Running With The Devil 50 mi

I love Summer running. I found this race online and just had to put it on my calendar. Temperatures were expected to top 110 F. It was a 50-mile desert race in Nevada, 30 minutes from the strip in Las Vegas, along the western shore of Lake Mead in the Mojave Desert. Although it wasn't a trail race, it was an ultra, and I was really excited about running in the heat over rolling hills. I left work at noon the day before to drive out and spend the night in the Hotel and Casino Hacienda; the host hotel. It was a long hot drive in my truck with the AC fan broken. I chalked it off as some more good training. Getting up early, I made the short drive over to the staging area in the dark and watched the sun just begin to peek over the horizon as I parked along the shoreline. Western States had been burned out, so there were several runners who made a surprise showing here, instead. Xy and Fred were two of them. It was cool to see them. They've both run Badwater before, as well, and someday, I'd like to follow in their footsteps. Joyce, the appropriate for the theme smoking hot RD, welcomed us all to her little desert run (heh heh), had us check in and weighed in, wished us luck, and with very little fanfare started what would be a fateful journey for many. I went out fast and furious. I figured I'd get as much run behind me as I could while the temperatures were still in the 80s. I love running in the heat, but that doesn't mean you make good forward progress in it. You gotta take every advantage you can when the temperatures soar. At one aid station they had a huge bathtub-like tank ready to be filled with a runner and a boat load of ice in case of a heat emergency. It was a sobering sight on the way out, to say the least. Could it get that bad? As I returned from the turnaround point I could look way ahead and see miles of road with no aid stations, but suddenly they would appear out of nowhere; always a surprise, always beyond welcome, and absolutely ice-erific! At several of them, including the turnaround point, we were weighed. Once, I weighed exactly what I did at the start and once I weighed a pound off. Then, I miraculously gained 12 pounds over just a few miles. Holy shnikees, Batman! Not to worry, it's been doing that, I was told. Wow, that's good. One can put a lot of thought into a moment when pressured to. I had horrific visions of nasty purging to get all that water and aid station junk out of my system quickly. What?! Was I having visions in the desert heat? Speaking of visions, I don't remember seeing any of those shimmering heat waves that rise up from hot pavement. I definitely felt the hot blasting midday desert wind that feels like a blow dryer in your face, though. Fortunately, the heat never really got me and I was able to hold a good pace the whole way. I actually had way more in the tank the last 10 miles than I expected I would. I was literally sprinting. I remember talking to one guy about 12 miles out from the start. He had only run marathons until then. This was his first 50 mile race. I told him very sincerely he should manage his pace and save some for the last 10 miles. He smiled and later pulled away from me like he was going to a fire; most appropriate for a Run with the Devil, one would think, but, I would see him again in a chair at an aid station around mile 30 throwing up on himself from under his big straw hat. He looked pretty rough, but then got up, said he felt great now, and off he went again. While dunking my towels in the ice bucket one last time, I looked up to see a woman in a little Toyota had pulled up and said some guy had just fallen flat on his face up around the turn. Yup, you guessed it, that's as far as he got. A guy in the aid station jumped in a vehicle to go get him. I didn't see him again after that. I had been talking to a really nice runner named Juliet since about the turnaround point. She had also left me behind for a while, but I found her hanging out in that aid station, as well. I think that aid station was there to eat runners. She also left after telling me she would see me down the road a ways. Unfortunately, just as I caught up to her, she and several others jumped into a vehicle, she hollered thanks, that the heat was just too much, and caught a ride to the finish line. The heat was taking out some otherwise great runners. The driver of that vehicle returned later and told me Juliet was feeling better and had said thanks again. This was about the time I began catching up to runners from the marathon and half marathon. Several looked at me sideways as I went by. I greeted the first few cheerfully until several looked at me less than amused. I decided not saying anything would be more appropriate. One wondered aloud why I saved so much for the second half. When I told her it was actually the last eighth, it dawned on her that I was one of the 50 milers. She expressed her amazement at how much energy I still had. I told her I was running on pure delirium. It's more painful than it looks. She laughed and actually picked up her pace a bit. That's the spirit! There are always bigger fish in the pond, do your thing, do it your way, but most important, have fun doing it. Gawd, I love spunk! She finished! I saw her afterwards with a huge smile on her face. I know that smile. I've had it. I've seen it. Go runner! Wet towels, icy water buckets, and ice-cold Coca Cola got me through this one. OK, years of running in several deserts certainly didn't hurt, either. I managed to come in second place overall. Way cool for a smokin hot run near Las Vegas, Nevada! Found out later the temperature peaked at 112 F!

