Bad day at the races, So what? - I still had fun

UROC 100k Race Report

Been seriously neglecting my blogging duties.  Sorry, I'd say I didn't have time, but I did.  I guess I was just lacking something to write about.  

But now I have a story to share.  Its called, I got ROC'd at UROC/remembering how to have fun at races.  

I had a really good summer of training and racing.  There is no way I could complain about the two top ten finishes at the Leadville series of races.  But then I had to go back to Michigan, finish my dissertation, move out of my apartment, defend my dissertation, move to Colorado, start a new job, and hopefully train as much as possible.  

I did all those things, but some of them I did a better job at than others.  Actually I trained really well through late August and into mid September.  However, after starting a new job doing research at the University of Colorado, I was noticing that my system just felt stressed.  OK, I need to rest, I'll start my taper for UROC.

UROC is the first of the series of races I signed up for to keep myself out of trouble this fall.  Its the unofficial "World Championships" of ultrarunning, but actually it was the championship race for Skyrunning.  This meant that it drew an incredible field of the best runners in the world, and I was excited to see what I could do relative the what is generally considered some of the fittest endurance athletes in the world. 

In fact, I was so excited that I was vibrating the entire day before the race, it'd been a while since I was so excited mentally to go out there and run run run.  Maybe it was because I'd been spending a lot of time cooped up in the lab. 

Sammy and I - ready to party

It snowed a lot up high the night before the race, and by up high I mean above 11,000 feet.  That's really high up if you're not from Colorado.  Like two miles up.  

Anyways, after figuring out what I thought was appropriate clothing, I found myself giving Sammy a high-five and making my way towards the starting line for the start of what could only be something EPIC.  The gun sounds and we're off.  A stampede along the road until we hit the ski slopes in Breckenridge.  As soon as we hit the climb I knew something was wrong.  I felt really good on the flat, then going up had NOTHING in my legs.  Scary Nothing.  Like a mile into a 60+ mile race scary.  Whatever, I've run enough of these things to know that sometimes you just gotta be patient and stick it out and things will turn around.  

On the climb up I kept the elites in sight and watched Sage, Dakota, Killian, Rob Krar, and Emelie Forseburger-doodle go flying down the singletrack towards Frisco.  Yay, my turn to go down.  Then people started passing me.  Thats weird, not a lot of folks can usually pass me going downhill, quads kinda feel achy.  Uh oh, flashes of previous poor races came rolling back into my mind.  I pull myself together, keep running and find that as we get closer to Frisco (and lose altitude) I start to reel back in the people who passed me earlier.

Frisco Aid Station.  Its cold, but not terrible.  Ryan informs me that I am currently 5th woman.  I get a good laugh out of his joke, slurp down a half frozen gel, and run back out of town.  No clue what is ahead.

I'm starting to realize this might not be "my day."  I've been blessed to have a lot of good races; perhaps because of my grad student-ness, I was typically well rested/unstressed before races.  Shiiiit.

Going up.  up.  up.  I talk to some folks, and then they run away from me.  Glarg, competitive spirit does not like it.  I try to go harder.  I feel sick.  Almost puke.  Slow down.  Long race, not even 20 miles in right now.  You'll catch them later.  

Holy crap, all of a sudden we're above tree line and there is...  ~10 inches of snow on the ground. Slip.  Slide.  No motivation to run hard.  Francesca Canepa trucks on by me.  She looks super strong.  Euro power.   Wait, I'm in a good mood?  Look around.  Crazy wild terrain, where in the world am I?

12,500 feet up running along a ridge line looking out over the 10 mile range at some jagged peaks covered in fresh snow on a blue bird day.  Oh.  Ok, ok ok, this is still fricking awesome.  Descending now, into the Copper Mountain ski area.  Really muddy with all the snow melt below tree line.  No problem for me.  I like mud.

Hmmm, GPS says 28 miles and I'm not at the 26.5 mile aid station yet.  Consistent theme throughout the day.  See Ryan, Liz, Tiffany, and Justin when I finally get to the aid station.  No BS to Ryan, bad day for me, just going to enjoy myself.  Then 12 miles of road.  Legs fall off again, while going up.  Some guy passes me.  His pacer is carrying all his shit for him, #cheating #idontcare.  I'm walking, but walking fast...  Im whining in my head right now.  No, I'm such a stud to be walking so fast. 

New aid station up ahead, I act like I've been running the entire time.  Oh hey, its Geoff Roes.  I make a few jokes, he laughs, now the paved bike path heads downhill.  I jog, then run, then run fast.  I'm flying.  I pass at least 4 or 5 people.  I take a gel, I feel really good, make jokes at another aid station, keep the mood light, stay positive.  Now I'm running up this big climb.  Ok, hitting about 11,000 feet and snow again, I'm in a strong pow-hike, no one is gonna catch me at this rate, 42 miles in and I might be finding my form.  Some guy goes running by me like its no big thing.  I deflate physically/mentally (not sure), laugh, and decide not to suffer so much and relax.

