Northern California is burning...my ass!

Let me just start by saying one thing. F*#K, SH#t, ASS, BALLS! Ok, so maybe that was more like four things, but when you put six months of hard training toward one single event that doesn't go off, it's a little frustrating. As I'm sure most all of you have now heard, Western States was canceled for the first time in 35 years due to wildfires.

As devastated as I was to hear the news, it was the right decision. Having been down there, I can speak to the atrocious quality of the air. We didn't see sun for three days because of how much smoke is in the air. From the little bit that I've read, it also sounds like there was a fire burning within 2 miles of Dusty Corners. It certainly must have been a hard decision for the board to come to, but it was the ONLY choice given the conditions.

That being said, how bad is my luck with this damn race? I received a number of phone calls and text messages from friends and family offering their apologies. One in particular came from my friend Tim. He said he was sorry to hear the race was canceled, and then went on to say that I must have the worst luck at Western States. Now I'm not naive enough to think that I'm the only one who has had some hard knocks at Western States, but the odds of what has happened to me there over the past 3 years must be one million to one. I went from being a near winner in my first Western States, in what Tim Twietmeyer told me were the worst race conditions he'd seen in 25 years racing, to the first ever disqualified Western States winner. Then I went back last year in better shape only to get sick two weeks before the race and drop out at Dusty Corners. Ah, then there was this year. Third times a charm right? WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! This year I really felt more prepared than ever for the race, and I was really expecting a great finish. In fact, just minutes before the Hammer called me to tell me the news of the race cancellation, I had just told my wife and mom that I really felt good about how things were going to turn out this year. In 35 years, this was the first time the race was ever canceled. I'm sure that there are hundreds of other stories just like mine, but it's sure frustrating to put so much hard work into this and make so many sacrifices only to have 3 years and ZERO finishes at States.

How about the good news? Well evidently everyone scheduled to run this year has automatic entry for next year. Honestly, when I initially heard that the race was called off, I said that I wouldn't be coming back, at least not for a while. Of course, that was before I heard that everyone had a guaranteed spot for next year. So now what? I'll have to give it a little thought yet, but there's a pretty good chance that I'll roll the dice on this one next year. Maybe since this year's race never even got started, it won't count as my third time. Then I can still count on the third time's a charm rule. No, that won't work. This was the third time, but I can't possibly have bad luck 4 years in a row, right?

What goes up, must come down...100 GRAND!

On May 1st I reset the history on my Suunto T6. I wanted to know how many hours and how much ascent I could do before Western States. Having rolled over 1 million feet of ascent sometime in late April, I was curious to know how much climbing I could put in before the big day, so I reset the history and kissed my million plus goodbye.

Not really knowing what an attainable goal was, I set my sights on 75,000 feet of ascent. Well 75,000 came and went with the the month of May and I realized that 100,000 may not be out of reach. Well I'm proud to say that today my 14 mile run with 2657 feet of gain put my at 100,396 feet of ascent in 46 days. I can't tell you exactly how many miles I've run in that stretch, but I feel pretty dang good about that much vertical time.

Of course, as all Western States runners know it's the downhills that can kill you, so it may be just as important to note that I've descended 102,520 feet in that same time. I've never tracked my total ascent and descent so closely, so it's hard to know what it means, but it can't hurt to be averaging over 2,000 ft. a day.

Livin' the Dream

Whew! I'm a little tired, but no worse for the wear. Having just returned from a running road trip to Auburn, CA with the Alabama Hammer, I'm feeling more ready than ever for States. With just under 3 weeks to go, there's still some work to be done, but after the past 9 or 10 days of hard training, things are looking pretty good.

Just prior to leaving, I did a one and a half repeat of Mt. Si on Friday and a PR 12 peaks on Saturday. My thanks to Greg Crowther and Susannah Beck for pushing the pace on that one. For being a couple of super quick road runners, they greatly impressed me with their speed on such rugged terrain.

On Sunday morning, the Hammer and I loaded into the rented Prius and hit the road. We rolled into Ashland, OR around 3:30 pm and headed straight to Rogue Valley Runners. Hal and Carly were out of town, but we connected with Ian and met Erik Skaggs. Having been in the car for eight plus hours, it was time to stretch out our legs, so Ian laid out directions for a nearby trail run.

