Monday, April 27, 2015

Race Report: 2015 Joanie Bumpus Daffodil 10k

"You go ahead, I'm not going to race it in," Rose said as I began my finishing kick. I could see Western Gateway Park and the finish line of the 2015 Daffodil Run. I had sat on Rose's hip for the duration of the race, as my Garmin had died during the Hotshot Half Marathon the day before. I latched onto her as we passed the first mile split (8:45) and we enjoyed talking about everything from her upcoming Boston Marathon to poison oak remedies.

My legs were weary from the previous day's effort. I ignored the discomfort, shooting for a nice negative split over the out and back course. Makie "Hula Girl" Ohler came back at us, leading the race with young Devon in her pocket. She said afterwards that he tried to back off a few times but she kept him honest, beating him by less than a minute in the end.

Rose and I kept edging the pace up, hitting an 8:15 mile on the home stretch. As we crested the last small hill, she told me to go ahead. I set my sights on a guy who looked like he might be in my age group and reeled him in as I entered the park. About 150 yards from the finish, I hear spectators cheering Rose in as she sprinted to catch me, nipping me at the line by 0.2 seconds. That's the last time I fall for that trick, Rose!

54:20 was a good effort for a rest week with back to back races; I stuck around for the awards because the age group listings had me in third, but they were wrong. I was fourth. Which is fine, I don't need any more medals, just miles ;)

The Gold Country Grand Prix is off to a great start in 2015. I highly recommend you visit the foothills and take in a race this summer.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Race Report: 2015 Hotshot Half Marathon

The Inaugural Hotshot Half Marathon was held at Bullards Bar Reservoir near Camptonville earlier this month. I was able to squeeze it in as a training run a week after American River 50 Mile. The race benefits the Wildlands Firefighters Association and is dedicated in memory of Mike Kelly, a Tahoe Hotshot and Smoke-jumper who was killed when struck by a car in November 2013.

I was excited to run this course; rolling single-track for most of its length, with somewhere north of 2000 feet of gain. Rumor had it that the course was a bit longer than 13.1, which worked well for my training plans for the weekend.

I was surprised to see Bay Area runners Christy and Erica in the parking lot before the race. There was little to no advertising West of the foothills. Turns out Erica had heard about it from someone in Cool, and she was stoked that the results would not be on! I recognized many local runners amongst the throng of firefighters lining up at the start. 

I knew the first three quarters of a mile were downhill on a fire road, and that the next 12 miles would be single track or double track trail. So, I went out fast trying to secure a spot near the front of the conga line. The plan worked pretty well; I passed a few people after hitting the trail and settled in at the front of a group. After three miles, I could tell I was running too fast. My legs painfully reminded me about the fifty miles I had run the previous Saturday. I dialed it back a little bit, and the conga line began cruising by me.

By the time I reached the first aid station, I was in need of a pit stop. Fortunately, the course ran right past an outhouse, which I availed myself of for a couple of minutes. I rejoined the conga line and held onto my spot for the next few miles. My Garmin died somewhere in these miles, and the rest of the race I ran on feel. It was quite freeing to be without the data. Not something I would choose to do.


Around the midway point, the course climbs "7-ball trail". I had heard it gained about 800 feet in one mile, but it ended up being really runnable. Another aid station at the top offered fruit and candy, which I enjoyed before beginning the return trip along the ridge above the lake. The next few miles were wonderful downhill running on easy double track. A few runners passed me looking strong, but for the most part I felt like I was holding my own.

By the time the course rejoined the lake-level trail, I was running low on energy. The last three miles seemed to go on forever. Finally, with three quarters of a mile left, the single track gave way to the fire road and one more big climb to the finish. I ran/walked until I could hear the finish line, and ran it in the rest of the way for a 2:23:59 finish (103/226).

The finish line festival had a small town feel. Loaded baked potatoes and chili were available, along with ice cold water, Gatorade and coconut waters. I hung out for an hour or so, cheering in friends and taking an informal poll of those with GPS watches. Most reported somewhere between 1600 and 2600 feet of gain over 13-14.5 miles. 

Bay Area representing, Christy, me and Erica (photo courtesy of Erica Teicheira)


The race was well organized and executed. The spectators were effusive, filling each campground we ran through. I hope they continue this event, as it benefits a great organization and recognizes the important role wild land firefighters play in our community.


Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Race Report: 2015 American River 50 Mile Endurance Run
I squatted near a tree at mile 45 of the 2015 American River 50 Mile Endurance Run, trying to expedite an emergency pit stop. I turned to my right and realized there was a Poison Oak bush hunkered next to the tree. Now, I have never had any symptoms of Poison Oak exposure, and as a result do not look for it before I, well, leap, so-to-speak. I didn't think I had touched it, but my arrival next to this tree had been somewhat rushed, given the circumstances, and I couldn't be sure. I did not have too much time to reflect, as I was chasing my 50 mile PR. I finished my business and got back on course, focusing on the final five miles ahead.

