Hells Hills 25K - First Trail Running Anniversary

Actually, Grasslands Half Marathon (race report) a year and a couple weeks ago was my very first trail race. But that's a race a lot of road half and full marathoners go off to do because it's relatively mild terrain (although I *hate* the sand) and convenient. I thought it was a trail race, until I went to other trail races. And it is one, don't get me wrong, but my initiation in trail running, complete with an out of town trip, felt more real at the Hells Hills race one year ago (race report from 2011).

My background of how I wasn't supposed to even be running this race, how I had just done a 50k two weeks ago, how I had lost major weight with illness last week, is all in my last blog post. Yet here I was, running the Hells Hills 25K again in Smithville, Texas (outside Bastrop). My whirlwind in-and-out 24-hour tour-de-trail-race started Friday afternoon at 3:30 pm. A 4 1/2 hour drive later, and I was in the land of Austin area trail running and settled into my hotel for the night.

4:20 am wakeup call. Yawn. I wanted to be there early because 1) I wasn't even registered yet, 2) I knew several people running the 50K and wanted to see their start and hopefully run into a friend or two. Right after getting registered, I ran into Fawn and Kerry. Fawn ran the 50M at Hells Hills last year. This year, she was running with Kerry for Kerry's first 50K! Then a woman came over and asked, "Are you Libby?" Uh, yeah? Well, I got to meet Rhonda, who had found this blog a few weeks ago and is a new blog follower! Fun! A weird moment when you realize people really do read this thing sometimes. I truly think of it more as my own Dear Diary and a way to update friends on the stories of my experiences when I can't rant, rave, and exclaim over coffee or drinks! Hey, Rhonda, if you are reading this, hit me up on Facebook so we can keep up with each other if we're running any of the same races in the future!

50K started at 6 am. I clapped and cheered their start, then I hung around until 7 am for our 25K start. Low 60s for the temperate with 97% humidity, which would later turn into hot, humid, and not a cloud in the sky. BLECH! Although this would prove kinda useful to me mentally since it was exactly the weather we had at this race last year!

I try to stay to the very back at the start. I'm keeping the pace conservative but it's so funny that rush at the start line. Now that I'm wearing my heart rate monitor, I could see the instant 15 bpm jump from resting rate when they yelled "Go". And I could see that the first mile I could not keep my heart rate in what I felt should have been a "warmup". The line of runners started to sort itself out, but then I get really annoyed at the 20 or so runners who had obviously shown up late and were way faster than me. Since I was at the race site an hour and 20 minutes before the start, I'm kinda feeling no sympathy for those folks and wish a single track trail race had a rule of no starts 2 minutes after the gun, or something equally strict. I practice my usually sweet demeanor for passing and getting passed on the trails, but it's messing with my rhythm and frustrating me!

2nd half of mile 2 was equally frustrating when the very fast 10K runners caught my pack of the back-end of 25K runners. Lots of stopping in narrow areas to let these fast guys pass. Again, don't mind and even enjoy the leapfrogging at times with people around my pace. But when you can hear the fast feet of a 9-minute-miler behind you, it's unsettling and unfocuses you as you prepare to scoot aside.

Right before the first aid station at mile 5.7, a gal in front of me said she wasn't wearing a GPS and had no clue how far we had gone. I asked her if she wanted to know. When she said yes, I said, "I think about half a mile." We round a bend suddenly, and boom, there's the aid station. This year, unlike last year, I laughed - GPS distance is a guideline, not a guarantee out on the trail. I've learned too that I don't pay attention to mile by mile pace anymore because those numbers just aren't real. So I had done some quick math and figured out what total time I hoped would elapse when I got to the aid station. So imagine my joy when I was 5 minutes ahead of schedule!

Coach Jeremy had told me to work on getting in and out of the aid stations at this race. Max of 2 minutes per station. So I walked into there, shoved my open water bottle at the volunteer for refilling. I thanked him furiously while grabbing about 10 M&Ms. I heard, "Libby!" Elizabeth, who is local to the Austin area and had run Gorge Waterfalls 50K also 2 weeks ago (which is where we'd finally met) was working the aid station. Totally tripped me up - I spat out, "Coach says get in and out quick here so can't talk but great to see you!!!" I took my refilled water bottle, shoved the pile of M&Ms into my mouth, and snatched an orange slice.

