Many years ago I ran a road marathon in the rain. All three hours and 54 minutes were in the rain. It was my 2nd ever marathon. I had finished my first in something like 3 hours and 52 minutes. It was a year later and I had trained much harder so I was a bit disappointed with my finishing time. But someone quickly told me that the rain can sure do a number on performance, times, etc. I didn’t like running in the rain. I didn’t have a rain jacket and I inevitably was one of those guys running in a trash bag. I didn’t like running in a trash bag. I figured that it made me run slower and so I essentially vowed to become a fair weather runner for the rest of my career.
I had no problem telling running friends of mine that I just flat out didn’t do the rain. Sometimes I’d blame it on not wanting to get my orthotics (shoe inserts) wet, other times I’d just tell the truth, I didn’t like getting wet! A gym opened up nearby and that gave me the perfect excuse to stay out of the rain and still get my training done on the treadmill. Once, while training for a marathon, it rained on the day of a scheduled 20 mile training run so I did it all on the treadmill.
The treadmill would only go for an hour at a time so there I was with a couple of bags full of dry clothes, snacks, water, you name it and I did it. The best part of that story was our local newspaper was doing a feature on a couple of us heading to run the Boston Marathon, so they came out and took a picture of me running on the treadmill and the reporter, not a runner, wrote that it took me 7 hours to run those 20 miles on the treadmill that day. In order to cover 20 miles in 7 hours you’d pretty much need to stop, drop and then roll the entire distance. My running friends teased me for a long time about my 7 hours on the treadmill.
A year or so ago, and several years after my vow of no rain, I signed up for the first day of the Western States training camp. Day one would take us some 32 miles North of Foresthill. We’d run back down the mountain and then a few of us would re-fuel and go another 18 to make it an even 50 miles for the day. And then the rains came. I ended up running for 6 or 7 hours in the rain, it was a cold rain and I vowed (again) to never run in the rain.
And then last Saturday happened.
And then last Saturday happened.
Running buddy Jeffery and I drove down to the Mill Valley Travelodge in pouring rain. The kind of rain where your wipers, working at full blast, still can’t keep the windshield clear. A couple of times I found myself just staring down at the white line to the left of the Jeep and the brake lights ahead of me, and it never let up.
We made our way to the hotel hoping the entire time that the skies would clear the closer we got to the Marin Headlands. But the closer we got, the more it poured.
The guy checking me into the hotel was nice, and I know he meant well. He asked if I was there for a run and I told him “yeah, a little run.” He said, “5k?” And I replied, “Times 20.” I don’t think he majored in math; he looked at me quizzically and then changed the subject. “How about this rain?” To which I replied, “Man, I don’t want to spend the day running in the rain!” And then he said, “I like to run in the rain.” To which I said, “Do you want to take my place? Just give me the t-shirt.” Again I was met with a puzzled look. Finally he wished me luck and said he hoped I’d win. Little did he know that I was simply hoping to finish within a few hours of the winner.
He told me about check out time at 11 AM, about the free continental breakfast beginning at 6 AM and about the late night dancing at a club down the frontage road. I’d be passing on all three. Jeffery and I unloaded the Jeep and then decided we’d drive down to the start just to make sure we could find it as the next trip would be done in the 4 AM’ish time frame.
We eventually found the start and, surprise, it was raining. Jeffery pointed to the corner of the parking lot and said, “That’s where it ends!” Admittedly I was thinking it might end tomorrow morning in my car if the weather didn’t change.
We headed for dinner at the Outback and I found myself trying to think of all kinds of things that I could do to sabotage my race. I tried twisting my ankle stepping out of the Jeep. I figured I’d ask for the seafood platter, raw! Give me water with extra lemons (for those of you who didn’t see the Dateline or 48 hours special a while back on the lemon wedge that finds its way into your water, well, maybe you don’t want to). But I settled on a bbq chicken breast and baked potato, salad and extra bread. It was perfect.
We made our way back to the hotel and commiserated some more about the weather. At one point Jeffery asked me if it was still raining. I opened the door to see sheets of raining moving through the field behind the hotel. It was still a downpour.
