Why we all Love the Way Too Cool 50K

Frog cupcakes! Who doesn't love frog cupcakes!?

I know some of you deny it – you call it the “Way Too Crowded” and turn up your noses. You say, “I just can’t deal with the conga line,” but you still show up to spectate. You train on the course with your buddies, who are all registered to race, and discuss the prospects of Max or Varner or this-years-new-thang. You pretend otherwise, but just like the rest of us, you totally love the Way Too Cool.

Jenelle, Jamie, and Sarah keep warm before the start of the 2013 Way Too Cool.

Cool is many things to many different people. For some, it serves as an early season benchmark. Where do I stand after a winter of semi-slothdom? For others, its friendly terrain makes for perfect first-time ultra racing. Because I run Cool year after year, it works well as a measurement of my own progress as a runner over the years. For those of us from the Tahoe and Reno areas, heading down the hill the first week of March is also a springtime ritual that beckons us with warm sunshine to break from the winter chill. Because it seems that the entire NorCal ultra community turns out for this race, it is also the pinnacle of socializing this time of year, second only to summertime's Western States.

What were some of my best Cool experiences? Back in 2011, going sub-5:00 was a big deal, and I was pretty stoked to get there. Let’s not forget the shit-storm outhouse-search of 2012. Most hilarious race report ever, I’m pretty sure. There were the quivering quads of 2014 which resulted in both my course PR (4:44) and the most painful post-race leg cramping I’ve ever experienced. That’s what happens when you run hard while under-trained, friends! Last year was the I’ve-barely-trained-so-I’m-running-without-a-watch-and-pretending-I-don’t-care year. It was a pretty good strategy that garnered me a 4:50 without too much trouble.

This will be my sixth year running this iconic trail test. With that in mind, I have some highlights and tips for those of you who will be toeing the line with me on Saturday. Here are some things to enjoy and things to watch out for:

• Newbies: Don’t go out too fast! That first paved mile gets sub-looney really easily. Take the 8-mile loop to get your legs and warm up.

• Veterans: Go out fast! No kidding. It’s easy to get caught behind the mob. When I ran a 12 minute PR to go 4:44, I shaved 8 of those minutes off in that first 8-mile loop. Apparently I’d been taking it too conservatively.

• Use caution on that downhill between the first aid station and the Quarry Road aid. It’s a good place to use your refined downhill technique, but it’s also a good place to blow out your quads if you hammer it too hard. I always feel like people hammer this part, and I clean them up later after mile 20.

• Drink-up at Maine Bar. They say it’s only 4.3 miles from there to the ALT aid station, but I swear to God it’s more like 8. I can never make that distance on one bottle without running dry and cramping as a result. That stretch is the sole reason I carry two water bottles at Cool. It takes FOREVER to get to ALT.

• After ALT though, it’s all gravy. You can spend this long, smooth, slightly downhill stretch of trail passing people like mad because you paced yourself well. Right?

• Always run that last 1.4. It’s uphill, yes. You hurt, I know. Suck it up. The finishline will get there so much faster if you run it. It’s only 1.4 miles! Don’t stop at the aid station – just go. At the end, friends await.

Get a good night's sleep, a good parking place, and I’ll see you all bright and early on Saturday!

Cupcakes and beer with Jenelle at a Way Too Cool finish celebration

Studying the Past; Defining the Future

Life can only be understood backwards,  but it must be lived forwards.
                                                                 -Kierkegaard


One of my wish-it-could-happen-but-never-will-so-don't-get-your-hopes-up goals for 2014 is to be more efficient, and I thought I would jump right in with an efficient blog post combining a look back at 2013 with a look ahead to 2014. Some people say efficiency is just another word for laziness, but other people say "work smarter, not harder." Besides, if I don't combine the posts, at the rate I'm going, you won't hear about my 2014 goals until 2015.

If I were a coach talking about a team, I'd say 2013 was a rebuilding year. Of course, we all know what that's code for.

I had some mysterious health problems and not a lot of focused training. It was not a spectacular year of racing. I was explaining this to a friend when my husband interrupted.

"Didn't you run a marathon PR this year?"

Uh ... oh yeah.

It's a good thing I have someone in my life to help me keep perspective.

