrack and less dirt road.

(b&w photo courtesy of San Fran Running Company)

Harbison 50k

Missed Dan Hartley’s great race last year due to a nasty flu, so I wanted to make it this year.  It was not a focus race by any means, but I still had lofty goals of a win and sub-4 (CR was 4:10).  Drove down to Columbia and it was COLD- 25 deg.  I survived 8 years in Utah with no insulated underwear, but a South Carolina race almost killed me and my thin green shorts.  Anyhoo, we started pretty fast, with Bryce, a law student in New England, leading the pack.  I passed him around mile 3 as I wanted to up the pace and break up the lead pack.  The terrain of the 2-loop course reminded me of a mix of Croft State Park and Issaqueenah forest- almost all singletrack, lots of tight turns, numerous small ups and downs, and miles of trails packed into a small area.  I loved it- such a fabulous course, well marked, and good aid stations every 30-45 min.  Runner extraordinaire Shaun Pope flew by at the first aid station and very slowly pulled away.  I last saw him during the infamous Spiderwoman section of the course with a 90 second lead.  I had taken a long rest after San Fran but was generally happy with how my legs felt, not straining to run sub-7 miles.  I went through loop 1 just under 2 hrs, right on schedule, with everyone telling me Shaun was always “2 minutes ahead.”  I never saw him, though I did start seeing someone behind me on some of the twisty portions.  I continued pushing hard, hoping to catch Shaun but also striving for the sub-4 hr.  I started to get worried the end would never come, but it finally appeared in 3:58:02, a new 50k PR (25 min faster than old race PR, and 8 min faster than my 50k split at Umstead 100 last year).  Shaun won it in 3:47, so I wasn’t close to him, though 2 other guys finished right behind me.  4 guys well under CR- not too shabby.  Overall a great race, dead on 31 miles, with 3100 ft climb.  I was satisfied and had a fun time, including at the post-race BBQ.

Run Downtown 5k

I did a separate post on this one.  Took a big chunk off my 5k PR with only ultrarunning training (no speedwork).  Pretty happy here to set a 16:01 PR and beat most the high school kids. 

Expedition Paris Mtn trail race

Very nice 10-mile trail race on my familiar stomping ground of Paris Mtn, though this one was unique by being the only race to go over Hiker-only Brissy Ridge.  Had a very fun day running with my friends and ended up with the win. 

Black Mountain Marathon

I wasn’t selected in the Mt Mitchell Challenge, so entered the Black Mountain marathon instead.  It probably worked out better for my race schedule, anyways.  This is a great race- you run a few miles on road out of Black Mountain, then run miles of singletrack and jeep road to the turnaround at the Blue Ridge Parkway near Mt Mitchell, before descending on mainly the same route.  The weather was great Barkley training- 37 deg and very rainy at the start.  I purposefully overdressed in my Smartwool gear to see if it would keep me warm, and it more than did its job.  Right from the start, Ben Hall (young buck who coaches college track), David Workman (against whom I’ve had a number of enjoyable, close races), and I pulled away.  The road miles went quickly, then we hit the lovely singletrack.  Dave Mackey (running the Challenge, not the marathon) flew by us at mile 4, pulling Ben with him.  Dave said his stomach was hurting and fell back.  I kept Dave and Ben in sight for a few miles, but then was alone except at the occasional aid station.  The rain somewhat stopped and I was treated to several beautiful vistas of the mountains.  What a pretty area.  My legs were a bit sluggish, and I found the course very muddy.  It wasn’t a slippery mud, but rather a wet sponge, “sink in and lose all momentum” mud.  Combine that with a bit of a low patch plus discovering that the 15 miles of the Toll Road were sometimes much, much more technical than I expected, and I felt I was crawling.  The last mile to the turnaround was very snowy and icy, and I finally saw Ben coming back with about a 5 minute lead. 

After my quick aid station refill, I found a very steady stream of runners almost right behind me.  I would have my work cut out for me just to hold onto second place.  Energized, I flew down Toll Road kamikaze-style.  Hundreds of runners were coming up the trail on the right side (my left side), restricting me from choosing the best route down.  Instead, I just stuck to my right side, no matter how rocky, muddy, off-camber, or icy it was.  I hardly had time to blink for fear of pulling a superman.  It absolutely amazes me that the human mind and body are so capable of running so fast down a technical trail without falling every minute.  Yet I never once fell.  I will admit that it was perhaps my most focused, one-with-the-trail, kamikaze run ever down technical terrain.  After a few miles, the rocks gave way to smoother dirt and I strided out, hoping to see Ben.  I received dozens of reports that he was anywhere from 200 yards to 4 minutes ahead, with no consistency.  Mile 22 is a screamer of a downhill, half on dirt road, then half on painful paved road, dropping almost 900 ft.  The terrain then flattened out a bit and offered long sightlines as we ran some neighborhood roads.  No one ahead of me, no one behind.  Bummer.  Finally reached the finishing area and could see Ben 90 seconds ahead as he looped the lake.  I finished in second place in 3:18, 5 minutes up on third place.  I guess that means I had the fastest descent, but it wasn’t enough to make up for my poor climb.  I still had a very fun time and want to do the full Challenge soon.  This was another fantastic race, with about 3000 ft climbing.  I enjoyed the post-race food with Ben, Dave, and others, then Dave drove me back to my car.

