The Hardrock Quandary

I had planned to spend a light summer of trail running while cross-training on the bike and focusing on corework. You know, all the stuff that most of us ultra-runners seem to ignore. Around mid-July the realization that I no longer have a Hardrock qualifier for next year's lottery means that my quest to run Hardrock 100 has come to an end. After talking with my long time friend and equally unsuccessful HR entrant Chris Fall, he convinced me to reconsider. Here is my thought process about the possibility of pulling off a 100-mile trail race in time to qualify for the Hardrock 100 lottery for 2015.

 

I have entered the lottery the past four years. I had 8 tickets in the 2014 lottery and next year would have 16 if I had a valid qualifying race. I could have started trying sooner and bettered my chances of getting selected to the point that I probably would have been drawn by now. My first 100-mile finish was Western States in 2006 which was considered a qualifier at that time. I was afraid of Hardrock in 2007 and 2008. I only had two hundreds under my belt, the second one being Wasatch in 2007. Hardrock is considered a post-graduate run and I was only in my second year of school preceded by an early dropout at Angeles Crest in 2003. I couldn't fathom trying something that difficult that early in my 100-mile career. Then I read some race reports and eventually traveled to Silverton, Colorado to help Bob Bachani with his race in 2009. Last year I paced him for the last 40 miles during his third finish whcih awarded him his Post-Doctorate of Distance. I've also trained on many of the trails and seen about 65% of the course. I'm not afraid anymore.

After last year's Leadville finish I should have had two years of eligibility in the lottery good through 2015. The HR Board determined that Leadville would no longer be a qualifier and allowed those of us who finished in 2013 to use it for only one year. Kind of a bullshit move if you ask me. I don't have a problem with removing Leadville but to take away a year of lottery eligibility was unnecessary. My quandary is that I would need another qualifier this year instead of backing off for a year and taking it easy; which is what I've been doing so far this summer. I basically had written off the HR post-graduate accomplishment and decided to move on although it still bothered my soul.

Now as Hardrock weekend approaches and I am sitting it out in Tucson it has occurred to me that I have put too much effort and sacrifice into making this happen to let it go. To throw it away just to start over with one ticket a couple of years from now makes no sense. How can I accomplish the seemingly impossible task of running an HR qualifier between now and December 1^st?

First of all, there are very few qualifying runs left. My only two options are on the same weekend of September 27^th. Bear 100 traverses the Northern Wasatch Range near the border of Utah and Idaho north of Salt Lake City starting in Logan. I finished Bear in 2009 coming off a torn hamstring four months earlier. I power hiked all of my training and had a goal of 34 hours, 2 hours under the 36 hour cut-off. I managed some light running on downhills but stuck mainly to the hiking plan and finished in just over 30 hours including a 30-minute nap. Bear is a beautiful course especially in the fall when the leaves are turning color and only one state away from Arizona for travel purposes.

The other race is much closer to home and starts in Pine, Arizona north of Payson. The Mogollon Monster is run along many of the Mogollon Rim trails and is actually 106 miles in length. A good portion of the route is on trails that I have run during my 5 Zane Grey 50-mile finishes. The race cost is $235 and I would have to complete 8 hours of volunteer work between now and then. The major plus to this option is that I can drive up there and not incur nearly the travel costs of going to Utah. Plus I could more easily get a pacer to go with me. I believe the obvious answer is to stay nearer to home and hug the Monster.

My biggest conundrum is how I get ready to attempt this feat in two and a half months with some level of confidence that I can finish in the 36-hour cutoff. Another problem is convincing my wife Trish that this is something that makes any sense at all. We've had some recent discussions and determined that running 100 miles maybe isn't the best thing for one's health. I can't deny that I have looked like death warmed over for up to a week after some of my 100-mile finishes. I think that after learning some lessons about taking care of myself during the event I have fared much better afterwards. I believe that being realistic about my current ability and accepting that 3 miles an hour from the start is the proper thing to do will lead to a successful finish.

For now I am going to plan a couple of longish (30-40 miles) mountainous trail run/hikes between now and Labor Day weekend. That gives me 3 available training weekends. I have National Guard drill on two other weekends between now and then so those are out. I could go back-to-back days on a couple of weekends and plan one overnighter. The whole goal here is to finish the 106 miles with no time goals except meeting the cut-offs and gaining my qualifier. I would have to try and not only stay awake all night but for another 12 hours the next day; excellent Hardrock training by the way.

