Peavine Mountain - Verdi Trailhead

Trail: Dirt roads and singletrack, often rocky and loose

Distance: Approximately 14 miles, depending on route, with about 4,000' elevation gain

Difficulty: Challenging

Trailhead: From north Tahoe, take I-80 east. Exit Verdi, and take the main road (hwy 40) for several miles through the town of Verdi. You'll see Peavine on your left. As the road curves back toward the freeway, look for a dirt pull-out on your left.

Season: Year round, with some snow in the winter months

Water: Bring plenty, because once the snow melts, the slopes of Peavine are dry. With no tree cover on much of the mountain, temperatures can be devastatingly hot in the summer and water will be important.

Trail Description: I was looking for some solid vertical gain and descent for my run, and I knew I would find it at Peavine. Jenelle joined in my plan to simply climb up to the summit at 8,200 feet and turn around. There are plenty of options for trails or roads to climb. Since there are no trees and the views are vast, it's easy to stay well-oriented. We weren't sure exactly what route we needed to take to reach the summit, but we weren't too worried about getting lost.

We began climbing immediately, and after a mile or so, our run melted into a well-paced hike. We were both thankful for a last minute decision to run in shorts instead of tights since the temperature felt unseasonably warm.

Depending on your trail choices, the climbs can be quite steep.

Summit shot with the dogs.

Most of the trails are unmarked, so depending how far you plan to go, it's a good idea to pay attention to your surroundings. You may also encounter mountain bikers and other trail users on dirt bikes or quads. Everyone is typically quite polite and will slow down to pass. 

The mountain was quiet for us and the views peaceful on the long haul up. We followed a similar route that is part of the Silver State 50 course, and I can tell you that it's much easier without 35 miles already on the legs! Still, it's early season, and this run was a solid workout for me for December. 

 The run back to the car was more pleasant than I had expected. It's a quad-pounder for sure, and some of the terrain is steep and loose. Somehow though, I felt great. Just wonderful.

For the Love of Reno

Trails near Peavine Mountain, just West of Reno.

A year and a half ago, my husband and I both began commuting to Reno from our home in Truckee for work. I was beginning a new job teaching 5th and 6th grades at a private school; he was attending paramedic school and eventually working on an ambulance in the city. On our drive home, we would share our days, and marvel at what opposite worlds we experienced in the same city.


The world of a paramedic is less than glamorous, as I'm sure you can imagine. While I was awash in loving, well-off families, bright, happy children, and a world that values education, he existed in the seediest of underbellies for such a small city, describing scenes straight out of the movie Seven. His work is beyond admirable, but I have to say, I prefer the view from the teacher's desk. 


After spending so much time there by this point, I've developed an ardent fondness for Reno, and in fact, I owe it a lot. Let me explain what I mean.


Aside from being home to a job that I love, and of course, Trader Joe's, Reno has an awesome community of people. Being a runner, I'm primarily speaking of the running community. I have yet to meet a runner from Reno that wasn't friendly and enthusiastic. There are my favorite Team Library Dorks, and all the folks who are involved with events like Silver State, Escape from Prison Hill, and Tahoe Rim Trail. There is a vibrant running community!


I also have great affection for both the trails and climate of Reno. Running through a winter in Truckee means pounding a lot of pavement, frequent whiteout conditions, icy roads - adversity in all forms. It builds character but tends to kill the weekly mileage.


Remember March? We had over 200 inches of snow that month. My house looked like this:

Reno typically looked like this:

This is Flat Stanley hanging out with me at the top of the hill at Bartley Ranch Park, where I do my weekly hill repeats.

Only 30 minutes away, but Reno exists in this wonderful little thing called the rain shadow. It's magic, really. Storms come in off the coast and slam into the wall of the Sierra Nevada. The mountains effectively act as a giant umbrella over the East side, sheltering it from the rain and snow. Storms rage in the mountains, while the sun shines peacefully in Reno.


Not only am I running in better weather, but there are nearly always some snow-free trails to be found. I run more miles and almost no pavement now because I get to run after school in Reno.


I like to hit up trails at Peavine, or in the hills above the Patagonia store. Turi did a great write-up of one of my weekly destinations for speedwork, the Steamboat Ditch Trail. There are trails east of Reno, south in Galena or down in the Virginia Highlands where the wild Mustang roam and surely more than one cowboy movie was filmed. 

I give Reno full credit for my strong Winter and Spring training this year. Did I mention the weather? This was my house on June 2:

Um, yeah. And here it was this morning, June 6th by the way, after the morning dog walk:

And by comparison, here was the sky in Reno today:

Enough said.


Thank you, Reno!