One note- I have to thank the people of Black Mountain, NC.  When I returned to my car, which was parallel parked on the side of a busy road, I found I had left the trunk wide open before the race.  All my gear, wallet, and even car keys were in plain sight in the trunk, but nothing had been touched.  Thanks for not stealing my car or money- good people in that town.

Chuckanut 50k

I ran Chuckanut because I needed to use some Southwest Airlines miles and I wanted a well-known, well-respected race.  Although it was only 2 weeks before Barkley, I figured a fast 50k wouldn’t hurt me much.  Unfortunately, I became quite sick 2 weeks before the race, with both my training and health suffering quite dramatically.  I accordingly tempered my expectations and decided to run a bit more conservatively and just have fun.  Utah buddy David Nelson lives near Seattle and was running the race, so generously hosted me for the weekend, with us staying at his very friendly Aunt and Uncle’s house in Seattle and driving up Sat morning.  The race was again wet (a common theme this year for me), with rain before hand but only a little during the race.  I was proud to sport my new Team Pearl Izumi gear at the starting line (did I mention I’m on Team PI now?  I own tons of their gear and shoes and love all of it)  The first 10k is on gravel bike trail and I closely monitored my watch to not start out too fast (goal was no faster than 6:30 pace, with my actual flat pace being about 6:25- close enough.  I enjoyed conversing a bit with Tyler on this stretch, learning he was running his first ultra.  I think I was 17th or so place when we finally got off the boring gravel and onto the lush, muddy singletrack. 

(all Chuckanut photos courtesy of Glenn Tachiyama)

The singletrack climb and descent were enjoyable, though we soon ended up on a yet another dirt road with a long climb.  It was a bit of a grinder but just gradual enough that you had to run it.  At last we reached the famed technical singletrack of the Chuckanut Ridge… and my glasses promptly and completely fogged up.  I’ve been wearing my glasses almost exclusively since my eye infection last year, and a case of pink-eye two days before the race ensured I would be in glasses yet again.  Traversing the wet rocks and roots of the ridge were rather difficult with the impaired vision, though I did pause to wipe them several times, earning only momentary reprive from the handicap.  Just as the ridge ended, they de-fogged.  Figures.  But mother nature was also picky with her gifts of sight, as all the famous lookout viewpoints showed only white fog on this day.

One of the many motivational signs along the well-marked course

The middle miles passed quickly if fairly uneventfully, and I was looking forward to the famed climb of Chinscraper.  It was a nice little jaunt up, with a few “climbing on all fours” sections that were, again, good Barkley training.  But it ended quickly and we started down the trails and roads back to the bike path.

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The climb up Chinscraper

I figured my conservative pace and remaining leg speed might yield a few roadk ill on the bike path, and I was not disappointed.  4 miles in 27 minutes resulted in 2 victims, then one more who was walking just a mile before the finish.  I didn’t have any real goals on account of being sick, but figured I would finish 4:15-4:30, and indeed crossed the line in 4:20:34 and 20th spot.  It wasn’t the race I had planned on when I signed up, but I took what my body gave me and was satisfied.  The winning times were impressive for both men and women, with CR falling all around (Jodee Adams-Moore was especially impressive, torching Ellie Greenwoods CR by oer 8 min).  I was pretty cold afterwards, especially as the rain started really coming down, so I quickly dressed and huddled under a tent eating food until David finished with a smile on his face.  We spent a while socializing, then headed back to Seattle. 

This is another well-run race, with great organization, a beautiful location, and lots of markings and cute motivational signs.  I know the long-timers like the course, but I would modify it to cut out all the gravel road given my druthers.  But, it’s historic and the bike path adds an interesting twist and mental challenge that I enjoyed.  A great weekend at a fun race with a good host (thanks again, David).

I’ll end this long diatribe with one final note.  On my third and final plane flight home last Sunday night, I received a text message from none other than Lazarus Lake himself, RD of the Barkley Marathons.  Apparently someone else had dropped out of the Barkley and I was top of the wait list, so he inquired if I still wanted to run.  I replied in the affirmative and thought it a great way to end the trip.  Rather than Barkley fear, though, I felt only excitement.  But I’ll have to save that tale for my next blog post, the Barkley race report.

6 months of running, plus looking forward to 2013

I doubt I have any blog readers left, as I’ve basically written once in the past 6 months.  Not that a lot hasn’t happened.  I’ve just had other priorities and haven’t been able to make the time to write.  But, I wanted to put a few pictures, a few memories, and a bit looking forward to 2013.  So this might be a bit long, primarily heavy in pictures. It includes Hardrock pacing and race reports for Iron Mountain 50, StumpJump 50k, and Shut In Ridge Run, amongst other things.

