2013 Lake Sonoma 50

Heading into this years running of the Lake Sonoma 50 -- I knew that while it was a stepping stone for Western States -- it was an event I wanted to do pretty well in. Although, with the star-studded field in attendance and having never set foot on the course, I wasn't sure what lofty goals to shoot for. Sub-7? Top 10? I mean, with this field, that would be a GOOD day, right? And lastly, and probably most notably, a solid second half of the race was what I really wanted.

Pre-race

Training had been very consistent with 80+mi weeks (and a few 7-day stretches of 95+mi's) with a good balance of climbing, flats, and downs. Mostly tempo-effort/efficiency stuff; I haven't really dove into much intensity yet (trying to time it just right come June 29th!).

Some notable outings leading up:

- An Ashland training weekend with Timmy and Joe back in late-Feb
- River City Marathon (2:45) in early March
- An 18.6mi Green Gate to Robie Point "race" on the WS trail with Mr. Wonderful (Senor Maravilla)...in which he was in "zone 1" the entire time, while I was in the "twilight zone" being woo'd by his El Salvadorian smile:)
- A Michigan Bluff to Pacific Slab Mine & Back (4+hrs, 23mi's, 7.8k' vert) in which I was fueled entirely by almonds and had a historic bonk a mile out from MB (I don't recommend *just* almonds.....)
- A rolling 19mi road run w/ ~1,400' of gain in 1:58 (just over 6min pace) 2wks out


Ok....it's been 8 months since my last serious ultra (Waldo 100k), it's GO TIME!

Channeling my inner Karate Kid at 5am on race morning.  Photo: Joe Uhan

Race

Joe and I were up at  4:30am, scouring around for our gear, throwing back some coffee, and eating peanut butter (the idea was to trigger the body to start burning fat from the get-go, thus, preserving necessary carbs). I was pretty chipper and filled with child-like excitement simply for the fact that, for me, the 2013 ultra racing season had officially begun. So I wanted to kick-off the morning to this, but Joe had sour memories of it from '12 TNF50, so he protested ....."What a DEHCK!" :)

We rolled into the parking lot/starting area at Lake Sonoma around 5:40am and after a some time of chillaxin', followed by a brief jog, and deuce; here we were, on the starting line of one of the deepest fields ever assembled for a 50-miler (a common phrase now-a-days in this competitive era of ultrarunning).

And then, after Tropical John sent us off, he we were, running the expected 6min+/mi pace up the road. I settled in with Joe and Nick, while a good group of ten or so guys were already off the front not too far ahead. I was interested to see where my legs were for the day and no sooner than that thought had left my mind, that I realized I was already falling back up the first (of a few) long rollers along this 2.4mi pavement section. No biggie, everyone's going out fast (as expected), I'm just gonna hover back here in 20th or so place and let everything warm up.

I let Joe, Nick, Mackey, and a bunch of other guys go while I tried to find a hard, but sustainable rhythm. Eventually, the pavement ended (:16) and we veered right to meet up with some sweet single-track and a fun, twisty-turvy little 800' drop.

Then, almost comically, carnage had already struck (ruh-really, bro??). Not two strides into the descent and I see the heavy pre-race favorite Miguel Heras limping back up (Oh snap! Miguel's already out!). Apparently he (re-?)injured his leg. Bummer dude.

I continued to flow downhill, scooting by Philip Reiter and a few others guys, starting to feel the groove of the trail. That is, until I hit the first (of many!) short, steep uphills. And then, my momentum (and legs) just felt like they hit a wall. No power or umph! on the steep ups, it seemed. And like that, I lost the train of Joe and the boys.

Things would smooth out on the flats and downs, but anything steep just stopped me in my tracks. When something throws a wrench in your race, you immediately go into problem-solve mode: Ok, the steeps aren't feeling good today, I can't control that. What can I control? My stride. Efficiency. Calories. Leg turnover.

So that's what I did. Just focused on the basics. I set my racing mentality aside and made sure that if I was going to do the best I could for what my legs were giving me today, I had to make the most what I could control. And luckily for me, I had some good guys to share this experience with. Yassine Diboun then came up behind me, peppering me with positive encouragement. "You're running a smart race, Jake!"

At that time, I really needed to hear that because it can be disheartening being left in the dust. So Yassine and I pushed together in tandem, mostly chatting and trying to help one another the best we could. Shortly thereafter the first aid (Island View, mi 4.2 - 30:00) we caught up to Gary Gellin and the three of us found a sustainable and fluid rhythm that would carry us through the next aid (Warm Springs, mi 11.5 - 1:26).

Photo: Willy Onate

It was here that Gary reassured us that we were definitely running sub-7hr pace and we came through a few min faster than last years group.  There was a brief climb out of the aid and it seemed Yassine was intent on making up some ground so he took off from Gary and I, while I tried to latch onto Yassine's stellar pace (and uplifting comments!).

It was not to be (for a while, that is), but I was able to pull away from Gary slightly on some of the flats/downs through this beautiful section. Running solo proved to be mentally refreshing for a bit as I was able to chill-out and take in the scenery. Although, as the trail started to undulate some more, I saw a guy up ahead moving decently well still.

Turned out to be Brian Tinder - who I had never met previously - and as both Yassine and Gary had been for me earlier, Brian proved to be a well-suited running partner as we neared the next aid. Brian was in good spirits, and like me, just soaking in the day and trying to run as smoothly as possible. We chatted quite a bit and I did my best to reassure him that we were moving at a smart pace and to stay relaxed and efficient.

I should mention that before I left Gary, he yelled ahead to me to get to the next aid (Wulfow, mi 16) in 2hrs12min to maintain that sub-7 effort. Sure enough, Brian and I came through in 2:09 and it pumped me up that I had been consistently right where I needed to be.  With the elation of such news, the flowy flatness of the trail and throwing down a Gu Roctaine, I felt SUPS' AWES'!

The next aid (Madrone, mi 18.8) was a mere 2mi hop down the trail and soon enough, I came through in 2:25 with the perfect view of Hal-Daddy up the climb ahead. From Madrone, we ran ~1/2mi up this SUPS' steep gravelly road and while I was huffin' up this baby, catching up to Hal was motivation to keep pushin'.

Hal was walking and I asked if he was ok? "Yeah man, I'll be ok. Foot problem." At that moment, I wished that I had some Lithia Water because I've heard, "It can cure a lot of things. This may cure my foot, actually!"

Atop the climb, we regained the trail to the right and it was a pretty sweet, rolling descent down toward the lake. I was solo again and curious who was ahead and by how far? After a weave in/out by the lake, I hit the beastly 800' climb that would take us up to the 25mi turnaround point. As had been my burden to bear all day, the steepness of this climb simply left me feeling like ground (DECAF) espresso beans. I BGD'd MYSELF! (Is that possible?). Therefore, again, I had to keep it simple. Use the butt, pelvis, and arms to get up this thing.

So I pumped away and soon enough, Max King comes flyin' downhill past me. And then, not ten seconds later, Cameron Clayton was in hot pursuit. Wow, what a race! Where's Sage Canaday? I wondered as I knew he was one of the other pre-race favorites. 5min later, He comes flyin' by, closely followed by Chris Vargo.

Then, a few minutes after that, to my surprise, Jorge Maravilla is pounding down the trail, too, in 5th place! I was stoked to see my amigo doing so well and knew that if I only saw the top 5 already heading back, there had to be a slew of guys within minutes ahead.

Not only was I looking forward to the turnaround in order to make the drive to the finish, but Sara would be there waiting. I was eager to see my baby's momma and after some encouragement from Chris Perillo, I shot into the 25mi aid at No-Name Flat in 3:15. Sara was a champ in handing me a new bottle and shoving gels into my pockets (WS crew chief right there!) and got me out of there within 30 seconds.

Coming into the turnaround. There's my wife (and 11 week old baby!) Photo: Willy Onate

Alright, moment of truth. Time to get it done. I climbed back out of the aid and was comforted to not see anyone coming in. Chris, again, provided some positive encouragement and I tried my best to work the descent back and get to Madrone again in one piece. The downs continued to feel good and thankfully, once at the bottom of the climb and back onto more flat-ish stuff, I saw Yassine again! Sweet!

