Tag Archives: 50k

50k Birthday in San Francisco

Posted on by

Ever since I ran my marathon birthday – 26.2 miles on my 26.2th birthday – a few years ago, I’ve been running my age in miles for every birthday. Most recently, I turned 31, so I ran 31 miles around San Francisco.

Highlights this year:

  • Ran the whole thing without looking at a map – it was cool to be able to get around my city
  • Got to see some of my favorite parts of the city (Ferry Building, AT&T Park, , Dogpatch, Golden Gate Park, Ocean Beach, Cliff House, GG Bridge, Embarcadero)
  • Visited a new (to me) place – the Labyrinth at Land’s End
  • Ran despite the rain (which was pretty aggressive!)

 

Image may contain: 3 people, including Lisa Donchak, people smiling

Collage from the day. Top: me finishing at the Exploratorium, the Strava results of my run. Bottom: At the Labyrinth, at GG Bridge, another finishing photo.

Here’s a link to the Strava if you’re into that kind of thing

Previous Birthday Miles:

Golden Gate 50K (and a little extra) – Race #4 of 2019

Posted on by

Last weekend was the Golden Gate 50k, with my favorite Coastal Trail Runs. I ran it with my friend Ingrid, who you may remember from Lake Chabot last year (where we tied for third!). We decided to run this race together – she is currently training for a 100-mile race, and I was recovering from my Surf City Marathon six days earlier, so neither of us were planning to go fast for this race (which ended up being a good thing, since it was a hard course!).

The course consisted of a half-marathon loop, which we did twice. On the first loop, we would add on another, smaller loop for an extra 4.9 miles, which theoretically would bring a total of 31 miles (or 50k). It has about 7,000 feet of climbing.

Lap 1

Climbing up the first hill – we are so happy!

The first lap was good – we started slow up the first major hill, then descended into Tennessee Valley before starting on the 4.9 mile loop. This 4.9 miles was probably the most beautiful part of the course – running south on single-track trail along the cliffs, overlooking the ocean. The light was beautiful as well, with the rain clouds holding their distance and the sun streaming through them.

We hit the Tennessee Valley aid station again at the end of our 4.9 mile loop, then started up the second major climb – a slow ascent of about 1.5-2 miles, which we mostly walked.

The weather in NorCal had been pretty bad the last few weeks – lots of rain. I was optimistically banking on having a brief respite during this race. Which we did, for the first three hours or so. It was around this time that it started hailing. Hail hurts on skin, I learned, but sounds cool on hats.

We reached an intersection at some point on this loop – a fairly significant decision juncture, we’d learn later. It was super clearly marked to go to the left. This surprised Ingrid, who has run these trails a bunch of times – most of the races she’s done have gone to the right at this intersection. So, without even thinking about it, she had veered off to the right. We paused for a moment and looked at the markings together, and decided left was correct – and another runner behind us agreed, so we headed left.

The trail to the left took us down to a road, then up that road a ways (if you’re familiar with SF, it’s the road you’d take to get to Hawk Hill). The course was really well marked the whole way along this stretch, and all other runners had taken this same route. When we got to a roundabout (by Slacker Hill), we crossed the street, hit the aid station, and ran back down to finish off the loop. So far, so good.

As we hit another road, the course took two not-super-fun side trips up steep, very muddy trails to the left. There was … a lot of mud. Going down these hills felt almost more like skiing than like running. We took it slow.

 

Coming down these muddy hills was no joke!

Runners who were just finishing shorter distances (e.g. 30k) were pretty grumpy about this side trip, and kept saying “just one mile to go!” I knew that, from where we were on the trail, they definitely more than just one mile – maybe like 2.5 or 3 more. However, there’s a lot of sensitivity in ultras around talking about distances. While racing, thinking about distances is such a psychological game – one that people approach very differently. Giving wrong information (or right information at the wrong time) can be very demoralizing for a runner. So, I didn’t correct them.

End of the first lap

As we passed by Ingrid’s car, I picked up my rain jacket. This is the second time ever I needed my rain jacket during a race (the first being this awesome race in Philly). It was pretty cold, and still raining intermittently, so I was glad to have it on the second lap. I was also glad to have an aid station attendant just up ahead, as my fingers were to cold to operate the zipper. Thanks, aid station guy!

Lap 2

We climbed up the first hill again, then down into Tennessee Valley. The folks at the aid station made a very jokingly-serious attempt to get us to head out on the 4.9-mile loop (not required for the second lap), and we jokingly considered doing it.

It was raining on and off for pretty much the rest of the race, at this point.

Up the second big hill, then along the ridge again. Then we got to that turnoff that had caused us to pause last time around – remember the one, where we all went left? This time, it was clearly marked to the right. Like, no ambiguity here – go to the right.

So we shrugged and headed to the right, coming up to that next aid station much more quickly than on the first lap.

Ingrid had a GPS watch and was kind of looking at it periodically, but not saying anything. Remember how knowing distance is a bit of a psychological game? We have an agreement that she doesn’t tell me the total distance we’ve run – I don’t like to know during ultras, usually, since the hills just throw off the pacing, which makes thinking about the total distance very depressing at times. She finally said, laughingly, that she wouldn’t tell me the distance – but we were definitely going to be doing a little extra today.