So with that, here are some of the highlights (both good and bad) of 2013:


Eugene Marathon

The week before this seemingly miraculous PR, I also ran a course PR at the Escape From Prison Hill half marathon - a race I've run probably five or six times. So the takeaway - apparently I was in good speed shape. I managed a 3:11 marathon (an 8 minute PR) on pretty low-mileage training. Three cheers for track intervals! Not only did I feel awesome throughout the race, but I got to spend a beautiful weekend with my dear friend, Charlie. Also interesting: the highlight of my year running-wise came only three months in. It was so long ago, no wonder I forgot it happened in 2013!

Red-faced, happy 3:11 marathoner!

Spring and Summer Races and Adventure Runs

I followed up Eugene with another year at Reno's awesome Silver State 50K. There was plenty that bore mentioning about that race, like sharing several enjoyable miles with the lovely Katie Trent (who, by the way, blew by me in the last 5 miles to kick my butt!), and teaming up with another woman to push each other on the final 10 miles of downhill. However, among other ways that I was a slacker, I didn't do a lot of blogging this year, so no race report.

I didn't write a report for Utah's Squaw Peak 50M either. Nonetheless, it was a highlight because it was my first race in Utah, my first time in the Wasatch, and a perfect destination race to enjoy with my best friend. In fact, Jamie and I ended up running most of that race together, which is another reason it makes the highlight reel. In addition to being a challenging and beautiful race, I also experienced probably the best aid station treat I'd ever had at the first aid station - pigs in a blanket with fresh cooked pancakes and sausages doused in maple syrup. Oh my God. So. Good.

This year at the Tahoe Rim Trail 50M did not disappoint, of course. Heat, friends, and a mad finishing dash for a Western States qualifier. An excellent day, followed by a night of aid station volunteering for the 100 mile runners. I did manage to put together a race report for this one!



The Summer of Joy

This was the first summer in 10 years as a teacher that I did not pick up a summer job. The plan was to spend as much time with family as possible, and boy did we! My sister took to calling it the Summer of Joy, and it was awesome. A week in Yosemite, a week at the beach in Monterey, a week visiting family in Seattle, a trip to Minnesota for Andrew's HS reunion, and another week in SoCal. Whew! My only complaint is that it all went by too fast.

Laura, me, Jamie, at Mirror Lake, Yosemite.

High country long run with Jamie in Yosemite. I swear the twin outfits were not planned!!

Gettin' high on Yosemite granite with my sweetie.

Road ride along Monterey Bay.

Brugman Family Jam at the beach house.

Kite flying available here, all week long.

Surf's up! Sis and I head for some beginner breaks. 

Kayaking the Elkhorn Slough. So much fun with up close encounters with playful sea otters!

Birdwatching beachside with sis.

Family portrait at the beach house.

Ian and me playing wave tag. Best game ever! The goal was not to get wet, but we figured out it was way more fun if we just let the wave get us.

Campfire on the beach!

Campfire in the backyard! (In Truckee)

Road trip! Truckee -->Seattle

Seattle! (You can tell because it's raining.)

Family reunion in Seattle. That's a lot of Brugmans!

Seattle -->Truckee. Dad flew us home, so no road trip this time.

Shakespeare on the lake, Tahoe. An excellent version of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Truckee Thursdays!

High school reunion, Edina, MN.

The Year of Living Painfully

If the best part of last year was the Summer of Joy, it was countered by the worst part: a continuation of the mysterious abdominal pain that has plagued me periodically since just before Hardrock in 2012. I learned a lot of things this year, even if the answer to my problem still eludes me. I learned a ton about nutrition, a little about alternative medicine, and more than I ever wanted to know about the digestive system. I also learned how important it is to have good health insurance. Thank goodness mine is good!

The long and the short of the story is that we are still monitoring the situation and are without any definitive answers, although a lot of things have been ruled out. I spent a lot of time getting tests - blood tests, upper endoscopy, ultrasound, more blood tests, another ultrasound. Probably more blood tests; I can't remember. I met my deductible and my out of pocket maximum on my insurance. Fun stuff. Then I finished off the year with surgery to remove a fibroma from my abdominal wall. Super fun.

But! I feel fine at the moment, even though I'm pretty sure my problem isn't solved. I'm running well and just appreciating each pain free day as it comes.



