Pikes Peak Marathon 2012: Race Report

Less than half an hour into the race, I knew it was going to be a long, painful slog to the finish. And I still had 23 miles, and 5000+ feet of climbing to go.

The ultimate goal for the day, illuminated by classic Alpenglow.

In retrospect, I probably could have seen it sooner. Two nights before the race, my friend, who is 4 years into a 6 year stint with the Navy, came into town. This meant, naturally, that we went out, and had more to drink than I usually do. The next day, the power went out right around the time we were going to eat dinner, and I ended up eating corn and chicken instead of my normal spaghetti. Add that to the general fatigue in my legs that had been present all week, and the Pikes Peak Marathon seemed a whole lot longer.

Three miles in, near the top of the famous "W's," I was still feeling ok, but I could tell that my legs were not all there. I could cruise faster than most on the following flats and mild uphills, catching many. I was still on and under my goal splits for this section of the race. I was still hopeful, but realization was dawning in me that this would not be a breakthrough race for me.

After Barr Camp, though, I blew up. I asked my legs for ore juice for the climb, and they had nothing to give. Far, far sooner than I would normally need to, at a shallow grade, I slowed to a hike. People started passing me, and though I intended to follow all of them, my legs refused to function.

At 12000', past the A-frame, Kilian Jornet flew down, smiling, laughing, and yelling "great job" at the people he passed. He had clearly not broken the record, but was just as clearly firmly in the lead and not in the least bit worried about the competition. Indeed, he broke his age group record for the descent while looking effortless.

Meanwhile, I continued my slow plod to the top. I had considered, every half mile or so for the past 8 miles, dropping out and saving myself for another day. But I quashed that thought, and continued. Even at 13 and 14 thousand feet, I was unable to push myself to the point where I was breathing hard. It says a ton about my acclimatization, but not much about my fitness on the day.

Nonetheless, I finished the ascent in a decently respectable 3:20, and turned to head down. Down past the A-Frame, I was feeling good again, and passing people while not being passed myself. But again, after three miles of the novel downhill section, my legs gave out.

I slogged through Barr Camp and back along the flats, struggling to hold even a 10 minute mile pace at times. Then, on an embarrassingly smooth stretch of trail, I found myself suddenly lying on my side with the taste of dust in my mouth. I had tripped over the only tree root within 50 yards. But lucky for me the next runner on the trail was nice enough to stop and give me a hand up before cruising by. At this point, another runner I had passed already on the way down trotted by as well.

Discouraging.

The remaining 6 miles to the finish is best left undescribed. I  made my way to the finish for a time of 5:22. My friends and training partners had come in at 4:22 and 4:39 for 10th and 18th place.

I have had many tell me since that, given the kind of day I had, coming in at 59th place overall and 9th in my age group is nothing to complain about. And I know they are right. But I am still frustrated and disappointed with the result.

Next time. I will learn from this and I will dial in my next marathon (or ultra?) that much better.

Edit 8-23: I have already decided on my next race: the Moab Trail Marathon on November 4. Between now and then I will be doing several shorter races, including a 2k and a 4 mile trail race, to up my tolerance for higher turnover.

Focus!

It's taper time once again.

Pikes Peak Marathon is on Sunday, the 19th, and my legs are, to put it mildly, not cooperating. My quads have been feeling out of sorts ever since a few days after my last Longs Peak run. I took it easy on the downhill, but I think I pounded my legs a little too much in trying to stay slow, trying not to a) injure myself or b) injure anybody else among the hordes on the trail that day.

Fortunately, I still have a good four days left, and my legs are starting to feel better after a few short, flat runs. Tomorrow will be a bit of a test, and then it will be short, flat runs until Pikes on Sunday. All I need to do now is focus on the race, and put my nonresponsive legs out of my mind.

Given the idea I have brewing, focusing on a marathon is proving difficult. But more on that post run.

I, for one, am looking forward to posting my own time with Matt Carpenter, Max King, and Kilian Jornet.  It should be an epic race.

Playing around in the Collegiate Peaks

Looking down Browns Pass towards Princeton

Two weeks ago, I was lucky enough to have my Mom's side of the family come out to Buena Vista, CO, for a week-long reunion. I had been excited about this for a long time, since the Collegiate Peaks are prime running territory, and the trip might afford me some great training for the Pikes Peak Marathon (now coming up in under two weeks!).

While I was excited, I also knew that, this being a reunion, family was first priority, and whatever good runs (beyond my normal daily routine) I could fit in would be an added bonus.

