The TRT 50 Mile Endurance Run

The first ultra I ever ran was the Tahoe Rim Trail 50K back in 2003. It was a difficult course, and since it shares 31 miles with the 50 mile course, I was very aware that this year’s 50 mile race would present a big challenge for me. When I decided not to run the AR50 back in April, I took a good look at my goals for this race. I decided 11 hours would be a good target; ambitious, maybe, but disappointment at missing my first planned 50 of the year had spurred my ambition.

The week before the race it was time to take another look at my goals. After spraining my ankle 5 weeks before the race, I knew there were some major holes in my training. I looked at some finish times from the previous years for runners I was familiar with, and closed in on a stark reality: 11 hours was out of the question. I simply had not done the training.

I knew I would like to run 11 hours on this course some day, so I kept it as a long term goal, and set my sights on 12 hours. To be honest, I wasn’t even all that sure I was ready for 12 hours, but I knew I would be disappointed with much less. I calculated splits for 12 hours and pasted them onto my water bottle alongside the splits for 11 hours which were already there. This was the first time I had figured out splits for an ultra and brought them with me, and it made me kind of nervous. I love the ultra attitude that says we are just there to have fun, but I have to admit that sometimes I am competitive and part of having fun is pushing myself.

The day before the race, Scott Dunlap had invited some folks over for some pre-race socializing. It was great because I finally got to meet Addy and Jessica. I always say “see you there” on people’s blogs, but honestly it’s hard to find people you’ve never actually met before at 6am on the starting line. It’s so much fun to talk with people who are doing the same thing, and don’t respond by telling you you’re crazy. So thanks Scott! Unfortunately we didn’t get to meet Christie and Sophie, but maybe next time.

Fellow running Bloggers Addy, Scott and Jessica

I arrived at the parking area at 5:00 am on race morning, and by the time I caught the shuttle to the start it was 5:15. It turned out to be the perfect amount of time to tape my feet, get my drop bags ready, slap on some sunscreen and get to the pre-race briefing at 5:50. I found Addy and Jessica at the start, and suddenly it was time to go! The crowd moved off, and when I checked to see if Addy was still with me, I saw her still standing at the start talking to her dad. Clearly she was not stressed about running her first ultra!

I spent most of the first 6 miles to the Hobart aid station wondering if I was starting too fast. There is a lot of gradual climbing, and I ran most of it. It was chilly and running kept me warm, plus that extreme taper had my legs desperate for some running! The sight of Marlette Lake with the sun coming up, surrounded by granite boulders and purple lupine was breathtaking. As we left the lake the climb became steep enough to hike.

I arrived at the Hobart aid station right on the mark for 12 hour pace. Completely crestfallen that they were serving Gatorade, I filled my bottle with half water and half Gatorade, despite a volunteer’s assurances that it was already mixed at half strength. My stomach just does not do Gatorade. Since the website showed the race was sponsored by Hammer, I just assumed they would have Heed to drink. I usually drink only an electrolyte drink, no water, in my bottle. GU2O is my standard, but I can do Cytomax or Heed as well. Gatorade was going to put a hitch in my race plan.

Scott Dunlap at Tunnel Creek aid station

Somewhere between Hobart and the next aid station at Tunnel Creek I fell in behind a woman and the guy who was in front of her. We got to chatting and soon discovered that she and I were both hoping to run 12 hours. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

At Tunnel Creek I picked up my second water bottle, dropped my long sleeved shirt, and discovered that I hadn’t put the bag with my GU and Clif Shot Blocks in my drop bag. It was simply destined to be a day where my stomach had to adjust to new race foods. I also grabbed a bag of Salt Stick electrolyte caps from my drop bag and shoved them into my pocket. I rarely take these, but figured they would help compensate for drinking only water instead of GU2O. Soon we were off to conquer the Red House Loop.

Marlette Lake and Tahoe viewed from Marlette Peak

Tate, my new 12 hour running partner, caught up to me shortly down the trail after I stopped to pee. We had a great time. People will tell you how awful this loop is, but honestly it’s not that bad. We cruised the down hill and were at the aid station in no time. I had to remove the last of the tape on my toes, as it seemed to be doing more harm than good. (Note to self: test out new taping methods on a run longer than 3 miles!) Tate stopped to wait for me, and at the time it made me feel a bit guilty. Eventually I realized we had actually become a team out there, and this turned out to be the biggest blessing of the day.

Back at the Tunnel Creek station I shoved down some food, and stuffed my pockets full of Hammer Gel. It was 9 miles to the Mt. Rose aid station where we would turn around and come 9 miles back. There was one aid station at 4.5 miles, but it was water only. This was the only section of trail I had never run on, and I was curious about how it would go. Tate and I kept up a steady stream of conversation, now and then joined by other runners. The views of Lake Tahoe were beautiful, and all I could think about was going for a swim. I learned that Tate is from Bend Oregon, and had traveled down to the race with a whole crew of folks running, including one of the top men in the 100 race Sean Meissner. She also works with Rod Bien who had finished 2nd in last years 100 race. She clearly has some great mentors and a supportive ultra community in Bend. I found myself quite envious!

Me, leaving Tunnel Creek (photo courtesy of Jessica)

Soon we saw the 100 mile leaders coming back from Mt. Rose. First was Jasper Halekas. To be honest, the only reason I even recognized him is because he was wearing the same thing he wore at Silver State. (So was I, so I’m not making fun of him!) He looked so relaxed, and he appeared to have a solid lead already. Eventually a few more men came through, including Sean. Not far behind that group Scott Dunlap came by looking speedy, and as usual having a great time. I gave a few words of encouragement, and Tate gave a jolt of recognition, shouting “Scott Dunlap! I love your blog!” at his retreating figure. I laughed. He’s like a running celebrity! Down the trail I also said hi to Jack Driver, a local runner from Donner Summit, and Chet Fairbanks from Reno, who I had run with a bit at Silver State. These races with turn around points are great for socializing! After the turn around we also saw Catra Corbett who promised me she was returning to the PCT on Monday. Go Catra!

Tate had a great system set up for taking food and electrolytes. (Maybe this was a tip from Rod?) The timer on her watch was set to go off every 30 minutes, at which point she ate a GU. Those 30 minute intervals kept coming around so quickly, it didn’t take me long to decide that I should eat when she eats, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be eating enough. With every other GU she took an electrolyte cap, and I quickly got on that plan as well. Having the timer set really helped us keep track, and it also convinced me to force down a gel even when I didn’t want it, which was a good thing. I will definitely be taking this tip to my next race!

Nearing the Mt. Rose aid station, Tate ran out of water. This surprised me, since I had plenty of water left. Maybe I wasn’t drinking enough? I gladly gave her one of my bottles, still ¼ or so full. Upon reaching the aid station I slathered on a bit more sunscreen and grabbed a popsicle. Although truthfully, a smaller popsicle would have been welcome, I just can’t pass up these treats. It melted all over me as I ran with it, but fortunately there was a creek where I could rinse off. With Tate by my side, the miles continued to fly, and we were back at Tunnel Creek still feeling good. I couldn’t believe we only had 15 miles left! This time it was Tate’s turn to help me out with a donation of Clif Blocks since my stomach wasn’t really interested in much more.

Ever since the Red House Loop we had been coming into the aid stations right around 11 hour pace. Sometimes we were a few minutes ahead, sometimes a few minutes behind. I knew that the 8 miles from Tunnel Creek to the Snow Valley Peak aid station could be pretty slow, so I wasn’t counting on anything yet. Tate said she did not want to know our pace, so I had to keep my thoughts to myself on this one. I figured I would just wait and see where we were time-wise when we left the Snow Valley aid station, and decide on a goal at that point. We cruised through Hobart in good time just as Jasper came through in the opposite direction, still leading the 100 mile race.