I have to admit that the mountains are a part of who I am. The challenge of getting out there all day and night in the weather and amongst the natural beauty is something I cannot just walk away from. I am going to give myself until after Labor Day weekend to make my decision on this. Any thoughts…encouragement…stupid…crazy…impossible...are greatly appreciated.

MY FIRST BOSTON MARATHON EXPERIENCE - 2014

The 2014 trip to Boston would be my first.  I had never been to New England or run the famous Boston Marathon. I have completed over 50 marathons and ran Boston qualifying times in almost everyone of them. I had been continually asked over the years by fellow runners, family, and co-workers, "Are you going to run Boston?"

"No...why would I?" The travel costs and logistics of finding a place to stay, and the horror stories of standing around in corralled waiting areas for hours prior to the start of the race; none of this sounded fun to me. Another major factor against running Boston for me and my Guard team running compatriots is the fact that the National Guard trials marathon is only two weeks after the Boston race. Who would run Boston and expect to run a fast enough time 13 days later at Lincoln, risking not making the team for the upcoming year?

Well, after the tragedy of the Boston Marathon finish line 2013, I and every other marathoner that could qualify wanted to be in Boston April 21, 2014 to help support the event and community by displaying our presence in defiance of terrible acts of wrongdoing. I ran a minus 20 minute Boston qualifier and was reasonably certain I could attain a spot in this year's expanded field of 36,000 runners. The Guard team was also eager to represent so I traveled with a small contingent of the team. I showed up for the first time in 24 years of running marathon races.

Trish and I flew out of Phoenix on Saturday two days before the Monday race. We found a non-stop 5 plus hour flight into Logan Airport. As soon as we boarded the plane I recognized Shalane Flanagan sitting in the first row of first class. She is currently the best female marathoner in the U.S. and was heading to Boston to run her own amazing race (7^th place and 3-minute PR in 2:22). The flight was filled with runners all making their own pilgrimage to the running Mecca of Beantown. The entire flight experienced abnormal turbulence. The flight attendants had their hands full trying to keep a hundred hydrating runners in their seats and out of the aisles standing in bathroom lines.

We stayed at the Constitution Inn in Charlestown, northeast of downtown Boston. The Freedom Trail right outside our door led us past the USS Constitution and the Bunker Hill Monument. Saturday evening we walked over to Warren Tavern and enjoyed a pint of Harpoon IPA. The tavern dates back to 1780 and is known for George Washington's visits for "refreshments."

On Sunday I went over to the race expo to get my race number and packet. Luckily this was the third day of the expo and many runners had already been there. It was still very busy and was abuzz with excitement and energy. Later that afternoon we stopped for lunch at a brewpub downtown next to TD Garden where the Bruins and Celtics play. There happened to be a hockey playoff game that afternoon and downtown was filled with fans wearing jerseys and pre-lubing for the game.

Finally the day of the race arrived. Boston Marathon starts unusually late in the morning compared to other races. This year they developed a 4-wave start, each 25 minutes apart with the first wave starting at 10am. Each wave was separated into 9 corrals all according to your qualifying time. I was in wave 1, corral 7, number 6433. We got dropped off by our support people at the final bus transport to Hopkinton Village. At 9am the first wave was allowed to leave for the .7 mile stretch to the start line. I spent a long time waiting in line at the port-o-johns and eventually jogged to the start around 9:30. Plans were made the previous week to meet my friend Tim Vandervlugt at the start so we could run together. He had the same wave and corral as me and with only 1,000 people in each corral I didn't think it would be that hard to find him. We agreed to meet one-third of the way back on the left hand side. I got there and looked around until less than one minute before the start when he showed up.

The weather turned out to be perfect. It was a sunny day in the low 50s with a light tailwind and a predicted high of 65 degrees. There were already hundreds of people outside of the corrals cheering for runners and offering last minute support in the form of Vaseline, band-aids, and water. There was even a group of college students offering beer, cigarettes, and donuts. A vibration of excitement filled the air as the Star Spangled Banner was sung followed by a 4-ship Blackhawk helicopter flyover. The start-gun went off and we began to walk toward the start line. It would take 5 minutes to reach the actual start before we clicked on our watches and the chip on our race bibs gave proof we had crossed the line.