So, losing no time, the first morning I was there, while everybody was still settling in, I headed up to the Denny Creek Trailhead outside of BV, and up Browns Pass. This trailhead also leads to the trail up Mt Yale, one of Colorado's 14ers, but I decided to leave that for a later day. To my surprise and delight, the trail, after an initial, steep, half mile uphill, proved reasonably mellow and soft, save for a few technical sections. Five miles and 2200 feet or so later, I was halfway through a near-perfect run.

Marmot

I had, the weekend before, had probably the worst run of my life. A trip up James Peak, a lost, and eventually returned, camera, and poor nutritional choices had led to a 16 mile run taking 4:15, including some walked downhills. A quick, sub two-hour, beautiful run was exactly what I needed to come back from the disappointment that was the James Peak run.

The next day, my sister and her husband arrived, and we quickly headed back up to the same trail (at 3:30PM). My sister wanted to get some running and quiet reading in, and my brother-n-law and I decided to see what we could do on Yale in a reasonable amount of time. 3300 feet and a couple hours later, we realized there was no chance to make the summit, turned around, and headed back down the mountain to find my sister finishing Kara Goucher's book on running. This stands as one of my favorite hikes ever.

The sky near Yale was stunning

My brother-in-law would return to Yale a few days later to summit. That day, I headed over to the North Cottonwood Trailhead for a 2.5-hr run, to see what I could do on Harvard. Once again, I did not summit due to time constraints. I had a ziplining appointment at 2PM that I didn't want to miss. But once again, I had a fantastic run,  putting in a tempo effort up the trail, and then flying down it at, according to my watch, 5:40 mile pace.

All in all, an excellent week in the mountains. Part of me was inclined to be annoyed that I did not get to summit any peaks during the week, but I realized that, summits or not, I was getting great training in at altitude.

And the training paid off. Less than a week after I got back, I headed back to Longs Peak to get a final, big mountain training run in before Pikes. Despite again not feeling fresh, I took a full 18 minutes off my ascent time, bounding up the homestretch to reach the top in 2:18. And I did so in front of no other than Andy Anderson, Park Ranger and holder of the Longs Peak RT FKT.  I descended in a lazy 1:55 for a 23 minute PR on Longs.

Meeker from Longs 

Tons of people on the trail. Probably slowed my descent down from what it could have been. Andy is the ranger in yellow on the right.

Finally, this young bull elk posed for several pictures 3 miles from the trailhead.

Longs Peak

Despite the title of this post, I'll start out with a picture of Mt Rainier I took last week during fieldwork in Washington.

We have some impressive mountains here in Colorado, the subject of the remainder of this post being one of them, but our peaks don't hold a candle to the Cascade volcanoes. They rise, seemingly out of nowhere (well, out of a magma plume, but I don't want to get too terribly dorky here) and in Rainier's case thrust 14000 feet from sea level, utterly dwarfing the mountains around them.

And at any point, they could blow their tops, as Mt St Helens did three years before I was born. 

Back to Colorado.

After I got back from Washington, I decided the time had come to run Longs. I have lived in Boulder for years now, seeing this mountain dominating the skyline every time I drove up 36 from Denver, and yet for no apparent reason I had never climbed it. So, Saturday morning, after taking the chance to sleep in, I decided to give it a go. 

I reached the trailhead late enough that I had to park a good half-mile down the road. I expected as much, arriving at 10AM when most hikers leave between 2 and 3 in the morning. Remembering to put on sunscreen, I strapped on my UD Katoa waistpack, grabbed an extra water bottle in a UD Quickdraw, and headed up the shallow trail, 5100' of climbing and 7 1/2 miles of running and scrambling ahead of me. 

As sometimes is the case, I felt sluggish the first two or three miles. When I got up out of the forest, and to treeline, I started to feel a little more energetic, and picked up the pace a bit. Past the Chasm Lake junction, I felt even better and proceeded up to the Boulder field in just over half an hour. The boulder field, I think, was the most fun I had on the trip. Rather than follow the track, I regressed back to my days in Minnesota, rock-hopping along the shores of Lake Superior, and took a direct route to the keyhole, crossing the field and making it to the keyhole in under 15 minutes. 

The Keyhole

Beyond this, I had been a little nervous about the route. I knew it grew significantly more exposed and more of a scramble than a run. I surprised myself, though, by finding this section unimposing, and actually quite fun. I started to run into more people descending the route, here, and was often forced to take a higher or lower route across the Narrows, and a steeper route up the Trough, scrambling in truth now where I had danced across the Narrows.

