Headlands 50 - Race Report

Saturday (now two weeks ago) was a loooong day! Which means this is probably not going to be a short report (plus I'm not usually good at short). There is the summarised story here for those who want the not-quite-Cliff-Notes version. There's more here than most care for, so skim away.

The Really (Really!) Long Version

Pre-race:
Alarm goes off at 4.20am. J and T stay in bed, I grab my mashed sweet potato and crawl back under the sheets to eat. Eventually we all get up and ready, leaving a little later than planned at 5.20am. Easy 45 minute drive to race parking, and decide to not join the long line for the shuttle, instead opting to walk the half mile to the start line. TIP - Take the shuttle! Luckily someone with a pick up pulled over to give us and a couple others a ride so we could make it to the briefing in plenty of time. Checked in, numbers pinned on, briefing sort of heard, potty line joined, sunscreen and vaseline applied. Ready!

Nervous grin!

Start - Tennessee Valley:
At 7.00am, we're off. 50-, 75-, and 100-milers head immediately up the hill. Marathoners will be joining us shortly, they have an out-n-back along the shore to make up the additional mile before joining us on the 25-mile loop, so we start at the same time. Pretty sure some people got mixed up here.

Go go go! Slowly..

The hill felt easier than when I went up in March at Golden Gate Headlands half marathon. Chatting to a few people around, many returners to this race for both 50- and 100-mile distances, and it seemed a popular choice for a first hundred. Climb climb climb, sweaty already, then the fun downhill to Tennessee Valley aid station, trying not to think about going back up it at the end of the day. Pace felt quick but comfortable, but a glance at my watch told me to slow down - ~8:00min/mile this early was (for me - I'm slow after all) BAD! Bad Cyd. Before I knew it we were cruising into Tennessee Valley, gave my number, and was about to get going, but I heeded my rumbly tummy and paused at the porta-potty. Note to self - check it's set on level ground before trying to get out - nearly took the whole damn thing with me and that wouldn't have been pretty...

Tennessee Valley - Muir Beach

I left the aid station in good spirits, and headed off to follow the pink ribbons on the right, not far behind a couple other runners. Something wasn't quite right though. There were loads of us coming through the AS at the same time. Where'd everyone go? Mentally picturing my map, I realised that I should have been heading left, not right. Mentally cursing myself I double backed and followed the big crowd of number-clad runners that were headed on the yellow-ribboned trail that I should have been on. Concentrate! (Lucky I realised sooner than a guy I chatted with later - he made it two miles out up a pretty sizable hill, so added four miles to his day). There was a very brief flat section where I again had to watch my pace, getting caught up with runners stronger than myself and remembering to run my own race. Then again with the uphill.

After what felt like way longer than it really was, we hit some fun trail, and hopping down some stairs. I had to slow way down here (turtle pace, anyone?) to prevent falling face first and bouncing all the way down and off the cliff. This section had some of the best views of the day of the open ocean. We shortly came to a steep downhill that was to bring us to the Muir Beach aid station. Luckily down is my strong suit, so I was able to make up some of my hiking time without trashing my quads early on. Number taken, and I went to my Salt Point AS plan of a half dixie-cup each of coke, ginger ale, and water. Tummy still not feeling amazing. Onwards and hope for the best.

Muir Beach - Tennessee Valley

That steep downhill? Steeper going up, I swear. However, I did manage to fake about ten strides of running for the photographer (fair play to her getting as far up as she did with a 40lb pack!). I was near a lady from Seattle who had run this race before, who gave me some course and general ultra tips. We were nearly at the trail junction that we came from, and a guy coming down hill reassured us that we were nearly at the top. The lady mentioned that she didn't want me to be disappointed that we were nowhere near the top, that this was a stealthy hill with a lot of false finishes. She was right! I realised we must have some fairly steep down back to the AS, since it was a short section and we'd been mostly going up. We got there and it was a fun stretch down down down, with a couple areas to watch for loose surface, just waiting for the non-attentive runner. I was a bit sad to pass the rider who was pissed that I didn't know if a big group was behind me (how can I see behind me?) and nearly knocked me off the trail trying to squeeze past when there was an opening right ahead where it was safer. I know she was annoyed her trail ride was being messed up by runners, but trotting past people on a steep single track trail is not a good way to encourage positive trail relations. Grr. Back into Tennessee Valley a little ahead of my predicted time, but close enough. I easily found my drop bag, and grabbed a baggie of Tailwind out of it. I got my pack open and dumped the Tailwind in, then held it while a volunteer filled it with water for me. Time to go!