We were able to run a little over two hours on trails that led right out of the town's central park. These trails are the real deal too. They climb like crazy right off the bat, and there's everything from double track road to windy, technical singletrack. We awoke monday morning and squeezed in one more run in Ashland before hitting the road. Ian, Erik, Chris and Jenn led us through their six mile trail race course. I just can't say enough about what a good thing they having going down there. And geez, look at the talent pool Hal's assembled. I'm convinced that Ashland is a trail runner's paradise.

As much as we were enjoying Ashland, we had work to do on the WS trail. Thankfully Ashland is over half way to Auburn from Seattle, so Monday's drive seemed downright quick compared to the previous day's haul. We rolled into Auburn sometime around 6:00 pm or so and anxiously parked the car and threw on our running clothes. Monday's are normally an off day for me, but being on a road trip specifically to run made me think otherwise. The sun was still beating down as we left the track and began down Robie Point to No Hands Bridge. It was quite surreal to run this section of trail for the first time since my 2006 debacle, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

On Tuesday, our first full day on the course, we opted to run up in the high country. We parked at Robinson Flat and ran out beyond Duncan Canyon aid station. There was still a lot of blow down and a little snow from Robinson down to the bottom of Duncan Canyon. As we climbed back up out of the canyon, it was obvious that the clearing work had begun in earnest on the other side. Still there was a lot of saw briar out there, and our legs took a lashing. The weather was not the warm sunshine that we'd hoped for, it even sprinkled a little, but it felt good to be on the State's trail regardless. We finished the run in just under four hours and figured it to be 20 or 21 miles.

Wednesday we awoke to sunny skies and warmer temps. Just what I'd hoped for on the day we intended to hit the big canyons. We drove down to Michigan Bluff and parked the car. Having the one car meant that everything was to be an out and back, so we planned to run out to Last Chance and back. The Hammer had never seen the canyons, and was pleasantly surprised by how lush and beautiful they really are. He had imagined them to be much more barren and dusty. We ran a pretty relaxed pace out to LC. Once we were there, a very friendly fellow doing some work on the course pointed us to the spring to fill our bottles. He said it had never been tested, but people had been drinking from it for years. Sounded good to me, so we filled our bottles and pushed the pace back to MB. Aside from a wipeout right through a bunch of poison oak, I was very impressed with how strong I felt hammering the downhills. As I crossed the Swinging bridge, I told myself to run every step up the Devil's Thumb just so on race day I could tell myself it's not so bad. It wasn't easy, but I did run every single step up the Devil's Thumb.

We quickly stopped atop Devil's Thumb to discuss our plan. I told AH that I was going to run back through Michigan Bluff and add on the jaunt through Volcano Canyon. I told him where the key would be, and he'd come meet me at the base of Bath road with the car. Reaching the bottom of El Dorado canyon I quickly hopped into the river hoping it would rinse off any poison oak oils. Feeling refreshed from the cool dip, I mostly ran back up to Michigan Bluff. Once back at the car, I refilled just one bottle and grabbed another gel before hammering down the dirt road out of Michigan Bluff. Although it wasn't hot hot, it was definitely warmer as I descended into Volcano Canyon.

The Hammer was waiting for me just as planned at the bottom of Bath Road. He was psyched on his run and commented how good he felt climbing up to MB out of El Dorado Canyon. I finished my run in 5:32 and figured it to be about 30 miles with nearly 9,000 feet of ascent. We piled back into the car and headed to Auburn for a little grub and then down to the American River to soak in the sun. The sun, even though not all that hot, was such a treat for us. We haven't seen consistent sunshine in Seattle for months and months.

For our final run on Thursday, we decided to hit Cal Street. Again, having only one car, we decided to run down to the river, then take Driver's Flat Rd. up to the highway and hitchhike back to Foresthill. Thursday was the warmest day of the bunch, and it felt so good to blaze down Cal Street to the river with no shirts on. Geez, how long had it been since either one of us had had our shirts off outside in Seattle? For clarification sake, we parked and started in front of the library not the school, but we arrived at the river crossing in 2 hours and some seconds. Granted it didn't come after 62 miles, but it felt good nontheless.

Somehow we got separated down at the river, and we each climbed out of the canyon alone. The Hammer made it out first and found a ride back without even having to hitchhike. I followed, but unfortunately didn't have his luck and had to thumb it back. Only a half dozen or so cars passed before I was picked up. As I climbed out of the van at the library, I was relieved to see that AH had also made it back safely. We sorted out what happened and were laughing about it in no time.

