Driven

Jupiter Peak

Never heard of Jupiter Peak, or the steeplechase there until yesterday. Dustin Erickson  (watch for his name to show up on the top 25 on various races in the next few years) invited me to run the Jupiter Peak steeplechase course -- that is Park City -- yesterday, and I couldn't pass up the prospect of running in the fall colors above Park City. I got to see some new Wasatch and stand on a couple minor peaks. That was pretty wizard.

Wanted to see how fast I could do a 5K. I wanted to go under 20 minutes.

20:12.  

Gotta lose 13 seconds. 

Quick easy run in the dark. I met the storm at mile 2. By the time I reached mile 4 I was in full rain. Just want to stay loose for my 30 mile run Saturday.

My First Ultra: 32 miles

You can do a lot in a lifetime, if you don't burn out too fast. You can make the most of the distance - But first you need endurance, first you've got to last...

 Until now my longest uninterrupted distance run was 15 miles. I have hiked more than 40 miles in a day, but this was a new game. With my first 50 mile 'race' fast approaching, the advice I had been getting from friends is to get at least one long run in before I attempt 50 miles. On other advice from friends I chose to get the long run on the very roads I would be attempting the 50 out in the West desert on the Pony Express trail.

I left Farmington a few minutes before 11AM Saturday. The weather forecast predicted a 50% chance for rain where I was going. Despite the odds, I had a good feeling about the day so I was committed to making the drive. As I drove out through Tooele, I phoned my dad to tell him exactly where I would be. He called me a short time later to tell me he and my mom were coming out to be in the area were I was running. They were worried about me being alone out there. I arrived at Lookout Pass about 12:30PM, then soon arrived at the campground/Pet Cemetery where the start line of the race will be. I cached water and food, then drove 16 miles to Simpson Springs where I dropped a similar cache. I then went back 7 miles, parked, and got dressed for a day of running in the desert. My plan was to run first to the start line at the campgound then back to my car for a total of 18 miles, then continue to Simpson where I would turn around and run the last leg back to the vehicle. The total mileage would be 32 if I was successful. 

As I got ready to start my timer, another runner came by headed in the direction of Simpson Springs. "You out here training?" said the stranger, an older man wearing a hydration vest similar to mine. "Yes," I replied. Two weeks. His name is Mike Cummings and he will be running the 100. I told him I was going the opposite direction but would probably see him later in the day as he made his way back to where he had parked.

The run to the campground was enjoyable. It never was boring, even though I was alone in a desolate area. I never felt entirely alone because every 20 minutes a fast moving vehicle went down the road. I had my music to help propel me and keep me company. A thick ceiling of clouds hung over the area the entire day but they held their  moisture. The rain never fell. About halfway through my first leg I met my parents coming the opposite direction. I updated them on my status, told them where my vehicle was parked and what my strategy was. The planned to drive around in the area and check on me. I wasn't sure how long they would sty out there, but it was a comfort knowing they were near.

Just before the campground there is a hill. I kept running up, although my pace must have slowed somewhat. I arrived at my cache site and refilled my water. I was curious about the nearby Pet Cemetery but I was not there to be a tourist. All business. Nine miles back to my car would put my at mile 18.5. I again met my parents along the road. My father is a professional photographer and he was out with the zoom lens getting good shots. Several miles later my parents were waiting for me at my vehicle where they acted as my running crew. They had all kinds of food offerings: drinks, chocolate, grapes, cheese. All I really needed was to refill my water, drink some Coke and try to eat my bagel. 

Back at it with 14 miles to go, I ran toward Simpson Springs. I saw a group of Pronghorn antelope bouncing across the road. Still not bored, just focussed on what I wanted to do. I wanted 32 miles, nothing less. At about mile 15 my knees felt sore. At mile 24 I began to get emotional. I let out several primal screams as I climbed a long, gradual incline to ward Simpson. I love the desert. Nobody is around to inhibit my emotional outbursts. Loud and unashamed. My knees hurt and my pace slowed noticeably.

My parents were waiting for me at Simpson, my last aid station. I refilled water, chewed off half a banana, sucked a gel and told my parents to go 4.5 miles down the road (mile 30) and wait for me. I told myself I could quit at mile 30 but not anything less.

Every part of me other than my knees and one of my hips felt strong. My cardio was feeling great, my muscles were solid. The last 7 miles was a exercise in managing pain while pushing forward. There was no stopping, no walking. The sun began to set behind me as I turned East on the road. My dad was out with his camera taking shots of me backlit with the sunset. Spectacular.  The last two miles I concentrated on my music, trying to ignore my sore knees. The last half mile one of my favorite songs (Rush's MARATHON) began to play and the lyrics were just what I needed to hear:

First you've got to last... 

At last my watch ticked mile 32. I jumped and shouted for joy, then quit. I was a mere 50 feet from my car.

I gave my parents the hugs they deserved, told them I love them.  

On Scott's Treadmill 'smorning with Jun & Scott. Autumn darkness, full moon.

My fist activity after the 32 miles the Saturday before. Legs felt good, strong. Wanted to get to summit under 40 minutes. It was 41.5 . Next time perhaps. Smooth up in ya.

Five mile loop around home.

Sucked.

 My knee began to hurt after mile one. Shyte. Discouraged. Doesn't it know I have a 50 miler coming in 7 days? 

