Zion 100 Mile, Revised

Zion 100 Mile
Friday-Saturday, April 19-20, 2013

The course was revamped by RD Matt Gunn, who had always demonstrated a commitment to making this race the best possible.  Lots of changes, all for the better, if not for the easier.  Having run both the previous inaugural year (2012) and this year (2013), I think the new course better showcased the beautiful scenery next to Zion National Park.  my 2012 race report

2013 elevation profile

2012 inaugural race map, laid to rest

I was undertrained for this race.  Here is my litany of whiny reasons why I was under-trained (that you may skip to the next bold font section):

I paced the Oakland Marathon 2 weekends before.  I would have done 3:20 or 3:30, as I had done previously, but my friend was aiming to run 3:40, so I decided to lead that pace group.  My friend ended up qualifying for Boston, but the run was hardly a workout for me (I was barely breathing faster than normal, it felt like).  Due to my work schedule, I could not get a good run the following week.  Then I left for a vacation in Mexico.  I finally got to get my runs in, but it was flat there and not the best running.

?picture of Mexico?

The day after we returned from our trip real late, I worked an 11 hour shift, somehow managing to evade exhaustion, but at 3 am awoke with leg cramping, and then the urge to defecate, following by severe cramping abdominal pain and thin liquidy diarrhea the rest of the night until my system was cleared out.  I called in sick for maybe the 4th time in my career, and slept all day.  Despite improving, I was too weak and tired to go running.  By another day off on Friday, six days before Zion, I was determined to get a long run in.  Besides wanting to exercise, I needed to assess my fitness level with the undertraining followed by illness.

I ran Chihping's Fu's inaugural Moon Eye Fat Ass, going for the longest distance of 40 miles.  It took me 2-3 hours longer than it should have, but I was able to finish.  The last 10-20 miles felt like the the last 10-20 miles of a 100-mile run.

?Moon Eye photo?

I didn't know if I was fully recovered over the weekend, since working overnights always makes me feel a little sick.  Finally Tuesday, after a normal night's sleep, I realized I was better.  Just in time.

I got in really late and missed the packet pick up and the free wood fired pizza.

My flight out of Oakland on Thursday was scheduled for 1:30, getting into Las Vegas around 3.  While working from home, I was horrified to read an email saying my flight was delayed, eventually the departure time settled at 4 pm. As it turned out, the Southwest jet was coming from somewhere in the Midwest where they were having horrific storms, causing the delay.  I ended up getting in close to 6 pm, and since I was missing the included free pre-race dinner (wood-fired pizza),

Grumpy Goat pizzas, from their blog

I had to stop for food and look for a hotel near race start.  I got in late.  I was already short of sleep, so knew I would likely get sleepy during the race.

aerial view in Michigan two days later
I guess I shouldn't complain too much about losing my free pizza and some pre-race shut-eye...

The other thing I missed was picking up a baton to carry during the race, to honor the Boston Marathon bombing victims.  They were delivered to them afterwards.

The course was modified from the previous (first) year.  The part we did at the end, which I ran in the dark, we did first, so I got to enjoy some gorgeous scenery for the first time.

I got to run and chat with Jennifer Benna again, whom I met at Tahoe Rim Trail 100 mile two years prior.  This time I suspect she stayed with me to make sure she didn't go out too fast early.  We ran together off and on for 15-20 miles.  She was no longer lactating.  I got to hear she was working with her husband JB on a documentary about ultrarunning women.  I think I suggested they also include an older woman to give the film some more longitudinal depth; maybe they already have their hands full.  I was amused when she complained after we passed through the first aids station that her hubbie was too busy shooting footage on her, rather than helping crew her at the aid stations.  JB, where were your priorities?

Jenn with her daughter in Barcelona (ran Transvulcania 83k) the following month

Before too long, Jen got tired of my pace and went ahead, she would eventually finish almost 5 hours ahead of me in a formidable 19:01, women's champion and 5th overall.  Jenn's race report

I had another crotch mishap
This happened at Eagle Crags aid station, mile 44, different from my worst running crotch mishap.
This was atop a hill with a nice view, the end of an out and back three miles each way, and was not on the course the previous year
It getting quite warm, I want to relube my crotch.  There were two jars, one of Vaseline, and the other this fancy looking stuff.  Unable to figure it out myself, I asked a volunteer is the other stuff was safe as crotch lube.  He looked at it, maybe asked around, and told me it should be.  So I take a large glob of it, apply it to both sides of my jewels, and proceed to the portapotty, where a useful good thing occurred, and a not so useful really bad thing was felt.

