Capitol Peaked

This year I am mostly focusing on the Oregon Trail Series Races, because they are (relatively) close to home. Also, even though there are tons of awesome ultra-runners in Oregon, the stud-women all have bigger fish to fry (like 100K World Cup and winning prestigious 100 milers) and don't pay any attention to the OTS, which means I stand a good chance of being competitive in the series. Points for the series are multiplied by the number of miles in each race, so it doesn't exactly take a genius to figure out that you need to run the long races to do well. That boils down to the PCT50 and Where's Waldo. But sometime in March I decided I should complete a 50 miler before trying to race a 50 miler and so I signed up for Capitol Peak.

I billed Capitol Peak as an "accomplishment run" and repeatedly tried to enforce the notion that I wasn't out there to race. Just get it done. It seemed simple enough.

I took the first 19 mile loop very easy and had the pleasure of running most of it with other people, which is rare for me; I always seem to be on the trail by myself. I was strong on the 5.5 mile climb up to Capitol Peak and even ran quite a bit of it. In fact I was passing people! And I made good time on the little loop up to the peak. I hit the top third for the women, behind super-star Jenny Capel, who went on to win the 50 mile, and just a couple minutes behind Alison Hank, who was out for a shorter day, winning the 55k.

As I came down from the peak, I got back on to the dirt road and there in front of me was a huge white arrow pointing to the right. That didn't seem right since I could see the parking lot straight ahead and thought the aid station must be right next to that, but how could I ignore this gigantic trail marker? I look where it is pointing and see two runners ahead and one of them is a woman! Aha - that must be the right direction and I think I can catch that girl! I run down the road, and something does NOT feel right. Where is the AS? I catch the girl and ask her where the aid station is - she says we just loop up the trail and then drop down to the AS. Sounds good so I keep running. Then I pass a sign that looks eerily familiar. "Well, they probably just made two of the same signs," I tell myself. But on the trail I cross a snow patch and now I am almost certain I am retracing my steps. A few feet farther and I see bricks that I had noted on my first time up. Now I know exactly what has happened: That big arrow was for the people coming UP the mountain; on the way down you just cross the parking lot to the Aid station. You had to be a complete dumb-ass to screw that up. So my only explanation is that I am a dumb-ass!

Normally, I would say that I am good at following directions and maps. Directions are so logical and orderly - things I thrive on. There is no room for creativity with directions, which is good because I don't have much creativity. But now I have gotten lost in two consecutive races. That just seems like poor sense of direction and poor common sense!


By the time I got back on track I had traveled an extra three miles. When the AS captain asked if I was continuing on to do the 50 mile or going with the 55k, I let my anger and frustration make a bad decision for me. "I am just going to go straight down," I told her and so opted for the 55k.
(photos by Glenn Tachiyama)

On the way down the hill, I was surprised how slowly I was going. Gravity didn't seem to have its normal pull. "I am really tired," I reasoned, "good thing I decided to call it a day." But when I got to the finish, I didn't really feel so spent after all. I stayed around the finish long enough to see 11+ hour runners coming in and I felt ashamed: even with my detour I would have been done way ahead of this. These people had true guts, and for them there was glory. I had no glory, just a mug (age group win in the 55k - blah!). If I am being honest, I have to say, I got scared. That was the heart of the matter. Not being tired, not being frustrated. At that point 23 miles seemed like a really long way to go and so I just chickened out.

The application for Western States 100 mile run says: "Running Western States hurts for a few days; getting a ride back from an aide station hurts all year." Fortunately, this wasn't as big as Western States, but it was a great illustration of the message.

Some good did come of this. I felt good after 35 miles and I know I can do 50 now. That should take away the fear factor for next time. Plus, I will be damn committed to finishing what I start from now on, because now I know how much quitting stings. It wasn't a great day of accomplishment for me, as I had hoped, but it was a great day of personal growth.

