American River 50 2011

The American River 50 starts near downtown Sacramento and follows the American River Parkway on a combination of bike path and singletrack trail. This year, approximately 800 runners gathered in the dark, 30 degree morning to make their way up to Auburn. The day was filled with friendly faces, delicious food, beautiful trails, perfect weather, awesome volunteers, and even some fast times. In short: It was everything you could want out of a 50 mile day.

Runners gather at the start.

With so many runners in the race, both the bus ride and standing around at the start had been a chance to say hello and chat with friends. As we headed off down the trail, I felt relaxed but excited to see how my day would play out. I was familiar with the course, having raced here twice before, but this would be my first time here as an experienced ultrarunner with solid training.

With Catherine, staying warm before the start.

The sun rose over the misty meadows, and even with so many runners out there, the morning felt peaceful and quiet. Wild turkeys gossiped in the grass, and the water rushed along in the river below. I chatted pleasantly with a few runners, and simply focused on being relaxed.

I wanted to run well at this race, but I am aware that I have a tendency to start too fast when I have big expectations. The challenging part about this course though, is that all the fast miles are in the first half, where the trail is flat. Thus, the runner walks a fine line between banking a little time on the easy miles, and going out too fast, trashing her legs on the pavement and having nothing left for the trails. I planned to do my best to walk that line.

At mile five I saw that I was running 9 minute pace. Perfect. At mile 10, the same. Knowing the bike path portion was nearly half over, I decided this was where I was allowed to run a bit faster. I had started with a reasonable pace, and now it was time to use these fast miles to my advantage.

Smart runners stay on the dirt shoulder!

I ran along with my friend John from Reno, and another runner, Mike. John, who would normally be ahead of me, was struggling with an injury, so I was a little concerned for him. Mike turned out to be one of those runners who has been running all the local NorCal ultras for years. I love running with these guys because they always have great stories! I could tell I was still relaxed in spite of the increased pace because I was jabbering away so constantly that I missed a turn. Mike and John had to yell at me numerous times before I realized I was going the wrong way. Whoops! Clearly, I should not be in the lead of our little group.

John and Mike keep me company down the trail.

This picture is blurry because I am talking so fast!

By the time we approached Negro Bar at mile 22 I wanted to shed my long sleeved shirt and gloves. Spotting Jamie’s family at the aid station, I gratefully handed my extra clothing off to her husband and found out that she hadn’t come through yet. I hadn’t been able to find her at the start, which isn’t too surprising given the darkness and sheer number of people. Still, it looked like I might not get to run with her at all, which was disappointing. I knew she couldn’t be far behind.

On-the-go bottle hand-off at Negro Bar, mile 22. (Photo courtesy of Nico Vera)

 My marathon split of 3:45 confirmed for me that I was still in the zone of banking time without going too fast. I tried to calculate what that might mean for my overall finishing time, but I just couldn’t estimate what kind of pace I might make once we hit the dirt for good. When I’d sent in my entry fee for this race, I had thought 8 hours would be a great accomplishment. After taking a close look at my result at Cool and my training schedule, I realized that 8 hours probably wasn’t realistic. The plan for the day was to run under 8:30, but I was still secretly hoping to get close to that 8 hour mark.

Coming into Beal's Pt. at mile 26ish.

I came into the aid station at Beals, just past the marathon point, feeling a little tight in the hips. I was definitely ready to move from pavement to dirt, and excited with the knowledge that I was about to do just that. While a gracious volunteer filled my bottle, I grabbed some food and rocked out to the blaring tones of Great White’s Once Bitten, Twice Shy coming through the loudspeakers. I am not afraid to admit that for probably an entire year in high school, this was my very favorite song. I amused onlookers by enthusiastically singing along, got my bottle back, and I was outta there!

One of the many things I greatly appreciated about this race was that the drink and gels of the day were GU. This is what I train with, so it really makes a big difference to have it available during a race. It's especially true when it comes to drinking. GU Brew is one of the only electrolyte drinks that my stomach handles very well. If a race doesn’t offer that, then I usually just drink water. On this day though, I filled up with GU at nearly every aid station. It was an easy way to get more calories, and it comprised my nutrition for the day along with the gels, numerous PBJ squares, and some salty potatoes.

Rounding Folsom Lake, I reveled in the brilliant sunshine. Leaving my house the previous evening, it had been snowing. Again. And on this very section of trail two weeks earlier, Jamie and I had nearly been blown into the lake by the crazy rain and wind. I smiled deliciously at the day's contrast of warmth and blue skies.

