Sequoia 50k Race Report - An Interview with...Me!

Saturday I joined a few hundred runners for the Pacific Coast Trail Runs Sequoia 50k. There were only 60 or 70 of us signed up to run the 50k with the rest of the folks there ready to tackle the trails for 10k, 20k and 30k distances. I have a tendency to go on a bit on my post-race reports, so I thought the best way to keep this one in check and yet still convey my thoughts on the day would be to do a total ego-power play and interview myself. I avoided complete 3rd person references, however. So here goes…

Q. First things first, did you win?
A. I love this question! It’s the first thing my kids ask me, as well as friends, family, neighbors. I haven’t outright won a race since claiming victory in the Indian Hills fun run back in 5th grade. Wait, actually Kregg Chidester won that race, I finished second. OK, I’ve never won a race but I did finish in a respectable 15th place overall, my highest finish to date in an ultra. I actually spent a good 30 minutes thinking I finished 10th, I even called my wife and told her I was top 10. She sounded so impressed! She quickly relayed the news to friends and neighbors. Finally on the ride home, I carpooled with a group of ultra runners, including 2nd overall female finisher Monica Moore, the man who got me into ultra running, Jeffery Johnston, high school 30k phenom Kevin Wells and mother-of-two-tiny-kids-yet-still-managed-to-run-50k Terry Kalb, I confessed my confessions to my wife of finishing 10th. I was debating on whether or not I had to tell her that I really finished 15th. The word “blackmail” was loosely thrown around and I knew I had to fess up and did so several hours after I got home after shortly basking in my new found (yet undeserved) status as a top-10 finisher.

Q. How was the course?
A. Two different people emailed me the week prior to the run to tell me that the course was very “runnable.” I think this is one of those things that only a seasoned ultra runner can truly appreciated. No one every says that a road marathon is “runnable.” It’s assumed that since you’re lacing up your running shoes that you’re planning on running the race. I’ve now tackled a couple of ultras that were so incredibly hilly, or rocky, or rainy that you truly look forward to the times when you can actually run. So I naively thought that hearing the course was very runnable meant that there weren’t many hills. And granted there weren’t a lot of hills, but there were plenty of mountains! Truthfully there were some very, very long runnable stretches, but as Kevin and I were saying the day after the race, I’d swear that there was about 5x more uphill than there was downhill.

The course was beautiful, too. Most of the run was spent under the canopy of large redwood trees. In the shade it was nice and cool. You would have sworn that this was an October run until you found yourself fully exposed and quickly realized that nope, it was indeed July. This was my first Pacific Coast Trail Run but it will by no means be my last. Wendell and Sarah, very, very active in the ultra running community (and quite accomplished ultra runners themselves, check out the “about us” on their home page), put on some 20-something races a year and if I had the time, and no family, I would run them all. Well organized, well attended, nice course and a ton of food after the race. I feasted on chili, trail mix, M&M’s, you name it. My Garmin 305 GPS watch said that I burned some 3900 calories on the run itself. I probably took in a good 4,000 immediately after the race…and then we stopped at In-n-Out on the way home…and then I broke down and had ice cream before bed! It’s hard to imagine but I think that the days I run 30 plus miles are probably some of the days where I consume far more calories than I burned for the day.

I remember when I first started running marathons. The night after a race we’d go out to eat and I would go crazy. I would then spend the rest of the week on a fast food induced bender, eating out every meal, feeling like I earned it. Now I realize that eating like a man just rescued off of a desert island for a week probably isn’t the best way to fuel my recovery. I did eat my customary post-race chocolate fudge pop-tarts this morning and I will finish off the box of ice cream tonight but then I’ll try to settle back into semi-decent eating by tomorrow. And by semi-decent I mean that I’ll try to work in a banana every couple of days.