It wasn't this, but same idea.  Do NOT apply to genital area.

How the race ended
Last year, climbing Flying Monkey Trail at the very beginning of the race, was challenging but fun-- you sometime had to use your hands, there was one part with a hanging rope to help you get up an almost vertical rock side.  This year, coming at between miles 85 and 87, and for me in the dark, it was REALLY challenging, run and at times downright scary (when I realized much of it is atop a steep cliff).  I did enjoy the eerily cool ring-shaped cloud formation illuminated by the half-moon up ahead.

photo of the climb at the beginning of the previous year's inaugural race
photo from fastcory.com

no monkey this year either

After flattening and even descending at times, the route turned right, up a fire road.  Less intellectually stimulating, and despite two caffeinated gels with 50 mg each in the preceding 15 miles, I started to get really sleepy.  I swerved at times, and then finally, found myself off the side of the road, about to fall (so actually fell asleep for a couple of seconds).  Oops-- falling asleep was neither advantageous for my time nor conducive to staying alive.  I would later post this facebook, which my dad (who really doesn't say much about my running) would read and then scold me for (on facebook) for behaving recklessly and endangering my life.  I fumbled through my pack and found a caffeine chew, as my headlamp gave more warning blinks that the batteries were running low.

My GPS read 3:55-- I recalled changing the time zone on one of the three Garmins I brought, but couldn't recall which.  If this were Pacific Time, then there was no way I would make 24 hours, and I had assumed hours ago that is wasn't likely to happen.

At the aid station just past 4 am, I learned it was Rocky Mountain Time--ugh, I could make it and therefore need to inflict more pain on myself, even though there is no special sub-24 hour buckle.

but they are all hand-made and unique and quite pleasing to the eye

I had to change the battery pack for my awesome Petzl Nao headlamp, though.  The strings got tangled though, and being a new model, I knew better than to ask a volunteer to help.  I thought to myself that if I missed 24 hours by 2-3 minutes, I might be irritating at myself for screwing up the headlamp maintenance.

I was quoted a 3 mile out and back.  After downing two 50 mg caffeinated gels and water, I left my bottle and my pack at the aid station to save weight and took off at a relatively fast pace (by my estimate, about as fast as the leaders would have run it, it they kept a constant pace).

Even with the pack back on, I continued to pass runners.  My glove came off when I opened a gate leading to the roads close to the finish.  Normally I'd look to pick it up but I was in a rush as the next guy (later ID'd as Jack Carey) was catching up (I later drove back to get it).  I accelerated even more, but hitting the road, couldn't see any sign, and I or the runner chasing me couldn't remember if the start/finish area was on the same or the opposite side of the street.  The other guy then saw sign across the street and took off.  I was sort of irritated at giving up a place so late until I realized that I was likely going to be the last person to finish under 24 hours, which always way cool, and cooler than finishing as the 2nd to last sub-24 dude.  Hence, I let the other guy finish less glamorously.  Sucka!

results
apparently the next to finish was the famous Pam Reed; I have yet to meet and chat with her

GPS recordings of my run:
miles 0-52
miles 52-77
miles 77-100

the ever-changing blog race old website

This year (2014), Matt Gunn has picked up Tim Long (who finished 17th) as a co-RD, and added several new races under their new company Ultra Adventures.  The date for Zion has been moved up a couple of weeks to the first weekend in April...oh, I guess in a few days.  Do I have to get packed really fast?

Stonewalled by My Scrotum at the Massanutten Mountain 100 Mile Run

photo by Susan Donnelly

The pre-race meeting had already started when we pulled into the Caroline Furnace Lutheran campground, this year's new start and finish area.  With my older son, I found a crowded, stuffy room with nowhere to sit.

My younger son had vomited maybe from the fast drive on the tortuous road from Fort Valley.  I needed to move my stuff into the sukkah more than a third of mile from the race headquarters, and then prepare my drop bags, which until then had proven an impossible task.  Still needed to charge up my batteries for my headlamps.  So I skipped the meeting.