I tried to muscle my way over the terrain and over to Yassine, but then everything came to a screeching halt. CRAMPS! Ouch. I began cramping in my inner right thigh. I've never cramped there before and I stopped as the seizing was pretty painful. I was probably stopped for a good minute (thank you to everyone who came by me and was positive) and again, went into problem-solve mode. What do I need to do to keep moving? It then hit me: I've been sweating a great deal today and have only taken 2 S Caps. Therefore, I swallowed 2 in haste and sure enough, the cramps disappeared. Thank you God!

Pretty sure I was cramping here. Photo: Gary Wang

While the cramps disappeared, a few still remained mentally. Having never, ever experienced cramps like that in a race before (I've been fortunate in my ultrarunning career to have only had minor blips that have lasted very briefly, yet weren't stride-inhibiting) I was worried that they'd come back. In retrospect, those cramps were probably the best thing that could've happened to me. Why? Knowing that cramps are part salt/electrolyte deficiency and part muscular fatigue-related, I touched up my stride some to make sure that I was as efficient as possible over the varying terrain. Any wasteful muscular energy at this point would be no bueno, therefore, I had to be almost perfect in my mechanics in order to have the best finish possible.

This seemed to work pretty well and for the remainder of the race, I let the cramps be the spokesperson on whether I needed salt again (it worked REALLY well!). As I made it through that rough patch (probably cost me ~4min overall with the stop and the super slow pace I adopted for a good 1/2mi as I was working out the mental cramps), I made it up to the gravelly road again and this time, enjoyed a nice, relaxing descent down to Madrone (mi 30.9).

As I neared the aid, I saw that familiar Salomon racing outfit just pulling in. It's Greg Vollet! That provided some encouragement that even though I was working through some low points, I was still catching people. Greg got out of the aid just before me (4:01), but a few strides along the single-track and I pulled up right behind him. We chatted for a little bit. He seemed to be hurting a good deal and I tried in earnest to encourage him the best I could.

He let me go and I pulled into Wulfow (~mi 33, 4:19), refilled quickly and got back to work. Looking back, this is where I really started to gain momentum. The trail was super fast, rolling, with many stretches of flat running, and I ate it up.

Cruisin' the bomb single-track that surrounds Lake Sonoma. Photo: Keli Kelemen

As my confidence grew, I knew that with how fast everyone went out, I should be catching people soon. Sure enough, just ahead up a small climb, I saw 2 people! One looked like Erik Skaggs, but the other made it over the hill before I could get a familiar glimpse. 1/4mi later and I started chatting with Erik. From what I could tell, his racing day was over and it was a matter of just getting to the finish. He was rockin' the NB 1400's while I was wearing the NB 890v2's. "How are the 1400's holding up?" I asked. "Pretty good, I wish I would've worn the 890's though!"

We laughed and I took off in pursuit of whoever was just ahead. After one of the 4 shin-deep creek crossings, I finally saw who it was.....Yassine! This raised the stoke-mometer a few degrees and right before the Warm Springs aid (mi 38.2), a spectator yelled out, "He's only 35 seconds ahead!"

As I dropped into the aid from above (5:05), I saw Yassine just leaving, but to my surprise, there was Rickey Gates still in the aid! Therefore, I yelled out, "Dude, Rickey, this is like '11 North Face 50 all over again!" (We had run a little bit together around the same mileage point that year). I bolted from the aid and prompted him to tag along. He seemed to be in "just finish" mode, which I respected, so I took off to see if I could catch Yassine.

After another creek crossing, I finally started to close the gap as I stuck to my simple plan: Efficient on the ups, push the flats, maintain on the downs. Soon enough, Yassine yelled some positive words to me and it was here that we fell into a really sustainable tandem. Like we had done before, we both knew that helping one another would help our respective races individually.

I'll be honest, though, I'm a fierce competitor and I tried my best to pull away from Yassine, but he continued to stay right on my tail. We both tried to keep the mood light as the temps started to rise (but it never felt that warm) and this stretch was probably the toughest mentally as there was a 7+mi stretch with no aid. Therefore, I gave myself 1hr-1:05 and every 10min, would look down at my watch and mentally reassure myself that I only had :xx amount of time left until the last aid station.

Trying to *stay forward* and remain efficient. Photo: ?

Probably 3mi's out from Island View (mi 45.5), Yassine mentioned that Tim Olson was only a few minutes ahead. This came as a surprise to me as I wasn't expecting to come upon Tim at all. Therefore, I kept to my plan and the cramps stayed at bay and I was able to move really well through here.

Sure enough, I saw Tim just up ahead and yelled some good words toward him. He told me that his knee was buggin' him and he was just gonna protect it the best he could. I wished him well, and not a 1/2mi later, there was someone else! Josh Brimhall was walking up a switchback climb and I tip-toed my way toward him as Yassine started to majorly deal with cramps here and fell back some.

I caught Josh and figured that I was now probably in 11th place. So in the last 15 or so miles, I had moved from 17th - 11th. Top 10 sounded really appealing at this point and I tried in earnest to keep the foot on the pedal without overdoing it.

The last :10-:15 before I reached Island View I ran out of water, but actually felt fine as I've been doing the majority of my training without fluids. In fact, on 70+ degree days, I've run 2 hours or more without feeling thirsty. I think without a doubt it has helped me mentally having been training with minimal intake.

I reached the turnoff down to Island View Aid (mi 45.5) and a 1/4mi later I was chugging Coke, drank half a bottle, and refilled my bottle and was off. I then saw Josh and Yassine just before I popped back out on the service road and estimated that I had roughly 4min on them.  However, it was a downer that I didn't see 10th place coming out of Island View before I had entered. Had I, I might have made it interesting for whoever the old chap was :)

Nevertheless, having just seen the guys again, this gave me some good adrenaline and I tried my best to push over the rollers to the turnoff which would signal 2.5mi's to go. I wound around the lake, literally counting every minute and estimating what my time would be. I really wanted to be done, but I really wanted to finish well, too.

I eventually made it to the turnoff and thought, OK, it's time to GO! I pushed the pace and dug deep, however, my left calf had thoughts otherwise. CRAMP! Dangit. I backed off the pace, threw down another S Cap and gel and chilled out for a bit to make sure it was ok. Looking back, that cramp was a real drag because I wanted to push as hard as I could, but at the same time, didn't want to risk tying up so close to the finish. So I played it safe and just tried to move swiftly over the rollers.

Eventually,  I hit the 1mi to go sign (such a nice touch Tropical John!) and thought, might as well time my last mile. So I picked it up some and was relieved that my calf cramp wasn't rearing its ugly head.  After seeing the bridge, I crossed the pavement intersection, and "kicked it" into the finishing chute in a time of 6:57:38 which was good enough for 11th place (8:08 last mile).....4min behind 10th place finisher, Lord Nick Clark of Canterbury :)

A much-appreciated congratulatory hand-shake from RD Tropical John Medinger. Photo: Mom

Phew. What a day. Photo: Mom

 

"So do you want to run tomorrow?" "Sure, I'm down." (We did....11.4mi's) Photo: Mom

"Dark Chocolate" is key for post-race recovery. Mi amigo. Photo: Mom

It's always nice to sit down post-race. Photo: Mom



 

                                                      

The three of us. So glad many got to meet this woman last weekend. Photo: Mom

Full Results

Full Splits

Gear
Shorts - 3" NB split short (modified w/ pockets)
Shirt - NB Momentum Short Sleeve (Cut sleeves off)
Socks - Injinji Trail 2.0's (Green)
             EX-Celerator Compression Socks post-race (Black)
Head - Injinji Buff (Soooo Sweet!)
Shoes - New Balance 890v2's (Orange/Black/Grey) - 250mi's on this pair heading in

Fuel
Calories - ~2,100 (1 gel/:20, 5oz Coke/hr in the last 3hrs)
Water - ~30oz/hr
Salt - 8-9 S Caps


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Already, I'm thinking about coming back next year. Thank you Tropical John (and volunteers) for putting on such a high-quality event. Every aspect of this race was dialed. Impressive.

