Rio Del Lago 100

Saturday morning found me huddled at the start of my 3rd 100 mile start line. Sunday morning saw me crossing under my 2nd 100 mile finish arch. 30 hours 58 minutes and 50 seconds of running, walking, shuffling. Unfortunately an official finish, to receive a buckle and WS100 lottery entry, had to be under 30 hours. While in that respect my time was a little disappointing, I'm not letting it diminish the fact that I covered 100 miles on my own 2 feet. It was also 2.5 hours faster than my Zion 100 time, so I set a huge PR. So many things went right on this course, but I was hampered by skin issues and once again the crazy blistering on my feet. The blisters themselves were worse than San Diego, and I toughed it out, forcing myself to run on them. I could give you some gory details, but I'll spare you... Frustratingly all the reasons I thought the blisters were bad at San Diego did not apply at RDL, so back to the drawing board there. One thing that may have contributed is the fact that I lubed my feet while getting dressed, something I did when I first started running but don't usually do in training. I feel like I may have done the same thing at SD100 but don't remember. Maybe adding too much moisture? I have a great foot book than I will be ransacking for ideas.

Sunrise #1

This race I'm proud of my pacing, and nutrition. I didn't quite stay on nutrition plan, fairly early in the race my gag reflex decided swallowing solid food wasn't an option. I could, however, still suck down gels, so that's what I stuck with, along with soda at the aid stations. I was well hydrated all day. I had a little stomach upset in the early miles, where the key word seemed to be "Evacuate" and that is all I'll say on the matter. A chunk of ginger seemed to help settle everything down (and burned the crap out of my mouth, this may be where my excellent hydration came from). It was so hard to watch the race leave early in the morning, but it paid off later in the day. My big big mistake came at Auburn Lake Trails aid station. I cruised in with my awesome pacer Julie, volunteers took care of refilling my pack with water and the gels I asked for while I got what I needed from my drop bag and drank a cup of broth. We moved through the aid station efficiently, and got back on trail refreshed but having not wasted any time. About 5 minutes later, my food alarm went off, and we agreed I should go ahead and stick to my nutrition plan even though I had just had some broth. Now I know. DO NOT MIX GELS WITH BROTH!!!! I didn't actually throw up, but I was very nauseous for a few hours and couldn't take anything in. Julie saved my race by making sure that I kept a Jolly Rancher hard candy in my mouth at all times, swapping occasionally for a ginger candy. This kept a steady trickle of sugar in my system and staved off the worst of the bonk. She also had me run periodically whenever we hit good footing, even if it was just 5 strides at a time. This kept me moving, kept me warm, and made sure I didn't fall into too much of a death march. I was reappling lube every ten minutes or so, trying to ease my discomfort enough to only have to block out the pain of my feet. Walking wasn't so bad, but running created an intense burning sensation that, on top of my shredded feet, was incredibly difficult to ignore. I think without even one of these problems, I might have made the official finish time. I kept telling Julie that I just needed to make it to Overlook (the last major climb of the course, and a huge mental obstacle to get over). I made it!

Feeling good on Meat Grinder Pass1 (not so much coming back...)

Ordinarily I would be delighted by a long non-technical downhill section at this point in a race, but downhill was harder than up due to the impact on my feet, and this stretch was a mixture of paved and gravel road that sent searing pain through my feet. My pacer was Elicia for this section, and she employed the same tactic she used at SD100 - my feet will go numb soon. We both know this isn't true, but it made me laugh, which at 3:30 am and nearly 80 miles, whatever works! We kept moving but it was slow, and suddenly I was scarily close to the mile 83 cutoff. Elicia had recently checked her phone to be sure she knew the cutoff times. I rolled into the aid station at 6:09 with the intention of recording my number and getting right back out, with or without pacer #3 Bob - he could catch me up if he wasn't ready. By the time I found someone, he called me back and said it was too late, the station closed at 6:06. Elicia pulled the aid station chart on her phone to show the guy it said 6:10 and told me to leave, that she would take care of it. Soon after, Bob and Elicia were behind me swapping gear. I realised I had no choice but to go as fast as I could possibly make myself. It took all my strength to ignore the pain from my blisters and chafe, but I ran as hard as I could, and power hiked anywhere else. It wasn't far to the next aid station. We passed through there quickly, and kept moving. I was all too aware that I still had to make it through the meat grinder. In the 10 miles after leaving Rattlesnake aid, I passed about 10 people. I was so close to making it, until the stretch coming into Granite Beach. If I never run into a Granite Beach aid station ever again, I'll be happy. It took forever. We got really close to the beach and then we looped away away again. I nearly cried. I cursed a bunch. I slowly saw my finish slipping away from me. When we finally made it at 29 hours, I knew it would take me more than an hour to get to the finish line. I asked the aid station workers if there was a cutoff I had missed, or if I was good to continue. I may not be making an official finish, but there was no way in hell I was quitting at mile 95!!! 

Waterfall on the way to No Hands

I made it about 5 minutes out of the aid station when it occurred to me I could slow my blistering pace (Ha!) - if I wasn't making an official finish it didn't matter if I came in at 30:02 or 30:30. This was another big mistake. Without having a time goal to fight for, I allowed myself to feel how much pain I was in, to realise that I couldn't possibly swallow another gel, and oh dear god I was exhausted. I fell into having to tell myself that, no matter how bad I felt, I could take just one more step. It worked, but we were reduced to tiny baby steps, barely lifting my foot off the ground. I also started commenting on runners passing us (not racers, people just out for their Sunday run). "Oh look at me running up the hill, I'm such a showoff, neener neener". We made a game out of guessing how far they were going based on speed and how much water they were carrying. Some supportive mountain bikers told me I was nearly there (which in the grand scheme of things, I was, but not really). Most of them got comments along the line of "arsehole" or "liar" and fortunately those that heard me took it with a giggle, at least understanding why I was a miserable cow. One guy stopped in the middle of the trail in front of us and was apologizing for getting so close to us and he was really sorry and it wasn't ok for him to do that, to which I growled that I didn't have time for this shit and to get out of my way. I think Bob maybe explained, but I didn't even remember the guy passing us and he was pretty distinctive so I think he was talking about someone else. I knew if I stopped, I wasn't going anywhere again. We were nearly at the levee when we saw Elicia coming toward us, worried that I'd dropped and nobody had told her, or that something had happened to us on the trail. She said it had taken her 20 minutes to get to where she met us, so maybe 30 minutes for me to get back. It was reassuring to know I was so close, and I tried picking up my hiking pace (still barely above a crawl, but it was an effort). Getting onto the levee was amazing, I could hear the music and see the finish line, and even hear people cheering. As we got to the final path leading to the arch I was able to break into a shuffle, where a bunch of volunteers made a human arch for me across the finish line. I had finally made it!

It was a beautiful course, I could have taken many more pictures

Recovery has been surprisingly quick - except the blisters and chafe. They are still painful 3 days later. Other than that, I even feel like I could go for an easy run. I'm also exceptionally tired quite often - yesterday I accidentally took a 3 hour nap and it didn't affect my night time sleep. I feel like I ran a well-executed race. Time to go research blisters and NOT browse UltraSignup after a few beers...

Pre-Rio Round-Up

5 days!!! 5 days until my 3rd attempt at the 100 mile distance, and hopefully my 2nd buckle. I've (again) been terrible at blogging. Blame a combination of being very busy at work (yay!), dealing with regular horse injuries (boo!), and a new puppy (yay!). So enjoy a bullet point post to catch you up before the 100 mile adventure kicks off at the end of this week!