Folsom Lake

Now on the dirt singletrack, my muscles loosened up a bit. It was magic; I felt amazing! The technical aspects provided a fun challenge, and the scenery was gorgeous. Green grasses, purple flowers, shady oaks, rushing river. Springtime perfection!

I did a good amount of passing and fell in behind a guy and girl who were moving really well. We leaped the creeks and ran all the uphills and the day was glorious. I was hoping they might pull me along to a fast time, when they abruptly stopped and let me pass. Dangit!

These middle miles of technical trails were my favorite part of the day, and I felt strong. With less than 20 miles to go, I felt confident about letting loose and allowed myself to run as fast as I wanted to. Now I was breathing hard and running aggressively, but still grinning ear to ear.

Just outside of Rattlesnake Bar at mile 41, the trail becomes less technical. There are much fewer ups and downs, and not as many rocks to contend with. There was some mud, but everything is relatively flat. The following 6 miles or so was the only section where I had a bit of trouble staying focused. I still did some passing, but I think the mellow terrain had me zoning out, and I felt my pace fluctuate somewhat.

A little mud, here and there.

Beautiful, mellow singletrack. It just keeps going on!

When John came up behind me at mile 45, I was excited to see him.

“You’re still here!” I declared, smiling. I had worried that his injury might force him to drop.

“Yup,” he agreed. “Still here!”

I let him pass, and then did my best to keep up with him.

It's hard to see, but this meadow was covered with purple flowers, and all those black dots are butterflies.

Standard AR50 singletrack.

The namesake river.

Soon we reached the big hill at mile 47, and I immediately gained all my concentration and focus back. The previous weekend Jamie and I had run the last ten miles of the course as an out-and-back, and she had shown me just how runnable this last hill is. I gathered my last reserves and set out with determination to run the whole thing.

Three miles to go! (Behind that, "Flat!" and "Run!")

This hill is marked off with signs counting down the final miles, and I also noticed some chalked words on the pavement. When the hill leveled out briefly, the words “Flat!” and “Run!” could be seen. I laughed at this, since people probably really do need to be told that it’s flat when they’re tired and it’s mile 47.  The good views were also pointed out with chalked words, which I loved. Everything might hurt, but don’t forget to enjoy the beauty of your surroundings!

I’d passed one woman at the bottom of the hill, a few men, and now I was coming up on another woman. I was feeling pretty good about this until I saw that this woman kept pausing to throw up. That’s not such a great reason to be passing someone, and I felt bad for her. I was even more distressed when I got close enough to see that it was my friend Jenny keeping company with the puke monster. Oh no!

As I passed, I gave her sympathy and she gave me encouragement, and that is the way it goes with ultrarunners. We traded hugs shortly after finishing.

The Last Gasp aid station appeared to be staffed by a boy’s high school xc team. A few yards before the station, a shirtless boy politely took my bottle and sprinted, gazelle-like, up the hill. He had it filled and ready to go when I arrived. Wow! They would clearly be getting a workout if they were going to keep up that kind of service for the rest of the day. I was stoked!

Rounding the last corner, the chalked words read, “Cold beer ahead!” Really? I thought. I didn’t know they were going to have beer! Then a few yards later, tiny letters spelled out “not.”

Oh yeah, ha ha, really funny guys. Way to get a girl’s hopes up.

Coming into the finish area, Norm Klein was on the microphone showering me with accolades. I can’t remember what he said, but it put a big smile on my face as I crossed the line. It had been a good day, but I was definitely happy to be done. My legs hurt!

I felt good about my finish time of 8:16 but not blown away by it. It was around what I’d expected, but even though I felt good all day, I can’t say it came easily. I was more surprised to find out that I came in 9^th woman, and to be handed an age group award along with my finisher’s jacket. I had certainly not expected to crack the top ten at a race this big!

At the front end of the race, Ellie Greenwood and Kami Semick had run together, with Ellie pulling ahead somewhere around the 30 mile mark. Ellie won in 6:25 with Kami second in 6:34. In the men’s race, Dave Mackey pulled out the win with a 5:55 in a tight men’s field. (Complete results.)

After finishing, I enjoyed the best part of a race with 800 people – there were a lot of friends there! I scrubbed poison oak off my legs (without complete success, unfortunately) along with John and some of the other men who had finished near us. I congratulated Rick, and met his friends with whom I had shared some trail time. I saw Jenny D. and Nico, said hi to Tim and Dave. I met Ellie, and we shared excitement about our races at Western States. I had hugs with Clare, Amy and Jamie. And I sat in the sunshine chowing greasy burgers with John, Jenny, Mariam, and Collin.