How do I feel about my performance at LS50? Overall, very satisfied. Being a slight perfectionist, I know I could've done better, but I ran sub-7, *almost* top-10, finished strong, and had a strong 2nd half of the race. I did what I needed to do. The focus is WS.

Also, very proud of Joe Uhan and his performance. As most know, he and I have grown to be very good friends and I was so thrilled for him that he absolutely killed it at Sonoma. Watch out. Joe will be a legitimate threat to the top 5 at WS. Proud of you, Joe!

New Balance Roseville continually provides what I need to do what I love. It's been 2.5 years partnering with them and it continues to get better. Thank you Chris Ross and team at NBR.

5th race in a row with no blisters. Continually impressed with the Team at Injinji. Not only do they care about providing the best product for their customers, but they value relationships with their athletes and go above and beyond to meet their needs. Humbled by their support.

What's next? A nice recovery week this week followed by an intense 7-8 weeks laying the finishing touches on my Western States preparation. Very encouraged by what went down at Sonoma. I didn't kill myself out there; ran smart, within myself, and efficient; and am hungry for the big dance and to really lay it all out there.

Thank you friends, family, and loved ones for your support. Above all, I thank God for this gift to enjoy. His love is overwhelming and is shown in so many subtle ways. Sometimes I don't feel worthy to be his child, knowing who I am and what I've done in the past, but then I see what he did on the cross, and am humbled and reminded that his love is unconditional, real, and radical.

2013 River City Marathon

Of the two road marys' I have done now; both have had one thing in common, for sure: They hurt. The beating down of my muscles was a sadistic pleasure I was "looking forward to". Why? All in the name of Western States. I figured experiencing a different kind of pain was not only good for my body, but also my mind. So, I headed into this years race TOTES' under prepared due to spending most of my running-time out on the trails, not on the pavement like I *should have*. Nevertheless, my longest pavement-pounding outing was a leisure 9mi jog through Rocklin. "EETS ENOUGH" as Greg Vollet says in the WS100 movie, "Unbreakable." Yeah, right. I'm doomed.

In terms of Western States prep, training has been right on track. Mileage has been steadily consistent, body has been healthy, and I've shockingly been doing core strengthening exercises fairly regularly.  On top of that, a few weeks ago I was able to get up to Ashland and spend the weekend running in the mountains with Timmy O. and Joe "Huevo" Uhan - and of course, a Hal-Daddy evening tour of Ashland, but as the saying goes: "What happens in Ashland, stays in Ashland." :)

So, with feeling pretty fit and eager to race - we started the race along the bike path near the Folsom bridge and made our way (with near-frigid temp's) toward the Hazel Bridge. Due to permit issues, the course was changed this year from its normal mostly-downhill nature (from Negro Bar to Discovery Park) to this years rendition, a fairly rolling, bell-curve-like course (with about 600' of gain) that began in Folsom, headed to and over the Hazel Bridge, and made its way past Negro Bar, to the 13.1mi turnaround - which was about where the marathon mark is for AR50 (about a mile before Beale's Point).

I shot off the front with two other guys (Chuck Engle and Andrew Demas) and we settled into what felt like a low-6min pace.  The first mile marker told otherwise as we cruised past in 5:42. It felt effortless (as it should) and to my surprise, Chuck (a chiseled older man - probably in his late 30's/early 40's) kicked up the pace and Andrew (probably about my age) tried to go with him.  For me, it was too early to do any serious sort of racing so I just remained chill and sang a little Nikki Minaj to keep it light-hearted:

"Starships were meant to fly
Hands up, and touch the sky
Can't stop, 'cause we're so high
Let's do this ONE MORE TIME!"

The winding bike path, cool air, and the SUPS' AWES' view of the American River was a nice distraction as miles 2, 3, 4, and 5 read: 5:48, 6:03, 5:40, and 6:05. As we approached the Nimbus Fish Hatchery, Andrew (who I was right behind now) veered left toward a gate, while I stayed right as I assumed this was the right way (it was a little confusing). I yelled at him to come back right and that was the last running we would do together for the day. Chuck had probably a good 2min lead at this point, but I knew if I was going to pull back any time, it would probably be from Negro Bar to the turnaround as there is a good amount of uphill (for a road marathon).

I continued to stay patient and wound around and up on the bridge, but it was the ~300m uphill grade of the bridge where my hamstrings started to feel a little worked. 11 days prior, I had done a Michigan Bluff to Swinging Bridge and Back training run where I just focused on the climbs and while it was a good run, it beat up my hammies pretty good. Whether it was from that or an inefficiency in my stride is unclear, but I knew if I was starting to feel it now, the uphills later on were gonna suck. Ah, so it goes.

The 6th mile was definitely short as I hit it in 5:01, yet the 7th mile was incredibly long as I hit that in 8:07. This was a definite constant I would notice for the remainder of the race. One marker would be right on, then one would be short, then another would be long. I didn't really mind as I was mainly concerned with just my 13.1 split and my finishing time.

As I approached Negro Bar, I was still feeling pretty good (clipping off a 5:58 and 5:57 for the 8th and 9th miles) and even though the grade would start to vary much more noticeably here, my uphill legs were responding pretty well. Ok, now I'll hopefully start to make up some time on 1st.

Sure enough, I began to get more frequent glimpses of 1st place and I tried in earnest to stay relaxed, keep the cadence high, stay forward, good arm swing, and listen to my body. In terms of fueling, I didn't drink any water on the day (it was cool out, so I wasn't thirsty) and whenever I felt the need, I would chew on a Shot Blok (packed 600 cal's worth in my shorts, but only ended up taking in about 400 cal's).

Soon enough, miles 10, 11, and 12 came far too slowly than they should (this section - with its many sustained rollers - seemed to drag forever) in 6:14, 5:49 (short), and 6:35 (long). Finally, I passed the 13mi mark in 1:19:02 (6:00) and saw 1st already coming back ("That took FOREVER!" He exclaimed. Apparently he felt the same way I did!).  I hit the 13.1mi turnaround in 1:19:50 and now it was game on.

I bolted from the aid and rode the mostly downhill grade with focus and determination. In my mind, I was going to catch this guy and win the race. Miles 14 and 15 came quickly in 6:38 (long) and 5:20 (short). I saw him weave around a bend in the bike path and counted the seconds until I hit that exact point. 37 seconds was all that separated us. I was making up ground. Now it was a matter of "would my body hold up and allow me to do it."

Mile 16 and 17 then came in 5:56 and 6:00 and the gap remained the same. Blast! The other marathon and 50k runners kept encouraging me (which I was SUPS' thankful for), "Your gonna catch him!" "I'm trying!" I would say, smile back, and thank them for that.

It was here, though, that my lack of pavement pounding and his road marathon-prepped body would go our separate ways.  Just like in my first 26.2mi experience at CIM in 2009, the pavement began to eat into my muscles and while my breathing was TOTS' fine, I couldn't get my legs to go as fast as I wanted them to. Therefore, miles 18 and 19 came in frustrating splits of 6:48 (uphill) and 5:45 (short).  There was still hope once I hit the bridge, to turn things around, but who was I fooling; it takes specificity to be strong in the late stages of a marathon and I had done very little heading in.

Mile 20 was another long marker (8:13) and 21 was another shorty (5:49).  Just before the bridge though, there's this short, but steep little climb and it was at that point that my hamstrings threw in the towel.  They were in pre-cramp mode and it was annoying that I couldn't pick up the pace on the downhill stretch going down the bridge. This is just training. Yes, it is. This is like an ultra. My legs feel done, and now I have to get it done.  One foot in front of the other. Keep it simple. Mini-goals. Get to the next marker.

My brain liked this newly-adjusted plan and even though I had thrown in the towel racing-wise, here's where the most beneficial training probably lay. Can the mind keep the body pushing - at minimum - at a decent pace? Yes. It can.  Miles 22 and 23 came in 6:35 and 6:30 (how am I still running 6:30's? I feel like a SNAIL!). Dude, this is Western States training right here. Get from ALT to Brown's Bar. You can move well on the flats with dead legs. Yes. I can.

So with 5k to go and a sub-2:40 now very much likely out of reach, I just kept moving forward. Sometimes ok, sometimes pretty ugly. But I kept going. I'm not training for a road marathon. I'm training for Western States I would coax my deflated ego.