At dinner, I sat with 100-miler rookie Yosuke Murase, who recently moved from Tokyo to the DC area for work.  We then ran into ex-BayArean Yuki Negoro, who was being paced by a woman I met at the Crater Lake Rim Marathon in 2005.  Yukiko (center) I figure has a nice of age-group and overall female awards during her 50 mile in 50 state adventure.

me, Yuki Negoro, Hiroyuki and Yukiko Nishide, Yosuke Murase and family
photo by Yuki's wife

Having missed the pre-race meeting, I figured I should hang a little with the race director as he did his own calorie loading.  I found Stan was very accessible by email prior to the race, but this iced the cake of race director accessibility.  I got the scoop on why the course was changed again this year (former host camp not the most cooperative) and why this race started in the first time (Old Dominion's race organization was just a little too relaxed, to put it diplomatically.)

I only had one roommate that night, who only post-race did I learn was David Garman . He would PR in 26:42.  Surprisingly I got decent sleep.  The sukkah was a great deal.

My son dusting off my cot mattress.  He slept in a real bed in a real house and the next day got to check out the nearby Luray Caves with his cousin using the included audio tour.

WEATHER

First the forecast bounced between "scattered" and "isolated" thunderstorms. Not sure the exact definition of either, but neither did I like. When I venture from my home state to do these races, I subject myself to a small but real risk of death by lightning, or the fear thereof.

But then a hole free of even light rain broke open for the race itself, and remained. Whew!

Some rain cleared the humidity that night before, right after I snuggled into my sleeping bag in the sukkah (for which I think I paid only $10 for the weekend, versus the $500+ for the VRBO rental in Luray for my family). But I awoke in the middle of the night sweating.

During the 3.6 miles to the first aid station, Moreland Gap, I felt a mugginess (ughi-ness!) not felt since Mohican in Ohio last June (report coming soon). Fortunately, I would soon find the ridges usually came with a breeze. If the weather and temperature weren’t quite perfect, they were nothing of which to complain.

ROCKS

In contrast to the weather, something to complain about. I knew they were coming, but of course wasn't prepared, coming from my groomed Bay Area trails, comparative red carpets. Tasted them quickly after switching from the road to the single track, after the first aid station through which buzzed most of the front runners ahead of me. Would the remaining 95+ miles be nothing but this? I cannot run this! Now I understood the “Massanutten Rocks” race motto on our long-sleeve shwag shirts, carries an ironically and sickly humorous double meaning, both verb and noun. Whether the rocks rock like the event as a whole or simply suck, was a matter of possibly changing interpretation.

photo by Susan Donnelly

After I pondered this, almost tripping a few times, I held back even further.

OMG, I'm going to run another 96 miles of this?    Could not be good.  I took it slowly. I did adapt somewhat.  And did appreciate that my new Sportiva Raptors, were well suited for the rugged, technical trail. Two guys went past me, one then immediately tripped over a rock and landed with a thud, but fortunately was not significantly hurt-- he decided to take it more slowly.

As it turned out, the whole course was not ALL rocks, but they kept popping up.   Even on sections of trail that weren't so rocky, there were enough that I had to keep my guard up.  I figured the rock who wants you to land on your face doesn't care if it's alone, or hanging out with a bunch of its friends.  It will trip you up just the same.  In fact, I found that the greatest risk of eating dirt often came from these random loner rocks, or rocks hidden under piles of fallen leaves left over from last autumn.

photo by Ray Smith

The pattern of my running strategy became this: downhill in control, invariably I would get passed on these technical sections. To partially make up for this, run whenever I could, any decent surface, definitely the flats. Inevitably the stretched of rocks would return.

approaching Edinburg aid station (mile 11.7) with 3 others, untechnical dirt road

photo by Anst Davidson

COMPANY

The longest conversation I had was with Todd Walker, who has sub-20'd this race twice, including one overall win.  We talked pretty much the whole 8.2 mile stretch from Edinburg Gap (mile 11.7) to Woodstock Tower (mile 19.9).  Great guy, who's overcome stuff in life.  (He ended up finishing in 21:12, 4th overall and 1st master.)

I initially didn't recognize Todd, wearing a shirt and out of his red shorts the next morning.