The wind at the top of Snow Valley Peak was brutal. I had my visor cinched down tight, and tried to pick out some food that wasn’t completely coated in dirt. That was a losing battle, but really, what’s a little dirt? I thanked the volunteers here profusely because it did not look like fun to be sitting there getting dirt blown in to every crevice of your being by the howling wind. Tate was in full agreement that we get out of there as soon a possible, and we began the 7 mile descent to the finish.

We were about 15 minutes behind 11 hour pace at this point. I knew it might be possible to make up the time, but I also knew it would be close. Tate still didn’t want to know our pace, but I was definitely on a mission for sub-11 by now. We picked our way through some technical sections, still feeling good. I could definitely feel the downhill in my quads, but when it wasn’t too steep I tried to push the pace a little. We had snippets of conversation with every 100 mile runner that we passed, and we both had to profess our admiration for them. I was so glad I didn’t have another lap to do after this!

As my watch said 10:45 and the Spooner aid station was no where in sight, I started to realize I wasn’t going to make it. I had pulled a little ahead of Tate, and convinced myself if I passed the aid station, which was 1.5 miles from the finish, by 10:47 maybe I still had a shot. It turned out that there was a big clock at the Spooner aid station (brilliant idea!) and as I came by it read 10:49. Accepting my fate, I switched to a slightly more comfortable pace and vowed to enjoy my last mile and a half of the day.

I crossed the line in 11:05, with Tate just a minute behind. It had been a truly brilliant day. We kept a really consistent pace all day, and Tate’s presence made it feel easy. I couldn’t have been happier with my finishing time, and I was 8th woman. Tate had commented on the return from Mt. Rose that she considered herself a back-of-the-pack runner. I’d laughed and said, “Not today girl!” She finished 9th in her first 50 miler!

Tate and I celebrate our triumphant finish!

A big thanks go to the race directors and all the volunteers who put on a great event! Also, a big kudos to whoever came up with the finisher awards. As soon as I crossed the line I was handed a cold 20 oz. “Red House Red” beer specially labeled for the race, and a finisher’s medal that was also a bottle opener. Excellent!

Congratulations to all the runners, especially Addy, Scott, Jack, Chet, and of course Tate!

Harry Potter vs. TRT

Last week I realized I have a major conflict with my upcoming Tahoe Rim Trail 50 miler this Saturday. I mean seriously major. It’s not just that the final Harry Potter book will be sitting there waiting in my mailbox, unread, while I mindlessly find my way over 50 miles of trail at 8000 feet. It’s not just the fact that I will have to wait until at least Saturday night to begin discovering Harry’s fate: Will Voldemort kill him? Will Harry triumph? Will Dumbledore’s death be avenged? Will Dumbledore “pull a Galdalf” and manage to return to the plot? Will someone please (Hermione, a little help here!) kick Snape’s smug evil ass?? Will Draco turn to the good side? Will Harry and Ginny get back together? Will Hermione and Ron finally cut the act and smooch already? Oh God, I can’t stand it!!

The real problem is that I pre-ordered my book on Amazon. I paid extra for guaranteed Saturday delivery. (Tomorrow!) Living in a small town, I do not get mail delivered to my house. I think this is because the mail carrier does not want to drive down the crazy steep hill with the curve at the bottom in the icy winter conditions. Understandable, but doesn’t the postal system have some motto like “neither rain nor sleet nor snow shall keep us from delivering your mail?” Seriously, I need Harry! So the book will be put in my PO Box, except there isn’t enough room, so I will get a slip of paper that says I have a package and will have to go to the desk to get it, meaning the post office must be open. I will be running during the entire duration of Saturday’s postal hours. Ack! I cannot wait until Monday. What’s a girl to do?

My current plan entails sending Andrew to the post office instead of my race. Plan B is to stay up until midnight tonight and go to the book store downtown to buy another copy. Unfortunately that means I would stay up all night reading it and get no sleep the night before my race. I am having a serious dilemma here! Advice anyone? I know, next time just support the local bookstore and buy it there (duh).

I also went to see The Order of the Phoenix on Monday. Enjoyable, but the movies just can’t compare to the books. I will say that I loved the actress who played Luna Lovegood, she stole the show! I also think they picked a good Umbridge, talk about someone you love to hate! Incidentally, I just saw “The Freedom Writers” with Hillary Swank, and that same actress that played Umbridge played another bitchy teacher. She’s good at it.

So, don’t expect my TRT race report anytime soon, as I’ll be locked in my room reading…assuming I can get my hands on the book!

Tapering at the Donner Lake Triathlon

Ahhh…extreme tapering, what a great life! After a few days in the 90’s in Seattle (who knew it got that hot up there??) taking some days off last week was not too hard. I spent 10 hours in the car on Saturday driving down from Portland in order to get to the race expo for the Donner Lake Triathlon. They charge an extra $20 or something to pick your packet up on race day, so I needed to get there by 6:00 in order to avoid that issue. I arrived at Donner Lake with my right leg suffering severe driving cramps despite my generous use of the cruise control. Not exactly a great pre-race plan to spend 10 hours driving, but oh well.

I got my stuff, and started feeling nervous noticing how ripped all these other people were who were checking in. Triathletes are fit! I was more than intimidated. I then proceeded to worsen the situation by going down to the beach to check out the swim course. Oh my God! The far buoy that we would swim around was so far out into the lake I could barely see it. I wanted to cry. What was I thinking signing up for this thing and putting in no training on the swim and only two days on the bike? (Does two days even count as training??)

At home that night I seriously considered whether I should be doing this with TRT less than a week away. I was torn be the two questions: “Am I stupid if I do this?” and “Am I a total wimp if I decide to bail out before the start?” I did not sleep well.

In the morning I arrived at the west end of Donner Lake to the usual pre-race excitement and was glad I was there. I knew the swim would just be survival, and the most important part was to stay relaxed. I found being at the start with my gear to get ready and things to do allowed me to relax and not worry so much. Triathlons are so gear intensive; pretty different from running. I got all of my stuff ready at the transition area, got a short warm-up and stretch in, and put on my wetsuit.

There were two triathlons going on: a sprint distance and the international distance. All the sprinters had started by the time I got to the starting area, and the announcer was busy sending the men off in age group waves five minutes apart. I did some last minute stretching while “Footloose” blasted the crowed in an attempt to generate energy. Why is it always “hits of the 80’s” that race directors choose for their pre-race music?

My wave (women 34 and under) started at 7:50 and there were two more waves after me. I started easy, as was the plan, but quickly felt my heart rate climb. The thing I hate about swimming is that you can’t just breathe whenever you want to. Soon enough I began to flail and switched to the backstroke. I love the backstroke! You can breathe as much as you want to! Well, except for the occasional wave washing over your face causing you to gasp and sputter.

As I approached the farthest buoy I was flailing a little more, and a safety kayaker offered to let me rest on his boat. (This is actually totally legal.) Did I really look that bad?? I declined, knowing that I just needed to keep making forward progress. The swim was sort of a square, so the first turn at the far buoy was still only about 1/3 of the way to the swim finish. I got caught and passed by people in both of the waves that started behind me, and after a lot more backstroke, finally found myself on the beach. Hallelujah! The relief was overwhelming!