After last year's successful execution at Lake Sonoma, I wanted to go back to Healdsburg. Alas, the lottery gods only had enough energy to gift me Western States and Miwok this year. I had not run the new American River 50 Mile course yet. While it lacks the vertical I need as States training, it does offer an opportunity to practice leg turnover and sustained running. It feels like a really, really long marathon.
AR50 Course Map
AR50 Elevation Profile

My training in the previous weeks had been lukewarm. Twirly's birthday party the weekend prior ate into my volume, enhancing the taper. I had hoped to have more speed work under my belt, but it was all I could do to eek out two long runs of 20 and 26 miles after the Marin Ultra Challenge 50k. I hung my hopes on the fact that I was healthy and without serious niggles standing on the start line.

Taking a lesson from my experience in Marin, my strategy was to go out at nine-hour pace (10:49/mile) and try to negative split the race. Usually this is a great strategy, but the AR50 course has the technical trail and the bulk of the elevation gain coming in the latter half of the race. My "A" goal was to break nine hours, followed by my "B" goal of breaking my personal record of 9:49. As always, my "C" goal was to finish. As in 2013, I would go without lights. The crowd is thick enough in the early miles, a pool of light was never far away.

We stayed at the Larkspur Landing Folsom. Super easy. I had a suite for a hundred bucks and they gave us warm chocolate chip cookies at check-in. I caught the shuttle in the parking lot at 4:15 am. I sat in the back, hoping to see some of the lunar eclipse that was coinciding with the race start. I forgot how bouncy the back of the school bus can be. I balanced my tea while protecting my pack and bottles from the blast heater at my feet. Twenty five minutes later we arrived at the race start.

I much prefer the new course to the old, especially at the start. Gone are the days of crowding onto a levee bike path and running a two mile out and back to start the event. The parking lot at the Browns Ravine Marina was stellar in comparison. I braved the chilly breeze to watch the eclipse, which happened to be the shortest eclipse of this century. Five minutes! The parking lot was invisible. The phone lit faces of those huddled in their cars gave some depth, but I found it difficult to navigate between the warming tent and the porta potties. It turns out the light of a Garmin 910xt works in a pinch.

The warming tent buzzed with the nervous noise of hundreds and the parking lot began to swell with people. David found me standing in the lee of the tent just as the full eclipse was happening. He planned to go out quick to get some running room and settle in after he warmed up. He would go on to have a great day. I saw many other familiar faces in the crowd but focused internally as the clock wound down.
The race starts near the lake and climbs for about a mile before turning onto single track trail. I kept my effort easy and settled into the conga line, sticking near those with head lamps lighting the way. The waning eclipse hung over the steel grey lake surface, and the birds began signaling the impending dawn. At mile 5 a clover-leaf series of loops at Folsom Point provided a good look at those in front and behind me, and offered a few little hills to get the blood pumping.

Historic Walker Bridge (source)

Rucky, my 28 hour Cougar
By mile 6 I knew I had gone out about a minute per mile too fast. I felt great. The single track gave way to surface streets and sidewalk running for a few miles. I reigned in my effort and reminded myself to stay loose and relaxed. My nutrition was going well, and no niggles were speaking up. After crossing the American River near Folsom Dam the course joined the American River Parkway. A fellow runner began chatting me up about States, a common occurrence since the addition of "Rucky" to my left calf. Amidst the banter my pace crept below 9-minutes per mile. I kept trying to figure a way out of the conversation, as this guy was running faster than my plan. On the other hand, talking about States is a worthy distraction and reminds me of my goals for the season. We encountered a group containing some people he knew, and while he chatted them up, I drifted off the back, resuming my planned pace.

The circumnavigation of Lake Natomas on rolling bike path was meditative. The path is surrounded by piles of river rock, likely the remnants of gold prospectors dredging the river for a pay day. After crossing back to the North side of the river, the Hazel Bluffs provided another blood-pumping climb, albeit a short one. The trail felt more familiar now that we had rejoined the old course, and Mr. Mojo was in residence at the summit of the Bluff.

Nearing the 20 mile mark and the first time I would see Twirly, I took stock of my condition. My right hamstring was tight, but my gait was still symmetrical. My energy was good. I rolled into the Negro Bar Aid Station about 12 minutes ahead of my planned split and found Twirly. I dropped my pack and picked up two bottles of Tailwind, swapped my hat for a visor and popped a Vitamin I for good measure. I have been trying to avoid using it for runs less than 100k, but it felt like an appropriate action to mitigate my hamstring.

A few miles later, the Ibuprofen had kicked in and I fell into a nice rhythm. The trail wound up and down along the shore of Lake Natomas. I passed a few runners here and there and kept my pace fast enough not to get passed. The weather was heating up; I began craving ice water. These middle miles clicked by comfortably, but my hamstring was speaking up by the time I saw Twirly again at mile 29.

The Granite Bay Aid Station had buckets of ice water. I drank cup after cup while Twirly got ice in my replacement Tailwind bottles, and fellow hasher "Zucchini Bareback" provided some Motrin ointment to my hamstring. She was crewing for "Pussy Whisperer", who was running his first 50 miler.