GI ISSUES

I was not free of these. Maybe I ate too much salad at dinner. The worst stretch of GI distress coincidentally coincided with the loss of satellite reception around mile 46 descending from ridge and continuing through Indian Grade aid station and continuing through the whole flat stretch of road to Habron Gap aid station, mile 53.6.

from the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum

But I figure most of us getting nauseated, and I never hurled like Joe Kulak did, when I passed him later, leaned over like in that discontinued North Face ad.

Joe the evening before; he arrived even late than I, a laid-back veteran

So I am not calculating “time lost to nausea” or the couple of early pit stops I made by the trail (most of the aid stations lacked toilets, this is a rugged run!)

urine and stool collection device used on early Soyuz spacecraft

Smithsonian Air and Space Museum

PARASITES AND VOLUNTEERS

At the final aid station, I pulled off 3 ticks crawling up my legs.  There was a 4th that had already started burrowing into my skin.  Because my hands were slippery (see next section), I couldn't get it out, so I asked a volunteer.  He was sort of grossed out, but obliged.  He told me it wasn't the deer tick that causes lyme disease (Ixodes scapularis).  At one point in my residency training, I had memorized the appearance of this tick, but years later I had to simply take his word for it.

Anyways, volunteers are like the opposite of parasites.  In fact, maybe we ultrarunners are like parasites, sucking the blood and life out of volunteers.  Gosh, I hope not.  Parasites are rude and never thank their hosts.

Thank you volunteers!  xoxo

Special thanks to volunteer Phil Kasunick for that nutrition shake bottle he gave me at (I think) Powell's Fort, mile 25.1.

STONEWALL JACKSON

The last third of the race, a couple of guys asked if I wanted a pacer.  "Well, wouldn't mind that, but I'm doing that Stonewall Jackson thing" I would answer.  Just as well, since they would probably have to hear me complain the following problem:

VASCROLINE-- MY CHAFING PROBLEM

The biggest memory from this run will be what happened to my scrotum, to whom I still apologize. Sorry, buddy, I promise not to do that to you again! The following is a retrospective analysis, part hypothesis that I cannot subject to the rigors of true scientific inquiry, but all of it probably valid.

Factor 1: Equipment Malfunction

Right before the start of the race, I pulled the drawstring of my RaceReady pocketed shorts. And kept pulling… and pulling. Damn drawstring came unattached! Race UN-Ready. Same happened to me with another pair, but not right at the start of a 100 mile race! An advantage of having a crew—you have them deliver you an extra pair for you to swap out later. I knew they would stay on, but I would be limited from stashing gels in them. As it turned out, no gels at the aid stations until the last third of the race. I did have to stash the flopping string a few times.

also shiny from Vaseline, see below

If I can't rethread this (still haven't three weeks later) I am going to write to the company. Will let you all know later how their customer service is.

Anyways, I'm suspecting the shorts, including the liner, sagged enough to make me prone to extra friction.

Factor 2: Keeping a Hand Free

My plan was to run most of the race with one handheld bottle, except for miles 41 to 63. At mile 40.7 (Veach Gap Parking aid station) I put on a detachable belt portion of a hydration pack along with a second handheld so that I would have two bottles for the 9 and 9.5 mile stretches (the race's longest) during the afternoon, usually the hottest time of day. After finishing off the first bottle during the steep ascent on each of these splits, I discovered I could keep a hand free by looping the belt through the mesh bottle Ultimate Direction sleeve. When to the side or back, the bottle would whack me every other stride, so I ended up letting it hang just anterior to my hip.

photo by Bobby Gill

In front of my right hip.

Which is next to my right scrotum.

Which is where I started having problems.

Just enough extra friction.  To make things go bad....

So enjoying some views of the valley to the east atop the ridge early during the longest split of the race, the 9.5 miles between Habron Gap Parking (mile 53.6) and Camp Roosevelt (mile 63.1), I started feeling it.

One of the few things I still remember from histology class during my first year of medical school, is that the sole of the foot is the thickest layer of epithelium in the human body.  The thinnest-- the eyelid and the scrotum!  link to a dermatology site showing that I remembered this correctly and so fully deserve my medical degree

Factor 3: Unstocked

I usually carry a sample sized tube of Aquaphor in my shorts every race. At 4:35 that morning, while sitting on my cot getting dressed, I applied some both sides of the base of my member, thought about stashing the tube in my pocket, but figured the aid stations would all have Vaseline, they always do at these long races, especially one as well organized as this.  So, I left it.  Whoops.  It became soon apparent during the over 7 miles of technical trail to the next aid station, that chafing (sort of like ITB pain) is relentless, progressive and cumulative. What a long, sucky 7 miles. And I had no idea how lasting the effects would be for the rest of the race.  Okay, the next few paragraphs are quite optional.