Silver State 50M 2010

The summit of Peavine Mountain sits at 8,500 feet. Not high, really, by Tahoe standards, but it looms over the city of Reno like a sentry, guarding the edge of the Sierra Nevada from the reaches of the high desert. It draws a horizon line that dominates my twice-daily drive between Reno and Truckee, and thus often dominates my thoughts as well. Its treeless countenance takes on two shades: In the winter, it’s white—completely white. In the summer? Brown. And relentlessly hot.

But this is Peavine from afar, from the safe confines of the climate-controlled vehicle, speeding along at 70 miles-an-hour toward some other destination.

A deeper experience with the mountain illuminates an expanse of personalities. And few activities offer a more intimate experience with place than does running. This year’s Silver State 50/50 blessed us with the most winsome of Peavine’s temperaments.

On race morning, friends and I arrived at the start with just enough time to dash from the car to the bathroom to the starting line. No time for socializing—we were off! Across the wet grass of Rancho San Rafael Park, and towards the mountain, a hundred or so intrepid runners began the 50 mile journey.

The course doesn’t mess around, and we launched into the 12-mile climb to the summit almost immediately. After a wet and chilly spring, with snow falling just four days previously, the forecasted high for the day was in the upper seventies. It sounded hot to me, but I knew it was better than snow, wind and rain any day, so I was pleased.

I spent the first several miles climbing the singletrack with my friend John, whom I hadn’t seen in months. We shared training stories from the year and upcoming race plans and goals. The miles seemed to go by fast as I locked into my steady hill-climbing pace, alternating running with walking as dictated by the terrain. The early morning light cast a slightly golden glow, and the cool air felt hopeful.

I passed through the summit aid station at mile 12.5, and it was only after I had stopped climbing that I noticed how tight I felt. My hips and hamstrings felt sore, my legs heavy, and even my shoulders felt achy and tight. The climb had given me something to focus on, and distracted me from the fact that I was feeling decidedly less that spry.

Approaching the Summit aid station at the top of Peavine.

On the Western edge of the mountain, the trail heads off onto what’s known as the Long Valley Loop. This long loop is on a beautiful, lightly forested section of trail. With its pines and granite outcroppings, it feels distinctly more like the Sierra Nevada than does Peavine. You’ve made the transition out of the desert. I enjoyed this loop, but I was running alone and I had a hard time keeping any kind of a decent pace. The heavy training miles and total absence of any sort of taper were making themselves known. This is when I had the revelation: “Not easy is good.” The race was supposed to be training, after all, and I needed training done on tired legs.

I arrived at a Hawaiian-themed aid station just as they were taking breakfast burritos off the grill, and they looked so amazing that I had to try one. It was one of my training experiments this season to try a variety of foods at aid stations. I like to eat some real food throughout a race, and ideally I’d like my stomach to be able to handle whatever happens to be available. So far, this has been a pretty fun aspect of training. (I love eating!) That was one delicious burrito!

The Hawaiian aid station. What a spread! Will you look at that fruit platter. And, she's got hot breakfast burritos in her hand right there. Yum!

I climbed alone through the sparse forest until I arrived at a small aid station with only 3 volunteers. They were cheering so wildly though, I felt like a rock star. I recognized one of them as Tom Wion, whom I’d met last year during TRT while he was on his way to his first 100-mile finish. I think they thought I was pretty funny because I was more interested in talking to Tom about his experience at TRT than I was in getting on with my own race. Well, I wasn’t feeling that great anyway, so why should I care about a few extra minutes at the aid station, right? I’m such a procrastinator. Eventually I got around to hitting the trail again.

Tom Wion shows off his well-earned belt buckle from TRT 100. Great job, Tom!

I was nearing the end of the Long Valley Loop when I hit my mental low. I was closing in on 30 miles, and I had spent the last 15 or so just feeling like lead. It felt like a stark contrast to Leona Divide, where I had felt relaxed and happy all day. I reminded myself that was because my injury had forced a lot of time off just before Leona. No such luxury in this race, and I would just have to push on through.

At Ranch Creek (mile 28) Michelline (another of the fabulous volunteers who also works the Tunnel Creek AS at TRT) was there to cheer me on. As usual, she gave me just the mental boost I needed. I told Michelline that I’d see her at Tunnel Creek, and started cruising the mellow downhill ahead.

I was back on the flanks of Peavine, and picking up the pace actually had me feeling better. I followed a dirt road that traversed the slope before turning sharply downhill for the 3-mile descent to River Bend. This is a fun, singletrack downhill, in spite of the knowledge that upon reaching the bottom, you will have to climb right back up it and then some.