We watched The Bucket List on HBO, made jokes about it raining buckets, powered down some yogurt covered pretzels, red licorice and Mrs. Fields mini-nibblers and packed our drop bags and got our race gear ready for the next day. Actually Jeffery’s drop bag was probably packed sometime in March, he likes to be prepared. I sorted through everything I had brought and I started what would be the recurring theme for the next few hours, rain jacket or no rain jacket?
We actually both slept pretty well and woke up to the 3:30 AM alarm. As good ultra runners do, we both reached for bagels and sandwiches and power bars and Gatorade and started eating. The rain had let up a bit and there was hope for the day. The weather channel wasn’t a big help, it showed no “severe thunderstorms” but it showed constant rain.
We actually both slept pretty well and woke up to the 3:30 AM alarm. As good ultra runners do, we both reached for bagels and sandwiches and power bars and Gatorade and started eating. The rain had let up a bit and there was hope for the day. The weather channel wasn’t a big help, it showed no “severe thunderstorms” but it showed constant rain.
We made our way to the start and got a parking space right next to the finish line. It was hard to believe I’d eventually make my way back there later that night…hopefully! We ran into several ultra friends, including Monica Moore and Trish Godtfredsen, a couple of people that we run with in Auburn. They had stayed at a hostel and said that the “bongo playing hippies” had kept them up until after 2 AM. When they woke at 3:30 AM they weren’t very popular. I was very grateful for the Travelodge.
The big debate was now what to wear. A quick glance around at the other runners found some wearing essentially underwear and arm warmers while others looked ready to camp in the arctic. I settled on short sleeve shirt, arm warmers, Nathan’s vest (not a guy, but a brand, Nathan wouldn’t have been happy if I just grabbed his vest right before the start) and yes, my rain jacket. Two days before I bought a serious running rain jacket, not the kind that just repels rain, but the kind that takes the rain and throws it right back up at the sky! The only negative, according to the REI rep, was that it could get a bit warm. He was right!
The Start to Bunker Road! 6.2 miles
We walked as a group to the beach and after a couple of words (including a reminder to look for pink ribbons on the trails which sent me into an immediate panic because I hadn’t even thought about my tendency to get lost on trail runs, the course was incredibly well marked) we were off! We slogged along the beach for a few hundred yards and then came to a grinding halt as some 320 runners made their way up a steep single track trail. The weather was actually quite warm, it wasn’t raining and I was already breaking a sweat.
The next few miles were all up hill. Up a steep, paved hill. I made my standard, “Now I’m going to make my move” jokes and “Is it only the top 3 that get into States” comments. I was also starting to sweat profusely! Jeffery suggested we ditch the rain jackets around mile 2 and I envisioned carrying my jacket, or wearing it around my waist for the next 19 miles until we hit our drop bags at the Pan Toll aid station. Jeffery, thankfully, convinced me that my jacket would fold up and fit in the back pouch of my vest, and it did without a problem. All of a sudden it was warm, my jacket was off, there was no rain, this was going to be my day!
We were able to chat with several people, two ladies that Jeffery had seen before, both training for Western States, I can’t remember their names, but they said just go with “The long and the short of it,” and one of them was long (tall) and the other was, well, short!
And then the hills kept coming, and coming. I swear I don’t remember any downhills for the first 15 miles of the course, but I know there had to be. We cruised into the Bunker Road aid station feeling great.
Bunker to Tennessee Valley, 11.9 miles, and onto Muir Beach 16 miles
After Bunker we had a deceptively short, but flat piece of trail and I thought, once again, that I was ready to settle in and find a groove. That was when Jeffery pointed way up into the sky and said, “See those tiny people way up on that hill?” Sure, I saw those ant-size folks far off in the distance running up through the clouds. “That’ll be us in a bit.” And we began some serious uphill marching!
And then the rains came. It started to rain pretty good and the jackets came back out. For the next few miles I don’t remember much other than it went up, and I was wet.
Somewhere around 13 or 14 miles we were climbing some mountain and I realized that although the climbing was hard, I really didn’t mind it. And, Jeffery and I were gaining on people on the up hills. We also ran for a bit with Molly from Grass Valley and her friend. They had been running with one of our friends, Jack Meyer, and so the 5 of us, along with a couple of others, descended the mile or two down into the Muir Beach aid station together. It was at this point that my quads started burning. How quickly one could go from “this is my day” to “how long is this again?” I remember looking at my watch and it only said 15 miles and my legs were tired! Other than the American River 50 miler exactly 4 weeks earlier, I hadn’t done anything long, so I thought I’d be pretty darned fresh.