My plan was to run 7:15 mile pace with Tim for 13-16 miles. Tim expressed that from there he wanted to pick-up the pace and see what he could do. I knew that I needed to purposely slow the pace after the halfway mark in order to save some energy for Lincoln in two weeks. We started out easily amongst a throng of screaming spectators. Shortly the course was lined in trees instead of people and many runners peeled off to relieve themselves after standing in line too long holding their water. This looked like a good idea and was the perfect time to take care of business. With the pit stop our first mile clocked 7:41.

Our pace quickly settled in around 7 minutes as the first part of the race course is slightly downhill. The pack did not thin out as we ran elbow to elbow and had to keep an eye out not to step on heels. The spectators along the course were like nothing I had ever witnessed. The entire route was lined with cheering and screaming fans. They were shouting, "U..S..A.., U..S..A..," and singing "Sweet Caroline," by Neil Diamond. The runners joined in on the chants and sang along with the chorus. It was incredible! I have never experienced this before, it was spiritual and motivational.  

After 8 miles the pack had still not thinned out very much. My right ankle was aching a bit probably from wearing lightweight trainers instead of the Hokas I had been training in. Occasionally it seemed that the temperature was getting warmer and it might become hot but then we ran through a shady stretch and a light breeze cooled us off again. Tim and I decided to keep up the 7 minute pace until after the famous Wellesley College section of screaming female fanatics at mile 13. Around mile 12 I could hear the girls from a half-mile away. Many of them were holding signs describing their ethnicity or special talents that could be transferred to a runner by giving them a kiss. I watched many male runners zip over to the side and get a smooch. I ran by low-fiving their outstretched hands and grinning ear to ear as the high pitch of frenzied excitement continued for almost 2 miles.

After Wellesley Tim kept up the pace and I slowed to 7:30 miles. My feet and ankles were feeling the effect of pavement pounding so I lessened my pace to that of a comfortable long run. This would last until Heartbreak Hill. Never running the course before and hearing stories I could only visualize Heartbreak Hill on an elevation map. It didn't look like much but then again you have to run 20 miles to get to it. There was a hill right after the 19-mile marker that I thought was Heartbreak but it was too short. Shortly after the 20-mile marker I experienced the Heartbreak. Due to the hill it turned out to be my slowest mile split of the race at 7:50. I managed to run every step and not give into the temptation to take a walk break. At this point in the race there were dozens of people walking on the sides of the street. Whenever the desire to slow down to a walk occurred I moved over to the right side of the road and slapped hands with the multitudes of children waving their hands out for high-fives. The influx of energy and emotion from the crowd kept me moving.

With 10K to the finish my legs were tired and I searched for each mile marker. The crowds lining the course were three to five rows deep and the cheering was deafening. There were people standing on mailboxes and milk crates. At mile 24 it began to sink in that my journey on the historic Boston Marathon course would be over in 15 minutes. Part of me didn't want the race to end but physically I was aching to cross the finish line and stop and find my wife Trish.

I passed the "1K to go" marker which is just over half of a mile and then shortly after that made a left turn onto Boylston Street where last year's tragic events unfolded in the form of a terrorist bomb. Last year's horrific human-caused tragedy resulting in hundreds of injuries and three deaths would be transformed this year into a determined celebration of life. At this time the thoughts and scenes from last year did not surface as I went by mile 26 and surged for 2 tenths of a mile in order to cross the finish line amidst a screaming mob of cheers. Shortly after I stopped and walked a couple hundred feet on painful feet, ankles, and knees I collected my finisher's medal. I finally found and captured the elusive unicorn.

 

My finish time of 3:11:51 hopefully would prove that I saved a little for the trials in two weeks. At the 13.1 mark I was at 1:33 so my second half was 8 minutes slower than the first half. This is typical but the closer the gap is for the better. It indicates a more even paced race throughout. When the difference is over 10 minutes it usually means that you crashed and burned somewhere after 16 miles and much suffering took place. This wasn't the case for me as I managed to run every step of the way. Every finisher was provided with a lightweight poncho to keep warm and then walked through a gamut of food and drink giveaways.