Last I wrote, I had run Logan Peak in June. I spent the next few weeks with family, including a great week in Utah where I wore out the trails and twice summited Mt. Timpanogos.

Hardrock 100 pacing

At the end of my Rocky Mountain vacation, I headed to Hardrock 100 to pace Tim Adams, a Brit who I had never met before. Cody and Joe came, too.  I had never been to Hardrock before but it is truly a special race and I loved the atmosphere.  And the San Juan's are beautiful, impressive mountains, especially when you know you will be running in them. I paced Tim, who did an excellent write up in a UK ultra magazine you can find here.  My thoughts on Hardrock, in no particular order:

The San Juan's are stunning. I paced 27 miles from Grouse Gulch to Maggie’s Gulch in 12 hours.  We summited Handies Peak just as the sun rose to amazing vistas. Tim is hardcore- he struggled with huge blisters the whole time but never talked of quitting. Sherman aid station is the best I have ever seen- I ate bacon, two types of cobbler, breakfast burrito, pie, popsicles, all attended by eager volunteers. Someone even decked the forest service bathroom with a fancy display, doilies, flowers, scented candles, and nice TP. The stretch from Sherman to Pole Creek seemed far too long and took forever. Didn’t really enjoy that part. I never had any problems with course markings. Tim jumped in a mud pit and pulled out a fawn that was stuck, a once in a lifetime encounter. I want to see Virginius, Oscar’s, Grant Swamp pass and the rest of the race. I will race this some point, but will wait till I live back in the Rockies. Spending a weekend at Hardrock with Cody and Joe is something I will never forget.

Tim on top of Handies

Looking back at Handies

Climbing out of Sherman, one of my favorite sections

 

The never ending path to Pole Creek

 

 

The mud pit and the saved fawn

 

Late Summer and Fall

After returning home, I ran a local trail marathon at Croft State Park and enjoyed it. It was typically hot and humid, plus very muddy due to several days of rain, and I had a blast squishing through the mud.  The race was a few miles short, but still a good workout. I was peaked and ready to travel to Oregon for Waldo 100k in August but bailed due to threats of forest fire, something I still regret.  I had a great shot to qualify for Western and just DNS’ed instead.  Moral of the story- always travel to races so you don’t have regrets. I took out my frustrations by registering for Iron Mountain 50 mile in Virginia.  I had run the 30 mile race in 2010 and loved it, and knew several running friends (Brad Hinton and Troy Shellhamer) would be there.  Unfortunately, the race was a bit blah for me- I never felt any spunk and my legs were tired all day from too much training. I hung with the lead pack for 29 miles, then entered a very dark place and walked most of the next 5+ miles. I finally came around at mile 40 and enjoyed the last 10 miles, finishing in 3rd place, about 30 min slower than my goal. I always enjoy this challenging but low key race, but prefer the 30 mile as the 50 has too much gravel road and forgettable trails in the middle.

The rest of the summer/fall was spent training, running to the Bench, hiking and running at Great Smoky Mtn Natl Park, and winning a local trail night 5k. The 5k was a blast, but running fast on technical trails at night is exhilarating and a bit crazy.  All my other night runs have been at the end of ultras, so moving a ton slower.

Leaf strewn autumn colors on the way to the Bench

Running and hiking with the kids in the Smokies

StumpJump 50k

I was excited for the Rock/Creek StumpJump 50k. It has a great reputation and was stacked with competition, including newly-crowned UROC champ Max King as well probably 10 other sponsored athletes.  I was eager to again test myself against some of the best in the country at the Meat Grinder of the East, with hopes of a top 5 or podium finish.  The day dawned unexpectedly rainy but did nothing to dampen my spirits.  The starting line was quite the spectacle as a helicopter hovered overhead shooting video, memorializing one of the biggest 50k’s in the country.  An initial pack of 10 runners blazed along the muddy, wet singletrack.  I slowed briefly and then promptly made a wrong turn around mile 2, losing about 30 seconds to the leaders.  This proved to be the most fortuitous wrong turn of my life as it allowed the lead group to get out of site on the twisting trail.  After the wrong turn, I found myself behind Coloradoan Duncan Callahan, who was taking a somewhat more reasonable pace that I found welcome after the initial dash.  Content to save my energy, Duncan and I chatted for a while as we passed the first aid station.  It was Duncan’s first run in the east and allowed me to reminisce about how accustomed I had become to the nuances of the Appalachian singletrack, with an abundance of roots, mossy rocks, small climbs, and leaves.  8 miles into the race, I wished Duncan well and pulled ahead, eager to make up time on the lead pack and pick my way into the top 3.

