While there is more challenging terrain in Oregon, the course was amazingly beautiful and still a challenge. The occasional views of Mt. Hood at the North end of the course and Mt. Jefferson to the South did not disappoint. In short, the north-south course was book-ended by these two peaks. And, the farther south we ran on the course, the more challenging the terrain. The course topped out around 5,800 feet a mile, or two, before the Breitenbush Lake Aid Station (Mile 65), which was, also, the turnaround point on the course.
The race was co-RD'd by Olga Varlamova and Mike Burke whom are both very experienced ultra runners. And, they did a fantastic job on this inaugural event. The aid stations were top notch and the volunteers were very helpful and attentive to our needs. I'm a fairly low maintenance runner, overall. Just provide me some water at aid stations and a few spots along the course for drop bags and I'm happy. And, if there happens to be ice to put in my bottles, it doesn't get much better.
Olga drove the official U-Haul truck from Portland to the race sight on Thursday afternoon, while I did my best to keep her entertained on the long drive. Beforehand, we loaded up the remainder of items in the truck with Mike after I flew into Portland that morning. In the late afternoon, we arrived at the historic Clackamass Lake Ranger Station cabin located directly across the road from the start/finish. The rustic 1933 cabin was perfect and after an early evening run with Olga and Mike, we cooked and ate dinner by the light of a few lanterns and the fireplace stove. The next morning was shockingly cold for me with frost covering the nearby meadow. The majority of the day was spent unloading the truck, stuffing packets, and greeting the runners. I began getting nervous about the race when I went back to the cabin to finalize my drop bags. The physical action of placing my drop bags in the designated area finally made the imminence of the race real. Later, on Friday evening, I managed to make a home cooked dinner for Olga and Mike, who had worked non-stop all day. It was the least I could do.
Race morning came early and I managed to make it to the start area just a few minutes before the pre-race briefing. With a kiss from Olga just a minute before the start, I headed off down the road into the dark at 5am and onto the PCT with 115+ runners.
My plan for the race was fairly simple. Run as best I could by how I felt. Also, the run would be with no pacer and no crew, which I was very comfortable with doing. I purposefully did not wear my heart rate monitor. I didn't want to feel obligated to run the race that way and didn't want to use mental energy constantly looking at my watch. A few weeks leading up to the race, I began running without the monitor and found it very liberating. It has its place in my training, but this wasn't the time. I still had the monkey on my back, although, a light one, since my DNF at Headlands over a year ago. Since I had run only one hundred before that in 2008, I wondered if I would be able to have another good run this time around. I knew my training mileage was very low with my peak week at 63 miles and 37 of those came during a weekend 60k race. I ran more miles in a week while building up to the marathon. This was the big unknown…
As soon as we entered the trail, I, immediately, noticed the trail dust floating in the beam of my headlamp. It was apparent I would be sucking in a lot of dust during the race, which is something I haven't experienced for that length of time. I reached the first aid station just under my split and kept chipping away time, based on my pace chart. After the sun rose and just two hours into the run, my hand was stung by a bee or wasp. I'm not certain which it was, but it immediately began throbbing and swelling. I was temporarily overcome with some concern, based on a runner who had died a week earlier after being stung immediately after running a marathon on the same trails. I reached the Frog Lake turnaround in good shape and ended up running a huge negative split compared to the first 14 miles. The one thing about these trails are many of the climbs are a slight uphill grade (3 to 4%). This makes the course very runnable during the early miles. But, I realized that could come back to haunt me later during a longer race such as this. Regardless, I ran uphill when I could and walked when I couldn't run up the hill. The result was reaching the 28 mile mark (Horsecamp Aid Station) over 30 minutes sooner than predicted in a time of 4 hours 38 minutes. Olga reminded me the pace chart was aggressive and to take it easy. While I heeded her words, I kept running on how I felt.
I purposefully walked for the first 10 minutes out of the aid station to let the liquids and a few of the foods I had eaten have a chance to settle. Afterwards, I continued on with the running. It wasn't too long afterwards where I came to the intersection of the Miller Trail. Based on the run I did on Thursday evening with Olga and Mike, I knew I would cross this intersection again around mile 102 and take the Miller Trail to the finish line. I was really looking forward to getting to some climbs to give my legs a chance rest and so I could get in a little more walking. I got some of that wish going up to Red Wolf Pass, but a better dose a few miles before Warm Springs Aid Station and then on to Pinheads. I kept taking my gels every 30 minutes and drinking as much as possible. The weather was absolutely gorgeous and the occasional peeks at Mt. Hood made the trails even more enjoyable. I was pleased my power walking uphill had improved. It was the first time in a race where I actually dreamed about the ups and couldn't wait until the next one came around the next bend in the trail.