At the aid station I thought would never come, Camp Roosevelt (mile 63.1), I dumped my extra bottle, put on my headlamp, since it now clear I wouldn’t make it to my 2nd light at mile 77.1 before dark, but before any of this, asked for the Vaseline. A huge clump of it. Not quite a soothing balm. I awkwardly put more in a zip-lock bag to carry with me—a good move because Vaseline, well, melts and runs off. From here on out, I would have to interrupt my running several times each split to apply (or try to apply) Vaseline out of the bag back onto my crotch, and with less and less effectiveness as hoped.

My mantra to remember approaching each aid station:  ask for lube, ask for paper towel, ask for drop bag, refill bottle, eat.  The volunteers, as always were great, but I thanked them extra for always bringing out jar, and some paper towels.

Vaseline got everywhere.  On my hands, on my bottle.  It impregnated my shorts.  Thank my iPod for the music, or else the Stone Temple Pilot's "Vaseline," while a cool song, would have driven me nuts.

The progressive nature of the chafing problem not only existed in severity, but in spatial extent.  I was having to spread the petroleum based product not only more thickly, but over a wider area.

Played leapfrog with Chris Askew from Bend and his wife Darla, who paced him starting at mile 68.  I'd catch up on the flats, until my chafing prevented that, and they finished 45 minutes ahead of me.

Chris and Darla, after last year's Lake Sonoma 50 mile

Net loss: I estimate up to 2 hours. Going uphill hurt especially, so the friction kept me from working as hard as I could have. I imagine chafing follows he laws of physics: force equals mass times velocity squared. So the decelerating effect was proportionately greatest on the faster sections. Maybe subtract 20 minutes from the difference since slowing my pace probably did avoid some other discomfort. I think low 22’s is quite reasonable. I would’ve gotten a chance to contend for the Stonewall Jackson award (the winner came in about 22:30). But, in terms of hardware, the same silver buckle (which I was mistakenly told while the RD was absent they didn't have, so I'm getting it in person from him the next month, now in a few days.)

During the stretch from the last aid station, after leaving the single track for the 3.1 mile mostly downhill stretch to the camp entrance, my crotch was burning so much that I had to walk several times, futilely pulling out the plastic bag which was just a crumpled smear of Vaseline both on the inside and outside inside the smear of the belt pouch pocket. I wiped the bag on my crotch, probably just creating more friction. A bit frustrating given that I felt I could hammer down the road at an 8 minute per mile pace. The final 0.4 miles into the camp was not the road we used at the start, but single track. I knew I could walk it and get that damn silver 24-hour buckle, and I was pretty sure I was top 10.  The rest of my body, even the other side of my scrotum had a great time anyways.  Other races in which I was injured and faltering at mile 98, I was still determined to run through my pain if headlights appeared behind me. This time, I was skeptical I would care.  I just knew how uncomfortable things would still be even the race was over.

Garry Harrington, who set a new senior's (50+) event record this year, told me he had the same problem.  Somehow, I feel like his couldn't be as bad as mine.  Or maybe his sack is just made of a tougher fabric...

finishing the Cool Fun Run 2 months earlier

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger—but only once you’ve healed. I told Stan the next morning that if my crotch wasn’t feeling any better in 3 days, I might just well castrate myself…. Problem then solved, forever!

As it turns out, I was, more than a week out, still feeling some of the effects of that chafing, but with good lube and of course shorter mileage, enjoying my runs.

Never again.....I've got a Lube Plan for San Diego....

results and everyone's splits, including the 54 of 170 starters who DNF'd (which is useful and interesting information-- I really hate how DNF'd usually getting completely excised from the record)
race website

Garmin Forerunner recorded maps (I used three):
1st (battery ran out about a mile before the aid station)
2nd (incomplete, as I lost satellite reception for over an hour)
3rd
hike from finish to shower, thought I'd record this since it felt like a workout

Trio del Lago -- an exercise in ambulatory diagnostics

From the day we figured out my wife was pregnant at the end of last year, I was fairly skeptical that I would even get to run this year's Rio del Lago 100 mile run for the 3rd straight year. Due date: September 11th by last menstrual period, revised to the 10th with the first ultrasound. The race scheduled a mere 11 days later. Neither of our parents living locally. I signed up the last day possible for early registration using my PAUSATF discount, well aware that I might have to no-show, end my only 100-mile streak, and make a non-tax-deductible contribution to Norm Klein and his Sierra Nevada Endurance Events.