So, like the snail that I was, I FINALLY made it to miles 24 and 25 in 7:26 (ouch!) and 6:55. Ok, 1.2 miles to go. Robie to Placer, right here. I picked it up slightly and with a few hundred meters to go, saw some of the William Jessup Track guys (along with Coach Parker Daniells) there to bring me in. My only concern here was how one of the guys (Tony) - who was running the half-marathon today in hopes of bagging the NAIA National Marathon qualifying standard  - did in his race. "Did Tony get it?!"......"Yep, 1:13:50, he got it!"...."YES!"  Very proud of him for the hard work he's put in and the fruit of his labor he's now able to enjoy.

After another bend in the bike path, there was my beautiful wife Sara, mom, and grandma (they never miss a race! Family support is HUGE!) there to cheer me in. I definitely didn't try to kick it in and shuffled into the finish in a time of 2:45:23 (6:18 pace). It's a new PR by 12min and far from my best effort, but I'll take it. I finished. I got it done. I pushed through some pain. Mission accomplished. I swear one of these days I'm actually gonna train for one of these. Or not. Pavement hurts. In a good way. Or so I keep telling myself.


Gear:

Shorts - NB XS 3inch Split (modified w/ pockets)
Shirt - Only @ NB Roseville (sweet shirt to race in)
Shoes - NB 890v2 (~200mi's so far on this pair)
Socks - Injinji RUN 2.0's (4th race in a row with no blisters....Wish I would have worn the TRAIL 2.0's though. I like the thicker, more comfy feel and it's what I'll wear at Western States. Another thing I'd like to say, the Injinji Performance Ex-Celerator Compression Sock has been PIVOTAL in terms of performance and recovery....Truly legit).

Fuel:

Food - 12 Shot Bloks (~400 cal's)
Water - None
Salt - None


Full Results


Some pic's Mom took:

David: "Yeah, I'll stick with the 1500m...No way I want to look like this guy."

Nice facial expression. Looks like I'm trying not to crap my pants.

Sweet wind-blown hair.

Sara: "Stop complaining. I ran CIM in a hurricane!"

Gotta look good for the camera.

Running Mentors and Friends

Sure it's 6 months, 23 days, 15 hours, and 19 minutes away, but in my small world, each day feels like the Western States 100 is here (the WS lottery almost is!).  The butterflies and adrenaline refuse to subside and each time I touch that trail, my mind can't help but create dramatic scenarios of what *might be*. Cranking up Robie Pt with a 15min lead and 15:xx on my watch.....Riding the waves of each mini-roller from Cal-1 to Cal-2 in 100+ degree heat and the field decimated by the elements.....Or *free-falling* down El Dorado Canyon with a group of likeminded hopefuls, wondering who will be the first one to break off the pack.

As much as I have wanted to run this race and as much as I anticipate to come June 29th, I can't help but think of those that have planted those necessary seeds that have fueled my passion for this event and running in general.  In chronological order, I thank:

-- My Grandpa: For introducing me to running at age 12 and bringing me up to Camp Fleet Feet as a wee lad in order to get my first taste of mountain running, a glimpse into a community of older ultra runners, and hearing about WS for the first time.

-- Jim King: Even though I couldn't comprehend this sport at that time, Jim's account of his 1983 WS journey gave me a glimpse into the mindset of what it takes to win this event (even though he didn't that particular year).  But more than that, what it takes to persevere no matter what happens.  Jim - even today - models a faith and joy that is genuine and contagious.

-- Nick Vogt: My former WJU cross-country coach whose high-altitude Summer running camp made a significant impact on my life (it's where I first met and heard JK speak, also). Those five-day long Summer camps undoubtedly planted seeds that continue to grow and blossom to this day as it relates to mountain running and my faith in Christ.  The highlight of that camp and the highlight for me when it comes to running is the community of like-minded people you get to share your passion for the sport with. Mountain running/ultra's, for me, continues to be a communal-based activity where passion is fueled and limits are tested....and I thank Nick for providing an environment for high school and collegiate athletes alike to experience that.

-- Jim Howard: Like JK, his tough-as-nails mindset continues to inspire me. I first met JH at Nick's camp as he and JK gave a blow-by-blow, play-by-play of their 1983 WS account. And one of the things that struck me at that hearing, is how you can *beat each other up* out on the course, yet come away with a deep respect and friendship for one another (as they both still have to this day). That is something I hope to experience at WS come June and beyond.

-- Connor Curley and Austin Violette: They introduced me to various trails in Placer Co. and various sections of the WS trail I'd never seen or run before. Such time invested in me and with me played a significant role in me moving toward this sport in '09 and '10. Awesome guys and Mountain Tigers.

-- WS 2010: Many-a-world did this event completely *rock*. This definitely includes mine. As a curious spectator, this was the first ultra I ever witnessed. And watching what Geoff, Tony, and Kilian did out there was mind-blowing. After Geoff gave his victory speech at the finish line, I knew without a doubt I wanted to run this race....and not only that, but win it and give glory to God.

-- Sara Rydman: I'll never forget that conversation: "Sweety, should I pursue this sport and go for it?"....And like the amazingly supportive woman she constantly is, she told me to go for it. And not only that, but paced me to a win and CR in my first ultra (Sierra Nevada Double-Marathon) in spite of me wanting to quit at mi45-ish. I couldn't do any of this without her. I look forward to her bringing me home the last 20 this June. With my wife pacing me, look out:)

-- Brian Priddin: I'll never forget Brian taking me to Devil's Thumb to run those canyons for the first time, two days after WS '10 (I'd been there once before, a few years prior, but only hiked from Deadwood Cemetery down to El Dorado bridge and back). It was a simple DT to Michigan Bluff and back and I suffered HARD. But Brian's sacrificial actions in taking me up there poured more gas on an already raging fire in my heart.

-- Craig Thornley and AJW: It wouldn't be right if you didn't mention these two together. Consuming their passion for the sport and WS would be the equivalent of putting your mouth to a fire hose. You just can't consume enough or get it fast enough! I first met these guys during their annual Michigan Bluff Training Camp in 2011 where I showed up unannounced and unaware that we were running a Cal St. Time Trial. I hooked up with Craig, Meghan, and Todd Braje's group and asked Craig question after question about WS. And he, gracefully and enthusiastically, answered each question with passion and thoroughness (and even dubbing me "Anton Jr" after I ran up "6min Hill" in 3:30).

-- Nick Clark: After my first and only DNF (AR50 '11), I was shocked when Nick e-mailed me and asked if I wanted to help pace him at WS '11. I had never paced or crewed anyone before and he made it clear to me that he was running for the win that year (*gulp*). Throughout, Nick modeled to me a lazer-focus in the later stages of an ultra - no matter what the circumstance - in order to get it done. He battled blisters, an *invincible Kilian Jornet of 2011*, definite pain, but hung on for a much-deserved 3rd place finish. I don't say it enough, but I have a ton of respect for Nick as a husband, father, ultra runner, and Race Director. He sets a high-bar for himself and others to emulate and it shows.

-- Joe Uhan: Talking about our friendship and the ongoing development thereof, deserves a blog post of its own. I first *met* Joe during '11's AR50 when he caught me at ~mi29 and shouted "running sucks!" as we were both in a state of pain. Joe offered me water in that moment (of the ton of people who passed me, I think he and Erik Skaden were the only ones to *check on me*). Fast-forward to WS '12 (interspersed with a ton of runs together on the WS trail, beer drinking, pop tunes, adventure runs, life talks, etc....) and I had the privilege of pacing Joe at last years event. Joe modeled to me a perseverance, similar, but different than Nick's. One that stayed patient, battled through *issues*, and broke through mental and physical barriers as only a few people in the field had a faster *last 38mi's* than Joe. Joe showed me that it is entirely possible to run the last 20 at an alarming speed and catch whoever is within reach of you and, to run Top-10 (and how to do it in this deep and competitive age of ultrarunning).