Collin, Miraim and Jenny, chillaxin!

John styles his hair, post race. Pretty boy! ;)

With Clare Abrams at the finish.

Amy and Jamie at the finish.

With Rick at the finish.

Everything at this race was top notch, and for me, it was another solid stepping-stone towards a good season. I love the excitement of racing!

Big thanks to Julie and her crew. The time and effort put into this event clearly shows in its quality. And those finisher’s jackets – wow! Very nice.

Next up: Miwok. And I’m getting pretty excited about it!

Cool, AR, Miwok, States

Well, there it is. My 2011 race schedule.

Rather than write a whole, lengthy post, pontificating on my thought process and goals regarding each race, I thought I'd just summarize my impending season in the post title. I've spared you. (Mostly.)

I'm calling this The Season of Humility. Or possibly Running with the Fast Girls. Or maybe just Getting my Ass Kicked. I haven't decided yet. Regardless, it's sure to be a damn good time. I like racing.

After toning down the racing last year, largely for financial reasons, I'm cranking it back up again this year, and I'm pretty excited about it. While the title races will be the backbone of my season, comprising the races where I'll push myself, there will also be a few more short races sprinkled in there for fun. Western States, of course, is the goal race, and the only one that will get a real taper.

I don't have anything on the schedule after June, but I plan to take advantage of my fitness by spending some long days in the wilderness with friends throughout the Summer and Fall. And no matter what happens in my races, that will be the best prize I earn.

Mike runs through Desolation Wilderness, October 2010

What races and adventures are on your schedule this year? Will I get to see you out on the trail?

Think More, Run Less

This past weekend was my first big race of the season, the American River 50. When I say “was,” I don’t just mean that the race itself is over. I mean that the idea of it being my first race of the season is also a thing of the past. I was a big, fat DNS at AR50.

My intention for this race was purely to use it as training, to get big miles in the month of April. I’d planned to follow it up with the Diablo Marathon the following weekend to ensure that I indeed wouldn’t take it too seriously. Unfortunately, Diablo got cancelled, and in searching for a replacement race, I came up with the Leona Divide 50. (What’s an additional 24 miles at this point, right?) Although plenty of people have questioned my plan for back-to-back 50’s, I have every confidence in my ability to take “races” as training runs, and I think it would have worked out beautifully. If I had been healthy. (And here’s where “unfortunately” starts to become my repetitive word of the day.)

As it turns out, I seem to be having a posterior tibial tendon issue. (I’d put in the actual, technical term where I have substituted the word “issue,” but I don’t think I could spell it.) To be honest, this is an issue that has plagued me for over two years, and no amount of time off seems to find any improvement. Unfortunately, the past few weeks have seen a marked increase on the pain scale, mostly likely due to increasing my weekly mileage fairly quickly.

It’s been enough to motivate me (at last!) to find an excellent physical therapist, and I’ve learned a whole lot about what is going on with my body. I’ll do my best to spare you the mind-numbing details, because the truth is, I don’t even enjoy trying to wrap my brain around it all. I’ll keep it to the basics so that we don’t all fall asleep here.

First, I love my physical therapist. He came recommended from a wise friend, so I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, but I have a really hard time trusting people in general, and especially when it comes to my running. Because, you see, I know everything. No one knows more than I, and woe to anyone who tries to tell me what to do. But this PT and I, we are on the exact same page. He has a very balanced approach, doesn’t think I’m crazy, and doesn’t necessarily think time off is always the answer. He makes sense out of a complicated picture, and he seems to approach things in much the same way that I do. Obviously he’s brilliant.

Second, I have learned that one of my legs is fully half an inch longer than the other, and this seems to be causing no small number of problems for me. The end result of all of this is that I am currently involved in the process of re-learning how to run. There’s a lot more to it than that, but that’s what it boils down to for me, and I hate it. I have to spend so much time thinking.

Thinking!

Running long distance, and trail running especially, has never been about thinking for me. It’s been the place where I have been the most free, the most at peace. In the past I have always felt in tune with my body while running, and it’s a part of the experience that I really enjoy. Lately though, we’re speaking through translators. It’s time now for me to learn the foreign language of my dysfunctional mechanics.