So, I would deem miraculous my appearance at Cavitt Junior High School for the pre-race briefing this last Friday, except that my pulling off running this race was eclipsed by recent prior events surrounding the birth of my second child, that were, well, as crazy as they were significant in my life. (So much so that maybe I'll blog it separately.)

My number for this year's race, as if a tribute to our 2nd child (but probably just because I came in 2nd last year)--#2.

Shortly after midnight, Sunday the 23rd, I crossed the finish line, 2nd place overall, only to Jon Olsen, who has won 3 years in a row. My time, 18:22:40, a new PR by about 6 minutes less than last year.

You'd think I was exuberant--but no. Happy yes at just starting, relieved as always at finishing, and coming in 2nd is nice. However, once it was clear that the weather was cooperating, I had a loose time goal of cutting my time by at least an hour that I very much failed to meet. Among others, the following runners were able to take advantage of the weather and improve their times significantly:

• Jon Olsen, winner, 3rd year in a row setting a new course record, this year by 59 minutes.
• Thomas Riley, 5th place, improved his time by more than 2 1/2 hours.
• Benjamin Muradyan, 12th place, improved his time by more than 3 hours.
• Nancy Warren, 4th woman, improved her time by more than 2 hours.

Therefore, I conclude that an improvement of 6 minutes really sucks, 2nd place notwithstanding.

And EZ & I know who's to blame.



However, in my job, I am trained not to jump on what seems to be the most likely cause, without at least considering other options (e.g., at least consider that maybe this woman with a probable stomach flu might actually be having a heart attack.)

In keeping with the grossness of my last post, maybe I should use the example of gastrointestinal issues as a place to start:

QUESTION: Were my bowels to blame?

ANSWER: I had to do the squat 3 times in the first 1/3 of the race. The 1st time was before
Rattlesnake Bar, when I was running with Jon Olsen, who I think actually thought I might have a chance at beating him. I was feeling pretty good, not feeling pushed beyond my capacities, when I had to do the dirty. But without trying I caught up with Jon within a few miles. Apparently, nature called him too. The 2nd time I had to go, though, I lost him. I had been telling Jon, with the cool weather, that he should go for it, and try to beat his record again. He took off shortly after the Power Plant water-only unmanned station , and then I never saw him again until he was headed in the opposite direction after the Mountain Lion Knoll turnaround at mile 83. The third of my trio came at the beginning of the Olmstead Loop at Cool (mile 30's). From all that squatting and squirting, my butt started to chafe. But I was inhibited from lubing my ass, something I've never done, neither in a race, nor a training run. Finally, I would ask the volunteers at an aid station to turn away, as I stuck a gob of Vaseline up my crack, followed by a large squirt of hand sanitizer on my hand. And, it worked! It was so nice, I repeated it later, in front of another winning set of volunteers.

Wow, a new fun thing to do on my runs!

So, NO, not my bowels.

Q: Was it winner Jon Olsen?



A: If I had actually been racing him, trying to chase him even when he accelerated, and then crashed as a result of overextending myself, then I would say yes, even though it would be all my fault. But I wasn't chasing him. The only reason I had ran with him at all was that he got lost early in the race, since he didn't have Mark Lantz doing the 53-mile run to navigate for him. Jon ran a phenomenonal race, independent of my mediocre one. So NO, no Jon!

Q: Was it the Pringles I snarfed at an early aid station?

A: So, I had grabbed a huge stack and bit into it, and then almost inhaled all these crumbs, so coughed. Coughed really hard, causing left rib pain. Pringles, by the way, are also now one of the favorite race foods of Andy Jones-Wilkins, having a great year, with at least 3 wins. But I was able to run through the pain until it resolved. So NO not PringlesNewFangledPotatoChips, even though I am STILL waiting for them to sponsor me.

Q: Was it my left calf?