Honorable Mention "Thank You's": My family, Erik Skaden, Mark Lantz, Jason Carwile, Tyler Curley, Jorge Maravilla, Tim Olson, Thomas Reiss, Anthony Brantley, Jesse Barragan, Meghan Arbogast, William Jessup XC guys and girls, Bentley Nunes, Tucker Hoffman, Parker Daniells, Tom Harrer, Tim Steele, The Kaufman's, The Snooks, The Breitbarts, Stephen Wassather, Anthony Molina, Carey Williams, Bruce Labelle, Colorado Ultrarunning contingent, Scot Jurek (who told me "You have potential" WOW!), Anton Krupicka, Joe Grant, Geoff Roes, Uli Steidl, Jason Schlarb, Chris Ross, New Balance, Injinji, and so many more.

Catching Up and Looking Ahead

2012 has been, by far, my most satisfying year of running to-date. Comparatively, I actually logged less miles this year vs 2011, but what I believe made a significant difference in terms of performance and staying passionate, is how I invested those miles this year. Heading into '12, I wanted to make sure each mile counted or had value and was thoughtfully *spent* throughout the year (so that I didn't go "bankrupt" too soon!). Therefore, I began the year super-conservative with volume, inching my way up carefully so as to remain healthy and hungry for the heavy-hitting races I would take part in along the year.

 For example:

Race - Miles averaged leading up 

Way Too Cool 50k - 70+

American River 50 - 75

Quad Rock 50 - 75-80 (1 100mi week 2wks out)

Waldo 100k - 90 (highest volume week of '12 3wks out - 113) *Peak Race of '12*

After Waldo, my intention was to keep building and hopefully be ready to tackle the Rio Del Lago 100-miler. Clearly that didn't happen and I wanted to illustrate why as it was a good learning experience for me......

Only a handful of people know about this, but I actually didn't think I'd be able to run Waldo.  You see,  a few weeks out I shot up Foresthill Rd to lay the finishing touches on my preparation by running two quality repeats of Italian Bar (2.3mi's/2,550' vert).  It's ridiculously steep, unkempt with loose dirt/leaves, and eerily secluded. Not even a mile into the initial descent, I slipped on some loose wood chips (not the best place to fall, especially going down a 20+ percent grade) and my right butt cheek landed perfectly on a sharp rock protruding out.  I yelled out pretty loud in pain to the audience of trees witnessing this unfortunate mishap and lay there, wondering if I had broken anything?  The pain was piercingly sharp and instinctively, I knew I shouldn't continue.  I headed back up, but could only *half-walk*.  Limping up this 20% grade, I formulated the pending e-mail in my mind to RD Thornley on how I probably wouldn't be able to run Waldo given my current state.  It was then, that I started laughing at the absurdity of the situation.  Here I was, alone in the forest, limping up this ungodly climb, in pain, so close to my "A-race", and *so close* to a Western States spot given how confident I was in my fitness, yet wondering what would happen next, what type of damage I did, and would I be another year removed from running Western States?

I eventually got my mind into a good spot, being thankful for this gift to run and ready to accept that if I wasn't fortunate enough to run Waldo in order to pursue my dream of one day running Western States, that that was okay, because one day I would.  As I let go of everything from my mind, oddly, the *cheek* released and I was able to run the last 1/4mi up the climb without hardly any difficulty.

Later that evening, the *cheek* felt more and more OK, so I decided I'd go bang out a long run.  It's funny looking back to that day and seeing the tragedy of the event earlier that day, then being able to, later that evening, go run 18mi's at 6:55 pace on the rolling roads of Rocklin (say that 10x's fast).

The only bummer of it all was that I did compensate somewhat, babying the right cheek. This carried into Waldo where I noticed my left leg was more thrashed than my right. Further damage was done post-Waldo when I didn't give myself enough time to rest and recover (rookie mistake!) and began trying to up the volume while adding a decent amount of intensity with the William Jessup Cross-Country team (the season began just after Waldo).

Still not fully recovered from Waldo, trying to continue to train at a high level, and the thought of trying to run 100mi's seemed comical, at best.  Therefore, I downgraded to the 50k in order to still rep New Balance Roseville and support the store.  However, weeks out from RDL, I started hitting the weights again (alas, another added stress to the body!). It was after finishing 3 sets of squats after a 6mi tempo that my hip/IT band started bugging me.  I've never had an injury before, this isn't a big deal I would tell myself.  Well, after getting it *under control* it flared back up again 2 days out from Rio.

I can race a 50k, no biggie My ego reminded me.  Looking back, I should have never run that race.  It intensified the hip/glut issue for sure.  And of course, after Rio, I continued to train pretty hard, *managing* the nagging pain at times while still getting in super quality training.  After all, I had to run the North Face 50. Everyone's doing it!

Well, after bagging 15,001' of vert on Hilloween and the next day, running 18.5mi's at 6:46 pace, my body said, "Enough!".  The hip wasn't getting any better and I had to humble myself and shut the season down in order to prepare for more important things next year - Western States!

So, with all that said, 2013 is almost here.  And as I approach this next year of running, 2012 has taught me something: I'm not a guy who can race a lot.  Why? I always want to WIN! Therefore, 2013 will consist of just 2 races (tentatively):

Lake Sonoma 50 and Western States 100

Post-WS, we'll see where everything's at.....I would like to do some sweet adventure runs over the summer (with Joe and/or Connor) and I've been itching to see what I could bust out in a road marathon with some focused-training.  And that's really it.  Anything else thrown in there will be only if it makes sense in alignment with the big picture (WS100).  I want to give WS everything I've got and prepare the best I can.  I've waited 3 years for a chance to run from Squaw Valley to Auburn......and I want to make the most of it.

2012 Rio Del Lago 50k

I went into this race with the intention of it just being a quality training run in order to further prep for The North Face 50-miler in December.  However, the day before on Friday, I felt a little tightness in my left hip socket. Uh-oh.  A little background: This tightness first arose early September during a week in which I ran pretty hard 5 out of 6 days that week.  I had just finished a run with the WJU Cross-Country team and we hit the weights.  I started doing some squats with a relatively low weight and afterward, my left hip socket became uncomfortably tight.  It eventually went away after a few weeks, but like I said, resurfaced the day before Rio.  I knew it would likely flare up during the race, but you never know, I'm one of those guys who has to touch the iron to see if it's hot or not.  And boy did it burn.

The Rio Del Lago 50k started/finished at Beale's Point and contoured the American River upstream, turning around a few miles past Rattlesnake Bar (and coming back the same way).  A simple course, one that I know all too well.

A small group of us took off into the dark morning at 6am as we made our way across the levee toward the wide, gravely dirt that rolls along Folsom Lake.  I naturally went to the front and set a mid-6min/mi tempo as it felt comfortable and sustainable.  Due to the lack of illumination (and purposefully not wearing a headlamp), I couldn't see anything beneath my feet as the sun was still tucked under the distant hills, but relied on my knowledge of the course and natural feel of the terrain to guide me.

I stumbled a few times in the dark, but nothing too sketchy.  In fact, once we hit the woodsy single-track, it was a kamikaze-like ride as I literally couldn't see anything except a skinny dark line that I was following through the trees.  It was fun and to spice up this lonely moment, I belted out some Nikki and Carly Rae.  "Pound the Alarm" followed by the ever-catchy "Call Me Maybe" (I know, I'm really weird).

But as soon as the brain i-pod went back into sleep mode and I hit the 5mi Aid at Twin Rocks (33:15), my left hip started getting tight again.  I tried toying with my mechanics to see if anything would alleviate it, but nothing was working.  As I entered the 6mi techy section between TR and Horseshoe Bar, I started passing a stream of 100mi runners who had started an hour before me.  This provided some good distraction as we exchanged some friendly "Hello's!" and the occasional "Great day, huh?!" (*"It's a great day out here JB!").

The hip tightness appeared keen on not going away so I simply accepted that as long as I could keep moving, I would. (*"As long as I can just keep MOVING, I'm gonna win the race!").  The flow remained constant as I tip-toed up to the aid at Horseshoe Bar (mi 11, 1:19) and saw a traffic jam from a mix of 100mi (and 100k?) runners.  I kept going, still sucking on the same liquids I started with.  And as I passed through, got a "Go get 'em buddy!" from Chris Ross as Horseshoe was the New Balance Roseville Aid for Rio.