We headed up the two little hills on our way to the finish. During this stretch, we saw a little rainbow – a bit of recompense for the not-great weather that this day had provided.

We finished the race in just under 7 hours – definitely towards the slower end for both of us, but right in the middle of the pack for this race. It was a hard day on a hard course.

We done and we cold!

Afterwards

We immediately headed to the car and pumped the heat up as high as possible. Neither of us could really feel our extremities, so we sat in the car and held our hands to the vents for a few minutes before heading out.

Ingrid uploaded her watch data to Garmin, and you can see it here. I’ll give you a preview, though – this was not a 31 mile race. We ended up running 33 and some change.

Remember that left vs right intersection? My theory is that they mismarked the course at this point. See below for the route that we ran (and you can see on her Garmin). The first lap is a takes this detour, adding … just about two miles.

Just to be clear, Ingrid and I are pretty great at following trail markings – this was not a case of runners misreading the signs. We both have run a lot of races and did not misinterpret the course markings. Also, all the other runners went this way, too! So this is a mystery that may forever remain unsolved.

You can see the different routes – specifically, on Lap 1, we definitely ran an extra two miles.

 

We wrapped up the day with some sweet, sweet, post-race Mexican food at Tacko in San Francisco (where Cyndi took me after we ran New Year’s One Day!)

This wraps up my early 2019 racing season – four races this year so far. It’s been a lot of work, but I feel like I’m in really good shape, and running faster than ever. My target race is still about 7 months away, so as long as I stay injury free, there’s a lot of opportunity to get even faster.

As a reminder, I’m also an ambassador for the San Francisco Marathon (Sunday, June 28). I’ll be running the ultra again, which I really enjoyed three years ago. I also have a discount code for the race (all distances!) so let me know if you’re planning to sign up and I can share it!

Burning Man 50k (Or: A Run Around the Desert)

Posted on by

Burning Man is a 70,000-person hippy gathering in the desert of Nevada, in summer. There’s cool art, funky music, and fun activities to do. It’s a bastion of hippy values: love, sharing, and friendliness. Most of all, it’s summer camp for adults – where you have no plans and no obligations, other than to have fun. So basically, you get to do whatever you want.

For me, doing whatever I want often means … running.

Background and Course Info

I’d heard about the Burning Man 50k a few years ago. For a variety of reasons and despite having tickets, I hadn’t gotten around to actually going to Burning Man. So when Cyndi, my friend and colleague, mentioned she was going to Burning Man for the first time this year and invited me along, I couldn’t say no. Later, she also mentioned she was going to run the 50k, and I knew I’d found the right group to camp with.

The Burning Man 50k course goes through some of the major landmarks of the city, which is laid out a bit like a clock (see below). The course starts somewhere near the middle of the city, heads out to the perimeter, goes about a quarter of the way around the edge, then comes back in. It’s about four laps of running, plus a little bit at the end, to get to the full 50k. The course is flat (it’s a desert). The race itself starts early – around 5:30am – to avoid the desert heat. Dust storms are a very real consideration, so appropriate apparel, such as dust masks and goggles, are required.

This is a map of the course. You run the pink dotted line four times, then a little bit more, going clockwise. Pink Lightning is the name of the camp that organized the race. It’s also where the race starts and finishes.

 

A few things surprised me (in a good way!) about how the race was organized:

  • There’s no registration fee. That’s because everything at Burning Man is “gifted” – e.g. created by another participant and then shared, with no exchange of money, goods, or services
  • It’s chip-timed, which is really impressive for a race that’s so far out in the desert and affiliated with a bigger event
  • There’s even swag: T-shirts, finisher medals, and start medals
  • It’s BYO aid-station – all participants were asked to bring some aid station snacks to donate, as well as 1-2 gallons of water each. We brought some salty crunchy snacks (I can’t remember exactly what). We also made a little aid station box for our camp, which consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, peanut butter and nutella sandwiches, and peanut butter and honey sandwiches. You might be picking up on a theme here.

The Start Line

The race was supposed to start at 5am, so we headed over to the start line around 4:30am. Most Burning Man activity happens at night, so as we were waking up to get ready for the race, it felt like the city was still in full-on party mode. About a hundred runners were at the start (it felt like more), and it was clear some of them hadn’t actually gone to sleep the day before. They’d just rolled right up after staying out all night.

Almost all runners were in some kind of costume. Most costumes included illumination of some sort, such as LED-encrusted headgear, or jackets lined with electroluminescent wiring. These light-up clothes serve a dual purpose: they both look cool, and make sure people can see you at night. Lots of folks wore tutus, capes, or headgear. One woman had a mirrored disco-ball sports bra!

We said hi to a few folks – there were one or two other people I knew who were running as well – and stashed our camp’s aid station out of the way of the hoards.

For reasons that remain unclear to me, the race didn’t actually start until 5:30am. That said, this is pretty typical of Burning Man – things start late, or not at all. Timing is pretty flexible.

