tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9326877271817006452024-02-19T04:51:18.385-08:00Patrick's Run BlogThe mountains are calling and I must go. Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.comBlogger191125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-7584688334982288742014-08-25T19:06:00.000-07:002014-08-26T04:11:10.795-07:00Leadville 100: Pukefest 2k14Sometimes you have really great races. Sometimes you have races that go okay. In these ones you don't seem to improve, but at least you don't go backwards either. Leadville was neither of these for me. It was the epitome of an, "am I hurting myself? Nope? Okay, forward then," effort. There were very few good times during the race and even fewer times that were even pleasant. So why didn't I drop? Well, there's a reason it took me a week to write this race report; but in short, I still don't know.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The race itself was a bit of a surprise. A guy at work had a slot available, and even though I still had to pay the entry fee, a slot in a sold out race was appealing. Especially after Bighorn. So I signed up in mid-July with promise of a crew and pacers in place when I signed up. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Typically, my dad is a crew of one and I don't use pacers. I'm a self motivated guy and once in awhile have a bit of a "don't tell me what to do" attitude when I get really tired in races. Not in real life, just in races. The father/son team works well because he trusts me fully that I'm not going to continue on if I'm going to hurt myself and I trust him if/when he gives me guidance. Some of it is spoken, most of it is not; but it works well. Really well.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Having a crew and pacers in place for Leadville is nice because in this race, they are allowed to carry stuff for you which is not allowed in other races. So if you're trying to go light and fast, pacers are a great way to do it. That being said, it only works if they are there. The Sunday before the race, two of the three guys cancelled. Luckily, the third, Ryan, was incredibly helpful and really scrambled to find replacements. It was a huge help and without the "replacement" guys, I'm not sure I would've finished. Luckily plans came together the day before the race. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The actual race!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The morning of the race I woke up in the campground at 2:15, ate a couple bananas (normal), put my stuff together (normal) and just got ready (also normal). Ryan and I drove to the start and met my second pacer (Ryan would be first), Jeremy about 3 minutes before the start. I lined up, heard Ken Chlouber say the famed words, "You're better than you think you are, you can do more than you think you can." And I heard the shotgun blast that signaled the 4 am start time. We all started running. I like to treat hundreds with the mindset of a 50 mile run to the start of a 50 mile race. So I took it easy. I'd done lots of training runs way up high along with speed work and road runs, ending with my last long run two weeks before the race which was a 30 mile road run from Echo Lake up to the top of Mt. Evans (over 14k ft.). But this far into the race, I never pushed. I just ran easy. I walked the uphills and people passed me a lot. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At about mile two I felt weird. My legs felt fine, but my stomach didn't feel right. Just weird. If I have stomach problems, it's usually during an afternoon run if I ate something I wasn't supposed to for lunch. Never for morning runs. Especially since I'd eaten my superstitious gluten-free pizza the night before; which has worked wonders all year. I continued to run until Mayqueen, mile 13.5 which I reached in 1:47 ish. I thought it couldn't be right. That's too fast. So I backed off further. I made sure my heart rate wasn't too high, made sure I wasn't sweating too much. Both were fine. Was I eating? Drinking? Yep, check. But I still felt weird. Shortly after Mayqueen I started feeling rough. Just plain sick. No reason for it that I could think of. Everything seemed to check out. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I continued on because I was sure it was just me getting used to running today. I reached Outward Bound mile 24.5 in about 3:35. Still too fast. But if all my systems were telling me I was fine, breathing, heart rate, eating, drinking, legs, perceived effort etc., why was my stomach still giving me problems? And not even "active" problems, just general pain. I continued to run because my legs felt fine. I'd walk the hills really early on and take it really easy. It would've been silly to stop because "I felt funny at mile 24." </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsuNIzXeqvyWQnqJYHtFbochKkcBE-XsaBGgrb7wW4OihMufqlAUZHnMwofO-6ns4wPTT0IB-D_qBWBAEmFETT5Av8g-C6lC43p4DWj2FS72wvF4W0FI1yy2Qiu_x3MhmA3UvUAVimyOv4/s1600/solo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsuNIzXeqvyWQnqJYHtFbochKkcBE-XsaBGgrb7wW4OihMufqlAUZHnMwofO-6ns4wPTT0IB-D_qBWBAEmFETT5Av8g-C6lC43p4DWj2FS72wvF4W0FI1yy2Qiu_x3MhmA3UvUAVimyOv4/s1600/solo.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Photo by Eric Lee</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At mile 31, Half Pipe, I started to feel a little better. My stomach wasn't being so silly and my body felt great still. So I kept my running easy and walking plan. At Twin Lakes #1 I felt great! Mile 39.5 and just feeling like the race was young and I was over my worst parts. So once again, I continued on. It was very short lived. Soon after Twin Lakes, I crossed a couple rivers which were so rejuvenating. I was able to wash off my arms and legs, dip my hat and really just get ready to climb up to Hope Pass. It wasn't long after this that things fell apart hard. I was really excited to start climbing because I love long climbs and long descents. They can be a grind, but you get in this rhythm and just feel like you could climb forever. I settled into a very sustainable hiking pace but then just started to get light headed and felt sick again. Of course, I just ignored it and kept plugging along. Finally, I reached the Hopeless aid station. I sat down and drank flat warm coke. It was disgusting. I felt so woozy and needed something cold and carbonated. That coke was neither. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I stumbled out of the aid station and made it a full 100 yards before I puked the first time. It was a geyser and felt incredible. Shortly after, I puked two more times, both of them way more than I thought I had in me. Each time I felt better and better. Finally making it to the top of Hope Pass at 12,600 ft. I quickly started the descent. I was running. Actually running, and it felt wonderful. I didn't have any of that bile still in me, and really thought that my best miles were in front of me.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6IRF7v2eYXkS2kMhAaWg5YZAytFB3Q04OYoXQ2Bwx829QFHgKFf703i0Mncu8EYtL0ao9kDX6fFgHMo6SbarbsF5_xJYpEPs-kddE6ARgo9idJXXklCY47OY4by03KySK3TN_xBt3EOO/s1600/hope+pass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6IRF7v2eYXkS2kMhAaWg5YZAytFB3Q04OYoXQ2Bwx829QFHgKFf703i0Mncu8EYtL0ao9kDX6fFgHMo6SbarbsF5_xJYpEPs-kddE6ARgo9idJXXklCY47OY4by03KySK3TN_xBt3EOO/s1600/hope+pass.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Photo by Caleb Wilson FortClinch100.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At the bottom of the descent, you actually ascend a bit before the aid station. I quickly found out that running anything with an incline or even flat, caused extreme immediate nausea. The next 2 miles took roughly 40 minutes as I stumbled around walking anything more than a downhill grade and puking my guts out. I passed a guy who was probably some sort of park ranger and he saw me puking straight stomach acid. "Down to nothing," I thought. "Maybe I'll stop puking now." Turns out, the only thing puking stomach acid means is that it burns more. It doesn't mean you stop puking. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I walked into the aid station with my head hung low. Ryan ran up to me. He'd been expecting me about a hour prior to my arrival. I told him of my dilemma and to be honest. The thought of heading back over Hope Pass made getting an impromptu root canal sans anesthetic very appealing. I didn't know how I was going to stand back up and leave the aid station on foot. I told him I needed to regroup in a big way and I wasn't leaving if I barfed everything I ate just sitting in the aid station. So he brought me food. A med guy gave me some anti nausea medication, and I ate ginger chews too. I drank cold, crisp, refreshing soda; and it was glorious. I needed to lie down for a minute. So I found a cot. After a couple minutes, a friend came in and told me I was looking better. So, I got up. I figured if I was looking better, I'd be feeling better soon. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Ryan and I left Winfield, and all previous ideas about goal times or place melted away. I was fairly positive I'd drop at Twin Lakes since that's where the crew vehicle was. Ryan shoveled saltines to me and I reluctantly ate them. I still felt like I'd had the life sucked from me by a dementor from Harry Potter but at least I was keeping food down. Once we reached Hopeless aid station I just lied in the grass. Chaos was around me with people who were still on their way up the first time, chasing cut offs, and my own body seemed to be betraying me. But lying there, was peaceful. Ryan shoved this salty mixture of mashed potatoes and ramen noodles in my face and I ate it. It was awful but he said it worked for him last year.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I didn't know Ryan very well going into the race other than I worked with him on the weekends at Boulder Running Company. I knew he was a solid guy solely based on the amount that he'd helped me find a crew at the last minute. But I was starting to trust his judgement too, and my gut reaction wasn't to decline everything he told me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After 5 minutes (probably more), we left the aid station. I felt rough, but I had no choice but to continue on from there. Soon after, the calories kicked in, and I felt like a million bucks! ....well, maybe not a million. Maybe about $3.50. I felt like $3.50. But compared to what I'd felt like earlier, which was somewhere around the countries current monetary deficit, $3.50 felt pretty darn good. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUumQueWWo7szpO6zHW1c3KyzuDgOY-RbXznKBzKCvNSWjmo43Yvnpi-wNH2R9EsGvSb8rr4e_7UVmMcwQ3v9ULmTxHUTvZvYYiariCUjZ4Wa3BlxDuRYRZcXNh4OIig-Nk0zYxkU-7U6/s1600/me+and+ryan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUumQueWWo7szpO6zHW1c3KyzuDgOY-RbXznKBzKCvNSWjmo43Yvnpi-wNH2R9EsGvSb8rr4e_7UVmMcwQ3v9ULmTxHUTvZvYYiariCUjZ4Wa3BlxDuRYRZcXNh4OIig-Nk0zYxkU-7U6/s1600/me+and+ryan.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Photo by EricJLee.com Ryan and I just before Twin Lakes inbound with Hope pass behind us</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We ran to Twin Lakes and I still felt good. So the thought of dropping kind of was a non-issue. Ryan had to get home and I picked up my new pacer, Jeremy. We started up the short climb and I was still rolling. No real problems. All the way back to Half Pipe, (only a 50k to go!) I felt really good and ran strong. Right after Half Pipe, I did hurl once but I wasn't too concerned. My energy levels were good, my legs still felt fresh, (actually fresh, not 70-miles-in fresh) things seemed to be okay for the time being and I thought I'd actually have a chance at turning it into a respectable effort. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jeremy and I ran almost everything back to Outward Bound mile 75.5 and reached there in 15:44. Just as a point of reference, Rob Krar, the winner, would be finishing in roughly 25 minutes. Incredible. He ran 16:09 that day. I started to feel rough again, and those 5.5 miles changed the way everything else was feeling too. Energy levels, low, stomach, no good, mentally, low. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The reason I didn't drop at Outward Bound was because I really did think it was just a low spot. I figured the worst of the barfing was behind me and I was just experiencing standard low spots for mile 75. So I picked up the next and final pacer, Brandt. He was a total stranger until that day but he was great. 50 yards outside the aid station, I puked but felt better after. We made our way to the bottom of the power line climb and that's where the worst hit. I truly couldn't stop puking. I'd take a sip of water, and a lot more than that would come out. I wasn't even able to keep down water. I kept trying though. I'd drink some water, walk, puke. Repeat. That climb was extremely frustrating but eventually we made it to the aid station at the top where they were having a party. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Brandt, somehow, had cell service and had told me that Katie had come out to the Mayqueen aid station and she'd be there when I got there. Knowing she was there was a huge motivator, but I wasn't able to move very quickly. After hours, we made it to Mayqueen and I was done. I hadn't puked in about 45 minutes, but had been too afraid to try to eat too much because of my history with food. I needed to figure out if it was worth it to continue on. Once again, the appeal of a root canal over having to run the final 13 miles was very much present. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Katie had driven out after she'd worked all day (12 hour day as a nurse, and the shift is from 3 am- 3pm...it was now about 11:30 pm). I could not have been happier to see her. Luckily, I could figure out what to do from the comfort and warmth of the med tent cot. I never received an IV (doing so would result in instant disqualification) but I was there for about an hour just eating, drinking and talking to Katie and Brandt about what I'd do. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After what felt like, no time at all, I left the aid station on my way to the finish. I figured I'd eaten enough and waited long enough that'd I'd absorbed enough to get me 13 miles. Even if I walked every step of the last 13 miles, it wouldn't take any longer than 4.5 hours and I'd left at about 12:20. Given the 10 am cutoff, I'd still be fine. The biggest reason I left the aid station on foot and not in Katie's car was that, despite the circumstances of the day, and how terribly the race had gone, I a) still didn't feel like I was putting myself in any real danger and b) still believed in the saying, "things never, always get worse." Somehow I thought they'd get better. The up side, is that they didn't get any worse. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I had found that as long as I walked anything with an uphill grade, I wasn't going to puke. And so that's what I did. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I finished at 3:09:59 am. 23:09:59 and at last count, at least 25 pukes. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It wasn't my goal time, or my goal place, but I can say I finished. I seriously can not thank my crew and pacers enough. Ryan, Jeremy, and Brandt helped me more than I could have imagined and having them there witnessing the vile things I was pumping out of my body, gave the race a little more character I think. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In hind sight, and after speaking with a couple different people, I think the culprit was altitude sickness. I'm not sure what I could have done to prevent this any further than the training I did. I could do some more research, but it's still a little too fresh in my mind to want to dive into actually learning from this mess. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If I never want to do Leadville again, I don't have to. I've got the gigantic belt buckle to prove I ran 100 miles across the sky....that being said, I kind of have some unfinished business with that course. But that'll be a decision for another day. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"You're better than you think you are, you can do more than you think you can....and you can puke way more volume than you have eaten."<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwElfkUqsz2fWlpQaeChvyb8awTJIigx51t847S8RKpA83pAUV3gR8IuJaFFq2mBkLjDI_Na93HCo7bRQWqlupyWMiFzphz_XvYVuluILXKI1hh1O2Rd90JhJkPy1jPZzW4yadS5AYFEu/s1600/view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwElfkUqsz2fWlpQaeChvyb8awTJIigx51t847S8RKpA83pAUV3gR8IuJaFFq2mBkLjDI_Na93HCo7bRQWqlupyWMiFzphz_XvYVuluILXKI1hh1O2Rd90JhJkPy1jPZzW4yadS5AYFEu/s1600/view.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Ryan Lassen. Close to the top of Hope Pass.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-7986475122127486682014-06-24T19:15:00.001-07:002014-06-24T19:26:08.833-07:00Bighorn 100<div>
Cliff notes version: </div>
<div>
-Beautiful course! Out and back style. </div>
<div>
-My dad crewed and did a great job...and I may have had to drag him from Wyoming kicking and screaming.</div>
<div>
-Rudy Rutemiller finished his first 100 miler despite having a terrible first 30 miles.</div>
<div>
-Had numerous friends finish, and actually didn't know anyone who dropped out. </div>
<div>
-18 mile rough patch in the heat of the day, and walked most of it. </div>
<div>
-Came back from the dead once the temperature dropped and ran hard to finish in 19:39:02 for 2nd place. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
To start, the Bighorn 100 is a beautiful, though brutal race that I'll admit to having a lot of trouble with until mile 49. I was nervous coming into the race because, while I was able to do a handful of long runs, and two races since January, I felt a little under prepared based on what friends of mine were doing. One of my long runs was a traverse of five of the peaks near my house with two friends, Patrick Garcia and Todd Gangelhoff. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj97eDCfsJyB4XTshhODhTvLWtlzgF6Gu5tXwuvCwW8cBLmy41RlyiAlprTyu7iDaEihJp3KJXrdpQR48nn4B0rb5CKDhzp00VtvC15wUIiVFPcqRl0YGbVkki16TBAfHULqRX_VrAfsbRe/s640/blogger-image--1345032067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj97eDCfsJyB4XTshhODhTvLWtlzgF6Gu5tXwuvCwW8cBLmy41RlyiAlprTyu7iDaEihJp3KJXrdpQR48nn4B0rb5CKDhzp00VtvC15wUIiVFPcqRl0YGbVkki16TBAfHULqRX_VrAfsbRe/s400/blogger-image--1345032067.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Todd and Patrick</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8NankrMRejMO-SV5moJg3D6v7rzmrLSc8ovEEtQDDb406SREY0rwt4TMMI2QDV9rIyuNjB1EaIPlM2A1lZPuHn54ebNpeBIg5NEShlBJaE38KeJVEEiuLhgTC_V48HsYMjQwIS6MyE-wt/s640/blogger-image-1718698018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8NankrMRejMO-SV5moJg3D6v7rzmrLSc8ovEEtQDDb406SREY0rwt4TMMI2QDV9rIyuNjB1EaIPlM2A1lZPuHn54ebNpeBIg5NEShlBJaE38KeJVEEiuLhgTC_V48HsYMjQwIS6MyE-wt/s400/blogger-image-1718698018.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick Garcia on Mt. Morrison</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYj7tAh85S1fJUMeeB4b56Ba8-rpMVHex5E8zpd1rccZCXahetTbH83FDOYR3FBtAUl4o3EJQV5332BrcpY4PCISfDIn0w7O0s9TR5QgANEVZBMCdKxpqhbadhhrjXwgGxoYbaH8nmNNEM/s640/blogger-image--2054838489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYj7tAh85S1fJUMeeB4b56Ba8-rpMVHex5E8zpd1rccZCXahetTbH83FDOYR3FBtAUl4o3EJQV5332BrcpY4PCISfDIn0w7O0s9TR5QgANEVZBMCdKxpqhbadhhrjXwgGxoYbaH8nmNNEM/s320/blogger-image--2054838489.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The second big effort was a long day on Pikes Peak with my friend Carson Rickey from Colorado Springs. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONjOLinf75zvnwotovf8TUhpliqwweCyL9bOQ-4g4mnpF51dHKfOmu692jgjsYEnYWsajLfaDylMsqsI5soXS8572c9m7v_cVtXIPpERmmuie6FLES53v0E0hAMe75_8hFkCweO0UVvQM/s640/blogger-image-749165252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONjOLinf75zvnwotovf8TUhpliqwweCyL9bOQ-4g4mnpF51dHKfOmu692jgjsYEnYWsajLfaDylMsqsI5soXS8572c9m7v_cVtXIPpERmmuie6FLES53v0E0hAMe75_8hFkCweO0UVvQM/s320/blogger-image-749165252.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carson and me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
While both long runs were fun days with lots of vertical, long descents, and lots of time on my feet, neither was very focused in terms of elevation or the amount of actual running I'd need to do if I wanted to do well. That being said, just living in Colorado, I have access to much more trail running with elevation gain than I ever have before and I think that played a bigger part than I realized.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Also worth mentioning, after Quad Rock, I was added to the Pearl Izumi team! I'm very excited to be representing such a great company.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My dad had expressed an interest in crewing for the race when I had told him I'd signed up, and I definitely wasn't going to turn it down so we made plans to pick him up at the airport on Wednesday before the race and drive up to Sheridan, Wyoming that day. It's always great catching up with my dad, and a six hour drive is the perfect time to do so. Thursday before the race, my dad, being the logistical king he is, wanted to scout out the crew stops and figure out which one's he could get to. We also went on a short hike where we found a cave!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJ8VGDYkq3ThTqhWBSFNgW2xKVvijT7mI12QW8TwWwFUySYWmiAd12HNkxF2ENqJyHIjw81X47PldT7X5sNP6e9QX6xZFez7CaFrlbOTtNPbu5PO92QiV2kHWuUEqVXlMEe7s13l1cPGY/s640/blogger-image--170956346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJ8VGDYkq3ThTqhWBSFNgW2xKVvijT7mI12QW8TwWwFUySYWmiAd12HNkxF2ENqJyHIjw81X47PldT7X5sNP6e9QX6xZFez7CaFrlbOTtNPbu5PO92QiV2kHWuUEqVXlMEe7s13l1cPGY/s320/blogger-image--170956346.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"We should take a selfie." - My dad</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1HuhNEDVVsykcLgmYikwwfUQzZ7zsSOcylYCg2ZB7MiShZ6MtmNTd7jDUEK4BRWTebLBAExviZnYWOP7bo9ylPX4sikxSSxuGRbrbDU_GrTeIgkphqnpUSltcJnEn_AkWwoRwAJYsgKt/s640/blogger-image-1988266762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1HuhNEDVVsykcLgmYikwwfUQzZ7zsSOcylYCg2ZB7MiShZ6MtmNTd7jDUEK4BRWTebLBAExviZnYWOP7bo9ylPX4sikxSSxuGRbrbDU_GrTeIgkphqnpUSltcJnEn_AkWwoRwAJYsgKt/s400/blogger-image-1988266762.jpg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJ8VGDYkq3ThTqhWBSFNgW2xKVvijT7mI12QW8TwWwFUySYWmiAd12HNkxF2ENqJyHIjw81X47PldT7X5sNP6e9QX6xZFez7CaFrlbOTtNPbu5PO92QiV2kHWuUEqVXlMEe7s13l1cPGY/s640/blogger-image--170956346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