• Oscar - starting with the not-quite-running-related news. Oscar is a Pedigree Mutt from the Ukiah Animal Shelter. He's a little bit running related since he will be my future training partner. He's 4 months old, completely adorable, and already a solid member of the family.
  

• Sonoma Ultra - The 50k which became a half marathon when I decided to bail at mile 9. I still got a decently long training run in, but I realised I was looking at a 10 hour(!!!) 50k. Who knew there were trails like that in Santa Rosa? Scena Performance put on a great event, and I look forward to running with them again in the future.
• Sock Decisions - Of course some minor crisis occurs before a big race. I decided I couldn't possibly settle on a sock selection. I love my compression socks, but they take SO LONG to take off/put on that it's just not practical during a race. I definitely feel the benefits using compression post-event, but not so much during. I wear them more for leg protection against brush more than the possible benefits they provide. Which led to a whole bunch of sock experiments, until I finally realised that the Darn Tough Coolmax socks I wear as my 2nd layer sock could just be doubled up. After a 13 mile test, it's what I'm going with for Rio. 
• Shoes - I'm back in Altra, at least for the time being. I really love the Carsons, but they don't (yet?) offer a cushioned enough shoe for me to run the longer distances. The Olympus is my ultra friend, and it seems the problem with blow outs may be resolved. I only heard of it on trail shoes, but maybe because I mainly know trail runners. There will be more road running in my spring training as I shoot for my first triathlon, and Carson only makes trail shoes. The delightfully soft soles will shred too quickly, but I will be wearing them for my trail runs.
• Auburn/Tahoe - With my Dad in town, and having done most of the Fort Bragg activities, we set off for a night training run with Mel on the Rio course, a hike on part of the loop I'm not familiar with, and some hiking in Tahoe - the first few miles of the Western States course, and a 7 hour hike, both at elevation. Fun adventures.
• Oakland Hills - The original plan for my Dad's visit was to run his first marathon, but fitting that in with Rio so close just wasn't an option. We instead opted for this Inside Trail event. A 1/2 marathon seemed like a great event to celebrate my birthday. We went painfully slow, trying to avoid a raised heart rate, not get injured, and a last minute fueling test and experiment with a new jacket (Patagonia Houdini - short version - love it!)
  
• Fuel - I've been experimenting for a while, with both solid foods and "traditional" running fuels. I've settled on Huma gels, Honey Stinger gels, and Gu Stroopwafels, along with some real food and soda. 

Full reviews will come after the post-race report. I'm planning on taking the rest of November off from training to allow for full recovery. The current plan is (assuming I don't get lucky in the Western States lottery) to switch focus a bit and gear towards the Napa Triathlon, either olympic distance or half-iron, depending on how much I can improve my swim technique. In the meantime, let's go run 100 miles!!!!

Recovery Week

Major lesson learned from Headlands 50 last week? Eat All The Food! While a main goal of running this race was to practice fueling with something other than tailwind, I did ok. I ate. Sporadically. Not enough. It was a few days before I was moving around like normal and still had a fake amount of fatigue in my legs by mid week. I'm still confident that my slow recovery was due to not taking in enough calories during and immediately after the run. I also didn't drink enough water after, the day after, and most if this week. I've at least tried to watch that the food I choose has some kind of nutritional value, and adding a giant green smoothie daily.

Big River

This week I experimented with samples I received from Gu Energy (stroopwafels) and Pacific Health Labs  (AccelGel), as well as fruit snacks. Yes, the little kid jelly things that the label tells you are healthy! If it's not something like whole fruit or potatoes, and I'm using it for fuel, it's probably not healthy. Delicious little sugar bombs.

I went for 2 shorter run/hike combos, one testing the new Black Diamond Distance-Z poles, and one that due to some, er, trail exploration, we added a bit more distance than my buddy was hoping for (though still short). By the weekend I was finally feeling good, and decided to try a mid-length back to back long run. Yesterday a 9-miler with Sid, some extra hiking to test the poles a little more. Slow but steady, body felt good. This morning I met Brie and Rachel for 5 miles along Big River, and then headed out for another 7 solo. Considering how sore I was for most of the week I'm happy with my 30 mile week, 21 of which were in 2 days.

Switching fueling methods makes me feel like a complete beginner again, it's taking a lot of getting used to. Fortunately it seems that I'm actually handling calories pretty well. I added a timer to my watch so it beeps every 25 minutes to remind me to have a snack - a big problem with Headlands was simply forgetfulness. Oh yeah, food, I should do that.

A moment of quiet in Russian Gulch

So much to learn. 100 miler in 47 days!

Headlands Hundred 50 Miler

Third time lucky - an ultra finish for me! After my DNF at Pioneer a few weeks ago, I signed up for the 50 at Headlands Hundred. It was my first 50 in 2014 and I completed then, and a generous cutoff (the 100 mile has 33 hours, and that is somewhat flexible thanks to awesomely supportive race management). As long as you can keep crawling in a vaguely forward direction, you can get it done. Exactly what I needed to before Rio 100. 

Picture from PCTR facebook page

I was using this as a training run, with the main goal being conquering one of the most difficult parts of ultrarunning for me - eating. This was the first trail race I've not relied on Tailwind. I still think it's a great product, but it's time to play with new stuff. I definitely didn't eat enough this race, leading to dips in energy level, but anytime I really felt like I couldn't keep going I remembered that there wasn't the steady intake of calories that I'm accustomed to. I definitely didn't take in anywhere near enough, indicated by the rollercoaster energy, and how sore I still am today. While it's a tough course, I shouldn't be feeling as sore and stiff as I am. I'm very confident that better calorie intake would have helped with this.

As opposed to non-hazardous cliffs? Photo from PCTR FB page

Another reason for choosing this race as an event with a high likelihood of finishing was the weather. Marin is cool and foggy, just like running in Fort Bragg. My ideal climate. It doesn't have the shade that we have on the Mendocino Coast, but the temperature never really gets hot enough for it to be an issue. Sunscreen is definitely important, and I had planned on using my Blenders sunglasses to see if it helped the headache I usually get after running there. It was so foggy that I never needed them, and after they blew off my hat on one of the ridges I tucked them safely in my pack. It was cold even for me in some spots, and I actually changed into a warmer shirt later in the day. My Spandits boardies (FIN-tastic with pocket a-la-carte) performed flawlessly as usual. And the bra chafe that plagues me every race in some way or other? Not this time. I taped under the shoulder straps just in case, there are little plastic adjusters that sit right where the pack straps do, but I'm not sure it was necessary. I might find a little fleece cover for them to try. Good job, Victoria's Secret! Though it's going to take a while to get used to them being closer to my face than usual, not mashed against my body. Hello boobs!

From my Strava - got hills?

I was out there a little longer than I had hoped, but it was good practice to finish in the dark and try to not fall asleep. I carried my headlamp all day, it made more sense than risking getting caught out without it for the sake of a tiny weight. The sleeping wasn't too bad this time, but by the time the sun went down I could smell the barn. Had I been heading out for another loop I'm not sure that would have been the case. I also had the company of another runner, and a section of trail where the Night Sweats 15k race was coming up a technical section as I was coming down, so with that much activity it would have been hard for me to sleep walk! I struggled mentally this race. I went in completely depleted emotionally, and that certainly took its toll, including a complete breakdown that resulted in bawling my eyes out on the side of the trail not moving anywhere. Very mature way to deal with things, but it made me feel a lot better. I didn't take any pictures the whole course (hence the borrowed photos - the photographers on course haven't posted anything yet).