Typical course scenery (photo courtesy of RockCreek website)

I reached the mile 10 aid station and was joined by a RC videographer, impressively running with a handheld camera.  I queried the time since the last runner and was told he had a two minute lead.  I then asked how far I was behind the lead pack of Max, et al.  The videographer looked at me in surprise and said, “You mean you don’t know they went off course? You’re in second place. The race is wide open”  Apparently the leaders ran past a volunteer and went several miles down the wrong trail shortly after I lost them.  This surprised me but I knew wouldn’t change the way I was racing.  Give it your all, no matter what else happens, and you’ll finish where you were supposed to.  I’ll admit I started looking behind me every now and then, expecting to see Max catch me from behind.  I also confused the RockCreek guy providing online updates, as he didn’t know my name and took to calling me the Mystery Man.  The next 2 hours were a solo run, though, and I pushed hard on the wet, slick singletrack.  I finally reached the infamous Rock Garden at mile 17 and slowed a bit, not wanting to risk injury.

Thumbs up (photo courtesy of RockCreek website)

I’ll admit that, while hard, the rock garden was shorter and less difficult than I had anticipated, although strangely dark due to very thick foliage and cloud cover.  Shortly thereafter, I again saw the videographer and asked how far behind Max was, to which he replied that most of the runners had DNF’ed (I would later find out they went 7 miles off course and were not eager to pass 400 runners on technical singletrack).  Within a few minutes, I caught the leader at mile 18 aid station and quickly pulled away.  The remainder of the race was a mix of excitement, fear, pain, and utter exhaustion.  The race has some nasty uphills that guarantee appropriate suffering in the last few miles.  Nevertheless, I won the race and cheered in Duncan a few minutes later.  My 4:27 time was slower than expected, although similar to my winning time at the easier SweetH20 50k.  I could imagine taking 15 or 20 minutes off that time given a longer taper and better (i.e. dry) conditions, but I can’t fathom running David Riddle’s 3:50 from 2011.

  Rock/Creek mid-race tweets (in reverse chronological order)

I have to give full props to the StumpJump RD and entire race crew.  It is one of the best races I’ve ever seen- well organized, competitive, and has 31 miles of absolutely sweet, technical singletrack with great views (a welcome relief from the many miles of gravel road found in some races).  The trophy is the heaviest one I’ve ever won (there’s even a video about it’s making- see below) and they also give a ton of gear to podium placers.  The race also mailed me a copy of the newspaper that had the race photos and sent me a thank you note, neither of which have ever happened before.  If you ever get the chance, run the StumpJump.

November/December

I have been trying to run all the races in the SE, not wanting to repeat any.  That I made an exception for the Shut In Ridge Run says something about the quality of this race, as does the fact the race is in it’s third decade.  It’s normally about 18 miles and finishes almost 3000 ft higher than it starts.  It’s in Asheville so you know it’s competitive, and you’re doing well if you can beat your road marathon time.

The Blue Ridge parkway that runs alongside the race was closed, so Justin volunteered to come up and shuttle my car to the top.  The road closure also resulted in the finish line moving an extra 1.1 mile away, and (unbeknownst to me) some of the aid stations closing.  The weather was cool and clear, though I quickly discovered that the outer bands of Hurricane Sandy had blown all the leaves off the trees earlier that week.  Race veterans confirmed this was the leafiest year ever, with much of the trail having 4-6 inches of fresh leaves completely obscuring the tripping hazards beneath.  Crazy indeed.  I ran a 2:49 in 2010 and felt I could do 2:40 this year, but that meant a fast start.  My 5:49 first mile found me in third place, though I drifted between third to sixth for a while, with much of the passing happening as we took turns falling.  Similar to StumpJump, this race is almost all sweet, technical singletrack which adds to the enjoyment of seeing the brilliant fall colors.  I had just passed someone who broke his toe during a fall when I arrived at an aid station to find nothing set up.  No cars, nothing.  I realized I was in a bit of a predicament and was glad for my last minute decision to carry a bottle, even if it was only 1/3 full and held 1 gu  I ended up nursing that bottle through 90 minutes of race.  One of the lead runners hadn’t brought any water, and I passed him as he slowly walked a downhill at mile 13, completely bonked, moving me into 3rd place.  I enjoyed the steep final climb and descent on Mt Pisgah as much as anyone (which is to say, not at all), passing the old finish line at 2:40:50, right where I wanted.  The official finish line was 7 minutes away and I was thankful I didn’t have to hold off any hard-charging runners from behind.  After talking to some of the locals like Scott Williams and eating the food at the finish line, Justin and I drove home just in time for me to miss our scheduled family photo shoot. I spent the rest of November getting ready for the North Face 50 mile Championship in San Fran… which will get it’s own post.

2012 Year in Review and a Look Ahead

To be honest, I have mixed feelings about 2012.  For no reason in particular, I don’t felt it was quite as good as 2011.  I ran the most miles ever and was relatively injury free, both positives.  I won 7 races ranging in distance from 1 mile to 50k and set 5 PR’s, including 4 in one race at a relatively-satisfying Umstead 100.  Winning StumpJump was an unexpected highlight.  But for some reason, I think I left a bit on the table.  Not racing Waldo was definitely a mistake, and I had a number of races where my performance range from a bit subpar (Uwharrie, Iron Mountain) to downright abysmal (TNF 50). 