I get to the top of the second to last climb.  Coughing.  A lot.  Kinda deep chest rattle.  Pulmonary edema?  Don't be dramatic.  Eat a gel, instantly barf neon green into the snow.  Lemon lime gel.  Eat another gel.  Stays down.  Run down fast.  Start seeing other runners who were way ahead of me.  I'm actually catching up.  Get to Minturn, GPS watch says 56 miles, aid station says 51.  Someone is lying.  Bachelorette party offers me a cigarette, I strongly consider taking a drag.  Decide no.  Grab my headlamp, and for no known reason decide to change shoes.  Bad idea.  Eat two turkey sandwiches on my way out, to the amusement of many passerbys I'm jugging Turkey Sandwich #2, headlamp, gloves, jacket, shirt, waterbottle.  

Up.  Up.  Up.  This again?  I catch a few more people, feeling strong at this altitude.  Starts getting dark.  Turn on headlamp.  Uh oh.  Not working.  Bad.  Arrogantly didn't think I would use it at this race - didn't change my batteries out from Leadville pacing duties (4pm-4am).  Rotate batteries.  Maybe 20 lumens.  

Top of last climb.  Eat soup.  Too hot, burn mouth, spit it out.  Politely ask them to put water in it.  Try again.  Good.  Ask for soup in my waterbottle.  Get a weird look.  Confirm that is what I desire.  Sipping on chicken broth all the way down the mountain.  

Where am I?  Lost again.  Turn around, go back up.  Find trail.  See a person with a pacer, dash ahead of them.  Stay ahead.  Run off trail into bushes and into a branch.  People behind ask if I'm OK, yes, just lost.  They guide me back on trail.  I dash ahead again.  I'm being stubborn.  OK lost again.  Last time I swear.  No reflective tape on flags, very few markings, headlamp almost dead, blah blah, poorly marked course at night.  Now the people who've I've been dashing in front of are gone.  Where did they go?

Finish line in sight.  Just finish.  Almost go the wrong way.  Finished in under 14 hours (30th at the "World Championships"), get belt buckle (all I really care about).  Coughing, trying to find Pizza, end up in a room that was supposed to be locked.  Its all set up for a wedding reception in the morning.  Am I hallucinating?  Smell Pizza, FIND PIZZA.  Chair.  People who I kept dashing in front of finish.  They got lost, despite the fact the pacer had run up that road earlier that day.  See!  Not just me.   I swear.  Hot tub.  Beer.  Sleep.

And that folks, is my UROC summary.  Everyone said it was long.  Probably 4 miles long.  66-67 miles, depending on how many times you got lost (67 miles for me!).  My legs honestly felt dead tired if I tried to go fast, they didn't ever really hurt, I had no cramping issues to speak of, but struggled mightily to find energy and keep food down when I got up above 10,000 feet.  That being said, I had a fantastic time, the pressure of racing hard was gone because I knew I just didn't have it.  Its nice to know that I'm strong enough to just kinda meander through a race on a sub-par day and still find the finish line.  I can't help but wonder if the race had been another 33 miles, would I have reeled in more people?  Despite no speed, I felt capable of moving at my pace all day, probably because I was going so slow earlier.

First year races are a gamble.  They need to figure out the distance, and mark the course better for night time running.  I believe 73 people finished out of 215 starters or something.  Thats a very very low finishing rate.  Perhaps that speaks to how hard the race is, but also how demoralizing it is to get lost/find out you have 5 miles further to go than you thought.  

Train, Race, Repeat

Yankee Springs 50k Race Report

My vision was starting to get a little bit blurry.  My legs feel real slow.  "Rocks in a blender" I believe is the scientific term.  Hmmm I think I might be bonking...  Mile 28 of Yankee Springs 50k.  

Then, I thought, recruit your hip flexors, and psoas muscles, engage your glutes, access those generally poorly-used muscles.  My cadence came back, and I went from a slow jog to a slow run.  Finally I was moving at a decent clip again. 

Bloomington
Flash Back to 10 days prior, when I was running in 12-15 inches of snow in and around Brown County and Bloomington with Scott Breeden.  5 hours a day. 4 days in a row, in fresh, deep, snow.  Oh crap my hip flexors, psaos muscles and glutes aren't used to this kind of running.  Holy crap my feet are cold.  This is awful and great at the same time.  Scott and I both approached the week with super positive attitudes, and this helped us have fun (although occasionally I found myself in the pain cave).  We averaged 4 miles per hour, day in and day out.  That's saying something if you know Scott Breeden.  