On my way down I had a chance to see what was going on in the women’s race. Here’s what was going on: I was getting my ass handed to me by a talented field of ladies! It wasn’t really discouraging though because I knew I was running the right pace for myself, and trying to keep up with any of them early in the race would have certainly been a mistake.

Oddly, the return trip up from River Bend was one of the best parts of the day for me. I had this conversation with John after the race, and he and I were of the same mind so I know I’m not completely crazy. I just find something enjoyable in this climb. It was something tangible to set my mind on all day because I knew it was the hardest part of the course. It was also here that I realized the temperatures weren’t nearly as warm as predicted. I’d be surprised if it ever got above 68 degrees. Perfect running weather.

Part of the long climb up Peavine.

I focused on a solid hike, peppered with bits of running. As with most of the day, I was alone, and I was perfectly happy with it. Something about that climb made all my senses come alive. This is the slope of the mountain that I can see from my daily drive. I saw this hillside that I think of as so brown and dry, and here it was—green and alive. The rains had made everything unusually lush, and tiny flowers seemed to pop out everywhere. The sound of my breathing and my feet scuffing the dirt mixed with the birdsong, and I felt almost relaxed. The wind picked up and blew in clouds which formed occasional shadows across the open landscape.

Two years ago at this race, this climb had been the bane of the event. The temperatures soared to 98 degrees, and many runners ran out of water before reaching the aid station—a six-mile climb away. (To the great credit of the volunteers that year, they quickly set up an “emergency” water station a few miles early once they realized the problem.) This year’s conditions held the two experiences in stark contrast, and I was perfectly happy to have this mellower challenge for my day. There was also a new aid station halfway up—Sandy Hill—to ensure runners made it safely to the summit. This newer version of Silver State was much more to my liking.

Sandy Hill aid station, aptly re-named. It wasn't hellish at all this year though!

When I reached Peavine Summit for the last time, the woman checking in runners told me enthusiastically how much I had moved up in the race. She seemed pretty excited about it and I thought it was pretty sweet that she even paid attention. I noticed the other volunteers were layering up with jackets as the cloud cover thickened and the wind picked up. “Perfect weather for running!” I grinned at one of them. She merely smiled in agreement as she rubbed her arms and gave a little shiver.

The remaining 8 miles of downhill went pretty well. The beginning has some loose slippery stretches, but after I got past that, I found myself on beautiful singletrack. It was fairly fast running, and although I was quite ready to be done, I tried to hold a good pace. I could see that I wasn’t going to come anywhere close to my Leona Divide time of 8:45, but it was clear that I was in for a big PR for the course.

In the end, I crossed the line in 9:20, exactly ninety minutes faster than my time from 2008. My name never made it into the official results, despite some help on the matter from some kind race officials. I’m not complaining though; that’s just the paperwork. Plus, finishing 6th woman, nearly 2 hours behind badass Joelle Vaught, is only going to ruin my runner rank on Ultrasignup. We can’t have that!

Back towards Reno, and the finish line.

The finish line was rife with friends, and we sat around eating fresh burgers and exchanging notes on the day. I didn’t really have great things to say about my performance at the time, except for the sizable PR. I simply hadn’t felt that great for the most part. In retrospect though, it makes sense given my training at the time. I’m actually happier with it from a training standpoint, since it’s all done in the name of TRT 100 in July.

The overall quality of the field at this race was impressive this year. Both races (50M and 50K) had some very talented men and women, and that somehow felt like it brought up the quality of the entire event. I’m going to go ahead and give Sean Meissner’s car the award for fastest carpool. I believe they took 2 first places, a second place and a fourth. By comparison, my carpool only took a third, a fourth and a sixth. (I’m sort of the weak link in my carpool, apparently.) We’ll get you next year, Sean!

I should also mention that in my three years at this event, this year definitely seemed the most professional and well-done by the directors and volunteers. It’s always been a good event in my experience, but this year things were kicked up a notch. The course was extremely well-marked (which had been a minor issue on occasion in the past) and the aid stations were amazing. Everyone was all aflutter over the presence of GU Roctane. I was personally a fan of the breakfast burritos and the quesadillas that George Ruiz packed with avocados. Yum!

This is a challenging course with good competition and excellent support. If that sounds like your kind of race, then you couldn’t do much better than Silver State.

Thanks to the volunteers and everyone who put this race together. It was great seeing you guys out there and feeling the love!

On Birthdays and Snowdays

The Palisade Burrow, Monday morning

I'll admit it it upfront: I'm a birthday grinch. I'm certain it's a manifestation of my age, but I'd just as soon have the day pass completely unnoticed. Birthday? What birthday? I'm so not getting older. I still need to run 3:40 to qualify for Boston...I swear. (And I did so 4 times this year, so there, BAA!) Self-pity is terribly unattractive, so I'll not expound on my feelings about aging. Let's just say that I think birthday's are for kids.