</div>
<div>
Bighorn is not an easy race to crew. Some crew stops have 90 miles in between them and crazy back roads with river crossings, so we knew he wouldn't be able to get to every one. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After scouting it out, we picked up my packet and made the plan for him to go straight from the start to the 30 mile outbound aid station, Footbridge, the turn-around point and mile 47, Jaws, the mile 82 inbound aid station, Dry Fork, and the finish. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Friday morning, I woke up at 5:30 on my own. The race didn't start until 11. I had hoped to sleep a little longer, but I was too wound up and ready to go. My dad and I ate breakfast and basically just hung out until it was time for the pre-race meeting at the finish line at 9. Afterward, we packed Rudy Rutemiller and his whole crew and pacers (there were too many to count, I think it was most of Virginia Tech) into the truck and made the 5 mile drive to the start line.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj365aPMRl_voabtw_61GCyFNnUSnaMriVctcNVp70WA5ZnDskQs2BZ5fEKpIb1_mYPIz6DitNi1ct6CYLemo1edQnfY2VivMWV_iFGAEqAgMU08Qza1hMJ_eGlBVskkUEIoNSSjmpz_VE5/s640/blogger-image-2068209852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj365aPMRl_voabtw_61GCyFNnUSnaMriVctcNVp70WA5ZnDskQs2BZ5fEKpIb1_mYPIz6DitNi1ct6CYLemo1edQnfY2VivMWV_iFGAEqAgMU08Qza1hMJ_eGlBVskkUEIoNSSjmpz_VE5/s400/blogger-image-2068209852.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minutes before the start</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The race starts on a dirt road in Tongue River Canyon. It turns to single track trail after a mile and a half but remains very exposed for the majority of the race. Just standing around, we were all getting hot and tried to hang out in the shade for as long as possible. After an eternity, the race started and the field took off. Several people jumped off the front like a 50k. I was a bit surprised, but wasn't really worried. Rudy and I ran very relaxed for the first several miles pretty much until the first aid station when we start the climbing.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-XH7hoW1Pt-objA9pcao-oFoIP7t7X4a_EPyIcN2RftkNEWkvz1b0MeoEDFn5ays2kCMBvxVGXl0F4VdIf4fyvVE163vcriRbxN8ua9tntObG_GS1HbLdJH2FQwnWbjS4IGlXPK-IueD/s640/blogger-image--130663285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-XH7hoW1Pt-objA9pcao-oFoIP7t7X4a_EPyIcN2RftkNEWkvz1b0MeoEDFn5ays2kCMBvxVGXl0F4VdIf4fyvVE163vcriRbxN8ua9tntObG_GS1HbLdJH2FQwnWbjS4IGlXPK-IueD/s400/blogger-image--130663285.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Myself and Rudy in the light blue behind me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I tried to stay relaxed and hike without putting too much effort into it, but with the sun beating down, it was difficult to not work hard on that first climb. After the mile 8 aid station, things settled down and I ran fairly easily for the next 20 miles or so with a couple of guys. I thought I felt pretty good coming into the Footbridge aid station at mile 30. Luke Nelson was still in the aid station looking terrible and over heated. I saw my dad, got refreshed, and left the aid station in roughly 4th or 5th place.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnu0fYw9YGxtLXX7BFqHRH7NMF5KGdw8_6ms3rUsz3B06m63ORTsHHVD5O0Gu6QKOdoQufjQT8segPgxEJNzasRDOVOMblz5HeK7FUdXWZm1Vt8zPDiOs3iSUGymxJBp2ZLT9DRc5kBtO/s640/blogger-image--173933205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnu0fYw9YGxtLXX7BFqHRH7NMF5KGdw8_6ms3rUsz3B06m63ORTsHHVD5O0Gu6QKOdoQufjQT8segPgxEJNzasRDOVOMblz5HeK7FUdXWZm1Vt8zPDiOs3iSUGymxJBp2ZLT9DRc5kBtO/s400/blogger-image--173933205.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming into Footbridge. Photo Wyatt. @wyattloud</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
About 20 steps outside the aid station, the heat caught up to me and things got bad quickly. I hadn't realized how dehydrated I'd gotten, or how hot I was. I took every opportunity to splash water on myself from the various streams and rivers. I didn't push it at all. I just walked. I knew if there was any way to further my deficit, it would be to push it harder on that 18 mile climb out of the canyon to the turn around. One guy passed me, and I could not have cared any less. I made it to the aid station at mile 33.5 and felt dizzy. There wasn't any shade and I just slammed a couple cups of water and left for the next station assuming that the heat would have to break at some point. When I left there they said the next one was 3.5 miles away. I figured that was going to take me about an hour at the rate I was moving. Soon after leaving the AS, Luke Nelson passed me while I was dunking in a stream. He had some words of encouragement, but he looked pretty fresh. An hour and 35 minutes later I reached the next aid station and saw that Luke was just leaving. After stating that the section was the longest 3.5 miles of my life, I found out the distance was just over 6 miles. I had long run out of water and was now cramping.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The next section was more of the same. Walk a lot, run a tiny bit, cramp, stretch, hydrate, repeat. I could see Luke in front of me for some of it, but it was only because you could see so far in front. I slopped through the muddy marsh and tried not to lose my shoes for, what seemed like, miles at a time. Jesse caught back up to me about 2 miles before the turn around. He was feeling rough too, but was moving a little better than I was. I decided the turn-around would be my regroup aid station. I'd see my dad, I knew it was the end of the long climbs for awhile, and it was going to be getting dark soon. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I plopped into a chair and ate a bunch of food. I just relaxed for a minute or two. I didn't feel rushed, and wasn't in a hurry to leave, but also made sure I didn't get too comfortable. With the food, I could feel the life coming back to me. I left there with my cold weather clothes and lights and felt actually fairly fresh, so I started running. Running felt good, I wasn't cramping, I wasn't tired anymore, and with the newly dropped temperature I wasn't sweating like crazy anymore. I wanted to be careful not to blow out my quads by running the downs too quickly, but I was feeling good...really good, and I also didn't know how long it would last. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As it would turn out, I ran the entire way back to the Footbridge AS. It had long been dark, and had encountered every other runner on the course, along with a set of green eyes I'm still telling myself was just a deer. Behind me while running down I could see flashes of lightning and heard rumbles of thunder. I'm not sure how much it rained on people still at the turn around, but it rained the perfect amount for me. Just enough to further cool me off. I remained in my tank and shorts even though I saw others in tights and jackets. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At the Footbridge AS I saw, what I thought was, the third place guy just leaving as I came in. He was doing the zombie walk. I sat down and Rudy's dad along with his crew of Guy Love, Wyatt and Chrissy were all there and started helping me. I knew there was a big climb labeled "the wall" coming up so I ate plenty and drank a cup of coffee. I wasn't quite done with the coffee so Rudy's dad walked me down to the bridge so I could finish it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As soon as you cross the bridge the trail cranks upward and remains that way for 3.5 miles. I settled into a hike and ran a couple steps occasionally until I saw the next guy's headlamp. He wasn't feeling so hot so I passed him and tore off up the trail. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The night was incredibly peaceful after I reached the top of the wall. Shooting stars and the Milky Way littered the sky. With the exception of a turned ankle and steady running, the next couple sections were largely uneventful. I thought I was in third place and kept asking how long ago the next guy left the aid station when I would arrive. Times varied from 30 to 45 minutes. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At the mile 83 aid station, I was able to see my dad again and he told me I was in second. First place, Luke, had a pacer with him and had left only a little bit ago. I thought if I pushed hard I could catch him. I left the aid station in the dark and made my way up the road, made the turn onto the little trail and came out on the road. I tripped and realized my head lamp and waist lamp were going dim very quickly. I could just barely notice that the sky wasn't totally black anymore but there wasn't nearly enough light to turn off my lights yet. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My lights went out about 15 minutes before I would've liked them to, but managed to stay upright. I knew I only had one little uphill, then a downhill then the aid station. Then a short downhill, then a medium length, but incredibly steep uphill know as the head wall, then a very long downhill into the second to last aid station. Then I'd be back in the canyon for 2 or 3 miles then pop out on the road for 5 or 6 miles (I couldn't remember) until the finish. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I kept looking ahead for Luke but never saw him. Around every bend I expected him to be there, I was running hard and surprisingly painless. I grunted my way up the head wall and ran hard on the down. Then I finally saw someone in Patagonia clothes! But as I got closer I realized it was Luke's pacer. He'd dropped his pacer. I didn't stick around to ask the reason he'd been dropped but I assume it was because Luke was hauling too. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At the aid station at mile 92 or so, I asked how far ahead Luke was. They thought he was about 30 minutes up. I knew 30 minutes would be a lot to make up in 8 miles but I took off anyway. I looked at my watch; 5:54 am. My goal shifted from catching Luke, though that would've been really cool, to breaking 20 hours. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I ran hard through the canyon not realizing how much of it was downhill. It was beautiful that time of morning. I hit the trail head and last aid station but still wasn't sure if I had 5 or 6 miles on the road but didn't stop to ask. I knew the faster I ran, the sooner I'd be done. Around every bend in the road I expected to see the paved section which meant the end was near; and every bend in the road offered only a new bend I'd hope was the last. Finally it came and I enjoyed the last little run into Dayton, over a little bridge, across the road, into the park where I could see the finish line. I looked at my watch one more time; 6:38:01. I knew I'd definitely break 20 hours now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I crossed the finish line with hugs from my dad at 6:39:02. Which was 19 hours 39 minutes and 2 seconds after we'd all started.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OsEagd0CLF9Oi_2QKqBJRMppilEPsR-fUB0iUJa-nLoHs272s_V674HSPT_oDLBjDKL3Fc7J4UeU19_Y1OzkClCI0AF0DjDehldTtv2Fy1TXomFmGy56nucGikJ7tHy8CSysHp6q3kZn/s640/blogger-image-1764960425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OsEagd0CLF9Oi_2QKqBJRMppilEPsR-fUB0iUJa-nLoHs272s_V674HSPT_oDLBjDKL3Fc7J4UeU19_Y1OzkClCI0AF0DjDehldTtv2Fy1TXomFmGy56nucGikJ7tHy8CSysHp6q3kZn/s400/blogger-image-1764960425.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48BVO8f7l3ym_YOD7bkETbuHUv3Chc0vhn00pcTV8XniLX71qw6x9fsPlaDCUCY8cX8JChjj7Tjf2mgIwdbgtaXaae0qETnOA2LKHnJymL4bD9Hy4hAwtANuorZ87quzG4L7SaTsmoAa6/s640/blogger-image--321537640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48BVO8f7l3ym_YOD7bkETbuHUv3Chc0vhn00pcTV8XniLX71qw6x9fsPlaDCUCY8cX8JChjj7Tjf2mgIwdbgtaXaae0qETnOA2LKHnJymL4bD9Hy4hAwtANuorZ87quzG4L7SaTsmoAa6/s400/blogger-image--321537640.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Guy Love. @glovevt</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OsEagd0CLF9Oi_2QKqBJRMppilEPsR-fUB0iUJa-nLoHs272s_V674HSPT_oDLBjDKL3Fc7J4UeU19_Y1OzkClCI0AF0DjDehldTtv2Fy1TXomFmGy56nucGikJ7tHy8CSysHp6q3kZn/s640/blogger-image-1764960425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
We hung out at the finish line and waited to Rudy who finished 7th in his first hundred!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Afterwards, my dad and I went back to the hotel to shower and nap but felt it would be ridiculous to waste time in a place we'd never been, so we slept for two hours then drove out to Devils Tower National Park. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObTkc2nZHXf3Ubjb_AkWmQnS42aY_YQzeRB9PQ-XYtuN53XAST7f3PALJpRlYx4eHrLpfTasbY1HZwmjLUQCGXecZjSE0qGLHdkVWAeRXo0Y2ujHuJdgYqSAGmC7hmGBkmmZIPPhCW4MP/s640/blogger-image--994023970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObTkc2nZHXf3Ubjb_AkWmQnS42aY_YQzeRB9PQ-XYtuN53XAST7f3PALJpRlYx4eHrLpfTasbY1HZwmjLUQCGXecZjSE0qGLHdkVWAeRXo0Y2ujHuJdgYqSAGmC7hmGBkmmZIPPhCW4MP/s400/blogger-image--994023970.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dad at Devil's Tower</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Overall, it was an awesome weekend, awesome race and we were both successfully wiped out!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnFHgiifIAsfNsS3mDpZtWlhtPkkGFAX7ao4mM0kvUjiDsP-t1ut66TWcUUwA63NH8Zir3K5l5rV2kKqXRUarybnHdom3Id3Hrk8bLkw3U21uTqstzPNl_Rzcra5XykmL7LCLdo1xUPiN/s640/blogger-image-1900202498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnFHgiifIAsfNsS3mDpZtWlhtPkkGFAX7ao4mM0kvUjiDsP-t1ut66TWcUUwA63NH8Zir3K5l5rV2kKqXRUarybnHdom3Id3Hrk8bLkw3U21uTqstzPNl_Rzcra5XykmL7LCLdo1xUPiN/s320/blogger-image-1900202498.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Thanks to Pearl Izumi for the support!<br />
Thanks for crewing, Dad!</div>
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-60444830564141984232014-05-17T18:58:00.002-07:002014-05-17T18:58:56.833-07:00First two races in ColoradoSalida's Run Through Time Marathon and Quad Rock 50 miler. These two races have been referred to as part of the "tour of Colorado." Though this is a very unofficial title, and everyone seems to have a different idea of which races are exactly on this tour, everyone can agree that these two are beautiful courses and fantastically organized events.<br />
<br />
Salida took place back in March and has a fairly straight forward course. You go up until almost the halfway point, and then you run down until the finish line, with the exception of one smallish climb in the second half. Throughout the race, there's about 4,750 ft of gain, and equal loss. This makes for a great early season kick off race, which brought out some big names. This being my first race in Colorado, I was somewhat starstruck when I saw people milling about the starting line whose names I'd only read about on irunfar.com.<br />
Nick Clark, Joe Grant, Jason Koop, Josh Arthur and Timmy Parr; runners that I'd read interviews with and seen in the top ten for international races. Truly strong and admirable runners were just hanging out and getting ready for a nice day in the mountains. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little intimidated by the talent at the starting line.<br />
<br />
Of course, the make-shift starting line of a chalk line sprinkled across the gravel road made this race feel a little more low-key. The race director said "go" and we all went on down the road at a very manageable pace. Once we started up the climb, we spread out and Nick Clark and Josh Arthur separated from almost everyone almost immediately. I settled into a manageable pace for the climb wanting only to get the halfway point with enough left in the legs to burn it up until the finish line.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh49txoF4SnEkeoHYA9Sf6-N40zSYeTxELi6RDHazAJaQYB-T-s73S47tCHRv8NiY9FFvv-2UTWlwC4w-BngMlC1RM24NSA8vqapWHDEspxXbDdZQzSCRJ8cbqAOYUxG_WJd2Qw-tW_ON2T/s1600/salida.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh49txoF4SnEkeoHYA9Sf6-N40zSYeTxELi6RDHazAJaQYB-T-s73S47tCHRv8NiY9FFvv-2UTWlwC4w-BngMlC1RM24NSA8vqapWHDEspxXbDdZQzSCRJ8cbqAOYUxG_WJd2Qw-tW_ON2T/s1600/salida.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Once we got to the long jeep road that would steadily climb to the halfway, the pack that I was with spread out a bit. Soon before the turn around, I saw Nick Clark and Josh Arthur running toward me coming down the road, followed by Timmy Parr, Jason Koop, Ryan Burch, and several others I didn't recognize. I arrived at the turn around in 11th place, felt good, so I started rolling. I caught a couple people and passed them, until I came up on Ryan Burch. We ran together until the last mile. I thought I could see the finish line with about a quarter mile to go once we crossed the train tracks. I ran as hard as I could, not expecting to have to cross the bridge, then go under it. As soon as we started the little paved section under the bridge, Ryan took off and I didn't even know what hit me. He put 10 seconds on me in about the last .15 or .2 miles. It was humbling for sure, but more impressive than anything. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I crossed that finish line in 7th in 3:21:58.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
QUAD ROCK 50 was an absolutely beautiful course. 25 miles in one loop, and then you retrace your steps. Three big climbs and three big descents each loop makes for 11,000 ft of gain and an equal amount of loss in 50 miles. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I stayed with my friend Ryan the night before and since he had picked up my race packet along with 3 others, we went to what seemed like the Colorado Springs house. There I met Tom, Jeff and Carson, all of them from the Springs. After hanging for a bit and sharing in a pre-race brew, I hit the hay in preparation for the 3:45 am alarm. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lining up on that starting line was a little bit more hectic. The bathroom line was a little longer than I think anyone expected, and while I won't bore anyone with the details I ended up standing on the line with about 30 seconds to spare. Thankfully, Nick Clark, the race director, postponed the start time about 5 minutes to accommodate the people still in the bathroom line. At any rate, this race seemed to be just as competitive as Salida, though, with the 25 mile turnaround being the start/finish area, the allure of being finished would probably lend itself to more DNFs if someone wasn't feeling like tackling the second 5,500 ft and 25 miles. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Nick counted down the starting time and we all started off down the only flat 2 miles of the course all day. Without knowing for sure who was in the 25 mile race and who was in the 50, I was impressed with the number of people who set a brisk pace right from the start. I settled in to my own race, which was largely uneventful until about mile 13 when I was distracted by the views, totally spaced, and missed a really well marked turn. I'd be surprised if I added more than a half mile since I didn't go too far before realizing I wasn't really on a trail anymore. Unfortunately, two other guys were following me, and they missed the turn too. I don't think we lost too much time, but we did lose a couple of positions. It was still early enough that I didn't get too frustrated over it, but I did have to consciously not speed up to try and make up time. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I caught up to a group that included Tom and we ran together in a pack of four or five until about mile 23, just a bit before the turn around. I arrived at the turn around in 10th or 11th with Jason Koop and we ran together until about mile 34, gaining a position or two when I decided to try and catch the next guy ahead of us. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QHMyF8LMdhM6_s5yXSiqF5WdJIpeI5QdMXfUdooU70w6niF2-xxxyBm1s54t95hrM74oJZOEMY-3T6O7YXLF1DEZ5r4uZbItm7eR8Q6Sw-24bMhWN_T3hKNHRFu3oe6dTVAH6pGI6rYY/s1600/53154431-QuadRock2014-1044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QHMyF8LMdhM6_s5yXSiqF5WdJIpeI5QdMXfUdooU70w6niF2-xxxyBm1s54t95hrM74oJZOEMY-3T6O7YXLF1DEZ5r4uZbItm7eR8Q6Sw-24bMhWN_T3hKNHRFu3oe6dTVAH6pGI6rYY/s1600/53154431-QuadRock2014-1044.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My legs felt fine, muscle-wise, but they started to spasm on the climb up to the Towers Road aid station at mile 35.7. From there to the finish line, it seemed to be all about managing the spasms and figuring out what to do nutritionally to fix it. I'd never had that problem before, but they seemed to stop seizing conveniently 3 miles before the end. Coming around the last corner, I saw Ryan, Tom, and Jeff, (who decided that 25 miles was enough that day) along with Andy, from the Wednesday night group. Seeing them was a welcomed sight. Though, the finish line was a little more appreciated. I crossed in 8:33:24, in 5th place. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5qiiweKLmSz3EgrXXbkai-9xaFwwZEMJhyphenhyphenVHOu6LRPDGvwKZ1UTWR-CfxFDxbz_L6Vm14I9Za7DevCWne_XfJB0h0okoCi4DF-wbHdbDqoUdSMfFAJbt9PouQ2r8klHqIIkwAJoJaQMS/s1600/finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5qiiweKLmSz3EgrXXbkai-9xaFwwZEMJhyphenhyphenVHOu6LRPDGvwKZ1UTWR-CfxFDxbz_L6Vm14I9Za7DevCWne_XfJB0h0okoCi4DF-wbHdbDqoUdSMfFAJbt9PouQ2r8klHqIIkwAJoJaQMS/s1600/finish.jpg" height="318" width="320" /></a></div>
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-65384367601198105432014-02-10T09:47:00.001-08:002014-02-10T09:47:15.374-08:00Big changesSo, most people that know me, know that there were some big changes in 2013. Big, and busy changes! 2013 was the year that Katie and I got married, and also the year we decided to bail on the East Coast and move out to Colorado. We are living in Lakewood, CO and absolutely loving it.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly, it hasn't been a very easy transition. The physical move was easy enough, and our sight-unseen apartment that we signed a lease on turned out to be awesome and in a truly great location. That part could've been a disaster. But we've each had our bumps in the road with work, and trying to figure out how things are done professionally here in Colorado. Luckily, we are both fairly easy-going and we've figured it out.<br />
<br />