The pain of running 26.2 miles slowly dissipated as I found Trish and other friends who had already finished their race. It turned out to be a beautiful afternoon in Boston on Victory Day. As we walked the 2 miles back to our hotel we noticed all of the pubs and restaurants were filled with people watching the marathon on television and enjoying libations. For the Boston Marathon, community, spectators, and runners around the world, they got their city and their marathon back. This is one day that I will never forget.

Aravaipa Running - Crown King Scramble 50K Race Report 2014

April 5th is the 11^th time that I have run to Crown King from the floor of the Phoenix desert valley. I did the 50K 10 times and the 50-mile once. Like the back of the race shirt says, "Spines to Pines." I wasn’t sure I would publish a race report this time simply because my traverse, time, and finish place aren’t unusual or amazing. The fact that I started doing CKS in 1997 and am still doing it 17 years later tells a different story.

 

Trish, me, and the dogs (Rangas and Reo) drove up to North Phoenix Friday night and got a hotel room 40 minutes away from the start at Lake Pleasant. The weather prediction for Saturday called  for a cooler than normal day in early April. Last year was in the high 80s and this year didn’t get over 70 and was maybe 55 degrees at the finish with a 10mph breeze.

Many times in the past I only carried two hand-held 20 ounce water bottles. This is usually enough except for the warmest days. But since I’m not concerned about blazing times and a little extra weight I opted to wear a 70 ounce Nathan’s hydration pack. I knew I would only need to refill this one time but it was convenient for carrying other supplies as well; gels, e-caps, bandana, etc.

We arrived at the 6am start with 15 minutes to spare. I quickly checked in and donned my hat and sunglasses and jogged over to line-up. It’s always fun to see everyone for a minute or two before take-off. I found Scott Modzielewski (Mojo) running for his 12^th plus time and shook hands with many others like Rich McKnight, Joe Galope, and Nick Coury. James Bonnett did the countdown and we were off. I don’t think I ever seen anyone take off as fast as shirtless Dave James. I thought he was in another race at first the way he sprinted off into the distance.

The first mile and a half is on rolling pavement and then onto dirt roads. The next several miles are scenic and casual cruising along at long run training pace jacking jaws with friends. I started running with Mojo and then sidled up with Paul Bonnett for awhile. The sky was partly cloudy as the sun came up in the east over Lake Pleasant. It was turning into a gorgeous morning.

As far as 5 miles into the race I ran with Bret Sarnquist for a bit. He won Mesquite Canyon 50K two weeks earlier and was using CKS as a trainer for Zane Grey 50-mile in 3 weeks. I was impressed with the way he held back and started conservatively in order to better tackle the late hills.

Like I stated earlier this is the 11^th time I’ve been out here but this time I felt totally in tune with the beauty of the Sonoran Desert combined with the history of the area in the Bradshaw Mountains. I chose once again not to look at my GPS watch although I could hear the beeps every mile. I took short walk breaks on the early steep hills and pushed the pace on the long gradual downhills. The first 8-mile Cow Creek aid station came and went quickly and before I knew it I reached the 15-mile French Creek aid and hunkered down for the real challenge that lay ahead.

Miles 15-19 are probably the toughest part of the course but it’s early enough that you still have energy coming out of 15 to take it head on. That kind of strategy backfires for most people except the super strong or completely naïve. The steepest hill on the course is approaching mile 19. The best advice I can give here is to walk up it slowly. The sun is beating down on you and your legs are burning from lactic acid. Better to get to the top undamaged, fill your water bottles at the 19-mile aid at Silver Mountain, and take advantage of the very runnable next four miles into Fort Misery.

I set off on a downhill from 19 and maintained a decent clip coming into mile 23. Normally this is where the heat can be unbearable. Today was nothing but cool breezes and a moderate sweat when chugging up a hill. The aid station volunteers have a nice set-up at Fort Misery and were dressed in super hero costumes. Leaving 23 is uphill for a half-mile but has some decent runnability after that until around mile 26 when the deception takes place.

Oro Belle aid station mile 27 sits in view from way down below a couple miles away. You will lose sight of it every once in awhile as the road curves back and forth into a mountain draw. It comes back into view again and somehow isn’t any closer. You always know you’re getting nearer when you see Linda Van’s joke signs coming up the last climb to 27. Example: "This Hill Might be Easier if you Were Younger." As a bonus once you reach the long sought-after aid station there are still 2 more miles of ascent to top-out. Most people are pretty much blown at this point and end up walking to 29. It was no different for me. I got my arm swing going which helped pick up my walking pace.