I know in the end, when I am healthy again, it will be worth it, but right now it’s tedious to think about every little detail of what I am doing when I run. It’s not a fun place to be when the thing that is normally a remedy for stress, becomes its main source. My love affair with running is definitely “on a break.”

So, while I’m grateful to be still running, I’ve taken many days off in an attempt to rest this inflamed tendon. The week before AR, I was out on a 30 mile trail run. At about mile 27, the complaints emanating from my tendon increased sharply in volume. It wasn’t a bad run, but it certainly caused me to question the wisdom of two 50-mile runs in a row, and the subsequent stress of this questioning made for some sleepless nights.

One lesson I learned (and will probably have to relearn many more times) is that it’s generally the indecision itself that causes the most stress. Once I decided running AR would constitute complete idiocy (although I’m fully capable of idiocy, I assure you), it was only a day before I got over the depression of my DNS and started to feel pretty good about the decision.

At this point, I’m looking at this weekend’s upcoming Leona Divide and feeling pretty excited about it. It’s a brand new race for me, and I haven’t run a new ultra in a few years. Unlike AR, it’s all on trail (much more my style), and it’s on the PCT. If you don’t know, I have a long-standing romance with the Pacific Crest Trail. Perhaps one day I’ll spend some time to wax poetic on that topic, but for now just know that I am thoroughly excited about the prospect of my first race on this trail. I’m still not taking a real taper (although the last few weeks of lower mileage have me more rested than I really should be), but without the AR50 teaser, this won’t be the “survival on dead legs” that I’d originally imagined. I’m going in with a conservative mindset, knowing I may have to back off if the tendon flares up, but also knowing that I’m pretty excited to get out there for an early season test of fitness.


Here are a few pictures from my last two weekends of running, and from yesterday’s powder day with Andrew. You can see how I have the best of both worlds in terms of getting both alpine adventures, and still finding dirt within a reasonable drive.

Newt!

Castle Peak

Climbing Donner Peak

Top of The Lake Run

Preparing to drop in

American River 50 Mile Endurance Run

Before embarking upon my race report for the wonderful American River 50, I must apologize for my lack of a report on Rucky Chucky. I can see that if my blogging is going to keep pace with my race schedule, I will have to reform my slacker ways. I don’t hold out much hope, but I’ll do my best.

So a brief recap of Rucky Chucky: I went into the day with very little running in the previous 6 weeks. I knew if I had any hope of finishing AR50, I would need to get through this race without much trouble. Fortunately, that’s exactly the way it went! I shared a cool, and slightly rainy, day with some familiar faces and new friends, including Peter, Catherine and Dave. I took it fairly easy, enjoying the scenery and the dirt trail, and finished in 6:25: 2nd woman. I was a “go” for AR50!

By now, my husband is fairly used to my running antics, but even he balked at the fact that I wanted to set the alarm for 2:15 am for this race.

“That’s not early, that’s just later tonight!” He declared, with one of those “I don’t understand you at all!” looks on his face. I just shrugged my agreement.

I was in the car by 2:50, coffee in hand, for the drive to Auburn. After getting slightly stressed out by the freeway closure and subsequent detour, I arrived in Auburn on time for the 4:15 bus to the starting line.

I had the fortune to nab a seat between the familiar faces of Scott Dunlap and Catherine Sullivan, and we spent the early morning hour catching up. It made the normally anxious waiting go by quickly.

Unfortunately the bus left quite late, and we arrived at the start at about 5:40 for the 6:00 race. I still had to check in, and the line at the outhouse was predictably long. I had to forgo pre-taping my feet, and rushed through my pre-race duties just a bit frantically. Finally, I tossed my finish line bag into the appropriate trailer and dashed toward the start. I was still a few hundred yards away when I heard the race start, but no matter, it would be a long day.

I moved my way steadily through the crowd in the dark. With 650 runners, it made for a tight start on the bike path—unusual for an ultra! I saw the leaders headed back, and soon I was at the 1 mile turn-around and heading towards Auburn.

The sun came up, and suddenly Scott appeared from behind. I thought I had seen him going the wrong way at the start! Apparently he decided last-minute that gloves would be an appropriate asset for the morning. I couldn’t disagree, since I was a bit chilled in my tank top and shorts, but being from Truckee, I was more concerned about the heat later in the day. Anyway, I think the gloves were just an excuse for Scott. Coming from the back, he had a chance to chat with everyone in the race. What a nice guy! He jogged along with me for a few minutes before moving on to socialize with faster runners.