Running-wise, Colorado has definitely lived up to its reputation. Since we've moved here, I've hit several of the 14ers but look forward to getting up high the rest of this year. The apartment we're living in, is within 1.5 miles from a great trail system on the local hill in Lakewood, Green Mountain. I've also met a couple of local runners, and we've started a Wednesday night group run that has showed me around to a ton of the other local trails.<br />
<br />
This year, I've also decided to start keeping track of what I'm doing in training. I've only done this before in terms of mileage for product testing for Smartwool but now I'll be keeping track of a bunch of stats and I'm hoping it'll help to keep me more accountable and actually train specifically for races. I'm not sure I'll need to publish my weekly mileage and elevation, but I'll definitely be keeping track myself. So far, I'm signed up for the Salida Marathon, Quad Rock 50 miler, and Bighorn 100. I'd also like to run a race later in the year but haven't decided which one yet.<br />
<br />
This is the first post I've written in quite a while, and while I'd like to think that it'll be a more common thing in the coming year, I'm not sure I can say that with certainty. I'll try though...<br />
<br />
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-46495852851555462912013-06-18T09:02:00.003-07:002013-06-18T10:58:36.645-07:00TARC 100<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">The Trail Animals Running Club from Boston decided that there needed to be a 100 mile race in Massachusetts. So Josh Katzman and Bob Crowley created one. They also held a 50 miler at the same time. 25 mile loops repeated four times (twice for the 50 mile, duh) with very minimal elevation change; start it at night so the heat isn't much of an issue until the end of the race; add in a few aid stations, a drop bag at the start/finish and mile 4.5 and go run 100 miles. Simple enough. Better yet, slap on a cheap price tag and you've got a really great thing going!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmacnZIZymCMkaergSyVGXE8tPU7gt3uc3QLyIlo20bq9H8JxkkmG1Ph9llaIFqOyV7uim2rUS3kNsWtQkS6PgdxsFM9QT8agtSF1iEDZypaAjY6c0NBUTEAiG6jzrTgwpIFldX642SfiE/s1600/crowd+Ron+Heerkens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmacnZIZymCMkaergSyVGXE8tPU7gt3uc3QLyIlo20bq9H8JxkkmG1Ph9llaIFqOyV7uim2rUS3kNsWtQkS6PgdxsFM9QT8agtSF1iEDZypaAjY6c0NBUTEAiG6jzrTgwpIFldX642SfiE/s400/crowd+Ron+Heerkens.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Ron Heerkens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">After my </span><a href="http://patricksrunblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/mmt-100.html" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Massanutten fiasco</a><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">, I needed some redemption and this seemed like as good of a time as any: I still had a high level of fitness, I wasn't sick, and seriously, why not just get a redemption race over-with rather than string it out.</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">I signed up the week before, figured out a carpool with David and headed up there on Thursday night amid tornadoes, pouring rain and generally unpleasant weather. Boston also got rain...which is relevant to the story. David and I slept a decent amount on Friday but just lounged for the most part (I'm still unsure of the connection between David and the guy who lived there) before heading out to the park in Weston, Mass where the race was held.</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">The VHTRC had a decent presence with 6 or 7 runners coming for the inaugural event. Skipping menial details of what kind of bagel I ate with "blank" amount of minutes before the start time...the pre-race meeting started at 6:30 where the race director told us about a little mud out on the course. A little mud. He also told us that volunteers were out on the course all night in the pouring rain marking the course. This course's map looked like a nightmare with more turns than anyone would care to count. Though, out of all the races I've run, this one was marked the most effectively. There was no way anyone could have gotten lost. They did an awesome job at that. </span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">At 6:57 we all lined up on the starting line awaiting the start. There were A LOT of starters. Especially for a first year race. I was very impressed. I think there were about 280 starters between the 50 and 100. At 7:00 pm on the dot, we all took off....some of us much faster than others. Seriously. People bolted. The majority of us made our way around the initial 4.5 mile loop in a very loose pack before getting back to the start/finish and starting the bigger loop; though, not before getting our feet nice and wet in several spots on the mini-loop. I felt very relaxed, and a little bit distant. I just made sure that I ate when I needed to, drank when I needed to and took care of myself nice and early.</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9CG-RPiP8Dej4_d3zarw_029PPoF2SM68tsi_sujpWz3W5Hjj_aJh5sz0r-D7oMxrtzp-sPMNA1S_1Oj98HJiQT5cvLL0dVfvZS3OaX86mf43DJInKE44fzaNhmgb2dh9SaxuXn2AgEn/s1600/TARC-100-Complete-FINAL-Hi-Res.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9CG-RPiP8Dej4_d3zarw_029PPoF2SM68tsi_sujpWz3W5Hjj_aJh5sz0r-D7oMxrtzp-sPMNA1S_1Oj98HJiQT5cvLL0dVfvZS3OaX86mf43DJInKE44fzaNhmgb2dh9SaxuXn2AgEn/s320/TARC-100-Complete-FINAL-Hi-Res.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The turn-filled course. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">After reaching the start/finish I grabbed my head-lamps and headed out very relaxed. I ran with Glen Redpath, Jack Pilla and Eric Ahearn (fast marathoner, first 100) and several others who I knew to be reasonably fast guys. Amid the normal banter we slopped around in the mud that was about shin deep in some spots, the creeks that were waist deep in some spots, and the sweet sweet single track. Somewhere in there, we switched on our headlamps and the crowd thinned. Glen and a handful of others went ahead, some fell behind, and some spent a few more minutes at the aid stations than others.</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Towards the middle of the first loop I needed to relieve my bladder so I pulled off the side of the trail to pee. I knew Jack was behind me about a minute but it was dark and I figured he'd just pass - no questions asked (this is not at all uncommon BTW). I heard him coming up behind me but just as he passed me he tripped on a root and narrowly missed landing in my stream. We each had a chuckle and moved on.</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">I finished the first loop having no idea where I was in the pecking order. It was 25 miles in, and I didn't care. I switched out my gel flask, added the Heed powder to my bottle and moved on. So far, the mud was "noticeable." Even "very inconvenient" in spots, but the magnitude of the toll the shoe-sucking mud was taking on the field of runners was unbeknownst to me. After the first loop, roughly 60 runners dropped out between the two races.</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">The second loop was run entirely in the dark. I ran every step I could, nice and easy, just being patient. One of the coolest parts of the course were all the times you cross paths with other runners. No one had any idea where the other runner was in the course or where exactly they were, but all night you could see headlamps to your left, right, above and sometimes below you. You never felt completely alone in the woods. </span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Around the 35 mile aid station I came upon Jack and Glen running together. I stayed with them for a bit and left to run my own race. Jack stayed with me for a bit but as we were fording one of the deeper streams he jammed his leg on a stump. The scream he let out was undeniably one of agony. He said he was fine so we moved on. I didn't get a good look at it but I know he wrapped it in a big bandage and later dropped because of it. I finished the second loop in the lead. The top two 50 milers had finished and my shoes were filled to the brim with grit, grime, mud and pebbles. At the start finish I took off my shoes and rinsed them out, took out the insoles to rinse those off and made sure my socks were clear of rocks. It only took about a minute per shoe, but it was well worth the time.</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);" />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">While I was doing that, Glen came into the aid station and we left together. We did the 4.5 mile section together and I could gauge how he was doing. When we got back to the start/finish I ditched my headlamps and left quickly. I knew Glen was a very strong runner, and would surely finish very strong. So when I left I didn't look backwards, I didn't ask aid station workers how far back he was (until mile 90), I just kept running. </span><br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">
The mud was becoming really difficult and made me realize that it turned this very easy course into one that was actually pretty difficult. Aside from the mud it was VERY runnable and I made sure to keep running everything in the third loop. On some sections there were large fields we had to cross. They really were very peaceful. High grass with a heavily traveled trail across them made for a good spot to glance over my shoulder to see a minute or two behind me. I always expected to see Glen's red hat and jersey bobbing towards me, but I didn't.<br />
<br />
I started lapping a few of the runners while I was on the third lap. We exchanged pleasantries but I didn't feel much like talking. To be honest, the third lap was lonely. I didn't spend any more than a few seconds at any aid station and I just wanted to be done running.<br />
<br />
Arriving back at the start/finish completing 75 miles, Josh the RD was there and he helped me with rinsing out my shoes and insoles. I wanted to make sure I could run the last 25 without any issues (at least to start). Josh was a brave man even coming within 20 yards of my shoes at that point. They'd been wet for many many hours and I can't imagine how they must have smelled.<br />
<br />
I ran the 4.5 mile loop and passed a few more people, always exchanging "hellos" and "good jobs." Despite the circumstances of the race with the mud and difficulty, I had an immense amount of admiration for the people who were just starting their third loop. They were in for a looooong 2nd 50 miles but they were smiling and laughing and talking with the people they ran with and looked like they were just having a grand old time...all while their feet were in the process of rotting.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnV31rPeA0YqbwHvuT6s65xyrtKbXu45JSKe_7TY619m-nEOzr0xXfyvg_xl8KlkosesVy7lAgCwMUJ6Hz6cAk6EZsO19bXSBatsev4f91v9X1c0zZ68x0wD6wyfpetpOwBwjpMH-iLqXd/s1600/josh+and+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnV31rPeA0YqbwHvuT6s65xyrtKbXu45JSKe_7TY619m-nEOzr0xXfyvg_xl8KlkosesVy7lAgCwMUJ6Hz6cAk6EZsO19bXSBatsev4f91v9X1c0zZ68x0wD6wyfpetpOwBwjpMH-iLqXd/s400/josh+and+me.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josh the RD</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Shortly after I left the start/finish for the last 20 miles my left knee stopped bending. It was really painful, but I just figured it was because I'd twisted my right ankle on the second loop and unknowingly favored my left leg. I realized that as long as I was running, it was manageable, but walking made me want to puke, so I didn't really have a choice. When I arrived at Ripley #1 (I think about mile 85ish) I stopped moving my leg to fill my bottles and eat a banana. It was probably the worst decision I made all day; my knee froze.<br />
I limped out of the aid station seeing stars and I instantly felt the pain all the way into my stomach. I knew if I could just get momentum for running again, I'd be fine, but the momentum just wasn't there. I came up on a group of 3 guys just as we came up on a fairly deep stream (upper thigh depth) with a sign that warned "unstable rock wall." Two guys opted for the rocks, a guy with a pony tail and green shirt opted for straight through the water and so did I. Green shirt made it across before I did but as I got to the deepest part of the stream my foot slipped beneath a rock and twisted my left hurt knee. I must have let out quite the yelp because the pony-tailed man didn't miss a beat. He immediately turned around and offered a hand. I took his hand and he yanked me straight out of the water. It all happened so quickly and my vision started blurring the pain was so striking. I think (and hope) I muttered a "thank you" before leaving. I knew that I had to start running before I had too much time to think about my knee. So if you're reading this, green-shirted-pony-tail man, thank you.<br />
<br />
I continued on and left the Ripley #2 (mile 90) aid station after finding out I had about 20 minutes on Glen. I left just after a couple guys. I reached them just after a stroll across a big field that gave way to some really deep mud. On one of the big spots, I fell into a mid-thigh deep hole under the mud and it tripped me enough to cause me to belly flop and plunge my hand-bottle deep into the muck. The two guys behind me made sure I was okay, I thanked them and ran on. If it's a secret so far, I appreciated all the help from the people on the course.<br />
<br />
The rest of the section until I reached 97 I was looking over my shoulder. 20 minutes would be a lot to make up but it would be doable if Glen decided to burn it, and I knew it was not beyond him to do that. From the last time I left the Gun Club aid station (97) I knew as long as I kept running I could win. It was a very relaxing feeling, even though I wasn't relaxed. I reached the last mile, and the insane amount of mud that it held. I didn't waste time dancing around the sides. I was now covered from shoulders to the soles of my feet in black mud. I had nothing to lose, nothing to hold back, and no reason not to swim in the stuff.<br />
<br />
I crossed the finish line in first in a time of 19:35:46. Not a PR but given the day, I'll take it.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5G_LU9FxPawL1-1f5KaK1zhuACAxaUoavn0l5whCsNJHtNHiGD3-A9zO5AIt6iDe5xh-pJv5ROEJQrg2IUm-_tchN0edSPlNNdmInGDmwP9aGpFSmj9R2VmND8q-qoLXlBquFGeriCdu/s1600/mud+finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5G_LU9FxPawL1-1f5KaK1zhuACAxaUoavn0l5whCsNJHtNHiGD3-A9zO5AIt6iDe5xh-pJv5ROEJQrg2IUm-_tchN0edSPlNNdmInGDmwP9aGpFSmj9R2VmND8q-qoLXlBquFGeriCdu/s400/mud+finish.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Topham Photography</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
To add to the dramatics of the race, Padraig Mullens caught Glen and took 2nd in the last 3 miles finishing in 20:09:05; Glen Redpath rounded out top 3 with 20:15:46. On the women's side, Donna Utakis 1st in 22:37:27, Sara Walsh 2nd in 25:26:37, and Katya O'Hagan was 3rd in 26:40:17.<br />
<br />
There were about 135 finishers between the 50 and the 100 with an attrition rate of 60%. AND 100% finishing rate for VHTRC. What's up!<br />
<br />
<b>The TARC 100 was a first year event, but ran very smoothly and professionally. Thank you to the RDs, the volunteers and especially Josh, who cleaned my shoes and socks and dumped water on me at the end. <u><i>Way above and beyond RD duty.</i></u> </b></div>
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-19593492865822075572013-05-29T10:50:00.002-07:002013-05-29T10:50:36.727-07:00Races as motivationWe all have motivation issues. Even the people that you only see (or forcibly read about on Facebook posts) waking up at 3 and 4 in the morning to get their 20 miles per day would rather sleep in. After working all day, of course it is more appealing to take a nap, or make a bag of pop corn and clock into your couch and waste away; only turning or moving to avoid getting bed sores. Instead of eating healthy foods, I think everyone would rather eat pizza for every meal followed by cake. Everyone is human. Even the serial Facebook informer.<br />
<br />
Motivation is a funny thing. Dogs are motivated by food or by praise. Not surprisingly, people are motivated by the same things. Some people run or workout for the extra piece of cake. And some people run and workout to post their pictures and workouts to social media sites and receive "likes."<br />
<br />
I've been listening to <a href="http://ultrarunnerpodcast.com/">Ultrarunner Podcast</a> quite a bit lately and I listened to a great one featuring Max King and then another one featuring Michael Wardian. Both are phenomenal runners. And both are extremely versatile. They win races both at the ultramarathon distance and also shorter distances of 5k, 10k and marathons. Aside from the fact that they are both versatile, and both speedy Olympic marathon trials qualifiers, they actually don't have much in common. King is built like a powerhouse who won the World Mountain Running Championships as well as the Olympic trials for steeplechase - Wardian is built closer to the Kenyans yet places 3rd at the Badwater 135 one week and wins an indoor marathon the next.<br />
<br />
Whenever I listen to or read interviews, I try to apply something to my own running. Even though these guys are extremely out of my league in terms of being competitive they are perhaps the most relateable. They run. A lot. They race. A lot. But they don't just race one race. They race short and long and all types of terrain - road, trail, and track.<br />
<br />
What do either of these guys have to do with motivation aside from the fact that they have enough to solve the obesity problem in this country?<br />
<br />
With a looming race and a desire to perform, that could be all the motivation anyone needs. Any time someone comes into the running store telling us they have some problems staying motivated, we suggest they sign up for a race, it doesn't have to be long. But knowing that you have a race coming up, might give you a reason to lace up the shoes in the summer's humidity and go an extra mile or 5.Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-44546858108783017702013-05-21T12:56:00.001-07:002013-05-21T12:56:14.975-07:00MMT 100Saturday I ran the Massanutten Mountain Trails 100. Well, to be more specific, I started the race. But dropped out. I'm just now reaching a mindset that I'm able to look at the race from some sort of objective standpoint and dissect it to a point that makes any sense; without feeling like I "failed" or just came up with "excuses." That being said, the past couple days have largely been spent moping, being generally down, and genuinely sad about the way the race played out.<br />
<br />
This was a race I had been looking forward to since December when I found out that I had gotten into the race. It had been a long time since I was truly looking forward to a race with happy anticipation. I've run races recently, but every race this year has been considered a "training run" for Massanutten. I had trained harder, and put in more miles, more long runs, I actually did some speed work, and purposely destroyed my feet every chance I got in giddy anticipation of the sheer amount of rocks on the Massanutten course. It's a home town course and I got out on it every chance I could. I even did the first 63 miles solo on a training run carrying my supplies the whole way. I trained to win this thing. I wanted a Virginia Happy Trail Runner's Club member to win it out-right. The women's side has been won by a VHTRC member for the past couple years, which is awesome, but I thought it'd be cool to bring it home for the men.<br />
<br />
For some reason, I put a lot of pressure on myself for this race. There were several fast guys there who could possibly win and I knew who they were. If they beat me, I wanted it to be because they were faster, older, or more experienced. But I wanted to be sure I trained harder than them.<br />
<br />
All of that being said, I guess it's time I explain what happened. Even now, the reasoning still sounds a little like excuses but it is what it is.<br />
<br />
Katie and I got married on April 27th and it was awesome. The wedding and everything was such a blast. Afterward we went to Costa Rica on our honeymoon, which was also amazing. It is such a beautiful country and the people are very nice as well. The week before the wedding, I had my last really long runs. From there, it would be two weeks of just running to maintain fitness and a one week taper until the race. Everything went as planned. While in Costa Rica I didn't run much, but enough just to keep the legs moving. But as soon as Katie and I got back from CR, we both got pretty sick with some sort of intestinal thing. It wasn't pretty but we assumed it was something we ate since we didn't drink any local water because we'd been warned about that.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to the Monday before the race, 10 days after we got back, and I was finally starting to feel better. Tuesday, I felt fine, so I thought it was a good ol' "game on" for the race. The whole rest of the week I felt fine, and when Friday afternoon rolled around, I found myself setting up my camping stuff with my dad for the night and listening to the pre-race brief.<br />
<br />
Saturday morning, I woke at 2:44 buzzed. I was so ready, I woke up a minute before my alarm. I slept well, and even though I only slept about 4 and a half hours, it felt like enough. Besides, I was sure it was more than most people got. My dad and I got the crew gear ready, and I went over the specifics of what I needed where. He'd been to so many of my races, I think he knew all of it already but he listened anyway.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to the start of the race, we all moved away from the safety of the start/finish line tent at 4:00 on the dot and into the darkness with headlamps bobbing. I wanted to make sure that I was never running any faster than was comfortable. After mile 70, if I felt like I could go harder, I would. But before then, I wanted to just cruise, no hard breathing. Even though I didn't feel like I was working hard, it didn't take long to get quite sweaty because of the humidity and lack of air flow.<br />
<br />