Looking ahead to 2014 -

It's funny how the ultra season seems so far away, and then, in the first couple weeks of December, your calendar is suddenly packed. In spite of some lingering health questions, I was still anxious to get back on the 100 mile horse. I made it through the lottery for San Diego 100, and the rest of my races fell in line nicely to lead up to it. Here's what I've got on the schedule:

Way Too Cool 50K (March 8th)
Lake Sonoma 50M (April 12th)
Miner's Revenge 26M (April 27th)
San Diego 100 (June 7)
TRT 50M (July 19)


And of course, I'll probably do the Silver State 50M to help with San Diego training, but I want to wait until all the Ultrasignup charges fade from my husband's mind before throwing another one on the credit card. December is tough on the pocket book, man!

Although I feel a bit more serious about my racing than I did last year, I'm still trying to keep my overall goals focused on other things - taking care of my health, spending time with family, and appreciating every day, even when I don't accomplish all the things I'd like.

That last one is a nod to my lack of creative outlets in 2013. I didn't write much, I only played guitar when my sister was around, and I didn't knit a single stitch. I simply had to re-prioritize a lot of the time, but the truth is, those creative outlets really help me. They help keep me from feeling frustrated and anxious. They help me focus. They fulfill some of the same job that running does for me. They make me happy! So I'm planning to do a bit more of those things in 2014, even if it's just a tiny bit, and to still appreciate and enjoy the days when I can't find the time.

I hope to see many of you out there at races. I'll be volunteering and cheering at the local races I'm not running (except TRT, where, of course, I'll be doing both), so please look for me out there, and tell me how your year is going!


Happy 2014, everyone!

Western States Weekend 2013

Heat. Bloody, ridiculous heat. The Thursday before this year’s Western States weekend, that was my biggest concern. Now, two weeks later, I just remember it all as incredibly fun, and the heat-factor as simply adding to the excitement and challenge. Easy to say, since I didn’t have to run the entire 100 miles, but still. It’s funny how that works.

As with most years, this year I did a combination of volunteering at the race, and pacing for Jamie. An awesome combination of activities for those who didn’t get a slot on the starting line.

Working the check-in table with Stan. (Photo by Chipping Fu)

Friday morning, Stan Jensen and I gave out wristbands at the check-in at Squaw Valley, allowing me to greet each of the runners and wish them luck. It was great fun because I got to chat with many friends, foreign runners, and elites alike, all of whom were excited to be there. There’s an electrical energy coursing through the runners at Western States check-in, and it’s quite contagious.

Checking in Tim.

Jenelle checks in with her crew.

By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, and it was too hot even in Tahoe, I started to worry about the heat. Jamie, with four silver buckles in four years, has been an incredibly consist runner at Western States. She’s also good in the heat, so I knew she’d do well, but triple-digit temps are going to be a huge challenge for anyone. Like me, for example. I even started to worry about my task of pacing 40 miles in the 80-90 degree temps I’d face overnight. Unlike Jamie, I tend to wilt when the mercury rises above 80.

In preparation for my pacing gig, I skipped the start and slept late Saturday morning. By the time I met up with Jamie’s crew (her husband, Jim, and friend, Nicki) in Auburn at 3:00, I felt excited and ready in spite of the heat.

Team Jamie: Nicki, Jim, and me.

Calvin cheers on his mom with his uber cool shades. "Go Mom!"

We headed to Michigan Bluff where we happily absorbed the race drama unfolding all around us. The front of the race had already gone through, but we witnessed some of our speedier friends looking strong, as well as a few elites whose races were already coming apart. We squeezed into the shade with hordes of other crews, discussing strategy for how to help Jamie when she arrived, depending on how she was feeling. I sucked down coconut water, and generally felt that there is no better way to spend an afternoon.

Waiting patiently at Michigan Bluff.

Most brilliant aid station poster ever!

Jamie’s spirits were high, which made us all happy, but she kept apologizing for being slow. Ha! We just rolled our eyes at her and assured her she was not slow. Slow is all relative, I guess. She was about 30 minutes behind her splits from previous years, but I was actually pleased with that. It meant she was wisely dialing things back a bit in the heat.

Walking Jamie out of Michigan.

By the time she arrived at the circus that is the Foresthill aid station, she was charging. She’s a master at getting in and out of aid stations quickly, and soon we were heading down toward the river together.