It's with this attitude that I have allowed the last several birthdays slip by largely unnoticed by anyone but my family (who are welcome to acknowledge it with singing, cake, and large gifts, of course). At my new school, no such luxury was allowed. Elementary schools are all about birthdays. I had to report my birthday to at least a dozen people in the first week of classes. Why do they care? The kid's birthdays I can understand, but mine? I just don't get it.

Then, the week before the big, dreaded event, my students started talking about it.

"Ms. Brugman, your birthday's next week!" came the squeals.

How do they know this?

"I have it written in my homework planner, see?" (Homework planner is offered up for inspection.)

Oh God.

My husband also spent the day before pestering me, because he thinks it's terribly funny that I hate my birthday. (That's what I get for marrying a younger man, I guess.) He even set the alarm for midnight in a secret plot to wake me up and wish me happy birthday during the first minute of the day. Fortunately I noticed it after he fell asleep and foiled his devilish scheme.

Anyway, the day turned out to be pretty darn good, and I have, in large part, my students to thank. Did I mention that birthday's are for kids? Maybe that's because they know how to bring the proper enthusiasm to the task. Or maybe it's just because they're so genuinely excited about birthdays that it's hard to get mad at them for it. They planned, and executed, a surprise party for me of amazing proportions. Frankly, I was blown away. They decorated the multi-purpose room, set it up with pizzza and cupcakes, plates, balloons, presents, juice boxes -- everything a good birthday needs. They led me in there blind-folded and full of giggles (them and me) and instead of feeling slightly irritated like a good grinch should, I cried.

I am truly grateful for all of the people who love me in this world, and I know there are many of them. I got some incredibly thoughtful gifts and wishes. But there is something pretty special about being loved by kids. (Like when my nephews, ages 3 and 5, sing "Happy Birthday" into the answering machine...so cute!) The fact that a group of 10 and 11-year-olds pulled off such a feat of organization with no adult leadership whatsoever is a sure sign of love in my book.

For the weekend, I had planned my own birthday present of sorts to myself. This involved driving down to Sacramento Friday night to see my favorite band with good friends, driving home Saturday to see the same band again in Tahoe with more good friends, then leaving at 4:30 am Sunday morning (after about 3 hours of sleep) to return to Sacramento and run CIM. Crazy? Not so much. It was an amazing weekend with epic music, booty-shakin' dancing, falling in love with a new artist (Kate Gaffney rocks!) a stolen car, not a single glance at the WS lottery results, a freezing cold (and fairly slow) run through Sac, 3 amazing cups of hot chocolate, Christmas shopping, donating 13 inches of red hair to locks of love, and a 4-and-a-half hour drive up I-80 through a frigid storm.

I didn't arrive home until 6:00 Sunday night, and after all that, I blew off my school work in favor of a glass of wine and an early bed time. I was blessed Monday morning with the best gift yet - a snow day. (Dear God, I am so sorry I ever doubted your existence. I take it all back. Thank you!)

Digging out a pair of Subaru's is always better with hot coffee in hand!

And snow days are one of the special beauties of life in the mountains. It's like a bonus vacation day. Sure, you spend half the day doing snow removal, but I just consider it cross-training. I also caught up on my grading, sat around drinking coffee with my sweetie, and took the dogs cross country skiing through the snowy streets of Truckee.

I love living up here. I love the snow, and all the craziness that comes with it. And you know, I guess birthdays aren't so bad either.

Fresh tracks in the Sugar Bowl backcountry, 12-7-09. (Unfortunately, this is not me!)

The Rock 'N River Marathon

At this point, I feel like writing about approximately a thousand other things besides Reno's Rock 'N River Marathon, held not this past Sunday, but the one before. It wasn’t exactly a banner day for me, nor was it really an important race on my schedule. It was, however, the inaugural event, and there are a few things about the day that bear mentioning. Since the rain compelled me to leave my camera at home, I fear this report won’t be too exciting. I’ll do my best to keep it straightforward, but as we know, brevity is not one of my bigger talents.

After four straight weekends of racing, I’d planned on the Rock ‘N River Half Marathon mostly because it was a local event, and I had heard good things about its first running, last year. In one of my typical oversights, I missed the online registration and thus found myself making the drive to Harrah’s on a rainy Saturday morning in order to register at the expo.

The registration line was moving painfully slowly, and as I stood there waiting, I tried to remember why I was running this race. Oh yeah: It was supposed to be fun. Still, I reasoned, a full marathon distance had been added this year and I could run that. Why was I running only the half again? I couldn’t remember. I had just decided that I wouldn’t run the full marathon because I couldn’t afford the entry fee, when I reached the front of the line.

Me: How much more does it cost to enter the marathon?

Volunteer: $5

Me: (incredulous) Really?

Volunteer: Yup. $45 for the half, and $50 for the full.

Me: Oh heck, sign me up for the full.


It seemed like a good idea at the time.

By the time 5:00 am Sunday morning rolled around and I was driving through an absolute torrential downpour to Reno, I finally remembered why I was only supposed to run the half: It was my fifth week in a row of racing, and I don’t really like road races anyway. Plus, I was still in an unexplained funk that had plagued me for weeks now, and I was having flashbacks to CIM in 2001 when I had forced my friend Charlie to fly down from Seattle to run through a hurricane with me for our slowest and most painful road marathon ever. I realized, with an impending sense of doom, that I was a little burned out on racing.

The rain was mercifully lighter in Reno, and runner’s gathered underneath the “Reno: Biggest Little City in the World” archway which served as both the start and finish lines. When it was time to line up, I looked around to see that there were only about 100 runners in the full marathon. This did not help my less-than-positive attitude about the day. I did, however, spot Reno’s own bad-boy, Lynyrd Skynrod jog up to the starting line followed by a gaggle of paparazzi angling for a shot. I enthusiastically went up to say hello, and was rewarded with a somewhat distracted response. I guess he didn’t recall that we’d spent what I personally felt was a memorable afternoon together in the casino last spring. Either that or he was just focused on the race.

I managed a quick hello to Turi, who was running the half, before we were off. The route for the first half of the marathon followed the same course as the half-marathon. It was a pleasant out-and-back, westbound along the Truckee River bike path. Upon reaching the Patagonia Outlet, runners looped back towards the start in Downtown Reno. Some people find out-and-back courses to be boring, but I don’t mind them. I think we got the most scenic running near downtown Reno, and I always enjoy seeing the runners passing in the opposite direction and cheering them on.

In only the first few miles it came to my attention that I was in 5th place. With such a small field, it’s difficult to be unaware of one’s place. The third and fourth place women were less than 20 yards in front of me, but I tried not to focus on that fact. I was already running too fast, having run miles one and two in 7:35 and 7:42 respectively. By mile four I had finally eased my way back to 8:00 pace, still in sight of third place.

I saw Lynyrd running toward me with a huge lead on the men’s field. I cheered him on, and he gave me a nasty scowl. Since Lynyrd is known for flipping off his cheering hordes, I rather thought his restraint here was a positive statement on his feelings for me.

The rain picked up again, and my wet shorts started to bunch up uncomfortably. I tried to focus on staying relaxed, but it was fairly lonely out there. At mile eight, the third place woman stopped to tie her shoe. I passed her and never saw her again.

On the run back toward downtown we began to see the half-marathon runners coming toward us. They had started at 7:00, a half hour after the marathon start. There were clearly far more participants in that race, and they cheered me enthusiastically. It felt good, and I did my best to return the support.

Eventually the lead men in the half-marathon came up behind me. I was grateful for someone to lead the way, since the runners coming toward me were now quite spread out, and the course wasn’t exactly what I would describe as well-marked. Nearing the halfway point, volunteers kept cheering and telling me I was “almost there.” I kept amending, in my head, “almost halfway.” Clearly someone forgot to tell them there was a marathon going on.

I was a little concerned about where to go since everyone around me was finishing the half. Fortunately when the split in courses approached, someone yelled from behind me to keep right. This was lucky, since this turn wasn’t marked at all that I could see.

Now running down a rainy, desolate street in Reno, I was really nervous about where to go. There were cones everywhere, but many of these were marking construction zones, and it was confusing. I approached an intersection with total bewilderment when a motorcycle cop appeared out of nowhere to lead me, lights flashing, through the next few turns. I felt like kind of a rock star with my own police escort.

Finally, I was back on the bike path. This stretch of the course was another out-and-back along the Truckee River bike path, this time eastbound toward the city of Sparks. I still felt fine, but I was well aware of the fact that I had been running too fast and I would undoubtedly pay the price later. I plugged into my ipod to help myself relax through the lonely miles.

The rain had stopped for the moment, and I focused on trying to keep my splits even. They had aid stations at every mile, which I thought would be a bit excessive even on a hot day. On this cold, rainy day I only grabbed a cup of water from every third aid station.

When I saw the race leaders heading back, I was somewhat dismayed to see that Lynyrd was not among them. I wondered what happened to him. He was nowhere to be seen.

There weren’t really any course markings at this point, but the instructions were clear enough: Stay on the bike path. Still, for a trail runner who is used to the reassuring sight of pink ribbons every 100 yards or so, I found it difficult to trust myself that I was going the right way.