We all made our way up Short Mountain in the dark, got to the ridge and ran along rather comfortably. No one took off at a sprint and that was fine. I wouldn't have followed if they did. It got light while we were just about to descend into the Edinburgh Gap (mile 12 ish) and a group of 5 or 6 of us got there a minute or two under two hours. I tossed my dad my headlamps and he was ready with replacement bottles. I grabbed a couple bananas and left for the next climb. Again, no hard work. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT1s-_HwTBzXuc5iF6pp1XZpvU9AM5Kkzf34lpT3wBGnZ5li_79obHs2ljCjvqh96jXehIz0sVlXpynMJSCoY9O8tFe_gUdT4nQyBfEKATVN6JiJCKNmYznv5aHggZaAy60qQQeYhoyPe2/s1600/bgill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT1s-_HwTBzXuc5iF6pp1XZpvU9AM5Kkzf34lpT3wBGnZ5li_79obHs2ljCjvqh96jXehIz0sVlXpynMJSCoY9O8tFe_gUdT4nQyBfEKATVN6JiJCKNmYznv5aHggZaAy60qQQeYhoyPe2/s320/bgill.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Bobby Gill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On the next climb, I ran alone for the most part with Jason Lantz and Denis just ahead about a minute. On long straight stretches, I'd see them up ahead but I wasn't chasing them by any stretch of the imagination. Through Woodstock Tower, and Powell's Fort we all stayed within a minute or two. I imagined I wasn't the only one just cruising. No one looked to be working very hard.<br />
<br />
The climb after Powell's Fort, I found myself in the lead and didn't see anyone behind me, but figured they weren't far behind. I got into Elizabeth's Furnace (33 ish) first, got new bottles from my dad and started up the Shawl Gap climb. On my way up I saw a black bear and as soon as it saw me, it turned around and fled. I thought it might have been a cub because it was pretty small which meant that mama bear was around somewhere, but I didn't see any others...though I stayed alert for awhile after that just in case.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD-5WMPyEtaSbxbAM90ykB-vBG1Ey6CfMmdKiZ1yMLR6ARY4UQqevb-rErANTSVSXMefULpiTQWHn3iLQ3NjM7fRlkIrMuqJTUlE9FdyOonzd3vgJOi5H081fogva0y5KzY8oQN5jWHhrD/s1600/shawl+gap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD-5WMPyEtaSbxbAM90ykB-vBG1Ey6CfMmdKiZ1yMLR6ARY4UQqevb-rErANTSVSXMefULpiTQWHn3iLQ3NjM7fRlkIrMuqJTUlE9FdyOonzd3vgJOi5H081fogva0y5KzY8oQN5jWHhrD/s320/shawl+gap.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Running down the backside of Shawl, I expected to see Jason because he tends to run more of the climbs earlier in the races. I saw my dad at the Shawl Gap aid station (38) and grabbed my pack since there would be a longer section coming up. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBjRQxBXgonPt7VBoAPkrmzKOW-wsumwPG4skfPczhBoZWvZTZvgE1bBQ8kBTTpifu49gAMvryjr6rCqamvyltZNQ8rYEodbRVAss6R08Iy2YTLZk6CL7CJMBXJ1ZjG9_wn46bDppf-wBP/s1600/me+and+dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBjRQxBXgonPt7VBoAPkrmzKOW-wsumwPG4skfPczhBoZWvZTZvgE1bBQ8kBTTpifu49gAMvryjr6rCqamvyltZNQ8rYEodbRVAss6R08Iy2YTLZk6CL7CJMBXJ1ZjG9_wn46bDppf-wBP/s320/me+and+dad.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The race felt easy so far. I hadn't been working hard at all. I started imagining myself floating down the trail at mile 80 and 90 effortlessly. Jason came into the AS a minute or so later and we left about the same time. We ran the road section to Veach Gap (42) together and Jim Blandford (who would later win the race) joined us for the climb out of the aid station. Climbing out of there, Jason and Jim went on ahead during the long section. Right near the top of the climb, my calves and fore-arms started to cramp. It almost never happens to me, especially when I stay on top of my nutrition like I was doing that day. I took an extra Enduralyte and the issue dissipated pretty quickly. I thought it was nothing more than needing to bump up my salt intake for the day since it was so humid. I still felt fine, my legs still had a spring in their step, and everything else felt great.<br />
<br />
Just before the Indian Grave AS (50) it happened again. At the aid station, Jim had already left. I ate salty foods and started the 4 mile road section to Habron Gap. Jason went ahead, and still, this early in the race, I didn't try to keep up. Though, about a mile before Habron, everything seized. My forearms cramped, as did my calves, and one quad. I, all of a sudden, didn't feel well. I got to the Habron Gap AS and told my dad I was cramping a lot and my pacer, Jeremy Ramsey, was there as well. He asked what I'd been taking and I told him. Everyone around us had a strange look on their face like, <i>it sounds like you're doing everything right...</i> Jeremy suggested maybe taking the next long section especially easy and seeing what I felt like at Camp Roosevelt.<br />
<br />
The climb up Habron was slow to say the least. I didn't want to run it and made myself go even slower and tried to catch up on my nutrition. That was the only thing that I could imagine it could be. Once I reached the ridge, I ran easily what I could, but never pushed it. I felt like I was going so slowly, it was frustrating. While I was on the ridge, I realized something was wrong. I couldn't pin-point what it was. My head was foggy, my sight started getting blurry and I started seeing multiples of things. I slowed down and was drinking both electrolyte drink and water, and taking electrolyte tablets and eating gels and real food more frequently than I ever have in the past, and my condition seemed to be declining still.<br />
<br />
Upon reaching Camp Roosevelt I sat down. I wasn't hungry because I'd been eating, but I ate anyway. I promptly threw it up. I felt like I was going to pass out so I lied on the cot they had set up and things got even foggier. Something was definitely wrong. I'd never experienced anything like that. After 10 minutes and talking to my dad and Jeremy we didn't know what to do. I couldn't imagine what could be happening and quite honestly, that scared me more than anything. Any time I'd had an issue in the past, I knew what could fix it. It was always fixed by a reset. Slow down, eat more, drink more, get on top of your salt and electrolytes and go through a "system restart" if you will. The only problem is that I'd been resetting since the top of the Veach Climb and I'd only declined.<br />
<br />
Somebody asked if I'd been sick lately and suddenly it all made a little bit of sense. Except for Tuesday-Friday of last week, I'd been sick with whatever-it-was for the previous 10 days. That dehydrated me and trust me...I wasn't absorbing a whole lot of vitamins and minerals from my food during that time... My big question was whether or not it could be fixed in the course of the next 38 miles. So Jeremy and I left the aid station planning to just walk and see if I could feel better.<br />
<br />
With my head still spinning and my vision still doubled, we started up the trail. As the climb turned steeper, I think I realized that I wasn't going to get better if I continued. I think I was in such a deficit, nothing would improve unless I stopped. My body was sending me a message, a rather strong one at that, to stop. And when I got to the Gap Creek Aid Station at mile 69.8, I listened to that message before it involved me passing out on the side of a mountain. I'd like to think that I made a smart decision to stop because I'm not sure what would've happened. Maybe I would have been able to <i>death march it</i> to the finish line. But maybe not. That's also not what I went to do. I wanted to run a race, win or lose, I wanted to at the very least lose the race while pushing myself and finishing.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how much more disappointed I could have been about it. But that's just the way things go sometimes. <br />
<br />
I really appreciate my dad coming out and supporting me for the duration of the time I was out there. Also, Jeremy definitely kept me entertained out there on our stroll through the woods on the last section.<br />
Thank you to both of you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-75565167519046429432013-04-08T11:36:00.002-07:002013-04-08T11:36:35.416-07:00City SlickerSaturday I moved from the suburbs to the big city. No, not in DC, but close, Rosslyn (just over the Key Bridge from DC). Katie and I are getting married at the end of the month (WIN) and so we found an apartment we could live in after the wedding. While she isn't moving in until after the wedding, I moved in on Saturday. It's a small apartment with nothing extra. Main room, kitchen, bathroom and bedroom and plenty of windows. It's quaint and perfect for us.<br />
<br />
I'm not going to lie, I kind of dreaded moving into the city. I think I was more nervous about moving into a city than I am about getting married (I'm just plain excited for that!). The last real city I lived in was Richmond, but Richmond has a sweet trail system and the James river to escape the skyscrapers and business people. Rosslyn has the Custis Trail, which leads to the W.O.&D. trail....but all 40 some miles of that are paved, and are FLOODED with high-speed bike commuters. It's pretty much like running on the road, except running the road is probably safer with some of the sound-barrier-breaking speeds these bikers are riding. I thought I was going to have to succumb to all roads until the weekends, when I could head out to the mountains.<br />
<br />
Then I remembered a couple years ago I ran the Potomac Heritage 50k put on by the VHTRC. I didn't actually run the whole thing - a strange sharp pain in my foot scared me into dropping after 14 miles or so since I was leaving for my cross country trip two months later. But from what I did remember it was largely on a trail, so I looked up the route and saw that it crossed the Key Bridge (.9 miles from my new crib) and got on the Potomac Heritage Trail and stayed on it for 10 miles in one direction. Saturday was spent organizing stuff in the new place (and realizing I have way more crap than I thought I did). But Sunday, I decided I'd go out and explore this trail.<br />
<br />
I ran down the .9 miles to the trail and have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. The beginning, and parts of the trail are pancake flat and smooth as butter, all while cruising right along the Potomac River. These parts are aesthetically pleasing, and mentally rejuvenating, but about as physically demanding as watching TV. Though other parts of it beg for slightly more attention while picking your way through large rocks and roots, at times seeming a lot like the Massanutten course in terms of the amount of rocks. There are even some pretty steep hills. I decided to run the whole trail end to end and back to my new place while adding in some of the little side trails and it made for a good day exploring. It put my mind at ease in terms of living in the city knowing this little gem is close by.Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-49404811857607188972013-04-01T12:35:00.003-07:002013-04-01T12:35:49.171-07:00More pics than words. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
What a week. All last week I was battling a serious cold and so I didn't get much running done. I had initially planned on running the first 30 or so miles of the Massanutten course on Saturday because I'd never been on that part of the course before. Dave said he wanted to come out and leapfrog so he could get some miles in and provide a bit of aid. I don't really feel like writing about it. I had no energy since I was still a little sick (which I didn't really realize until I started running), but I did it, and took some pictures and by the end, I wasn't sick anymore. Here they are. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5PWzpFhNrkB1h6_fHtMobcYOYnkdrNOUUlgGpAAfWdMrYNOIWtAtUjE5lbif8i8zc3z3veIES3nNhhdqzvxksDEM9rg0WegQ6_IUTN2ITZy7uDy4CJAhD6H2MOVYQc8jOJagkaVEntNa/s1600/IMG_0673.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5PWzpFhNrkB1h6_fHtMobcYOYnkdrNOUUlgGpAAfWdMrYNOIWtAtUjE5lbif8i8zc3z3veIES3nNhhdqzvxksDEM9rg0WegQ6_IUTN2ITZy7uDy4CJAhD6H2MOVYQc8jOJagkaVEntNa/s400/IMG_0673.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Western Ridge of the Massanuttens </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7U2pAGusVDnaIE_wN9GJNkMQxYuREcb8k3EKvVMnJJoioPjj_FDoZ-wudE8bBnGTJPSSCICBxMtYLIxwc0rra8SdnXpQ0toTSxE9IM3VL9qATaCHk1v0xrBFdYW1eWxi__rGqxMVv1v0/s1600/IMG_0674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7U2pAGusVDnaIE_wN9GJNkMQxYuREcb8k3EKvVMnJJoioPjj_FDoZ-wudE8bBnGTJPSSCICBxMtYLIxwc0rra8SdnXpQ0toTSxE9IM3VL9qATaCHk1v0xrBFdYW1eWxi__rGqxMVv1v0/s400/IMG_0674.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail and leaning trees coming down from Short Mountain into Edinburg Gap</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNqKEzZVli92bCRfniQ-1hrEAOs0LD4wmtxe_aNRN1XVTjzbcPKjrJE5c0sOMcwbuQZ0AeVNyM3cOVdyW-kjxVj8-SZZiL9J97LeOpw123sSsNZEcXWl4KPYF7USOay0tLmrWEj9p7j-o/s1600/IMG_0678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNqKEzZVli92bCRfniQ-1hrEAOs0LD4wmtxe_aNRN1XVTjzbcPKjrJE5c0sOMcwbuQZ0AeVNyM3cOVdyW-kjxVj8-SZZiL9J97LeOpw123sSsNZEcXWl4KPYF7USOay0tLmrWEj9p7j-o/s400/IMG_0678.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vista in front of Woodstock Tower</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia5y3QBPYqtbRrU-rCu3Irg9p51XST8wwgon9hlPYnRhcdAp4KTH74Gw2B92tCz_RVlmhsEs94Ll7Ea7js8GgREHvK3Q2I3lFLb7bfE8-fuWISRDTM43TlZ3xFN0MsMC3Yed6pSl1IJoSg/s1600/IMG_0680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia5y3QBPYqtbRrU-rCu3Irg9p51XST8wwgon9hlPYnRhcdAp4KTH74Gw2B92tCz_RVlmhsEs94Ll7Ea7js8GgREHvK3Q2I3lFLb7bfE8-fuWISRDTM43TlZ3xFN0MsMC3Yed6pSl1IJoSg/s400/IMG_0680.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back toward the climb up Blue </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8oi5tdffHuW0x0KAw0pYFfP6hRa87hnRbliE5ONvkaK5uCfYrhg_Dhsbz_LHqW81NhukNNV0IYChmjt4FQtGMq1z_OuMoQmjoSB8faheowdEeVOQYKA3qFCUNL9Zqyoc5N8HwLdX6TS2w/s1600/IMG_0682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8oi5tdffHuW0x0KAw0pYFfP6hRa87hnRbliE5ONvkaK5uCfYrhg_Dhsbz_LHqW81NhukNNV0IYChmjt4FQtGMq1z_OuMoQmjoSB8faheowdEeVOQYKA3qFCUNL9Zqyoc5N8HwLdX6TS2w/s400/IMG_0682.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling like a champ...or not. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb_jxm-_4n6gK0u-A6ynjxDJF05L_TmUNKfs6y33xmB4Q1fZvab89sBftHmQtQMwwA1PH9tFpGrq79oq5GxZr9XVAOPjwtIIccjdop2TYlXs4H8TZqDT5fbun5lf6iMMOiHFpQOHoy9Pw/s1600/IMG_0683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb_jxm-_4n6gK0u-A6ynjxDJF05L_TmUNKfs6y33xmB4Q1fZvab89sBftHmQtQMwwA1PH9tFpGrq79oq5GxZr9XVAOPjwtIIccjdop2TYlXs4H8TZqDT5fbun5lf6iMMOiHFpQOHoy9Pw/s400/IMG_0683.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adam</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRqzdivlBhT3OJBvZgyR1uB-ZOdyV2pYT-OQKrimeWXEClqvHZe9H-MO-H26fa4idwjaE-BLYeDH2UdEwcKdn9e1H0Mm1LUqBErXMPfMrqARFLpC3btcAPMUhiDfYmmcQo0W2xTD2M2z4/s1600/IMG_0679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRqzdivlBhT3OJBvZgyR1uB-ZOdyV2pYT-OQKrimeWXEClqvHZe9H-MO-H26fa4idwjaE-BLYeDH2UdEwcKdn9e1H0Mm1LUqBErXMPfMrqARFLpC3btcAPMUhiDfYmmcQo0W2xTD2M2z4/s400/IMG_0679.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of some mountain. Maybe Signal Knob but I doubt it. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJDdgq92aFikdEM2OIPJBikuvYg4dkMwDmWJ5gFZet0xvKBAr5f1NCknQQdDGx8gOX9HONmSBMwNaI38GE4NYcEUU2hj3190v28YeUidIbkZ_G5ys2flaRhu9M4PvUMa8YqZp8R71CAGa/s1600/IMG_0688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJDdgq92aFikdEM2OIPJBikuvYg4dkMwDmWJ5gFZet0xvKBAr5f1NCknQQdDGx8gOX9HONmSBMwNaI38GE4NYcEUU2hj3190v28YeUidIbkZ_G5ys2flaRhu9M4PvUMa8YqZp8R71CAGa/s400/IMG_0688.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water was clear </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh212LvRRw74hEc558kZBtc0hcuMJD21rTmGHByLRJBlRSVGBD7jNrUZZijc5X49oIPT8CRdYwJZjV9bxx_r9bognNqcmxvh868YtsnJ00uUpatXLmSF_EO-CPv28XRxNLqy-qivKv5lJkw/s1600/IMG_0689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh212LvRRw74hEc558kZBtc0hcuMJD21rTmGHByLRJBlRSVGBD7jNrUZZijc5X49oIPT8CRdYwJZjV9bxx_r9bognNqcmxvh868YtsnJ00uUpatXLmSF_EO-CPv28XRxNLqy-qivKv5lJkw/s400/IMG_0689.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The End.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-76424049470452111312013-03-25T11:34:00.002-07:002013-03-25T11:34:45.575-07:00Terrapin Mountain 50kYou win some and you lose some, and sometimes you take a wrong turn less than a mile from the end go an extra 1.5 miles out figure out this can't be right and turn around to add an extra 3 and really lose some.<br />
<br />
I had never run Terrapin before, but always wanted to. This year, I was able to. I drove down on Friday afternoon and picked up my friend, Matt from JMU on the way. We were planning on going by Clark Zealand's (race director) running store, The Aid Station, then going to the start line where they had packet pickup. The Aid Station was very impressive. It's all the trail shoes and stuff for ultra and trail running you see on-line but no one carries in stores because there's not a "big enough demand for it." Well, the Aid Station is where it all is.<br />
<br />
Matt and I arrived at the starting line around 6 o'clock to the smell of fresh pizza from a Domino's truck. That truck rules and if I ever win the lottery, I'm buying one complete with a staff to just live in the back and bake me hot fresh pizza at all hours of the day. Anyway, we spent the evening visiting with friends, eating pizza, and enjoying the cool mountain air. Oh, and Matt didn't bring a jacket or coat to camp in March. Lucky for him, I brought an extra couple layers. He probably would've died of exposure if I hadn't. I probably saved his life, no big deal.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lJSQxYq6ZcLH5dOD_qbb22xnhebFFfO4Bg4GEJTwtDD_T4MDBBs336umtN152OMG5sQKjlcQ8Ludt3fEXCSY4edXdBTLwqh_CY7IuEFjdLtlacR1PrXkZhkuNwksuAJfZx4oVsXZvxdB/s1600/IMG_0658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lJSQxYq6ZcLH5dOD_qbb22xnhebFFfO4Bg4GEJTwtDD_T4MDBBs336umtN152OMG5sQKjlcQ8Ludt3fEXCSY4edXdBTLwqh_CY7IuEFjdLtlacR1PrXkZhkuNwksuAJfZx4oVsXZvxdB/s320/IMG_0658.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terrapin Mt evening before race</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The temperature probably only dipped down to the low 20s that night, I doubt much lower but it was chilly. We awoke the next morning to Clark's voice over the loud-speaker. "Good morning everyone, please check in....we have coffee for you." The man was luring us all out of our toasty sleeping bags with the promise of caffeine and warmth. The problem was, there was a bridge of chilly air between the starting and ending stages of warmth.<br />
<br />
Fast forward, to the race: we started with the sound of a gong. A real one, made by the cymbal company Zildjian. I didn't stick around to ask them who's gong is was. We were off. The group off the front was sizable containing both the 50k race and the 1/2 marathon race. Down the road we made a left, then we made a SHARP LEFT and a SHARP RIGHT. These directions would be important later...but then again, opening my eyes would've been more helpful.<br />
<br />
I had a goal to finish under 4:30 just based on what people I knew had done. After a mile we started to climb a little more gradually people spaced out a bit and I ran in a group with Jordan Whitlock, Neal Gorman, and a guy named Ryan Welts who was from New Hampshire. Frank, Sam, and a guy everyone just referred to as "the 2:30 marathoner" took the first climb to Camping Gap #1 a little more ambitiously than we did. The four of us traded spots a couple times up the first almost 2,000' climb but were all within about 2 minutes of each going through the top of the climb. Immediately following the aid station at the top, we descended the other side of the mountain. Neal blew us away and seemed to be making a break for the leaders as expected. Jordan, Ryan and I ran pretty conservatively down the other side blowing through the second aid station.<br />
<br />
Toward the bottom, I pressed on and went through the third aid station without stopping. I saw Neal up ahead during the next climb and figured I was staying about a minute behind him consistently. I caught him after we entered the steeper single track on our way back to Camping Gap #2 and Ryan caught up with me again. Neal said something about not feeling great, which would explain why we caught him. Ryan and I ran all the way back through the fourth aid station and up to Camping Gap #2 together. We were running pretty conservatively I think but still not going too slowly either. On some of the switchbacks we could look behind us to see if there was anyone coming for us, and we didn't see anyone. When we reached the aid station at the top, Horton yelled to us that we were 4 minutes behind Sam and Frank who were running together. Ryan and I started the White Oak Ridge loop together but I lost him on the first part.<br />
<br />
That loop was really my only down spot of the race. The grassy double track made it look less steep than it was and became discouraging because it was difficult to run. I knew I'd feel guilty walking it, so I just kept running and tried to keep my heart rate under control.<br />
<br />
After close to 3,400 ft of somewhat continuous climbing, the summit is rather uneventful since it's all wooded but soon enough, I started running down. I let gravity do the work and I just focused on staying upright. Rolling back into Camping Gap #3 for the last time, Horton yelled that Frank and Sam were still 3 or 4 minutes ahead. I couldn't believe I hadn't made up any significant time after the downhill I'd just come off. From Camping Gap #3, it's largely downhill to the finish with a few short but steep climbs. The first being the steepest up Terrapin Mountain. I knew the chances of catching them on an uphill would be highly unlikely and we still had 8 or 9 miles left, so I took the climb hard but not too hard.<br />
<br />
As soon as I punched my bib number at the top of the climb proving I was there, I charged down the mountain. The trail gets very technical in a few spots with loose rocks, loose dirt, little to no footing and the pair of rocks that make up "Fat Man's Misery." Fat Man's really is rough. It's a steep downhill alley of slanted rocks that I initially went to jump down and quickly realized that was a bad idea because I slid the whole way down it just pushing off one wall to keep my face from being scraped off. I continued to careen down the mountain now passing 1/2 marathoners but keeping an eye out for Sam and Frank.<br />
<br />
The last aid station is at the end of a little 1/8 mile spur as I was going down to the spur, I saw the two of them coming up the trail. I looked at my watch and noted the time so I could see how long it took me to get to that same spot. Upon reaching the aid station, I snagged one gel and yelled out my number. I didn't even stop running. I reached the spot where I crossed them with a gap of 2 minutes. I was closing.<br />
<br />