Leaving Foresthill

Most of the time as a pacer, I think of my job as keeping my runner company, monitoring her nutrition and hydration, and assisting with staying on-course. None of these things is very challenging with Jamie at States, so I don’t usually find pacing too stressful. This year, however, I was also paying a little more attention to her pace because I knew sub-24 in the extreme heat would be a tall order. I also had pacing duties from Foresthill to the finish, instead of just Foresthill to Green Gate, which is my usual gig. Somehow, I felt this meant I had to take things more seriously.

She made great time to the river, and the water as we crossed felt wonderful. I even wished it had been colder since, even though it was 11:30 at night, it was still painfully warm out. I would have dunked myself completely under if not for the cell phone in the top of my hydration pack.

At the far side of the river, I calculated that we had made up 15 minutes on 24-hour pace since Foresthill. I was excited! I knew if she could make up another 15 minutes by Highway 49, she still had a chance at sub-24. Although she was still passing people and moving up in the race, I could see by ALT at mile 85 that we were unlikely to make that goal. I felt like she was moving strong, but the watch is always so damn honest.

I didn’t mention the unlikelihood of sub-24 to her at this point, for fear it would take some of the wind out of her sails. I figured my job was still to keep her positive and focused on moving forward. By the time we reached No Hands, I know it had to be obvious to her, but it wasn’t until our watches actually hit 5:00, on the climb up to Robie, that she acknowledged it. And in the predawn light above the glow of the river, we kissed her sub-24 streak goodbye with a few philosophical words. Sad, but in its own way, kind of beautiful. I couldn’t criticize her for feeling a little disappointed in spite of an incredibly impressive race because I totally understood it. I would have felt the same way. But every race is different and can’t really be held to the same expectations as its predecessors. And thank God for that, or running a hundred miles might start to get boring.

Two days later, she said this Western States was her favorite. With the exception of my one time as a racer, I think it was mine, too.

At the finishline with my badass best friend.

The finish line at Placer High was its usual, emotional site of joy. I witnessed many friends make their lap around the track, and I cried every single time, starting with Jamie.

Clare, Scott, and Jamie after Scott's finish.

Was it hot? I barely remember. I just know that Jamie kicked ass and never gave up. I was lucky to be there. One of the beauties of Western States is that, even though it’s hard to get into the race, it’s so easy to be a part of it.

Lake Sonoma 50M 2012

The 2012 edition of the Lake Sonoma was characterized by talented runners, perfect weather, and a wonderful community of ultrarunners.

The race began Saturday morning on the shores of Lake Sonoma just north of the town of Healdsburg. The pre-race email had stated that the start would be at 6:30 sharp, “even if you’re still in line at the port-a-potty when the gun goes off.” Of course, that’s exactly where I found myself at 6:29.

“Oh, you can hold it!” Meghan joked as she walked by on her way to the starting line. (Clearly she hadn’t read my Way Too Cool race report.) I danced impatiently, next in line. I wasn’t skipping this pre-race necessity, even if it meant everyone started without me.

Luckily, I dashed up to Jenelle at the start just before everyone took off up the road.

We started about mid-pack so the deep field of elite runners wouldn’t suck us into their fast early pace. The first two miles were on road so that runners would have a chance to spread out a bit before hitting the singletrack. 

We climbed into the rising sun and everyone was in good spirits. This was to be my longest race of the season so far, and I was excited. Rather than tapering for this race, I made it a point to have a pretty solid week of training. It had been my spring break, and I needed to use the opportunity to get in some good mileage and some high quality workouts. A spring snow storm put a damper on my Thursday run, but otherwise, it all went as planned.

Jenelle heads up the hill with the crowd.

When we moved onto the single track, it felt like a bit of a relief. The sun streamed through the oaks, and everything was excessively green. That’s one of my favorite parts about coming out of the mountains for these spring races – the intensity of the verdant hills, the flowers, the sunshine. It’s a completely different season down there.

Singletrack love!

Everyone had warned me that this course was deceptively challenging, but I figured there’s really nothing deceptive about 10,500 feet of elevation gain. It's hard! There aren’t any serious climbs, but as you travel around Lake Sonoma, the trail goes in and out of small drainages. This means that A) There are a lot of little ups and downs, and B) You’re going to get wet.

The first creek crossing is the deepest, which isn’t a bad thing. May as well get the soaking over with right away. I was glad though, that I saw others go through before me, or I might not have been prepared to get wet all the way up to my shorts!