I left the aid station feeling pretty good. A mile later I was back in the groove. The new course has a 2.5 mile loop on some pretty single track. I began picking up some carnage on the approach to the Meatgrinder section. These were my best miles of the race. I tackled the technical Meatgrinder section with determination. I would catch a conga line picking their way through the relentless rollers and do my best Kilian impersonation to pass them, using rocks and berms along the edges of the trail to leap around them. It took more energy than I should have spent, but it allowed me to continue at my own pace.

Rattlesnake Bar, photo by Jenny Lindberg
I got to Rattlesnake Bar in okay shape, but now about 15 minutes behind 9 hour pace. My feet felt confined in my Hoka Conquests, so I swapped shoes and socks. Hashers Bubble Boy and Edamame had joined Twirly and ZB. In the commotion one of my bottle tops fell into a patch of poison oak. While the crew was sorting that out, I took the MAP replacement baggie Twirly had handed me and put it into the bottle I was holding. Unfortunately, that bottle was empty and would exchanged for a fresh one. I got another application of pain relieving gel, and fueled up with some orange slices and potato. One of the volunteers told me that this was the last aid station to offer food. I had heard a similar falsehood in 2013 at Dowdins Post and told the volunteer I thought he was wrong. He argued that was the information he had, and we left it at that. I find it strange that this rumor about no food in the final miles persists, even though it has no truth.

The final 15k was a push. I missed having the MAP. I ran most of the rises in the rolling trail, and continued picking up some carnage. A few miles out of Rattlesnake Bar I felt a familiar rumbling in my gut, accompanied by gas pains. I began scouting the foliage for suitable leafy greens to facilitate a pit stop, but found none. Upon reaching Dowdins Post (they had plenty of food there) I asked if anyone had handi-wipes. I was in luck, as a volunteer provided me a couple from her personal stash. About a mile later, I found myself getting close and personal with the Poison Oak bush.

Folsom Lake is still pretty low from the epic drought we are mired in, and I figured that the riffles of the American River would begin to show sooner as a result. I knew from 2013 that the final three miles to the finish climbed out of the river canyon just above the lake, and the whitewater is a good landmark. Every time the trail rounded a bend I would expect to see the riffles; time slowed. Finally, the Auburn Dam excavation came into view and I could smell the barn.

I had about 45 minutes to climb three miles and beat my PR of 9:49. I put on my best power hike for the steep ascent from river level, and ran whenever my heart rate dipped into zone 2. By the time I hit Last Gasp Aid Station I knew I had a PR in the bag. I had the station runner fill my bottle with ice water and ran through without stopping (they had food at this station too). I jockeyed with a "bro-team" for a while, both runner and pacer wearing identical kits, haircuts and beards. The runner was negotiating run/walk breaks with his pacer, which I found hilarious.

I shuffled up the final mile and into the finish line festival, ten minutes ahead of my PR (9:38). I felt pretty good as I collected my finishers jacket and swag bag. Twirly and David greeted me at the end of the chute. He finished in 8:2x! I signed up for a Monster Massage, got my grub and started re-hydrating.

The take home lesson from this race? I still go out too fast. I may not have been able to execute the negative split, given the trail and elevation in the later miles, but  my hamstring may have been in better shape. After my massage (I finally got one from the master, Ve Loyce), I felt a little stiff, but no significant niggles screamed at me. I had experienced some pain at the base of my neck, which has happened in the past. I think it is residual stress. I just need to relax my shoulders more.

Jesse Jay, Twirly and yours truly at the finish festival
As always, Julie Fingar and the rest of the NorCal Ultra team put on a stellar event. The hundreds of volunteers do a great job catering to the runners. Despite the red herrings that seem to have taken up permanent residence at the final few aid stations, the run is supported well. The new course is an improvement, in that it has more trail and less exposure in the early miles. I could do without the long, pavement pounding descent to Folsom Dam, but it is still much better than the half marathon of bike path they removed. I'll probably do it again. I have my sights set on that 9 hour mark. Besides, the jackets are cool ;)

I did end up with an itchy ass, by the way. It could have been worse! I set my sights on Miwok 100k as my next training race. The stakes are getting higher as the 2015 Western States 100 approaches. I am beginning to realize that a silver buckle will be... uncomfortable to attain.

Here are the deets from my race:

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Race, Rest, Repeat Redux

Recovery from American River 50 Mile goes well. Hamstrings are still sore, and I picked up a little poison oak as a keepsake. I have never been bothered by it before. Hopefully it doesn't develop into an ongoing concern. I had enjoyed my immunity; it allowed me to not care that it is everywhere I want to train.

My adapted ketogenic diet continues to perform. My energy levels at AR50 were steady, and my body fat% continues to decrease:

Wednesday Weigh in, April 8th:
  • Weight: 184.2 (-3.5 lbs)
  • Body fat%: 16.09 (-0.62)
  • Ketone level: 0.5 mm
I plan to continue the same routine through the next couple of weeks. I am considering using Vespa at Miwok 100k, but I want to be in optimal ketosis (1.5-3.0 mm) to take full advantage of the Optimized Fat Metabolism approach. I am finding it difficult to get 200 calories of Tailwind down every hour, and if I can lower my hourly requirement, I think I'll have my nutritional plans for States ironed out.

Short update today. I am working on the AR50 race report. Stay tuned!