Holcomb Valley 33 mi

The starting line for Holcomb Valley Trail Runs was a deja vu of last year. Hard to believe a year had passed since we last started up Cougar Crest Trail. Maybe it didn't seem so long ago because I had just come down the trail a few weeks prior on a fastpack up from Cabazon. The crowd was thick as the waves of runners were called up to start. Each wave of about 30 runners was to start a few minutes apart beginning at 7 for the 33 milers and 7:30 for the 15 milers. I was in the second wave of 33 mile runners. I saw several SCTHz at the start area. Poor Jennifer Foreman was there sans running shoes. She had somehow forgotten to pack them in the RV and was really disappointed about not being able to run the race after driving up from the San Diego 100. I try not to think too much about why anyone would be rude enough to schedule their ultra on top of someone else's practically within the distance many of the participants could run. I had originally planned to run the SD 100 in the fall. Since I'd already signed up for Holcomb, I decided to stick with it and then run AC 100 in Sept., instead. Vote with your feet I always say (pun intended). I got off to a brisk start because I knew how narrow Cougar Crest Trail would be after the first half mile. I didn't want to get stuck behind others on the way up. I knew that many would slow way down once they saw the gain of the trail and its technical nature. Next to affect many of them would be the altitude. It would irritate both them and me to have me going around them on it. Ultra runners can be cranky at times. I wanted to be a good neighbor, as well as enjoy the run myself. The real run for me would begin on the hill climb up from the city dump and continue on until we returned to this spot. I saw several other SCTHz as I crossed the highway. They were arriving for later waves. Skip was among them and we high-fived as I passed. I ran under the bridge and up the wide path to where the trail narrows and began the climb. On the way up I caught up to and passed several runners from the first wave. Dude, get off my wave. So much for positioning for minimal passing on the narrow trail. Cranking up the hill took on multiple meanings at this point. Once at the top of Cougar Crest the course takes a quick jaunt on the PCT before heading down fireroads that continue for miles before returning to it. There is a section of climb just before returning to the PCT that I remembered as being particular brutal and required me to do a lot of walking the previous year. Surprisingly, they had mellowed that section out somehow because I ran right up it. I paused just long enough at the PCT junction aid station to fill a bottle and started up to the high point of the course, although it's not quite the altitude they advertise it to be. They have somehow associated the nearby peak's elevation with the high point of the course, but one doesn't reach that peak, skirting it by a difference of a couple of hundred feet. Regardless, it's still a bit of a climb as you work your way along the PCT back towards Cougar Crest. There are fabulous views of Big Bear Lake along this part of the course. You need to be careful as you look over at it, though. There are a few roots along this part of the course that you need to be alert for. They are the same color as the dirt and easy to miss with your eyes and catch with your feet. Somewhere just past where the Cougar Crest Trail intersects the PCT I came across some people performing trail work who were using llamas to carry their supplies. It's hard to guess just what you will come across on the PCT. The one major change in the consistency of the trail can be found at about mile 20 where it literally becomes a pile of boulders with a trail carved into it. You have to be careful crossing this hundred yard section because the boulders shift and slide as you step on them. Surprisingly, this is not the section of trail I chose to fall on. After my race began at the dump, it's a long steep climb out, I began passing other runners quite solidly, until I came upon one guy. Turns out his name is Angel. He couldn't stay ahead of me, but he wouldn't let me shake him, either. We ran along like this for quite a few miles. We chatted a bit, as well. It turns out he's practically a neighbor. He lives in Moreno Valley and I live in Hemet. As we ran along towards the bottom of Cougar Crest trail and were approaching the highway I thought about how determined he seemed to be. I told him over my shoulder, dude, what say when we get to the finish we run it in together. He grunted in agreement. We got to where Cougar Crest Trail widens out and smooths out a bit, less than a mile from the finish when my feet decided to fail me. It was a head first roller. Easy enough to deal with, usually. However, I felt my left calf cramp up nicely as soon as both feet left the ground. I knew I needed to get my foot locked up against something quickly to stretch it out. Unfortunately, when I completed my roll I was lying on my back. I was writhing around trying to get my leg positioned for a stretch, groaning and growling, because that always lessens the pain, right? Angel, in good form, avoided stepping on me and returned to ask me through my theatrics if all was well. I think he may have thought I was having a seizure of some sort. I finally got over onto my belly and got the calf stretched and beginning to relax. I gave him the thumbs up and with three simple words, no hard feelings, turned and headed full bore for the finish. Since that was not in the plan, I quickly jumped up and set out in hot pursuit. I managed to close the gap he created down to about 20 yards as we crossed the finish. Unfortunately for him, his wave left before mine. My time was better. Like he said, no hard feelings. I need to run into him again and make that email exchange we talked about but forgot, not too many ultra runners out in that part of Riverside.