After a brief group photo, we lined up at the start, and the race began.

 

Two other folks from my camp, Alex and Cyndi, also ran this race – it was their first 50k! We wore matching unicorn headbands.

I made this cape a lot of years ago for the relay race around Lake Tahoe! It made a comeback for this costumed event

Image may contain: 1 person, crowd

All the runners at the stat line

Before Sunrise

Cyndi, Alex, and I had planned to run a few miles at the start together, but it became very quickly apparent that they wanted to set a much faster pace than I wanted to. I also didn’t want to push my pace too much to start, since I’d been rehabbing an ankle injury (posterior tibial tendinitis – it’s healed now, but it was a long road this year). So they took off within the first few minutes and I settled into my pace.

For the first mile and a half or so, we ran along the Esplanade – the innermost ring of the city. Along this road, there were lots and lots of non-running revelers in various stages of intoxication, all wearing lit-up clothing. Once they figured out what we were doing, they cheered us on, with calls of “You’re crazy!” ‘Here, have a shot of vodka!” and “F*ck your burn!” (Which is actually a nice thing to say, even though it doesn’t sound like it). The atmosphere was very much charged with energy.

We turned left at the end of Esplanade to the 10’o’clock branch of the city. We ran by the ill-fated and now notorious 747 airplane – the first of four times we would pass it that day – around which a party was still commencing.

Then we headed out into the desert.

The desert of Burning Man – away from the center of civilization – is called the Deep Playa. It has this mysticism about it, as if it takes a monumental journey to get there. In reality, it’s just a short walk – maybe 10-15 minutes – away from the main camp areas – but it does have a weird, isolated vibe. The desert is an empty place, and you realize it as soon as you leave the bustle of center camp behind. There’s nothing out there.

That said, we runners could still hear the thumping music from the fleets of art cars crawling about the Playa, and we could still see the laser lights cutting through the persistent cloud of dust over the festival. We were still part of the party, even as we ran away from it.

The course turned to the right at the trash fence – an orange, plastic perimeter constructed to keep festival trash from blowing into the desert. You can see it in a few pictures below.

At about four miles in, or halfway through the lap, we hit an aid station. I didn’t stop, but it was great to see the volunteers, including two of my good friends, Natalie and Mikaela! You can see their photo below – they were the most enthusiastic cheerleaders, and it was so awesome to see them.

Image may contain: one or more people, sky, ocean, outdoor and nature

My friends Natalie and Mikaela happened to be at the trash fence aid station – here they are in a white hoodie and black dress, respectively. It was so awesome to see them out there!

 

The next four miles are a mirror image of the first – continue along the trash fence, turn right at the gate, then back to camp. This stretch was our first introduction to the non-official aid stations, which consisted of folks who just randomly set up aid stations to offer things to runners. These offerings were diverse, and included the obvious – like water and oranges – and the less obvious – like pigs in blankets and rum.

At the end of the lap, we passed through Pink Lightning’s camp and crossed the timing mat.

The second lap was gorgeous, and when the sun rose. Seeing the sun rise at Burning Man is a bit of a rite of passage, usually because it means that you’ve stayed up all night to see it. In this case, we got to see it coming up as we were running. It was beautiful, and ethereal to be running in the desert as the sun rose.

Image may contain: one or more people, sky, ocean, twilight, outdoor, nature and water

Someone running as the sun is coming up. One of the most beautiful photos from this day.

After Sunrise – the Middle Miles

I fell into step with a couple of guys, including one – named Natron (real name) – who was wearing some crazy bouncy shoes. The shoes had some complex spring contraption on the bottom, which gave Natron a literal bounce to his step (as well as a little squeaky noise). He was already tall, and this added a few more inches to his height. He told us he was trying to set a Guinness world record for “Fastest Marathon in Bouncy Shoes,” but Guinness kept telling him that bouncy shoes aren’t a universally accessible piece of gear, so they wouldn’t take it.

I ran with him for a few miles before we caught up to Cyndi and Alex.

Lisa, Natron, Alex, and Cyndi running in the desert (thanks John for the photo! You can read his race report here)

 

Running along the trash fence in the morning with some new friends

Probably my favorite runner costume: two guys dressed in checkered shirts and pants carrying a banner that said “finish.” They ran all the loops in reverse, so I got to “cross the finish line” about eight times! I loved seeing these guys, even if it never meant I was actually finishing.

Not the finish line

 

In terms of food, since that’s a common question – I didn’t partake of any of the race-organized aid stations, and I also didn’t partake of any of the non-race-organized aid stations. I carried a handheld water bottle, which I filled up every loop or so at our camp’s aid station, and I ate the PB&H we had prepared as well. I made this decision for a few reasons: First, the race-organized aid station food wasn’t laid out in a way that made it easy to grab, so the little bit of added friction made me less interested in trying to figure it out. Second, the non-race-organized aid stations … well, it’s Burning Man. You don’t always know exactly what you’re gonna get from strangers, no matter how well-meaning they are.

A non-race-organized aid station. I think these guys were pretty innocuous - handing out coconut water.