Verdict: 25 seconds!! I had passed the first attempt at speediness in refueling!

The next couple miles I kept with the "slow mile then fast mile" I was practicing based off heart rate readings. I had leapfrogged for a while with a woman named Dorothy. At mile 8, she stuck with me for about a mile. We enjoyed each other's company, but I did have to remind myself to talk less since it will make my heart rate climb. Even so, the "fast then slow" goals went out the window. The heat, humidity, and number of miles had caught up with me, and I wouldn't find that lower heart rate zone again for the rest of the race.

At almost 10 miles in, you come out to a couple beautiful meadows. I smiled so big. I even stopped and snapped a couple pictures.

Last year, Corina had said for a month leading up to this race that she better see bluebonnets. The picture on the race website at the time and stories told of bluebonnets in this meadow. We thought it would be a well-earned reward. But with the drought and heat of last year, the meadow was dry and brittle then with no flowers. This year: wildflowers of lots of colors. I didn't specifically note bluebonnets, but it was all very pretty. And while the cloudless sky but for a few wisps would make it hot in the late miles, it was so gorgeous right then.

Mile 10.8 aid station. I was still a few minutes ahead of my hoped pace from my quick calculations. One volunteer filled my water. I had to ask for Coke since none was out right then, and the girl fumbled. Her dad came over to fill half a cup for me. I did it like a shot of tequila and grabbed 5 pretzels and hit the road again.

Verdict: 50 seconds in and out! I beamed and knew Jeremy would be happy. I may not be fast but I had finally mastered anticipating what I would need at the aid station, getting it quickly, and not getting sucked into the happy place of the aid station environment so that you get back out on the course.

From here we hit a wider old Jeep road for a while and have some slow long climbs. Not a steep grade, especially compared to Gorge a couple weeks ago, but enough that everyone in my pace range was walking it. I passed several people over these miles and actually felt like all that powerwalking is finally making a dent on my pace.

Lost a minute around mile 12 trying to get water out of two empty coolers that had been set out. Mile 13 lost a minute refilling my water bottle. Didn't really need it, but I knew how hot the last 30 minutes would be, and it was a safety net.

Mile 14, I went off course. It looks like we intersected a farm road for a second. Somehow instead of reentering the woods, I took the road. I ran along this hot unshaded road for many minutes, and while I was worried I hadn't seen a marker, I knew there were less markers on road segments, and I could hear voices behind me. Then 4 ladies passed me. A barbed wire fence ran along my left side and suddenly I saw runners pop in and out of those trees. I was off course! And those stupid ladies weren't even with the race. Or maybe they had run the 10K and come out to this farm road for extra miles. I don't know what they were up to. I panicked! When did I get off? I was on PR pace!!! How far back would I have to go? There's a guy 100 feet back and I start yelling to him that we're off course. He wants to climb the barb wire fence where we see the runners on the other side. He's desperate and that's where his mind went to in his panic. I say, "That's barb wire! You'd get seriously hurt!" and I just keep high-tailing it back. I never looked back to see what he did. 

My heart rate has shot up, which means I know I'm burning precious glycogen. I worry my new Personal Record is slipping through my fingers. I get back to where the farm road joined up to the trail and jump back in. Now I'm looking at my watch and trying to guess how much time I've lost. Trying to guess how many tenths of a mile I had additionally done. Trying to do the math of "At mile 10.8 aid station, the Garmin said 9 miles, so if it says X now, am I at Y miles?" Foggy brain. And it's HOT which isn't helping it.

I later dug through the Garmin data to isolate this incident. I was off course for about 0.5-0.6 miles and I lost 8 minutes.

I enjoy the Hells Hills course, but I hate the last mile of it. You keep feeling like you are almost there, but you're not. Oh, there's the campground and all the tents. Oh, here's a farm road. Oh, here's a storage building. Until finally, you turn and you can see the long fence area of flags to point you to the finish. I finished strong with a 3:46, taking 10 minutes off my time from last year, setting a new personal record.

My paces are important as my training for Chattanooga means I'll have to get faster in the next 10 weeks. When I take out the 8 minute time loss, my timing broke down as the following...
13:58 for first 5.7 miles (to aid station 1), 
13:15 for next 5.1 miles (to aid station 2), 
15:10 for last 4.7 miles (ignoring the 8 min spent off the course).