A: Those familiar with my last blog entry will know that my left calf literally brought me down at my last race. Although I was able to do a 150 minute training run 6 days after Headlands 50k without any trouble, I felt my left calf start to tighten sometime after Rattlesnake Bar (mile 11). I resolved that whenever I felt even the slightest discomfort, I would STOP, and stretch it out. I had already cut 10 minutes off my splits from last year, so figured even if I spent 10 minutes stretching it 20-30 times over 100 miles, I would avert disaster. After the first half of the race, it conceded defeat and stopped bugging me. So, NO, not my left calf.

Q: Was it my right shoulder?

A: I don't know why this started hurting, but it sure did, and carrying the extra handheld bottle between Rattlesnake and Maidu (more than 9 miles without manned aid) didn't help. Maybe it was tight from 2 weeks without enjoying my Performaire mattress I won last year, instead sleeping on the floor of my toddler's room, to prevent him from waking up and demanding to come into mommy and baby brother's room (which apparently DID happen the weekend of the race, incurring domestic political fallout--thanks honey, I LOVE YOU). So, NO, not my right shoulder.

Q: Was it our new baby?

A: As I just mentioned, I've been sleeping in my toddler's room, and my wife is exclusively breast feeding, so the baby doesn't wake me up as much as my older son. How can you EVEN INSINUATE my baby is to blame? Can it not be unfair to say, he is SO-O-O DA CUTEST BABY? And he loves his Daddy!

Q: Was it the call I made to my wife on my cell phone back at Cavitt (mile 67) (i.e., the wifey call)?






A: So, RD Norm Klein has really squeezed this on for all it's worth. So I was really hoping he'd be there again, so I could call my wife and tell her how much I loved her in front of him. To my disappointment, he wasn't there.

To my even greater dismay, no one picked up the home phone. So I had to call her cell phone. Still no answer. An hour lost? Not even close. But who knows, maybe if my honey had answered, and said something original and inspiring, like "good luck, I love you. But you DO know this is your LAST 100-mile race..." then maybe I would've been able to maintain my relative pace and come under 17 hours.

But probably not.

Q: Was it the original trail-runner blogger celebrity and all-around nice guy himself Scott Dunlap? (Here in what I am guessing is a police-booking photo, used without anyone's permission)?




A: I ran with Scott, who came 1st in the 60-mile race, twice. First at the beginning. After I slowly let Jon Olsen slip away out of sight, I was hoping that someone would catch up with me from behind, so I didn't have to navigate the confusing transition to the single-track about half-way to the first aid station. Finally Julie Fingar and Scott come up and fortunately Julie, who lives in the area, knew what she was doing. Had it just been Scott, it would've been the blind leading the blind, and my responsibility since I've been on the course more times than he.

The 2nd time I caught up with him I think at Horseshoe Bar. I was surprised, since I figured he was winning his race. As it turns out (as most of your reading this already know), he was misdirected at No Hands Bridge up K-2 to Cool. Ugh, I felt his pain, although he was sporting a very good attitude. Was I so empathic that I just had to slow down myself? Probably not. I wanted him to keep up with me, but I lost him after a couple of miles. My deceleration hadn't really started yet. So, NO not Scott.

Q: Was it this woman?




A: I caught up with 53-milerFlora Krivak-Tetley as she was asking which way to go at the confusing and poorly marked transition from the single track to the fireroad maybe 2 miles from Cavitt. We ran together almost all the way in, encouraging each other, as I heard a little about the interesting developements of her life, before she sped ahead of me to the finish. I kept track of the time and calculated she would be able to come under 11 hours, and if there was something I did WELL that day, it was pacing her for this arbitrary cut-off--she finished in 10:58:35, a major PR from her 1st shot 2 years ago. Great job, Flora! It wasn't you!

Q: Was it this animal?




A: So, I was going through the flat area close to Hazel Avenue bridge (about mile 88 or 89) leading back to Nimbus Overlook, when my light shone on one of these guys, tail held high in the air. I froze. Tom Riley was coming the other way with his pacer, probably saw it earlier. But it would've been me who got sprayed. That would've literally stunk, to have to run the last 10 miles in fragrance. Plus I was sharing a suite with Joe Swenson and his wife. So, NO, thank God, not the skunk!

Q: Was it this man (photo rudely snapped without asking)?



