Escape from Prison Hill Half Marathon 2011

Author's note: If you're looking for my Miwok 100K report, this clearly isn't it. I have to confess that between end-of-the-school-year-craziness at work and training, I'm just exhausted. Sleep has moved up my priority list, and blogging has fallen off the bottom of it. Miwok was epic, and there WILL be a report on it. I'm just playing a little catch-up here. Look for it early next week!

Tahoe view on the drive to the start.

Saturday morning dawned clear and cold in Carson City, Nevada, as it typically does for the Escape from Prison Hill Half Marathon. I’ve run this race on three previous occasions, (in 2006, 2007, and 2009) so I know a thing or two about the course – mostly, that I LOVE it. What I didn’t know this year was that it had changed.

“Backwards?” I gawked at Abbey after she delivered the news, 15 minutes before the start.

“Yeah,” she nodded serenely. Clearly I had not looked too closely at the website this year.

Gathering at the start.

My initial thought was disappointment because I love this course so much. It’s hilly, sandy, technical and beautiful. How would the reverse in direction change things? Where were the hills now? I had no idea. I also had no time to really think about it as, soon enough, we were off the start and headed down the dirt for 13 miles.

One thing was clear to me right away: I was running much more aggressively that I had in previous years at this race. It wasn’t intentional, since I had no game plan for the day. It was just what felt right.

At about mile three we found ourselves running up a long, steep hill. My breathing came fast and desperate, and my heart hammered in my chest like it was trying to find a way out. I was a little concerned. Why was I running this hard? Sure, it’s only 13 miles, but it’s hardly a 5K! Oh well, I told myself as I passed another woman to move into second place.

I recovered almost instantly as soon as I reached the top of the hill and was in fine form to fly down the other side. I could no longer see the first place woman even though I’d used the climb to close in on her. It turned out that she dropped somewhere near the top, but I didn’t figure that out until later. The downhill was technical and it took all of my focus to maintain speed while remaining upright. Although a number of men passed me, I didn't fall and felt my downhill efforts were successful!

By the time I passed the relay exchange at the halfway point I realized I was in the lead. (People kept telling me, and I finally started believing them.) It didn’t matter too much though; I knew I was going to stay aggressive and run hard the whole way regardless of competition. Why? Because it was So! Much! Fun! I was truly having a blast at this race.

During the second major climb I passed most of the men who’d passed me on the downhill. Not only were they very gracious in moving aside for me, but I exchanged compliments with all of them. It was a very supportive group out there! We weaved our way through sagebrush encroaching on narrow desert singletrack and squinted into bright blue skies behind the snow covered Sierra. It could hardly have been a more perfect day.

By the time I hit the last 4 miles, running the technical single track at the top of the hill, I found myself moving along all alone. I kept wondering to myself why I’d skipped this race last year. I can’t remember, but I do know that I don’t plan on skipping it next year!

The final downhill into the finish was wonderful. It wasn’t too steep, and it had enough sand to absorb impact and allow some confidence in speed. I absolutely loved the speed! When I crossed the line I was all grins and giggles to see my time of 1:58. (I hadn’t worn a watch, so I had no clue as to my pace until then.) It was a 12 minute PR for the course, and I was thrilled to have broken two hours on this beast!

The final mile. If you can't tell, I'm having fun! (Photo by George Ruiz)

To be honest, I was a bit surprised with my performance. After really going for it in ’09 and coming up short, I didn’t think I would run sub-2 here. It led me to wonder a couple of things, like:

1. Has my training been geared more towards a shorter distance race than towards an ultra? That thought makes me nervous. I have no doubt that my weekly hill-repeat sessions were good training for this race, but will they still serve me well in an ultra distance race? Perhaps my hills are too short?  
2. Why am I running ultras again? I forget. Because this race was just so much fun, so much less painful than an ultra, and so fast to recover from. Mmm, something to consider here.

After the race I indulged in what I’m certain is the best post-race eats going: fresh, homemade breakfast burritos. Excellent! I stuffed my face while friends Peter and Bill chatted about the only two topics anyone seems to find of interest lately: minimalist footwear and how much snow will still be on the Western States course at the end of June. Tom Wion handed me a certificate for a pair of Montrails while we sipped sodas in the sunshine. I was a happy girl.

