The only thing that I have vivid memories from two years ago at Zane Grey are the aid stations, passing Olga early, her passing me later on while I sat on a big flat sandstone rock halfway up a beastly climb, and the last few miles into the finish. I started in the dark and finished well into the dark. Everything else in my mind is thoroughly mixed up, regarding the course. All I knew is that training for the race this time around on the absolute rockiest terrain I could find was a top priority. The one thing in the back of my mind that occasionally surfaced in the weeks leading up to the race was that I didn’t do any specific hill training for the race (a.k.a. hill repeats or step mill work). Why? Well, I really don’t have a good answer. Kind of stupid if you think about it, considering there’s 11,000 feet of elevation gain in the race. Maybe, part of my lack of total preparation has to do with something called “life”. My running, while integrated into my routine, isn’t the top priority. But, I still have this grandiose idea I can still do well if I make just ensure the workouts I do complete as high quality, as possible. That’s the plan, anyway…
Olga and I went for a short walk on the first mile, or so, of the course late Friday afternoon. I didn’t realize my breathing was labored until she mentioned it to me during the walk. That’s not normal for me to experience at 5,000 feet, even though I’m a flatlander. I do know I was feeling a little “off” earlier in the week and wonder if this contributed to how I was feeling during the flat walk.
I had a lot of nervous energy on race morning. I was eager to get going and the 5am start had to be the most low key beginning of any race I have experience. We all headed out like a herd of turtles, almost immediately, onto the initial wide single-track. It was still pitch dark with just a very slight hint of the approaching dawn on the lowest portion of the eastern horizon. I stopped using my flashlight early, since there were so many others with a light. The first climb of the day came soon and I noticed my heart rate was a little high for the effort and the altitude. It was a long conga line all the way to the top. I made it into the first aid station at 8 miles between my two time goals. I continued the same pace for the next 9+ mile stretch into the next aid station. I was really working on holding back and being ultra conservative with my pace. I have a healthy dose of respect for the course, even if I don’t remember much about it. But, I do remember how difficult the miles from 17 to 33 would be, based on what I’ve read and personal experiences. I was, also, pleased that I had trained on the identical running surface for the past two months in Austin. It made dealing with the rocks more manageable. During my training runs back home, I had created a route specific to what I knew I would encounter on the race course. My nemesis for the day would be lack of hill training. It was the most underprepared I had ever been for hills, and that made me nervous in the weeks leading up to the race.
The miles between Washington Park and the Fish Hatchery were long and arduous. There were times on the trail where all I could do was laugh and smile. It’s really difficult to put in words or pictures just how insanely rocky the course is in places. In addition, if there wasn’t flagging on the course, it would be impossible to even determine where the trail was located. This was especially true in the grassy areas where everything looked the same. I made it to Hell’s Gate (mile 23 or 25, depending on who you talk to…) in 5:29. The aid station volunteers said I was halfway there. I jokingly disagreed and told them the halfway point was at mile 33. I stayed just long enough to fill my bottles and headed out directly into a climb, bushwhacking my way up the trail. I knew the next 10+ mile section was considered one of the most difficult parts of the race. I had tempered my pace until Hell’s Gate hoping it was ensure I had enough in the tank to finish without struggling too much. I knew the first half of the next section was the most difficult and I continued to be conservative with my effort in hopes of preventing a complete unraveling before the finish. I, honestly, don’t remember much about this section, other than getting passed by many runners. I continued to struggle with the uphills and had to force myself to take gels. I try to keep my nutrition plans simple. Drink at least 20oz fluid (containing electrolytes) each hour and take a gel every 30 minutes. Plus, an S-cap every hour, too. The goal is 300 calories/hour. Thankfully, it seems to work for me. I made it to the Fish Hatchery at mile 33 unscathed and feeling great. I spent way too much time organizing for the next 11+ mile section, but I wanted to get it right before I left for the trail. As I walked down the road to the trail, I eyed a volunteer carrying a bag of ice. It was at that moment I wanted to jump into an entire pool of ice. I was smiling and keeping up my spirits. She commented on how strong I looked. Maybe, I am a good actor.