Tennessee Valley - Fort Baker

Leaving TV this time, we headed up Marinello, a trail I was familiar with from the half in March. It's a long steady climb, with some nice views across the bay (many more buildings than I'm used to seeing lol). It was getting a bit warmer by now, so I paused a couple of times for a quick breather in the shade, conscious to not over-heat my 'Fog Bragg' wussie self, as well as being sure to keep sipping from my pack. (Note: Still not warm by most people's standards..) A guy came hammering down the hill and at first I assumed recreational runner. Then I noticed the number! We were at 14 miles and this guy was around 35 miles. He was in the 100, and not wasting any time. It was also around here that my stomach really started talking, and I felt pretty nauseous. It wasn't hot enough/tired enough/pushing hard enough to be related to either of those, and not only has the Tailwind been serving me well, we weren't that far in. I took myself a little off trail and as I expected, there went half my breakfast. Thanks to the two people who stopped to check on me, and give me a tissue to wipe my face. Running and hurling don't go hand in hand for me, in the past there has always been external factors (typically previous night's alcohol consumption). I kept sipping on my pack and went back to hiking up the hill. Still not feeling great, and another puking incident before I got to the aid station. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself, but the volunteers were great and cheerful, and had good suggestions regarding my tummy troubles. I drank some ginger ale, and got a wet napkin to wipe my face - very refreshing. I probably lingered the longest here, and thought about eating something but wasn't sure what might sit best so opted out and got on my way.

Not looking as bad as I felt. Also, there's actually definition in my quad. Yay!

Fort Baker - Start/Finish

Coming back up the single track from the aid station I had to pull over a few times for those coming down, a few marathoners still behind me, and ultras out on their second loop. Downhill runners had priority at this race, and this was really the only stretch where two way traffic was a problem. We headed back the way we came in, and up on the ridge was T on her way down! Yay for friendly face. I didn't (I don't think?) let on how bad I felt, and she seemed to be doing well (Most definitely better than her previous marathon). We chatted for less than a minute and went our separate ways. There was a bit of a breeze which felt really good, and I fell in behind a couple of people and started running again, there was a mostly flat section, though narrow and with great views to distract klutzes such as myself, then a long downhill section back to the road we drove in on that would take us to the aid station. I was starting to feel better, but not making up any time that I'd lost. While I may have been able to push a little harder, I was very conscious that I still had a marathon left. There were a lot of beach goers and bikers and hikers around, many of which were very encouraging. I got to the aid station and quickly found my drop bag. I re-sunscreened and filled my pack with more Tailwind and water. A swig of ginger ale and I was on my way.

Behind me is one of the many hills we went up

Start/Finish - Fort Baker

This race does 'washing machine' loops, so you switch direction on each lap. There were pros and cons to this, we knew what was coming up but hadn't actually faced it yet. After the short stretch of road we were back on the trail, and I soon fell in with a guy I had been leapfrogging with all day. He was a stronger runner than me, but took longer in aid stations so I kept catching and passing him there. It was nice having company up the hill, a wide open fire road that was long and boring. We didn't see many others coming down, but did run into T again. No stopping this time, just a quick cheer and she set off down the hill to the finish line, while my buddy and I plugged on up. It started leveling out enough for him to start running again and he sped off away, and I tried to stay out of my own head. I really should have put some music on. I was soon back on the ridge, where it was now incredibly windy. It got a little frustrating on the single track down to the AS since there were a lot of hikers around now, but also the uphill runners (who were mostly hiking) weren't yielding trail so I had to keep breaking my stride to get past. I know I'm slow, and we're all a bit tired, but a little courtesy would have been really nice. It was around here that I was noticing a twinge-y something in my right hip (the good one), but decided to ignore it. I zipped (haha right) along to the AS, got my cup of ginger ale and another damp cloth and got right back out of there.

The wind brought more clouds - Happy Cyd

Fort Baker - Tennessee Valley

The same guy from the previous uphill caught back up to me again, and it was nice to have company heading up the hill. I was making a very conscious effort to not waste any flat-ish ground, even if it was only for ten strides of running. The wind was still nasty up on the ridge, enough that I actually had to concentrate on being upright. Run drunk conversation was along the lines of 'is it better to be short but small enough to blow away, or tall and weighted down, but feeling like a weeble-wobble?' I was on my own again, and telling myself that if I was feeling it as much walking as I was running then I might as well be running. A confused hundred miler was up at the trail junction unsure of which direction to go, but also not giving helpful information to try and point him in the right direction. We sussed it out for him and sent him on his way - hope he didn't get lost in the dark. The long downhill stretch on Marinello was just what I needed, and I rolled into the AS with a sore hip, but none other worse for wear. I nearly fell out the porta-potty again, but both I and it stayed upright. A refill of my pack with more tailwind and water, no ginger ale this time since my stomach was feeling good. I also grabbed my flashlight since I would be racing the sunset to get back to my drop bag in time. Only two aid stations left!