One of the more benign non-sanctioned aid stations. I think they were just offering coconut water.

Image may contain: sky, mountain, outdoor and nature

One of the race gates at the trash fence. We would turn right at this one to continue along the course.

The after-sunrise vibe is a little different on the Playa. Revelers start going to bed, so it quiets down quite a bit. The early risers wake up, and they tend to be a more peaceful, thoughtful bunch. They were more genuinely curious about what we were doing, and asked us questions (as much as possible when you’re running by) about the race, rather than shouting encouragement. We also saw a lot of folks doing morning yoga.

The Last Few Miles

After the fourth lap, we had to do another short out-and-back to round us out to the full 50k distance. I had held a pretty consistent pace so far, and it had felt pretty good. I was happy about this, as I was just coming back from that injury and hadn’t been doing a lot of running.

As I passed the timing mat, I heard a guy on the sidelines asking if anyone wanted a pacer for a bit. I said sure – one of my goals for the week at Burning Man was to say “Yes” to people offering gifts, and this was an opportunity to do that! So this guy and I ran the last little bit together. He was a super nice guy – lots of ultrarunning experience – and I think it was his first time at Burning Man as well. I think he was disappointed I wasn’t doing more miles before finishing, but I was very happy to have the company. (When I finished the race, he found another runner who still had another lap and went off with her – what a cool guy!)

The Finish Line

I crossed the finish line with a time of around 5:40 / 5:45. Slow for me, but great for not having run any meaningful distance for a few months, and my ankle didn’t hurt! Cyndi and Alex came in about twenty minutes later, and it was so awesome to see them cross the finish line of their first 50k together. Our camp mate Cliff came to cheer us on at the finish, too.

Hanging at the finish line. Love these guys.

We gifted our remaining camp sandwiches to a runner who was just about to leave on her fourth lap – she hadn’t eaten anything for the first 22 miles of the race (!) so we were happy to share.

We headed back to camp, took the Burning Man equivalent of shower (e.g., leveraging lots and lots of wet wipes), and had some breakfast. I think the other two took a nap – I got on my bike and went out exploring.

Afterwards

I took the rest of the week off from running, because I was still pretty skittish about further injuring my ankle. Posterior tibial tendinitis isn’t a joke, and can turn into a permanent injury if not treated. I was still pretty nervous about it.  Honestly, taking that week off may have been what got me over the hump in terms of recovery. The ankle felt much, much better when I got back to the real world.

I am so glad to have gotten a chance to run this race. I was happy and smiling the entire race, for probably a few reasons.

  • I hadn’t run for a long time, and it felt so good to get back out there, even if I was going slow.
  • I’d been wanting to run this race for a number of years, and finally getting to do it was a real treat.
  • The scenery and the environment were completely amazing. The desert is an incredible place, and getting to see the art and people of Burning Man in this way was very special
  • I got to run with two of my favorite people – Alex and Cyndi – and they were running their very first 50k! I love running with new ultrarunners.

In terms of the race itself – the winning woman ran an average of 8:09 minute pace or so for the entire race.  You may remember that, just a few months earlier, I ran my fastest marathon ever, averaging … 8:07s. So, I’ll just leave that there. All I’ll say is … my tendinitis is healed. I’ll be back in Black Rock City next year, and I’ll definitely be running again.

 

—-

Make sure to read John’s race report – I ran a bunch of miles with him!

Some photos in this post courtesy of Samuel-Christophe Tedjasukmana

Lake Chabot 50k – new PR!

Posted on by

The start of the race -feeling good

A few weeks ago I ran a race at Lake Chabot (thanks again Inside Trail!). I’ve run in this area a few times before – once in 2016, and once in 2012.

If you check out the results page … I came in 3rd! But even better … I set a personal record for the 50k distance!!! This 50k is the fastest one I’ve ever run in my life, and the fastest since 2012 … which is crazy, and also pretty exciting because:

  • This is the last race of my 20s (turning 30 this weekend)
  • I’m getting faster even as I’m getting older
  • I could maybe run even faster in the future!

Here’s how it went down –

The day dawned crisp and clear – as is usual for the East Bay of California. I’d signed up for the race just a few days earlier, on Wednesday of that week, because it felt like a good time to run a race (sometimes your body just tells you).

The course is an 18 mile loop followed by a 13 mile loop. The 13 mile is a shortened version of the previous loop, so there would be some sections of the course, including a substantial out-and-back, that we’d see four times. I typically do well in races with longer out-and-backs, because I can see the field of runners, and also know what sort of terrain is coming on the way back.

At some point just before the start, I realized that I’d forgotten my GPS watch.  This was a little disconcerting, but there wasn’t much to do for it at this point. I’d also recently read an article that sometimes anchoring consistently on pace or time can actually slow runners down, so I tried to focus on that.

The first loop was pretty uneventful. I spent a lot of time worrying about the runners in the 18-mile race, who would sprint past us at what seemed like breakneck speed. However, I also knew there were plenty of 50k runners ahead of me and I wasn’t really competitive, so at some point, I just settled in. The first big climb was several miles, and I’m pretty slow on the uphills anyway, so a lot of other runners drifted by me.