Thursday night we arrived back in Ashland and met Hal and Carly at the pub for burgers and beer. It was so good to catch up with them and to hear about the store and life in Ashland. They were kind enough to offer up their home, so we crashed at their house and were able to shower. We headed out for one more run in Ashland Friday morning, and then stopped by the store to say our goodbyes before driving north to Seattle.

This trip rocked in so many ways. The Hammer and I got a lot of training in and had tons of fun along the way. It feels good to have some fond memories to go along with my many crappy memories of the WS trail. The real treat, at least for me, was to be able to bookend the trip with stops in Ashland and catch up with friends. The drive itself was made bearable and sometimes even enjoyable with monster riffs courtesy of My Morning Jacket and Pearl Jam.

BONUS: Our rented Toyota Prius averaged 46.5 mpg and only took 4 full tanks of gas!

The calm before the storm

Having trained and raced hard for four weeks, last week was a much needed recovery week. Since I had a couple days off work and no racing to be done, Andrea and I headed east to seek out a little sun. We left midday Friday and drove over to the Methow Valley to camp for the weekend.

I couldn't have asked for a more refreshing getaway. The weather was fan-Frickin'-tastic. Finally we got a little sunshine, and Andrea, Kiwi, and I took full advantage. We hiked, swam, mountain biked, and ran...just a bit. A little sunshine and warm weather goes a long way in recharging the body.

Update: Having taken so long to finish this post, I've since had another week of big volume following the recovery described above. Boy, hard training and frequent blogging do not go hand in hand, at least for me. Training is going very well, and I can't wait for this next week. The Alabama Hammer and I are headed down to Auburn to get a little time on the course. I'll try to be a little more dilligent with my posting. Thanks for the understanding. Now back to training.

Back to B-ham

This past weekend capped off a big block of training. I raced two 50 mile races in a four week span. The second of which took place Saturday in Bellingham, WA. My plan had been to race the Quicksilver 50 miler, but when the North Face Challenge was moved to Bellingham, it seemed too good to pass up.

I had never run a step on dirt until my final year at Western Washington University. As I began climbing more frequently and running roads to stay in shape, the notion of combining the two took hold. I really owe my introduction to trail running to the folks at Fairhaven Runners. On a whim, I showed up for a Wednesday night trail run in 2001. Yes, that's right, a night trail run. It must have been mid-November and it was dark by the 6pm start time. Therefore, all were instructed to bring headlamps or flashlights. Admittedly, I was a little nervous about running on trail in the dark, but I trusted their trail running expertise. I was hooked immediately and was soon a fixture at the mid week runs. We ran extensively on Chuckanut Mountain and sometimes even ventured further south to the trails of Blanchard Mountain. Since moving to Seattle, I only get up to Bellingham 2 or 3 times a year to run, and I cherish those few occasions.

Saturday's race was an exciting return to those trails where it all began. Due to the early start time, I was up and about by 3 am. Thankfully, I'm an early riser and was psyched to begin in the wee hours of the morning. We were required to carry lights for the first hour of the race, but I only clicked mine on in one or two places. It was so much more pleasant to run under the gradually increasing natural light of the day. I went out in front, but knowing that I was running a challenging course on hard-ridden legs, I kept things in check.

I ran alone for the first few miles until my shoe was sucked right off my foot on the descent toward Lost Lake. At that point Dan Gallant caught up to me, and we ran together most of the way to the 3rd aid station. Doug McKeever greeted me at the third aid station and told me how much I'd like the next section of trail. I believe he called it the Hush Hush trail, and it was a very pretty, winding climb up to Dan's Traverse and the beginning of the technical ridge trail.

While quick-footing it through the rocks and roots of the ridgeline trail, I was joined by Andrew Mullenix. Andrew, an Ironman triathlete and first time ultra runner, was moving quickly. For the first time all day, I started to feel a bit of competitiveness and tried to notch up the pace. I popped out at the 4th aid station just moments before Andrew and was met by my wife with two full bottles of Nuun ready to go. Wasting no time, I grabbed the bottles and took off down the trail.

Being a fairly strong downhill runner, I planned to take advantage of the next 3 miles of descent. Andrew showed no signs of letting up though, and he was with me stride for stride down the trail and onto the dirt road. Although my legs felt good, my stomach was feeling a bit unsettled and Andrew pulled ahead as the course transitioned back to singletrack. After succumbing to a quick pit-stop, I was feeling a little down but not quite out. I reminded myself that this was just another step toward my "real" goal. There would be bigger fish to fry in just over a month. As much as I believed that, it was still tough to let Andrew go.