My swim finish was about what I had expected. I was pretty much last in my wave, but I had expected to take 40-45 minutes and I finished in about 36 minutes. I was pretty happy with that, and extremely happy to be done! Getting on the bike was truly the best feeling in the world.

The bike course immediately starts climbing for 3 ½ miles up to Donner Summit. It’s a tough climb, but living here, I have done it enough times that it doesn’t intimidate me. I had my new road bike that Andrew got me for my birthday, and I have to say, it kicks ass! The only other triathlon I have done is the sprint version of this same race, and I have always been the goofball riding up the hill on a mountain bike. I love my new bike! I was also pleased to see that there were still a lot of athletes around me, so at least I wasn’t last in the whole race. I spent most of the hill powering past other cyclists.

I also found that my new bike turned me into a better downhill biker. I have always been a decent hill climber, but a total chicken on the downhills. This bike fits me so well and gives me so much confidence, that I did my best downhill riding ever. On the other side of Donner Summit I found myself in my very highest gear spinning like mad to get more speed on the downhill. Obviously it wasn’t a very steep downhill, but still, I was having a blast! I realized then that, being a runner, triathlons are great fun because each stage actually gets easier as you progress to disciplines for which you are more suited. I was later to revise this theory during the first mile of the run. Ugh!

The descent down old 40

The final descent down old hwy 40 to the transition area was probably my shining moment of the day. This is not only a steep downhill, but contains a series of hairpin turns that make it a tricky descent. I am notoriously slow on this hill and ride my brakes a lot. On race day however, the road was blocked to traffic so I didn’t have to worry about cars. This also allowed me to swing out and take the best line around the corners. I had a blast! I started down with one woman who I kept in my sights the whole way, and I actually passed someone. This is unheard of for me. Apparently Andrew was cheering somewhere near the bottom of the hill, but I didn’t see him because I was so focused on avoiding any bumps or potholes while the ground sped by me at the speed of light. Unfortunately, he didn’t see me either, so no pictures from this event! I told him he didn’t recognize me because I was going so fast, he was looking for someone much slower on the bike. I think this is actually the truth!

I stumbled through the transition area and set out on the long 10K (6.5 miles) around the lake. Contrary to my expectations, I did not feel great on the run. I managed to catch a few splits and think I was doing about nine minute pace on the flats. It felt pathetically slow, but somehow I was still passing people. Even though I was feeling like crap, I thought, “If I feel this good in the last 6 miles of TRT I will be stoked.” I clearly will feel much worse during the last 6 miles of TRT because I will have just run 44 miles, but it helped to put things into perspective.

As I finally approached the finish line I experienced a frightening sense of deja-vu when I heard the familiar sounds of “Footloose” pumping through the speakers. Apparently their selection of “get pumped up songs” wasn’t very long. This finish had probably the best feature of any finish I have ever seen: It was located about 10 feet from the edge of the lake. Within 30 seconds of finishing I was stripped down to my swimsuit and floating in the soothing coolness of Donner Lake. Blissfully enjoying the feeling of being done, I relaxed in the water for a few minutes and went to find Andrew.

Although I am definitely sore from the triathlon, I am glad I did it. It was a beautiful day and I had such a great time. It was one of those days where I really appreciated living up here in this beautiful mountain town. I finished somewhere in the middle of the pack overall, and more towards the top half for women. I feel pretty good about this. I think it shows my overall level of fitness to do that well even though my training wasn’t really geared for the event. The soreness is mostly just in my shoulders, so hopefully this didn’t take too much out of me for the upcoming 50 miler. It was definitely a good distraction, and maybe that was the whole point.

Final results:
3:15:38
46th out of about 130 women
106th in the swim
46th in the bike
30th in the run

An Urban Long Run

As with all of this summer, the last 2 weeks have been jam packed. The first thing I did after Yosemite was go for a run on one of my favorite sections of the Pacific Crest Trail and promptly sprained my ankle. Well, actually it wasn’t prompt. Unfortunately I didn’t do it until about 6 miles down the trail, which meant I had to “run” 6 miles back on a sprained ankle. Not so fun. This injury arrives uncomfortably close to an event that I have really been gearing for, the TRT 50M. The same thing happened last year about a month before AR50. Hmm…Stephanie’s doctor says it is no coincidence that injuries happen just before races because we have been training so hard or something like that. Some consolation. Although I can still run on it, I have had to cut back my mileage and I’m pretty disappointed about it. These were supposed to be my last two weeks of “big” training before tapering, and instead they were pretty mediocre. I also still have pain in my ankle and the bottom of my foot. I’m hoping that will disappear with the “extreme taper” I embarked upon starting yesterday. In case you don’t know, an extreme taper simply compacts the normal “step downs” of tapering into a shorter period of zero mileage. Okay, so I just made that up, but we’ll see how it goes. I will be doing mostly resting and yoga for the next 2 weeks. Aside from that triathlon next Sunday.

So, let’s talk about that triathlon. What was I thinking?? I haven’t done any swimming at all. Well, I did one 25 minute swim in Donner Lake last week, which was probably a bad idea because it put the fear of God into me. I think ignorance would have been bliss in this case, since I’m pretty sure 25 minutes of swimming did nothing to improve my chances of finishing well in the swim. As it is, I am hoping not to drown. The swim is 1.5K, which is .9 miles according to the website. There are two waves that start behind me, so if I’m lucky I won’t be dead last getting out of the water. The bike is 40K and the run a long 10K. Honestly, I’m not all that worried about either of those. I know I will at least survive them. But what made me think I could do a triathlon without training for the swim? Ultimately, I suppose it will be good for me. This event is going to require a change in my mindset. I need to decide what my real goal is, because finishing fast is not an option. Perhaps my goal is just getting out there and having fun? It will be my first international distance triathlon, so maybe my goal is just finishing. I guess, with TRT a week after, and a full race schedule planned after that, my biggest goal is to remain uninjured. Well, aside from the ankle thing.

The milkhouse, at "The Farm" where I am staying in Seattle

Currently I am in Seattle for two weeks (one week left) for a writing conference. The Puget Sound Writer’s Project is for teachers who want to work on both their own writing and how they teach writing. I have to say, it’s been incredible! I can’t remember the last time I was in an environment that fostered so much learning in me, and inspired me. I’m actually excited for school to start in the fall!

While in Seattle I have had some time to visit my friend Charlie. You may recall Charlie as my pacer last year at AR50. Charlie wasn’t available for any running or pacing duties this year, due to the birth of her baby girl Rian. However she and Rian did lend their experience to crew for Mike (Charlie’s husband) and me on an 18 mile run through the streets of Seattle on Saturday. It’s been a while since I had a partner for a long run, and it was wonderful. Although much of our route was on pavement, it was a beautiful tour through the city and various parks, and Mike’s company had our 9:00 minute pace feeling like a breeze. I also have to give my plug for Discovery Park in downtown Seattle. I have run in a few urban parks, like Golden Gate Park, Central Park, and even Hyde Park in London. Those are all great for running. They can’t hold a candle to Discovery though as far as placing a wilderness in the middle of an urban setting. When you’re in the canopy of those trees, running on soft beautiful trails, you have no idea that you’re not in the middle of some mountain wilderness. Then suddenly you pop out onto this beach on Puget Sound and you would swear you are closer to Alaska than Seattle. I loved it!

Charlie, Rian and me

My Backyard Paradise: Lake Tahoe and the Sierra Nevada

With school out for the summer and my final exams all graded, it was fitting that I spent many days in June down on the east side of the lake. Living in the mountains brings a few drawbacks (few cultural events, shoveling 30 feet of snow off my 23 front steps, etc.) but when I can get out to the trails and the lake I remember exactly why I live here.