The last section I had heard was all very run-able but was also 5.5 miles long. If I pushed really hard too early they might out surge me at the very end so I made sure to never be comfortable but not go too hard. It was very exciting! I felt like I was hunting. The trail meanders in and out of the ridges of the mountain and every time I came around a corner I looked for them. I stayed calm...until I saw them. We were still too high on the mountain to give it all I had. I knew we still must have had about 2.5-3 miles left. I increased a little bit but not too much. They had a 1:15 lead on me. I saw them on the next ridge just disappear beyond sight as I came into the ridge. 1:10 lead.<br />
<br />
Finally, came the creek crossing. As I descended to the creek, I saw one of their heads disappear around the corner. This is normally a somewhat calmer crossing from what I've heard, but this year it was flowing pretty heavily, I jumped in and crossed not even thinking of any way to keep my feet dry. I got to the same point where I saw them within 1 minute.<br />
<br />
I turned down the wide trail and stood on the gas pedal. I knew it was just a rough gravel trail, that gave way to a smooth gravel road, which turned right onto a paved road, and then I'd be home. I saw the "1 mile to go" sign at 4 hours and 10 minutes thought, sweet, I'll probably finish by 4:16 and turned off my brain. I told myself not to think and just run as hard as I could...but I didn't realize I actually stopped thinking. I reached the road and took the right but didn't see them. I knew they had to be close, I surged harder and harder but still couldn't see them. 4:15 came and went...4:16....4:17...4:20....? Someone had to be messing with us with that one mile sign. At 4:25 I decided I had made a wrong turn. I ran back to the last intersection with streamers and sure enough, I was supposed to go LEFT and THEN RIGHT. I didn't know how many people had passed me but I went the right way and found the finish line. I crossed in 4:35 in 8th place.<br />
<br />
Things I learned from this race:<br />
-Run hard but not so hard you can't see a thousand streamers and chalk arrows in front of your face.<br />
-It's probably best to just not tell Horton you got lost - even if you admit you're an idiot for it. He will make relentless fun of you.<br />
-Don't turn your brain off.<br />
-I actually can turn my brain off....which I think is more scary than anything.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDMj-XaWVivtZ6cjT8RrIXnQbKDGrZg6BHHXoLhGTYIX35LXMbGsozG7QlKTlHj6ieCe0Hg5pkH53IsvY4QQm-StdVBfXqHkqcv8ro6fvkk9myTCmqNu5TnhGHqGiOi0lRmjG_j6MbXAiJ/s1600/IMG_0662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDMj-XaWVivtZ6cjT8RrIXnQbKDGrZg6BHHXoLhGTYIX35LXMbGsozG7QlKTlHj6ieCe0Hg5pkH53IsvY4QQm-StdVBfXqHkqcv8ro6fvkk9myTCmqNu5TnhGHqGiOi0lRmjG_j6MbXAiJ/s320/IMG_0662.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt enjoying some veggie burgers after his 5:10, first mountain 50k finish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjABWvQj_TGJXxiLLpxYiA2tthr5EQfYPc17hFd9mrpYKoc7Qb_FJ5zuBf4NDWoEehapYoD83S3hWtSDWvCSq6iHajIudIOY8lxPzuHt4NiDOoW_ab7l6PJBEpSrnTTzmYbdGmKESXsxHAn/s1600/IMG_0667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjABWvQj_TGJXxiLLpxYiA2tthr5EQfYPc17hFd9mrpYKoc7Qb_FJ5zuBf4NDWoEehapYoD83S3hWtSDWvCSq6iHajIudIOY8lxPzuHt4NiDOoW_ab7l6PJBEpSrnTTzmYbdGmKESXsxHAn/s320/IMG_0667.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jordan Whitlock went on to drive far away to his Spartan Race (obstacles) and win it on Sunday...pretty sick. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagvdVE2ST0IRS0zVDI3yO5Pzy8HdquErZiCsVq-qIasyz5Oq_UJ5y8gy7DDwieI4VsPCUY_5wjLzX7V9ltjAQF6gFrsWlwKDfZUkPujLrKC6qIfXbhsDi52gqgvyC2OMUt5okdpO6QBLy/s1600/IMG_0668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagvdVE2ST0IRS0zVDI3yO5Pzy8HdquErZiCsVq-qIasyz5Oq_UJ5y8gy7DDwieI4VsPCUY_5wjLzX7V9ltjAQF6gFrsWlwKDfZUkPujLrKC6qIfXbhsDi52gqgvyC2OMUt5okdpO6QBLy/s320/IMG_0668.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt after his first mountain 50k</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5pFTGFBLZ33-cuYMCubXenvpxIF8PWw9qphEERLwwpAV2bB8vgeRvxVFkR3V-bFnpFkn7bilcdB9jwRowELvGsfCLrExIRt46W0n43y9vjZ39sytmHyw8Gwak7c4LfAv8XogmuBCGwfY/s1600/IMG_0669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5pFTGFBLZ33-cuYMCubXenvpxIF8PWw9qphEERLwwpAV2bB8vgeRvxVFkR3V-bFnpFkn7bilcdB9jwRowELvGsfCLrExIRt46W0n43y9vjZ39sytmHyw8Gwak7c4LfAv8XogmuBCGwfY/s320/IMG_0669.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mountain. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-17631612172641240482013-03-13T06:52:00.000-07:002013-03-13T14:21:51.239-07:00Catawba<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eYk66_DGUMERMiMgbCbK47ypf-lwH10KWM6sWn7Oe6eTEPHnbrSk6cPtc8oFexrnJmRlM-TUXqnHeaEPQMZSCnkI4CTPa8H7TJK8uH4C6L8kaTigMBKO-Q7b_PbxKG9EEOCPyDnjagqC/s1600/IMG_0640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eYk66_DGUMERMiMgbCbK47ypf-lwH10KWM6sWn7Oe6eTEPHnbrSk6cPtc8oFexrnJmRlM-TUXqnHeaEPQMZSCnkI4CTPa8H7TJK8uH4C6L8kaTigMBKO-Q7b_PbxKG9EEOCPyDnjagqC/s200/IMG_0640.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
This was probably the weirdest 35 miles I've ever run. Short version goes like this: Cold, friends,stomach hurt, stomach felt better, snow drift knee to thigh high, rocks, no rocks, more snow, snowman, snowballs, cliffs, hot, no shirt, strong sun, more snow, McAfee's Knob, sloppy mud, everyone and their mom, unseasonable snake, hanging at aid station, run, walk, run, slippery snow, field, finish in 1st (but it wasn't a race). Drive.<br />
<br />
The course was hard, and actually that's a bit of an understatement, but it was made harder by the strange snow conditions and the warm temps...and even those are two things that don't normally go together.<br />
<br />
Most people use the run as an excuse to get to the mountains and see trails they don't normally run on, at least that's the way I was treating it. That being said, it is an awesome event that hits some pretty defining parts of the Virginia portion of the Appalachian Trail.<br />
<br />
I drove down on Friday night after traffic had subsided so I got down to the area around midnight. I slept in my car in the parking lot of the hotel where most everyone was staying mainly because I was too cheap to get myself a hotel room. I woke up early after a few hours of shut eye and went to the B and B where the start and finish is located. The people that own it are incredibly kind and have let Keith put this event on for years.<br />
<br />
The start area was full of people gathering last minute supplies and we were all glad that daylight savings time was Sunday instead of Saturday so no one had to run with a headlamp to start. Gary was running around the parking area semi-forcing people to eat Krispy Kreme doughnuts courtesy of Quatro before they started running. In a brief lapse of judgement I succumbed to the temptation of a greasy/slimy doughnut and by the time I realized my mistake, the doughnut was already down the old gullet.<br />
<br />
A few words were spoken, and we were off. This year the circuit was run in the opposite (clockwise) direction so we'd be heading up to Dragon's Tooth first. A couple miles into the run I was running with Sean Andrish, Drew Krueger, and Jeremy Ramsey. We ran most of the climb but then the doughnut was wreaking some havoc. I made a brief trip to the woods quite a ways off trail and was fine after but was now several minutes behind the other 3 guys. I ran by myself up to the top of Dragon's Tooth enjoying watching the sun rise higher in the sky and finding my way through the mess that is the rock scramble before reaching the intersection at the top.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHhdYLwXO3HTpw28jFJ1cNDnGdTKgeQyunbhItwPe6kKuC-K7ohIvMPynMTeZxLTU9i8DoIS4hfPGKwCDoUF4Fz6CdvzxOeY3IQurwaXLsut_1FuF3uGUErjcMgUhGfLfRrzQQoUoz-_B/s1600/IMG_0627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHhdYLwXO3HTpw28jFJ1cNDnGdTKgeQyunbhItwPe6kKuC-K7ohIvMPynMTeZxLTU9i8DoIS4hfPGKwCDoUF4Fz6CdvzxOeY3IQurwaXLsut_1FuF3uGUErjcMgUhGfLfRrzQQoUoz-_B/s200/IMG_0627.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragons Tooth</td></tr></tbody></table>I crossed paths with Sean, Drew and Jeremy while they were on their way back from the Tooth. I saw the towering rocks, snapped a couple pics and turned around. I caught up with them just before the intersection and ran the rest of the way down to the first aid station with them. As we reached the aid station, nature called and luckily there was a bathroom in the parking lot the aid station was in. When I came out, they were already gone. I wasn't too worried about it as I had a map in my pack, but it did mean that I'd have to run by myself on trails I hadn't been on before and were not marked.<br />
<br />
The next section is notorious for its PUDs after the initial climb. The ridge is just piles of Pointless Ups and Downs. It's like running on an amplified boring part of a roller coaster. They are rarely dangerously steep, but they still drive you nuts. People who had done this event several times said there were 36 of them over 9 miles or so. Adding to the slight annoyance was a new obstacle: deep, windblown snow drifts. Some were deep enough to stop you in your tracks making progress very slow and exhausting. THOUGH, subtracting greatly from the misery that these things caused were the views. They were incredible. The temperature was warming drastically and having no leaves on the trees meant you could see on either side of the ridge. Beautiful.<br />
<br />
After about an hour or so I caught up to the group just as Jeremy was emptying sticks from his shoe and stating he had some stomach pains. We all figured that he'd catch back up, but we didn't see him for the rest of the day. Drew, Sean and I rolled through the hills and snow and finally made it to the intersection that took us down to the second aid station at mile 17 ish. The three of us hung out there eating and drinking for far longer than I think any of us would in a race. Brian Schmit joined us for the next section as he planned to run with whoever was in front so he could get to his car (the third aid station) with whoever got there first. That next climb was a good little kick in the teeth. Very steep. Somewhere along this climb we lost Sean and Drew and came upon a couple of people who didn't really know what this trail had in store for them. If I had to guess, they didn't get all the way to the cliffs at the top.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79LHbhJGOZrA4CkqquHY0W0XhgQZIlD0P2vjzKOvsXqglgxJLiGtsgT6enkhtk3d223Ey1KO0BNYx5_DaOLWmSFkmKfYoSRUtSGZjbwf7BX5Re6_Tm02ANTGLSPOdnp4M0Tnpl7joaCBC/s1600/IMG_0630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79LHbhJGOZrA4CkqquHY0W0XhgQZIlD0P2vjzKOvsXqglgxJLiGtsgT6enkhtk3d223Ey1KO0BNYx5_DaOLWmSFkmKfYoSRUtSGZjbwf7BX5Re6_Tm02ANTGLSPOdnp4M0Tnpl7joaCBC/s320/IMG_0630.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HI RUN</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQ2ZM5ZkSRSWaivBiQRPFs32urpqdRzjWzAJ7_9P1h3AWS-_l_K5iwkVocUeKoHzugXR2Q-c-xGpTZouo8-ym6CZwsskxTfSyyINF7BzaQZc6Qc0AiC9vyWXwzlhvoDmuXBHZdM7fxs05/s1600/IMG_0646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQ2ZM5ZkSRSWaivBiQRPFs32urpqdRzjWzAJ7_9P1h3AWS-_l_K5iwkVocUeKoHzugXR2Q-c-xGpTZouo8-ym6CZwsskxTfSyyINF7BzaQZc6Qc0AiC9vyWXwzlhvoDmuXBHZdM7fxs05/s320/IMG_0646.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brian and Sean Tinker Cliffs</td></tr></tbody></table> Brian and I decided to make a snowman on our way up. We wanted it to say, "Hey Sean" or "Hey Drew," but both had too many letters in their name to spell out in sticks so we settled for, "HI, Run." On the switchbacks toward the end, we could see Sean way down below and slowed down as we got close to Tinker Cliffs so we could run with him.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPGEzOkd6-xib8xyjSZ-L_3AWfozGXBd0qC6rhUPb4zbd141chdRYAKTPs4oRLvMQKaWsP8U6XrqkP7UHDxV1-RCb6zP9ph9Qxl8xU5ZknB_g7VyBr7S_LdN_XKgssWITRU7JVQA7d-Elq/s1600/IMG_0645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPGEzOkd6-xib8xyjSZ-L_3AWfozGXBd0qC6rhUPb4zbd141chdRYAKTPs4oRLvMQKaWsP8U6XrqkP7UHDxV1-RCb6zP9ph9Qxl8xU5ZknB_g7VyBr7S_LdN_XKgssWITRU7JVQA7d-Elq/s200/IMG_0645.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tinker Cliffs</td></tr></tbody></table>He joined us in fighting the still snowy but now, warm conditions. We descended the saddle and started the long climb up to McAfee's Knob, the very distinctive rock formation that also appears on the AT Virginia license plates. After a long long time climbing and sliding around because of the slushy snow, Brian and I arrived at the Knob but had lost Sean in the mix. There are actually two vistas. We went to the first one but missed the turn off for the second (and more popular) one. The view was still amazing.<br />
<br />
From McAfee's, we sloshed our way down the 4 miles or so to the parking lot splashing in the mud puddles, slipping on the snow and passing huge groups of day-hikers headed up to the Knob. Everyone and their mom was out on the trail. I figured I'd wait for Sean when we reached the parking lot because I wanted to run with someone and Drew showed up next. After learning that Drew didn't pass Sean we figured somewhere along the way, Sean must have taken a wrong turn. I must have spent 20-25 minutes in that aid station but Drew and I finally left and decided to take it easy for the last section. The problem was, I kind of just wanted to be done by that point. The moving had been so slow because of the snow and slush and my feet were soaked, so I ran ahead. The last section is very pretty ridge running but again was very sloppy and hard to get into any kind of rhythm.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHc2NV-9aVw6lp9WnDV_Ip2VCp2GdNDtujQ5VobUJz9qJTd8C5I8zbxPXSx09_nb3PmB7U1xb-1CjkHXGjn3I5rN1uwxM2zhDxc8c3_ISlvrLZ7Yge-pQ4dZ47iB5gh4-iIjCf7aYrkV8f/s1600/IMG_0651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHc2NV-9aVw6lp9WnDV_Ip2VCp2GdNDtujQ5VobUJz9qJTd8C5I8zbxPXSx09_nb3PmB7U1xb-1CjkHXGjn3I5rN1uwxM2zhDxc8c3_ISlvrLZ7Yge-pQ4dZ47iB5gh4-iIjCf7aYrkV8f/s320/IMG_0651.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure why he was pointing in almost every pic I took...<br />
McAfee's Knob</td></tr></tbody></table>Finally I came off the mountain, dashed across the field and up the road. I wrote down my finishing time which was 2:20 pm. Yep. That's 7:50 for 35 miles. That's almost 13:30 per mile! It wasn't until I did the math that I realized how slow I was going. A few minutes later, Drew came in and then Joe Dudak, then a couple of Virginia Tech guys. The snow was really an equalizer. Eh, at least it was fun.Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-84911872012703910822013-03-06T09:38:00.000-08:002013-03-06T09:38:05.637-08:00Buckhollow, Mary's Rock, and the pastA couple of weekends ago I went for a run around the Buckhollow loop with the addition of adding Mary's Rock with my friend, Matt. The day itself was unseasonably warm as within a mile up the first climb both of us decided it was warm enough to go shirtless. It was the first time in 2013 and it was still February! The loop itself is pretty much 3 miles up and then 3 miles down, and add in an extra mile to each direction if you do Mary's Rock as well. For the first loop we opted to go all the way up. As we started the trail up to the top, I realized that I hadn't been on that trail since middle school.<br />
<br />
For middle school and high school, I wasn't very athletic, and unless it involved being on a bike or playing baseball, I wasn't too keen on being active in general. During elementary and middle school, my parents would drag us out to Mary's Rock listening to John Denver or Bob Seger the entire way. The Bob Seger will haunt me forever (even though, somehow the John Denver has grown on me a little bit, but don't tell my parents). I didn't appreciate the woods, and hiking up hill for a mile was work, and my legs always hurt. I hated the way up.<br />
<br />
But my parents did know how to entice their four kids to climb a mountain - food. My dad would pack up a big backpack with a Coleman stove, the gas for it, eggs, bacon, rolls, condiments, apple juice and orange juice mixed together (if you haven't tried it, you must), water, plates, napkins, wet wipes and utensils. He would lug all of this up there and then cook for us on the overlook. It was great eating, but inevitably the eggs would burn, the bacon may or may not be on fire right before you eat it, and of course someone would end up in tears because they were sticky from the juice. But being up there and scrambling around the rocks and then eating like that was definitely worth the struggle to get up there. The way down was great, we'd all pretend we were running with deer or escaping the bad guys or something along those lines. Running down felt effortless, jumping from rock to root, back to rock, was a feeling I don't often forget. Of course we couldn't run the whole way down because someone would need a piggy back ride.<br />
<br />
While Matt and I were out there, I was able to remember every step of that mile. How, soon after the initial steep part leaving the parking lot it smooths out for a few yards. And how you pass an old chimney and then it gets technical. Also, after you reach the saddle section, you make a right on the AT and then a left soon after that and then it gets really rocky. It was only a mile, though, it felt a lot longer when we used to do it. It was just as rocky as I remember and the top was just as awe-inspiring.<br />
<br />
Running up, the cloud cover was thick. I was worried we wouldn't be able to see anything at the top. Sure enough, we walked across the 10 ft of sandy flat portion at the top and continued onto the uneven rocks looking at nothing. I couldn't have been more disappointed. It had been years since I'd been up there and I wanted it to look the same and all it looked like was a sea of white/gray emptiness. I had brought my camera but didn't even bother to take it out. I explained to Matt what we were supposed to be seeing: The Massanuttens, Luray, Rt 211 and Skyline Drive. I told him that the cars on it are supposed to look like tiny Lego vehicles. Part of me wondered how much of what I remembered was actually part of it, and maybe the sights weren't as grand as I remembered. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnglmS-f4XXLGjpMIpzkDgqP9586Kmi4plQe1NratLT2IYCXP0r8SvXNtR2FaF3DlISfv68a5JZ9Jkd48HEXjdI7Ig3u4oMa8XWLtXrwc96PkOf3vpbbzJlqWWZ5PKGEJ281vC9K1qW7h/s1600/IMG_0605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnglmS-f4XXLGjpMIpzkDgqP9586Kmi4plQe1NratLT2IYCXP0r8SvXNtR2FaF3DlISfv68a5JZ9Jkd48HEXjdI7Ig3u4oMa8XWLtXrwc96PkOf3vpbbzJlqWWZ5PKGEJ281vC9K1qW7h/s320/IMG_0605.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Matt just as the clouds were parting</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQT1GG9vdqUWT6inlR-bWVc_EaNOH91WrnxZWfPNsEkYTWPtxQHRzZBx5bBciOcWPX6yY0ELdI2PHpy80lYQ0VPqbzzmCStrPC-5XVq4ddJWsW7lPgeghyphenhyphenjPi0BTxak0rnsOWTyGDA0iUJ/s1600/IMG_0612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQT1GG9vdqUWT6inlR-bWVc_EaNOH91WrnxZWfPNsEkYTWPtxQHRzZBx5bBciOcWPX6yY0ELdI2PHpy80lYQ0VPqbzzmCStrPC-5XVq4ddJWsW7lPgeghyphenhyphenjPi0BTxak0rnsOWTyGDA0iUJ/s320/IMG_0612.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Rt 211, there is a car in the picture</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-uMzEq6lHm_ryCHp1jH4crHrXK3iV5n2exNS2Cf1mhdG8hFDxZVWUyKD8wY9dva5wGceIUUkp4YcIuLkP-8yNtGgLc4nNLHPNiGbhR3Yko7PuxbNeJUE_jF6gmbNxq5p5EiTWbu0AicyY/s1600/IMG_0618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-uMzEq6lHm_ryCHp1jH4crHrXK3iV5n2exNS2Cf1mhdG8hFDxZVWUyKD8wY9dva5wGceIUUkp4YcIuLkP-8yNtGgLc4nNLHPNiGbhR3Yko7PuxbNeJUE_jF6gmbNxq5p5EiTWbu0AicyY/s320/IMG_0618.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Some random dude behind me losing his balance...</div>
<br />
Just when we were going to start going back down to complete the loop, I saw a faint mountain in the distance. The clouds were dissipating right in front of us! Within a minute we could see the tops of the mountains next to us and a few across. Before too long we could see down the cliffs. Everything was just as I remembered.<br />
<br />
Last week was MMT training run #3, the last 40 miles of the course. It was surprisingly cold and snowy, even though the couple days before it had been pretty warm. The run itself was largely uneventful, I came, I ran and I left. The run itself just sort of seemed like a blur. I didn't think much, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. I didn't feel very invested in it, I just wanted to see that part of the course again without markings. Overall though, it was a good day to run in the mountains. Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-37455766123454270502013-02-19T15:20:00.003-08:002013-02-19T15:20:45.524-08:00HumilityThis weekend I had the pleasure of running in the
snow-capped mountains of the Massanutten course. It was the 2<sup>nd</sup> “training
weekend” that the race organizers put on in order to show the entrants the
course ahead of time. This run was nothing short of magical. As weird and
some-what hippy as that sounds, the flawless symphony of the crisp, cold, and humid
Virginia air, the smooth transitions between damp lower part of the mountains
to snow-blanketed upper portions and the company of other runners out there
humbled me far more than I could do on my own.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Humility is an interesting trait; especially for this day in
age when the entire world seems to be in a constant cycle of proving themselves
better for no reason in particular. All it takes is one look around the streets:
people flaunting wealth with expensive cars and jewelry. The majority of
reality shows have people just bragging how awesome they are, (most) sports
stars' interviews are chock full of self-praising anecdotes. It’s quite
saddening to say the least. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The beauty of the ultra running community, aside from being
a great group of like-minded-people who enjoy the mountains, is the fact that
everyone’s humility is overwhelming. Standing around before the run in the
Short Mountain/Elizabeth Furnace parking lot there was chatter about various
people who had just completed some incredible running feats in preparation for
other great running feats. I won’t name names mainly because I think they
wouldn’t want me to. One guy just finished The White Oak Trail 100 (TWOT) last
weekend. Solo. They actually changed the course so it turned out to be roughly 108
miles with 28,000 feet of elevation gain. There were rumors of the winds
over-night gusting to 70 mph along the ridges. The organizer pointed this out.