For 2013, I expect myself to improve.  I plan to keep mileage about the same but want to increase the number of Big Workouts (especially hill work), which I feel decreased over the last few years.  Beyond that, I want to keep racing, running, and having fun. 

Planned races:

January- Harbison 50k

February- Mt. Mitchell Challenge or marathon

March- Probably Chuckanut 50k, if I get in the lottery

April- The Barkley Marathons, if I get in from the wait list (I’m number 11).  Yes, this is THE Barkley and is completely nuts.  I plan to train accordingly.  For the record, I never would have imagined running this race even a few months ago and now I find myself strangely excited.  If I don’t get in the Barkley, I’ll do Promise Land 50k

May- recover, or go Massanutten 100 (wait listed) if I didn’t do Barkley

June- nada

July- White River 50 (yup, 2 trips to Seattle for races)

August- maybe Laurel Valley 35, maybe nothing

End of year- plan to do TNF Atlanta 50, then Pinhoti 100, the Lookout Mtn 50.  Might do Georgia Jewel 100 or Grindstone 100 instead of Pinhoti

Should be fun.  Hope to see you all on the trails.  Any I’d be remiss to not give a big, end-of-the-year thanks to my wife and kids for supporting me.  I love you guys!

The Generosity of a Runner (aka Dale is awesome, aka Logan Peak race report)

I’ve been a complete slacker in my blogging ever since Umstead in March.  Life has been busy- between a wife, 3 kids, another on the way, a mortgage, full-time job, running, and church, I haven’t had time to both run and write about running.  Not that there hasn’t been a lot to write about- pacing for 12 hours at Hardrock, DNS at Waldo, 3^rd place finishes at Iron Mountain 50 and Shut In Ridge Run, and especially winning the StumpJump 50k where Max King was entered (not every day you can say that).  But, I haven’t wanted to write about any of those until I first told the story of Logan Peak Run.  But the story isn’t about the race itself; instead, it’s about something better- the goodness and generosity of people, especially runners.

Logan Peak Run in 2008 was my first ultramarathon, and I ran it 3 years in a row while I lived in Logan, winning twice.  It’s a great race on a beautiful course and is a wonderful opportunity to run hard with my friends, though I never expected to again run the race after moving to South Carolina in 2010.  But again, this story isn’t about the race.

Marci and the kids were flying to Idaho to see her family in early June, with me joining a few weeks later.  I soon realized that I would be flying into Salt Lake the day of the Logan Peak run.  I rearranged my schedule just so I could arrive a day earlier, enabling me to see my Logan friends (Cody, Joe, et al) and run the race.  It would be a grand homecoming reunion.

I awoke early that  Friday morning in South Carolina, eager to fly to Utah to see my family and friends.  However, I received a message from Southwest Airlines during my drive that my flight had been cancelled.  Knowing there were flights later in the day but finding that the Southwest 1-800 number had a 2 hour hold time (!), I continued to the airport.  I arrived to chaos.  Apparently a glitch at the Chicago airport the evening before had prevented almost 100 Southwest airplanes from taking off, including my flight.  I stood in line for 90 minutes to talk to an agent, who informed me that the earliest rebooking would see me arrive in Utah late Saturday night.  I was pretty bummed out that I would miss the race and not see my wife and kids for another day.  I even looked online for flights on other airlines, but found the last-minute tickets were well above my income bracket.  I consoled myself with breakfast at the Southern staple, Waffle House, and vented a bit on facebook and the Fast Running Blog before returning home.  I was already planning a monster trail run the next morning to pound out my aggression, disregarding the ALL-TIME record high temperatures in Greenville that day.

And then, it happened.  Unexpectedly, I received an email from Dale.  I have never met Dale, but he is a runner on the Fast Running Blog who lives near Seattle and is a friend of a friend, having run a Ragnar Relay with Cody a few years prior.  Dale’s email was brief, simply stating that he heard about my situation and wanted to help by donating some frequent flyer miles to get me to Utah that day.  I wrote a quick, “Thanks for the offer, but I really can’t” email, but he immediately reiterated his offer and sent me his phone number to talk.  He included a little snippet that he hated to see a runner miss a race, plus wanted someone to beat Cody.  Still hesitant, I called Dale and was overwhelmed by his insistence.  He had already confirmed that he had enough frequent flier miles to buy me the ticket and had even looked up what time the flight would arrive (11:47 pm) and it’s on-time arrival record.  I told him I would call my wife and let him know.

Marci was understandably shocked when I told her about Dale’s offer.  I still was very reticent to use his miles, but Marci told me that either I took Dale’s offer, arrived very late Friday night, would be able to run the race, and then we would make it to Idaho in time for her family reunion, or I would decline the offer, arrive very late Saturday night, and would miss both the race and family reunion.  I called Dale, expressed my gratitude multiple times, and gave him the info to buy my ticket.  30 minutes later, I was headed back to the airport, ticket in hand.  Good thing I didn’t unpack.  Before I left, I renamed my blog, “Dale is Awesome!!!”  He really is.