I learned some useful things at this race. Fueling is so crucial and I have to find a better system for eating more regularly. The M&Ms and Skittles both worked pretty well, but it would have been better to have them in a ziplock baggie for easier eating. Soup works really well at night, warming and salty. Just staring at the aid station tables wasn't particularly helpful, but when a volunteer listed items off to me things started sounding good. Sitting down felt really good for a moment, but a volunteer found out from me how long I wanted to sit for, 2/5/10 minutes, and as soon as my time was done made sure I got up. My hands didn't really puff up like they usually do, they started to a few times and I'm not sure what I did differently for them to equalize again, but they would. There was some cramping, and again I'm not sure whether the water I would chug or the endurolytes were what helped - that's an experiment for a training run. There was a point where I realised that walking hurt just as much as running, so I might as well make some time, and it actually helped me feel better. Anytime I caught myself walking for too long I would run for at least 5 minutes to break up the trudgery and make sure I didn't fall into a death march.

Photo from PCTR FB page

I have lots of things to put into practice, some good ideas for what training I want to focus on between now and November, and a 50k to practice aid stations. For now, it's focus on recovery, and learn to use my trekking poles (and get my shoulders accustomed to them) in time for Sonoma Ultra 50k, with 9500' elevation gain, in 3 weeks.

Pioneer Spirt 50

Note to self - get better at blogging, at least for events!

A week ago Saturday (*now 2 weeks ago tomorrow...), I ran most of the Pioneer Spirit 50, put on by Single Track Running. The goal of running this race was some course recon for Rio del Lago 100 miler, and to practice heat management. **Short version - it was f*cking hot and I dropped/missed the cutoff at mile 44.** 

Photo by Elicia

There was a shuttle that would get us from the parking lot at the finish line at some ungodly hour, but Mel (of Boots and Saddles fame) and I had Best Crew Ever, aka Elicia, who rolled out of bed at a slightly later ungodly hour to drive us to the start and follow us around all day. There was an option for a 4am start, but I decided that since either way I'd be running through the hottest part of the day, the extra hour in bed would be preferable.

We started near the back of the pack, and followed the train of headlights winding its way down the dusty trail for the first part of our Cool cloverleaf. We would come through the first aid stations 3 times before heading for Folsom. A few slightly tricky footing sections due to the darkness, but mostly a steady pace. Mel and I ran together for most of the day, the first time I've raced with someone. Every now and again one of us would pull ahead but we would either catch up on trail or at the next aid station. While we paced well together, we both knew that if it was time for one person to push on solo that they should do so.

The race was going well all the way up to No Hands, AS5. I had a little chafing issue that I kept forgetting to take care of, but I was anticipating the heat and dousing myself in water and cramming ice in my bra and hat as soon as it got a little warm. I noticed at Cool (AS4, mile 16) that I wasn't drinking enough, and made a mental note to take in more from my pack on trail. At this AS and the one before, I guzzled about 3 cups of water, it was more delicious than my tailwind. This should have been my first clue!

Photo by Elicia, ~14 miles

After No Hands Bridge is a big climb, and the point where I started feeling the heat. I've ridden this trail once before so thought I knew where we were headed. I made it most of the way up before finally finding somewhere to pull out of the train of runners, pretty sure the puking was about to start. A few minutes standing in the shade helped me feel better, and I pushed on with my stomach content intact. I noticed my hands swelling, and tried to sip some tailwind but it left a funky taste in my mouth. A steep (very steep, couldn't stop running if I wanted to, quad-busting steep!) singletrack downhill brought us most of the way to the river. I caught back up to Mel in time for the trail to somehow get steeper, and we both ended up using our butts to shimmy down to reduce the risk of falling. There was some language used. The steep trail brought us out on some rocks by the river, but the trail wasn't done with us yet. There was some scrambling, climbing, shimmying, jumping over gaps where the trail disappeared completely, and some precarious balancing on trail narrower than my the shoe I was trying to keep traction with. My legs had been threatening to cramp, and after half a particularly big step up my left leg, the one perched on the rock I was climbing on, completely seized. Poor Mel was stuck behind me, I was blocking the whole trail and unable to move. It was about 30 seconds before I could get going again, and was very aware of the cramping coming back. Seeing an easy route to the river was a very welcome sight, and I sat there cooling off for a few minutes. I still wasn't drinking anywhere near enough, and by now it was hot, and mostly exposed trail. Fortunately we were done with what Mel and I fondly referred to as the 'Death trail'. Prior to that section we were solidly on pace for our hoped 12-hour finish. In the space of a few miles we had slipped into 14-hour beat-the-cutoff pace.

Mel navigating part of 'death trail'

It was only about 2 miles to the next aid station but a hot climb to get there. I got a little light headed, and was trying to drink more but feeling nauseous. I asked Elicia to just top off my pack with water, I finally realised that if I added tailwind I wasn't going to drink anything. My big mistake here was not taking food, and without tailwind I was heading off without calories in an already depleted state. I did get some candied ginger which really helped settle my stomach. The next section was in the shade along the canal, and I really enjoyed it, cruising along at a good pace. I had heard a lot about the Cardiac hill - another quad buster down to the aid station. On the way I could feel something going on with my socks, so at the aid station I sat down to fix them. Unfortunately the only chairs were the folding ones with a seat a few inches off the ground. Cue cramping, which persisted every time I tried to get my foot near enough to remove my shoe, fix the problem, and put my shoe back. It didn't occur to me to ask a volunteer to help me, so took twice as long as it should have done. After San Diego, I have learned my lesson about not fixing foot niggles before they become problems.

I'm not quite sure what happened on the next section. We had plenty of time. Then we didn't. Somehow Mel and I found some scrapings at the bottom of the tank to push us into the aid station when we realised how close to time we were. We arrived with less than 5 minutes to go until mandatory Out time, volunteers flurrying around us making sure we were ready to throw us back on trail so we didn't get disqualified. A volunteer was sponging me off when I suddenly felt really light headed, saw spots, and swaying. I sat down and still felt like I was going to pass out when I heard "30 seconds remaining" from a volunteer and Mel's "Cyd, are you coming, we have to go NOW!" So of course, up I got and off we went. I didn't grab food again!!! Mel had grabbed otter pops for us, and gave me a couple of boiled sweets. The little bit of sugar got me to the next aid station, but wasn't enough to revive me. I still wasn't drinking, and was fading fast. The next aid station was only a few miles away, and again I left with no food. I've been using tailwind for more than 2 years, so never had to think about calories, I fill my pack and go. I also wasn't taking electrolytes.

I love this picture! No Hands Bridge, ~21 miles

I had heard lots of stories about the meat grinder, and while it certainly wasn't the most fun trail I've ever run, or "run", it wasn't as bad as I was expecting. It was slowly cooling off, and I was starting to drink the water from my pack more regularly. It had occurred to me a while back that I hadn't had to pee in a long time (ask my running buddies - I stop to pee annoyingly frequently). I finally had to stop, and without going into details, the colour was not appropriate and it was very uncomfortable. I slowly dropped back until Mel was out of sight. I called Elicia after a mile or so, explained I wasn't feeling good, but that Mel should be in shortly and to make sure she got out of the aid station quickly. I was feeling light headed and nauseous again, but wouldn't let myself sit down. Soon a pacer came by heading out to meet their runner, and said I was about a mile from the aid station and that I could make it. With 6 minutes to cutoff, that wasn't going to happen on fresh legs with good hydration, let alone now. It also turned out to be further than a mile. What I didn't know was that they had extended the cutoff from 5:12 to 5:30. I learned this when Elicia met me about half a mile down the trail. She had brought me some ginger ale, which I forced a little down, and finally sat.