Approaching the turnaround at mile 20, I was a bit confused. My watch said I had run 4:30 for that mile—clearly laughable. After returning to the aid station at mile 19/21 I had clocked yet another 4:30 mile. Wow, I was on fire! It seemed obvious that the course must be short. I wondered if maybe they had just misplaced a few mile markers, but the overall distance was still accurate. After looking at my splits though, I can’t see how that’s possible.

I had seen the second place woman near the turn around, less than two minutes ahead of me. I figured I may as well focus on catching her, if for no other reason than to have something to do. I knocked out two 7:30 miles in a row. When I still couldn’t see her, even off in the distance, I began to lose heart. I could see that I was on pace to be very close to my PR, but I wasn’t sure the course was accurate and didn’t want my PR to have an asterisk by it.

The rain started coming down hard again. I started to tighten up, and my body kicked into “just get there” mode, averaging 8:45’s for the last three miles. I came into the finish with a small horde of kids finishing the kid’s 1 mile fun run, which was both kind of fun and a little weird. Again, it seemed that no one realized there was an actual marathon going on here.

I grabbed my change of clothes and immediately headed into the casino to get out of my wet things. The flashing lights and constant ringing of the slot machines mesmerized me momentarily before I shook off the dazed and confused moment to search out the restrooms. A casino is a very surreal place to be after a running event!

After changing my clothes and cleaning off the chocolate GU that had apparently been smeared across my face for approximately the last 17 miles, I ventured back outside to see if I could grab my award for third place and bail. After some discussion with other front runners and the person in charge of awards, it seems there had been prize money advertised but there actually wasn’t any. Since I hadn’t known about it, I wasn’t too bothered. I did however check the website and the race flyer later that day, and they did indeed claim to give cash prizes for 1st-3rd places. That seemed to solve the mystery of what happened to Lynyrd Skynrod: He must have heard about the lack of prize money partway through the race and figured there was no point in finishing.

I wasn’t feeling too hot about my day, although I wasn’t sure why. I finished in 3:28—about the same time I ran at Surf City. That day had been a much more enjoyable experience, but then, it had been a much different race: more runners, perfect weather, better pacing by me, and family waiting for me at the finish line. Today’s race I had begun with no plan or expectations whatsoever, which resulted in this competitor running too fast in the early miles and not feeling so hot in the second half. It’s interesting that I ran the same time at both races, but with such different race strategies and such a contrast in how I felt afterward.

I decided it was the least I could do to cheer on the other lonely marathon runners still finishing in the rain, and I stood at the deserted finish line and clapped until my teeth chattered.

Full results here.

Since this was only the second year of the half marathon, the first year of the full marathon, I thought I’d offer my thoughts on what I liked about the event and what I think could be improved upon for next year.

Likes:

• Reno promotes itself as a race destination. Yay Reno!
• Course is scenic, mostly following the Truckee River. Loved starting and finishing under the Reno archway. Very cool photo ops!
• Great price for the marathon!
  
• Many aid stations (maybe too many?) with friendly volunteers
• Separate shirts for men and women, so I actually got one that fit and with a cute design. Also, shirts were a good, tech fabric.

Maybe next time we can…

• Have a few bands. What happened to the “Rock” part of “Rock ‘N River”? Did they really mean the rocks on the riverbed or something?
• Make sure the course is measured accurately. I don’t know for sure that it was short, but even if it wasn’t, there were a few mile markers that were way off.
• Don’t offer prize money if there isn’t any. This is very poor form. The truth is, a quality event shouldn’t need prize money to attract a lot of runners.
• Make sure the course is very clearly marked. There seemed to be a general lack of course markings. (Made up for by private police escort though, in my case!)

Overall, I think this event will be a great one for Reno. The course is flat, fast and scenic, and even though everything wasn’t perfect, it seemed like there was a professional crew there who will turn this into a stellar event. Especially if they can order up better weather in future years.

Thanks to the volunteers and Race Directors for all the hard work and being out there for us in the rain!

Lynryd Skynrod: An Interview with "The Real Deal" from Reno

One of my favorite things about running (and blogging) in recent years has been all of the wonderful people I have met. Most running events, and ultras in particular, are imbued with friendly positive vibes and the runners who radiate them. We runners can be competitive, sometimes that’s part of the fun, but after the race everyone seems quick to offer each other a heartfelt “good job.” Smack-talking is frowned upon, and even elite racers can often be seen near the finish line long after their own race is done, cheering for the mid-packers. Race reports on blogs extol the virtues of fellow runners, race directors, volunteers, course markings, scenery, race schwag, you name it.

And then there’s Lynyrd Skynrod.