Fun

European shoes were the theme of the week

It was a tough training weekend.  Bloomington had been hit with a megastorm and we were too stubborn to change our plans.  But, this was what I call "character building".  Will Snyder met us and shot some film, making us look way cooler than we are.  Tim joined us for a run and we skied/ran part of the tecumseh trail system.  But the theme of the week; run until your legs are paralyzed from lactic acid, never changed.  I honestly have no idea what aerobic system or particular type of training we were doing.  It was partly awesome, because with all the fresh powder there was no pounding on your joints, but it was terrible because working at max capacity I might have been hitting 12 minute miles.  And then, sometimes I felt like I was skiing downhill, with varying levels of control.  Anyways, I came back stronger from this trip than I was before making the drive.  So when I started bonking at mile 28 of Yankee Springs, I told myself, yeah this sucks, but I know what to do. 

SB and JC near BC

Making tracks

Yankee Springs 50k
After a great night of sleep, aided by a nice warm cabin and a few Lagunitas brews, I found a spot up near the front of the pack for the start of the 50k, motioned Ryan Case to get up near me, and then the gun went off and it was on.

Luxury epitomized

After nearly missing the first turn, Ryan and I found ourselves in the lead, scurrying down a semi-slick snow covered dirt road .  After surveying the trails that crisscrossed the road for flags, we finally saw some marking and jumped onto the single track.  I was a step or two ahead of Ryan, and was like oh crap I'm in the lead, what the heck do I do now?  Well logically, go really hard, like blow up pace, and then try to hang on. 

Then as if wearing jet-packs, a runner came up behind me and stayed there.  We chatted for a while about races we had done and were thinking about doing, he seemed like a nice guy, albeit, seriously fast.  We ran past Ben Vanhoose who shouted out some encouragement and took a photo or two and gave me a hard time about my pre race statement of "taking it easy at this race" which had totally gone out the window when I found myself in the lead.  I let Jordan know that if he wanted to pass me, just say the word and I'd let him by.  We ran together for a few more miles then Jordan smoked on by and I didn't see him again until the end of the race.

Me with Jordan right behind (photo Ben Vanhoose)

Deciding I would defend second and try to save face by running under the course record (3:50), I pushed the pace as hard as I dared.  I was totally overdressed and sweating a lot by the time I got through 10 miles.  Fumbling around with my had and extra coat, I eventually shoved everything into the back of my tights.  So if my butt looks big in some pictures, I have a legit excuse, OK?

I finished the first 15.5 mile loop in 1:51, which was pretty quick for icy trails I thought, but made no progress on reining in Jordan.  I quickly threw my extra layers by the drop bags (which I had not even bothered packing i.e. stupid move), desperately wishing I had a fresh bottle and a couple extra gels to grab.

Pain cave (Photo Mark Robillard)

The second loop was flying by, until I came to the hillier back half.  It seemed like someone made the hills a little taller on the second loop...  hmm strange.  And the trail was starting to get chewed up as 200+ people had now run through.  And the gatoraide I got at the aid station was too sweet.  And I had to pee.  And I only had one gel left.  And my toe had a blister.  See lots of excuses!

I slowed down quite a bit. 

At mile 28 I thought I was bonking, so I took my last gel and stopped for a quick pee.  I heard cheers not far behind me and knew someone was closing in.  I started running again. 

My vision was starting to get a little bit blurry.  My legs feel real slow.  "Rocks in a blender" I believe is the scientific term.  Hmmm I think I might be bonking...  Mile 28 of Yankee Springs 50k.  

Then, I thought, recruit your hip flexors, and psoas muscles, engage your glutes, access those generally poorly-used muscles.  My cadence came back, and I went from a slow jog to a slow run.  Finally I was moving at a decent clip again. 

I focused on accessing and recruiting these muscles for the last three miles and thought about how much easier this was than running in a foot of snow.  I crossed the line happy to have recovered and feeling good, thinking I was in 2nd, but at least under the old course record.  Then I found out I was 1st.  Apparently Jordan had taken a wrong turn (bummer) on the first loop and never caught back up.  So now,  I win, I guess, I still feel like I didn't totally deserve it.  And then Ryan Case came flying across the finish line only 50 second behind me, taking 2nd!  

Glad to be done

Ryan's wife Alaina came in soon after that, earning second female.  So they were 2nd male and 2nd female, too cute guys.  I know you planned it that way.  Our other cabin-mate Tim came running in soon too, and then we celebrated another Ultra well-run with a nice bonfire, some adult beverages and refueled with whatever was close-by.  The next morning we went for a nice shakeout run, staying in tight formation, herded along by Ryan and Alaina's sheep dog.

Get herded by Cody

Take home message
Train hard, recruit unused muscles, remember to use them when you race.  Never give up, you never know what might happen.   Running in snow is fun.  Always have fun.