His response as he aimed his gaze downward while fiddling with his heart-rate
monitor? “It wasn’t a record, but thank you.” He did, however, come within 15 minutes of it on an 8-mile-longer course. Impressive to say the least. He did this in preparation for
the Barkley Marathons next month. If you don’t know about Barkley, look it up. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ran with a friend for the whole 30 miles on Saturday. He
is an accomplished ultra-runner, though of course, he’d never admit to it. Part
of what makes his success remarkable is the fact that he has a rare condition
that causes seizures multiple times per month. Once, he was in the middle of a
100k race where there was a 50k going on at the same time. The 50 and 100k were
on the same course for the first half and on the way to the 50k turnaround he
had a seizure. He decided to switch to the 50k vs. the 100 and still won the
race. Of course, I didn’t get this from him. His comment? “I was lucky the race
directors were nice enough to let me switch mid-race.” He considers himself
lucky because though he may have some trouble sometimes and is not able to drive,
he can still run. His mom and dad have difficulty at times as well, who have MS
and rather severe scoliosis respectively and ran a 50 miler together recently. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the finish line parking lot, a group of us hung out while
people trickled in. There was a guy getting ready to run the Iditarod 350 mile
foot race. (Yes, that is the race the sled dogs run.) He has already run the
Arrowhead 135 (all in snow) and one other long snow race (that I forgot). He
answered questions very matter-of-factly about the sled he has to pull with all
of his gear but never once did he seem egotistical about his answers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course, pretty much everyone there has a rather
impressive background. There was the woman who finished Western States 100 and
then 2 weeks later finished Badwater...more than once. There was the rather accomplished old
ultra runner who rode his bike 30 miles that day (one way) just to bring his
friend apple-sauce. And there was a guy who has finished Massanutten twice, both
within 5 minutes of the cut off. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Normally, the beauty of the mountains humbles me enough. But I left
on Saturday feeling extra refreshed and with a new sense of respect for our whole mountain-running culture. Maybe it was the 30 beautiful mountain
miles, but I think it was the refreshing personalities that this sport tends to
attract. I think the rest of the world could learn a few things from the ultra running community. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MGDRo3I2NFWUNdVSvge-LQ4qWw1ZR_p-CnwpLNS_HhU1WXbyhXHfSCyFpSM_TXCwxo1cWfLekGRnck3FiBd0r1EJn42FlIgAIj5JSmkBJI09CNBqLVWQ2zEEo93jiAvXtTCHM9IDvKu0/s1600/snowy+mtn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MGDRo3I2NFWUNdVSvge-LQ4qWw1ZR_p-CnwpLNS_HhU1WXbyhXHfSCyFpSM_TXCwxo1cWfLekGRnck3FiBd0r1EJn42FlIgAIj5JSmkBJI09CNBqLVWQ2zEEo93jiAvXtTCHM9IDvKu0/s320/snowy+mtn.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
picture by Tom (VHTRC)</div>
</div>
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-60489270895888970932013-02-05T07:53:00.000-08:002013-02-05T07:53:15.652-08:00How to make mistakes and lose a race<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Saturday
I ran the ICY-8 Hour race put on by Alex and Scott. The race consists of an 8
mile loop or a 4.7 mile loop. And racers run any combination of the loops to
try to maximize your mileage in the 8 hour time limit. Every time you come to
the aid station you shout out whether you did a long loop or a short one and
then at the end they tally it all up. Really, the only rule is you have to
finish the last loop before the end. No partial laps will count. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">In
the few days before the race I had dissected the past results, records and the course
to see what it would take to win it and what it would take to beat the course
record of 54.1. I thought the course record was well within my potential and
that I’d give it a try. If I ran 7 large loops, I’d do that no problem. Simple
enough. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The
weather lived up to the name of the race, and I had icicles in my beard
throughout the entire race. Alex sent us off at exactly 7:30 am and a group of
6 or 7 of us ran pretty much the entire first loop together. Everyone opted for
the 8 mile. We had to run the first loop clockwise but after that it was a free
for all. Any loop, any direction. Also in the lead group was a kid named Brian
Q who is friends with my little sister and wanted to get into ultrarunning. He’s
18 and a senior at Brooke Point. He’d never run further than 20 miles before
and thought he’d come out and see what he could do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">When
we got back to the aid station I grabbed some gels and left within about 10
seconds. I ran alone the rest of the day never knowing what loop anyone what
doing, who was leading, where I was in the standings, etc. I’d pass people
throughout the day, sometimes going the same direction, sometime crossing
paths, but the entire day was a mystery. All I could do was run hard for the allotted
time, stick to my plan and hope it worked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
finished 4 long loops adding up to 32 miles in about 4:17 and came into the aid
station feeling good. I shoved my face with a bit of pb and j so I didn’t get hungry
and bolted back to the trail. About a half a mile from the aid station I
realized I hadn’t grabbed any gels. It was a stupid mistake and I shouldn’t have
made it, but I wasn’t about to run back to the aid station and sacrifice that
time. I had to decide whether I would still run the 8 mile loop and risk
getting behind on my nutrition or if I should just run a short loop and then
get back to the aid station sooner. I opted for the short loop. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The
whole time I was running that loop I was doing math, trying to figure out in my
head if I stayed on the current pace, what I’d have to do to still run the mileage
I wanted. I figured that upon finishing the short loop I was on, it would be
about 12:30, meaning I’d have 3 more hours on the nose until the end. If I
could run two more long loops and one more short loop, I’d snag the mileage I
needed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Everything
seemed to be falling into place. I wasn’t fatiguing, I was running steady, the weather
was cold, but not bitter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The
last long loop took a few minutes longer than expected but at that point I had
run 52.7 miles and had 35 minutes to cover the last 4.7 mile loop. I reached
the aid station and bolted without grabbing any more water or gels. I wanted to
go as light as possible for a final push. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">After
running pretty hard all day, the mid-section of the loop was difficult for me,
and as I started to calculate what I’d need to do, I knew it was going to be
close. At the “one mile to go” sign, I had 4 minutes before 3:30. I’ve never
run a 4 minute mile and quite frankly, I’m not sure I ever will…especially after
running (at that point) 56.4 miles. At 3:30 on the dot, I realized that lap
wouldn’t count so I stopped sprinting and even walked a bit, finishing the last
lap 4 minute over the cut off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
had a fun day out there and cannot say that I didn’t try hard for it. 57.4
miles in 8:04. 52.7 of those miles counted landing me in second to a guy who’d
done mostly short loops and ran 53.6 miles. Should’ve stuck to the plan. It’s
bitter-sweet but in all it was a good day and a good training run for
Massanutten…even though it was pretty flat comparatively and not technical. Alex
and Scott put on great events and I’ll definitely be back for more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Plus!
My friend, Brian Q, ran 38 miles for his first ultra-distance event! He seemed
to have fun too, which is even better. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-67740601639263097222013-01-23T07:12:00.001-08:002013-01-23T07:12:37.904-08:00OutsideAny day where I can be outside during the majority of the hours of the day is a good day. And any weekend I can get to the mountains is a good weekend. And any weekend that is a three day weekend is bound to be good. This weekend ruled.<br />
<br />
Saturday Katie and I took off to meet my parents at Massanutten to do a little skiing where my dad is part of their volunteer ski patrol. The temperature started off cold so the mountain was a bit icy but as the day warmed up...as it always does in Virginia, the icy stuff got pretty soft, and made for some decent conditions. Katie and I took a picture at the top of the mountain and realized we had a picture like that when we were young before we were dating.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDtaplsBtq-3hXHzRTLXRsRu6jBFmpz2nVP6no5FSXP7hVxtJD6Qy2Tt9CTAl6TeyrXsE6AJiYa04rwoOmQoc1ehKlwBoPa-Kn3CPXWw-rlixrWhABb98E9O3STdC-ZYAl9ILe1JmzrZZ/s1600/kpnow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDtaplsBtq-3hXHzRTLXRsRu6jBFmpz2nVP6no5FSXP7hVxtJD6Qy2Tt9CTAl6TeyrXsE6AJiYa04rwoOmQoc1ehKlwBoPa-Kn3CPXWw-rlixrWhABb98E9O3STdC-ZYAl9ILe1JmzrZZ/s320/kpnow.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is us now. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4YI7Y5y5-QnMFUOQOPhoW-WJrWg7nA-bIREnKv8ezDAqqP0d5vw-rv7g86ghAjdnmj_uIZnRKnsWll1zsWmRsJAwyoZHQrcChx62Y_jGwyEZsRHl0BeuGiukJfGWLCMXjnWJk-OWtOkXM/s1600/pkold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4YI7Y5y5-QnMFUOQOPhoW-WJrWg7nA-bIREnKv8ezDAqqP0d5vw-rv7g86ghAjdnmj_uIZnRKnsWll1zsWmRsJAwyoZHQrcChx62Y_jGwyEZsRHl0BeuGiukJfGWLCMXjnWJk-OWtOkXM/s320/pkold.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This was us then. I've known her for a long time. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sunday I went out to the VHTRC's Massanutten Mountain Trails 100 training run. 85 people started! I love that so many people come out and run in the mountains just for fun. I got there with about 30 seconds to spare so as the group left the parking lot, I was still putting on my pack. I ran with a mountain-biker named Kyle, AJW and a girl named Emily. AJW is an incredibly accomplished ultrarunner completing Western States in the top ten 7 times. But, as he is returning from a knee injury, we continued up the first climb without him. When we got to the top Emily told us about how she is also training for Western States and after asking her about her qualifier, turns out she came in 2nd at the JFK 50 last year. She too, was under the old course record. Yikes. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This "fun run" attracted two pretty big named people. It was a bit intimidating but they were both very nice and Emily and I ended up running the whole thing together because neither of us were 100% sure on where to go at certain spots and Kyle bolted off as soon as we got to the top of Kearns mountain because he runs up there all the time and said he knew the trail really well. We didn't see him the rest of the day. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5OwobOVUmHQC15WBc2WCKCs8jzsKO1LfhcjRMNz_eziRIKrKyWBwt-zPRC3aNriMtHC4N3tXBSL5tKWWW-DMIwI45x1r8Pd5uLAqf09bwgYTVinXv6pdQ1txKM-GbzwA3n8A9U04Aj05/s1600/bird.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5OwobOVUmHQC15WBc2WCKCs8jzsKO1LfhcjRMNz_eziRIKrKyWBwt-zPRC3aNriMtHC4N3tXBSL5tKWWW-DMIwI45x1r8Pd5uLAqf09bwgYTVinXv6pdQ1txKM-GbzwA3n8A9U04Aj05/s320/bird.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The view off of Bird Knob</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Emily and I meandered through the woods the rest of the day and ended back at the same parking lot we started in just as they were lighting the fire. Everyone who had cut the run a bit short was hanging out, there was food, beverage, fire and dogs. Good times. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaAcY4yfOJkY-774lDdonOp8O4gpY5TP13lrqBonRfr3yencoF8_aKOeiy94vVZh_7sdYgztRGkeh6m8gpPZ332zu85EJFYiRuDtF2RMOe80Xa6OA8oDpQ3SSzGxv1ZYAcABqx3x8OyZK/s1600/pup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaAcY4yfOJkY-774lDdonOp8O4gpY5TP13lrqBonRfr3yencoF8_aKOeiy94vVZh_7sdYgztRGkeh6m8gpPZ332zu85EJFYiRuDtF2RMOe80Xa6OA8oDpQ3SSzGxv1ZYAcABqx3x8OyZK/s320/pup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrf_1ZjULPnf2RBd3fB-h-f6sF2nsSnwmW3_xhQMqu1vlHSrsaBBlKDHa7LJGFMqkpzYn-QQs-Vi3tQFyGmNJ1ezdWiAnfG8fBXXEMBmQkM9NyviLudv1zst05qpaIyAIGOM0fVU1lkbt/s1600/crocs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrf_1ZjULPnf2RBd3fB-h-f6sF2nsSnwmW3_xhQMqu1vlHSrsaBBlKDHa7LJGFMqkpzYn-QQs-Vi3tQFyGmNJ1ezdWiAnfG8fBXXEMBmQkM9NyviLudv1zst05qpaIyAIGOM0fVU1lkbt/s320/crocs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Crocs are a thing....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Monday I met up with my friend Scott and his dog, Henry, at the Buck Hollow trail to get some miles in on MLK Day. I had never done that trail before, but it turned out to be a great day as well. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68XAF24Qcu4_KYX-Mx6FWLe-KLM89Wk3zk_e6VWetLrKj8sRDMlycHrPzhBnNLQ0nFXB627PiO-_vuy7f0UfY6n0Q4E5aakQD8BqYM-w9iqaJqxjFI0Y8qEfS7v_isqzzLLxX8iysrKZv/s1600/Mary%2527s+Rock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68XAF24Qcu4_KYX-Mx6FWLe-KLM89Wk3zk_e6VWetLrKj8sRDMlycHrPzhBnNLQ0nFXB627PiO-_vuy7f0UfY6n0Q4E5aakQD8BqYM-w9iqaJqxjFI0Y8qEfS7v_isqzzLLxX8iysrKZv/s320/Mary%2527s+Rock.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The highest little bump of rocks up there is Mary's Rock. My mom and dad used to take us up there for hikes. My dad would pack this giant red backpack full of food and a camp stove and cook us eggs and bacon up there.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMRvies3_yjpkTC1lBILCGZqCdWSyqd0C-lgBGKQdT0N80aSQlLhZBON1G8IYvZchndjD_syArNRi7Be3obdRCNQBuX2Mi9NIbfLg-obt7_ZkH3UI1twR8lKuXcYn2KQLBsSO2BFiXp3f/s1600/scott+and+henry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMRvies3_yjpkTC1lBILCGZqCdWSyqd0C-lgBGKQdT0N80aSQlLhZBON1G8IYvZchndjD_syArNRi7Be3obdRCNQBuX2Mi9NIbfLg-obt7_ZkH3UI1twR8lKuXcYn2KQLBsSO2BFiXp3f/s320/scott+and+henry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Scott and Henry leading the way. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSx1hO2-uNBcGBLoTKV6TyrKiA3BkujDa-WH6p17I7VrlkOQ4gVF9CV7I6hDQLbhONm9yRKfaXROJpL2lxoe0GwrBOZx7A-nSPDjpmoC5OentlcfOSpW3qmKH1nHwzK6TFuB9kaFYMiVeP/s1600/hery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSx1hO2-uNBcGBLoTKV6TyrKiA3BkujDa-WH6p17I7VrlkOQ4gVF9CV7I6hDQLbhONm9yRKfaXROJpL2lxoe0GwrBOZx7A-nSPDjpmoC5OentlcfOSpW3qmKH1nHwzK6TFuB9kaFYMiVeP/s320/hery.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
When we got back to the car, after 17 or 18 miles Henry promptly fell asleep on the ground. Scott had to wake him up and coax him into the car with treats. </div>
<br />
<br />
All in all, solid weekend.Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-58643902617956530932013-01-15T05:10:00.002-08:002013-01-15T05:10:29.278-08:00Willis River 50k First race of 2013 I thought I'd have some fun at a race I'd done before. In fact, Willis River is the changed name of Swinging Bridge 50k with slight course modifications. Swinging Bridge was my first ultra, so this race has some sentimental value to me. That being said, I felt terrible during the race.<br />
<br />
A lot of my friends were there and when I showed up, we started visiting and I may have forgotten to pack even close to enough gels for the run. We started off down the trail in about 50 something degree humid weather and quickly realized that it was going to be hard to stay on course. Myself and three other guys led the race and as we came around one corner about 3 miles in, we saw all these runners up ahead entering the trail from a side trail! So we went from top 4 to 15th or so. They didn't realize they were off course. That time we realized that we were right, and everyone else was off course, but that's just the way it goes sometimes. So we all sped up a bit and caught back up, and then the same thing happened in another spot where we were 99% positive we were all going the right way only to have people scooting in from a side trail and us having to catch back up. We got lost or off track, or stayed on track while everyone else wasn't on 3 more times on our way to the 10 mile turn-around. It was a little bit frustrating and we may have burned up a little bit more energy than we should have trying to catch back up to everyone who had passed us.<br />
<br />
BUT! As we were running along after leaving the first aid station the four of us heard a jingling behind us. A husky that we figured belonged to one of the aid station workers had followed us. Then a few minutes later another dog, this time a white pit bull mix caught up to us and joined our pack. At one point he was following me so closely I accidentally caught him in the jaw with my foot. I just heard this little clap and when I looked back he was licking his lips and smiling at me while wagging his tail. <br />
<br />
At the turn around we were down to three in the little front pack and we retraced our steps back to the beginning only getting off trail once. At least that was an improvement. On our way back, one of the guys dropped off the back shortly after passing the 5 mile aid station and the other guy dropped off about 2 miles from the 35k mark. I got back to the beginning first ahead of the 35k runners and started the last out and back section. 5 miles out, 5 miles back - roughly. I wish the dogs would have stayed with us, or just me.<br />
<br />
I was feeling pretty crummy at the start of this section and just tried to relax and run everything. I was pretty close to being out of Hammer gel in my little flask so I just tried to ration that out in smaller increments. The trail was undulating so it was a little hard for me to get into any kind of rhythm during the short little kickers and descents. Though, just before you get to the turn around, the trail gets beautiful. It was dull gray and hazy all day - just stomping around the leaves, not really on any sort of trail, just blindly following streamers and markings - and then out of nowhere it was like running on a trail in the Pacific Northwest. I haven't been there but I've seen pictures and there were lots of ferns and moss. It was very strange but not entirely unwelcome. I hit the turnaround and filled my hand bottle and looked at my watch to see how long I had on the 2nd place guy. I passed him after running for 5 minutes, so I had 10 minutes on him. I figured as long as I didn't take any naps or pull the old tortoise and the hare, I could grab first.<br />
<br />
The way back, I didn't really feel like running anymore so I just kept running so that I could be done sooner. I was chilly and wet with sweat and just not in a great place mentally. But I crossed the finish line in 4:25:03 in first. Not my fasted 50k, but definitely my fastest on the course by about 35 minutes. Last time I ran it I was first in 5:11 in -2 Fahrenheit. I'm proud to say that it was the slowest winning time in course history. Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-42689705408633810932013-01-09T10:59:00.000-08:002013-01-09T10:59:27.111-08:00A Horton Ultra - for the first-timerI know quite a few people currently training for the Holiday Lake 50k so I figured I'd toss this out there so you know (a little bit) of what to expect. As anyone who has run one of the legendary Dr. David Horton's races can attest, it is not your standard ultramarathon. Ultras are different from marathon's for several reasons, most of them not relating to the actual distance at all. The sense of community and belonging for one is overwhelming at times as everyone, I mean everyone, is very welcoming and genuinely happy at the event. People may be out there for different reasons, some to simply finish, some to race hard, and some to overcome other obstacles in life, yet everyone respects whatever your reasons for being out there.<br />
<br />
Even between ultras, races are very different. Some have a very hyped feel to them with huge banners and inflatable sponsors signs, camera interviews with the "elites" of the sport, and prize money. But the vast majority of them have a down-home feel. There might be a banner, or just a spray-painted start/finish line where at the end there is a barbecue or family cooking for the racers.<br />
<br />
Horton's races are closer to the latter but with an incredible feeling of fun professionalism about them. They have killer finishing awards, great volunteers, amazing locations and guaranteed fun courses. They always start with the national anthem and a prayer and finish with a hearty smile and a firm handshake or hug.<br />
<br />
Holiday Lake is no different.<br />
<br />
Step one, getting to the race: Driving there is not unlike most ultras as it starts at a camp ground where cell service may or may not be present, so don't rely on your phone's GPS. There are several miles of gravel road where it looks like you're driving to the middle of nowhere where you may or may not run into a young boy playing a banjo. Just follow the directions, you'll get there. Don't eat before you go to the pre-race meal unless you hate good food.<br />
<br />
Step two, the actual race: The race consists of two loops, one clock-wise, one counter clock-wise. The race starts in the dark, so I'd recommend bringing a small headlamp that will fit in a pocket because you won't need it for very long and probably won't want it squeezing your head for the first 16.ish miles until you get back to the start/halfway point. It is possible to get through without a headlamp but you'll have to rely and latch onto someone else's light and they might be going faster/slower than you want to go. Plus, as I learned last year, if you do rely on someone else's light, depth perception is compromised and tripping is more likely. Aid stations are only about 4-5 miles apart so it is doable without a handbottle, but if you want to get through the aid stations a bit quicker and only stop at every other one, you can use one bottle. Two is over kill. The aid stations are stocked with the usual ultra food. Sandwiches, candy, chips, cookies, potatoes etc.<br />
<br />
The following main race description was largely copied from the website. But before you read the course description, know that there may be a lot of turns but Horton's races are marked the best out of any race I've ever done. If you run for more than 3 minutes (less if you're running fast) without seeing a streamer or chalk, or some other blatantly obvious marking, you're going the wrong way. He marks turns for the directionally-impaired. If you get lost, you will get made fun of. Letting you know now.<br />
<br />