Tennessee Valley - Muir Beach

The uphill out of the AS was actually not as bad as I was expecting after having come down it. However, there were a lot more hills after that than I remembered. I kept thinking that any time now I would hit the long down into Muir Beach, and it just never came. I knew this was only a four mile stretch, and a good chunk was that steep-ish hill, but it felt so much longer. Some of the fast hundreds were already heading past me in the other direction on their third loop, mostly with cheerful fresh-legged pacers - it wasn't hard to spot the difference :) For a while I was hiking with a guy running his first hundred, we had leap frogged since our first visit to Fort Baker, each time announcing 'No Walking' to whichever one of us was walking at the time. Finally the downhill came and I trotted along with a bit of a hitch in my gait, trying to decide if I was hydrated enough for advil. Pretty sure I was, but I wanted to feel it to make sure I wasn't doing any real damage. I wish I could say I wanted to be like a real bad-ass ultra runner. That would be lying, just needed to make sure I could walk and work at some point in the next week. The volunteers at Muir Beach were really cheerful, and very proud of their soup - mixing Campbells and Progresso for 'Super-Soup'. I passed, drank some water, and moved on.

How did I forget this? Cruel joke!

Muir Beach - Tennessee Valley

I was so happy to find that I could actually still run some on this stretch. The first few strides were really painful on my my hip, but then it stopped and I could run. Woohoo! I've heard a few people saying "If you start to feel good during an ultra, don't worry, you'll get over it". We hit the stairs, and I started limping along again.

7 miles to go

Luckily I could take my mind off it with the gorgeous views before the sun went down. While I think sunset was a big mental block for me and definitely something I need to be more mentally prepared for, it was pretty spectacular:

I left it as long as I could before turning on my flashlight, and made it to the smoother trail before it was too dark to see much. The trail up to this point wasn't bad or technical, just not super smooth for the uncoordinated. Luckily, I had my 'stabby torch', a gift from J to be sure I was safe in the dark (think he's more planning ahead for training runs than during the race).

About a mile from the AS I gave up on my hip and started hiking with as much purpose as I could muster. I think my brain was actually more the culprit here, it was dark and my head said we were done with this activity. Definitely something to work on. I was sad to see that the lady from Seattle was seriously considering dropping at the AS due to back pain. I had been 'chasing' her as my motivation throughout the day and didn't like passing her when she was just about crawling (though I discovered later that she did finish!). Finally the lights of Tennessee Valley came into view. I was nearly home! I only paused for a moment to see if they were taking numbers, and ran into C - our camping buddy from Big Basin. He was volunteering, and it was nice to see a familiar, if not very familiar, face. We chatted for a moment before I mentioned that if I stopped for any longer I might not get going again and left the well lit tent to venture off into the darkness again.

Tennessee Valley - Finish Line

Right as I'm leaving the aid station, a volunteer comes in and says "They're here". Um? Then he turns to me, and says "Oh, this might not be fun for you, I didn't think of that. See those lights bobbing around up the hill? The Night Sweats Marathon runners are coming down the trail you'll be heading up". At this point I was completely okay with taking breaks to let them pass, and mostly there was room enough that nobody had to move off trail. Only one or two people needed a gentle reminder that it was a two way trail and they didn't need to be next to each other the entire time and could maybe pass me single file and not bowl me down. The headlamps were not easy for my eyes trying to adjust, but if I mostly kept my gaze down on the trail right ahead of me it wasn't too bad. It was great having the energy of fresh runners not far into their race cheering as they came by. But then they were mostly past, and I was by myself again. I risked looking at my watch. I still had three more miles. I know, only three miles. But it seemed like a really long way to go and it was dark and cold and I was tired and I can be a whiny little crybaby when I'm tired and cold and it's dark and I'm all alone and why did I think this was a good idea? I might have actually blubbed a bit, although I didn't really cry. I really want to sit down and have a little sulk, but realised every time I stopped it got really cold, and I was high enough that it was pretty windy again. When I realised that I could curl up to keep warm I knew I definitely could NOT let myself sit down and sulk and it was time to go home. Newly resolved but not really more cheerful I trudged my way up the hill. And there was the top! Yippee. A bit of flat, then down down down to the finish. I text T and let her know that I COULD SEE THE FINISH. I put the phone back in my pack and scanned for my next ribbon/glow stick. What? Why are we going uphill in the wrong direction? There's not much more than a mile to go. Noooooo! It wasn't far before heading down, and I hit more stairs. I forgot about these:

At least there was a hand rail!

On my way down, I realised that while my hip hurt, I was actually feeling better. I tried running a bit and it was sore but doable. It didn't last long, and a strong runner that I had seen a lot throughout the day had caught up. He was dropping from the hundred due to a knee issue that wouldn't let him run at all. I actually thought he was way ahead of me, after not seeing him since he sailed past me on our way back from Fort Baker the second time. I thanked him for keeping an eye out for me throughout the day, reminding me to watch my pacing, checking I was getting enough calories, and so on. Finally there was the gate to the car park and the finish line. J and T were stood there cheering runners in and didn't realise it was me until I cheered back! I sucked up enough energy to run the last little stretch and finally finally crossed the line!

Wheeeeeeee!

I FINISHED MY FIRST FIFTY MILE RACE! And immediately began planning my next adventure...