If I had pushed myself, I probably would have made it by 5:30. Even after sitting on the trail for a few minutes, and not even trying to keep a decent hiking pace, I only arrived 5 minutes late. They may even have let me continue on at that point. My concern was how dehydrated I was, and the aching I had been feeling in my lower back was higher than it should be for muscle fatigue or hip tightness. Slogging out another 6+ miles may have been doable, but at what consequence to my recovery? My goal is to complete Rio del Lago 100 in November. While pushing through to finish would have been great mental training, it certainly wasn't the best choice for my health.

I'm not pleased that I didn't finish, but I took a lot away from this race. I am more familiar with some of the trails I'll be running on the 100, I learned that I need fueling options other than tailwind, my heat management was actually pretty good if you exclude the hydration factor. Plus, I decided that I really need a finish, so I went ahead and signed up for Headlands 50 on September 10th! So instead of a 50 mile long run, I'm getting a 44 mile and 50 mile. Headlands was my first 50 in 2014, and the cooler temperatures and generous cut off times make a finish more likely - I'm not sure mentally I can go into a 100 miler coming from 2 DNFs. It also gives me a chance to practice fueling with food instead of tailwind.

Big River Half

Wheee, redemption for Thursday's adventure. This morning was the 2nd Annual PAL Big River Half-Marathon/10k/5k. I opted for the half, as did several buddies, and other friends were there for the shorter distances. I went out too hard, but it felt ok so decided to stick with it and see what happened. The miles were clicking off, and while it wasn't as easy as when we started, the pace still felt manageable. I started setting interim goals such as make it to the 5 mile mark before I saw a speedy return runner (made it to 5.5). I checked my watch at the turnaround, saw I was on pace for a PR, which I had been hoping for. My goals for the day were to run the whole thing, maybe a water break (or pee if I had to!), and to shoot for a PR (2:11:xx - 2011). 

 

Today's successes:

• PR - finishing time of 2:04:58
• No walking - never not walked in a race, closest was the Whale Run 2015, about 5 strides there
• No walking - the longest I've continuously run before was 8 miles
• 3rd in Age Group
• Negative split - first time, even if only slight. Hit the turnaround at 1:02:54

I did have a slow 1.5 miles where I dropped to 10:30/11:00 pace and couldn't make myself go faster, but I decided even if I got slower I wouldn't give in and start walking. Once I got to the last mile I found my reserve and was able to kick it in gear, deciding that my new goal was 2:05. Happy runner here today!

Heat Training, or the day we whined a lot

We have long known that heat is certainly not my strength. Living on the coast is perfect for me. It's great running weather year round. Which is highly inconvenient for training for hot races. I tried wearing extra layers for San Diego training, but the weather was cooler than usual. Coupled with early morning runs, the extra layer was usually welcomed. With a couple of hot events coming up (glow bar marking for Tevis, and Pioneer Spirit 50 miler), I jumped on the opportunity to go visit a friend, check out the trails, and get some heat training in. The most significant of this was a long run with a fellow ultra runner/endurance rider/blogger who has the same events on her schedule. We elected to run the section from Foresthill to Driver's Flat, about 20 miles point to point, staging vehicles at each end. I planned for a couple of tests on this run. 

1. White long sleeved cotton shirt. I got this idea from Pam Smith, 2014 WS100 winner. Cotton stays wet, helping cool you, as opposed to the quick drying wicking technical fabric that most of us opt for. On a record heat year, this was something she contributed a lot to her success. In a closet clear out I found one and after a few test runs to be sure it wouldn't chafe (bane of my existence) I wanted to give it a shot in the heat. It was fantastic, as long as it stayed wet. Laying in creeks or stripping off the shirt to soak it and use it as a washcloth to cool the rest of my body was effective and felt delightful. There were a couple of sections that it had time to dry out on, and it got a little warm then, but not much more so than I would have been otherwise and at least my skin was covered so burning was less of a concern. Success!

2. Adding stack to shoes. I'm still loving the Carsons, but they don't come with much stack height. I appreciate the extra cush on the long distances, so tried to experiment. I added an Altra stone guard underneath the sock liner, and took the sock liner from my 2nd pair and added it on top. This gave a little more rigidity to the shoe, and an additional 5mm of soft lining. It was a little better, but not yet ideal. I also have some sock issues to work on, so this is a combination problem.

3. Chia bars. I found some bite size chia based energy bars that I wanted to experiment with. I put about 4 scoops (400 calories) of Tailwind in my 2l pack, and took 3 of the bars. I only tried 1 bite of the Acai flavor bar, had to spit it out and throw the rest away. I had been experiencing dry mouth due to my water dilemma, and the bar was drier and more crumbly than I anticipated, immediately sucking any remaining moisture out of my mouth to the point of almost painful. Will experiment on a more hydrated day. Pleased that 400 calories seemed to do pretty well at least!

A few miles into the run I declared it to be 100 degrees and was informed it was in fact only high 80s. (Only - I'm from England. They closed offices when it was 86 there!) An hour or so on I was sure it had to be at least 130, and was relieved to hear it was 98ish, and that Mel, who does well in heat, was also warm. I've noticed running here that you go through little pockets of warmer or cooler air. The same thing happened yesterday, except the warm pockets felt like opening an oven door. Yuck! I was trying to find the right balance between conserving water and not getting too dehydrated. After about 10 miles we were reduced to speed hiking and I was very conscious of not feeling my best. I started paying attention to my decision making, and checking in with myself regularly. I can't afford a SAR bill! Mel ran out of water a few miles before I did, and both of us were out long before was ideal. No matter how much I drank I also couldn't fix the dry mouth sensation, which was at best unpleasant. I'm going to pick up some dry mouth dental spray to see if that would help next time.

We spent several miles traveling alongside the American River, taunting us with it's coolness and wetness.We briefly contemplated swimming back, but the rapids would have been a problem. There were a few rafts that we were roughly keeping pace with, and I really wanted to just hang on to the back of them and be towed along. The rafters kept jumping into the river, something I began fantasizing about. I was so happy when we got to Franciscos, where it was just 2 more miles to the truck. 2 miles of exposed, hot, steep uphill! As we were leaving Franciscos there was a mileage sign confirming 2.3 miles. After a short stretch of single track, I turned and saw a sign that actually made me shriek out a little. 3.2 miles!!! Nooooo! Thankfully there was soon a trail that led to the river, something we had been looking for for a while. We both briefly considered how foolish it was, determined that people didn't die from giardia, and slurped up deliciously cold, refreshing river water. It was amazing. We spend a little while here cooling, just sitting in the water, and taking a few more sips. It may not have been our best decision making, but it was so good! 

Unfortunately the recovery from the river didn't last too long, and the road to Driver's Flat took its toll quickly. A State Park truck passed us heading down the hill, and a couple of the rafting companies came by. We were taking a break in the shade when the SP truck was coming back towards us in our direction of travel. We flagged him down, and he graciously gave us a ride back up the hill to the staging area. Apparently we looked as bad as we felt. Even though we were hot and dehydrated, we never fell into a death march. We had given up on running a long way back, but we were always moving with purpose. We got 5:30 hours trail time, and temperature reports of hitting 104 degrees. While I didn't do fantastic with the heat, I recovered much faster than I have done previously. As soon as we got back to Foresthill, we went to agas station for cold ginger ale and a Snickers ice cream bar. Totally hit the spot! I'll be back in the area next week to get a couple of rides and runs in, plus Tevis on Saturday - a long run in heat, with a purpose, followed by volunteering all night. Excellent 100 miler training!