The Rumble Race Report

I would have liked to title this entry "The Rumble Of The Rookies And The Showdown Of the Smiths," but I think that would be an egregious overstatement of my proximity to the eventual winner, Caitlin Smith. So instead, I just have "the Rumble Race Report" :

Sunday dawned clear and cold, shivering-my-butt-off cold. At the start I was on the back of a small pack, including two other women, Caitlin and Jenn Shelton. There really weren't any other women around by the time we turned on to the trail. Jenn stopped at the first Aid Station, and Caitlin pulled ahead and just kept up an impressive power chug up to the top. In fact, the only time I was able to catch up to her at all was when she stopped to pee and when she was (wisely) more tentative than me on the very slick ice fields. As long as she was running, I didn't have a chance. Too bad for me there wasn't a hell of a lot more ice on the trails! ;) I fared pretty well on the wide flat section, but on the downhill trail, Caitlin was off in front once again. I was picking my way down a bit more gingerly, but still managed to take a major digger. I went down hard, but I did a really awesome job of protecting my worthless hands by landing on my knee, chest and shoulder - aaargh! I got up and seemed to be ok as I made my way into AS5 (~20 miles).

I knew I wasn't going to catch Caitlin so I eased up a little on the road stretch but then really started feeling tired as the course started going back up. Near the first plateau, I just kept moving along the road when I come to a T-intersection and nothing is marked. I turn to the right and after about a minute I see this road turns into a driveway for a horse ranch. Hmmm - that doesn't seem right. I start walking back, waiting for someone else to come by. About 30 seconds later there is another runner on the road and he is not really happy that I don't know where I am going; obviously, he was following me. He walks down the other way of the intersection and I notice a little trail coming off that road so I walk down it for 30 seconds or so. I still don't see any markers and I know this has been a very well-marked course. Finally, I tell the guy I am going back the way I came. We jog back for just over a minute and then I see a runner on the other side of the creek and figured we must have to cross it. I go over to the bank and look for a way to jump across and not ten feet from where I am standing is a plank walk-way over the creek with a yellow course market ribbon hanging above it, as clear as day, but I had missed it nonetheless. It felt like we were lost for an eternity, but I think it was really only like 6 or 7 minutes.

Back on course, I could see three early start runners that I had already passed that had passed me back on my "detour." I was sure this meant the third place woman had passed me, too, since we had all been pretty close earlier on. I started running thinking maybe I could catch her again, but a few minutes later I was on my face again. It wasn't a bad fall at all, but I just kind of mentally lost it. I kind of remember thinking,"Whatever - third place is fine" and I just started walking. At one point the words "Disaster of epic proportion" popped into my head. A little melodramatic and certainly not my finest moment! After five minutes or so the trail seemed to be approaching the top and I started jogging again as it flattened out.

At the penultimate aide station I took an S-cap, a GU, and a handful of food. I was especially delighted by the pink marshmellow chicks, which seemed amusing and festive, right when I needed a little spirit boost. I think that all did the trick, because I started feeling better and was able to run OK.
(photo by Glen Tachiyama)

Coming into the last Aid Station, they were all business: "What's your name? What's your number?" I thought about asking them what place I was in, but I was actually worried that they would tell me I wasn't even in third any more, so I just kept running. The prospect of the finish line was obviously a motivation to my weary body as I managed around 8:10 pace for the last four miles. When I got to the finish (5:02:27), a couple of guys congratulated me and asked me what place I got. I was serious when I said I didn't know! Turns out I was second; I hadn't gotten passed on my detour after all. And even better - there was plenty of warm sun to lay around in after the race!

My goal was to finish under 5 hours, which I missed by 2+ minutes, but from this side of the finish line, I don't think I'd dub it a "Disaster Of Epic Proportions". I had a bit of a rough patch in the middle, but the day was gorgeous, the people were friendly and the race was well organized. I am looking forward to more Oregon Trail Series Events.

Return to Self

Aaaah - just a day of rest (ok maybe two if you count those pathetic three miles on Thursday) and everything feels so good again.