One of those drawbacks developed into a stark and frightening reality for some Tahoe residents recently, when a fire started near South Lake Tahoe last month. As residents of the planet Earth, we all know what Mother Nature has the potential to dish out. In the mountains, the big risk is fire. We had an extremely dry winter, and I think it’s going to be a long fire season for everyone in California.

I have been impressed by the support of the community for the victims of this fire. In Truckee we had several collection sites where we donated clothing and supplies for those who lost their homes, and I know communities all over the Tahoe-Reno area were doing the same. I like being where I know my neighbors will help if they can.

As I said, I spent most of June playing in the mountains, from Tahoe’s east shore down to Yosemite. Here are some pictures from my adventures, and my tribute to life in the mountains.

Last day of school "teacher campout" on the east shore.


Sunset view from our campsite

Taking a break on the west shore of Marlette Lake, during a bike ride on the Flume Trail.

The Flume Trail. The best mountain biking in Tahoe!

My running partner, Cap, takes a break on the TRT. We finished 26 miles together that day. It was a great adventure, except for the part where we ran out of water.

View of Marlette Lake with Tahoe behind it, from the TRT.

Swimming in Tenaya Lake, Tioga Pass area.

Vernal Falls, Yosemite Valley.

Andrew and I stand at the top of Half Dome, Yosemite.

While in Yosemite, I completed my longest rock climb to date, 16 pitches! Here is our summit photo from the climb, Royal Arches.

Descending from our climb at Glacier Point apron.

Humbled at the Silver State 50K

Looking back, it strikes me as funny that one reason I signed up for the Silver State 50K is because I was too lazy to travel to an event that was farther away. A piece of friendly advice: if you’re feeling lazy, Silver State is probably not your race.

Race director Stan Ostram gave us the course description at the pre-race meeting on Friday night. I’d never met Stan before, but he was easy to pick out. What is it about ultra race directing that seems to require sweet, skinny white-haired men for the job? I liked him immediately and found myself fighting the urge to call him “Coach.” His course description, however, left me feeling a bit dizzy. It sounded so complicated! After looking at the map he had posted, I decided it didn’t look so bad, but I needed to be sure not to miss the split where the 50K and 50 mile courses diverged.

During the pre-race meeting I spotted Scott and Olga and had a chance to introduce myself. They were both running the 50 miler. I said hi to a few other familiar faces (everyone but me was running the 50 miler!) and headed home to sort my gear.

I planned to run with my REI Runoff hydration pack. This thing kicks butt! I can carry 70oz. of water in it and whatever gear I want. It doesn’t bounce, and rides comfortably. I have never used it in a race before, but always use it on long training runs. I am considering using it for the TRT 50M in July and this race would be a test run. I filled it with GU2O, stuffed in a PB&J sandwich and some GU, chapstick, advil, my camera, sunglasses and visor. I packed a bag for the finish line, pinned my race number to my shorts and fell asleep.

Saturday morning I made the 30 minute drive to the starting line at 5 am. We had a 6 am start and I expected it to be chilly. I had a warm shirt on over my t-shirt, but when I got there I knew it was already warm enough that I wouldn’t need to start with gloves or a headband. I feared we were in for a hot day!

Runners gather at the start. At left, Jasper Halekas (orange tank and white hat) chats with Scott Dunlap

Stan Ostram Starts us off right

Stan got us started on time, and we headed up the hill toward Peavine. My plan for the day was to take it easy. I hadn’t really built up to this much mileage (a 50K that was really 33.5 miles) and I was worried about how I would fare. The first 6 miles of climbing was beautiful. I mostly walked, but the sun was coming up, the grade wasn’t too steep, and it was still pleasantly cool out. I even remembered to stop and take some pictures. Taking pictures was part of the plan to enforce my “take it easy” strategy. A runner named George came by and offered to take a picture with me in it. Thanks George! Soon after, I saw Olga heading up the hill at a steady pace.

The first miles of the race immediately start climbing
Me, hiking up towards Peavine summit

I reached the Peavine summit faster than the 2 hours Stan had predicted for most of us, and I had been primarily walking. I felt good! I checked my water and I still had plenty (maybe 70 oz was too much?) I grabbed some sandwiches and a GU and kept going.

Now we began a pleasant easy downhill. The scenery was your basic eastern Sierra high desert fare. There were only a few scattered trees on this slope. We had a view of snow capped mountains in one direction and the casinos of Reno in the other. A few people nearby made a wrong turn, but a runner named Angie called out to get us back on the right path. I promised to stay on my toes from now on and not miss any more turns! When we came to the 50K split I asked the course director which way to go and he pointed out a trail that I never would have seen! It was well marked, but it just wasn’t an obvious trail, and I was glad I had asked. Later I heard that several 50K runners had missed the turn off. I can’t imagine how they must have felt when they realized it.

This next stretch was my favorite section of the course. It was single track, while we had been on mostly jeep roads until this point. It was also downhill, but not steep or tricky. It was very runnable. I am not typically a strong downhill runner, and a few people passed me through this section, but it gave me a chance to chat with some new faces. I had already met more new people at this race than at most of my previous races combined. Were the runners in this race friendlier than normal, or was I friendlier than normal?

The downhill singletrack heading towards the Boomtown aid station

Crossing the Truckee River

The Boomtown aid station was incredibly well stocked, and I decided it was time for some more liquid in my hydration pack. I tried to help the girl fill it up, and in retrospect maybe I was just getting in her way. Anyway, it wasn’t super fast and I decided that was a drawback of the hydration pack over a bottle. I was grazing at the aid station when I heard someone say, “Anyone want an Otter Pop?”

“What?” My head popped up from the plate of watermelon I had been demolishing. My brain was saying “You need something substantial!” but my mouth was screaming “Otter Pop!” I shoved down a few potatoes with salt and went for the cooler full of otter pops. Artificial cherry flavored sugar ice. It was heaven! I walked away from the aid station, popsicle in hand, and crossed interstate 80.

“Did they have popsicles at that aid station?” I heard a voice call from behind. It turned out to be Chet, a runner from Reno, who, sadly, had missed the popsicles. We began an I-don’t-know-how-many-miles climb up toward the next summit. Chet had run this course several times before and shared some stories of previous years as well as tips on other local trails for running. The dirt road was winding, and not too steep. It was punctuated with several “shortcuts” that were, however, quite steep. The shortcuts basically cut major switchbacks, and were essentially cross country. I had to keep a sharp eye out for ribbons in order to figure out what direction to go.

It was right about this time when I heard that distressing sucking sound out of my hydration tube. This was the sound that meant I was out of water. I felt like a fool, since I had declined to fill up at the previous aid station. Another disadvantage of the hydration pack: You can’t tell how full it is without looking! I knew I couldn’t be too far from the next aid station, so I just tried not to think about it.

Straight up hill on the first shortcut

Eventually I realized that I was running alone and that I didn’t see any ribbons. Uh oh! Stan had definitely said that if you can’t see a ribbon in front of you or behind you, that you are probably off course. I stopped, unsure of what to do. I rounded the next corner, and to my relief, saw runners ahead. Unfortunately when I got up to them, I realized they were coming off a shortcut trail that I had obviously missed. Well, too late to worry about it now! I decided I probably hadn’t extended the run by too much, and this was confirmed when I arrived at the aid station to see a lot of familiar faces. (Although they had all been behind me before the missed shortcut.)