San Diego 100

In short - I did not finish the San Diego 100. It's not the end of the world. I'm pleased with the training I did, a little sad I didn't finish, and disappointed that I missed my WS100 qualifier.

The drive down was uneventful but long and hot and straight and boring. We spent the first night near a relative of J's in case she had time to visit. Our Air B'n'B host was very sweet, as were her three girls. We were obviously trustworthy, since the next morning she took one to school, and went to work, leaving the other two alone with us, and instructions to lock the door when we leave. Very strange... She loaned me her blender to make my pre-race smoothies. One of her daughter's was watching me, and her only comment was "Whoa... Bananas for days." She had a point - 18 bananas and a bag of frozen strawberries.

Strawberry/banana left and center, banana right

We met up with my crew, my bestie E and her husband B. Lunch was at Stone Brewing, followed by a brewery tour. You know, for heat acclimation. They stayed an extra night in San Diego and Jason and I headed out to Lake Cuyamaca for check in and camp set up. The briefing was thorough but not overkill. After collecting my entry swag (drawstring bag, tech shirt, injinji socks, and a bottle) I got my photo taken for UltraLive.

See how pink already? HOT!

I finished all my smoothies, and settled in around 9:30 (I think?). I actually slept really well, particularly considering it was pre-race, in a tent, and J was snoring away. We headed to the start line around 4:45 so I could collect my number in plenty of time for the 6:00 start.

The conga line was slow slow heading out, which was bothering some runners, occasionally me too. It was hot (for me) by 7am, and we were already heading up our first big climb. There was some chatter here and there among people I would be leapfrogging with all day. I already had that thick-headed feeling that is not a good sign for me, so focused on trying to keep my heart rate down and fluid intake. There was a fun descent to the first aid station, which was a hive of activity. I was able to get in and out quickly, and was so grateful to the sponsor (Running Skirts) for providing cooling buffs. Ice cold water shouldn't feel so good on my neck at 8am! I was a little ahead of pace so made a note to keep an eye on my watch and keep something in the tank for later.

The course was rolling, and the day just kept getting hotter. By about 11:00 I was struggling to keep cool. It was a huge relief to come into the first crew aid station, even though E and B hadn't made it there yet. J was waiting for me with giant ice pops! Best thing I've ever taken out on trail. I refilled my bottles, refreshed my buff, stuffed ice anywhere I could, and set off to hit the Pacific Crest Trail.Spectacular views, hot, exposed, and rolling in a generally upwards direction. I had to slow way down to manage the heat, even stopping a couple of times. I tried to keep hydrated, but wasn't succeeding too well. This section saw several runners death marching, and a few puking. One guy was passed out on a rock - he said he sat down because he felt dizzy, and wasn't sure how long ago that was. Not good! There were a few times I kicked rocks and nearly went down a few times. At one point I did fall, and managed to roll off the side of the trail. Fortunately there was enough brush to stop me going far, as opposed to some of the sheer drops I saw elsewhere. I gave myself some nice bruises in the process. I also think it was somewhere along here that I broke my toe, but I didn't realise it was broken until our hike on Sunday (because everyone climbs a mountain 2 days after DNFing a 100 miler, right?)

It was a huge relief to arrive at the aid station and try to cool off. According to E I looked better than many of the runners she had seen come through but I wasn't feeling it. I didn't realise how dehydrated I was, my feet were hurting which I put down to them swelling in the heat. I changed into bigger shoes but the damage was done. I let E know that I was in survival mode and just trying to keep moving. I did mention that I could probably go faster if someone could turn the sun off for me, which was agreed by those nearby. The next section is a bit blurry, I was hot, dehydrated, nauseous but not puking, and just not having fun. I kept telling myself that night time would be better, and one foot in front of the other would get me there.

Sometimes I was with other runners, mostly I was alone. There were more runners napping on the side of the trail along here too, maybe 3? I really wished I could join them, and it was still only the afternoon. I didn't realise the next aid wasn't a crew station and was a little sad that I had been anticipating seeing them. The next section had some slightly technical sections (probably not very technical if you're not 5'2 and already tired). Then came the big hill everyone had been talking about. The volunteers warned it would be long and hot, so I armed myself with ice anywhere and everywhere and full bottles and took off. I passed THREE runners heading BACK to the aid station to drop out and a fourth weighing his options that I couldn't persuade to hike with me. I actually passed several people on the climb, which went on for what might have been forever, and had a few pretty steep sections. I was very pleased to find I actually had some good climbing strength left but could feel that my feet weren't exactly thrilled with me. I finally rolled in to Penny Pines 1, and was really happy to see E walking down the trail towards me. I took a seat for a couple of minutes while my pack was filled and I was brought various snack offerings. E was promptly asked to leave and we were informed that if the RD came by while she was there I could be disqualified. Yikes! They promised we could have crew at the next aid though, so off I went.

My planning went askew here, since I was so far off schedule, I hadn't planted a headlamp anywhere. Fortunately I had my phone with me and was able to use the dim light on it which helped, and my new runner friend J offered to stick with me until the aid station. We had been running about the same pace and both were grateful for some conversation. My feet were really getting painful and I knew a blister was forming. I've never had to deal with blisters running, so this was new for me. As soon as we reached the aid station I set to work trying to remedy what was the biggest yet hardest to see blister ever. E and B were both shining light on it and a volunteer was helping while I tried to drain it. 12 holes in my foot later and it was clear this blister was in for the long haul. It didn't occur to me that the sore area on the heel of the other foot was a blister, so I didn't take that shoe off. They hadn't brought my crew bags up so my clean shirt, my fully charged GPS, and neither of my lights were available but I got a loaner headlight, not as comfy or bright as mine but better than my phone. I should have asked them to go get my stuff but I was trying not to be the cranky runner. I was pushed back out onto the trail with a handful of M&Ms and a promise that my foot would just go numb soon. Ha! Blisters pictures taken the next day are available upon request ;) 3 weeks later and the one I tried to fix is still trying to heal. The spot on my heel turned out to be quite the monster too. I'll save you the gory details...

The next few miles were the most difficult. Just like at Zion 100, my brain shut down and I went to sleep. I jolted awake after a couple of strides but a few times I walked off trail. I have GOT to figure this out before November! I remembered a trick that I'd heard about if you take a nap during a race, to lay with your head facing the direction you need to travel, so if you're disoriented when you wake up you don't start going backwards. Laying down to sleep really felt like a good plan so I kept my feet moving! Even though my feet were on fire and I couldn't stay awake, my legs really felt pretty good. Just every time I tried to run the searing pain in my feet shut me down. I was also having trouble regulating body temperature; I would go from freezing with teeth chattering, to sweating like mad. Turns out, it wasn't me, it was really weird little pockets along the trail. Eventually a runner and her pacer caught up to me, and I moved out with them hiking and chatting together. I felt a lot more awake having company, and the brighter combination of 3 lights seemed to help. After a couple of miles with them, a runner came flying down the trail towards us, and paused to let us know that we needn't push the pace because the aid station was closed so take it easy. I was both disheartened and relieved. Soon after, S appeared to "run" me in. He was surprised at my good spirit and how well I was moving until I explained the extra pounding of  running was too much for my poorly feet.

Hiking with my crew 2 days later

At the aid station, I heard that the temperature on trail had been recorded at 108, possibly hotter in some places. There's no way I could prepare for that living and training on the coast. I'm not sure what happened with my feet, it was a new scenario. I have a couple of ideas to try, and think maybe dehyhdration was part of it. Muscle wise I recovered very quickly, and my toe is just about healed - it now only hurts when I poke it. It shows just how fickle ultras are. I had trained my hardest and smartest, worked hard at improving my nutrition, set huge PRs at both the 50k and 50m distances, and it just wasn't my day. There's not much I can do about heat, except be in it as much as possible (I'm currently at E's place near Grass Valley to get some hot runs and rides in).