Dale

I had Dale book me on an early flight from Greenville to Atlanta, giving me a 4 hour layover before the flight to Salt Lake City.  I was hoping seats on an earlier flight might open up.  As soon as I got to the gate in Greenville, I asked the attendant if there were any openings.  While she looked, I started recounting my adventure that day, including telling how my wife (with 3 kids in tow) was picking me up at the airport at midnight, 14 hours later than originally planned.  Although she first said there were no openings, the attendant humored me by putting me on standby for an earlier flight.  Then, she noticed that I was a medallion member (something I had fortuitously received earlier that very week as a perk from work).  I asked if that made a difference, and she said it certainly did.  5 minutes later, I found myself with a ticket in-hand for the earlier flight.  10 minutes after that, she replaced that ticket with an aisle seat on the earlier flight.  Things could not have worked out better.

That is how, at 10 pm MDT that night, I found myself hoping into a car with my wife in Utah.  Thanks to some road construction, we arrived in Logan at 1 am, 22 hours after I woke up, where I managed to sleep for only a few hours before it was time for the race.

Needless to say, the race is almost an afterthought in this story.  After all, unexpected acts of charity and generosity are far more important that a bunch of skinny guys in short shorts running around a mountain.  But since this is a race report, I better include something.  Cody gave me a ride to the race, and it was great to see him and many other friends at the starting line.  I almost froze to death in the 50 deg temps waiting for the race to start, as I hadn’t experienced weather colder than 60 deg in at least 3 months and was used to 75 or 80 deg lows.  I felt tired and out of breath (gee, I wonder why) on the initial, 3500 ft climb, which allowed a couple packs to pull ahead of me.  I didn’t care- I was just happy to be there, enjoying a gorgeous day in my beloved former stomping grounds of Northern Utah mountains.  I found my lungs after an hour and caught the second group (including Joe and Cody) before aid 2.  We chatted some, then Joe and I slowly pulled away on the climb to Logan Peak, summiting together with only Seth Wold ahead of us. 

Joe and I approaching the summit of Logan Peak (pics from Eli Lucero, Herald Journal News)

Joe and I paused briefly to enjoy the amazing view of the Bear River Range and Cache Valley.  Then, game on- Joe pulled slowly away on the descent, leaving me in 3^rd place.  I pushed hard over the next hour on the rolling North Syncline trail, straining for glimpses of Joe before finally catching him around mile 22, hiking through the mule ears.  Joe thwarted every passing attempt with (un)timely surges before leaving me in his dust at the last aid station.  My quads held up well going down Dry Canyon but I never saw Joe again.  Seth won in just over 4 hours, followed by Joe, me, and Cody, all under Cody’s old CR (though a new path to the summit took off a few minutes).  The food and fraternizing at the finish line were splendid, and I even told the local sports writer about Dale and the donated ticket, which he duly included in his write up.

Joe, Cody, and I after the race

Marci was eager to see her family, so we soon left and drove the Idaho.  I was riding high after a fun race and looking forward to a few good weeks of trail running and pacing at Hardrock.  But I will forever be mindful and grateful to Dale, who truly renewed my faith in humanity and did a good deed just to help someone else.  Dale, and runners everywhere, truly are awesome.  Dale, thank you again.  I’ll do my best to go and do likewise to my fellow men.

Laurel Valley 35 mile race report

Entrants in the Laurel Valley 35 mile race can’t say they weren’t warned about what to expect. The race site is on Claude Sinclair’s “Runner from Hell” homepage, complete with burning flames graphics and the words, “Some Runners are Tough, Some Runners are Insane, Some Runners are Both.” The race qualification requires a 50 mile race completion, and the waiver clearly states that this will likely be the toughest run you will ever do and may cost you your life. It also strongly suggests taking a light and blanket, because you very well might end up sleeping on the course. And the last pre-race email includes these words:

If you are allergic to Yellow Jacket stings then please don’t even attempt this run.  You will get stung and probably more than once.  That is just part of the pain that the course has to offer.  

Despite this, the race sells out every year with a who’s-who of the area's hardcore ultra runners- the CR holders are Clark Zealand and Annette Bednosky.

It’s very apparent that this is a unique race. First of all, no one agrees how long it is- in fact, this was a 15 minute point of discussion at the finish yesterday. It’s generally accepted the race is somewhere between 30-40 miles. Ish. All we know is that it follows the Foothills Trail (FHT) from Rocky Bottom, SC to Whitewater Falls, NC. Garmin’s don’t due well due to lush foliage, switchbacks, and the steps (more on those later). Ground track puts it at 35.7 miles, so that is the “official” distance on the finisher plaques. Will Brown tells how Claude attempted to have the sweeps (the safety runners who bring up the rear) wheel the course one year. They very carefully push the measuring wheel the entire way, gingerly navigating rocks, trees, and the steps (more on those later) for 12 hours. They finally arrive near the finish, ascending the last 500 steps, as Claude waits in anticipation. With just a few stairs to go, the counter on the wheel suddenly falls off and is lost, along with any hopes of knowing the true length. I think the course just doesn’t want us to know.