Around here people started to notice me (the bright green shirt might have helped) and began to a) get out of my way and b) ask me when I had started and how long I expected to take to get to the summit. When I told them 10AM and 2:30, respectively, most decided I was crazy. I neglected to mention Tony's recent 1:42 up this route.

I did not, unfortunately, make it to the summit in the 2:30 I had hoped. I realized this wouldn't happen while scrambling the Home Stretch, and let it go. I finally crested the top at 12:36, exactly 2:36 from the car.

By this point, though, some storm clouds were forming, and after a few quick pics, I took off down the same route I went up.

The weather that chased me all the way down and caught me in the parking lot.

The summit. I was amazed how huge it was, though I had known and expected it.

Looking back down the Homestretch, some climbers are visible in the distance.

I took my time descending, and by this point my quads were telling me it would be a long run back to the car. By the boulder field, I was less running and more picking my way, even taking the path for a brief period. Nonetheless, the last several miles were quick, as I (barely) outpaced the rain to my car.

Total time running was 4:34. I took some time to look around on the way down, making my car-to-car time (including the extra half mile each way) was 5 hours flat.

All in all, a very fun day on the mountain. I learned that I am, to my surprise, quite comfortable on the semi-scrambling bits. I am also, apparently, quite surprisingly quick on these sections, choosing to bolt forward in short bursts, taking short breaks when needed, rather than move at a steady slog. In the words of one other climber, who I saw on my way up, and passed again on my way down the trough, I "crushed it."

And I caught the bug: looking forward to another adventure on Meeker this weekend.

Leadville Marathon 2012: Race Report.

Well,  the marathon is over for another year. I made one of my three goals, which is clearly that of beating my time from last year. I admit my first goal was decidedly a reach for me, and very likely my second as well. Simply put: Leadville is a tough race, with 6300 feet of climbing and descending in a 26 mile course.

So, am I disappointed in the race? I must admit to a little bit, but very little for all that. Rather than do a blow-by-blow account of the race, I'll break from tradition and just give a general breakdown of what I did right and wrong, and my general thoughts and lessons from this race.

First of all: what I did wrong.

Or maybe rather than wrong I should say I was careless for most of these.

This started long before the race. Wednesday, while I was supposed to be tapering and taking it easy, I ran 11 miles, doubling for the day, with some up-tempo miles in there. That is never a great idea right before a race, and I think it led to some lingering fatigue on the start line. But I won't beat myself up about that, since I run because I love it, and the run on Wednesday afternoon was very enjoyable.

The second way I was careless was in my packing. For the most part I was ready days ahead of time for the race itself. What I was not ready for was breakfast the day of the race. Traditionally for me this is a double-dose of Quaker Instant Oatmeal (Maple and Brown Sugar flavor). Unfortunately, I neglected to pack any sort of utensils. My backup was bread with peanut butter and jelly, but I opened my bread to find it moldy. I ended up eating a granola bar and a cliff bar for breakfast. I'm not sure that was enough for somebody like me.

The only other thing I can say that I did wrong was not push hard enough up Mosquito Pass. But this is also something I did right.

On the starting line Saturday morning, I looked up at the pass and wondered just why I was doing this again. This race had wrecked me last year, physically and emotionally. I knew what was in front of me, but I signed up again.

This time, though, I knew what I was getting into. I knew the course, and I knew my own abilities better than last year. I decided on a plan: I didn't want to feel anything until after I got down from Mosquito Pass. I remembered last year that I had been strong until the bottom of the pass, and had ended up walking flats and even some downhills afterwards.

So I took it easier than I thought I needed to. I hit the first aid station 2 minutes slower than last year, stride for stride with another Boulder runner I've encountered now and then on the trails. Hitting the bottom of the pass, 10 miles into the race with a 3 mile, 2000 foot climb ahead of me, I felt fresh. I alternated running and power hiking up the pass, whichever felt more efficient for the grade, running my own race and not worrying much about the other marathoners. I knew my race would come in the last ten miles.

And my plan worked. I hit the bottom of the pass in good shape, compared to last year. I was running the road up to Ball Mountain, where I had walked last year. I even ran most of the way around Ball Mountain, which I mostly walked the previous year.

I also took better care of my nutrition and hydration this year. I took a gel every 45 minutes. Every aid station, I topped off my (mostly empty) water bottle and downed a cup of Gu-Bru. And at the top of Mosquito Pass I took to S-Caps, just to be safe.