Next races: Big River half in July, Pioneer Spirit 50m in August, and Rio del Lago 100 in November.

Lake Sonoma 50

Flat Cyd ready to go!

Wheeeeeeeee! Finally a Lake Sonoma event finish. After crashing and burning attempting this race a few years ago, and then my silly pony falling off the trailer in his over-excitement and slicing his leg, I was wondering if this was a cursed location for me. Third time lucky though. I didn't take many pictures this time, my head wasn't really in the game, and I had to concentrate more than usual.

My big dilemma was what to do with my rain jacket - start with it, carry it all day, put it in a drop bag? As soon as I walked out to the truck I knew it was too warm to wear it, so opted for the Warm Springs drop bag, that we pass at miles 11.5 and 38. I didn't need it all day, so I'm glad to have not lugged it up all those hills. I arrived with plenty of time, most of which was taken up in the potty line. The first 2.4 miles are on road with no ducking access, so no chances taken by anybody. I had just enough time to stash my jacket under a tent ready for the finish, and join the back of the pack as we set off for a really long day.

It was really hard to watch the pack leaving on the road section, but I couldn't find my stride, there was a decent hill, and my lungs were taking a while to warm up. They're not quite recovered from the respiratory virus I finally had to admit to myself I had, part of the reason for my ridiculous taper of 1 run and 1 hike in 2 weeks. I also had a full belly from a reasonable breakfast, ~600 calories. I knew being forced to go slow early would pay off in the later miles. 

Once we hit the single track it was an easy cruise to the first aid station, a water only stop, ~4.3 miles. Nothing needed here except to thank the volunteers and start the long section to Warm Springs. I still hadn't quite settled in and the warm muggy weather was bothering me. The scenery was spectacular though, so I chose to focus on that. It was way too early in the day to be having thoughts of missing cut offs or dropping by choice. There was some limited, and not all cheerful, conversation on course, so I pushed to find a hole by myself. Arriving at the aid station cheered me up pretty quickly, there were volunteers and crews cheering for everyone and being very helpful. I found my drop bag and grabbed 3 baggies of Tailwind, 2 to refill my bottles now, and 1 to carry as a spare - my next drop bag wasn't for 14 more miles. I saw P here, who I had the pleasure of running a few miles with at MUC50k (and another race that neither of us remember). The section between here and Madrone Point aid is my favourite on the course. Spectacular views and single track makes Cyd a happy runner. There was a moment that I got a little frustrated trying to get by a group of 4 friends running together who weren't holding even a little bit consistent pace but refused to let me by. I got past 3 of them, and the leader of their pack, a stocky guy, was bombing away any time I tried to pass then literally stopping in front of me. I quickly got bored of this game and squeezed through the first gap I saw where he actually knocked into me. Yup, it's important to fight for that mid-pack spot a third of the way into the race. No acknowledgement of what you did? Screw you. I ran faster than I should have to get away from them and took a moment to remind myself that this was a very rare case in trail running and wasn't going to let it bother me too much. 

Spectacular scenery!

I caught up to the next little pack and we had a nice train going for a few miles. Every now and again the engine fell to the back, and before too long I was second in the line, and the two of us started pulling away from the group. I wasn't delighted with my pace still, until we came to Wulfow Springs aid, another water only stop. Here I realised that my Suunto wasn't keeping up on mileage and that I wasn't going as slow as I had thought. From then on I just concentrated on elapsed time, but of course I couldn't remember what my splits should be for my goals until the half way point. I knew speeding up was a bad idea, so figured I'd keep the effort level I was at until then and see what I needed to change for the second half. At 3h45 the race leader breezed by on his return journey. It was fun watching the elite runners come by, and love that so many of them spared a breath to acknowledge other runners on course. One of the reasons I love this sport! It was just a couple miles from Wulfow to Madrone Point aid and the first significant climb of the day (as per the website lol). I refilled one of my bottles, and set into the climb, fully prepared for the suckfest. Except it wasn't that bad. Not the most fun, for sure, but not as bad as I remembered. Added bonus that there were volunteers, spectators, and crew hiking up and down cheering runners as we went by, and a very encouraging crowd at the top. Next up, a long descent that I chose to forget had another big climb at the bottom and that I had to come back up it. 

The second 'significant' climb was as hard as I remembered, and while I didn't pass anybody on this one, I did manage to hold my own and pull away from those behind me. At the top it was just one mile to the turnaround along another fun single track. I got into No Name Flat aid station just 15 minutes behind schedule for my A-Goal of 12 hours. There was music playing, people cheering, volunteers rushing to help me. Someone found and handed me my drop bag, while another grabbed my bottles and the tailwind bags to fill for me so I could reapply vaseline. The banana chunks looked good so I scoffed one while my bottles were replaced in my pack for me - great service here!! Another banana chunk was put in my hand for the road and I was back on trail in less than 4 minutes!

Having just come up 2 big hills and down 1, this was obviously a mostly downhill section. I fell into stride with a couple of runners before we went down the hill. I don't remember how the subject came up, but we joked about how running was so bad for our knees, which clearly offended someone near us who started lecturing on how running really is bad for your knees. Seriously? Time to go fly down a hill and have some fun instead. I had a bit of a low point at the bottom and took some extra walking time. Even though it was seemingly flat, I knew it was a slight incline with a steeper hill to come so I felt okay with taking some extra time for myself. Before I knew it we were descending into Madrone Return aid, and I had the pleasure of chatting with Gunhild Swanson of 2015 Western States fame, who gave me some great advice on training and racing - thank you! For some reason Oreos looked delicious, so I figured it was worth a try and grabbed a couple, along with the tastiest donut hole, apparently crumb flavoured? I was really sensitive to peanut butter today, just the smell of it from runners I passed who'd opted for PBJ was enough to make me nauseous, and the sight of more sandwiches being made got me out of the aid station like a shot. 

Not sure if I should laugh or cry...

Back to my favourite section, and I felt much better than I had earlier in the day. I started setting my sights on runners ahead of me and slowly catching up and passing. I set myself hill goals, run up to that tree, don't walk until the rock, to keep me running hills. I started trying to figure out how much catching up I might have to do to still make 12 hours. There's a local 12.5 miles loop with lots of climbing that I can usually do in ~2h45. It was 12 miles from Warm Springs to the finish, with lots of climbing, but 38 miles of hills already on my legs. I got in to the aid station just after 9 hours. I got my tailwind from my drop bag and snagged some oreos and soda while my bottles were refilled (have I mentioned how great the volunteers were all day?!) I also got to see J from the training run here. We were both having a great time and talking to someone cheerful for a minute really gave me a boost - thanks J! I was very conscious of my goal though, and scooted out before I could get too comfortable. 