So the following conversation happened:
Me: “Jeffery, I need you to tell me the honest truth, don’t tell me something just to sound like a ‘real man’ or anything like that OK? Promise?
Jeffery: “Sure, whatever.”
Me: (in one breath) “OK, do your legs hurt at all, even one tiny bit because mine are already hurting and I think that I need to hear that after 15 miles of climbing the ups that a little downhill work will at least cause ones legs to feel a little bit of pain so seriously, as my friend, tell me the truth, do your legs hurt at all?
Jeffery: “Nope!”
Me: “Well that doesn’t instill much confidence in me! We have 47 miles to go!
We came down into the Muir Beach aid station in the pouring rain and I was starting the pity party, at only mile 16! Something else was happening, too. Despite eating a gel religiously every 30 minutes, I was starting to get hungry! Those who have read my reports leading up to my 100 last year know that solid food and I don’t get along well on a race yet here I was reaching for a PB&J square! And it was good! I figured I’d see how it went down and if all was well I’d try two at the next aid station.
Muir Beach to Pan Toll, 21.7 miles
We left Muir Beach and ran through some beautiful single track trails in the ultra green foliage, the canopy enough that while you could hear the rain above; you couldn’t really tell how hard it was coming down. After a couple of miles of that we eventually emerged into a, what else, a big hill! We were told we were looking at a roughly 2 mile climb up to the next aid station, Pan Toll, where our drop bags were located.
The next two miles were truly the worst part of the day for me. First, as we made our way up the climb, I told myself to eat and so I downed a gel and then I reached for the Shot Blocks. I don’t know if it’s because they were several months past their expiration date or because it was COLD but they were hard! I swear I was pulling out fillings with every chew and it took me every bit of 2 miles to eat the entire bag. Meanwhile Jeffery let me try one of his Gu Chomps AFTER I was done with my filling-pullers and it was like eating a freaking gummy bear!
It was also during these two miles that it dumped buckets and buckets of rain from the sky! We were soaked, rain just poured down the bill of my hat. My feet were soaked and I had rocks in my shoe but I didn’t want to stop to try and get them out. I was starting to think that today could just be a nice 21.7 mile training run and I could call it a day at Pan Toll.
We got into Pan Toll and we were both freezing. I changed shirts, tried to eat and empty the rocks out of my shoes. Jeffery said he was going to go ahead; every time we stopped we started to shiver. I left the aid station telling myself when I made it back, if the sky wasn’t full of sunshine and I wasn’t “pooping rainbows” as one of my daughters told me the other day, which apparently means that everything is going well, then I’d be dropping the next time I hit Pan Toll (Miwok is an out and back course with a slight change on the way back).
Pan Toll to Bolinas Ridge 28.4 miles
As if the last climb wasn’t bad enough, we were now at least done with the climbing for a bit, but we were now on an exposed ridge that I’m guessing was exposed to the ocean, although it was raining so hard one couldn’t see the ocean, only feel its breeze! Worse yet, the trail was tiny (I called it half track instead of single track) and it was slightly pitched, and muddy! A couple of times wind bursts hit so hard that I literally blew off the trail into the high grass. You would also periodically come up to an area where you could see slide marks off the trail into the grass which would then be muddy. The trail didn’t look particularly bad and then WHOA you were following those slip marks into the high grass. Apparently everybody was doing the same thing.
I finally caught Jeffery who was running with an old friend named Tom Harper, 60 years old from Auburn, who would go on to beat us by a fair amount. Tom was amazingly positive and the three of us were truly in a groove. We eventually made our way into the seclusion of the forest where, without the wind, and only the downpour to deal with, seemed like paradise.
Two things thing happened. First, we saw the leader, Eric Reis. Unfortunately he would drop shortly after we saw him, apparently unable to keep food down, but at that time he was some 12 miles ahead of us! Amazing. The next runners wouldn’t be seen for at least a mile. Then the second thing happened, Jeffery took a fall. He hit a root and went airborne. I’ve seen Jeffery fall one other time and it’s just amazing how everything slows down. He fell off the side of the trail and Tom and I had to help him up. He was muddy, bruised and a little bit rattled, but we knew it would make for a better story.