This time I simply handed my backpack to an aid station volunteer while I filled up on food. That seemed to work much better. I was still busy stuffing my face when he handed my pack back filled with GU2O. What wonderful people! I was impressed.

At this point we were headed across and over the top of the mountain. We were now in the woods, and there was essentially no trail at all. I have absolutely no idea how they figured out where to make the course go, it just seemed to wind haphazardly through the forest. I had a vision in my head of the people marking the course out there with about 20 rolls of flagging and a malfunctioning GPS. I tried to run a little since the terrain was flat, but all the pine needles, dirt, pine cones, rocks, branches and logs made it difficult. It was simply a matter of following the pink ribbons, and there were many! In fact, at numerous times there were so many ribbons I had trouble figuring out which way to go. I know that sounds ridiculous, let me explain. I would see a ribbon or two in front of me, but I would also see ribbons off to my right. “Huh?” Then I would realize the ones to my right were farther in the distance. Should I head towards nearby ribbons first, or just bee line it off to my right? Since there was no real trail it didn’t seem to matter.

Finally I was at the Hunter Lake aid station. With water paranoia now, I topped off my pack again. It was getting warm out, although it wasn’t unbearable. It was probably in the low 80’s. The volunteers told me there was 7 miles to go, and with no one in sight, I headed off on tired legs, happy in the knowledge that it was all downhill. It wasn’t long before I was not happy at all.

Up until this point it had been a wonderful day, and I felt I was executing my “take it easy” strategy well while still getting in a good workout. I had met a lot of nice folks and enjoyed the scenery and the weather. It was about noon when I left the aid station, and knowing it was downhill, I thought maybe I could finish by 1:15 or so. This 7 mile stretch absolutely kicked my butt.

I know you are not supposed to “brake” with your legs on the downhill. I know you are supposed to use gravity to your advantage and go with it, or whatever. I couldn’t see (and still can’t) how I could possibly do that on this particular “trail” without killing myself. This dirt road was rocky, loose, rutted, slanted, and just all around sketchy. A shuffling jog was the best I could do, and much of the time I was relegated to a walk. My knees and quads were on fire, and all I could think about was soaking them in an ice bath when I got home. In spite of the beautiful day I’d had up until this point, I quickly became demoralized. I realized that finishing by 1:15 was never going to happen, and I decided to not even think about my time anymore, just finish. The one uplifting part was that only about 5 runners passed me between Hunter Lake and the finish. At the speed I was moving, I would have expected the entire race to pass me, so maybe I wasn’t the only one struggling with this section.

I could tell that I was nearing civilization, when a runner named Pavan came up behind me. He was in such good spirits that I had to smile. We complained about the quality of the trail together, and laughed a lot. I felt much better not running alone. When we entered the paved roads Pavan was a bit ahead of me. Although the turns were well marked, he would put up his hand and wave at me any time the trail turned a corner. That gesture of kindness was very much appreciated, not to mention that in my delirium, I could have easily missed a turn. Thanks for helping to pull me though that final stretch Pavan!
I stumbled into the park, and crossed the line in 7:48:58. It was more than an hour slower than my slowest 50K, but not as bad as I had feared. A few seconds later Jasper Halekas came blazing across the line to win the 50 mile race. I was at least relieved that he hadn’t finished before me!

People were in good spirits at the finish line, and food and drinks were abundant. I think cold watermelon (theirs was on ice!) is my favorite finish line food. I saw Chet, who had finished 20-30 minutes ahead of me. He looked completely fresh! That’s good because I overheard him tell someone that he was going to run Ohlone 50K the following day. Ouch! I took an informal visual poll and about 3 out of 5 finishers were sporting bloody wounds of some kind, mostly on the knees. I found myself wondering if maybe getting a few scrapes and bruises would have been better that killing my quads by “braking” down the last downhill. I’m still undecided.

Recovery is going surprisingly well. I was really sore on Sunday, but my runs on Monday and Tuesday felt good. I now know why everyone says this is such a good training run for Western States. It’s all that downhill! If I ever get into States, I will definitely be coming back to Silver State. Either way, I’m already thinking about how I will redeem myself on this course next year.

A race report final summary:

Gear thoughts: I’m still undecided on the hydration pack for TRT, but I’m thinking ‘no’ at this point. Also, I need new gaiters!

Best moment of the day: Otter Pops at Boomtown!

Worst moment of the day: The downhill from Hunter Lake to the finish. (Can that be considered one moment??)

Lessons learned: Always top off the water pack! Watch for course markings at all times!

Next time: Run more of the uphills. (I don’t think walking them really saved me on the downhills)

Photography skills: I did okay, but when I got tired and bummed out I totally stopped taking pictures. Note that there are no pictures of the part of the trail I had the most complaints about.

Bragging rights: I beat Jasper! (Ignoring the fact that he ran 12+ miles farther.)

Favorite section of course: The downhill single track just after the 50K split.

Favorite part about the race: Super friendly runners! Also, the sweet Patagonia silk weight shirts in women’s style and sizes. (Thank you for not giving unisex style shirts that I will never wear!! I love my shirt!!)

My First TRT Training Run of 2007

After the Prison Hill race, I decided I needed a long run on the Tahoe Rim Trail to welcome the advent of summer in the Sierra. Unfortunately winter breathed one last gasp in the week prior to this planned run, and blanketed the mountains with another 6 inches of snow. By the time Saturday rolled around the weather hadn’t warmed up much, and I still wasn’t sure if the trail would be runable. I remained undecided until about 9:00 am, when I realized I just couldn’t let go of my plan. I’d been looking forward to this run all week! I decided that if it turned out to be just a hike in the snow, that would be okay too.

It was fairly warm at my house, enough to feel comfortable in shorts, a short sleeved shirt and a long sleeved shirt. I threw a windbreaker and pair of tights into my running pack just in case, along with 2 PBJ sandwiches, several packets of GU, a 70 oz bladder filled with raspberry GU2O, warm gloves, headband, and requisite other items such as Advil and TP. One big advantage of the running backpack: you can be prepared for everything! I packed another bag with post-run sandals, water and food that I would leave in the car, and I was off.

I arrived at Spooner Summit about 40 minutes later, and as soon as I opened the car door I knew I would need my tights. It was about 45 and windy. Brr! My planned route had me starting out with what is actually the last 1 ½ miles of the TRT race. I would pass through the start/finish area to head another 4 ½ up to Marlette Lake. (This stretch is the very beginning of the race.) At Marlette Lake I planned to diverge from the actual race route. I figured both Marlette Peak and Snow Valley Peak would have too much snow still. Instead, I planned to skirt along the west side of Marlette Lake and run the Flume Trail. I would then turn around and run the same route back to my car.

The Flume and Rim trails. I essentially followed the red line up and back.

I headed out at about 11:00 with my warm gear on, including the gloves. It was a brilliantly beautiful day, and although I still had no idea what I would encounter at higher elevations, I already knew I had made the right decision in coming here. I cruised along Spooner Lake and through the meadow, enjoying the easy pace of an all day run. As I headed up the dirt road toward Marlette Lake, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten my camera. Damn! I was really disappointed, as the scenery was already beautiful, and I knew it would only get better. After reading Scott Dunlap’s write up of the Big Sur Marathon, and enjoying Addy’s picture-taking-addiction, I had promised myself that I would remember to bring (and use!) my camera on more of my runs and races. Photos add so much to people’s race descriptions, I often feel like I was there myself. I guess “camera” just hasn’t made it to my mental pre-run checklist yet. Well, it’s something to which I can aspire in the future.