Since I had those two stops for water in the last 5 miles, and the heart rate spike for getting off course, I'm happy with that 15:10 in the last section. I did a good job of consistent pacing.

And always a great part? Getting a pretty race medal. They had a great logo this year!

A Full and Crazy Last 2 Weeks

It's now been almost 2 weeks since my last big race. I was feeling pretty good after the race. Wednesday, I let you all in on the next BIG race goal I have planned and the 12 weeks of training that lay ahead. Thursday I got hit with a bad stomach flu. I mean B.A.D. I lost 5 pounds in one day.

No Road Trip For Me

It also means I sadly wasn't able to go to the Texas Independence Relay with the team I was captaining, the Queens of the Road. I love all these ladies, so not getting to spend all weekend with them left me so sad. I spent some of my time sick in bed getting everything set up for them, but I did have to be there when they picked up the rental vans since they were in my name. I almost lost it and started crying. It was good I didn't go because I was badly dehydrated and was sick off and on the rest of the weekend.

Before they left on their adventure - love these girls!

I was finally better enough Monday to run and do an hour of strength training with my trainer. And then on Wednesday, I did some heart rate training with a midday run. I tried to stay at a high Heart Rate Zone 2. And my mile splits reflected why I need to train at this heart rate zone. The first 3 miles had fairly consistent splits. And then the next 3 miles I was about 30 seconds per mile slower. Serious cardiac drift. Also showed me I can't maintain Zone 2 for very long runs in training right now.

Another Race As Training

Today I leave for Hells Hills 25K. Last year it was 2 weeks after my first trail race, and this was my first trail 25K. I finished in 3:56 and learned a lot about trailrunning. I wasn't planning on running it this year, but after having to stay home last weekend and being a sad Sally about it, Steve suggested I go to Hells Hills. Such a sweet husband!

I decided to run it and use it in my training to practice that HR Zone 2 more. Since we saw Wednesday that my pace suffers after just 3 miles at a high Zone 2 range, my plan for Hells Hills is this...

• 1st mile is the only real uphill and we're all sorting ourselves out in the line through the single track switchbacks, so I'll stay back and take mile 1 super easy.
• Mile 2 (by Garmin which isn't entirely accurate) at Zone 1.
• Mile 3 at mid- to high-Zone 2.
• Then alternate Zone 1 and Zone 2 miles through the rest of the race.

So my goals again are

1. to practice Zone 2 and hopefully get some more Zone 2 miles out by doing intervals with easier Zone 1 miles.
2. to get some trail time.
3. to gather some data about what my trail paces tend to be in each of the Zones.

Now it would be nice if I also have a shiny new PR with my second ever trail 25K and on the same course! But last year I was more trained to run harder at that distance. Since then I concentrate so much on marathon or 50K distances that I think I have lost a lot of speed at the half marathon or 25K distance.

And of course, I'll pick up a pretty medal. That's not all bad! Not bad at all (I actually really love this year's logo!).

The Next Big Goal - Rock Creek Outfitters Chattanooga Stage Race

3 mountains. 3 days. 60 miles. June 15-17. 12 weeks away.

3 weeks ago, after a month of hemming and hawing with my finger hovering over the "Register Now" button, I took a chance, and I signed up for Rock Creek Outfitters Chattanooga Stage Race.

I think the race has been around for about 10 years, but this is the first year the race director required you to sign up for the whole enchilada - all three days. The race is on "moderately technical trail" (their words) over 3 major mountains of Chattanooga, Tennessee.

Day 1 - Raccoon Mountain - 18 miles
Day 2 - Lookout Mountain - 22 miles
Day 3 - Signal Mountain - 20 miles
Here's a Flickr album of some amazing pictures! 

I had friends who ran it last year. Some really awesome, completed badass runners. It looked so pretty, they had an incredible experience, and it looked HARD. Ever since they had started talking about it last April I had wanted to do this race. I was not trained up enough last year - I was still training for my first marathon at that point. But I have thought about that race often since they got back last June.

Photo Credit: Race's FB Page!