For only about .6 miles you run up a hill on the road. This little kicker will make you wonder whether the friend who told you that "it is a course for fast times and road running marathoners" was lying through their teeth. They weren't chill out. Then you turn right on the Lakeside Trail ( LT ). This trail is not very technical and is just rolling hills. Not "Horton hills" they really are just hills. Follow the LT to a small bridge at the end of Holiday Lake at 1.78 miles. Turn right and follow the trail next to the edge of the lake and cutting across the park next to the sandy beach and picnic tables picking back up the LT after crossing the road at 2.05 miles. Just before the trail, there is a little bathroom, last year it was open for emergencies. Continue on the LT next to the lake. This is a great rolling hills trail that you can have a lot of fun on. Really scenic. At 2.44 miles you will pass a wooden lookout on the right side of the trail. Last year, this is where it started to get light enough for people to stash their lights. At 3.36 miles the LT cuts right across a stream. The course takes a left turn at this point onto the CTT. The CTT goes uphill at this point on to Aid Station ( AS ) 1 at 4.04 miles. The hill may be steep, but it's not long. This AS is at a wooden gate in a small pull out adjacent to Highway ( HWY ) 692. <br />
<br />
Continue on the CTT which runs adjacent to HWY 692 until mile 5.71 where it crosses HWY 640. At 6.03 miles the trail turns right. This part is flat. Remember it for the way back as a part you can really get rolling on it if you're feeling good. At 6.52 miles the course turns right on Rinehart Road. At 7.07 miles the course crosses Holiday Creek, the big creek crossing that we have had in previous years. You will get your feet wet. Fact of life. Continue on this road to the intersection of Rinehart Road and Richmond Road and AS 2 at 8.23 miles. There is no crew access at this aid station. <br />
<br />
Turn right on Richmond Road going gradually downhill. At the bottom on the long gradual downhill, you cross a small bridge. After crossing the bridge, you turn right on the CTT at 8.78 miles. At 9.37 miles you cross HWY 636. The course runs parallel to 636 crossing 636 again at 10.53 miles. At 10.72 miles the course takes a right on Walker Road as you continue to follow the CTT. After going down a small hill you reach AS 3 on HWY 614 at 12.14 miles.<br />
<br />
Take a left on 614 for about 30 yards and then turn right back onto the CTT. At 12.96 the CTT makes a very sharp right hand turn. At 13.71 miles, the course makes a sharp right hand turn still staying on the CTT (this is in a group of large old oak trees). The course then goes through the woods for a short distance then down a very steep little hill. It really is very steep, and feels steeper going back up on the way back. At 14.14 miles, there is a bridge on your right side that goes across the small stream. At this point you rejoin the LT staying on the LEFT side of the lake. Continue around the lake on the left side. At 15.97 miles you will cross the dam. It can be very slick in spots. At 16.43 miles you cross a small footbridge. Turn right and follow the trail on the right side of the tennis courts back to the start/finish line at 16.63 miles and the end of loop one. For loop two, reverse directions and go back the way you came and run the loop in reverse order ending loop two for a total distance of 33.26 miles. <br />
<br />
I will warn you, it's easy to get to the turn around and feel like you can smell the barn but...of course you can! You just left the barn! You still have a whole loop to do, if you feel good, by all means, pick up the pace, but don't turn on the burners. The reverse loop can get a little bit hairy because everyone is doubling back on the rest of the field. But this can also be a good thing because you can see how far or close the people just in front and just behind you they are. The trail along the lake can get narrow so just be polite about passing everyone.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCcWJQ_GXfFBMrIfMP7nOZGyDLkKmU9x0Odsec6ALotRLBdVJxxUvmIW_hAwabRc7HtRKcYejc0jGuaQ50NbcLtqvKMlM2hhENxkQ35_MnrBh1A8Z2XTL6FULvOe_HLDXsGfd4gAfP9tP/s1600/horton+and+us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCcWJQ_GXfFBMrIfMP7nOZGyDLkKmU9x0Odsec6ALotRLBdVJxxUvmIW_hAwabRc7HtRKcYejc0jGuaQ50NbcLtqvKMlM2hhENxkQ35_MnrBh1A8Z2XTL6FULvOe_HLDXsGfd4gAfP9tP/s320/horton+and+us.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
(I'm not in the picture and I stole it from Rachel Corrigan's blog even though I don't know her but it epitomizes Horton and Holiday Lake...Rachel, I'm sorry, I'll buy you an ice cream cone.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
This race is not like his others mainly because the distances on the website actually are true. A lot of people choose Holiday Lake as their first ultra. It's understandable, the distance is manageable, the terrain is tame, and because of the loop and reverse loop, it's like you only run 16 or so miles and you know what's coming up in the second half. But a little hint for ultras in general, the second half always feels a little longer, and there are spots that you totally forgot about. The biggest mistake you can possibly make in any ultra, or any race for that matter, is getting discouraged. Stay in the present and look ahead only as far as you can see. There really isn't any point in worrying about mile 28 if you are on mile 6. Besides, Horton gives the same hug to the first place person as he does to the last place.Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-58523397038632747832013-01-08T11:22:00.000-08:002013-01-08T11:22:15.397-08:00Goals for the new yearGoals are an important part of running. There's no way around it. And I guess it's a big part of life as well. Everyone needs goals to keep moving forward and bettering yourself. Right...?<br />
<br />
And then there's the other side of the tracks where there's a group of folks who "keep expectations low - this way you're never disappointed." Though this thought process is the epitome of the slacker mentality and often lends itself to not quite the respect that the other camp of thought - there may actually be some truth to it.<br />
<br />
Everyone wants to lose 10 pounds, qualify for the Olympic trials, Boston, or get chosen by the lottery for whatever race you're trying to get into, PR in every race you run, or maybe get that promotion at work and make more money. While in theory all of these things or events might make you happier or more comfortable financially. These goals may or may not happen for whatever reason outside your control. Each of these kind of goals require work. Without work, it's not a goal at all - it's just a want or a hope. Goals require devotion of a certain amount and a desire to put forth the kind of effort needed to achieve the outcome. So why don't we just set a goal like - I will work harder on ________ in the new year?<br />
<br />
The goal is the ultimate target that the work will be geared toward. <br />
<br />
I would love to run a 2:05 marathon. Truth. I'd love to break 12 hours for a 100 miler. Also truth. My problem is that I have a difficult time coming up with reasonable goals for myself. Sometimes my goals of the past have been too lofty. Like breaking 20 hours at Western States in 2010 when I had spent the first 4 months pounding pavement skipping across the country. I blew up, I wasn't recovered from the cross country run, and ultimately (basically) crawled across the finish line. Other times my goals haven't been ambitious enough. Take Promised Land 50k this year for example. I went out way too slowly to be competitive and ended up having to catch up 15 places in the last 10 miles of the race barely reaching the top 10.<br />
<br />
So where is my happy medium? I'd love to set some goals but with the wedding coming up and a possibility of a drastic scene change shortly after, I don't want to schedule too much for fear that once again, I'll set lofty goals and falling short. So this weekend I have the Willis Creek 50k (formerly Swinging Bridge), the the 8 Hour Adventure Trail Run in February, Terrapin Mountain 50k in March and Massanutten at the end of May. Massanutten will be my main goal for the year as I don't know what the rest of the year will hold for me, and I'd like to do well there. I don't want to publicly state my expectations but I will be training hard for it. Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-30018962109818543442012-12-28T06:46:00.000-08:002012-12-28T06:46:17.474-08:00The importance of bad runsThe illusive "terrible run" is not as uncommon as I would like. Sunday was the epitome of a terrible terrible run. Sometime's I know what went wrong and sometime's I don't. In this case, I have no idea why everything broke down the way it did. Well, that may not be entirely true. I didn't fuel right. I had done runs like that before where I go out with less than I should have so that I train my body to run more efficiently on less and tap into my fat reserves sooner. Usually, I just bonk earlier, get though it and by the end I'm tired but nothing is actually painful.<br />
<br />
Not the case on Sunday. My 27 mile run ended up being a 20 mile run, one mile shuffle, and a 6 mile hike/death march. It was an out and back course I set for myself and on the way back I came to a field and took a break. The day had started out very cold and windy and overcast. Just an overall grey day, perhaps that helped with my misery. By halfway through the run, the weather hadn't changed any except the clouds had dissipated. When I reached the field on my way back I didn't want to run anymore. I didn't want to walk anymore. I've had times where I've felt rough on runs but I'm not sure I have ever felt this bad. My feet felt like they were being beaten by mallets even if I walked. My legs wouldn't function at all in any sort of forward motion.<br />
<br />
I just found a grassy spot away from any prickers and I lay down and stared at the clouds. It was warmer being level with the ground. I found solace from the wind among the tall grasses. I wasn't far from the trail but just looking up, I could have been anywhere. The sky was as blue as it had ever been and it reminded me of the bluebird days in Colorado right after a massive snow storm when everyone is in a good spirits and there's more than enough powder to go around. Staring up, even though wind is invisible, the effects of it are quite perceptible. Stray leaves danced around, following the drafts and truly riding the brisk breeze. I stared silently and so intently, I swore I could see the streams of air flowing. Planes littered the sky, largely due to my proximity to Dulles airport. And their contrails told stories of where they had been and the places they were going. It seemed like everything was moving quickly by air travel, the leaves, airplanes and stray objects of the woods. Except for me.<br />
<br />
I was dry by this time. It had been awhile since I had stopped sweating. Though, I'm still not sure whether it was due to dehydration or the lack of quick moving. Probably a bit of both actually. After a little while, I'm not entirely sure how long, I decided I had had enough of everything flying around my motionless hollowed out corpse and I figured I should probably get up before I got too cold. As I got up, my imprint in the grass stayed like an inviting bed, and all comfort left me. The last miles were going to be hard. I knew that but I decided not to care about anything except making it back to the car. It was a classic run-turned-hike and I had come to the conclusion that I should just enjoy it as a hike instead of be disappointed that it wasn't a run.<br />
<br />
My mentality changed everything. I had been discouraged because I was doing so horribly but once I didn't care, it was great. I was able to see parts of the Bull Run-Occoquan trail that I hadn't before or at least not in a long time. I realized that you can see parts of the trail that you can't in the summer from farther away. Hiking is also a very important part of long distance running. If you're in the mountains, sometimes the fastest "runner" out there is the one that can power-hike the fastest. It saves energy, and is often more efficient on the super steep stuff. Though there may not be anything on the Bull Run Trail that is close to the mountains, a little hiking practice never hurts.<br />
<br />
The wind didn't ease up so I was still quite chilly because I was dressed to run but overall it turned into a beneficial day based solely on how I perceived what I was 'supposed to be doing' out there. Perception is what I took away from this <i>not-quite-as-horrible-as-I-thought </i>"run."Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-84446551106854367442012-12-18T09:14:00.001-08:002012-12-18T16:47:46.588-08:00Recovery weekRecovery from a race is not something I'm too keen on. That might be because I'm usually amped up for one reason or another after a race. I either did horribly at the race and I'm angry with myself for not training for it and I start hammering it soon after and it takes me forever to recover. OR I do well at the race and I'm stoked to see what I can do if I keep training. This may very well work for some people, Karl Meltzer for example. Then again, I am not Karl Meltzer.<br />
<br />
This time, after Hellgate, I decided to take it easy. I took a couple of days off, went to the Wednesday night fun run at Potomac River Running (which has been a habit for quite some time and we've got a good group of people), did a little light running of my own and caught up on some things that I'd been neglecting. On this past Saturday Katie and I went to visit Great Falls. It's pretty sweet and I'd only been twice before. Once in 5th grade when I was doing a project on "locks" (you can see that published in the library of congress...just kidding), and once a couple years ago to work an aid station for The North Face 50 mile race. Both cases, we didn't do a whole lot of exploring and so I was glad we were able to go back.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCArum_TMvCrXcGaAOlNOOhmsqMfOQrVOom_WLUxQ9kathJb2OTbz_C_lFbgUV8BP7USo6Me5AtoWP4nacEPbAxb15fjySs3zBPQDL5X-pyJpcrm2DYrXU65CLziBeICCyaNp7o40Ulcr/s1600/the+falls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCArum_TMvCrXcGaAOlNOOhmsqMfOQrVOom_WLUxQ9kathJb2OTbz_C_lFbgUV8BP7USo6Me5AtoWP4nacEPbAxb15fjySs3zBPQDL5X-pyJpcrm2DYrXU65CLziBeICCyaNp7o40Ulcr/s400/the+falls.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The Falls are an interesting place because while there are trails that meander around the park, the real fun is on the rock scrambles. And of course, Katie couldn't stay off the rocks, so I followed suit. So much for a nice easy hike...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZKvpRqu2cP52VzggQOZ4lM5iip_2LMuQf8tDFHkp42IhqG3IcVkitz3zqeYq6shYiBukqDluuWTFSkLCVJVREFFvpmVnu0x60ZMuhh4kRPYuioFfpuYw8HW8eE4wbonaVveU6au_EDQ4/s1600/cliffs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZKvpRqu2cP52VzggQOZ4lM5iip_2LMuQf8tDFHkp42IhqG3IcVkitz3zqeYq6shYiBukqDluuWTFSkLCVJVREFFvpmVnu0x60ZMuhh4kRPYuioFfpuYw8HW8eE4wbonaVveU6au_EDQ4/s320/cliffs.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYs2SIgWw8I3bPGsL6fKDAyskz5vnQWoYgPwaBtzqWduRErekWexS7LykGsz3bQML7WPj5vXGdt2P2d29mYf_BQtGy1dAEXtSDkUuBxqG8eZdzbadamTRz_D6t-fFuYJUs5yQdr8FArfua/s1600/katie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYs2SIgWw8I3bPGsL6fKDAyskz5vnQWoYgPwaBtzqWduRErekWexS7LykGsz3bQML7WPj5vXGdt2P2d29mYf_BQtGy1dAEXtSDkUuBxqG8eZdzbadamTRz_D6t-fFuYJUs5yQdr8FArfua/s320/katie.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: start;">Rock scramble, cliffs...what's the difference? Katie getting her scramble on.</div><div><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglddiNp7dIPt1CqCs8hMVRIgfxeqj3ZbF2_4d00oA02Nyoa8ZfliuHIKXatm4aeuUZP8WE1-Lv9jThBF_BORBk4auqwuX6nuBYZBvHIJutJlPj1B5ThUYZiU8h-9XPtuB2YX9sm89zJTSg/s1600/us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglddiNp7dIPt1CqCs8hMVRIgfxeqj3ZbF2_4d00oA02Nyoa8ZfliuHIKXatm4aeuUZP8WE1-Lv9jThBF_BORBk4auqwuX6nuBYZBvHIJutJlPj1B5ThUYZiU8h-9XPtuB2YX9sm89zJTSg/s320/us.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The required long-arm-picture in which none of the actual Falls are present. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sunday I got very antsy and needed a good run longer than 6 miles. I was good all week and didn't push it hard or run even remotely fast. So Sunday, I indulged. I was going down to Fredericksburg to help my friend Mitch with some of his trees and wanted to hit the old Fredericksburg Quarry trails beforehand. The trail leaves the parking lot and is a flat gravel road for awhile then you start the loop when you turn left up the hill. Basically, the first half is spent running up and down the hill and the second half running along the flat trail along the river back to the start of the loop. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I decided to go for a double loop and the run went much better than expected aside from the sloppy conditions thanks to the recent rain. I was able to run hard all day even though I was clearly not a hundred percent after last week. Overall, good day, good run, good week. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><br />
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-25294231514348046442012-12-10T09:57:00.000-08:002012-12-10T09:59:30.951-08:00Hellgate 100k 11:41:30 5th place<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgREzxv4CZsMcQCuo8l-l1yBkiDxzZ9fNGGxbccUe8UDuY-UEGdfliUPSVtz4m6atWqGpl3IJCSu8B72kmh9Ssb8jvCbnusSN5Zm-lRq0ldQ6zFgrwzATu6sfyY6yeWuM7r1DDNz2pYQt/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgREzxv4CZsMcQCuo8l-l1yBkiDxzZ9fNGGxbccUe8UDuY-UEGdfliUPSVtz4m6atWqGpl3IJCSu8B72kmh9Ssb8jvCbnusSN5Zm-lRq0ldQ6zFgrwzATu6sfyY6yeWuM7r1DDNz2pYQt/s400/photo+(1).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well, this is Hellgate. I got this elevation chart from someone, I don't remember where but I like it. So whoever made it, good job. Not sure what the yellow dots are on the course though, they don't seem to match up with every aid station. </div>
<br />
It's an interesting race and I'm more than happy I came back this year for it. I'm even more happy that this year I trained a little bit for it as opposed to thinking "eh, it's just a 100k." This race is the brain child of course masterminds Dr. David Horton and Clark Zealand. And what an awful disgusting child this thing turned out to be. And while it is a nasty course (in every sense of the word), I loved every second of it...well, almost every second.<br />
<br />
This year was the 10th year of the race. And after finishing it for the first time, I humbly take my hat off to the gruesome group of masochists who have finished that race for their 10th finish.<br />
<br />
That being said, this year there were also quite a few fast guys expected to do well. Eric Grossman, the previous course record holder was going to be racing and, according to Horton, trying to break 11 hours. Which is unreal for this course. With Eric in the race, along with several local (and not so local speed demons such as Alister Gardner, and Troy Shellhamer) and previous winners and top 3 races like Frank Gonzalez, Darryl Smith and Chris Reed, and Keith Knipling it was going to be a fast year...especially with the unseasonably warm temperatures.<br />
<br />
The race starts at 12:01 am on December 8th. And just like I expected, about 15-20 guys bolted from the start. Normally I would've tried to keep up with them, but that day, I just relaxed and wanted to run the way I wanted to run. I just stayed in my own head, didn't count people in front of me, didn't worry about a thing. I just breathed. Because it was dark, my world was a small section of woods. There were no visual distractions. I smelled dead leaves and damp ground. On the :30 minute mark, I smelled apple cinnamon before I took a quick gulp of apple cinnamon Hammer Gel. Before I knew it we had arrived at the first aid station and began the first ~3 mile climb up the gravel road to the second aid station.<br />
<br />
A sizable pack ran up ahead and they were charging. I let them go and made myself a part of the 10 ft diameter bubble that I could see. I smelled more dead leaves and the occasional breeze that smelled unseasonably sweet. Another :30 minutes, and more apple cinnamon. I kept running up the first climb not paying attention to anything in particular. Just running and smelling. Up the switchbacks I could glance and see the pack up ahead still 10 or so deep with a few stragglers off the back who maybe had been a little ambitious to try to stay up with Grossman and the others. Behind me there was a long string of LED lights bobbing along, some slower than others: walking. I never let myself feel uncomfortable. I glanced up and saw the millions of stars. I don't get that in Fairfax.<br />
<br />
Before I could ask, where's the aid station, I had arrived. I saw my friend, Tara who was crewing for me, switched my gel flask, and hand bottle and kept running. Less than 10 seconds. She had only crewed for one other person, but she was very efficient. From there, I started running down a single track rocky trail. I was in heaven. I quickly caught up to two people as we entered the cloud. The clouds seemed to be caught in the valleys because as we ran down, it got progressively foggier. The visibility was under 15 feet, then again, it wasn't much more than that anyway. I still never let myself get uncomfortable, and never stopped running.<br />
<br />
Shortly after the 3rd aid station I came across someone I knew was much faster and thought maybe I should slow down, but didn't feel like I was pushing, so I didn't slow down. I smelled more dead leaves and smelled cold water. I heard the stream/creek running next to the road we were all running up and was happy we didn't have to get our feet wet this year if we didn't have to. My friend Darryl caught up after a quick bathroom break and we had a rather enjoyable time running up the road. I smelled a campfire about 5 minutes before we arrived at the 3rd aid station, Camping gap. Soon after, I left Darryl and kept running. I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't feel like I was putting very much effort into this race so far.<br />
<br />
They moved the third aid station up a little bit lengthening the already long section going to Headforemost Mountain. I ate some potatoes with salt at the aid station thinking it would be good to get something besides gel in my stomach, but soon after the aid station, I lost them. No harm no foul, I kept running. I never expected the next aid station to come, I just kept going and kept going, in and out of the clouds. Every now and then a sweet smelling warm breeze would arrive and I'd pull up the sleeves on my Smartwool baselayer and be quite comfortable. Then, I'd descend another mountain, get cool, smell more dead leaves, enter another cloud, pull the sleeves down and still be very comfortable.<br />
<br />
Every now and then, I'd take a physical inventory of all my systems. Feet, comfy and issue free like normal, knees, hips, back, shoulders, neck, head, how's my form, how's my heart rate, am I tired, is it time to eat, when's the last time I took a sip of something? Everything checked out, so on I ran.<br />
<br />