Much to my surprise, as I ran into the halfway aid station, Andrew was just heading out. My wife was again there with a full waistpack and a couple more bottles. Feeling a little surge of confidence, I took off after Andrew, and we began the longest climb of the day. Knowing that climb could make or break the day, I pushed the pace to an uncomfortable level. Slowly I pulled away, but even as I crested the climb, Andrew was still in sight.

That was the last time I saw Andrew, but I felt he was never far behind. Having run hard up the road, I was relieved to hit the next steeply descending section of single track. My quads felt great, and I was able to hammer downhill. The trail soon opened back up onto road, and in the distance, I could see an aid station full of runners. I was now sharing the course with the 50k runners, and it provided a nice break from the monotony of running alone. There were a few familiar faces and I even stopped to give a hug to my good friend and 50k runner, Don Mukai.

The excitement of seeing so many other runners soon wore off, and my stomach again rebelled. I was nearly to the mile 37 aid station, when I bent over and began puking for the first time. It was over and done with in a timely manner, and I felt immediately better. Reaching into my pouch, I pulled out a couple pieces of ginger and ate them instinctively. All was better, at least for the time being. I rolled into the aid station and was met again by my bottle-wielding wife. A few quick words of encouragement from her and I was on my way again.

The four miles to the next aid station seemed like the longest stretch of the whole day. Knowing I needed to keep eating, even though nothing sounded appealing, I began sticking one Clif block at a time into my mouth and just sucking on it until it was gone. I figured that'd be easy enough on my stomach and at least a few calories would make their way back on board. It seemed to do the trick. Finally, I emerged into a broad clearing with an awe-inspiring view across the Samish Flats. This was home to the mile 42 aid station and the last time I'd see Andrea until the finish.

Armed with two full bottles of ice cold water, I set off downhill at a pretty good clip. I knew the descent would be short lived, so I ate a gel and took an electrolyte cap, preparing for the final, burly climb to the top of Blanchard Mountain. Almost immediately my stomach protested and again I buckled over and puked. Thankfully this was followed again with instant relief. I scratched and clawed my way up the ridiculously steep ascent to Lily Lake and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Knowing that the climbs were all behind me and feeling the magnetic pull of the finish line, I took off downward to the final aid station.

A quick sip of Coke, and I was out of the aid station just like that. With 2.5 miles to go, and mostly on dirt road, I was really able to open up. I didn't know how far back the next 50 miler was, but I wanted to erase any chance of getting caught in the final couple of miles. Knowing that there was no chance I'd blow up in the final mile, I kept my foot on the gas (by fifty mile standards) all the way to the finish. I ended up winning in a time of 7:58. Andrew hung on for second, finishing about 20 minutes later.

I'm ecstatic to have won the race, but more importantly I feel like my training is right on target for Western States. As I mentioned earlier, this was the first time I'd ever run two 50 milers in such a short timespan and with no rest in between. If nothing else, it feels good to be going into Western States with two fifty mile wins under my belt.

I hope this race happens again next year at the same venue. It was a beautifully rugged course with solid organization. I'll be the first to admit that I was very skeptical going into this race, but all my worries were put to rest from the beginning. I wouldn't mind making this an annual trip to B-ham.

TNF update

Since ultra results are so hard to come by, I figured I'd just take a moment to highlight yesterday's Northwest Region Endurance Challenge. Just as a quick aside, the course was very well marked, much to the relief of all runners. Nikki Kimball won the women's 50 mile, and I won the men's 50 mile race. Krissy Moehl was the overall winner of the 50k. The 50 mile and 50k courses were very rugged. My watch logged 10,500 feet of ascent for the 50 miler, and Krissy said that she'd logged 6600 for the 50k. When I have a bit more time, I'll post a more complete write-up.

Almost there

Whew! I'm so close to a little recovery. All that stands in my way is a mere 50 miles of racing on Saturday at the North Face Endurance Challenge. Don't get me wrong. I'm feeling really good all things considered. Normally I stick to a 3 week on 1 week off program, but the way my race schedule worked out, I'm pushing through a fourth week of big miles. I've never done a big block like this with two 50 mile races mixed in, so next week will be a much deserved reprieve.

Even with some decent prize money, I'm having to remind myself that this race is just a tune-up. There's much more than money on the line in another month and a half. So I'm just looking forward to getting back up to Bellingham and running the trails where it all began for me. I'll post a report after the race.