Aside from the unknown length, it’s generally obvious why this race is so difficult. Primarily, it is run across the Foothills trail, traversing the most technical terrain of South Carolina. In the middle of August. With no aid stations. None. And there are no signs of civilization, other than the bridges and steps (more on those later) that were surely built by some primitive civilization, probably aided by aliens. Other than the start and finish, you are never closer than 5 miles to a road. Once you start, you cannot DNF- you have to finish or turn around and go back to the start. You are very isolated- you are as likely to see bear and wild boar as people. But this race reminds me of the Grand Mesa 50, in that there are just a bunch of small, almost intangible things that add up. The heat. The humidity. The endless false summits. Running 4 hours without seeing a single person. Boulder scrambling. Dramatic drop offs. The first course marking is within a mile of the finish line. And, the smallest thing, the stairs (more on those right now).

The Stairs

LV35 starts at the base of some steep stairs. And I mean that literally. Right at the base- no 100 meter run first to work out position. Claude shoots his shotgun to start the race (again, literally, except this year cause his shells were wet), and you immediately start stepping. Although, being the south, everyone is polite and lets others go first, so we all stood there for 5 seconds, trying to figure out who would go first. Then, over the next 30-40 miles, you will climb and descend somewhere around 5000 steps. That’s a whole stinking lot of stairs. Up and down mountains. You don’t realize the wide variety of steps until you run LV. Some steps are very even with nice handrails (left photo is the starting line).

Some are a bit steeper and more challenging.

And some are so dramatic that it almost seems as the Creator himself must have put them in, for surely no man could have been crazy enough to build steps up that steep of a mountain…

Photos courtesy of Jason Sullivan, Barry Burns, Psyche Wimberly, and Google Images.

I have a spreadsheet I use to predict split times at races based on distances, elevation change, temperature, etc. However, I found my spreadsheet is wholly inadequate for LV. Following the laws of trail running and physics, it assumes that running downhill is faster and easier than running uphill. Indeed, this is generally true. However, when the downhill consists of carefully picking your way down uneven, huge steps on 45 deg slope, the law of Laurel Valley trumps the laws of physics, rendering downhill the slowest direction of all. Especially when the steps are wooden, moss-covered, and wet.

The Race

I continued my pre-race tradition of restlessness Friday night, only sleeping about 3 hours. I left at 4:20 am for the 70 min drive, arriving to find the parking lot bustling with the activity of about 40 racers (the 5 am starters were already gone). After the usual preparations, we were ready to go. The only item of note was that 5-time winner Brian Kistner would not be running. Right at the 6 am signal, 2010 winner John Dove was the first one up the stairs, followed by 15-time finisher and local legend Byron Backer, with me right behind. The temperatures were mid-60’s, 10 degrees cooler than the past month, but the 100% humidity had my shirt soaked within the first mile. I quickly removed it and carried it the rest of the way. Byron and I talked for the first 45 minutes, up and over the first climb and descent as the sun slowly rose over the mountains.

We hit a flat stretch, and I passed him and pulled away just as we caught the 5 am sweeps. Miles 4-7 are generally fast as the trail follows a river past the beautiful Virginia Hawkins Falls and Laurel Fork Falls. Reaching Lake Jocassee, the trail then climbs for several miles and passes into North Carolina. I passed more 5 am starters, then John Dove. Shortly after the top, 10 miles and 1:45 into the race, I passed the front 5 am starter, who informed me I was now in the lead. Even if he hadn’t told me, I would have immediately figured this out due to the pleasure that only the lead runner at LV35 can experience:

Spider Webs

The LV spiders are some of the most industrious on earth, capable of building webs that can span any distance. 1 foot gap between 2 bushes and a singletrack trail? No problem. 3 foot span between handrails on 3 dozen bridges? You bet. 4 foot gap between a tree and a rock with a doubletrack trail in between? Can do. 8 foot gap between 2 trees and a fireroad? We’re on it. Fortunately, they are also very fertile, taking quite seriously their duty to multiply and fill the earth, or at least the FHT portion of it. Finally, in order to catch the huge South Carolina insects and even the stray bird or mammal, they have perfected the industrial strength web. NASA consulted with the spiders to ensure maximum adhesion and tensile strength. But the spiders want to test their strength, and so recruited Claude to put on a race for the sole purpose of having a hapless runner test the strength of hundreds of the webs, at ankle, leg, hair, chest, and (best of all) face-height. I would estimate that I encountered at least two webs each minute (this is likely an underestimate- there were sometimes 4 webs in a 20 foot span). Multiply this by 4.5 hours in the lead and… well, you get the picture. When I was lucky enough to see the sun glinting off them or a HUGE spider in the middle, I would often stop, find a stick, and swipe until the path was clear. I probably did this at least 50 times. But when I didn’t see them, or by the end when I was too tired to care, I just plowed right through. The best is when they hit right in the open mouth- by the end, you just swallow the web, hoping the spider is there for extra protein. Who needs gu?!?