Me--pigging out at the aid station! (photo courtesy of Catherine)



Eventually I caught up to Catherine, and we ran together for a little bit. Our walking breaks weren’t matching up though (nor were our bathroom breaks!) and it seemed like most of the time I could see her 50 yards ahead, but we weren’t really running together. I considered skipping a walking break to catch her, but I knew I would pay for it later. I was just about to catch her again when I saw her veer off toward an outhouse. Nooooo! Oh well. I wouldn’t see her again until the finish line.

The day was looking beautiful, and these early miles were easy. My watch said I was probably running a bit faster than I should be, close to 9 hour pace, but I knew the trail section of the course would be slower. I stuck to the dirt shoulder of the bike path as much as possible, and the miles flew by.

The view from Beal's Point

Soon we were at Beal’s Point, and switching to mostly trail. I kept company with my ipod for a little while and soaked in the scenery. I just don’t understand people who don’t like this race. There is a lot of trail, though most of it is non-technical and not too hilly, and the setting can’t be beat. Even in 2006 when it was rainy and muddy, I had a blast! This year, the flowers were beautiful, and the green hillsides a nice change from the dirty, melting snow in Truckee.

In ’06 I struggled between Granite Bay and Rattlesnake Bar (~miles 31-40). This year I felt strong through this section, and this was where I began passing people. I was loving the trail and the weather, and could tell that I wasn’t going to blow up. I chatted with a few folks as I moved through, and I am disappointed that I can’t remember anyone’s name. I can’t figure out how bloggers like Scott can remember so many people’s names, hometowns, times, etc.!

By the time I reached Buzzard’s Cove, the day was warming up. Although the aid station was advertised as water-only, the first thing they offered me upon entering was an ice cream cone. I questioned the wisdom of that much dairy at mile 35.

“Twietmeyer took one!” came the testimonial from the ice cream man.

“Okay, you sold me,” I reached out to grab the proffered cone, and the ice cream man laughed. I laughed myself, when around the next bend I found myself posing mid-lick for the official race photographer.

After passing through Rattlesnake Bar, I knew that I only had ten miles to go. This section of trail was mostly gentle, and quite scenic. I stayed with my comfortable pace, thinking I might be able to finish in 9:30—about the same as in ’06! I could tell that I was pushing things a bit, but that I would finish feeling fine. I was more concerned about how this race was going to affect the Diablo Marathon in 2 weeks. Wait! Don’t start worrying about the next race before this one is even done!

Approaching Last Gasp, I found myself walking the steep stretch of dirt hill. After the aid station, the trail gives way to pavement and the slope relaxes quite a bit. I was able to run most of this section. After a few minutes, a woman whom I had passed just before the aid station, came up behind me. She had a pacer, and was moving well. Since I was running, not walking, I didn’t feel too bad about being passed, especially since I had just passed her a few minutes before. Still, I thought she looked familiar. Could this be the same woman who had passed me in the last 10 miles of TRT last year? Well, I had certainly been delirious at mile 90, so who knew what that woman really looked like, but I recalled her age, and this woman didn’t look old enough. I convinced myself it wasn’t her.

Once the hill was over, I knew I was basically ‘there’ and ran in to the finish line. I had to flash the announcer a big smile as he declared my pigtails ‘beautiful!” Braids are the best way to keep my hair from becoming a snarled mess during a long run, but if someone wants to think they’re beautiful, hey, that’s cool by me!

Crossing the line, I was gifted my beautiful finisher’s jacket. I finally requested the right size this year, and I LOVE this jacket. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve taken it off since Saturday.

I scrubbed poison oak from my legs, and stretched out in the sun with a cheeseburger, coke and ice cream. Yum! I caught up with a few other runners, including Jeff Barbier, Jenny Capel and Catherine, and scanned through the results while I waited for my massage.

And then I saw her name. It WAS her! Yes, the same woman who had passed me near the end of TRT had just finished right in front of me. Dang! Well, it was a good thing I didn’t know, since I wasn’t supposed to be getting competitive today!

I finished with a course PR of 9:22, which made me satisfied. I don’t know my place among women, but I was 11th in my age group. Not bad really, for such a competitive race.

Catherine and I sport our awesome finisher's jackets!

All in all, it was an excellent kick-off to my spring break! Thanks to Julie and everyone who helped to pull off this wonderful event!

I think my “race-your-way-into-shape” training plan is going fine. I was extremely sore after both Rucky Chucky and AR50, but I am feeling good today.

See you all at Diablo?