I ran my own race, had my nutrition dialed in, and passed 5 or 6 runners in the last 10 miles while being passed by 2. A much smarter race than last year, yet I shaved only 4 minutes off my time.

Which makes me consider again just how hard a race this is. My synopsis: I took too far on the "taking it easy." I probably could have shaved a good 2-3 minutes off my first 4 miles, and 3-5 minutes off my time up Mosquito Pass and been ok for the last 10 miles.

So, am I pleased  with my race? Very much so. Am I also a little annoyed and disappointed? Of course. But if everything goes perfectly, you don't learn anything. In that spirit:

Things done right:
1) Had a race plan, and stuck to it (in spite of occasional doubt).
2) Nutrition/hydration.
3) I took the chance to enjoy the race, the scenery, and chat with some other runners.

Things learned:
1) TAPER!!!
2) It doesn't matter if you remember your Oatmeal if you forget your spoon.
3) I'm in better shape than I've ever been, and can therefore push a little harder.

(On a side note, I was very happy to run into a number of people I knew at this race. Several people mentioned knowing who I was from the Wednesday runs at the BRC. There was also a sizable contingent from Boldrunning there, including one very vocal spectator. It made the finish line that much more fun.)

And I'm Off

Sayonara.

I'm off to Leadville for the night before the race tomorrow!

Primary Goal: 4:15
Secondary Goal: 4:30
Tertiary Goal: My time from last year: 4:46.

Given my vastly superior fitness this year, I should be able to manage at least #3, probably #2 as well.

James Peak Dreams

With Boulder smashing several heat records in the past few days, and a large portion of the state on fire, it seemed like a good weekend to get up high. This being Colorado, everybody had the same idea, and the high country was packed with people of all ages, and abilities, all weekend. 

After an excellent day on Saturday (finally) experiencing the Georgetown Loop narrow gauge railroad (picture above), I decided to head up to the James Peak Wilderness Area on Sunday. In July, I will have lived in Boulder for a full 7 years, and yet somehow I have never been up to the James Peak area. I can only claim ignorance on my part, and possibly I was deterred by the 8 mile dirt road to the trailhead. I had naturally assumed this might be a road similar to the road to the Fourth of July trailhead, but I could average 45 on this road without worrying about my car. 

Once there, I had no idea what trail to take. I only knew I did not want to go too crazy with the marathon coming up in under a week now. Luckily I ran into a couple friendly former trail runners (I did not ask about the "former" designation), who directed me up Rogers Pass trail to Heart Lake. 

The runners had warned me that this was a steep trail, but I found it to be a very relaxed grade, rising only 2000 feet or so in the 4 miles to the lake. The run itself is gorgeous, crossing South Boulder Creek and its tributaries numerous times as it winds its way up towards Rogers Lake and the (eventual) path. At no point did the grade feel steep to the point that it would be more efficient to walk. 

About a mile (rough estimate: I didn't wear a watch) from Heart Lake, the trail takes a marked turn upwards, alongside a many-channeled cascade, which at the time I ran it was full of wildflowers. 

As you can see, it was actually cloudy. I was not complaining.

Half a mile later, it came alongside Rogers (Pass?) Lake, through a boggy patch, reminiscent of Minnesota, and I noticed something surprising: several miles in, and almost 2000 feet up, my legs felt fresh. There was no feeling of effort the entire way up, and I crushed the last half mile or so up to Heart Lake (startling a couple unsuspecting hikers along the way).

From Heart Lake, the trail continues up the side of a mountain up to the Divide. 

The clouds don't look bad, but they were rumbling.

I opted out of running to the ridge this particular day. Between the marathon next Saturday, and the rumbling clouds, I decided it wasn't a good idea. Either on its own might not have deterred me, but the last thing I wanted to do was race down the side of a mountain in a thunderstorm and risk messing up my ankle this week. So instead, I stopped, took a few pictures of the area, and the peaks I want to tag next time, and turned around for a leisurely run back to the car. 

The view around Heart Lake.

Unidentified "to be tagged" peak #1

Unidentified "to be tagged" peak #2

Unidentified "to be tagged" peak #3 and 4

 I actually felt a few drops of rain on my way down, good news for a state that seems to be on fire.

Round trip, this run took me about 2 hours, but as I said, I was not pushing it. Now that I've seen James Peak Wilderness, I am astounded that I have not been up there before. Between Leadville and Pikes, I fully plan to grab a map, take off early some Sunday morning, and tag James Peak and several of these other peaks. They are just begging for it.

Meanwhile, the taper for Leadville is in full force. I think I might be able to throw down a bit on Saturday.