(The bottom photo is an actual FHT spider web)

The Race (cont.)

The course proceeded up and down the steepest climb of the race just after Rock Creek (300 ft down the lovely stairs in about .2 mile), the crosses the huge Toxaway suspension bridge above the lake before climbing back up the mountains. The air was getting warmer, hitting mid-80’s, and I had to slow on the uphill to not overheat. After several miles of long ups and downs, I reached the much anticipated BAS at mile 17.7 and 3:13.

BAS

BAS, also known as the Barry Aid Station, was how I dealt with the lack of aid on the course. Rather than risk sickness by drinking straight from the streams, and unwilling to carry 180 oz of water or stop to filter, Barry generously volunteered to backpack 7 miles through Gorges State Park while carrying 2 gallons of water, camp overnight (in the rain with only a hammock for protection), then hike back out. The sole purpose: to refill my water and gu’s and offer a change of shoes and clothes. I arrived at the BAS to the barking of the two dogs, but Barry was no where to be found. He quickly came sprinting from the other direction, jumping into action. In less than 150 seconds, he had refilled my 90 oz of water, reloaded my gu’s and S-caps, and sent me on my way with encouraging words. By my estimate, Barry spent 25 hours (including 3.5 hiking) just for those 2.5 minutes of helping me. Friendship in its truest form- thanks, Barry. He even managed to snap this action photo of me pulling away.

The Push

After the BAS, I started doing the math in my head and realized that my 6 hr goal would be increasingly difficult. I pushed hard for the next 2 hours. Very hard. I had no idea where the next runner was behind me, though I doubted anyone would catch me. But I could not have run any harder even with someone right on my heels. This was a race, and I was determined to race it. I kept the 6 hour goal in the front of my mind, urging myself to go faster and faster. I ran up long climbs and bombed descents. My legs ached from the 90 miles I had already run that week, but they churned onwards. I crossed Horsepasture River at 3:48, estimating the last 11 miles would take about 130 minutes. The trail along Bearcamp Creek provided a relatively flat, if particularly spider-infested, break from the many climbs. It is one of my favorite sections of the trail.

By the time I reached Thompson River at mile 26.6 at 5:02, I had accepted that my sub-6 goal had slipped away. Disappointed, I pressed up and down the trail to Bad Creek access point, just trying to hang on (and also trying to outrun my own overpowering stench). The relatively flat trail followed the Whitewater River upstream for 1.5 miles across another stretch of beautiful, soft trails. Finally, the trail crosses some boulders and a bridge before the final 600 ft climb to the waterfalls overlook (complete with several hundred more stairs, of course).

Tourists crowded the platforms and steps, with one even asking why I was sweating so much (I replied it was because I had been running for the past 6 hours). I reached the top and ran down the paved trail to the picnic shelter, where only Claude, his wife, and one volunteer, Stephen Morris, were waiting. Final stats were about 31-32 miles in 6:05:50 with about 7600 climb/6700 descent (or 10,300/9600 per SportTracks).

Other racers’ family members trickled in, with Barry showing up at 12:30 with a jug of my post-run favorite chocolate milk in-hand (again, thanks). We waited another 30 minutes, with Claude jokingly asking if I had removed the (non-existent) course markers or set booby traps that stopped all the following runners. I finally went to the bathroom to wash up a bit and change clothes. I returned to find that 6 runners had arrived in that 10 minute period (including 2 ladies), led by Byron in 7:17:09. After a bit of the usual post-race chat with the finishers, Barry drove me back to my car. Thunderclouds turned to a downpour on the way, which I’m sure added some adventure for the many racers still on the course. The 2+ hr drive saw me return home at 4:30 pm, 12 hours after leaving. I was relieved that Marci hadn’t gone into labor during that time, a real possibility since she’s in her final month (thanks for letting me go do another crazy run, babe). And when told of my win, McKinley excitedly said that I am “super-duper fast!” In an interesting fact, I have entered 4 trail runs this year, winning 3 of them and DNF-ing the other. I think that is my most wins ever in one year.

Overall, the Laurel Valley 35 mile ultra is a great run. Very challenging, but very rewarding. If you want lush vegetation, picturesque waterfalls, swinging bridges, wildlife, and self-supported solitude, with just a few stairs along the way, then come try it. And let’s face it- if you read this entire novel of a race report, then you’re obviously interested! I’ll probably do this race every year I am in SC, and maybe I’ll even taper one year to give myself a decent shot of breaking 6 hrs or even 5:30. But, Clark’s CR of 5:02 is out of reach- of all the trail races I’ve ever done, I would call that the most untouchable CR ever.