Next up was the Rattlesnake Bar Aid (mi 13-ish) where I figured I'd finally stop and snag some water.  Up to this point, I was barely drinking - in fact, I intentionally started the race a little thirsty so that I wouldn't have to make any pee stops at all during the race.  This actually worked out really well as I never felt under or over-hydrated at any point.  On top of that, I stuck to my customary 300cal's/hr and tried something new as well: Starting the race a little hungry so that the first gel in the morning would taste absolutely awesome (which it did!) as opposed to just forcing them down the hatch (which is fine too).  And the last thing I tried for the first time - no salt.  I figured racing a "shorter distance" and with the temps pretty mild, I wouldn't need any S-Caps (which I didn't).

I popped in and out of Rattlesnake pretty quickly as Ultrarunner Podcast team member Jesse Barragan was there to inform me that the turnaround would be a 1/4mi past the Power Plant.  Sure enough, after cruising around Avery's Pond and scooting by the Plant, I found the 15.5mi turnaround (1:52:30) and was super focused on taking down Leigh Schmidt's CR of 3:52 (which I was confident I was going to do with how comfortable I felt running 7's along this rolling and sometimes technical course).

However, it was a few miles back down the trail where the tightness stepped it up a notch.  It seemed almost instantaneous, but all of a sudden my left glut began to tingle sharply with pain.  It was most notable on the climbs and I had to stop and stretch a 1/2mi past Rattlesnake.  Sadly, again, nothing was seeming to lessen the pain.  The thought of dropping then crossed my mind. Is finishing worth risking something more severe? And immediately my brain fired back You bet it is. This sport is all about taking risks and pushing your limits, so as long as you can keep moving, you better keep moving. So I made the decision that as long as it didn't worsen to the point where I was laying on the ground crying, I'd keep going.  It seems post-'11 AR50, I have this built-in mechanism that never wants to experience the deeper, soul-piercing pain of not finishing.  My mind simply won't go back there, because to me, that kind of pain is more excruciating than anything physical.

I'd hardly call most of the last 13-14mi's "running".  It was more of a jog/shuffle, or a "juffle".  So if all I could do was juffle, then juffling it is.  A few more miles and I was back at Horseshoe talking to Chris.

"I think I tweaked something."

"Do you need to drop? Totally fine if you do."

There was that ugly word again. Utterly offensive.

"Nah man, I think I'm good. I'm just gonna run really slow." 

A few more minutes of stretching and hanging out and it was time to get it done.  I actually left the aid at a respectable clip, but then the ill-begotten glut cracked the whip and like the bondservant I was in that moment, I submitted to its will - each "lashing" reminding me of who was in charge.

So here I was, hardly able to run and completely focused on myself.  Quite the spectacle of a pity-party.
Then, it hit me: Don't focus on you, focus on others. Don't let this moment, this "thing" own you. You're giving it too much power. DON'T!.  Of course!  In reality, I had completely let go of my joy and allowed this uncontrollable circumstance to steal it and had become a slave to it.  Therefore, in order to fill my heart and joy, I just started praying and praying and praying.  Not for myself, but for my family and friends.  I just started pouring out my heart to God on behalf of those I love and thankfully, my circumstances didn't change, but my heart and my perspective did.  The pain suddenly became an afterthought and the new, more important focus became those I care about.  So I just prayed and slowly came out of the "juffle" and started running again - about 8:40's was the most the glut would allow. (*"I'm STABILIZING!.....Gotta turn it around.....")

Surprisingly, I made it from Horseshoe back to Twin Rocks in <1hr, got in a quick refill, and focused on enjoying the last 5mi's of super runnable terrain. Once back on the levee, I picked it up some and came into the finish - Sara, Mom, and Grandma there - in 1st place with a time of 4:08:08. Not the prettiest of W's, but I'll take it. I finished even when it was tough to do so, that's what matters to me. Another race, another lesson learned.

*Unbreakable quotes italicized in BOLD

Some more pics my Mom took:

I have such a studly wife.  She really is awesome.

Oh those trusty New Balance 890v2's come through again! Gotta give love to Injinji also for keeping my toes blister-free for the 3rd race in a row!

Time to hang out, eat some cookies and pound a Sprite.

Lessons Learned in my 2nd Year Running Ultra's....

With today being the day I begin a focused build toward the North Face 50-mile World Championships, I thought I'd take a brief moment to reflect on what I've learned so far in the second year I've been amongst this thriving community of ultrarunners and as Hal said in Unbreakable, "Out on these crazy trails!" (Read last years reflection if you're really bored).

1. Patience

This hard-to-swallow lesson first surfaced during the '12 Way Too Cool 50k when I found myself frustratingly in 8th place from miles 8 - 18.  However, I focused on joy, faith, and my own race and shockingly, ended up moving from 8th to 3rd place throughout the remainder of the race (tough to do in a higher-caliber 50k such as WTC, in my opinion).  This mindset continued on through the American River 50, Quad Rock 50, and pacing Joe at Western States.  The truth is, impatient folks tend to not make it very far in this sport (or in any sport, really).  This is a sport built upon a foundation of waiting.....waiting....and more waiting.  Throughout this past year, not only have I had to learn to race patiently, but I've also learned to train patiently.  Practically speaking, this looks like: Keeping my volume fairly low at a particular point in my season when I know others are putting in more time than me and/or taking necessary time/days off even when my mind is screaming "GO!".  This is by no means an important truth I feel I have "mastered", but have come to grasp a bit more tangibly and practically.

2. Suffering

This lesson, I believe, was learned and further cemented on some of my seemingly "worst" days of running.  Days where I ran out of water and still had hours to go in the scorching heat.  Days where I wasn't feeling too good, but kept pushing forward.  And days where I was feeling good, but found a little more ground in my heart and mind to dig deeper into.  Like patience, I still need to become a better suffer-er (that will surely come as I tackle more 100-milers and push myself harder).  There are still levels of pain to be experienced, thresholds of uncomfortableness to scratch, periods of mental brokenness to overcome, and barriers of fear to break. But from my relatively small pouch of wisdom to draw from in this sport, it seems those who rise to the top, rise to the occasion, and rise to claim that long-awaited finish, know how to suffer and know how to do it well.  They don't quit because they "had a bad day" (as I did at the AR50 in 2011), but because they may be having a bad day, they dig deeper and learn to suffer more so.  If I could pick any "talent" in this sport that is most beneficial, I might say this is it (especially in 100's)

3. Confidence

I remember hearing an interview of some sorts with Dakota Jones following his ballsy 2nd place finish at last years North Face 50.  And when asked how he was able to improve so much from 2010 and go head-to-head with the "big boys", he replied, "I'm more confident this year."  You could also say his faith was stronger as well because in 2010 and for much of 2011, his faith was tested to a higher degree because he put himself in more difficult and vulnerable positions, mentally and physically.  In other words, Dakota pushed himself to a deeper level in '10/'11, therefore, built much more faith/confidence in himself.  I get that.  For me, 2012 has been a year that I've really tested myself by lining up at big races and pushing myself remarkably harder than I did in 2011.  Simply put, I'm a more confident runner this year because of the trials I've been through and obstacles I've overcome; spiritually, physically, and mentally.

Still A LOT more to learn, but thankfully, I'm a work in progress.  Speaking of progress, time to go run!

2012 Waldo 105k

Totally Focused. Photo: Win

At every big race I've lined up at this year - if I'm honest with myself - I'd say I was partially defeated before the gun even went off.  What I mean is that I would mentally limit myself with a preconceived belief that I couldn't "hang" with the front guys from the gun.  I would need to play it "safe" and pick up the scraps as the race unfolded (in theory, at least).  So as I was laying in my tent a few days before the race, writing in my prayer journal, it occurred to me: I'm racing too defensively, too safe.  This time, I need to go for it and just see what happens.  The "see what happens" part is that contrary-to-human-nature territory that can be a little unsettling, if not spooky (am I right?); and for someone like me who was gunning for a spot at Western States, this logical outworking didn't sound too safe on the surface.  Hence, the need for a deeper level of faith.  A faith that was unlike any I've ever ran with prior; a faith that, as it says in the Chronicles of Narnia when referenced to Aslan, "Not safe, but good."