As I gained elevation, still at mile 4 or 5 of my run, I began to encounter snow. It was clearly all from the most recent storm, as it was only 2-4 inches deep, and didn’t pose much of a barrier. The landscape was stark and clearly still in the midst of winter at this elevation. There was no grass, no wildflowers, and the white snowy ground seemed to blend right into the granite of the mountains. Everywhere the aspens were tall, leafless white sticks, still waiting for spring.

I also realized at this time that there were no footprints in the snow. I turned to look back at my own prints behind me, and ahead again at the untracked trail stretched out before me. This is typically a heavily used trail, and I relished the knowledge that I was alone in this wilderness.

Continuing my upward climb, I watched as Marlette Peak began to show itself through the trees. I played tourist, reading some of the trailside signs, and stopping at an old cabin that was once used by the shepard of a ranch which used to be in the area. It had been restored to make a nice picnic shelter.

Soon I was heading downhill, the last stretch to the lake. The snow was a bit deeper now. Suddenly a pair of footprints popped out of the woods onto the trail in front of me. I was taken aback. Who were these people, and where did they come from? Why had they been tromping through the woods instead of on a trail? Admittedly I was a bit disappointed to lose my feeling of solitude, even though I hadn’t seen any actual people. As I cruised down the hill, adding my own footprints to theirs, I wondered if they were runners too. Maybe they were hikers who had gotten lost. Maybe they were locals headed to the lake for some early season fishing. Then, just as suddenly, their footprints disappeared again back into the woods. Just like that, I was alone again.

The lake was breathtaking, and still half frozen. The gusting wind made the blue water choppy, while a white frozen sheet pressed up against the southwestern shore. Here the TRT course turns right, heading up Marlette peak, which was still encased in a frozen world. I took a left turn in order to connect with the Flume trail, which would keep me at about my current elevation. I knew this side of the lake, shaded from the sun by a steep ridge, would likely have a lot of snow. I was tromping through it when I met the footprint owners: just a couple out for a hike, albeit a long one. When I left them behind, heading in the opposite direction, I again found myself on untracked ground.

I had been correct about the deeper snow on this section of trail. About every third or fourth step I was post-holing through to just below my knees. I found that a lighter step kept me from breaking through the top layer, and changed my stride to more of a run/walk in order to stay on top.

The one hazard that I knew might force me to turn around was the outlet to Marlette Lake. The trail basically goes across the tip of the lake, just before the water pours down a ravine. In the summer I could ride my mountain bike right through this section, but I knew the water level would be higher this time of year. Fortunately it looked like I could climb across some rocks on the left side of the trail and avoid the water. Unfortunately the rocks were covered with snow. I weighed my options: #1- Climb slippery snow covered rocks and risk falling into the water. #2- Take off my shoes and socks, hike up my tights and wade through the icy water. I decided to take my chances and went with option #1. I made it!

Soon I crossed over to the other side of the ridge to get on the Flume Trail itself. This side of the ridge faced west, and suddenly I went from trudging through fairly deep snow, to absolutely no snow at all. Hooray! I was drenched in sun and gazing at the glory of Lake Tahoe far below me. This is quite possibly my favorite trail in all of Tahoe. Although it is only 4 ½ miles long, it’s worth all the effort it takes to get there. The Flume Trail follows what was once a logging flume used to send the logs down to town, the train, the mill, etc. The flat single track trail traverses a ridge above Lake Tahoe, treating you to fast running (or biking) and stunning views. Now I was really feeling bad about my forgotten camera.

Photo courtesy of www.theflumetrail.com

I nonetheless ran this stretch with a huge grin on my face. I stopped to take my long sleeved shirt off so I could feel the warmth of the sun on my arms. That didn’t last long, since the icy wind blew the warmth right off! I passed Sand Harbor, and turned around just short of the Tunnel Creek Road which heads down to Lake Tahoe. I was aiming to get in 22 miles, but looking at the map it may have even been 23.

When I finally returned to the north canyon trail, in the last 5 miles of the run, I remembered that I had my cell phone with me. It has a camera! I smacked my forehead in a mixture of frustration and excitement. I had missed all the incredible shots of the Flume Trail and Marlette Lake, but at least I would get a few pictures.

Back at the car I smiled as I changed into my flip flops. Although it had been somewhat more of an adventure rather than a pure run (I figured I spent about 7 miles on snow) it had been a wonderful day. I went about 22 miles in 5 hours. I also noticed that the amount of snow on the trail on my way back had been considerably less. It's melting quick! I would imagine that by this time, the trail is in perfect condition for running. Everyone, let the altitude training commence.

Prison Hill "Training Race"

There are times when living in a state of unbalance can be a good thing, or at least a sign of good things. For example, I am currently in a frenzy because I have taken two days off in a row. I need to run! This is a good sign, because not all that long ago I was simply too tired, both physically and emotionally, to care if I missed a workout or three or four.

Saturday I ran the Escape from Prison Hill half marathon in Carson City. It’s a beautiful course on hilly, desert terrain; in short, a great training run. (I wrote a detailed report from last year’s race here.) I realized I really had the “training run” mentality when I arrived at the starting line with only 10 minutes until the start, and without my watch. Oops! I darted to packet pick-up and the bathroom, while “Folsom Prison Blues” pumped out of the starting line speakers. Ultimately it was perfect timing, as I was ready and waiting about two minutes before the gun went off.

Temperature at the starting line was about 45 degrees, but felt pleasant. The race director warned us that it would get hot, but it was still only 70 by the time I finished. (In fact, once I stopped I had to put on long sleeves because the breeze was making me chilly!) I employed a slightly different strategy than usual at the start because I was familiar with this course. My usual strategy is not to be too close to the starting line when lining up for a race, in order to keep myself from starting out too fast. It also means that I spend some time weaving through the crowd passing slower runners. This course becomes an uphill single track pretty quickly, after about a half mile, and last year I spent much of the first two miles trying to pass people who were walking. This year my plan was to be amongst the people who would run the up hill by the time we hit the single track. It worked perfectly, and I really felt I was going my own pace the whole time.

Since their finish line clock was broken, I had no watch on, and I didn’t feel like hanging around for the awards ceremony when they would post the results, I still don’t know what my finishing time was. Last year I finished in 2:14, and I would say I was a little slower this year. It felt great though, and I was able to go home and run with the dogs for another 3.5 miles. (They needed exercise, and I needed to tack on just a few more miles for the week!)

On my drive home over Spooner Summit, I noticed a conspicuous lack of snow. I know it must be hiding in the trees there somewhere, but I was encouraged. I am now planning my Saturday run on part of the course for the Tahoe Rim Trail races. That’s my next big race, and I really want to focus on it and do well. It will only be my second 50 miler, and it is a much harder course than the AR50, which I ran last year. Part of my training plan is to do a lot of running on the actual course. I’ll write up a report on trail conditions next week for those of you coming to Tahoe for this beautiful race.

One last sad note is that my team dropped out of The Relay. We were a 12 woman team, and if you aren’t familiar with The Relay, it is a 199 mile race through the San Francisco Bay area to raise money for organ donation. It’s the same race of Dean Karnazes fame, you know the story, where he ran the relay solo and had the pizza delivered to him on the road. Anyway, I was so excited to be part of a team, and pretty bummed that it’s not going to happen. The bright side is that it’s really better for my training because now I can run long on Saturday.

My frenzied state should come to an end with my afternoon run today. Sunday I had planned a bike ride, but was so tired from Saturday’s run(s) plus a lot of social activity, that I just couldn’t make it. I needed a day off. Yesterday I was ready to get back in it, but unfortunately had to work 11 hours. I’m just not good at getting up early enough to run before work (about 5:00). Triathlon training starts soon, so I better start figuring it out!