Around mile 7 or 8 the course has a pretty long downhill, and that’s where I felt the energy kick in. I flew down the hill, passing a lot of folks who had previously been ahead of me. I was in a pretty fantastic mood too – the scenery was gorgeous, with rolling green hills lush from rain and beautiful blue sky.

After an aid station, maybe around mile 11-12, I caught up temporarily with another runner. She was a badass – training for a 100-mile race – and somehow was just cruising up these hills. She basically had one running speed, and it was inexorable. At some point (maybe after about a mile) I had to let her go – I couldn’t keep up with her hills.

However, I still knew I was running pretty quickly and I felt pretty good. There was one point during this race where I felt so much energy, happiness, and excitement – like my heart would just burst with it – I’ve never felt that while running before. It wasn’t runners high (I’m honestly not sure what that is, but this wasn’t it) – but it was so much energy that I just didn’t know what to do with it. So I did the only thing that made sense – translate it into speed.

Another hill crest, then heading down to the end of the first lap. Miles 16-18, as we headed into the turnaround, were very flat, along the lake. This is where I knew I’d see other runners on the return, and I could figure out how far ahead of me they would be.

I saw the woman in first place about 3-4 miles ahead of me, and that was pretty disheartening. There was no way in this universe I could ever catch her – she was probably 30 minutes ahead of me. The next woman, in 2nd place, was maybe about a 1.5-2 miles ahead of me, and at that point I was pretty sure there was no way I’d place in this race.

However, for the next mile or so I didn’t see anyone – and then I saw the turnaround aid station up ahead! There were two runners just coming out of it – one was a younger woman running in 3rd, and the other was the woman I’d been running with earlier, running in 4th!

I quickly refueled and caught up to the 4th place runner – I learned her name was Ingrid. We passed the runner in 3rd place, and I started thinking about the next half-marathon of running.

Ingrid kept trying to tell me that this was “just a training run” for her so she wasn’t trying to push it, but she was a literal speed demon. She was blasting up hills and powering down the other side, and she was taking no prisoners at aid stations.  As I struggled to keep up with her, we headed into our first hill together, I was sure I’d fall back, because she was still running these hills (vs speed-walking, which is my normal approach). I settled for a run/walk combination, which translated into me running the hill as long as I could to keep up with her, then walking with long strides to not fall behind, then feeling like I was falling behind, then trying to sprint up the hill to catch her, then repeating this process.

There’s something very cool about knowing how far you can push your body, and even though I was moving up these hills faster than was strictly comfortable, I could tell I wasn’t overdoing it. I was uncomfortable, but still within the range that of not exhausting myself. So I kept following Ingrid up these insane hills.

At one point, I was sort of curious about our pace / projected finish time. I almost asked Ingrid to tell me, but then told her not to share it. I didn’t want to influence or jinx the next few miles.

Anyway, Ingrid and I stayed together for the whole second loop of the race. The last few miles we ran side by side the whole way, and we really picked it up towards the finish, flying the last flat two miles.

When I saw the finish line, the first thing I saw was the timer. We crossed the finish line at 5:19 – a full 8 minutes faster than my previous PR.

Just crossing the finish line

Ingrid and crossed the finish line together. It was really motivating to have been able to run with such a fun running buddy for the last loop. I’m 99% sure the reason for my PR was due to time made up on the hills, and that was completely due to Ingrid’s pace.

Ingrid and I sharing a trophy

Anyway, Ingrid and I exchanged phone numbers, and we’re going to do a long run together next weekend.

The trophy pre-slicing

Also, while I believe she and I tied for 3rd place, the timer indicated I finished one second ahead of her. So I had a friend cut the trophy in half (thanks Vlad!) and I sent her half of it – so now we both have half of a 3rd place trophy.

This was a great last race to run in my 20s. Looking forward to another decade of running.

 

Half a trophy

New Year’s One Day: Fresh Start Effect

Posted on by

Not bad, GG bridge. You’re looking good today.

I’ve attempted the New Year One day a few times: once in 2015 and once in 2014. In this race, which takes place on December 31st, you run around in a circle for as many miles as you can in a certain period of time. The previous two times I’ve attempted it, I took on the 24-hour version. Turns out, I’m not great at running around in circles for 24 hours, because it is boring and it gets cold.

Me running this race a few years ago

These last few months have been fairly tumultuous from a personal perspective. I’ve gotten promoted, gotten married, gotten divorced, and finished an Ironman. So, as the new year came around, I was really looking forward to a fresh start. I wanted to do some running, but maybe not 24 hours of running. I signed up for the six hour version of this race about two days before the race.

This was some of the best running I’ve ever done, and not because of any particularly fast running that I did during the race. I was happy – super happy – for pretty much the entire race.