This section wasn't as bad as I was anticipating. It was going to be 7.4 miles to the next (and final) aid station, with many more hills. It was getting harder to chase down people ahead of me, but I was still managing to pass. There was a section where I couldn't stop clock watching and the miles just weren't going by as fast it felt they should relative to my effort level. I started focusing more on my surroundings instead, which helped. Finally the sign for the aid station was in sight. I took a couple swigs of soda and some oreos, made sure they tracked my number, and headed back for the trail. I knew I was going to be cutting it incredibly tight to make 12 hours with how fatigued I was and how much up, and was a little demoralised when I vocalised this and someone agreed with me. Nooo! I told my brain to shut it out and to give it a good try at least. I kept pushing until we were going up yet another never ending hill and I realised that we had three miles to go and I was definitely not getting in under 12 hours. For some reason it suddenly really mattered to me, and I felt really defeated. The wheels fell off and I found myself a nice tree stump to lean against. I realised that I could feel my pulse in my eyeballs and my ultraddlement (the brain addling that occurs in an ultra) was not allowing me to remember how to fix it. Thank you to the red jacketed runner who came by, said something that I don't remember, and got me moving again. I checked my watch and saw that I still had time to beat my PR even if I wasn't going to get my 12 hour goal. After that no matter how much I wanted to I wouldn't let myself stop completely. Walking up, shuffling the flats and downs. Keep moving forward. Soon I heard runners behind me, and decided that I was NOT going to be passed in the last 2 miles. Whenever I heard voices I forced myself to run even a few strides. 1.5 miles from the finish I took a completely unposed picture, and my suck-it-up happy face picture. Quite the difference! Finally I was startled by a lady waiting just off trail, who said I was nearly there, half a mile to go. I started getting a little emotional, and pushed on. A few minutes later I was again told it was a half mile. This was going to be the longest half mile ever! This person said I could start celebrating, which pretty much made me start sobbing (I was told that was cool too...) It also occurred to me that these people don't know how klutzy I am, and there was still every chance I could fall over, smack my head on a rock, and still DNF. I started watching the ground like a hawk, as emotional Cyd thought this was a very real possibility. I had to give myself a stern talking to when I realised that the heaving sobs were not helping me breathe, and WE WERE STILL GOING UPHILL DAMMIT! I could finally see the finish line, and a glance behind me showed someone was right there. I was not going to be passed within sight of the line. It was such a great feeling to run down the finishing chute, lined with spectators shouting and applauding and high fiving . One of the organisers and some volunteers were waiting there and hugs were distributed, directions to the finish line gear, drinks, and food were given, a chair found for me with strict instructions to not sit down yet (just cruel!). 

Don't believe everything you see!

Two days later and my quads are still on fire, and I'm still on a high. Technically I knew either a PR or a DNF were my options, since the cut off was 14 hours, and my official 50 mile time was 15:00:04 (Headlands 50, '14). Unofficially my PR was 12:25 (50 mile split at Ordnance 100k, '15). I completed Lake Sonoma in 12:15:40. I was really happy that I had managed to stay on track in the 2nd half, 15 minutes behind schedule at the turnaround, 15 minutes behind at the finish line. I estimate I took in about 2600 calories during the race: ~8 bottles of tailwind [24oz/250cals], 2 banana chunks, 8 oreos, ~1 can soda, absolutely no peanut butter!  I couldn't have asked for better weather, it cooled just enough once the rain started, and mostly the rain was a refreshing drizzle all day. I love theat my Suunto records the amount of time we spend going up and down. My hill stats for Lake Sonoma? 10946' elevation. 7:14:56 of ascent, 4:53:00 of descent. And flat time? 0:07:54! That's why they call this run 'Relentless'. 

50k Training Run

To round out my hat-trick of training runs, I planned my longest self-supported run. I have signed up for a 50k as a training run a few times, but my longest training run self supported has been 24 miles. I recruited some friends who all needed long runs that day in order to have company all the way. My chosen course? The Mendocino Coast 50k route! It's a beautiful course. Did I take pictures? Nope. Did I re-order tailwind in time? Nope. (Thank you T of former-training-buddy fame for saving me here.) Did I remember to eat appropriately the day before? Nope. Did I eat at all? Yes, six bananas blended with water. (Surprisingly satisfying, easy on my stomach, and helped me play fuel catch-up.) I was also convincing myself that my allergies were really bad, and that is why I had breathing/throat issues. I have since come to terms with the fact that I had some respiratory sickness, that finally made me take some time off. Being able to get through this run first was really good for my confidence though.

Love long runs with friends (Picture from D.L.)

Early start, picking S up at 5.15 (we had dropped his car at the point he would be finishing at the night before). The 2 of us ran the Headlands section around Mendocino, and met up with C and D at Russian Gulch. Through the campground, up North trail, and off to the waterfall, where B was waiting. The next section had a fun downhill, and a four mile section of mostly uphill. At the half way point, B and S peeled off, but H and M jumped in to run to the finish. They are both much faster than I am, but patiently toodled along with me. The wheels fell off a little in the last five miles, when I started experiencing a sharp pain in my shin. At first I put it down to having jabbed my shin into a fallen tree branch. I couldn't see any bruising though, and it had been a couple of hours. When the pain increased the further we ran, I opted to walk for a while, even though it was pretty flat terrain. Stress fracture was rolling around in the back of my head. Walking hurt it less. It did feel more like a soft tissue problem, and I went through a few range of motion tests to try and reassure myself. We ran some and walked some, and I finished my longest ever training run. If I had more time on Friday, I would have planted 2 aid stations instead of just 1. I was able to get by on what I had, but more would have been nice. I again found myself conserving in order to have enough to finish on.

Lake Sonoma Training Run

Last Saturday (now a few weeks ago...), the organisers of the Lake Sonoma 50 planned a training run on the course. It was a free event, open to all runners, not just those registered for the race. We were meeting at a parking lot near the turn around point, and shuttling to the start line in however many cars we needed. There was one aid station about half way through, and the turns were marked, but no confidence ribbons. A while back the RD had sent out an email telling us where they had stashed 10 gallons of water for runners training on the course, and which of the horse troughs had potable water. They also laid out a rope for the deepest creek crossing. It was determined a week before the training run that it would be safer to do an out and back from the turnaround point on the race. Since this is the section of course I wanted to run that was ideal for me, I always start my training runs from the Start/Finish area, so am familiar with that section.

Misty start, already climbing

Not staying there the night before meant getting up a stupid o'clock and leaving shortly after. I didn't eat sufficient breakfast at home or in the truck, which didn't help later in the day. After a quick briefing from the RD about important things to note for the day, we were off. It was a like a race start with everybody tearing away, and it was so hard to pace myself and watch everyone leave. A little up, a little down, and it was lake crossing time. We had been forewarned that a couple of days ago, the RD had to swim this section for about ten yards. They gave directions for a way around by going back up the hill, um no thanks.

Uh, there's some lake in my trail..

It turned out to be not that deep, as long as you didn't wander into the lake bit of the lake - a few runners did get very wet trying to take a short cut. On the way back it was very refreshing, I was hat-dunking at any water stop. Keeping cool is going to be a big part of my race day.

Wading across

The Orange Mud pack was great, although not quite enough for the lack of aid stations. I really could have a used a third bottle on the way back. It was comfortable and didn't chafe even though I was in a t-shirt all day.

At least we'll have amazing scenery to enjoy

Cloud cover would be welcome on race day

There were some fun people on course to share miles with, so I had company for more than half the run. It was fun to hear lots of excited chatter about S's Mendocino Coast 50k.

It was very reassuring to feel strong on this run a week after a hard effort at Marin Ultra Challenge 50k. I was certainly tired at the end and ready stop, but on tired legs and under-fueled it was great training - 26 miles and about 5000'. I'm excited for the race this weekend, but due to various things, I've only run once in the last ten days. Guess I'm going with well-rested?

Marin Ultra Challenge - Race Report!

Please excuse the radio silence. I promise I'm not dead, I'm running! Running like a crazy person. Although right now I'm stuck on my couch trying to figure out how to fix my lungs. Which means I'm sitting down long enough and awake enough to actually hammer out a couple of catch up posts. Yippee!