Headforemost mountain passed, and I caught someone else. While running down a grassy fire road soon after passing my friend Frank, I stopped briefly to irrigate the side of the mountain. I got very confused for a second and forgot whether I was running down or up at the time. So I started running up. It was only a minute or two until Frank came barreling down the trail in normal "Frank the Tank" fashion. "Patrick, what're you doing? Everything okay?" After he assured me he was going the right way, I followed suit and descended into Jennings Creek.<br />
<br />
Jennings Creek past, and I turned down warm eggs, sausage, and bacon. I kept running. The climb up to Little Cove mountain last year was quite literally a death march. My vision was blurry, my legs would barely walk, and I was more focused on not passing out so I could just get to the aid station to drop out properly rather than having some random car scrape me off the road or having the next racer drag me up to the top. <br />
<br />
Little Cove Mountain came soon after smelling the camp fire and unlike last year, it was dark and I didn't feel like I was going to die; nor did I want to. This was the first time I let Tara and Brian tell me what place I was in. 4th. Grossman and Shellhamer were 15 minutes up, and I didn't honestly think I could catch them, but to know that they were only 15 minutes up at mile 34 or 37 (I'm not sure anyone actually knows) felt pretty good. With fresh batteries I headed into the next rocky section.<br />
<br />
About 40 minutes after Little Cove, the sun came up. I was up on a ridge and it was all I could do to not stop and just stare at the scenery and beauty that was unveiling itself minute by minute. I could see the neighboring peaks and ridges but no valleys. They were shrouded in a very inviting-looking pillow of clouds. The sun cast a shadow on the ridges accentuating their steep inclines and the ruggedness to this region of Virginia was undeniable at this point. I missed this last year.<br />
<br />
I was taking glances, wishing I had iguana eyes so I could focus on the trail and the scenery at the same time. Then I slammed the ground hard. Oh, it felt magical not to be running even if just for a second. I took a deep breath and thought for a minute if I could just take a quick little nap. Then I remembered it was a race and got up and kept running.<br />
<br />
Then came the rocks. I've run on rocks before. These rocks were different; they were sharp and pointy. I've run on sharp and pointy rocks before. But these rocks were different; they weren't attached to the ground and rolled when I stepped on them. I've run on sharp and pointy rocks that rolled when I stepped on them. But these rocks were covered in about a foot and a half of leaves that hid the sharp and pointy rocks that rolled when you stepped on them so even if you knew what you were doing, running this section sober would be no different than going down it blind folded after doing several shots of moonshine. It wasn't a question of if you'd turn an ankle and strain a knee, it was whether or not you'd break an ankle and tear every ligament in your knees. David Horton is a horrible horrible man!<br />
<br />
So horrible in fact, I may or may not have been compelled to strangle him when I saw him at the next aid station. Regardless, at Bearwallow gap, I picked up Brian, my pacer and on we went. I was tired now. I hadn't done much walking up to that point but I may have walked a bit more from here on in. I still just tried to run the run-able sections and do my best on the others. The scenery continued to be breathtaking but my frustration grew as I became more tired. Every bend in the trail looked like it could lead to the aid station, at Bobblett's gap and after a long while, we did. I changed my shirt and kept moving. We only had the long section (called the "forever section") into Day Creek and then one more sizable climb, and a long descent into the finish.<br />
<br />
The forever section lived up to its name. Though, I think I figured out why. Everything looks the same!! Everything! The only defining characteristic of this part of the race is that it's FOREVER! There's no big defining climb! There's no big defining descent, just constant up, down, up, down! But, alas, during this section Chris Reed caught me. He looked fresh. He sort of hopped along the course like a wild rabbit. It was poetry in motion. I was jealous.<br />
<br />
Brian and I rolled into Day Creek and began the final climb. I ran what I could, hiked what I had to, but all in all I think the climb went well. It's somewhere between a 2.5 and a 3 mile climb and we did it in 32 minutes. From there, we ran down. My knee hadn't bothered me all race, but I think we may have been a little excited for the finish and started bombing the descent because my left knee started aching. It stopped as soon as I finished, and hasn't hurt since, so I think I'm in the clear.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYBVH6V6u4mxmQ12bLY12v15NsGl76WaGgAuVS7A5PCmgareEgAwZZQa2gWLk7xM9b9tvvSCkTvuOOnPjRFbbcQ5-ssl7gDNQC7JIXbhhZUlUb9UxLK8rXHcDH0E9Ipvak7jvO6e2kN4Or/s1600/20121208_114251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYBVH6V6u4mxmQ12bLY12v15NsGl76WaGgAuVS7A5PCmgareEgAwZZQa2gWLk7xM9b9tvvSCkTvuOOnPjRFbbcQ5-ssl7gDNQC7JIXbhhZUlUb9UxLK8rXHcDH0E9Ipvak7jvO6e2kN4Or/s320/20121208_114251.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We rolled into the finish line and the clock read 11:41:30 and I finished in 5th place. In every other year that time would've been good enough for top three, and a few years good enough for first. But there was some good competition this year.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR8Ew7WPJyd-aSgMySIv1fu6h7LY2eaNo2bpGSuRzDAQsS67es1HGpAIz0ioAHeBJEX2Ci5DXCH3nkd1_ZsLJP6HgFHhCgyvZHm-n6jP8mfM06LpHbpO9a2l6ve0GIBZBgQJOjNoTNCuMD/s1600/20121208_114304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR8Ew7WPJyd-aSgMySIv1fu6h7LY2eaNo2bpGSuRzDAQsS67es1HGpAIz0ioAHeBJEX2Ci5DXCH3nkd1_ZsLJP6HgFHhCgyvZHm-n6jP8mfM06LpHbpO9a2l6ve0GIBZBgQJOjNoTNCuMD/s320/20121208_114304.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
This is the quaint finish line - Great group of people, great race, great atmosphere. Great day.<br />
<br />
Thank you Tara and Brian for your excellent crewing!<br />
<br />
Also, if you could say a prayer for Dr. Horton, he has bypass surgery today. Hard to believe someone with his athletic background could need it but he does.Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-48900094392730849752012-12-04T07:55:00.000-08:002012-12-04T07:55:23.946-08:00A student of the gameI'm starting to realize how little I actually know about running.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Over my few years of running I have started to read more about everything pertaining to running. And aside from the overwhelming amount of contradictory information out there, I've come up with a central theme. "No one knows what's going on." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've read everything from, "how to win running 200 mile weeks" to "less is more." From, "Paleo high protein is the best," to "vegan is the healthiest," to "gluten free." And once you have your diet "in check" not all of it matches up with what you should be eating as an athlete. That seems to throw a wrench in the mix! There are arguments on continuing to do what humans have done for thousands of years and new technologies and studies that prove we should change something. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Debates between eating only gels during a race, and pigging out on pizza at aid stations. And I haven't limited it to books either. I've researched magazines where Runner's World gives you the benefits of running with a 12-14 mm drop super cushioned shoe and reading about the shoes with 40 mm of cushioning, to Running Time's articles exploring the science behind minimalist footwear. Exploring the differences in every kind of cushioning system known! From foam to gel to springs to wave plates to rubber to fluid to air to recycled tires. I've talked to people asking what they use as hydration during a race and have witnessed heated debates over the superiority of hand bottles over packs with a bladder. Every gel pack claims it's the premier choice because of the protein ratio or because it's organic or gluten free or because it uses a special hornet extract...seriously. They extract it from hornets?? Where's Mike Rowe for that dirty job? That one costs about $70 for a pack of 12 or 20. I'd love to try it but there is no way I can afford to fuel my runs with something that costs that much. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The information out there is dizzying. And I haven't barely scratched the surface on what each one does and how everyone has the "science behind it." (Though the science behind the 35 year China Study on the effects of animal products on your diet are very influential and largely conclusive.) I also have to admit that I'm slightly disturbed by the amount of scientific studies that take into account...well, nothing. They focus on one thing and when they find the answer they publish it and make sweeping generalizations that make no sense at all. Slap some big-name school on it, and all of a sudden, you have a reliable source? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
How is anyone supposed to wade through all of this and pick out the few things that actually work? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My conclusion after doing all this reading/research throughout the years: </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Think for ourselves and try it all and see what works for us. We're all different, what may be the "magic potion" that works for one person, might be another persons "nature call" during a race. Easy as that I guess.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This year of racing was not quite what I'd hoped for. And quite honestly, since Grindstone in 2011, I don't feel like I've had a race I felt good about. It's easy to say, "well, I've had a lot going on, and I'm still sorting things out." But at a certain point you just have to hold yourself accountable and say, "yep, I didn't put in the work. I just haven't done all I can to run strong for this race." Though, I think now that I've done some homework, I can start over and run like myself. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgat4UmBrPcnqcJeQw4ia88ehFfeEOnB2VQFkrrO6BPC0A_P6iUCoBaLrCgHcI-Y3q2EmwqUhXWHGJt8gjAFiQ9Z_Lq0KJFjyi1AlRch2oxMfS_aqGNDxKt7PcwozGH1H-1Nl7Wn-_ddS/s1600/powerlines.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgat4UmBrPcnqcJeQw4ia88ehFfeEOnB2VQFkrrO6BPC0A_P6iUCoBaLrCgHcI-Y3q2EmwqUhXWHGJt8gjAFiQ9Z_Lq0KJFjyi1AlRch2oxMfS_aqGNDxKt7PcwozGH1H-1Nl7Wn-_ddS/s320/powerlines.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
Oh yea, and powerline trails rule. Ridgeline to ridgeline.</div>
Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-51558023499408349542012-11-30T10:58:00.001-08:002012-11-30T10:58:46.528-08:00It may be finally be time to write again. I think it might be a good idea to post more often than just every six months or so. This way, I won't have to recap all of life's events in order to keep everything straight.<br />
<br />
I'd love to say that the months since my last post were spent in the mountains training hard and getting stronger, and that's why I haven't posted. July and August and September were spent trying to get my life in order in terms of gainful employment. There are several reasons that those three months were not ideal in terms of stress levels, training, or even financial stability. Stress was high because though I was working at the running store, and loving it, living in Fairfax and trying to pay off a lemon for a car and not living at home is tough at best. Training was rough because primarily because I didn't have gas money to get out to the mountains to properly train for the Ultra Race of Champions 100k (more on that in a bit). With several weeks spent studying for a potential job, taking tests, and online classes, I ended up literally running out of that building. Funny story but maybe not for a public post. At the end I landed a job working for a DoD contractor. There is plenty of that kind of work around the DC area, though, I am in an office.<br />
<br />
So all this is leading to a very rough day at UROC. At the end of September the UROC 100k took place. I was lucky enough to land an elite spot so I was able to skirt the race entry fee. This was a huge plus, I wouldn't have been able to race otherwise. All the training I had done for the race had been in the last month or so before the race and had been on local trails that had minimal elevation gain, and were not super technical. I was able to get in two runs over 20 miles. I hadn't spent any time looking at the course, had no idea what I was in for, and was largely just running blind. I'm not entirely sure why I even started the race that day. I think a lot of it was due to just needing an outlet to blow a massive amount of steam and running 100 or so kilometers seemed like a pretty good way to do it.<br />
<br />
The race started out with guys like King, Mackey, Canaday, Clark, heaps of others in the elite category running steadily down the trail. The race started out with a pretty serious downhill and then with retracing your steps back up. Right away, on the down hill I could tell my quads were not going to agree with me that day. It was not exactly what I wanted to feel before the first aid station at mile 4 but hey, what can you expect with no training?<br />
<br />
The day was great for running - weather wise. Cool, misty, perfect. The course was scenic, but I have to admit, not looking at the course description and seeing that it was a little over half on road hurt my mental race. The details are gruesome at best, and I tried to hang on to a decent pace as best I could. But with 9 miles to go I sat down, felt my eyes doing all sorts of weird tricks. The rest of the miles were all on pavement and that appealed to me about as much as having open heart surgery while being awake. After a couple minutes, I decided to keep going mainly for the sake of finishing what I started. I rolled into the finish line in 16th in a time of 10:37:25. Not thrilled but hey, there will always be another race.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_6cYLt4wbuuO5T_43NnL4jCreYCBKVnfOUqF1Q6kwbYD447qtqKXSzHB6I5cFarABKv3s742rx0pOHv1B1zu1wW0jncaCgkYFGpfa0MzKAzl-nRGOdhS95xzC8QamhrbEYzgkNh3xSlI/s1600/ye%5B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_6cYLt4wbuuO5T_43NnL4jCreYCBKVnfOUqF1Q6kwbYD447qtqKXSzHB6I5cFarABKv3s742rx0pOHv1B1zu1wW0jncaCgkYFGpfa0MzKAzl-nRGOdhS95xzC8QamhrbEYzgkNh3xSlI/s320/ye%5B.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
For the future, I've got Hellgate 100k. Next weekend actually. I've looked at the course and I think I know what to expect. I have been able to get out to the mountains for a good couple of long runs and I'm feeling a whole lot better about this one than I did about UROC. Brian will be pacing me starting at mile 42 or 46...they are the same aid station during the race but I'm not sure anyone ACTUALLY knows how long this race is... Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-6718647840279295282012-07-22T08:09:00.001-07:002012-07-22T08:09:47.664-07:00Good things<br />
Recently, things have been going very well. Last week Katie and I got engaged. This is what I'm most excited about but being a running blog, I figured I'd announce that and move on to running aspects of the recent good times.<br />
<br />
I was invited to compete in the elite field for the Ultra Run of Champions or UROC in September. It's 100 kilometers of hard racing and some of the best ultra runners in the country will be there. This is both exciting, and scary for me. But, I'll take it, and train hard and see what happens come September 29th. The race in itself is about 50% road 50% trail but all takes place in the mountains. So my training will be a healthy dose of trail and road running leading up to the race.<br />
<br />
With the race set and signed up for, I've added some longer training runs into my normal daily mileage. In the later part of last week Brian and myself went down to run the Priest and Three Ridges. This trail is one that I especially love and it is a tough technical run. We headed down on Thursday and planned to run it Thursday camp that night and run it again on Friday. Thursday went as planned though Brian twisted his ankle on the way down the Priest and suffered through the Three Ridges loop.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdxpp0PevCnBhqBuvWOcsSQkUt-soP4lL-IEsW-MWkcfmsz7VWYFvKWwX4ifTXpdnmkfc7DHmZcBqe9jxbRJNN3zpquiGYYHn1xyI3CzyUGQzDDhd8vLI2iZPijMfMD6_6oNziY_hdqGw/s1600/photo+(7).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdxpp0PevCnBhqBuvWOcsSQkUt-soP4lL-IEsW-MWkcfmsz7VWYFvKWwX4ifTXpdnmkfc7DHmZcBqe9jxbRJNN3zpquiGYYHn1xyI3CzyUGQzDDhd8vLI2iZPijMfMD6_6oNziY_hdqGw/s320/photo+(7).JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSeubApNuIMgNDWl2skQXaBBbbNMlo0OweORiNhIGGWKD-NlHW4m55MjM3E2uRPbyx3bpXPAWxcWUIB7xFzDpkWU7UEqXNxmtAptJG4L2wqFo5HifLlrWO9rr8NG1b5Q-c4ct32LfgMn7/s1600/photo+(8).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSeubApNuIMgNDWl2skQXaBBbbNMlo0OweORiNhIGGWKD-NlHW4m55MjM3E2uRPbyx3bpXPAWxcWUIB7xFzDpkWU7UEqXNxmtAptJG4L2wqFo5HifLlrWO9rr8NG1b5Q-c4ct32LfgMn7/s320/photo+(8).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPU0jPNLh7GMh1xF8VnpJpEyX7jyjkHMzlmmNoOGNZtmNS01esmtvMXv7wlxNkA2VcBCLPLQVcoKsYpPh3vkr1bJVmRKCSvGBIwlQP0p16A5nJeLgp_iEeBdbhIiDfVFTwUKiPzzxWrtU/s1600/photo+(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPU0jPNLh7GMh1xF8VnpJpEyX7jyjkHMzlmmNoOGNZtmNS01esmtvMXv7wlxNkA2VcBCLPLQVcoKsYpPh3vkr1bJVmRKCSvGBIwlQP0p16A5nJeLgp_iEeBdbhIiDfVFTwUKiPzzxWrtU/s320/photo+(4).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUE6AsxGSUyq9VJyFQwx2eKBoJyCI5isljaTLiJ-JIzBE-V_CN5SZHA22O94gIhpZIZcriHIp3F11Sh0GBrXI0UgiTDprlEfZmbLbw1uvzzk_Rxz7kIcOQMTUHti1bNfBKr7p-1RF2oQU/s1600/photo+(5).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUE6AsxGSUyq9VJyFQwx2eKBoJyCI5isljaTLiJ-JIzBE-V_CN5SZHA22O94gIhpZIZcriHIp3F11Sh0GBrXI0UgiTDprlEfZmbLbw1uvzzk_Rxz7kIcOQMTUHti1bNfBKr7p-1RF2oQU/s320/photo+(5).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
..Somehow we both ended up with red hats. I had mine first. Brian's in the yellow shorts.<br />
<br />
Yesterday was also the Catherine's Fatass 50k race. I had never done it before and heard it was good. Being a fatass, it was free and provided no race swag. Just a course with minimal-to-no markings whatsoever, and friends to run with. Just the way I like it. It's been over 100 degrees all week plus monsterous humidity and I figured yesterday would be no exception. ....It was a huge exception! It rained all day Friday, all night and Saturday morning and the temperature dropped drastically. At the start, I was actually cold! Once we started moving though that all changed. I think it only topped out at 70 MAYBE 75 all day and misted us as we ran with a light rain. It was perfect running weather.<br />
<br />
As we started down the trail 4 of us split off the front and remained together most of the day. Keith, myself, Drew and another Patrick ran the first section comfortably, through the first 20 miles or so. I think we all hung together because Keith was the only one who knew for sure all the turns to make. On the yellow trail the rocks were so slick it was like trying to navigate icy rocks. I gashed my knee pretty good and hurt way more than I thought it should have.<br />
<br />
As we made our way to the second to last aid station just before the purple trail and the largest climb of the race another guy, Dana caught up to us. The five of us made our way down the gravel road and made the sharp left onto the purple trail where it promptly turned upward. Keith, Patrick and Dana wanted to hike some of it and Drew and I wanted to run. We ran a good chunk of it but then lost Drew as the climb became steeper.<br />
<br />
Coming into the last aid station I knew I only had 5 more miles and most of them were either flat or downhill so I picked it up a little bit and cruised into the finish line in 4:47 and change and first place. I'm not sure it actually counts as a win since it's a fatass race but it was fun to run with friends all day. Plus! The party at the finish ruled! They had some killer home made veggie burgers.<br />
<br />
Good friends, good run, good food, good day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-932687727181700645.post-23778545610736693922012-06-26T16:05:00.001-07:002012-06-26T16:05:07.037-07:00The only thing better is ChipotleChipotle rules. And if you get it in a bowl without cheese, sour cream, or meat but include the guac, you don't feel like you ate a barnyard animal all at once and it still tastes amazing. Lately I've been experimenting a bit with nutrition. And while even eating an all veggie Chipotle might not be the healthiest thing on the planet, I'm trying here. I've been playing with some new recipes that are based solely on plants. I've always liked veggies...my favorite food is broccoli for crying out loud, but recently I've started toning back my meat intake and I have to say I'm pleased overall. I'm not full on vegetarian, or pescatarian, or vegan. But I also can't say that I don't like those foods. Eating less meat and less dairy definitely makes me feel better and I also feel like I've had some better runs lately. Aside from not having nearly as many stomach aches, as I am very prone to, I've found myself ready for more mileage sooner. The biggest problem I face is the convenience factor. I have to cook more, and when I'm out and about..or decide to do a last minute race as I did on Saturday night, it's not easy to get food that is both cheap and unprocessed. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I guess nothing worth doing is ever very easy....even if it is very cliche. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Short story: Saturday I worked at Potomac River Running, where I normally work. My friends Alex, Alex and Scott of Athletic Equation were putting on a race in Prince William National Forest. It was a 50 mile race called the OSS/CIA 50 Mile Night Run. It started at 7:30 and I was going to go down to volunteer with the setup and see if someone didn't show up so I could take their number, pay the last minute entry fee and run the race. Lucky for me, a couple people didn't show up and I got to run the race. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It wasn't long before it got dark and the trail was surprisingly technical. My time was rather disappointing but finished first despite being very sleepy. After I finished, I waited around at the finish line for other finishers, ate some and then made my way back up to Fairfax in time for work on Sunday. During work I went and got Chipotle...then Brian, my manager, went to Chipotle and brought me some more. Chipotle twice in one day. I can't say I didn't welcome it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was happy with a win, but I'm sure Timothy Olson and Ellie Greenwood were more happy with their course records at Western States on Saturday. Both of them set course records. Unreal, and congrats to both of them. </div>Patrick McGladehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07927850894563239751noreply@blogger.com0