There are a few races that are great not because they are particularly hard or easy, but because you’re in a positive state of mind when running them. For six hours, during this race, I was the most content I’d been in a long time, for all the reasons that make running great. I was running for myself, propelled by myself, relying on the skills and capabilities I had built. I got to catch up with some old friends I’d met in previous races. I got to push myself just a little outside my comfort zone. I got to see some pretty scenery. And there was nothing that could stop me. It was me and this perfect little mile of 60% asphalt and 40% dirt, with iconic views of the Golden Gate Bridge every 10 minutes. I was paying homage to my city, my running, 2017, 2018, and my own strength.

All in all, this was an extremely uneventful race. I ran fast, consistently, and happily for six hours. I ran in the opposite direction for a little bit, then ran the original way again. Then at the end, I stopped running. And I felt good the whole time. And because of that, it’s one of the races I’ll keep close to my heart for a years to come.

The new year is a turning point, and even though it’s a made-up milestone in the scheme of civilization, sometimes that’s okay. For me, this race was a return to my roots.

Bring it on, 2018.

San Francisco delivers.

 

I am $25.00 fast

 

Getting past the burnout – 2nd place at Redtail Ridge

Posted on by

This is a race report about the Redtail Ridge 50k at Lake Chabot, put on by the illustrious Inside Trail Running.

Untitled

On Saturday, at 8:05 a.m., I was sitting in a car in the parking lot of a park. My race started at 8:30. I hadn’t put on my shoes, and I hadn’t picked up my bib. I was not motivated or excited to run this race. I was feeling burnt out.

Last week, I posted a depressing call for help on a running message board. Here it is:

Hi runners,

I’m training for my 3rd 100-miler. Race is in early April. I’m running 28-30-milers almost every Saturday, plus whatever the training plan says for the other days. Between work and training for this race, I feel really burnt out – if I’m not working, I’m running, and there’s no time for anything else. I’m starting to dread my workouts [even non long-run days], and that hasn’t really happened before.

I haven’t felt this way when training for my past races, which I did primarily by running some 50s and 50ks [fun!] and then just running the race. This time around, training seems like an inescapable slog. I’m wondering if a) I’ve hit my limit of interest for the sport b) I’ve been overtraining or c) training is hard and I wasn’t doing it right before.

Help me out, guys – another four weekends of 30-mile Saturdays just seems daunting, miserable, and not worth it, but not doing the training seems like a bad option too.

Suffice to say, the last few weeks have been rough. I was tired, overwhelmed, and not excited to run. And in the car on Saturday morning, I wasn’t excited at the prospect of another run. It just seemed like so much work.

I thought about my options. I could either get out of the car and run the race. Or I could let Will run and go do literally anything else for five hours. Anything. I could go read a book or visit with friends or just wander around and explore the area. I was really grasping at any reason to not run this race.

But, ultimately, I was basically at the start line already, and I’d already paid. Two really uninspired reasons to run. So I got out of the car, picked up my bib, and started the race.

I’d run a couple of races in this park before, so the trails were familiar. The first few miles were along a lake – flat and forested, before we started a steep climb to the first aid station.

I wasn’t pushing it too hard at this point in the race. I’d gotten food poisoning on Thursday, so wasn’t sure how much energy I had in the tank. This race was also supposed to be a training run, so it was more about the miles and less about the speed. As such, I hadn’t tapered at all, and had run back-to-back ten-milers on Tuesday and Wednesday. I was moving slow, and I was okay with that, because I wasn’t motivated to run anyway.

That said, I was watching the color of the bibs around me. The 30k race had started at the same time as we had. They had green bibs instead of our yellow ones. Even though I wasn’t going for speed, I definitely looked at a racer’s bib color any time one passed me, which happened frequently, and hoped their bib was green. Runners going shorter distances should be running faster, so it doesn’t feel completely devastating when someone running a shorter distance scoots ahead. For a while, I didn’t see many yellow bibs at all, which was motivating.

After the second aid station, we ran along a rolling, wide dirt road in verdant green pastures. The trail was sloppy with mud from recent rain, made worse by the … generous … presents that grazing cows had left us along the way.

I took a quick pit-stop in the bushes and retied my shoes before the trail plunged back into the forest.

I hadn’t brought my watch on this race. Sometimes, looking at your distance during a race can be more depressing than helpful. At the beginning of the race, I felt like I had so much going against me mentally already. It didn’t seem worth it to add to the misery by knowing how many millions of miles I had left to go.

So, I’m guessing when I say it was somewhere around mile 10 when I picked up the pace a bit, for no reason other than it seemed like a good idea. At some point, I caught up to another runner, and fully intended to pass her, but she opened a conversation as we rounded a corner and stuck with me.

I’m really glad she did. We spent the next six or eight miles together. I learned about her running past [she used to live in Hopkinton, where the Boston Marathon starts!] and we chatted away a few hours of running.

I felt like I could have gone a little faster at this point, but I was more excited to have company and someone to talk to. Finding kindred spirits is one of my favorite parts of long races.

12596963_10153947319168522_1189040985_o

My new friend and motivation for the middle stretch of the race

When we reached a downhill stretch, she and I parted ways; I’m a strong downhill runner and was feeling good.