I went to meet the gang at the Governor's Cup this morning and was surprised to see such a big turn-out. I guess with the onset of spring, runners are coming out of hibernation. There were Saturdays in December where we only had four of five people!

I was ready for a nice easy long run, but Gordon says he and Terra were thinking about doing 3x15 tempo at 6:50. Whoa - that's way too fast for me today I tell him. "What do you mean? That's marathon pace." None of us are sub-three hour marathon runners, so I am not sure who's marathon pace he is talking about! No thanks, I tell him.

Well, fast Francis says he doesn't want any of that either; he was thinking hills. So I head out with Francis, the one guy who is a sub-three hour marathon runner. We do 45 minutes of hilly stuff ending with an ascent up Croissan Mountain (maybe that should be Croissan "Mountain" since it is only 665 ft elevation). And then we coast down to finish with a big loop in Minto-Brown - throwing in a couple of 6:55-7:00 minute miles in the flat section and then finished a bit slower for 17.75 miles in 2:14 (7:36). I joked that we did hills and tempo. But most importantly, I just felt GOOD. Running was easy and light and fun. I was floating and gliding and just feeling smooth - a total 180 from two days ago when I was miserable doing three easy miles.

It certainly underscores the importance of rest. I think I sometimes get caught up in what other people are doing instead of just focusing on my own thing and that doesn't serve any good purpose. I keep reading about all these guys doing 100+ mile weeks and thinking I am barely doing enough to get in 70 miles a week. It is good to remind myself that 70 miles a week is pretty extreme for me. I've been running for 20 years and up until 2009 I had never done even a 60 mile week. Despite striving for higher mileage, I think I have learned sometimes the best thing you can do is to not work out at all.

Losing My Mojo

Monday I was feeling so good and blabbing about my 162 miles in 16 days. That afternoon I did 8.5 miles with 5 miles tempo (6:33 pace) and was amazed that I felt great at the end of it. Tuesday was 9.5 easy miles, Wednesday was a six mile run with 15 hard minutes in the middle (about 6:40 with slight hills) and then kaploo-ey...the magic was gone. Thursday morning I couldn't run because of an early morning work meeting. So Thursday night I decided to hit the treadmill - every step was a chore and I was running very easy warm-up pace. Instead of a brief pause to kiss my daughter goodnight, I called it a night for a grand total of 3 miles! All day today I have been planning to run, but I haven't actually done it. There's nothing standing in my way, but I just can't get in to it. I figure I deserve a rest after 18 days of running and I think my body is telling me I need it, too! I guess my body is still adjusting to the new high mileage weeks, but I think with a little rest I will be feeling zippy again.

Sponsorship

Last Wednesday when I showed up at the local running store for the organized evening workout, the owner was directing people down to the basement. I looked at him quizzically, but he assured me that I was suposed to descend into the store's bowels as well. Waiting beneath were complete outfits (donated by Nike) for running: a bra-top (singlets for the guys), shorts and a rain jacket. The price tags totalled to $200 (though not sure anyone would ever pay that much, especially with the Nike outlet so close!). I have won a few free things before, but mostly I get my running gear the old fashioned way: with my credit card! For a bit it almost felt like being a sponsored elite athlete - it was really quite fun. The bra-top and shorts are quite 'racy' - they certainly make me look like a serious runner. Plus, I think the only matching top and shorts I have ever had were school track uniforms. So I guess now I have to run like a serious runner, if I am going to wear serious runner gear!

If nothing else, I think I have been training fairly seriously: I've put in 162 miles in the last 16 days. My training still suffers from lack of a plan. Mostly, I try to fit my miles in around the social running activities (since that is about all I do socialize - ha!). Tuesday and Thursday mornings we have a die-hard group of four meeting at 5 am for about ten easy miles before work. Saturdays I am doing my long runs with a local running group (including my die-hard buddies). And Wednesday there is the organized group run at the running store. So I am trying to add a bit more "quality" on Mondays and Fridays, with a Monday tempo and a Friday hillworkout, but I am definitely still trying to get it all figured out.