With a half-mile to top-out the road turns sandy and you are in the pines. One last short climb and there sits the radio vehicle signalling the top of the hill. Here comes your reward, what you’ve been waiting for the entire day – two miles of soft dirt road in shady pines all the way to the finish, albeit in the company of several ATV riders. I breakdown the last 2 miles into three sections; first I look for the heliport sign; then the left-hand split to town; lastly I look for the cabins coming into sight on the left and you are less than a minute away – total relief!

As I mentioned I never looked at my watch and was concerned that I was much slower than last year. When the clock showed 5:25 I was surprised to be only one minute behind. I really enjoyed the course and am glad I decided to throw the clock out the window much earlier in the day.

This year Aravaipa Running lined up a new finish area which had lots of room to spread out for runners, family, and supporters. There was a band playing on stage, cheap beer specials, and an awesome spread of food catered by The Mill restaurant. It was great fun talking with the first and second place male finishers from Tucson, Gabe McGowan (4:13) and Dennis Pollow (4:19). I also ran into Mike Wilke, an old comrade in previous ultra boondoggles, who had just finished his first CKS.

After a 5-year hiatus Crown King Scramble 50K made a comeback in 2013 and is just as healthy this year. All of the new people that ran this year need to bring two friends next year. At one time in the late 90's and early 2000’s CKS was the fifth largest 50K in the United States. The main allure to come out to this race is the camaraderie everyone shares trying to conquer the climb and then join the party at the finish. You really can’t turn around and quit. It may take all day but you will get there.

Race Report: Aravaipa Running - Mesquite Canyon 50K, Saturday March 22, 2014

I woke up at 3:30am the morning of the race to drive to White TankMountain Regional Park in Waddell, Arizona, 173 miles from my house in Vail, Arizona. The 50K start time is at 7:30 so leaving the house at 4:15 was necessary to arrive there by 7am and get ready. The sun started to rise on the White Tank Mountains while I was still driving west on I-10 near Avondale. I had never given much thought to that big range west of Phoenix during past trips to California. Now those same mountains held many mysteries as to what I should expect over the next several hours of trail running.

One of the coolest things about being part of Team Aravaipa this year, besides my awesome teammates, is that I have experienced several new mountain trails that I never knew existed in the Phoenix Valley. I pulled into the overflow parking lot just in time to pin on my race number and stash my after-race bag. The temperature at the start is already in the low 60s with a forecast high of 82 degrees. I line up next to Jane Larkindale and her husband Jim Holmes, both of whom also drove up from the Tucson area. Jane won the 50-mile event last year. She like many other runners are here to get a good training run in for Zane Grey 50M in 5 weeks. I'm here to ramp up my race distance in preparation for Crown King 50K in just 2 weeks.

My plan was to do a training 50K on this semi-mountainous single-track trail. I use the word semi because the highest elevation is around 3200 feet and the toughest climb on the course is 1700 feet over 3 miles. No drop in the bucket but definitely not alpine. One logistical factor of note is that there are 9 miles without aid or water between miles 4 and 13 and returning from 13 to 22. This prompted me to use a 70 ounce hydration pack. I also carried a 20 ounce hand-held for electrolyte fluids. I did notice several runners only carrying 2 hand-held bottles. I’m not a big hydration freak but knowing that the course is exposed on a sunny 80 degree day made my decision easy. Luckily there were light breezes up on the higher trails as well as some wispy clouds to take the bite out of the direct sunlight.

I have been regularly training in the Hoka One One Rapa Nui trail shoes and wore them during the race. They seem to be holding up well at over 300 cumulative miles. The week prior I used the Rapa Nui on the 21 mile Esperero Loop in Tucson, gaining 5,000 feet in 8 miles and then mainly descending over the next 13 miles. My quads were abnormally sore for four days after that run and I was concerned the Hokas were losing their magic. It turned out that it was just Esperero being difficult.