We made our way into Bolinas and again I went for the PB&J, this time two squares and it was wonderful! Jeffery and I also both made our way to the M&M’s, something we neither one typically eat at ultras but we both agreed it really hit the spot. Again, I was unusually hungry!
Bolinas to the Randall Trail (turnaround) 35.6 miles
As Jeffery and I left Bolinas we both checked in with each other and realized that despite the rain and cold, we were both actually running quite well. The next 7 miles to the turnaround were a lot of fun. We were starting to see more and more of the faster runners coming back and we were yelling “way to go!” and trying to come up with as many jokes as we could.
At one point we passed friend and uber ultra blogger Scott Dunlap (he was on his way back, don’t get me wrong) and I made it a point to yell out Scott’s name. We gave 5’s and he kept on running. It’s funny what a little pub on his blog will do to traffic on your own and I found myself devouring his post-race report looking for the part where he “saw Tony Overbay” on the trail with a link to my site, but unfortunately I must have been left on the editing room floor. Maybe next time!
We were also keen on conducting an unscientific study. Most of the front runners were essentially naked. Shorts and a tank top, half top, shirtless, you name it. Once those runners made it past you started seeing people wearing normal shirts, then long sleeve shirts and it wasn’t until a couple of miles from the turn around that we saw our first rain jacketed runner. Keeping in mind that we were wearing our rain jackets we knew we were now approaching “our type of runners.”
Also of note was that the puddles during this section of the race were more like lakes. Some were far too big to find a way around so we started plowing through them, which made life a little easier despite the numb feet and toes. The final two miles down to the turnaround were all downhill and muddy and we ran it hard and loved it. We saw a lot of friends, Leslie Antonis, Monica and Jack, Trish and many other familiar faces.
The 2 miles of down of course meant two miles of up to follow but we were ready for the hike after that downhill. We refueled at the turnaround and made a mental (and out loud) note that we were more than half way home. For the first time in the day, despite the rain and cold, I truly felt we were going to do this!
Randall Trail (turnaround) back to Bolinas and on to Pan Toll 49.5 miles
The way back was much similar to the way in, seeing the runners now on their way toward the turnaround, joking, exchanging “way to go’s” and “looking goods” while romping through puddles. We were also able to pass a few folks on the section to Bolinas which further pumped us up. We were truly running a good race.
At Bolinas I must have eaten a bag of M&M’s and another PB&J square, maybe this solid food thing was going to work out after all? Before we knew it we were back on the ridge fighting the winds and now leaning the opposite way on the pitched half-track. The wind was still fierce and the rains coming in buckets but we were moving and we were in a good place.
Pan Toll to Highway 1 Crossing 54.7 miles
I have to say, I truly thought when I first came through Pan Toll at roughly 22 miles that by the time I made it back at mile 50 I would be done. But here I was feeling pretty darned good. I knew that there were a couple of miles of downhill coming after Pan Toll so I was starting to do the math, meaning, I knew I could run those two downhill just swell and that meant I’d soon be at mile 52, only 10 to go. I also realized that my legs actually felt better than they had back at 15 when I started my pity party. Perhaps all the salt and gels and solids and fluids (my pee total was already in the teens at this time) were paying off, I was in good shape!
I was ready for the next 12 miles so I grabbed a bag from inside of my drop bag, took off my vest, stuffed what I needed into my jacket pockets and left. Since I know this report is going long, let’s just say I didn’t realize I was missing my vest, which contained my iPod, until the following day. Apparently I just left that bag with the vest and iPod on the table in the drop bag area, sealed up my drop bag and left. I emailed the race director Tia who got back to me on Tuesday and surprisingly let me know she had the vest and iPod! They are on their way back which I am grateful for, but not before I went ahead and bought a new iPod Nano, the kind that play video (that’s what I’ve been wanting since my oldest daughter got one for her birthday). Thanks Tia!
I remember the 2 miles of downhill and we did run it well. I remember making the hairpin left turn at the bottom of the hill which many miss and add miles onto an already long race. We passed a couple of more runners and were truly feeling great as we crested a ridge and found ourselves at the Highway 1 crossing. There were hills to follow and we did our best to eat and drink and gel and salt. They also had pizza. Jeffery grabbed a slice, I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to make the leap to pizza and we started moving up the hill.