I do find that as I ramp up the miles and workouts, that I am now even a bit evasive with other runners as to what I am doing. People training for marathons often comment how non-runners don't get what they are doing or why they would want to run so far and so they tend not to reveal all of their training plans to the non-runners. But I find I am now doing that even with other runners! Pretty much everyone I run with is a marathon (or less) kind of runner and they are a bit skeptical of going beyond 26.2. And so I sheepishly admit things like running a one mile loop 42 times, doing 70 mile weeks, and killing myself with hills the day before my long run - in fact, mostly I try not to admit to these things at all unless asked! I can't get ostracized from my group or I might miss out on more free stuff!

Ultra-runner Feet

Earlier this month, my friend invited me to get a pedicure with her. I hemmed and hawed for quite a bit. The idea of a pedicure sounded great, but I really didn't want somebody closely inspecting my toenails, for the fact is, I don't even have a full set. Yes, I am a chronic toenail loser. This is to be distinguished from the acute toenail loser, who has toenails floating in their socks by the end of the race. For me, my toenails feel a little swollen at the end of the race and then a couple months later, they fall off. This year, I am wearing a half-size bigger shoes, thinner moisture wicking socks, and a lot more body glide to curtail the problem (I think with some success), but my toenails still bear their brutal badge from last year's CIM. In fact, one had just completely dislodged, leaving me with an empty nail bed (ugly, but not painful).

And so I told my friend I didn't think I'd be able to join her for the spa-pedi. But she didn't let me off so easy: "I am sure they see lots of ugly feet. And I am sure it is better than foot fungus." And so I agreed to go.

The pedicurist had a few baffled looks at my feet and then finally asked me what I wanted him to do with the empty nailbed. "Just paint it. Do whatever you can, but don't worry about it."

The pedicure was a nice luxury and by the end, my feet no longer looked like ultra-runner feet!

Getting Cheated at the Champoeg 30K

Today's venture took me to Champoeg State Park, for the annual 30K. These days 30k sounds like a short race to me, but as far as I know, it's the longest you can find this month in Oregon. Plus, I don't want my speedier muscle fibers to atrophy too much with all this long, slow distance running. ;)

I ran this race one other time, back in 2002 in 2:13:30 - so I knew what I was aiming for. I think I was speedier then, but in better shape now. But at the start of the race we were informed that a big tree fell across the course and the course had to be re-routed as best as possible. The RD warned us that with limited bike path options, the new course came up short - probably only 5.9 miles per lap instead of 6.2. The 10k-ers all joked about setting new PR's.

The three laps were pretty steady without much of a race - I was solidly in second place for the whole thing, with a former Olympic marathon trials qualifier easily out in front and the third place woman several minutes back. And with the new course, I really couldn't even race myself and compare to my previous time. I finished in 2:03:30, which even with another mile should have put me ahead of my 2002 time. Based on my splits, I think the 5.9 may have been a little generous (my last "mile" on each lap was more like .8 of my other splits), but two people with GPS's said they got over 18 miles for the course (but not near 18.6 as it should have been) so maybe the mile marker was off just a bit.

By the last four miles the rain was coming down HARD and I was completely soaked through and a lot colder than I wanted to be, so by the end of the race I really didn't care if we were only running 28 or 29K! My original plan was to run one extra loop at an easy pace to get in some extra mileage, but even with a dry shirt and sweat pants I was still freezing and the rain was still coming down pretty hard, so I just called it a day. I basically chugged two cups of soup and chatted for ten minutes and then I was out of there. Fortunately, the awards were just ribbons so I didn't have to feel to bad for missing the ceremony. I got home and took a super hot bath (don't tell me about ice baths!) which finally got me warmed up!

photos (for the time being): http://conaghan.smugmug.com/keyword/champoeg+09-256#487033388_xYgyp

I've got four more weeks before the first "real" race this year, Peterson Ridge Rumble 60k. I am really looking forward to it - I am not sure I like running fast any more!