Shadow of the Giants 50 km

Ted Liao and I decided to carpool up to Shadow the morning of the race. His plan was to run a smooth slow pace so he would be ready for the San Diego 100 mile Endurance Run he would be taking on the following weekend. What an animal! He needs a social director to manage his race schedule. And, what a pool party it was. We slept a couple of hours at his place in Monrovia before getting up at Midnight to hit the road by 1 a.m. I actually got in an extra hour and a half of sleep while he drove. Thanks Ted. He was probably happy about this because I can be rather chatty when I'm amped up for a race. We arrived at a relatively dead looking Green Meadows, after missing the turn and driving right up to the Southern entrance of Yosemite NP, and went in to register. It wasn't long before a crowd started to form as runners and their people arrived. Baz's pre-race briefing was in his typical style; laced with humor and profanities. "Who the f... is talking while I'm talking?!" The most important pieces of information were that we had to cross snow (shh, don't tell the ranger Boo Boo), cross over a tree, cross the same creek twice, don't cross the RD, and follow orange and yellow ribbons augmented by chalk arrows at key points. How could anything go wrong? I ran with my buddies iMichelle (Michelle Barton) and Robo (Rob Cowan) for a large part of the race. We cursed the cold creek crossing, our feet were numb before we reached the far bank (yeah, it was that cold), and laughed our way over the tree. Although, it was more like 2 huge trees lying side by side across the fireroad with no way to get around them. At some point we ended up following orange ribbons out into some deep scrubby bushes and something that resembled a brand new trail rather than something we would have expected from Baz. This was the something go wrong part. It had to be wrong, so back we went to figure out where we had gone astray. It turned out to be a 9:04 minute, half-mile extracurricular excursion off course. Wouldn't you know, this happened to Michelle in this race last year, as well. Each person we passed for the next half hour asked the same question, are you the guys that got off course? I wonder how they all knew? If they saw us go off course, that's yelling distance, no? So, why didn't they yell at us? It wasn't like they were within talking distance of each other, either. So, is there some secret ultra-runner mind-meld thread that provides one with the latest gossip of the course that I'm not aware of? I need to sign up for this. Once we were most assuredly back on course, I picked up my pace a bit to make up for lost time. After a few miles iMichelle caught up and we ran together again for a few miles until she moved on ahead and disappeared. Little did I know, but Robo was waiting for the right moment to move in on me. Rob is an incredible runner. His race schedule is also unreal. I need to make mine look more like his :)
It was about the time we returned to the tree crossing. It would prove to be a little tougher to get over than previously. I basically rolled over the two pieces instead of trying to climb over them. Robo hopped over them like they were simply branches lying across the trail. With that, I knew that he would take me out in the last 5 miles. I was just going to have to do what I could to keep that time between us to a minimum :) One more mile of uphill and I was really looking forward to the final 4 miles of relentless downhill. I couldn't walk, I knew that it would increase the time between us by too much. I was maintaining a 10 min/mile pace on the uphill part and slide to an 7:30 min/mile pace on the downhill part. Rob must have been flying at this point. He crossed the finish line 8 minutes ahead. The course is beautiful. No one particular place stands out, though. There are no individual fabulous vista points along the way. There are Redwood trees to entertain and delight you. If you've never seen one they might actually be a distraction for you, if you're really wanting to focus on your running. Being a California resident and getting out on the trails a lot, I've seen my share. I simply spent the morning enjoying the whole ambiance of the place and the time spent with some good running buddies. Thanks Rob and Michelle; not only for being such cool people, but for being so inspirational. And thanks Ted for a great trip!