Q. Give me the specifics of the run. How’d you feel at various points?
A. Well, let’s start at the very beginning. Luckily we arrived early, just after 7 AM. The race was in Oakland, we gave ourselves enough time to get there somewhere between 7:30 and 8 AM. There was no traffic on the way and we didn’t have to stop for any pit-stops that we assumed, something you can normally count on with a car full of runners who have been carbo-loading and hydrating for a couple of days leading up to the race. But again, luckily we were early. We all immediately headed to the rest room where we were met by short lines. By the time we made it inside, at least on the men’s side, we noted that there was only one stall. We knew that this would make for some difficult times for runners arriving later. Let’s just say that by the time 8:15 AM rolled around (30 and 50k runners started at 8:30, 10 and 20k runners at 9 AM) the line for both the men’s and women’s side was out the door and stretched well into the accompanying forests. Note to self, definitely arrive early in the future, or stop before you get there.

A couple of other interesting “bathroom facts” from the day. Someone out there still does manufacture a one-ply toilet tissue. This park’s facilities featured this see-through paper. I’m convinced that overall you use far more one-ply than you would have used in two-ply just trying to make sure that you…well, that’s enough info right there. Let’s just say I think it’s a waist. And where’s the 3-ply, or 4-ply? Every few months Gillette or Schick is adding another blade to my razor, I swear I’m up to 6 or 7 now, but still only two-ply? Also, let’s just say that 7 AM in the woods, it is VERY quiet. We worked out a system, when somebody entered the single stall, the next in line fired up the hand dryer to muffle all sounds. I highly recommend this.

Before we started Wendell did his best to go over the trail markings. I’ve been lost at trail runs before. This was Kevin’s first real trail race. He did a 10-miler with us in January but there were enough people around that the chances of getting lost were slim. At this race those chances were upped a great deal. The first clue that this could be a long day was when we were offered trail maps upon check in. Kevin looked over and said, “I’ve resigned myself that I WILL get lost.” I’m happy to say that none of us got lost, or at least nobody is admitting it. I took a grand total of two wrong turns but I was able to catch myself within 100 yards or so.

The start was slightly uphill. Kevin took off with me; Monica, ultra-friends (and Western States mile 78 aid station captains) Chuck and Trish Godtfredsen, Jeffery and Terry were all within sight behind us. I quickly spotted speedster Steve Itano. Steve was one of those who was all trained up for Western States and then suddenly, because of its cancellation due to the fires in the area, had no where to go. I figured it would be a good goal to stay with Steve as long as I could. Steve and I ran together and talked a bit off and on for the first 8 or 9 miles. He’s very fast on the downhill and would lose me but I was able to catch up on the uphill.

Kevin is also an incredibly quick downhill runner. Actually he’s crazy and lets it all go on the downhill and for at least a couple of miles he would fly by me saying, “Come on old man!” on the way down and I would catch him on the way up. It was starting to get a bit maddening, me wondering why he couldn’t run uphill a bit quicker and I’m sure he was wondering why I didn’t lengthen my stride a bit on the downhill when all of a sudden I didn’t see him any more?

After a couple of monstrous climbs we came out onto what appeared to be a fire road and then headed down some steep single-track trails. Steve let me know that this part was an out-and-back that would take us down to an aid station a couple of miles away (turned out to be around the 9.75 mile mark) and then back up the single track to the fire road and back to the start / finish area. The 50k runners ran the 30k loop, jealously watched the 30k folks stop and then continued on to complete the 20k loop.

Shortly after we headed down the single-track toward the turn-around the leaders were making their way up. Graham Cooper was sprinting uphill followed closely by Will Gotthardt. I’ve seen Will at a couple of other races and read his posts on the Runner’s World trail running forum. He’s a good guy and fast to boot! I was flattered that he recognized me as well. Will would go on to finish 2nd some hour and 15 minutes ahead of me. I realized that I REALLY like an out-and-back, something about seeing the other runners that energizes me. Before the turn around we also ran on about a quarter mile of pavement before returning to the trails. I can’t lie, I also realized I still like pavement! I’m finding that many trail runners view the pavement now as some sort of Kryptonite but I found the evenness pretty darned comfortable. I also enjoy turning up the speed dial a bit and finding more of a rhythm on the road. The trails keep you guessing, keep you on your toes, looking down. You never quite know what’s coming next and your experience on any given trail may vary from your friend running right in front of you depending on where you step. I guess while I’m increasingly become more accustomed to, and enjoying the trails, you’ll probably never take the road runner out of me.