The course was beautiful, in spite of its rugged nature. Or perhaps that just added to it. The lake views were almost constant in the early and later parts of the race. Broad oaks kept us in the shade, and the many watersheds occasionally hid secret redwood glens.

I felt good, and spent most of the first half of the race passing people. It was a good way to go because I got to chat with so many other runners! I met a ton of new people and had a chance to briefly catch up with some old friends.

I was only three and a half hours into my race when Dakota Jones came screaming toward me on his way back to the finish. He looked strong, and hot on his heels were Tim Olson and Jorge Maravilla, who wore a big smile. It was fun to see all the race leaders charging. Joelle Vaught came bounding down a hill just chatting merrily with another runner. She seemed like she was having a blast, and I couldn’t help but smile. Some people make it look so easy.

I felt strong, and I wondered if I might not be running a bit too fast. I figured there was only one way to find out and just kept running.

There’s about a one mile loop at the turnaround, so you don’t get to see every single runner come by. I was excited then, to see Clare coming toward me shortly after I’d left the aid station.

“Clare!” I declared. “I thought you were ahead of me this whole time!” We exchanged brief words of encouragement as we ran by. A few minutes later Jenelle and I did the same.

I continued passing folks on the return trip, but now they were much fewer and farther between. I left the mile 30 aid station with Keira Henninger , whom I’d caught on the preceding climb.

“You know,” she started, “you are just so cute!”

I laughed. I mean, Keira is this beautiful SoCal runner babe, so it struck me as a little ironic that she called me cute. Still, my one previous experience meeting Keira told me that she is incredibly sweet, so I knew she was being sincere.

We chatted, and she gushed some more about how cute I am, and I laughed. Eventually I figured out that I was not who she thought I was, and I had to interrupt her.

“Um, … I’m Gretchen,” I explained shyly. Would that even mean anything to her?

Turns out she thought I was Sarah Lavender Smith. Well no wonder she thought I was cute! I ain’t got nothin’ on a girl who can do a cartwheel across the finish line to win a 50K. But I get it. It’s the pigtails.

As we headed into the downhill she started to pull ahead of me, but our parting exchange rang with me the rest of the day.

“Gretchen,” she yelled over her shoulder, “if we push, we can finish in under nine hours!”

“Nine hours?” I screeched. “No way!” It sounded impossible.

“Yes!” She insisted. “We only have 20 miles to go!”

“Okay, I’ll give it a shot!” I yelled at her swiftly receding form.

And I did. I thought “sub-9” as hard as I could. I kept Keira in sight for a little while, but she kept gapping me on the downhills, and eventually it became a solo mission.

I was pretty sure I could run the necessary pace to break nine hours, but I was really struggling to stay focused. The miles were lonely, and I kept zoning out and subconsciously slowing. I’d snap back and pick up the pace, but it was a struggle. Miles 35-45 were pretty tough, and a look at my splits confirms that this was the low point in the race for me.

Scott LaBerge, on his way to a course PR.

I was still passing folks heading out in the opposite direction, and I did my best to cheer them on. I knew their day would be much tougher than my own. One older woman gave me a delighted smile and returned my “good job.” I could just tell she was loving her day and it made me smile. I found out later it was Eldrith Gosney – 70-years-old and running 50 miles! Oh, Eldrith, when I am 70, how I hope to be you!

When I at last reached the final aid station with 4.7 miles to go, I could see that I wasn’t going to make sub-9. I declared it to a volunteer on my way out of the station.

“Well,” he said, looking at his watch, “give it a good go!”

His words were encouraging, but his tone of voice agreed with me. It wasn’t going to happen.

Jen Hemmen, loving the trail!

At the final creek crossing, I caught up with some other runners. At last! Someone in the group had a Garmin on, declared that it was 3.5 miles to the finish, and that sub-9 was totally doable.

And just like that, it was on.

I charged down the trail with energy I didn’t know I had left. Leading a small train of runners who were ready to push was all I’d needed. We flew.

Whenever we passed another runner, we encouraged him to join us. Some did, I think. I couldn’t look back for fear of eating it on the downhills. All I know is that I was suddenly feeling fabulous and running absolutely as fast as I could.