Spring Fever

In truth, what I really have is summer fever. Out of the last two weeks, including my spring break, it snowed a total of 28 inches. All I wanted was to be down at the lake in my bikini in the warm sun. On the Brightside, snow was much more conducive to getting my taxes done, and I already have my refund!

My first wave.Don't laugh, I know it's microscopic, I don't care!

Things in the running world have not gone quite as planned, although perhaps predictably. Two days after my PR at the Way Too Cool I woke up with a sore throat and a fever. Not so horrendous, except that the illness lingered for more than two weeks and devastated my training schedule.
I pondered my goals for AR50. I quickly revised them. No chance of a PR here, I would just have to consider it a training run. A few days later my head cleared a little more, and I realized no matter how ‘easy’ I ran, that it was still 50 miles. With the exception of the Cool race, I had run approximately 15 miles in 4 weeks, with only 2 1/2 weeks until the race. Not a good training plan for 50 miles. With a few wistful thoughts about the undoubtedly sweet finisher’s jacket that I would not get, I made the decision to drop the race from my schedule. I was sad on race day, and my disappointment was furthered when I recalled that this was one of my events for the Ultra Grand Prix. However, I have a long season planned, no sense getting injured in the first third.

I spent another light running week in Hawaii with Andrew. This may have been the true fuel for my spring fever. It was incredible! My good friend Dayle's wedding was the motivation for the trip, and it developed into a reunion of my dearest friends, affectionatly known as "The Slackers." It was much needed time with girlfriends. I went surfing for the first time in my life and stood up on my third wave! I don’t know how it’s possible that a girl who grew up in SoCal has never surfed before, but I guess if Newport Beach had warm water and small waves like Waikiki that might have been different. The trip was also a great romantic getaway. We stayed in this beautiful place in Kailua, bought local food at the farmer’s market and walked along the beach in the mornings drinking Kona coffee. I am now looking in to what it would cost to move to Kailua. (Ha ha)

Sunrise on Kailua Beach

The Slackers!

Some of our lower elevation trails are starting to appear here in Tahoe, and this is the time of year when I really start to appreciate them. I’m tired of driving an hour each way to find snow-free trails, and with gas at 3.75 a gallon I can’t afford it anyway. The emigrant trail is one of my favorite lower elevation trails, and I managed to catch 14 miles on it last Saturday before it was blanketed in 8 inches of snow on Sunday. I am slowly working my way back into shape!

I have also been contemplating some more revisions in my race schedule. I know the Bishop High Sierra 50 can not be a 50 miler for me. My question has been whether to travel to Bishop to run the 50K course, which I have already run, or to stay closer to home and run the Silver State 50K, a course that I have not run before. When considering the options, I didn’t really feel up for the travel unless it was going to be a new or special event, but the Silver State course looked considerably more difficult and I wasn’t sure how I would fare. When I realized that SS was an event in the Ultra Grand Prix, I let that be the deciding factor and signed up for it. It won’t really make up for missing AR50 because it’s a shorter distance, but it helps. I’m not really competitive in the Grand Prix anyway, but it’s fun to score points!

I was able to run in shorts and a t-shirt today, and my daffodils which were crushed by Sunday’s snow, seem to be coming back. It was 63 today and is forecasted to be 70 by Friday. It’s time to discover what other Tahoe trails are snow free, and rake up the pine needles in the garden!

Andrew and I catch the same wave

Way Too Cool 50K

Saturday March 10th was the running of the Way too Cool 50K. Some people say that the hardest part of this event is just getting in. I would definitely argue that point.Yes, the race filled online in about 8 minutes. But hey, there were no qualifying requirements, no lottery system. It ain’t Boston, and the run up the hill from Maine Bar is certainly harder than any online entry process.

Runners get ready with 8:24 left until the start

I did discover that there is a reason the race is so popular. It’s a beautiful course, not too slow, and the weather turned out to be perfect. I was initially a bit concerned about the heat. Normally temps in the low 70’s wouldn’t be thought of as heat, but it was considerably warmer than the temps in the 20’s and 30’s that I had been training in. The longest distance between aid stations was just over 8 miles, causing me some hesitation on gear decisions. How much water would I need? Figuring I would drink a little extra water leaving the aid stations, I decided to go light, and carried just one 20 oz bottle.

I wasn’t really sure what my goals for the race were. Due to a combination of work obligations and big snow storms, it turned out that I didn’t run for almost two weeks prior to race day. Even prior to that, my mileage hadn’t been extremely high (in the low 40’s per week.) What would this mean for my run? I wasn’t really sure, and decided to just see how it went.

Living in the snowy Tahoe area, I spend many Saturdays doing my long runs “down the hill” in the Auburn area. This gave me the advantage of being pretty familiar with most of the course. The first 6 mile loop from the Cool fire station was the only section of trail I hadn’t run before. Race morning began with chilly temps, but by the time the starting line clock had counted all the way down to zero, it was warm enough for my chosen shorts and tank. This simplified things, as I wouldn’t have to discard any clothing along the way.

The race seemed crowded during that first 6 mile loop. There are about 400 runners, and many of them are fast. Fortunately we were still on roads (some paved, mostly dirt) but I still felt an anxiety that led me to try to work my way through the crowd before we hit single track. The trail was pleasantly rolling and shady. I came to the first aid station entirely too fast, about 8:40 pace, but didn’t let that worry me too much. I felt like I had been holding back, and I also knew that the roads would be faster than the upcoming single track anyway. This was where we hit the 8+ mile stretch to the next aid station. My bottle was only half empty, but I filled it up with raspberry GU2O and downed a cup of liquid at the station as planned. I also grabbed a GU and a couple squares of PB&J. Turns out I should have been more focused on getting food than water.

I had forgotten how shady and cool the canyon trails along the American River are. Heat was never a problem, and I had plenty of water to last to the second aid station. I fell in with a large group of runners who seemed to be going the perfect pace. There were maybe 15 of us cruising along, no one feeling the need to pass anyone. People exchanged a few jokes, and comments about the course. There was a request for songs, but none of us were brave enough to try our singing voices. This is one of my favorite things about ultra races. Although we are all certainly working hard, there is more a feeling of camaraderie than competitiveness.

Although the water issue was fine, I realized that I was starving with a couple miles to go until the next aid station. My two mainstays for food are PB&J sandwiches and GU. Fortunately these were all in good supply at Cool, but I seemed simply to have eaten too few. I was focused on moving through the aid stations quickly and must have skimped on the calories.

All of the aid stations at this were great in my opinion. Volunteers lined the trail as runners approached. Instead of holding cups of water they had large pitchers in both hands filled with GU2O and water. I simply opened my bottle and they quickly filled me up. They practically ran along side me while pouring so I barely had to stop. After the hungry spell I did a better job of eating at aid stations. I always ate a potato with salt and left the stations with 3 GUs and 3 squares of PB&J. I occasionally downed a coke before leaving too. I must have been pretty efficient because I always seemed to leave the stations ahead of most of the people I had come in with.

pre-taped feet (It worked-no blisters!!)

Soon I was on a loop from the Auburn Lake Trails aid station which would come around back to the same station. This was the one section where I ran out of water. It was just over 6 miles, but the temperature was rising, and it included the killer climb up from Maine Bar. I have run that hill probably 5 or 6 times in the last two years, but I still found myself wondering when it would end. Not only is this hill steep, but the footing is rough. At several points I put out a hand to brace myself. A fast paced hike had me moving past 7 or 8 runners over the length of the hill. Finally we were back at the ALT aid station.