Not too long after hitting the trail, my spirits took a downturn. I really didn’t want to deal with any more ridiculously rocky climbs. I began to feel like Moses in the wilderness. I questioned why I was out on the trail. Why do I run these distances? Am I really cut out to do this stuff? Am I really a runner? How is Olga doing? I hope she’s doing well, since it’s her first big test since last Fall’s injury. On occasion, I would look behind me to take in the views and see if, by chance, Olga was there. I had thoughts that is she caught me, I would tell her to keep going and leave me to my own self pity. As, I continued, I continued to get passed by other runners. I was seriously considering dropping at mile 44, knowing Angie would be there, eventually, to crew Olga. I didn’t see the point in finishing. But, eventually, something clicked. I don’t know what it was, but I felt a sudden burst of energy. On every flattish section and downhill, I began to run strong. The more I ran, the more I wanted to run. And, the trail seemed to get easier the farther I went. I was looking around more at the gorgeous scenery. It was breathtaking. And, then, I began passing people. And, it was great to hear the encouragement from others as I would pass by. My legs felt fresh and all I could think of was how much fun I was having out in the forest. Once in awhile, I would begin yelling and hollering to the wind. I felt reborn. I was climbing up the hills very strong, as if they were the first ones of the day. I made it into mile 44 with a smile on my face. The section I just ran were my fastest miles of the day, thus far. I, quickly, refilled my bottles, ate a gel, and ran out of the aid station.
I continued running strong and passing some more runners. I felt bad passing a few, because I closed on them so quickly, that I startled a few of them. I apologized as I passed. After crossing a creek, the final big climb began. After fifteen minutes without seeing a yellow ribbon, I became concerned I was not on the correct trail. Eventually, I stopped, and began walking and jogging back down the trail. I had passed a woman earlier and wanted to wait for her to see if she came up the trail. After a few minutes I saw her down below and yelled to her, asking if I was going the right way. She said “yes”, and mentioned she remembered this section from last year. I turned and began running, again. After, about 10 more minutes, I, finally, saw a yellow ribbon. Whew! I continued running and even ran a few of the shorter uphill sections. The late afternoon light was emphasizing the terrain quite beautifully. I looked at my watch and knew I had a slim to none chance of breaking Olga’s best of 12:15. All I could think was, “she’s a bad ass!”. As I crested a climb, a man sitting on a rock watching the runners said it was 10 minutes to the finish. Damn! I, immediately began running, since I thought his estimate was based on walking pace. Those final 6 miles were the fastest of the day for me. As I was running along the trail, I saw a group of people sitting on large boulders. It was at this moment that I realized it was the finish line. I was smiling and happy. It is a unique way of finishing, not knowing until the last hundred feet, or so, that you’re done--12:36. Definitely, not my goal finish time, but I was very happy with those last 17 miles. It was the strongest I have ever finished a 50 miler. I, eventually, found Angie and asked her about Olga. I was excited to hear she was doing great after wanting to stop at mile 33. After, getting some much needed hydration at the finish, I sat on a large sandstone rock waiting for Olga. And, there she was, all smiles. I think she even surprised herself. She asked how I did and my response to her, as I smiled, was, “you’re a bad ass!”. I have to admit, I really like the Zane Grey course. I’m already entertaining the thought of when I’ll be back…
Olga and I went for a short walk on the first mile, or so, of the course late Friday afternoon. I didn’t realize my breathing was labored until she mentioned it to me during the walk. That’s not normal for me to experience at 5,000 feet, even though I’m a flatlander. I do know I was feeling a little “off” earlier in the week and wonder if this contributed to how I was feeling during the flat walk.
I had a lot of nervous energy on race morning. I was eager to get going and the 5am start had to be the most low key beginning of any race I have experience. We all headed out like a herd of turtles, almost immediately, onto the initial wide single-track. It was still pitch dark with just a very slight hint of the approaching dawn on the lowest portion of the eastern horizon. I stopped using my flashlight early, since there were so many others with a light. The first climb of the day came soon and I noticed my heart rate was a little high for the effort and the altitude. It was a long conga line all the way to the top. I made it into the first aid station at 8 miles between my two time goals. I continued the same pace for the next 9+ mile stretch into the next aid station. I was really working on holding back and being ultra conservative with my pace. I have a healthy dose of respect for the course, even if I don’t remember much about it. But, I do remember how difficult the miles from 17 to 33 would be, based on what I’ve read and personal experiences. I was, also, pleased that I had trained on the identical running surface for the past two months in Austin. It made dealing with the rocks more manageable. During my training runs back home, I had created a route specific to what I knew I would encounter on the race course. My nemesis for the day would be lack of hill training. It was the most underprepared I had ever been for hills, and that made me nervous in the weeks leading up to the race.
