Race Report: CDTR

The Continental Divide Trail Race, or CDTR, takes place in Steamboat Springs, CO. It had been recommended to me by two friends from work as 1)  cheap (with a  $40 entry fee) and 2) a fun and beautiful race. They may also have called it “brutal” and “difficult,” but those are the races I tend to pursue in any case, so no surprise there.

Short version: the race heads from the Fish Creek Falls parking area, uphill for 6 miles to Long Lake, from whence it takes a forested ridgeline to the top of Mt Werner. From Mt Werner it takes a 3 mile drop down a service road to the finish line at the top of the Gondola.

My fiancée and I decided to drive up the night before, and take the nearly unprecedented step of staying in a hotel for the night. By sure chance, and luck, I managed to secure a hotel room in a place that was near both the pickup point for the shuttles to the start line, and the Gondola that would take G to the finish. Staying in a hotel turned out to be both relaxing, and relatively economical during the off(ish) season at Steamboat.

I had very low expectations for my own performance in this race. Naturally, I always want to do well in races. But with about a week of solid post-abdominal sprain training under my belt, my expectations hovered somewhere around “finishing.” Nevertheless, even with a mile or so added to the course this year, allowing a second aid station to be placed at Long Lake (there had previously only been one aid at Mt Werner, where with a 3 mile drop to the finish very few people would take aid in any case), I thought a 2:30 finishing time was within the realm of possibility.

The race started as most trail races seem to: with a mad dash out of a parking lot, onto a brief double-track portion that quickly condenses into single track. As usual, the lead group of 15 or so, including myself, jockeyed for position before settling into the 5 mile, 2000+ foot climb to the lake.

At the start line, a fellow Boulder runner had described this section as “Gregory Canyon times 2.” And that about sums it up. There were switchbacky, buffed out sections as well as bare rock portions. The grade was entirely runnable, but occasionally the technicality would be such that most people dropped to a swift hiking cadence. After several miles, the climb flattened out significantly, and the trail entered what I would describe as “moose territory:” a broad, flat, marshy section where the creek meandered through an alpine meadow.

I had settled in behind the three lead women early on, but found my lack of general training quickly catching up to me and watched two of the three recede into the distance. Normally this would bother me and I would not let competitors get away, but I knew that if I was going to finish this race, I’d have to pick my pace, and theirs was too quick for me this time.

I came into the first aid station at Long Lake in about 1:07, a little slower than I would have liked, but still not too terrible. I grabbed some water and, not stopping at all, turned around and followed the third woman (Hannah, as I found out) back on to the course. Slightly behind me was a guy in a black shirt.

A quick aside: I discovered some time ago that what music I have stuck in my head can definitely affect my running cadence and general emotional state. Last year on Longs,  I discovered that Churchill’s “Change” could really motivate me on a long climb. This summer, I discovered that “I’ll Fly Away,” of all things, helped me feel lighter on my feet and helped me ease through rolling, semi-technical trail. With that in mind, I put “Change” on repeat in my head during the climb and “I’ll Fly Way” in my head during the middle portion. “I Feel Good” remains my go-to, sing-out-loud song for the downhills.

With “I’ll Fly Away” floating through my head, I set my sights on the runner in front of me and settled in for the ridge run. The initial climb had left me with little in the way of extra energy, and my legs felt like dead weight already. But for me, there was never any question that I would finish. I focused on two things: staying with the runner in front and keeping a positive outlook.

Somewhere around mile 3.5 of this middle stretch (just an estimate) the runner in front pulled away. Fortunately, or otherwise as the case may be, I was also caught by a runner from behind at this time. Ian, I would later learn. I had beat this particular runner many times before, though during the race I didn’t know that. We paced each other through the next  mile and a bit, until, sadly, he dropped me on one of the final climbs to Mt Werner. I was a little mad that I let him get away, as I think with just a touch more effort I could have kept up with him through the climb and the subsequent downhill.

The downhill was a bomb. I came through the aid station at 2:09, slower than I would have liked had I been at full fitness but good enough in my state. I knew that my 2:30 goal was easily within reach as long as I could press the downhill.

And press I did. Within 400 meters I was passing the Boulderite I mentioned before (turns out he works less than a block from me and we run many of the same routes). He’d had a tough race, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy passing him.  Save for a minor encounter with a construction worker (the course marking were the same color as the markings for the no trespassing zone around the construction site) I kept the cadence high and my feet under me on the descent, and made it to the finish in just under 16 minutes even with the slight uphill at the end.