Proudly hailing from Reno, NV, Skynrod burst on to the local racing scene in 2007 with impressive finishes at the Squaw Mtn. Run and Reno Journal Jog as well as a win at the Tahoe Triple. Sporting slicked black hair, a handlebar moustache and a Marlboro dangling from his lip, Skynrod is anything but your typical runner. Although he’d look more at home among a pack of Hell’s Angles or NASCAR fans than on a marathon starting line, looks can be deceiving.

Lynyrd Skynrod on his home turf (photo courtesy of coach Jackson Fairbanks)

Skynrod can claim bragging rights to a marathon PR of 2:39, although he claims that will drop following this Sunday’s Tahoe Marathon. His best posting in the half-marathon distance came last spring when he won the Rockin’ River Half Marathon in Reno with a time of 1:12:52. Last fall, he also claimed victory in the Tahoe Triple, with a cumulative time of 8:33 for the three marathons.

Clearly Skynrod is more than just a one-hit-wonder on the racing scene, but what can we learn from this elusive character? I tracked him down at the Gold Dust West casino after last Saturday’s Reno Journal Jog to find out.

I have to admit, I was initially intimidated about approaching Lynyrd Skynrod. A friend of mine, who is a speedy local runner himself, recently confided to me, “That Skynrod guy is a total ass!” Nonetheless, I was intrigued by this aberration among runners. I knew enough to ply him generously with Jim Bean, and after enough shots and a few beers, the words were flowing like the sewers through Reno after a summer storm.

It only took 3 shots to convince Lynryd that I was not actually Emma Garrard of the Sierra Sun, and to start talking

When did you start running? Have you always been athletic?

Course I’ve always been athletic. I been racin’ since I was 11, dirt bikes that is. I kicked ass ’til that one time I endo’ed onto some razor wire fencing and ripped open the tendons in my left wrist. Didn’t heal right. Never used them breaks much for dirt bikin’ anyway but once the circuit hears you don’t got no stoppin’ power, you end up blacklisted from all their events for liability reasons. I heard you also get blacklisted if you’re suspected of substance abuse.

Do you prefer roads or trails?

The hippies can have their trails. Motorcycles, cars, and people all go faster on fresh, clean, asphalt. I’m a big fan of all things fast and a marathon on the dirt is just never gonna be as fast as a marathon on pavement. Maybe I’ll change my mind if they ever move NASCAR onto a dirt track. That’s not a bad idea, but as it is there ain’t a monster truck driver who stands a chance against Dale Jr. and I’m pretty sure that’s cause it’s a dirt sport.

What do you do with your time besides training and racing?

Yer lookin’ at it. I prefer a cold one and a smoke to any kind of work or hobby. Of course I’ve got a few business ventures on the side to supplement the race winnin's but my associates don’t appreciate me talkin' about ‘em in public. Don’t need to bring the dang Feds sniffin’ around again.
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How do your friends and family feel about your running? Are they supportive and do they come to races?

I'm gonna be honest with you. I don’t like reporters and questions and such and you ain’t a reporter I guess so you got that goin’ for you, but why does everybody gotta ask me about my family? Do I look like a family man to you? I gave some square fella that story once and I don’t feel like repeatin’ it, but I will tell you this: you won’t see any blood relative of mine at any races. Friends? I haven’t been able to lure any of them out to any races yet and I can tell you exactly why. No incentives. Not one of these races have a damn beer garden at the finish. The entry fees are so high at some of these things that you could buy a keg with the money collected from one runner, but instead the organizers are blowin’ it on charities and pocketin’ the rest from what I can tell.

What’s so great about living and running in Reno?

What’s so great? Best damned city in America’s all. I like to think of it as one of the last great waterin' holes in all the US of A, where the danged government and stupid liberals haven’t yet taken away all our freedoms. Yep, an oasis of freedoms is what it is. Course they did come over and started taken away smokin' indoors couple years ago, and technically prostitution isn’t legal in this county either, but you can see what I’m gettin' at.

Um, okay, and the running?

Nope, they haven’t taken that away yet.

What are some of your favorite races and places to run?

Shoot, in Reno? I can’t think of anywhere that’s not good for runnin'. You got Virginia St, McCarran Blvd, 4th street, and there’s probably 15 miles of paved river trail, which is not only good for runnin' but there’s sections that are ideal for squattin’ if you’re down on your luck. You also got easy access to Glendale Blvd and that spot where contractors’ll pick you up and pay you cash for carrying their heavy crap. You hear what I’m sayin’? Cash, and then Uncle Sam can’t get his dirty mitts on it. That’s right.

What is your preferred distance?

That’d be the one with the cash prize. 'Round here I suppose that'd be the marathon and the half marathon. Jackson says “I cater your training to the marathon” so I s’pose that’s what I prefer. Mostly I just prefer to earn some extra money to keep me livin’ the good life.
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What is atypical training week like? Do you cross train, or just run?

Yeah, Jackson’s got me on a runnin' schedule and I stick to it when he’s around. Usually there’s a few days of speed work, where he chases me around on a damn bike with a taser for when I fall off pace. Then we do pain threshold drills on those days too. There’s board drills, bamboo drills, badger snare drills, and some others. I’m pretty sure he got the idea for those while he was a P.O.W. Do drills count as cross training? Then I get to recover the rest of the week and do what Jackson calls the “unnecessary and overly common long run on pavement” on Sunday.

Tell us about your diet. What are your favorite foods for training and racing?

I think Dog n' a Draft is the official meal of Reno these days, and the price is right. You know what’s hot now, though? Energy bars. I could go a whole day on just one of them things. These damn scientists are gonna have us eatin' outta tubes next thing you know. That’s what I’d invest in, if I were you. Tubes.

You had an impressive performance at the Tahoe Triple in 2007. What type of training did you do for the race and how did this differ from what you have done for marathon training in the past?

That season Jackson told me “We’re doin’ less speed and more endurance and pain threshold drills.” Oh man. I remember runnin' further and on pavement more often and somehow that bastard Fairbanks got a hold of one of them electric cattle prods. He called it the “whiphammer” and that damned thing would knock me flat on my back. Training like that’ll make a man grateful to only have to do three marathons in a row.

I noticed there are photos on the Tahoe Triple website of most of the champions from the past three years except you. Why do you think that is?

That’s probably cause I like to keep a low profile. Hell just the other day some bald guy comes up to me and says "You Lynyrd Skynrod? You’re like the Kaiser Soze of runnin’. I got the RGJ callin’ me trying to get a hold of you." Now, I didn't know who that bald man was and I’m not positive about who this Kaiser Soze fella was, but I’m pretty sure he led the German army in WWI. And that’s exactly what I’m sayin’ to you. I’m in your face like a blitzkrieg.

In an article last spring in the Sierra Sun, Emma Garrard suggested you could be the alter ego of a local runner from Truckee. How do you respond to such allegations?

I get that kinda crap all the time, and now they’re callin’ me a Californian. When you’re in the spotlight you gotta be ready to get slammed with the lowest of insults. Like Jackson says, “Lynyrd, you gotta rise above,” and that’s what I plan to do.

So, d’ya know where she lives?

What goals do you have for the Tahoe Marathon this weekend?

Let’s see, I got’em on a piece of paper here somewhere. Okay, 5:55 per mile for the first 5 miles and then pick it up from there. Jackson says that pace should win it and if I’m feelin’ spry, I could go for the course record. Course record’s 2:28 I believe.

What’s next for you? What races are on your list and what are your goals?

I know Jackson has plans for me. He talks about havin' me set that world record in the Triple Marathon and havin' me qualify for the Olympic Trials in the marathon. This year isn’t the year for either of those things though. Right now just this Tahoe marathon and then maybe a few more half marathons in the spring. I figure marathoning’ll be our focus for the next few years. Fairbanks knows I’m not fond of leaving this state so I don’t know why he thinks I’m willin’ to go to any of those other marathons. Lake Tahoe is plenty far into California and hell will freeze over before I cross those damn mountains to the west. He keeps sayin’ “what about the Vegas marathon?” and I keep tellin’ him everybody knows Vegas is really just Los Angeles sprawl. Then he says “What about St. George? That one’s fast and it's only about as far out of Nevada as Tahoe,” and I keep tellin’ ‘im any state tha’s known for religion makes me nervous and that town's even named for a saint.

Well, that’s all Lynyrd would give me before he became more interested in smacking the cocktail waitress on the ass, but I was pretty pleased with our interview overall. (Especially considering Lynyrd rarely speaks to the press.)

I will always prefer the elite runner who wants to stick around the race and cheer for others over guys like Lynyrd, but I can appreciate that he is shaking up the scene a bit. It goes against the mindset of most ultra-runners, but in Lynyrd’s world, nice guys really do finish last, and there’s no prize money for second place. (Most of the time there's none for first either, but I didn't want to point that out to Lynryd.)

One other thing I learned: watch out if you’re going to spend an afternoon in a casino with Lynyrd Skynrod. To my chagrin, I was incapable of driving myself home after the interview and I had gambled away all of my cash for cab fare. Andrew was not pleased when he had to drive to Reno to pick me up, and it didn’t go a long way toward convincing him that running is not a crazy stupid sport.

Lynryd enjoys a typical post-race meal after the Reno Journal Jog