I started to slowly pull away from Steve on the climb back up to the fire road. It was here that I passed Kevin, Monica, Jeffery, Terry, Trish and Chuck. I saw Becky Sabin, aka Snow White, along with a couple of other forum folks that I met earlier in the day (and whose names are escaping me, even their forum handles!). Each time I saw a friend I felt the need to pick it up a bit, that was a lot of fun. I kept expecting Steve to catch and pass me at any moment heading back to the start / finish area but he didn’t. I would later learn that he had stopped his race early. This made more sense. The day I beat Steve Itano in a 50k is the day the apocalypse has officially begun.

As I pulled into the start / finish area I realized how refreshingly cruel this set up actually was. Here were oodles of 10k, 20k and a few 30k finishers that were done with their run, eating, drinking, and being merry! And I was about to head out for another dozen miles. I think I went a bit crazy at the aid station. I tried my first peanut butter and jelly squares, they tasted great at the moment but they’ll forever be linked to my upset tummy feeling a couple of miles away.
I really felt great leaving the start / finish. I was on my own and slightly paranoid about trail markers. I put on my iPod and listened to some talk radio podcasts, interviews with people; it wasn’t time for music yet. Once again I was passed by Graham and Will making a part of the 20k loop. Both guys again in a dead sprint. I passed Kevin, he was at least a mile and a half from the finish of the 30k, I knew something had to have happened to him and he said he took a pretty good fall. Welcome to ultra running! Now do you see why I pull the “old man” card on the downhills? :-)

By mile 21 or 22 I realized that my tummy was feeling a bit odd. Nothing too dramatic, just odd. I actually thought this was an OK thing. Coming into the race my plan was to run it a bit harder than usual and see what happens and then deal with it. I figure I’m going to run into plenty of problems in my upcoming 100 miler so better to get some experience on a much, much shorter distance.

I decided that my problem was more mental than anything and I turned to some music on the iPod. I picked a playlist that was a little over an hour (80’s music, yes, I’m stuck in my high school years) and I told myself that I couldn’t look at my watch until the playlist was finished. I’m completely addicted to my GPS watch while on a race, how far have I been? How fast was I running? It was hard for a while but I quickly settled into a rhythm. Before I knew it I was running the flat and downhill portions of the course at a very nice clip, running slowly the true “uphills” and power walking the “mountains” which thankfully were very few by this time.
Two other mental hurdles came up during this portion of the race, somewhere between 22 and 28 miles. I never saw a single other runner. I ran into an occasional hiker, their dogs and I even ran upon some of the very last of the 20k runners, but no other 50k folks. At times I did that nervous 3 or 4 minutes of running just scanning the trees for the right trail marker wondering if I was off the trail. Each time I would see the marker I would feel a HUGE feeling of relief and I think it would even throw a little spring in my step.

The second problem I ran into was my water bottle choice for the day. I opted for one 20 oz handheld bottle. I typically run with two. Important note, I sweat like a pig and Saturday was no exception. Despite the cooler weather my shirt felt like I had just jumped into a pool with it on and my hat, man, how much sweat does a bald guy have to muster up to soak the bill? There was a section of almost 8 miles without aid. If I would have carried two bottles I wouldn’t have though twice about the distance. Instead, I was down to a few drops with at least a mile or so from the aid station. I passed by a park and saw a water fountain. I took the detour to the water fountain and it was COLD. It was FREEZING water and I told myself to take it easy…but I couldn’t. The first bottle went on my head. Note to self, dump out remnants of sports-drink first next time, I was a wee bit sticky even with the water from the fountain diluting the left-over sports drink in my bottle. The second bottle was, for the most part, entirely consumed right there on the spot. It felt great going down, but then as I headed back to the trail I felt that nice sloshy feeling. Luckily it was only uncomfortable from the standpoint that it felt like my insides were moving side to side while running. Other than that I felt fine. It was here that I pass another 50k guy who was in that all-too-familiar “I’m trying to puke” position. I asked him if he was OK and he mumbled something about being fine, just give him a minute.