With that in mind, the morning of the race, Joe dropped me off at the ski lodge at 4:45am and in 15min we would be chasing the light of our headlamps up the ski slopes to kick-off the 11th annual running of the Waldo 100k (or, in the case of this year, 105 kilometers due to the rerouting that had to be done as a result of the fires).  Speaking of headlamps, at 4:50am I realized I had forgotten mine back at camp, so I ran 300m across the parking lot to our campsite (tripping over some tree branches in the process), snagged it, and casually walked back over with 3min to spare.  Deep breath. A determined look forward.  A few "good lucks" and Craig sent us off.

Engaging the opening climb, Ian, Yassine and I were out in front with Timmy and Jesse Haynes right there in the mix as well.  Ian and Yassine settled into a powerful, yet quick hike, which sort of prompted me to take the lead.  Here we go I thought.  I wasn't necessarily pushing up this climb, but not taking it easy either.  My breathing became deeper, legs tickled with benign streams of lactic acid, and tightness barked from various areas in my legs.  I had about 20-30 seconds on a bobbing headlamp behind me, but just focused on finding the course markings and making sure the mechanics were as efficient as could be. Lift with the glutes, stay forward, quick feet.

After just over 1000' of opening vert, the course flattened/mildly rolled and led me over to the Taits Trails where it would weave and descend to the Skyline Trail and eventually pop out at Gold Lake Aid (mi 7.4).  Just before hooking up with Gold Lake Rd, I saw a headlamp closing in on me.  I intentionally eased a little (I was trying to keep my breathing/heart-rate as relaxed as possible) and Ian Sharman pulled up next to me.  It was nice to have someone to chat with and we both pulled into the aid at exactly 1:00.  A quick refill, short jog up Waldo Lake Rd, and a left onto the Fuji Mt. Trail (with Tim now right behind us).  In the ensuing miles, this 5+mi climb would take us up 2,300' to the summit of Fuji (7,144'). 

Ian reeling me in just before Gold Lake Rd.  Photo: Win

Ian and I said our departing words and I just focused on getting up Fuji as relaxed and efficient as possible.  At times, I would glance back to see Tim chipping his way up maybe 30-40 seconds back and knowing he is one of the best climbers in our sport, this motivated me to keep on it.  I summitted Fuji (2:04), took in a quick glance of the misty, green landscape that lay before me and got back to work.  I looked at my watch to see what sort gap I had and was semi-comforted to see that Tim was still ~40 seconds back, but Ian, Jesse, and Yassine were 4-5min back, working in tandem. 

I made quick work of this long, rolling descent; hooked up with the Mt. Ray Trail and kept the 7-8min pace flowing.  Nutritionally, I was popping a gel every 20min, drinking when I felt thirsty (which was super minimal), and about 2:30 in, gnawed on my first S-Cap. 

Probably somewhere on the Mt. Ray Trail. Photo: Gregory Shumavon

The Mt. Ray Aid (mi 20.5) came pretty quick (2:57) and it was pretty comical to see the puzzled looks on everyones' faces - trying to piece together who this bearded, hairy man with a samurai ponytail was - as I surely was not the guy people expected to be leading this race.  A few times before Mt. Ray I was called "Ian" to which I would let out a chuckle and say "Thank you!" in my pseudo British accent (just kidding).

After leaving Mt. Ray, this next portion consisted of uber-douchey grade that climbed, what seemed like forever, but I kept the foot on the pedal and eventually hooked up with the 3/4mi (still douchey) road section up Waldo Lake Rd.  A bike pacer joined me and informed me that I had 4min up on Tim and no sooner than he spoke did the rain start coming down.  Ah, so refreshing! He was dancing on the pedals next to me so as a fun, mini-challenge; I wanted to see if I could out-run the bike pacer on this uphill stretch, so I upped my turnover and cheerfully chipped my way up the road as he worked the bike next to me.  "At the crest of this road, take a right and it's another 1.5mi climb to the aid-station." He informed me.  Man, this grade is starting to wear on me.

Sure enough, when I regained the trail, I started to feel the effects of nearly 5mi's of continuous gentle-ish climbing.  And again, the thought of the recently-crowned WS course-record holder and potential '12 UROY nipped at my psyche, therefore, I kept the pace honest all the way up to the aid at Twins #1 (mi 25.5, 3:44).  The transition - as it had been so far up to this point - was quick and I began to hit some rollers just out of the aid with the expectation of enjoying a much welcomed overall downhill section into Charlton Lake (mi 30.4) where I would see my wife and pick up Joe as a pacer for the last 35mi's.  However, I hit my first mini-rough patch through here as my climbing legs over the rollers felt worked a bit.  On top of that, I'd been fighting off the need to pee and deuce for over 15mi's and my tummy felt slightly on the bloated side because of that.

Some mental ping-pong went back and forth and I decided I was willing to forgo some time in order to feel better down the road.  I squatted, released some gel-paste and in a swift 10-second production was back on the trail.  Whew, that felt good.  The bladder was still giving me "open the flood gates" signals, but I didn't want to stop again, so I didn't.  I was wearing a sweet pair of Injinji socks that I scored at packet pickup and unlike the sockless vulnerable feet I had at AR50, I figured the Injinji's could handle a little urine.  So yet again at another race I just pee'd my shorts and kept going (The socks did protect my feet from any painful blisters later on!)

Once I got through this bad-patch, I started moving again at 7min pace down to Charlton Lake.  I was so pumped to be hooking up with Joe and let that fuel me during this section.  I literally flew into the aid-station n (4:21), grabbed a few gels, received some encouragement from my wife, saw Joe fiddling with his jacket, and took off.

Joe caught back up and I was pretty eager to fill him in on how the race had been unfolding thus far.  He too was doctor-like in "examining me" to make sure I was taking in what I needed and still running with efficient mechanics.  The section from Charlton to Road 4290 Aid is so sweet and super fast.  Therefore, Joe and I made honest work of this section and I could feel that we were pushing a solid 7-8min pace.  "Elbows!" "Quick feet!" "Chin down, sternum down, chest forward!"  Like a drill instructor building up his soldiers with timely commands, Joe provided the right cues when I needed them.

We came into the aid at 4290 (mi 35.6, 5:04) and Joe suggested I down some Coke in order to get some quick cal's and salt.  I pounded a few cups and exclaimed, "Wow, that was goooooood!"  Like a sugar-rushed adolescent I felt all giddy after sucking down some of that liquid nectar.  "Dude, I'm totally doing that again at the next aid."  So from there, the plan at each aid was simple: Pound Coke, grab gels, refill, and then get the hell out of there!

This next portion of the course from 4290 up and over the Twins (7,362') would be a pretty big test for us and the uphill rollers are relentless and the upper-section of the Twins is a somewhat challenging climb.  To help ease the mood and add a little cheer to the mix, Joe decided to belt out some early 90's tunes.  Boyz 2 Men? TLC? Snoop Dogg? Nope. What came next was: "La Dadda Dee Da Da Da Da!" He chose La Bouche's "Be My Lover!"  Here we were, two grown men charging up this 2,000'+ climb, in unison, singing "Be My Lover." But it worked!

For a brief moment, that is.  Because just before the top, my energy levels hit the floor and I became pretty woozy.  "I'm bonking!" I belted out. Contrary to Joe's pacer report, after he told me not to eat up this climb, I really didn't.  So when I felt my body wanting some sugar, I sucked down a gel and after a few min on the ensuing descent, felt a little better.

Just about to the shoulder of The Twins. Photo: Phil Vaughn

The descent down to the aid at Twins #2 (mi 43.1) was pretty ugly though.  My quads were pre-cramping, my form was super inefficient, and I was thirsty.  I stumbled into the aid (6:20) half-dazed, but a few cups of Coke and some needed water and fuel did the trick. 

Up next we would be going down that douchey grade I had come up earlier.  And pretty much the next 6+mi's were essentially either flat or downhill which was awesome.  Therefore, Joe barked orders to get my downhill stride back in an efficient state and it did come around, but not as well as I'd liked.  From analyzing the splits, this is where Tim would begin to pull back some time on me (I had held my 8-9min lead for 13mi's since Charlton).