The 50k course included all of the 30k course; we headed back to the start line with the 30k runners, then turned around and went out for another 12 miles after that.  As I headed back to the start line, I was feeling pretty good, energized by running with my new friend and excited by the prospect of running another 12 miles on the course. I would see her one more time on the course as I headed back out and she reached her finish line.

I like courses that have little stretches of out-and-back. Some runners don’t, because it can be demotivating to run in the opposite direction of where you’re ultimately headed, especially when part of that is at the start/finish line. However, I think  it’s fun to see the other runners on the course who are ahead or behind. It’s also an easy way to figure out how well you’re doing relative to other runners, because you can count who’s ahead of you. I hadn’t seen that many women with yellow bibs, and none that had passed me.

With just a few miles to the turn-around at the start, I started looking out for runners coming the other way. I saw one – she was moving pretty fast, and she was about 2-2.5 miles ahead of me. I saw one more, but she had made a wrong turn and wasn’t running the 50k anymore. And then … I reached the turnaround.  There weren’t any other women ahead of me.

I was in 2nd place.

And, even better, I was feeling good, both physically and mentally.

Neat. I turned around and took off, trying to widen the gap between myself and whoever was behind me. I quickly saw two women neck-in-neck, both 50k runners, about a mile behind me. So that meant I had to not lose a minute per mile to them, approximately, over the next 12 miles. It was 2nd place or 4th place.

I was glad I had left some gas in the tank, because the next few miles were back up that first hill again. I paced myself, running the hill where I could and taking walk breaks on the steep parts where I needed to, and made it to the first aid station in good shape.

Untitled

Cruising up a hill

There were three aid stations in this stretch, and I knew that if I made it to the 2nd one without getting passed, I could defend my position and sprint the last six miles to the finish. So the next few miles were somewhat anxiety-filled. Every walk-break, I was second-guessing whether or not I was wasting time by walking. This strategizing was kind of fun, too – not something I normally did in races, because normally I don’t compete for any meaningful prizes in races.

I made it to the 2nd aid station – another out-and-back – and hadn’t been passed yet. As I left the aid station, I saw one of the other women behind me. She was still about ten minutes back. I was pretty confident that she wouldn’t catch me, but I didn’t want to take any risks.

The last six miles were great. My legs had started to fatigue a little bit, but I knew I could go this last stretch without hitting the wall. These were the miles where I could feel my long runs paying off. I felt strong and prepared for the distance.

12773420_10153947319218522_591497375_o

Flying

After the last aid station, it was all downhill, and I flew all the way down to the lake. The last mile or so was little rolling hills along the lake, and I really pushed hard. At this point, it wasn’t because I was worried about getting passed, but because I was feeling good and I wanted to leave it all on the course. Will came back and ran with me for the last couple of minutes too, which was motivating and fun.

I crossed the finish line at 5:41, which was my 3rd fasted trail 50k time. And – I came in 2nd!

IMG_1633

Will pacing me to the finish

 

I had a really great time out on the course. I had been feeling really burnt out on running. A fun race – which turned into a competitive race – ended up being just the thing to get me back on track. Training for a 100-mile race is hard work, and it was nice to take a mental break and see some of that training pay dividends.

Sometimes we forget why we do the things we do, and it’s hard to get over the hump. This race helped to remind me about the reasons I run.

Running is a very multifaceted activity, and it draws people in for a variety of reasons. Some people love structured training, getting lost in the wilderness, racing competitively, or breaking PRs. As for me, I’ve always loved showing up to a race with no agenda, knowing that the time doesn’t matter, and also knowing that all I have to do is have a good time in nature. I don’t have to worry about the distance or about getting lost or about making sure I get home in time for something. All of that is taken care of, and all I have to do is relax into the trail, maybe make some friends, and appreciate being outdoors in a body I’ve worked hard to make strong.

 

FullSizeRender (2)

Swag. Bottom middle is the 1st-place age group medal, which is what they were giving out instead of 1st-2nd-3rd prizes. Also, what a great bib number.

 

Quick reminder: I’m still fundraising for the SF double marathon. Check it out: https://www.crowdrise.com/sanfranciscodoublema/fundraiser/brbrunning 

Rocky 50K – Fun run through Philadelphia retracing the Rocky II montage

Posted on by

Today, I ran the Rocky 50k – an unsupported, unofficial race through Philadelphia that retraces Rocky’s training montage in Rocky II. Last year, a journalist wondered exactly how far Rocky went in his training run, and mapped it on Google Maps. The route came in at 30.6 miles – just a half mile short of a 50k. A local ultrarunner added a half mile to create a 50k course, then got people together for an unofficial race to run the route. When I learned about it last year (one day too late!) I knew I had to run it this year.

Despite a cease-and-desist letter from MGM claiming copyright infringement for use of the Rocky brand, the run somehow continued on for its second year, and that race took place today.

The route is pretty ridiculous in terms of its complexity. It’s also unmarked, which means there are no flags or chalk telling runners where to turn. For training, I ran a few of the legs beforehand; I wanted to make sure I knew where I was going on race day. This definitely helped get me psyched for the race – while running down Passayunk, a guy made the Rocky victory arms motion at me – and helped during race day, because I knew all but one of the turns without having to look at my awesome hand drawn map.