Extra special thanks to Steve, Tom and all the Stompers and Milers out there to help. I still love the course no matter which direction we run it!

~

The following day, Sunday, Jamie and I went for a long run in the canyons. I debated the wisdom of such a full weekend of running just one week before Miwok, but I just couldn’t give up a day in the canyons. Besides, the weather turned out to be perfect. Sunny and mild – quite a contrast to the previous weekend’s 7+ hours of running in a downpour.

I also mention this run because I need to give a huge shout out to the work crew who was there the day before us. There had been some mighty large piles of downed trees littering the trail in El Dorado, but clearly many of you put chainsaws and strong backs to work out there. THANK YOU!! That stretch of trail looks pretty shiny at this point, and I’ll appreciate every mile of it every day I’m out there!

El Dorado Creek

Trees cleared from the trail. Sweet!

Happy runners on the swinging bridge.

Walkman Winners!

A quick post tonight to announce the winners of the Sony W-Series Walkman giveaway.

Paige and Kathy Walsh! Send me an email with your address at gbrugman at hotmail.com.

Thanks so much everyone for playing! Tomorrow (or, uh, sometime soon) look for my report on Saturday's Escape from Prison Hill Half Marathon - an awesome, awesome event in true Sierra Eastside style.

Tahoe Rim Tour Snowshoe Race

Showing up to a Nordic race with snowshoes in hand is kind of like being an ultrarunner at a triathlon. You are surrounded by slim, fit athletes with the very best, top-of-the-line gear their niche sport has to offer. And you? You’re wearing a down jacket and a pair of ragged Nike tights and feeling a little self-conscious about how they make your butt look. Or maybe that’s just me.

This was the scene at the start of last weekend’s Tahoe Rim Tour, a half-marathon ski and snowshoe race from Tahoe City to Northstar resort in Truckee. In the 20 degree morning chill, I made my way towards registration across a parking lot full of lanky skiers. I plowed through a sea of Craft tights, Toko tops, and approximately a thousand Swix beanies. Don’t forget your Swix beanie!

I immediately found my friend Helen, who was signed up for the classic ski division, and confessed, “You know, I kind of wish I was skiing since I know I would finish faster, but at the same time, I’m glad I’m not, since all these people would kick my butt!” She nodded in sympathy.

At least I know my place—and that’s with the runners. The one’s who aren’t coordinated enough to be real skiers.

I found myself standing around, a bit lost because I don’t know anything about wax. Seriously, you can’t have a conversation with a Nordic skier before a race unless you know how to talk about wax. What colors, how many layers, klister or no klister. People were busy with last minute scraping and buffing, running fingers across perfect bases.

One skier did ask me about my snowshoes though, and I was happy to feign my expertise on the subject for him.

Eventually I found Jamie and Jack at the registration table, and we all made our way to the start, where we gladly let the skiers take the lead.






I had hemmed and hawed about even entering a snowshoe race this far, since my previous two racing experiences on snowshoes, both 5K, showed me the challenges of this sport. Last year Jamie had horror stories about how hard this race had been, so I couldn’t believe she was back for more. She didn’t bother trying to talk me into it, but her mere presence shamed me into showing up. Having a training partner who’s tougher than me is such a good thing!

As it turned out, we set a decent, but reasonable, pace, and Jamie and I ran together the whole way. All we did was talk and run. It was perfect! There weren’t a ton of snowshoers, but we spent our entire two hours and thirteen minutes gradually catching and passing many of them.










The weather was perfect—partly sunny, warm, but cool enough to maintain firm trail conditions. Fast!

In the last mile, I finally decided to catch this man in a blue top whom we had been seeing for the past hour. I was annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t been getting any closer to us! I kicked it up a notch and caught up to him. I immediately confessed that I’d been trying to catch him forever. There wasn’t time for a response before he zoomed ahead of me again. Ha! I was actually quite enjoying the chase.

I had nothing at all at stake, so I gave it another go. We were flying downhill, and my only concern was that I might trip and fall—a real possibility!

I caught up to him one more time, but in the end, I never did pass the guy. After we crossed the finish line, we immediately exchanged high-fives and smiles. Clearly we’d both enjoyed ourselves. I love early-season fun at races!