Grandeur Double Up and Loop

Couldn't sleep past 4:30AM, got up and ran/hiked up Grandeur, then down to meet Dorsimus, Jun and Scott W. for another lap up Grandeur, then loop run down the East side and back to car. I ended up getting over 7,000 feet of vert and 15 miles total. Ok I guess I should taper for 50 miler next Friday. 

Ran 4.

Feel like crap, out of sync. Got a cold.

A few thoughts:

It feels good to be able to type in the numeral '50' as the distance I ran Friday. And I ran 99% of it.

I must have done something right. Training, nutrition, attitude--it all came together for me Friday. I wish I would have had more and deeper sleep than I got, but being used to early morning alpine starts to 12+ hour dayhikes, I knew that lack of sufficient sleep would be the least of my concerns going into my first ultra race. Until Friday, the longest distance I had run was 32 miles. I did not know what to expect. So I just did what felt comfortable and called upon my abilities. This is what I had trained for.

I arrived with my father at the Lookout Campground, the starting point for the 100 and 50 mile races. The temperature was chilly enough for sleeves and thin gloves. Did all the checking in, saw some friends. All the anxiety I had the previous day had evaporated. I was just ready to run and see what I could do. Scott Wesemann was waiting for me when I checked in, and he gave me some last-minute advice. The plan was to have Scott ride with my dad until mile 20 or so, then he would run with me to the finish.

Then the countdown, and a modest group of 2 dozen crazies began bobbing up past the Christmas light-lined fairway to the road. Everyone was in slow motion. Holding back. A minute after the start I had unintentionally moved to the front of the pack, and at the same time, Seth Wold appeared at my side, running with me. We had a nice four-mile conversation. During that first four miles, I was aware that there was no other runner ahead of us, and I expected dozens of them to pass me at any moment. I did not look back, just continued running with Seth. At mile 4 he made an exchange with his crewman--his father in a white pickup--then he wished me a good day and in a minute was a quarter mile ahead of me. 

I continued the pace I had set from the beginning, trying to stay at or below 8 minutes per mile. I was familiar with this road. I knew how far away Simpson Springs was, and in my mind it wasn't that far away. Easy. On the gradual uphill before Simpson I passed my first 50 mile early starter. I felt terrific running up that long grade. Really good. Then down to the corral, back up to the road. That is when I felt the first hint of fatigue. Not to worry, still lots of gas in the tank. I just needed to stay on top of fueling.

I should write at this point that from the very start, Scott W. acting as chief crewman and my father as driver and assistant crewman were better than I could have asked. Scott was out of the van at every stop asking me what I needed, running back to get it. For the first half of the race I did not stop at the van, just kept running and they would pull up on my left and hand-deliver my supplies. This worked well for me. My plan was to keep moving. Scott really knew how to provide support that allowed me to keep my forward momentum.  Honestly, I was concerned about losing him as crew chief when he got out to pace me at about mile 21. He was doing such an excellent job. But then he actually stepped it up, running with me and then at every two miles he ran ahead to the idling van to grab fuel not only for himself but to make preparations for me. Outstanding. 

From Simpson Springs to Dugway Pass is a very long, straight stretch of desert road. Really, 18 miles I believe. Most of it went by in a blur. I felt pretty good for most of it. Scott helped me keep my mind off my aching joints. A few miles before the pass I was aware of the heat. Overall, it wasn't that bad. Never became intolerable for me. I kept my shirt on. This entire time, not one other runner had passed me. Did I dare hope for second place? Here I was, 35 miles into a 50 mile race and looking back I could not see anyone making a move. 

 Now of course, I did not win the race. That rank was reserved for the elite runner Seth Wold. But damn, I could taste 2nd place all the way through mile 37, when I finally was passed by a stronger runner. I had turned to look back before the curve that leads to the pass and saw someone in an orange shirt. He hadn't been there all day, but there he was, moving dangerously close. After every complaint about losing my 2nd place position Scott would tell me, "Don't worry about him, just run your race, make the finish your goal." I had to accept it. I would get passed soon after the pass. And he did pass me, about mile 38. "Good job" he said as he moved past me on my left. By this time I was hurting. I wish I could have bombed down from the pass, but it wasn't possible. My joints were rusted. I just had to keep moving.

At about mile 40 my wife and kids finally caught up to me. I was afraid they were going to miss my finish because I told them it would probably take me 10 hours. But the way I was moving most of the day I was on track for an 8 to 8.5 hour finish. Every two miles I met my family and my dad, filled my bottle with fresh water, and tried to graze out of a nice variety of high energy foods available to me. However, my appetite was gone, and I just wanted to run in with nothing. I did manage to stuff some food in me because I certainly did not want to bonk five miles from the finish.

About mile 43 I looked back and another runner appeared, a woman. She came up pretty fast, passed me, and was gone. She was the one that almost caught me at  Simpson. She looked strong and was running smoothly. OK, fourth place is pretty good too.

Scott and I just grinded out the last handful of miles. He was hurting too and had slowed noticeably. He had run Wasatch 100 the month before, and then the St. George Marathon. By the time his day was through he had run another 29 miles. 

Finally I got my first view of Blackrock finish line. I had to pass it, run down .75 miles and turn around. It wasn't that bad and went by quickly. I wanted to get under an 8:30 finish, so I picked up the last .20 miles and crossed the line at 8:29.58 for 4th place.

Good enough.

My first real race. Loved it. Thanks to those who have mentored and coached me. You know who you are. If you have gone running with me, I consider myself the least-talented among you.