Beer-consuming Cyd should not be allowed on UltraSignup. Beer-consuming Cyd's finger just happens to slip a few times and before she knows it, the 50k entry is paid for. Oopsies. Well I did need a long training run, and I love running in the Marin Headlands. The next day I decide to further look into the race I signed up for on a whim. 7100' of climbing? Eep, time to get my hill legs ready. I read a few race reports and decided this was going to be really tough, but a lot of fun, and it was just a training run so I had nothing to prove. I planned a short taper, but that got skewed when my poorly friend had to spend a couple of days in the hospital. Training is important, but so is cheering up and driving for your sickly buddy (she's doing great now!). So more of a taper than I hoped. Oh well, let's go run a really hard 50k.

The week before there was plenty of stormy weather - yay rain! Everything is so green and beautiful. Except it doesn't make for great race conditions. A couple of days before the race we got an email from the RD that the Start/Finish line was moving to Rodeo Beach since Fort Baker was underwater. An extra loop was added to make up for lost distance. Mileage was then 31.5, with a total elevation gain of 6900'. I left town early on Friday to give myself plenty of time to drive down. I opted to save some money by sleeping in the back of my truck at Rodeo Beach, and knew there were several other runners doing the same. It rained occasionally during the night, but wasn't too cold. The wind was a different story, the whole truck was wobbling around and woke me up a few times. It was still one of the better night's sleep I've had before a race. Also, it was great having my alarm go off at the same time as most runners were arriving. I heard lots of people talking about getting up at 3.30, some even earlier. All I had to do was change into running clothes and roll out the truck. Definitely the way to do this. 

Stormy skies on an early climb

Check in was cold and windy but there was that great pre-race buzz from runners anxious to hit the trail. They kept the pre-race briefing short, and soon we were on the way. I started near the back, and still had a few people passing me in the first mile while we all found our stride. We soon hit our first climb of the day and I settled into a good hiking rhythm. It wasn't long before I was passing people, and there was plenty of amazing views and excited chatter about the trail ahead. I got a little carried away coming down the first descent, and rolled into the aid station more than a little ahead of schedule. Whoops, bad Cyd. Training run, training run, training run... A dixie cup of coke and back off up Coastal Trail for the second time.

I was surprised to find myself power hiking by people on the climb. I got to spend a few minutes chatting with J of Pacific Coast Trail Running fame, who is heading back to Zion 100 next month - good luck! I then caught up to P, who I've run with at a race or two in the past and will be seeing at LS50 in a few weeks. Nice chatting with you, P! 

The climb out of Tennesee Valley towards Muir Beach was longer and steeper than I remembered, but I definitely felt stronger heading up than I have done on previous attempts. Once you hit the top, the trail is rolling for a while before dropping you down to the beach and the aid station. There are a couple of technical-ish sections, especially in the wet. There were a lot of people walking through here, so I took the kinda-trail to the side and passed at least 20 people here. It was a gamble - I was making up time, but if I fell it was going to be very very bad! I did my best to channel my inner gazelle (ha! right...) and managed to keep myself upright all the way through. 3rd Aid Station, 3rd dixie cup of coke. I wasted a couple of minutes in the bathroom line, but a wonderful volunteer came and got my bottles from me and refilled my Tailwind supply so I was on my way quickly. Not long from here was where the 50m and 50k runners separated. This whole loop was new to me, and I loved it! The climb gradually got steeper, and a few of us were close enough to egg each other on some as we wound up the switchbacks. It was around here that I started running some with H, who would be my on-off running buddy for a good chunk of the 2nd half. Thanks for the miles, it was fun running with you! See you at TNF50 in December.

Every now and again the rain dumped on us, sometimes the really cold spiky rain that hurts when it hits your bare skin. My jacket did a great job of keeping me warm and dry, and only a couple of times was I too warm or a little chilly, to be expected when you're not adjusting layers as you go. I still haven't found a running jacket that I completely love though. It was on this climb that we ran into J from Let's Wander Photography, who always gets great shots. Was I delighted at seeing a photographer 18 miles in and when I'm going uphill? Not really, but I am grateful that they braved the elements to come out for us, I love my race pictures. Thanks J!

Photo Credit: Jesse Ellis

Being on this side of the ridge kept us sheltered from the worst of the wind for a while, which was a nice break. The scenery is just amazing, and even on such a grey day the views were fantastic! This was the longest section between aid, just over 7 miles. Once back at Muir Beach we realised that somehow we only had 10 miles to go. How did that happen? Miles were flying by, I was feeling great, and having so much fun. It was nice that only cheerful people seemed to be on the course this day, maybe the storm kept the Debbie Downers at home? Thank you fellow runners for helping us all have an awesome day. I got two dixie cups of coke this time while a volunteer topped off my bottles for me. The next section was new to me too, another big climb (surprise surprise). I took this one a little slower. About two-thirds of the way up I went to take a step with my left leg and an adductor muscle completely seized on me. It was one of the most painful cramps I've experienced, and found myself thumping that leg to try and get it out of it's cycle. For the next ten minutes it would claw at me if I flexed either my left hip or left knee, which certainly affected progress. Have you ever tried to climb a mountain with a straight leg? I don't recommend it. I chugged tailwind as much as I could without making myself nauseous, and slowly kept moving, trying to stretch it out as I went. It was a short but intense section for me. For a few days after the race I had some pain in my right knee, so I'm wondering if I had subconsciously been compensating for something that I didn't notice in my through my race-brain and the additional fatigue along with dehydration was what set it off? Who knows, but it hasn't happened since and the knee was totally recovered in 4 days.

Not even faking it! 4 miles to go

Once we crossed the ridge and began descending back to Tennessee Valley the wind was back. It was strong enough that H was knocked off her feet. One of the problems many of us found was not just staying upright (or as close as we could) against the wind while making time, but as soon as it let up for a second, there was no need to brace against it, so it was hard to not topple over with no resistance. It was annoying and hilarious at the same time! There are so many reasons you have to be able to laugh at yourself in ultra running.

This was also the only section I had a little stomach upset. I'm not sure if it was the 2nd cup of coke at Muir Beach, or just a funny moment. I never felt pukey and didn't need to walk, but I did opt for a cup of ginger ale instead of coke at Tennessee Valley. In a new twist for me, the banana chunks looked delicious, so I went for it. The volunteer with the big jar of peanut butter got a good laugh at my response of "Oh gross, definitely not. Oh but thank you" when she offered out a big scoop of PB to slather on my banana. Just the mention of it turned my stomach. But the bite of food and ginger ale did the trick and I was steadily climbing up the last big hill of the day. It was such a great feeling getting to the top and still having gas in the tank. I knew the trail home and there were no challenges left! This was the only section I was really by myself, but there were a few brave hikers on the trail who all cheered as I ran by. At one point I was running right into the wind, and struggling to hit 12:00/mile going downhill. This was driving me crazy, and a little discouraging. But with two miles to go I wasn't about to start complaining. One foot in front of the other, just keep going. I cheered for the winning 50 mile racer as he cruised effortlessly by me a mile or so from the finish. The last little section is along the road, where faster runners were all congratulating those of us still on course as they headed back to their cars which was great for getting a last kick to the finish line.

What should you not be doing on a 50k race-come-training-run if you run smart? Setting a PR is not what you should be doing. But I'm still delighted with my official time of 6:45:06, besting my previous trail 50k PR by 8 minutes, on a much tougher course. And I didn't completely trash myself in the process. I managed to squeeze in a comfortable 7-miler between clients the next day. Maybe I'm getting a bit good at this running thing :)

With new trail buddies at the finish line, thanks for the miles!