For those that haven't been to the Pacific Northwest, let me just say you are missing out. This is a Paradise with a capital "P". I can't imagine what the members of the Lewis and Clark Expedition thought when they stumbled upon this land. It had to be similar to what my dear Olga experienced with tears streaming down her face as she ran along the PCT at a break neck pace the Thursday evening before the race. The spirit of the forest provided all the energy she needed to run free and fast. The old growth Douglas Fir are so tall, they seem to touch the sky. It makes one dizzy just gazing up at the tops of the trees as one runs along the trail. You could have 4 or 5 people stand around the base of a tree and they still wouldn't be able to touch hands. Simply amazing for those of us not accustomed to such gems in the forest.
I was eager to make it to the Olallie Meadows Campground (mile 55) where my drop bag was located. I intended on changing shoes at this point, but my Fireblades were working flawlessly up to this point and I didn't want to take more time that I already had refueling at the aid station. This aid station is located about 3/8's of a mile off the PCT along a trail spur. It was the busiest aid station during the race. After leaving and continuing Southward, I knew I had some climbing for the next 10 miles to Breitenbush Lake and I was looking forward to it with a smile. The trail from Olallie Lake to Breitenbush Lake was, by far, the most technical and rough trail in the race. This 6.5 mile stretch was very rocky and reminded me of Zane Grey, which is exactly what I like. It was nice to get to run on this section, since it was unique in comparison to the rest of the trail. It was along this stretch where I began seeing the leader and front runners making their way back North. There were about 6 or 7 runners within 10 minutes of the leader and that was great to see. I made it into Breitenbush Lake Aid Station (mile 65) in 13 hours and realized I was still under my pace chart by about 10 minutes. It was at this point where I thought, "only 37 more miles to go!", as I smiled. What a sick mind! This aid station is in close proximity to Mt. Jefferson and the low-angled evening sunlight covered everything in a beautiful golden hue. This place is truly special and I was happy to experience it firsthand.
I made my way out of the aid station with a determined smile and began the home stretch back toward the finish. I passed a few runners along the way and scared some on the technical downhills as I closed in on them quickly. This is the kind of trail I live for during a run. While some made their way down gingerly, I made my way down and through the rocks as quickly as my legs would let me. I made it back to my drop bag at Olallie Meadows Campground, several minutes behind my pace chart. I had planned on changing my shoes at this point, again, but I didn't want to waste more time. I knew I would pay for it later, since my shoes were full of dust, even with wearing gaiters. But, I had begun watching the clock and time was ticking. One thing I want to mention is the aid stations were top notch. They were managed by seasoned ultra runners who were very attentive to our needs. It would have been impossible to guess this was the first year for this 100. I made my way back onto the trail and headed towards home. I knew that Olga would be waiting for me at the finish and with a scant 27 miles left to go, and all I wanted was to give her a hug and kiss.
I was still several minutes above my predicted pace chart, but I just kept pushing as much as possible. By the time I made it to Lemiti Creek, I was 25 minutes off of pace and this is where I began my rally. I managed to run 37 minutes under my pace chart over the next 10 miles, somehow, managing to run sub-10 minute miles during that time. After reaching Warm Springs Meadows Aid Station, the wheels slowly came off after running to the base of the climb for Red Wolf Pass. This climb seemed to go on forever! I was never so happy to see a glow stick when I reached the eventual top of the climb, because I knew I only had 6, or so, miles left to the finish. My biggest downfall leaving Warm Springs was my lack of hydration and nutrition. I was, basically, up to 40 gels consumed and just tired of drinking water or even drink mix. Regardless, I knew I would, eventually, finish. And, finish I did. I didn't meet my time goal, but I had a fun time trying. I crossed the finish line in the light of a campfire and gave Olga a hug and a kiss. While everyone was dressed for the cold, I was wearing a cut up shirt made into a tank top and my Moeben sleeves. I wasn't cold in the least, even though Olga was concerned I should be. I guess my efforts to keep running and moving near the end kept me warm.
I didn't experience any really bad patches during the race, other than some very sore feet near the end. My feet aren't conditioned enough to wear Fireblades for 103 miles, or probably in any shoes for that matter. There was a point around mile 45 where I was beating myself up and telling myself that I am definitely not a 100 mile runner. I'd rather run the shorter distances. Eventually, those thoughts would go away. The greatest satisfaction was staying with it and finishing what I started. It's probably one of the biggest lessons for me to take into my non-running life. A lot goes through the mind during 100 miles. And, while it would have been nice to have a crew and pacer, I was happy making it through on my own and in the quietness of my own thoughts. I can't wait to do it again…
http://www.pctultra.com/100/09/2009Results.pdf
-Larry King
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment