Thursday, August 5, 2010

Wasatch Speedgoat 50K in a few easy steps

I read a few blog accounts of Speedgoat 50k 2010 which painted so dark a picture of a sufferfest complete with blood and vomit, loosing the track and hitting the wall, and so on ... that I decided that I gotta write my story too. No blood and gore, all champagne and girls and wildflowers. I would rate it the easiest of my 50k's (although I've only ran 2 others before), and also the one with the fastest time (still a not-too-braggable 9:31). The secret trick is to take it easy, to resist a temptation to race, and to have fun.

Actually my true marching orders have been, no injuries and no blisters. Not a week after the Speedgoat, Irene and myself are going to San Francisco for 4 nights of dancing at the Antipanico Tango Fest, that's not enough time to heal the battle wounds, so they shouldn't be any.

The night before the race we danced at Diane Cliff's. Tango and some riesling loading have always been my fav ways to prepare for a long day in the mountains, but some sleep wouldn't hurt too. So I was really glad when we left the milonga just before midnight - that would mean four hours of sleep and a change, not too bad.

I woke up a few minutes before the alarm, filled a thermos with strong hot tea for the road, kissed Irene and drove off. Too short a drive to finish all the tea so I wandered into Creekside terrace still with a steaming mug in hand. A few minutes loitering about the spruces and we were off up Big Emma, then down the gentle zigzags of a singletrack towards the tram base, and up again to the old Peruvian. All in the blissful morning shade.


A few seconds of sunshine near mid-Gad's and back into the morning shadows, hissops, while columbines, ruddy indian paintbrushes. The last downhill in Gad Valley and then it was all up up up to Hidden Peak, even with a short section across a snowfield. Never in a hurry, never hesitant to walk uphill, but I was still surprised to find out that it took me 2:20 to get to the first aid station there. I kind of expected under-two. And 11 hours for the whole course. You see the point already? Slow start grows into a faster finish.

Salt caps, PB&J, little banter, off to Baldy. I packed plenty of Cliff Cubes but I liked the offerings of the aid stations and ended up sharing the magic little cubes with fellow runners, and still keeping some for the tango marathon nights of the Antipanico. My drop bag had Irene's camelback with homebrew ice tea, I was kind of hesitant to use it instead of bottles, but it let me drink a lot especially on the downhills - and it probably scared several aid station volunteers who didn't expect to see the brown tea foam inside :)

Now it was in the Sun, but breezy. Nice views from the ridge in all directions. A quick ascent to Baldy and then a surprisingly steep drop - two fixed ropes and observers there, but the obstacle felt amusing rather than dangerous. I was pleased to note how well my torn-up Montrail Sabinos held on the gravel.



And off to the Larry's Hole at the bottom of Mineral Basin we went, a deeply eroded track amidst the richness of lupins and indian paintbrush. I was keeping the pace deliberately slower, running down the deep ruts felt like a high-risk undertaking for the ankles, and still reached Larry's Hole in a nick of time. But not before stopping at the creek to wash off the salt and the grime. It was getting hot by now.

The station, described as a water-only, had a rich assortment of goodies; these will be supplemented by Cook Spumante and chocolate-covered strawberries by the time we'll be back from the Pacific Mine loop, not too bad, huh? From Phil Lowry's old course maps I kind of expected to continue down the drainage, but no, it was cutting straight up through the evergreens to Sinner's Pass. They warned us at the station that it will be 6 miles and 2,000 ft down till the next water ... I thought it was preposterous but over Sinner's to Mary Ellen ... well at least the elevation drop must be right.

I've been in Upper Mary Ellen Gulch a few times before, a beautiful wide open bowl. Not down the gulch though. It didn't look as appealing with over a mile of
bouldery jeep rut. Once again, no injury was the order of the day, and I slowed down, chatted about things and how our perspectives looked for beating the time cutoff at the Tunnel. It actually didn't look that bad even with the pace being as slow as we went. Just barely 10 am. Of course it's gonna be a serious business regaining the next 5,000 or so ft of vertical.

As the course approached Am Fk, the grade eased and the track softened, it was a pretty nice run despite the now-blazing Sun. Stopped for a moment at a tiny spring to wash off some more salt crust, and reached the Pac Mine aid station 10:40ish. Actually the last few hundred ft to the station have been a drag, the spotter at the intersection told us that it was half-mile away and it may have really been ... maybe 3/4? Big deal you say, but it's all about reality vs. expectation :) I hoped to reach this spot (about mid-course) at 10:30, so far so good.

Pacific Mine was a truly 5-star aid station. Boiled taters with coarse salt and hot chicken soup, who could argue that? I was swallowing saltstick caps by ones
and twos all along the way, but a bit more of tasty electrolytes is even better. Leaving this hospitable little spot, I picked a popsicle and ambled along
the road with it. In the game of race priorities, lickin' a popsicle beats panting and sweating. This was the infamous supposedly-half-mile where the "in" and "out" tracks followed the same jeep road, so we had two way traffic, and quite a few runners wanted to know how far the %$$# station was. I'd just say, "about half a popsicle worth at my pace".

Now the real test of my stamina, the sweaty uphill to Miller Hill. Not too rocky, with plentiful shade, and sometimes gentle enough to make me think about running it, only I usually swept these untimely thoughts away. Kept the strides longer though. The hills behind receded lower and lower, the beautiful meadows opened up, and I
couldn't resist temptation to spend a few minutes by a spring. Another salt crust wash-off, plus some Cliff Cubes to sweeten the life. And here comes the top of the hill and its goat lair, the only place which smelled of real goats on this goat-race. It's been just over an hour after the uphill started, and possibly 2500 ft gained with a lot of sweat but no blood nor pain. For the first time I was starting to feel good about my chances to finish this race. Called Irene & said I may be back 6ish. And started galloping down to Sinner's and Larry's hole a tad more recklessly than I allowed myself so far.

!2:30, back at Larry's. A sip of champagne, I think well deserved. What's better to wash down the chocolate strawberries with, anyway? They say it's 2 miles
to the Tunnel. Probably more like 2.8, on the wide open meadows facing South in full Sun, and 2,000 ft gain, possibly with a change. Feels pretty good actually
given that the cutoff time is 3 pm. I was feeling really energized by my better-than-expected uphill pace on the 2nd climb to Bullion Divide, but of course I knew that there will be at least one more big hill out of Peruvian. Still couldn't resist running a few gentler sections of this picture-perfect singletrack. Another stop at a
burbling creek beneath a snowfield, and on to the Tunnel.



It took less than an hour from Larry's Hole and I was starting to think that I might finish sub-10. Maybe even under 9:30. My two times at MC50 were both over 10, with less altitude to gain and more forgiving temperatures, what gives.

Anyway I started thinking about the result but not obsessively enough not to take another popsicle stroll through the tunnel and down the first couple of switchbacks of Peruvian. A few more switchbacks at a nice pace, trusting the traction, overtaking the few people who got ahead of me during my leisurely popsicle stroll.... OK maybe a few switchbacks too many? I was pretty much sure that we'd take the Ridge Trail and I could see it cutting through the meadow to the limber pines of the ridgeline ... ahead of me ... and to the side ... and now behind ... enough maybe? The course finally turned West just shy of the old Peruvian lifthouse, that's probably not quite another 2,000 to gain but could be close. Oh well. Sub-9:30 finish still, anyone?

The uphill was dragging on slower than before, but not too bad really. The meadow was fairly tale pretty, all delicate wild flax, trembling in the light breeze,
dropping its fleeting celestial blue petals onto the trail. Up on the ridge the breeze picked up, the views of American Fork Twins were spectacular, but I should say that the sight of tiny human ants silhouetted against the sky ahead was a bit intimidating. I couldn't drink from the camelback without loosing breath on this uphill section, and had to stop once for a hydration / Cliff Cube break, the first such forced break between the aid stations. Still the muscles weren't really seizing up yet, and the peak was in sight.

Of course just about then, the course turned away from the peak, and my fellow runners started musing about what kinds of bodily damage then wanted
to inflict on Karl. I remembered some wide loops around the Mineral basin slope I saw on Phil's maps, and cringed, but this course year's had none of
this extreme psychological torture. Cuz not a minute later, the descent was over & we resumed a climb. About quarter to 3 I got to the Hidden Peak aid station for the 2nd time today, and once I realized that the distance from the Tunnel to here must have been over 5 miles, I stopped feeling bad about the pace.

So you mean that's only about 5 miles left to finish, and probably very few uphills? I had just over an hour if I still hoped to finish under 9:30, and it didn't feel
like a stretch. Of course past the Road to Provo the trail went meandering in the boulders with occasional snow and primrose patches, and my pace must have been a joke. Still I overtook a few runners here, and as the track got better, I kept running in a homestretch aura. Maybe a tad too early, maybe I should have conserved a bit of energy here & kept drinking more, because when the finish line was in sight & Karl's usual evil loops around it started, I couldn't keep pace anymore. The uphills, meager as they were, had to be walked. 9:31 then. Still an surprising improvement from my 10:30+ results @ MC50s.

No injuries, no blisters, no falls, no problems walking up the stairs. Or down for that matter. No stomach churning after a slice of pizza and a can of beer (thanks guys). Not after the seconds either. OK I'm starting to see the magic mantra, "Hurry up s-l-o-w-l-y"

And BTW my 104th finish turned out to be a prize winning place too, thanks to Karl's crazy ruffle :) What a day! I still got to run with the dogs later in the evening, but they didn't mind my being really slow on the uphills :)

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Muddy, misty fun on BST - 4/25/09

This was my 3rd year of participation in Bonneville Shoreline Trail Marathon aka "Bosho", a beautiful course in the foothills on the NE edge of Salt Lake valley with approximately 6,000 (some say it's closer to 7,000 ft?) elevation gains. But this time it was coming on the heels of a Puerto Rico spring break vacation which saddled me with like 7 or 8 extra pounds. So I didn't count on much. Still it's a great way to kick start the season & to enjoy the glacier lillies and yellowbells of the foothills!
Yellowbell: Fritillaria pudica

So I figured, it may take me twice as much time to finish the 2nd loop as it takes to complete the first. So if I just happen to finish the first 11-miler under 2.5 hours, then I would go on to the 2nd loop. If it's any slower, then I'd bail. The weather at least was supposed to be cool, like 50s at most, clouds and rain. That would be just right for me. Beyond the 60s and in the Sun, I'd succumb to the heat too quickly.

It rained all night but stopped in the morning. The hills were covered with the mist. The foothill prairie was unbelievably green, and the trail went into and out of puddles. Like we aren't in Utah! The first tricky slippery sections of mud were already there on the way down to City Creek, and on the other side it's got really gooey - the way it will remain on good 20% of the course today. I joked that it was like skiing of sorts. -Like UPHILL skiing, commented a fellow runner. Right, exactly. I am no stranger to that. I wasn't looking forward to faceplants in the mud ... not yet, at least :) ... so I kept the pace down in the most slippery spots.

City Creek valley below was so beautiful with the shreds of mist clinging behind green subridges. The downtown was melting into the fog - and so did the ridge of the antennas above. 3 deer raced along on the slopes of Ensign, and I could see the lead pack of the runners on the undulating trail ahead, but the ridgelines remained invisible. Next we were in the fog, too, making me worry about missing the Monument Peak turnoff.

But there it was, the steepest uphill section of the first 11-miler loop, up and up towards the invisible goal. I chuckled that it may be easier this time, now that we don't see how far is the top of this thing. Finally we were on the yellowbell meadows. No views around from this high ridge today, but I was pleased enough to see these modest spring flowers underfoot. The species name, pudica, is Latin for modest :)

The moment I crossed the ridge and started down the pipeline, the mist cleared, and I could see the start line way down below. Not my favorite section, this pipeline ... especially in this direction. Steep and rocky, then steep and gooey. I let several runners overtake me here, even some who I passed on the uphill of Monument Ridge. OK, the hard parts are over, just a little uphill from City Creek back to the East bench and - the time was like 2:26. Sounds like I gotta keep going, then?