We passed Keira and I really wanted her to join us. This whole 8:XX thing had been her idea in the first place! But she’d taken a fall, and I think it had her too bummed out to run aggressively.

Garmin-guy declared one mile to go, and I checked my watch to see that I would have to run it in 9 minutes. Crap. Nothing was flat in this race, and I knew I didn’t have it in the bag yet. I started to feel a little dizzy and nauseous on the climbs and let a few runners go ahead. I could hear the finishline, but I didn’t dare look at my watch. I was afraid that it would tell me I wasn’t going to make it, and then I’d give up and slow down.

It felt like I was in a full-on sprint when I rounded that last corner to see the finishline clock ahead showing 8:59. I had just a few seconds left, but they were enough. It was another one of those big-smile-finishes, just like at Napa. I was stoked. 8:59:36, and 10^th woman.

It took about 20 minutes for the fog to clear and the burning sensation to leave my legs. By the time I changed into some dry clothes I felt capable of being social, and Paul and I exchanged notes on our races. He’d had a good day overall but had faded toward the end. We discussed how so often it’s how you run in the final miles that leave you with your predominant feeling for the day. I’d faded in the middle but finished strong and was totally giddy about my race.

Clare and Jenelle also had great races, and we sat around in the sunshine on a beautiful California day eating tamales, drinking Corona, cheering folks across the line, and feeling satisfied. One of the things I really noticed about hanging out at the finish was that this race has such a strong ultrarunning community feel to it. It’s not just that I knew a lot of people there, but also that everyone there seemed to know each other. It makes it such a supportive environment, and just a fun place to be.

It was more than just the competition that was top notch at Sonoma. Everything from the course to the aid stations to the post-race food was excellent. (Plus, there were those mysteriously age-correlated bib numbers. Very curious.) It makes sense, since Tropical John has a slew of experienced ultra veterans working hard to make it all happen. I had fairly high expectations for this race, and I have to say they were all exceeded. Thanks so much for all your work, you guys!

I also owe a huge thanks to Keira, who planted the goal that kept me going for those last 20 miles, (You’re a rock star, Keira!) and to the men who ran with me the 3 miles from the last creek. It’s amazing how you can run all day long, and then so much can happen in just 30 minutes.

I can see why this one is becoming a destination race. (And I didn't even do any wine tasting!) Lake Sonoma 50 is a keeper.

2012 Season Preview

2011 Highlight: The Placer High Track with Jamie

After last year, I promised myself I would do two things this year: race less and not run a 100-miler.

Um, … yeah.

My reasoning was that I needed a break from the stress of running a 100-miler. I know some people run these things all the time – multiple 100-milers in a year.  For me, that kind of training takes a huge amount of mental focus, not to mention time. I thought I was ready to be a bit more of a well-rounded athlete for a while – get back to some rock climbing and some mountain biking.

My motivation for racing less stemmed primarily from the fact that I completely went over my racing budget last year.

And then I got into Hardrock.

So, I figured with the “no hundo” promise out the window, I may as well give up on “less racing,” too. Sometimes you just have to celebrate reality and roll with it. The thing is, I really like racing. And, I’m aware that I typically perform better when I race more. Well, I thought Western States was a big deal, so I let myself go a little overboard on the racing last year regardless of expense. In case you’re wondering, I think Hardrock is a way bigger deal. I’m not concerned about performance like I was at States, just, you know, totally petrified about the whole thing.

So, with all that in mind, buckle your seatbelts. Here’s my 2012 racing schedule:

3/4/12 – Napa Valley Marathon

Every now and then I go through this little fantasy about how I’m going to break my marathon PR (3:26) set at Grandma’s way back in 1998, and that was the thought behind signing up for Napa. A lot of experiences have indicated that a PR is totally possible, even likely. Back in ’09 I was way into running those damn Yasso 800 workouts, and I could knock 10 of them off at 3:00 pace. Last year, in the midst of early season high mileage, I ran RiverCity as a training run in 3:27 with ease. I know it’s possible. Unfortunately, Napa is not going to be it. I am on week #2 of illness and virtually no running right now. I was in great shape at the New Year, but in recent weeks I simply haven’t put in the necessary work for a PR. Still, it’s a new course for me so it should be fun, and hopefully it will provide a good early-season workout.

3/10/12 – Way Too Cool 50K

Only six days after Napa, I’m not expecting huge things from myself at this race. Still, it’s a classic. I love the course, and I will be sharing the day with many friends. It’s going to be exactly what I need to get me excited about the upcoming ultra season.

4/14/12 – Lake Sonoma 50M

This one looked like a good course due to its 10,000’ of elevation gain. (In honor of Hardrock, this year’s training is all about vertical gain and loss.) I have a pretty serious adventure run planned for the week leading up to this, so once again, I am not expecting huge things from myself in terms of performance.Just good, solid training and fun times.

4/29/12 – Big Sur Marathon

When I was in high school and dreamed of one day running a marathon, I had three races on my dream list: L.A., Boston, and Big Sur. I ran Boston in ’96, but never made it to the others. They both fell unceremoniously off my dream list when I became a trail and ultra runner. That is, until my friend Charlie decided that, to celebrate her 40^th birthday, she wanted to run a marathon with me. I think the last time we toed the line together was that day in Hopkinton.  (Expect for that time in Seattle, which sucked, and CIM in 2001, which sucked even worse. Neither of those count.) We’re definitely due for an awesome run together, and I’m pretty stoked for this weekend.

5/5/12 – Miwok 100K

After last year’s race at Miwok, I wasn’t going to sign up for this one because I can’t imagine having a better race. Pretty lame, huh? But after I got into Hardrock, I decided I needed a 100K on the schedule to get the mileage up. Plus, this is such an awesome course! All downhill, as I recall.

6/2/12 – Pocatello 50M

This is supposed to be a gnarly course, but beautiful, and people seem to love it. Sounds like a perfect Hardrock trainer to me! I’d like to have a good day here because I think it would be a real confidence booster. I can’t take an actual taper for it, but I’ll take a couple extra rest days the week before. I’m road-tripping to this one with Jamie, and a few other cool ultra chicks will be out there as well. Ladies’ day in Idaho! Woot!

7/13/12 – 7/15/12 – Hardrock 100

I won’t bother you with a big essay on this one. (There will be plenty of time for that later!) I’ll just give you a quote about the race description from the website: “100-miles which includes 33,992 feet of climb and 33,992 feet of descent for a total elevation change of 67,984 feet with an average elevation of 11,186 feet - low point 7,680 feet (Ouray) and high point 14,048 feet (Handies Peak).”

I have a number of pacing and volunteering gigs, and big adventure runs planned as well, so the calendar is looking pretty full at the moment. Let the season begin!

Will I see any of you out there on the trails?

 

Planning Ahead

I have to confess, I have some mixed emotions about all this race planning going on right now. My race planning, that is. I find it almost as exhausting as, you know ... racing!

I actually have a couple of spring races that I've already ponied up the cash for, so I started putting together a training calendar. Part of that process entails penciling in other race possibilities. But you know what's really crowding my calendar space?

Opening registration dates!

With races selling out so quickly these days, runners have to choose races well in advance of their registrations opening, then be sure to sign up right away.

And it's not even just those dates. It's also opening (and closing) lottery dates, plus the dates of the actual lotteries. It's simply way too much to keep track of for a girl who operates strictly on Tahoe Time. It's slightly anxiety-inducing.

Although I still haven't decided about lotteries and races, (Scott has a nice list of upcoming lotteries, if you're wondering what races I'm talking about.) I've discovered that two races I do want to enter open their registration on the exact same day. At the exact same minute. Both races will sell out fairly quickly, although exactly how fast is anyone's guess, and both open their registration at midnight on New Year's Eve. 

Really? Is that what most ultrarunners do on New Years? Stay home and hover over their computers at midnight? Or perhaps you all have smart phones, and you just sign up for races while doing shots on the dance floor with the crowd. I don't know. But I'm a little concerned about this situation.

Yes, I'm looking at you, Pocatello and TRT!

On the other hand, I do enjoy dreaming, and planning is part of that process. Scheduling all these things brings some of the same discipline and order to my life that running itself does. It tames just a bit of the chaos.

Seeing a race on the calendar, even if it's still just a possibility, inspires my training. When I'm crawling, cross country, up some steep mountainside, I think about exactly which races that training will benefit. I get excited. I have purpose. I run faster.

I grin with wicked delight.

"Good Things on the Horizon" - A scene from today's long run.

What races and lotteries are on your wish list this year?