Highway 1 to Tennessee Valley and onto the FINISH, Rodeo Lagoon, mile 62.4!
We were on yet another long uphill. Hopefully Jeffery won’t mind me sharing this part, but about a mile outside of the aid station he said he was done. He tried to send me on ahead but some 20 miles ago, when he was the one feeling strong we made a pact to ride this one out together. We were only 6 or so miles from the end, I wasn’t about to leave a man in the field! Plus, I knew there were plenty of downhills to come and Jeffery absolutely kills on the downhills, leaving me every time we hit a stretch of down throughout the day only to find me catching him on the ups.
We started to play leapfrog with a father / son team, I don’t know their names, but they were great sports giving us an idea of what was still to come. Jeffery ran Miwok last year but he developed blisters in the first dozen miles and ended up with a death march the last 50 miles or so with duct taped feet, entire layers of skin coming off the bottoms of his feet so he admitted that the last few miles were all a blur.
We hit the Tennessee Valley aid station and moved quickly through it. Neither one of us had drank much since Highway 1 as I believe we were both just ready to be done. The weather finally broke, not the cold so much, but the rain and we began what was to be our last climb, 1.8 miles up and 2 miles down to the finish. Knowing this gave Jeffery a little more spring in his step and I’m proud to say the last 4 miles were fairly easy. We were going to finish! We made it up the climb and passed a couple of additional runners as we then started downhill. I had to give it all I could to keep up with Jeffery as he could “smell the barn” and he was on his turf, the downhill.
Finally we could see Rodeo Beach, the finish line and people were clapping and cheering. There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING like finishing an ultra marathon. To put in all of the time and energy in training to then find yourself feeling so good about crossing an imaginary line that signified that you were done, that you did it. Another ultra in the books. A story to tell, and on this day, quite a story to tell. Early in the race, when I thought my wheels were coming off, I had already crafted my race report. It was going to be my first DNF (did not finish) but I was going to say it was a DNF as in Did Not Feel like it. But there I was grabbing a bbq chicken breast and a goodie bag completed with a Brooks hat and an awesome finisher’s shirt, as well as a finisher’s medal, something I hadn’t seen since my marathon days.
We finished in 13 hours and 32 minutes, good for 157th place overall. 62 runners dropped and rumor has it that another 40 something didn’t show up to start. I felt great!
We quickly changed into dry clothes and left with our sights set on the Mill Valley In-n-Out. We had burned approximately 7,500 calories during that run and I was intending on putting them all back in one sitting. Yet once we sat down I barely finished my burger as exhaustion set in. I had to get Jeffery to talk to me non-stop on the way home to stay away and, once home my hunger was truly back and I ate a giant bowl of ice cream and chocolate chips.
Epilogue
One thing I thought might be interesting for the ultra folks who have made it this far in the report. I’ve been amazed at how easy it has been over the past couple of years of ultra running to recover and be back running a couple of days after a race. In my old marathon days I’d be out for a week or more and for the past two years I was not only running a couple of days after an even longer event, but I was racing again within a couple of weeks.
My routine has been pre-race deep tissue massage once a week for the two weeks leading up to an event and then post-race deep tissue the week or two after. I have also made sure to drink the recovery drinks, like Endurox, stretch, use The Stick massager, all of these great things. Well, to be honest I just didn’t feel like all that stuff this time. Instead of Endurox I hit In-n-Out. Instead of stretching I laid on the couch and watched NBA playoffs. I did hit the gym starting Monday for daily elliptical and upper body weights but I skipped the massage and the Stick as well. And here I am on Thursday and I’m still feeling tiny remnants of soreness! So I think the old routine is a must for a quicker recovery.
Thanks again to Tia, the race director, to Jeffery, my running buddy who I didn’t tire of despite 6 hours in a car, 6 hours in a hotel and 13 hours on the trail and all of the wonderful volunteers who braved a day in the rain! We ran our race, and both felt like we could have kept going. Something that is a necessity for him as the countdown is now on for his Western States 100 run in just a matter of weeks!
I’m now going to take a break from ultras and chase the elusive sub-3 hour marathon. I feel I have the base, I’ve done a 3:14 and I have two good marathons targeted, the Deseret News in July and the St. George in October. Stay tuned, we’ll see how it goes!