A: As Norm pointed out before the race, if it weren't for this man, none of us would be here today. Go Gordy Ainsleigh, thank you for pioneering this fun, addictive insanity, and congratulations on a new 60-69 age-group record (26:16:32, beating the old record by almost 2 1/2 hours)! So, NO, not Gordy.

Q: Are you just making up an excuse? Okay, I'm tired of this. Just tell us.

A: Okay, sorry. This will be anticlimactic. It was my right knee. It was occasionally bothering me the last few weeks, maybe because I had to run down the last hill at Headlands 50k with bad form due to my strained calves. I first felt a mild discomfort in the first 10 miles, but there were all these other pains and distractions more prominent. The pain kept increasing, mainly on the downhills, and I noticed that I was slowing down (and not taking advantage of gravity) gradually after leaving Cavitt (mile 67) and pushing the pace to the Dam aid station, but increasingly more so with each mile. After the Mountain Lion Knoll turnaround (mile 83). I realized that my suitemate Joe Swenson was the 3rd place runner and was starting to gain on me (they said I had an hour lead at Cavitt), but I still had a 50 minute gap.



After Hazel Bluff (mile 90), I realized any downsloping was exacerbating the pain, which was anterior and right below the kneecap (patella). I kept going, as the number of runners going the other way increased. For some reason, lots of them recognized me, but I can't see faces past the headlamps, so had to ask who everyone was. My calculations showed that I'd lost the 17:30 goal a while back, but 18 hours still seemed reasonable. I lost several minutes thinking I'd missed the turn off the bike path after Negro Bar to the single-trackl, then thinking I hadn't then thinking I had, going back and forth up this slope. Finally I saw lights coming the other way. I got to the last aid station (Folsom Dam) at 11:35pm (17 hours 35 minutes) and realized 18 hours wouldn't happen. I told myself there was no award for coming under 18 hours, and just concentrated on finishing. Unfortunately, my enjoyment of the experience (I usually get a little emotional, try to let the weight of what I'm about to finish set it, enjoy the dark, really try to let soak up the whole finishing experience) was hampered by the pain. After running the first of 2 levees, I decided that preserving my knee and minimizing the damage superceded any arbitrary number, and even if I didn't PR, who cares? I started walking. I did, however, keep looking back to see if Joe Swenson's headlights would show up, in which case I would sacrifice my knee and just bolt. To save face, I jogged it into the finish chute.

Not 10 minutes later, Joe comes in, the closest gap I've had over him since the first race we both ran (Miwok 100k, 2005) and in fact ran the middle third together until I got lost. Whoa, that was close. Great run Joe! If we age-grade adjust, you slaughtered me. Twelve years older, more than 40-50 pounds heavier, less than ten minutes behind.

Well, as irritated I was at being injured, at least I got to run, managed to keep my status as bridesmaid to Olsen (click for AJW's blog posting explaining this allusion), and brought home more trophy animal statuettes to the chagrin of my wife, since she thinks we don't have space for them in our small house. (If and when I get a chance, I may add some photos of the awards and lunch here.) I would end up icing my right knee the next 4 days, watching the first 4 episodes of "The War" on PBS, realizing that in the scheme of things, having my knee screwed up, or finishing 60-90 minutes later than I should've, are, really, trivial matters; and there are a lot of things more difficult that running 100 aided miles. It is even 5 days later unclear what will happen when I resume training, or how much I will be able to recover before Firetrails 50 on October 13th.

I arrived home on Sunday shortly before the rest of my family gets back from dim sam in Frisco. My 2-year-old gets out of the car, "Were you running Daddy?" If he's angry I left him for two straight nights, he doesn't show it.
"Yes I did."
"Yay! Go Daddy!" I lift him laughing, above my head, part of my real prize.



Michael Kanning, 15, after finishing his first 100 mile run and setting a new age-group record. Link for his excellent race report on his Ultra for a Cure blog.


Women's winner Julie Fingar with Bear Trophy (sorry, out of focus, she's so fast).



Chihping Fu, before heroically (insanely) finishing his 5th 100 miler(after Tahoe, Burning River, Cascade Crest, and Wasatch) in 2 months.



Eldrith Gosney, serving lunch after pacing all morning after running herself. Eldrith gave me her hotel room Saturday night last year (I was going to sleep on the gym floor, but she said she wasn't going to use it anyways). Thanks, Eldrith! Thanks all the volunteers out there on the course for hours and hours!

photos from the run, by Alan Geraldi