At this point in the race I started playing mental games with myself. I felt like I was almost there because I had made the turnaround and was headed back toward the fire station. In reality I still had 12 miles to go. That could hardly be called “almost done.” I kept trying to remind myself of that. But this section is also my favorite stretch of trail in the area. It feels like endless miles of flat and slightly downhill trail. The trail is shady, footing is great and it feels fast. Things had thinned out and I wasn’t seeing a whole lot of people anymore, but every now and then I would pass another runner. I ran briefly with two women from Santa Barbara who were running their first ultra. I was impressed, as I felt like I could barely hang on to their pace. Unfortunately one of them twisted an ankle and they had to slow to a walk.

By the time I reached the Goat Hill aid station, I knew I was not going to crash and burn. I had passed a number of people on the hill, in my opinion the easier of the two big climbs, and was feeling good. From there to the last aid station the trail is still moderate, with a lot of flats and easy down hills. The grass in areas was a brilliant green, and a few wild flowers were beginning to pop out along the trail. I was enjoying my last few miles.

When I reached the last aid station with 1.7 miles to go, my time was 5:10. I had no idea what kind of pace I was running, but I figured if it wasn’t all uphill and I didn’t totally die, I could finish in under 5:30. That would be huge for me, so I flew through the aid station with my hopes high. Almost immediately I found myself on a solid uphill climb. But this was a hill that I had run many times before and I knew it wasn’t long. Soon I was running the flat open trail towards the finish. My final time, 5:26, was a huge PR for me. My two previous 50Ks were 6:46 at TRT and 6:40 at Bishop High Sierra. Certainly this is a faster course than those and at lower altitude, but I was still psyched on cutting about 1:15 off my best time for the distance. There were still several climbs on this course that forced a walk, and several descents that were steep enough to do the same.

It’s clear why Cool is such a popular race: the beautiful trails, the great aid stations, the friendly runners. I have my calendar marked for the online entry next year! (December 9th 2007, 8:00 am sharp)

The Great Ski Race


Last weekend I participated in a favorite winter event here in Tahoe, The Great Ski Race. A fundraiser for the Tahoe Nordic Search and Rescue Team, it draws one of the largest crowds of skiers west of the Mississippi. This year was no exception, with over 800 participants crossing the finish line. It’s a 30K race from Tahoe City (on the north shore of Lake Tahoe) to Truckee, and it’s absolutely beautiful!

Skiers gather in the starting area

I had waited to the last minute to sign up, as there was a good chance the race was going to be cancelled. With one of the driest Januarys on record, and February not doing much better, there was essentially no snow on the course one week before the race. Things looked grim. But then we got one of those big storms that this area is famous for, and suddenly there was 9 feet of new snow blanketing nearby Donner Summit. The race was on!
I am not exactly an experienced Nordic racer, and I had only been on my skate skis once this season. My technique is shoddy, to say the least, but I knew I at least had endurance on my side. I was joined in the race by two co-workers, Mike and Ambrose, along with Ambrose’s parents. Mike and Ambrose were definitely experienced Nordic racers, and this was reflected in their seeded starts, Ambrose in wave #1 and Mike in wave #3. I myself was back in wave #5. The starting line announcer referred to us as “the cruisers, just out there to have fun.” I sort of resented this summation, as I considered myself to be more “working my butt off, but just slow.” Maybe the cruisers were in wave #6?

Ambrose takes off with the first wave (photo by Michael Roberts)

As I watched the first wave take off from my position back in wave #5, it was clear these guys were fast and competitive. Their technique was smooth and graceful, even while they were jockeying for position. They looked like figure skaters with long sticks on their feet. I couldn’t pick out Ambrose in the crowd, but I wished him luck as we all cheered them on. As the waves ahead moved up to the line, I spotted two girls in spangled pants with bunny ears and cotton tails. A man wearing nothing but a speedo skied up to join their wave. Even some of the faster people were still out there to have fun, (if you call skiing naked fun!)

costumed skiers are not an unusual sight (photo by Michael Roberts)

With three minutes in between each wave start, I set off 12 minutes after the first wave. Skiers are not allowed to skate for the first 50 yards or so in an effort to avoid crashing right off the starting line. This makes sense from a logistical standpoint, but I have to say that double poling really sucks. Those skis were meant for skating.
The first 5K or so is spent winding through the Tahoe Cross Country Ski Area, and trying desperately to stay out of the way of fellow racers. This can be tricky, because as with the start of a running race, you are trying to pass slower racers, while others are trying to pass you. The big difference is that we are all on skis and take up a lot more space. I think the key is to remember that it is a long race, and not to get too concerned about passing people. There will be plenty of time for that. That being said, I did manage to trip over someone’s pole and go down about 5 minutes into the race. Whoops! Fortunately I got up quickly and didn’t cause a domino affect of crashes behind me.
Soon after leaving the cross country center, skiers find themselves on the long climb up to Starrett Pass. It’s not an incredibly steep hill, but it seems never ending. Not being very graceful on the down hills, I also knew that this was likely to be my strongest part of the race. I dug in, and began slowly but steadily passing other skiers. I knew once we reached the top of the pass, the hard part was pretty much over. At the top, we were rewarded with stunning mountain views and a soup station (a.k.a., the aid station.) I was skiing with a very lightly filled camelback, so I just skied by and grabbed a Twix bar off a plate; a perfect sugar boost to munch on the downhill.
There are many comparisons to be made between ski races and running races, but I have to say, the down hill is not one of them. Going downhill is unquestionably easier on skis, and it’s faster. It’s like stopping to rest, meanwhile covering ground twice as fast as you were before. And it doesn’t hurt your knees! Truly, it’s like a miracle when compared to running downhill. The trail from the 10K marker to the 20K marker is a beautiful, not too steep, downhill that goes by so fast you have to remind yourself to enjoy it before you start huffing and puffing again.
The last 10K is rolling with a little bit of everything. Personally I enjoyed the small hills because it broke things up, but I think I was the only one. The biggest challenge of the course comes at the very end. Just when your legs have turned completely to jelly, you have to negotiate a steep downhill punctuated with a series of sharp turns; a section of the course termed “the luge” by some skiers. The steepest hill of course, is right across the finish line. I don’t know what sick mind thought this would be a good way to finish a 30K ski race, but it does draw a crowd of spectators at the finish area, who are guaranteed to see some carnage. I used my jelly legs to their fullest to stay in a controlled snow plow, not caring in the least that other skiers were passing me like mad. I was just starting to get up a little more speed than I was comfortable with when I came to the steepest part of the hill. “Oh great,” I muttered aloud upon seeing the last 100 yards to the finish line.
“You can do it!” said a laughing spectator. I could tell he was just waiting for me to eat it. Why else would anyone be standing at that icy corner? Sicko! I figured he would get his due when some out of control skier came careening around the corner straight into him. It wasn’t going to be me though.
Miraculously I made it in unscathed. My time, 2:09, sounded fast to me, but since I’m not much of a racer I don’t really know what it means. I finished 361 out of 812. Not bad I guess. Ambrose crossed the line in 1:28 for 33rd place, and Mike finished in 1:33. Now that’s fast! All in all, it was a beautiful day and a fun cross training event.We got some food and beer and listened to the band while we watched the rest of the skiers cross the line, hoping to see a few good crashes.

The End: the naked guy finishes with style. (photo by Michael Roberts)

Check back next week for my write up of Saturday's Way Too Cool 50K!