I made it to the final aid station. I looked down at my watch and it showed something around 28 miles. I knew a 50k was over 31 miles so I figured I had an additional 3 miles to go. I felt good, but it always feels better to be done. So I asked the aid station volunteer how many miles in from this aid station. I would have been very happy to hear 2.7 or so, anything less than 3 I figured was bonus. “A mile and a half,” she said.

I felt like a kid who just learned that Santa was indeed real! “Really!?” I asked. “I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that.” Not the best response I must admit. It seems that while aid station volunteers are the oil that makes the race machine go, they are prone to see the glass half full, which I typically appreciate except for the frequent “it’s all down hill from here” comments which it in fact isn’t, or the “you’re almost there” refrain when, in fact, you’re not. But she insisted I was almost there. I knew the GPS had lost signal a few times in the thick of the trees so I figured she could indeed be right!

I started down the hill toward the finish and ran into Becky. She had a bit farther to go still so I asked her how she was doing. She mentioned something about puking up a pop-tart. I quickly plugged my ears knowing that I had pop-tarts waiting for me for breakfast the following morning, wished her luck and headed for home. Not only was the finish a mile and a half away, but it was pretty much all downhill. It was wonderful, glorious, amazing, you name it. I ran the downhill as good as I had run all day and finished with a nice kick. What a wonderful day, fantastic course, race, group of people. I’ll be back to do this one again.

Quick musical note, I downloaded the Dropkick Murphy’s version of Amazing Grace. It’s all instrumental, bagpipes and electric guitar and it ROCKS! They are apparently a punk rock band and I checked out a couple of their other songs which I wasn’t impressed by, but I highly recommend the .99 to get their Amazing Grace. I timed it so that it started just as I was nearing the final crest toward the finish. By the time I could see the open field we were in full bag pipes and electric guitar mode and I never felt more like a rock star finishing a race in my entire life.

I crossed the line, received my coaster and my t-shirt (I paid the $10 upgrade to get a technical shirt, well worth the money, it’s a great shirt) and turned around just in time to see Monica finish, again, 2nd female overall and 1st in her age group. I came through the 30k mark at around 3 hours and 7 mins, which would have put me top 20 in the 30k I must say! Monica said that she and Jeffery came through in just over 3:30. I ended up beating Monica by a mere 3 minutes. I felt like I ran a great final 20k but Monica made up almost 2 minutes per mile on the final 20k! That’s amazing! I have a feeling this will be the last time I beat Monica in a race. If the race had been another mile longer she would have blown by me guaranteed! She, too, is running the Rio Del Lago 100 miler in September. Even I would put my money on her.

Q. So you really finished top 10?
A. NO, I said I thought I finished top 10 but realized later that I was actually 15th, thanks for re-visiting that point.

Q. What would you do different next time?
A. Two water bottles and sweat less. I also got my first ever blister! I’ve now run over 20 marathons and ultra marathons and I got my first blister! Not sure why, I’ll have to figure that out and try to avoid it next race…which is the 12 Hours to Cool in just a couple of weeks! And yes, I wear the Injinji toe socks, I love ‘em, but still a blister!

Huge thanks to Wendell and Sarah for putting on a wonderful race. Big congrats to all my friends, real and virtual (forum friends) who finished at any distance. Great time carpooling as well, I highly recommend it for future events. As a therapist I thoroughly enjoy hearing others stories and making random, passing diagnosis either out loud or in my head, and there were plenty. I informed all members riding in my car that once the van doors shut all content was fair game for my race report. That fact was quickly forgotten and it wasn’t until we were about half-way back that Jeffery reminded everybody of that fact. For a moment there was talk that they would corroborate my top-10 finish if I would keep the stories told in the car off the blog. It dawned on me that thanks to Al Gore and his darned internets my secret top 10 finish couldn’t be kept. However, for the time being there stories are all safe from the public eye…for now!