The miles between Washington Park and the Fish Hatchery were long and arduous. There were times on the trail where all I could do was laugh and smile. It’s really difficult to put in words or pictures just how insanely rocky the course is in places. In addition, if there wasn’t flagging on the course, it would be impossible to even determine where the trail was located. This was especially true in the grassy areas where everything looked the same. I made it to Hell’s Gate (mile 23 or 25, depending on who you talk to…) in 5:29. The aid station volunteers said I was halfway there. I jokingly disagreed and told them the halfway point was at mile 33. I stayed just long enough to fill my bottles and headed out directly into a climb, bushwhacking my way up the trail. I knew the next 10+ mile section was considered one of the most difficult parts of the race. I had tempered my pace until Hell’s Gate hoping it was ensure I had enough in the tank to finish without struggling too much. I knew the first half of the next section was the most difficult and I continued to be conservative with my effort in hopes of preventing a complete unraveling before the finish. I, honestly, don’t remember much about this section, other than getting passed by many runners. I continued to struggle with the uphills and had to force myself to take gels. I try to keep my nutrition plans simple. Drink at least 20oz fluid (containing electrolytes) each hour and take a gel every 30 minutes. Plus, an S-cap every hour, too. The goal is 300 calories/hour. Thankfully, it seems to work for me. I made it to the Fish Hatchery at mile 33 unscathed and feeling great. I spent way too much time organizing for the next 11+ mile section, but I wanted to get it right before I left for the trail. As I walked down the road to the trail, I eyed a volunteer carrying a bag of ice. It was at that moment I wanted to jump into an entire pool of ice. I was smiling and keeping up my spirits. She commented on how strong I looked. Maybe, I am a good actor.
Not too long after hitting the trail, my spirits took a downturn. I really didn’t want to deal with any more ridiculously rocky climbs. I began to feel like Moses in the wilderness. I questioned why I was out on the trail. Why do I run these distances? Am I really cut out to do this stuff? Am I really a runner? How is Olga doing? I hope she’s doing well, since it’s her first big test since last Fall’s injury. On occasion, I would look behind me to take in the views and see if, by chance, Olga was there. I had thoughts that is she caught me, I would tell her to keep going and leave me to my own self pity. As, I continued, I continued to get passed by other runners. I was seriously considering dropping at mile 44, knowing Angie would be there, eventually, to crew Olga. I didn’t see the point in finishing. But, eventually, something clicked. I don’t know what it was, but I felt a sudden burst of energy. On every flattish section and downhill, I began to run strong. The more I ran, the more I wanted to run. And, the trail seemed to get easier the farther I went. I was looking around more at the gorgeous scenery. It was breathtaking. And, then, I began passing people. And, it was great to hear the encouragement from others as I would pass by. My legs felt fresh and all I could think of was how much fun I was having out in the forest. Once in awhile, I would begin yelling and hollering to the wind. I felt reborn. I was climbing up the hills very strong, as if they were the first ones of the day. I made it into mile 44 with a smile on my face. The section I just ran were my fastest miles of the day, thus far. I, quickly, refilled my bottles, ate a gel, and ran out of the aid station.
I continued running strong and passing some more runners. I felt bad passing a few, because I closed on them so quickly, that I startled a few of them. I apologized as I passed. After crossing a creek, the final big climb began. After fifteen minutes without seeing a yellow ribbon, I became concerned I was not on the correct trail. Eventually, I stopped, and began walking and jogging back down the trail. I had passed a woman earlier and wanted to wait for her to see if she came up the trail. After a few minutes I saw her down below and yelled to her, asking if I was going the right way. She said “yes”, and mentioned she remembered this section from last year. I turned and began running, again. After, about 10 more minutes, I, finally, saw a yellow ribbon. Whew! I continued running and even ran a few of the shorter uphill sections. The late afternoon light was emphasizing the terrain quite beautifully. I looked at my watch and knew I had a slim to none chance of breaking Olga’s best of 12:15. All I could think was, “she’s a bad ass!”. As I crested a climb, a man sitting on a rock watching the runners said it was 10 minutes to the finish. Damn! I, immediately began running, since I thought his estimate was based on walking pace. Those final 6 miles were the fastest of the day for me. As I was running along the trail, I saw a group of people sitting on large boulders. It was at this moment that I realized it was the finish line. I was smiling and happy. It is a unique way of finishing, not knowing until the last hundred feet, or so, that you’re done--12:36. Definitely, not my goal finish time, but I was very happy with those last 17 miles. It was the strongest I have ever finished a 50 miler. I, eventually, found Angie and asked her about Olga. I was excited to hear she was doing great after wanting to stop at mile 33. After, getting some much needed hydration at the finish, I sat on a large sandstone rock waiting for Olga. And, there she was, all smiles. I think she even surprised herself. She asked how I did and my response to her, as I smiled, was, “you’re a bad ass!”. I have to admit, I really like the Zane Grey course. I’m already entertaining the thought of when I’ll be back…
1 comment:
How come you never holler when we run together, and I am the only one feeling stupid to yell out loud? You did me proud with your finish, and most importantly - your attitude. Way to go! Now, for the next time...look behind even closer, because I'll be stocking you! :) Happy anniversary, sweetie.
Bad Ass.
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