I clicked my Garmin on but made a conscious decision to not look at my time during the entire race. I started off at a conversational pace for the first two miles. After reviewing the elevation profile I knew somewhere around mile 3 would be the start of a 7-mile 1600 foot gradual ascent. The profile looks worse on paper than it feels while actually running. After some initial short steep sections the trail is very runnable even on the gradual uphills. I don’t mind walking up hills when needed but the majority of the uphill through Mesquite and Slick Rock canyons is doable even if only in granny gear.

(Aravaipa Photo Gallery)

By mile 5 the field had thinned out and I focused on bodily feedback while enjoying the beautiful desert views. The trail ascends along canyon walls and as you get higher the views of the surrounding valley are expansive. Thankfully we got a good soaking of rain a couple weeks ago; the wildflowers were in full bloom and very fragrant. Jeremy Dougherty caught up with me on the last mile of ascent on this section. We chatted about how great the day was turning out. After topping out at 10 miles the course drops precipitously for 2 miles through an obstacle course of ankle twisting rocks. Jeremy’s ability to negotiate the downhill was better than mine and he quickly disappeared ahead of me. The first 30K runners coincidentally were halfway up their ascent from the Black Canyon aid station.

(Aravaipa Photo Gallery)

The descent into Goat Canyon is a preview of the climb back up from the 13-mile Black Canyon aid station. By the time I reached the turaround and aid the temperature at 1500 feet elevation was noticeably warmer than up on the higher trail. This was especially evident running through the sandy sections on the way back into Goat Canyon and climbing out to the top-out at mile 16. Occasionally as I passed other runners on the uphill I noticed several were sweating profusely and taking breaks. This served as a good reminder to ingest a couple of electrolyte caps.

Speaking of nutrition here’s how my day went. I carried 5 GU salty caramel gels and only used 3 of them. These are delicious by the way and have 20mgs of caffeine. I drank three 20 ounce bottles of Gatorade and a small cup of ginger ale. At the 13-mile aid station my 70 ounce hydration pack was still half full and only needed another 20 ounce refill at mile 22. So in total I drank 60 ounces of electrolyte fluid and another 70 ounces of water over 5 hours. I used 4 e-caps and 600mgs of liqui-gel ibuprofen. I also had about a half-dozen Tums and a single ginger capsule to settle any stomach issues. Oh yeah, I had a small handful of peanut M&Ms at mile 5 and a half of a tortilla wrap at mile 13.

(Aravaipa Photo Gallery)

After topping out at mile 16 on the return to Mesquite aid station, the course gradually descends for 6 miles providing excellent single-track running. Through here I struck up a conversation with Andrew Heard. We both shared our positive experience with the Rapa Nui Hoka shoes. It seems we both found some form of nirvana with the Hokas. After the aid station at mile 22 the next four miles of trail undulates through Willow Canyon. I was amazed by the beauty of multitudes of wild flowers and classic Sonoran Desert vegetation in all of its spring greenery. Then all of a sudden the real adventure began – Ford Canyon.

“Fear the Ford,” I had heard many say before the race. “It gets hot in there.” Ford Canyon is 2.5 miles of gradually descending wash and boulders. It reminded me of hiking through a riverbed and getting to places that you have to backtrack in order to find better passage. Except on Ford Canyon the trail keeps going. I managed to shuffle as much as possible in between climbing boulders and jumping down off of rock ledges. Through 27 miles of the course I had yet to see water until Ford Canyon. There were stagnant pools from previous rainfall. A couple of times I had to splash through pools of water getting my feet wet for the first time.

 

(Aravaipa Photo Gallery)

(Photo: Giridar Gajapathy)

 

(Aravaipa Photo Gallery)

Eventually the trail scrabbled up the side of the canyon and continued for another mile to the Ford Canyon aid station. I thought I had around 3 miles remaining but the aid station volunteers said 1.9 miles to go. This was joy to my ears. I pushed the pace into the finish and for the first time looked at the clock to see 5:19. I ended up in 9^th place overall. The first master runner had just finished one minute ago unbeknownst to me.

Overall it turned out to be a fabulous day. The trail had mostly pristine single-track with lots of runnability and an interesting diversion through Ford Canyon. I finished the run feeling great physically, no cramps, nausea, or overheating. Unfortunately I still needed to drive 173 miles home.

Aravaipa Running really does a tremendous job organizing their races; from sign-up to the start line; course marking and aid stations; and the finish line and post-race festivities. Mesquite Canyon is definitely a race to put on your list of adventures.