The long descent down to Gold Lake (mi 49.6) was pretty uneventful as I just tried to maintain an honest pace and keep pushing.  Joe and I tried switching it up at times in the pacing department where he would take the lead and try to pull me along.  It did help on some stretches, but on others I was just sort of out of it and in survival mode.  My quads were pretty trashed, but in spite of that, I was still able to keep moving decently well.

Soon enough, with the sun now shining and the last monster climb left, we rolled into Gold Lake Aid #2 and I was out just ahead of Joe.  I moved pretty well up Gold Lake Rd and I could hear Joe behind me trying to catch up and working pretty hard himself.  We eventually turned left onto the Maiden Peak Trail and made the pretty gentle-ish 3mi/1,000' climb up to the next aid (about 400' of that coming in the last 1/2mi of it).  Just before the aid, my climbing legs - on the steeper stuff - were starting to give-way and I ended up hiking (for the first time on the day) up to the aid (mi 53). 

Through here, Joe began to sense some urgency and got me out of there pretty quick and into the last big climb of the day: 3 more miles and 2,100' of gain up to the top of Maiden Peak (7,818').  I started climbing fairly descent initially, but from there, a gradual digression began to take place.  Running turned into shuffling, then shuffling turned into more hiking.  I just knew Tim was making up ground.  Not only is he a strong climber, but he is usually the strongest in the later stages of the race (as exhibited by recording the fastest last 38mi's of WS by a huge margin and a 58min clip from Hwy 49 to the finish; unreal!).  I kept telling myself I just needed to get to the top and I'd be able to close it out on the descent.  More hiking. Ugh!  Thankfully, Joe kept cracking the whip (which is what I needed) and kept emphasizing that we couldn't let Tim see us after descending Maiden Peak because if he smelled any blood, the hunt would be on.

"HOW MUCH FURTHER?!?!" Photo: Kelly Woodke

Thankfully, finally, we reached the top.  Ok, we had to get down as quickly as possible.  No sign of Tim. Perfect.  And then, there he was chugging up the climb and almost to the top.  I guesstimated my lead to be just over 1min.  There's still hope. 

Joe pushing me down Maiden Peak. Photo: Long Run Picture Co.

Joe then unleashed a string of expletives and hollered that we had to get down asap!  I tried my best down "Leap of Faith" (a brutally steep descent with boulders and rocks lining your path).  My quads hurt bad, but I tried to push.  And then, "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" I yelled out in pain as I hit the ground and my right calf seized up.  I had tripped on one of those boulders and landed awkwardly on my right leg, causing my calf to feel like it was tearing in two.  "GET UP! GET UP!!!!!!! Joe yelled. "Relax the foot! RELAX!" I did and got up and that seemed to help.  I shuffled for a few strides until I felt the calf fully release. How has Tim not caught up yet? Ok, back to work.

The trail was still pretty steep still and I picked my way down - each step painful as my quads protested the effort.  I kept my head on a swivel and looked for a charging Tim Olson.  A few huffs and puffs from behind and there he was.  "I was wondering when you were going to catch up, what took you so long?!" I said.  He laughed and congratulated me on an impressive run and on snagging a WS spot.  I asked him if he saw Ian (knowing full well that Ian can descend with the best of 'em) and was surprised to hear that he pulled out at mi 20.  Tim assured me that there was nobody close which was comforting to hear.  All I had to do was not blow it in the last 7.5mi's and I had, dare I say it, a coveted entry into WS '13.

Now with the "W" likely out of reach, I still made the effort to try and latch on to Tim.  He pulled into Maiden Lake Aid (mi 58) just ahead of me and left just before me.  I got what I needed and knew that if I could just get over these few rollers ahead, the rest would be super fast downhill/flat into the finish.  It was a rough going out from the aid, but with Joe's help and timely cues, my stride regained some of its former glory on the descent.  I was now moving again and just after Lower Rosary Lake - not even thinking about Tim at this point - a photographer (named Win) shouted, "He's 3min up!"  I then called ahead to Joe, "Should we go for it and try to get him?" "Let's do it." Joe replied.

Making the final push (with Joe in the background).  Photo: Win

The pace then kicked down from 8min pace to 7:30's and even though it hurt, it was a manageable pain it seemed.  As much as I wanted to kick it down even further into the 6min range, my legs just couldn't get there, so I resolved that Tim had it fully wrapped up and all I needed to do was cross the finish line, which, after cruising off the PCT and making a ~400m "sprint" back to the lodge, I finished 4min behind Tim in a time of 9:52:43, 2nd place and the first Montrail Ultra Cup WS entry of '12/'13.  I still can't believe it.

Joe's Pacer Report

My goodness.....I just want to lay down. Photo: Marc Laveson

Ok, much better.  And an incredible wife by my side:) Photo: Marc Laveson

I must've laid there for like 2hrs. Joe holding up my "Ticket to Western States" tag. Photo: LB

A very nasty foot with a very appropriate "name tag". Photo: Sara Rydman

NB 890v2's are legit.   See, Tim thinks so too! ha Photo: Marc Laveson



Yep, sounds about right. Hey, if you can tire out Tim Olson, you know you're having a good day:) Photo: LB

Sara said I look like I'm 40yrs old here (the denim "Jirt" doesn't help either).  Beauty and The Beast! Photo: OOJ

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Post-race Thoughts:

RD's Craig Thornley, Meghan Arbogast and Team - Western States picked the right man for the job as Craig was thorough, transparent, and professional in handling the unfortunate fires that took place on the course days before the race.  Craig put runner safety as the primary focus, but did all that he could to ensure this event would be run in such a way that everyone would be able to enjoy this beautiful course.  Thank you Craig, Meghan, and team!  Waldo was top-notch on every level.  Perfect course markings, outstanding volunteers and AS captains, ideal location, some of the best prizes I've seen, sweet bbq post-race, great community of folks to hang out with, and Maiden Peak!  I would recommend this race to anyone (but you have been warned that this is a tough course!).  The mantra I kept hearing: The pain of running 100mi's crammed into 100km.  Yeah, my body agrees.

Shoes - I went with the New Balance 890v2's (same shoe I wore for AR50).  There's a reason this is my go-to shoe for most runs.  Ideal weight-to-support ratio (9+oz/8mm drop/plenty of cushion for the long-haul).  My feet felt pretty good post-race. My joints didn't ache and I didn't experience any weird/unusual pain in my knees from all the descending or in any other place.  I'm thinking this is the shoe from Foresthill to the finish at WS (heck, maybe even for the whole race!).  When your leg muscles poop out in the later stages of a long ultra, you need a shoe to be there with the right amount of support and lightness to it and frankly, this shoe does it for me.

Friends and Family - God has blessed me with this gift to run and I pray that I use it wisely with an open hand and he is glorified through it.  It's been a wild journey (as following Him is) and I'm continually humbled by His love for me through the thick and thin of the craziness of life. Also, I was so glad Sara was able to be up there.  Her presence, love, and joy is contagious.  I really couldn't do it without her and continue to love her more each day simply for who she is and for God's love that pours from her heart.  And Joe, man, he sacrificed himself for the betterment of my race.  What a great friend and an awesome time that we got to run together. I really enjoyed my 5 days up in Oregon mostly hanging out with him. Looking forward to the trips he'll be making down here as we prepare for WS and eat barrels of pickled chips at the Auburn Alehouse.  New Balance Roseville is consistently awesome in their support and I'm so appreciative that they help me pursue my passion.  I hope that store is blessed in return and others support them as they support me. 

The Runners - Thank you to the early starters who I would come across at different points on the course.  You guys were awesome and it was fun to briefly chat and laugh on the way.  I have much respect too for all who toed the line at Waldo.  As one early starter said to me, "We're all in the same boat, some of us just do it a little faster."  So true, my thoughts exactly. 

Tim Olson - ...."This is the guy who took the bread out of Jimmy's mouth!".... You intentionally/unintentionally pushed me to a level I had yet to experience until then.  That's what it's all about.  Brothers out on the trail, pushing together, and bringing out the best in one another.  Thank you for that!  And I hope you bought A LOT of diapers with your winnings.  You are an awesome Dad.

Thank you all!