IMG_20141205_203853090

My awesome index-card, color-coded map. Definitely not gonna get lost with this!

The morning of the race, Will came with me to the start line. He’s training seriously for an actual, official marathon next weekend, so he wasn’t going to run this, although he would pace me for the last 11 miles.

I was surprised how many people showed up to the start – probably 60-70 runners were gathered on a random street corner in South Philadelphia, many of them clad in the classic grey-sweatsuit-and-red-headband garb of the montage. Runner’s World magazine was there to cover the event, too. Race organizer Rebecca counted down to the start with a “well, this isn’t very official, so … 3, 2, 1, go!” Everyone sort of stood around for a minute, then started running.

At the “Start line.” Check out the red headband!

The first part of the race was very social; runners were grouping together to navigate the course. There were a lot of ultrarunners running this race, which made me really excited – several guys had run a local 24-hour race this year, and one was in the lottery for Leadville 100. It’s hard to find other ultrarunners, and one sure-fire way to do it is, not surprisingly, running an ultra.

I dropped back from the group at mile 6 to use the restroom, then spent the next six miles tracking down runners ahead of me, mainly looking for someone to chat with. The first guy I passed had his headphones in and hadn’t been very talkative earlier, and the second guy I passed was planning to drop out at mile 15 (although his longest prior run was only 7 miles, so I had a lot of respect for him!). The next group I passed all seemed to know each other and weren’t super interested in talking.

I made my way down Broad Street, which was, fortunately, downhill. Ahead of me, I saw one figure wearing Rocky garb, and I followed his bobbing form through Center City. I caught up with him when he popped into a convenience store to pick up a drink, and realized it was one of the guys I’d been running with earlier, so we fell into step.

We rounded Washington and headed up 9th, which is where the famous scene of Rocky running down a vendor-filled street, past an on-fire trash can, takes place. The Runner’s World photographer had set up camp right near an actual on-fire trash can, and took pictures as we ran down the middle of the street. Street vendors were super excited, too – they had their arms up in Rocky-victory-pose when we ran by. It was fun to do this with someone who was actually dressed up as Rocky; in my green rain jacket, I wouldn’t have been recognizable as participating in a Rocky-themed run at all.

My running buddy dropped off at mile 15 – his house was nearby and he wanted to grab another drink (he did get back on the course – he wasn’t dropping out).

Meeting Will at mile ~20.

I knew Will was meeting me around mile 20, so, despite my aching hamstrings, I pushed on to one of the sketchier parts of the course, in northeast Philly. I had done one of my training runs in this area, because the route’s sort of tricky, so I knew what to expect.

Part of the course doubles back, and I saw a pack about ten minutes ahead of me. I finished that mini-loop and took off towards the Schuylkill, passing many other runners going the other direction. I knew they were only ten minutes behind me, so, even though there were no finisher medals, and no divisions, and no placing, that motivated me to keep moving.

I found Will exactly 3 hours after I started, which is also almost exactly when I said I would be there. He brought life-saving hydration, and we kept moving towards the river. Running down the river was non-eventful, because that’s my usual running route, so I knew what was coming. It started raining a bit, too. It was great to have Will pacing for this part, because it was pretty monotonous and I was feeling very tired. We passed by the Art Museum (where the steps are) and took off for a final loop through Center City.

The last several miles were to run through the city to the Delaware River along Chestnut, then back to the Art Museum along Arch. Running away from the finish line, through the city, was really tough for me – I was tired, and stopping at every intersection for traffic was really frustrating, especially in the rain. This is also the only time I almost made a wrong turn, but Will had fortunately memorized the route (and had it on his phone!) so we were safe.

Once we turned around and started heading back, I was feeling better, and the last three miles went by pretty quickly.

On the Rocky Steps, people frequently will run up them once and then do the Rocky Victory Dance. I always felt weird doing this without doing all the work from the montage beforehand, because part of what he’s celebrating is all of that time and effort he’s put into training. However, after running 31 miles, I felt like there was no better time to do the victory dance than today.

Victory!

Will took a video as I ran up the steps (fortunately, his microphone wasn’t good enough to catch my awesome/ridiculous self-motivational songs) and did the Rocky Victory Dance. The video is below!

Our attempt to jump in celebration of our finish.

There were a few others there who had finished right before me, and the Runner’s World photographer took a picture of us. He asked us if we could jump for a photo, and we all enthusiastically declared we could. After taking a couple of pictures, Will and I headed back down the steps. Will informed me that we all looked ridiculous attempting to jump and had barely left the ground.

While it wasn’t an official race, I did PR for my 50k time, with a 5:11 – not bad.

This was probably my favorite race that I’ve run on the East Coast since coming to Wharton. It had all of the things I like about running; it was fun, a little silly, very relaxed, friendly, social, and geographically exploratory. I liked seeing parts of Philly I hadn’t seen before, and I liked meeting other local ultrarunners. Wharton students don’t get outside of the “Wharton bubble” very frequently, and this was a cool opportunity to do just that.