Hellgate 100k 11:41:30 5th place

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

This is the quaint finish line - Great group of people, great race, great atmosphere. Great day.

Thank you Tara and Brian for your excellent crewing!

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.

A student of the game

I'm starting to realize how little I actually know about running.

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." 

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.  

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. 

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? 

How is anyone supposed to wade through all of this and pick out the few things that actually work? 

My conclusion after doing all this reading/research throughout the years: 

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.

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.  

Oh yea, and powerline trails rule. Ridgeline to ridgeline.

It 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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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...  

Good things

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.

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.

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.

..Somehow we both ended up with red hats. I had mine first. Brian's in the yellow shorts.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Good friends, good run, good food, good day.

The only thing better is Chipotle

Chipotle 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. 

I guess nothing worth doing is ever very easy....even if it is very cliche. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

Surprise mountain day

Living in suburbia, at least an hour away from a decent mountain trail, can have it's upsides. There's always a Starbucks within walking distance, Target is never more than a five minute drive away; and people tend to drive like they're so important, I should stop trying to cross the street because I'm inconveniencing them by not letting them turn right on red as soon as they get to the intersection. And as much as I love $4 cups of burnt coffee, I realized last week that I needed to get as far away from DC and the surrounding area as I could, go for a decent run, and be back before my shift at 4. So I did. Front Royal was as far as I could go and still have time for a run.

The Dickey Ridge trail is a fun one. The way out is about 90% uphill and the way back is about 90% downhill. I started out just enjoying the great weather, the warm sun mixed with the unseasonably cool air and just being away from everything.  Soon after starting I realized that I was going much harder than I usually would on a trail that is uphill the first half. I ran hard the whole way up. I wanted to find the point where I would crash. I wasn't positive if it would be a mental crash, a subtle crash where I would just sort of slow down, or if I could just hammer out of control for almost 3 hours. I hit the turn around in record time for me and felt good. I didn't think I had pushed hard enough.

(In the picture the downward sloping ridge point that is touching just below my right shoulder is the start: Front Royal.)

I turned around and flew. I ran faster and harder than I had in a long time. It felt fake. I ran hard, yet totally calm. On the two climbs on the way back I found strength I hadn't used before. The odd thing was, I was clocking around 5 minute miles on the way down the mountain. My mind seemed to put my legs at ease and I was running with the mountain rather than pounding down it. I felt at ease. Total peace. Not something I can find in Fairfax on a regular basis. I finished faster than I ever had before.

The following Monday I made the trek down to the Priest and Three Ridges Wilderness. I used to run in this area while I was training for the cross country run because it was closer to VCU. I missed the familiar run so I thought it would be worth the drive. Even though by the time I got there I wouldn't have time to run the whole thing, I was very happy I made the trip. I decided running just the Priest would be worth my drive.

On the ascent, I ran and felt strong. I focused my breathing and calmed my heart. Higher and higher I climbed. The mountain was so quiet. I passed the occasional AT through-hiker but they all seemed to be in the same meditative state I was. The clouds overhead gave the illusion that it was much later at night than it was. I reached the vista point but had no view due to the fog and storm clouds. On I ran. Thunder rolled overhead and I hoped that I made it to the top before the rain started. I didn't mind the rain so much but the humidity made the rocks slippery as is. I reached the switchbacks and wondered if I should walk. I kept running. Toward the top, the trail turns very rocky, and it made more sense to hike it. About 2 minutes before touching the fire pit on the right of the trail that signifies the summit it began to pour rain. I reached the top in 58:30. Not a record by any means, but much faster than I had done a couple years ago. Turning around I decided to run fast. I wanted to see how fast I could run considering the downpour and thunder.

I slipped, and tripped, and careened my way down the side to the Priest, picking my way around the slick rocks. This is what I came for. The Priest was making it worth my drive, worth the gas money. The Priest was killing me, and I was loving it. Soaked to the bone and feeling like I was dodging lightning, I made it back to the parking lot in 29:01. Also, not a record by any means but who needs records when you have a renewed and refreshed mind?

Run for Sanity

Racing is always a fun event. All too often though, we're too excited about a certain race or worried about a time split to enjoy a run. And if for whatever reason, that day doesn't agree with your stomach, or you come down with a cold, you're just out of luck. Unfortunately, I don't have any races in the near future. And actually, I don't have any races in the far future that I'm signed up for at the moment. Though, I think I'm going to take some time, and just run to enjoy being in the mountains and pushing myself simply because it's what makes me happy. I think if I shifted money that I usually spend on races to just drive out to the mountains to run, I'd be able to trade 10 trips out to the mountains for a race or two.

I understand the breakdown of costs associated with mountain ultras (especially the logistical nightmares 100 milers are). And for the most part, after you look at the costs associated with the race and how much they end up being, the per-mile-cost is 99% of the time better for a 100 miler than it is with a 5k or marathon. That being said, they still cost a hand full of coins.

...Maybe I'll do some longer runs solo this summer, or just suck it up and shell out some clams for a race.