The uphill to the start of singletrack traverse around Avenues Twins wasn't steep, but all I could do is walk ... still at a good satisfying pace. Once it levelled, it was a nice relaxing run all the way into Dry Fork. It didn't feel like much work and yet I was moving faster than the twice-the-first-loop-time prediction would have it. But of course there were major uphills ahead! In Dry Fork, the fastest runners were already on the way back to the finish line (this was one of the very few sections where the "fwd" and "rev" tracks overlapped). It was nice to exchange hoots and thumbs-up with them ... an understated version of spectator-support at work :)

A pleasant surprise at Huntsmans Cancer Institute support station! There was The Old Grizz, who jokingky refused to give me a hug, like, too much hair and mud on my body (I was running shirtless of course). Grizz told me that I was making good time, and I think it was true ... not merely an empty encouragement. I would so much prefer to see him on the trail, but if it just doesn't work for the beat up knees anymore, then I really gotta respect the willpower it takes to shake off the Runners High addiction. Best of luck on your bike, Grizz!

The Southern-most loop of the track zigzagged around Red Butte and returned to the aid station in less than 4 miles. I guess I just should have left the pack at the station, I never did use anything in the pack except for a couple pills of ibuprofen ... not even the water. But hindsight is 20/20. Now it was all the familiar tracks near my workplace. Traversing the lower slopes of Van Cott, crossing Red Butte Creek on the Stony Steps Bridge, and a gentle uphill to the ridge below The Furniture ... which felt surprisingly long and tough, this being the 19th mile of the run.

Down Georges Hollow to the pipeline and back to Huntsman's ... the route didn't deviate from the traditional track an iota, which meant that we had to cross the Natural History Museum construction site with all its mud. Ahh, what is a good run without a wee bit of tresspassing?

Back at the support station, the mood was turning festive homestretch. There is this huge mountain to cross ahead, or a little pesky hill, whichever way you call it. Been there before. Of course this time around, I resorted to walking up Deer Creek. And I had a feeling that I was DFL at this section. Where the Bonneville Shoreline Trail took a hairpin turn left and out of the drainage, our track coninued NNE along a faint gully-bottom trail, which was mostly submerged in a brook now. The people ahead of me either tried to straddle the creek whenever possible, or to cling to one bank when not. But being a tad crazy about a good splash, I didn't get out of the creekbed much. "Somebody up ahead forgot to turn on the hot water faucet", all I had to say to people I overtook there. Finally the trail exited to the left and hit the lower ridge of Black Mountain in ... ahem ... three easy uphills. The whole legendary climb barely took a dozen minutes if I recall it right, but it sure felt like work. Up on the ridge, I had nine people behind me at last. Of course half of them overtook me again as I hobbled down to the finish line, about two miles away now (actually from the race results I later learned that there were half dozen more racers further behind).

North wind was blasting the ridgeline track, and my fingertips were getting numb, but I had a little ambitious goal now, to finish under 7 hours. Yes you may laugh, but to everyone, one's own ambition. So I didn't stop to put on the darn shirt. At the BST junction where I've been nearly 4 hours earlier, the return track was marked to the right. Surprise surprise! A few uphills ahead! But it was a true homestretch all the same. A dog owner asked me, where did we start? "From the reservoir right there". Less than a mile away? I guess it really didn't explain our tattered look :)

The obligatory 0.2 miles beyond the two loops' combined 26 was down the sidewalk. Let's see. No blisters. No falls. No strained joints. 6:54. Not bad really!

For a moment I thought that the hardest part of the weekend will be walking this sidewalk back to the parked car. Or will it be dancing? We got two back-to-back milongas in the run up to UTango Festival, 6 weeks from now. Gotta wash off the caked mud, shave, and dance.
And then it was the milonga time... Rose Sachs Gardens, 4/26/09

Monday, April 20, 2009

Kletting Peak


Got a window of sunny skies right on the approaches to the peak, almost 7 hours and 12+ miles after we started from Bear River TH. On the saddle between A1 and Kletting, the rime-flowers blossom, untouched by the heat of the Sun;
The summit ahead with barely 500 ft left to gain;
And descent into Hell Hole
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Thursday, February 26, 2009

This newfangled thing...

blogging ... everybody and their mother in law is doing it now. Gotta see how it works. Give me some tome to work out the kinks. In the meantime it has been dubbed HABEPX - that's actually pronounced "Nuh-VEhRKh" or maybe somesuch way. The meaning is "upwards" BTW.