Post-race activities included a chili-fest, some sitting in the sun with friends, and a huge number of raffle prizes. Cash prizes were given away to skinny young people who all seemed to have names like Bjorn and Hans, and snowshoers got cash prizes, too. I came away with a sweet pair of insulated Salamon Nordic gloves.

After Jamie left, conversation seemed to center around wax again, and I decided it was time to bail. I caught the free shuttle back to the start, and realized that maybe this snowshoeing thing isn’t so bad when you have a friend to run with.

Thanks to all the skiers for putting up with the goofy snowshoers on the trail, and thanks to Farwest Nordic and Northstar for a beautiful January day!

The Lake Tahoe Half Marathon

This morning I took part in a Fall tradition here in Lake Tahoe – The Lake Tahoe Marathon events. After several years at the Marathon, and one year at the Triple, this year I thought I’d take my first go at the Half. Most of my friends gave me some justifiable ribbing about not returning to defend my title at the marathon, but I had other plans. Truth be told, I know the likelihood of ever winning that race again is slim, but I also know I’ll be back. I love that marathon!

I have another marathon coming up in a few weeks, and while I considered running the full at LTM and just “going easy,” I knew it would never happen. Well, at least I know myself. I’d convince myself I was just going to go easy, but then I’d get to the hills and start getting all competitive or something. Yup, that’s exactly how it would go down. So I decided that the safer “training run” route was to stick with the half. I could run as hard as I wanted and I knew that I would still have plenty of recovery time before my upcoming marathon.

On Saturday, I’d warmed up for the event with Jamie during a trail run in the Desolation Wilderness. It was predicted to be a very summer-like weekend, and it did not disappoint. A rugged trail run in the high-country, followed by a swim and a nap on the beach at Sand Harbor, was the perfect first half to my weekend.

Sun rise over Emerald Bay Saturday morning on my way to the trailhead into Desolation

Sunday’s race didn’t start until 10:20 A.M. so that we could finish with the mid-pack of the marathon. I’d planned to park at the starting line in Rubicon, at mile 13 of the marathon, instead of taking any of the various shuttle options. This allowed me to sleep in and get a few things done around the house in the morning. Not only was it a bit strange for a pre-race routine, but apparently all that extra time is not good for my brain. I was in a bit of a sour mood, and I spent more than a few moments contemplating skipping the race all together. Why on earth that sounded like a good idea, I’ve no clue, but fortunately I snapped out of it in time. I know from experience that such a choice would only serve to make my temperament even more acidic. Idiocy averted, I pinned on my number and headed down the West shore.

A Scottish bagpiper entertained us, until a man with a shotgun sent us barreling downhill onto the course. I stayed reasonably back from the front line so that I wouldn’t start too fast, but I took note of some of the women jack-rabbiting into the distance – one in a blue sports bra and white cap and one in a black tank top. If I ever caught up to them, I’d know I was near the front. Then, I settled in and tried to figure out how to pace myself for a half-marathon.

My splits can essentially tell the story of the elevation profile. Anything close to a 7-minute mile was downhill (miles 1, 2, 6, 8 and 9), close to a 9-minute mile was uphill (miles 3, 4 and 7), and close to an 8 was either mixed (mile 5), or it was flat and I was really tired (miles 11-13).

Mile 1: 6:45
Mile 2: 7:01
Mile 3: 8:50
Mile 4: 8:33
Mile 5: 7:29
Mile 6: 6:40
Mile 7: 8:31
Mile 8: 6:23
Mile 9: 7:08
Mile 10: 7:10
Mile 11: 7:43
Mile 12: 7:31
Mile 13: 7:30

Thanks to Turi for the following photo sequence on the Hill from Hell, at miles 3 and 4 of the half-marathon. This hill was a lot easier with only two fast miles on my legs, rather than the 15 already incurred by the full-marathon runners.



I fell in right away behind a woman in a red t-shirt that I guessed would be a great person to pace off of. She looked to be a few age groups above me, and the well-defined muscles in her legs screamed “fast!” I knew there were women ahead of us, but I wondered if she might not end up winning the event. She just had that look. I tucked in behind her up the big hill, and tried my best to hold on. She pulled away a bit, but was still within range when we reached the top. I’m typically a strong climber, so the fact that she’d made ground on me on the uphill was telling me that it wouldn’t be easy to pass her.

Miraculously I managed to do just that on the ensuing downhill. I figured I’d see her again on the next uphill, so I didn’t get too confident. I just kept plugging away, and enjoyed the intense beauty of Emerald Bay.

I downed a GU even though it was only about mile 5 or 6. I figured my stomach wouldn’t be interested much farther along than that, and breakfast felt like a long time ago. Somewhere through here I spotted Turi moving through the pack of marathoners. I was surprised to see him, so I wasn’t totally sure it was Turi, but the Running ‘Round Reno shirt confirmed it. It’s always kind of a boost to see a friendly face out there, so I was stoked.

Heading up the hill on the other side of Emerald Bay, we passed the 10K start line. That meant only about 6 miles to go. I was starting to feel it a little bit at this point, but I have to confess that it was an intensely enjoyable kind of pain. Running up that hill, I was focused on a girl in a white tank top who I was pretty sure was in the half marathon. She was running too fast to be in the marathon, and all the 10K and 5K runners were well ahead of us. I decided that with only 6 miles to go, I had nothing to lose, and I was going to enjoy pushing myself a little bit. I worked the uphill to gain here, feeling the lead as it built heavy in my legs, gazing on the crystal blue of Lake Tahoe, feeling the sun radiating on my shoulders, and smiling all the while. I reeled her in bit by bit, but I just couldn’t quite pass her. No matter. I’d thoroughly enjoyed giving it a go.



I finally saw blue-sports-bra-white-hat girl in the distance, and the white-tank-top girl and I were both catching up to her. I flew down those steep switchbacks on the South side of Emerald Bay like I never have before. Yes, I was passing the cars. (Okay, maybe that’s not saying much since those are 10 mph hairpin turns, but still, I was having a blast!)

I never did catch either one of those women, but I really enjoyed giving it my best shot. The last 3.5 miles of this course are completely flat, and I’ve always found them to be a total sufferfest during the marathon. It’s amazing what a difference is had by running only half the distance. They weren’t easy, but they didn’t feel nearly as bad this year. I made my annual quick gaze upon the brilliant spawning Kokanee salmon during a creek crossing, and headed in along the bike path to the finish.

The way these events are timed means that many race distances are finishing at once. It’s a little confusing, (as in last year, when the officials weren’t sure if I was finishing the marathon or some other race), but it does make for a very lively finish line, which is fun. Based on the women in front of me (blue-bra-white-cap, white-tank-top, black-tank top, and of course last year’s winner, Sarah Raitter) I figured my best-place-scenario was fifth. I’ll take it!

I was gathering myself for a little chill time on the beach when a marathon finisher claimed her recognition of me from my blog. How flattering! (She’s in training for her first ultra at Helen Klein in November. Good luck, Erin!) This came as a small irony in the wake of recent questioning from a fellow blogger as to whether I was ever recognized randomly from my blog. My answer, of course, being “no.” But she was also the second person that weekend to give me a shout out from the blog. I won’t even try to explain how the first guy to recognize me was the exact same guy who recognized Donald at Glacier Point a few weeks ago, which is what prompted the question about getting recognized in the first place. Has anyone else noticed that this running community is smaller (in a good way) than we give it credit for? I love runners!

My finish time of 1:38:51 felt more than acceptable. Given the fact that my PR for the distance is somewhere in the neighborhood of 1:35, (on a flat course at sea-level) I was happy to be under 1:40 here. I did indeed end up as 5th place woman and 17th overall. (Complete results here.)

My recovery routine consisted of a good soak in Lake Tahoe, a hot dog and a beer, and a stretch-out on the sand in the sun. Wow. I probably could have stayed there all day, but I could feel my crabbiness still simmering just beneath the post-race glow. I high-tailed it out of there on the first shuttle before official results had been posted.

Back home, a long dog-walk and a much-needed nap preceded a solid night of homework. After a soothingly beautiful taste-of-summer-in-fall Tahoe weekend, it was time to get back to reality.