The problem was the time limit. The race has gained popularity and now that he's started selling out, he plans to start tightening up the time cutoffs each year. As a business move, it makes sense - that's a long time over three days to be out there, and if you can fill the race with faster people and still sell out, go for it. But for me, there are other priorities in my life (my family) and genetics that will limit, even with all the reasonable training I put in, how fast I am going to get. And I'm a slow, but consistent, trail runner.

So for this year, on moderately technical trail for 3 straight days over 3 mountains, you have to manage a 15-16 minute per mile pace every day. If you can't on any single day, you'll be asked not to come back. GULP. The race director said over the next few years he will tighten requirements until he reaches that you need to be 13 minutes per mile for each race day.

Photo Credit: Race's FB Page!

I often think about the part in the movie "The Matrix" where the Oracle talks to Neo about the fact that he's already made the choice, but he doesn't see it because he doesn't yet understand the choice. Bad paraphrasing, but I hope you get the idea.

I don't endeavor to be secret with my race plans, but sometimes I'm slow to make them public. But I talk about my training and that I have goals so I'm sure I seem like a big tease at times. I'm not always sure I can see past the choice I've made. This is an example. I know that I should go for it at Chattanooga. It's only going to get harder to attempt this race. But I've spent a good 6 weeks deciding

• I'm a good runner even if I get told not to come back the next day
• It's fine if other people think I'm a lousy runner if I'm told not to come back the next day
• I'm proud that I have the fire in me to even try this and to sign up with no one I know going
• I have a lot of training ahead of me in 12 weeks to get ready for this race - I will not be told to go home because I simply didn't try
• I signed up weeks out and knew I would have to deal with whatever came out of the Gorge Waterfalls 50K race - maybe I can no longer stomach running for so many hours because of my pace, maybe I have an awful race, maybe I'm pulled off the course

So now that I had a good race at Gorge Waterfalls, everything falls into place. And I'm ready to openly talk about this next adventure and what it entails. I'm ready for anyone who wants to to follow along on my journey and my training. I'm ready to fail at completion but succeed at spirit and chutzpah if it comes to that.

A much more experienced trailrunner than me and hundred-miler, Jeremy, has agreed to coach and advise me the next 12 weeks. And I recently had my VO2 Max testing redone to aid my training as I focus on trying to do my best.

Come along on this ride! And maybe you'll want to join me on the next adventure!

Gorge Waterfalls 50K Race Report

All the agonizing, fretting, excitement, planning, preparing, researching, equipment-buying, training, powerwalking on a treadmill, my first experience running a marathon as a training run, the packing - it was all over. Race day was here.

Gorge Waterfalls 50k had pulled me in 5 months ago with its pictures and promises of a beautiful but challenging race course. I signed up four months ago, before I knew I was going to go through sinus surgery in the middle of the training cycle. I signed up, even though I knew it would be tight finishing in the time limit. And I signed up, even though I didn't know anyone else running it.

Even up to a day before, the course kept changing - 3 changes. This made a planner like me even more nervous. The course first changed because of sudden construction on the Gorge trails. Then it changed because the new course measured too short. Then race week, instead of the tropical storm they were supposed to get, the Cascade Mountains got snow dumped on them. Two days before, the race prep team found that the new 2500 ft ascent had hip deep snow! So it was changed again.

After flying in Friday night, I scouted the course for a couple hours Saturday morning. And I spent the day carb-loading: 3 donuts from the famous Voodoo Doughnuts, spaghetti and meatballs lunch with runner friend Andleeb at Pastini's, and lamb and gnocchi for dinner with Twitter friend and runner Teri (@runnerteri) at Portfino.

Race day morning, all my prep meant I was at the race early and in proper form. Two weeks of no Starbucks Mochas. 10 days of calorie monitoring (I dropped 3 pounds). One week of no alcohol. One week of major water hydration (about 150 ozs a day). Proper physical taper.

The weather was perfect, more so than we expected that morning. In the 40s all day. It was humid which kept you warm  And the 50% chance of rain never turned into any actual precipitation. True, it was cold, but the layers I'd practiced and planned were just right (tights, long sleeve shirt, light running vest, gloves for the beginning, and ear warmers).

So I'm in the parking lot 15 minutes before packet pickup even starts. A few of us stand around chatting. We're not quite sure where packet pickup or the start will be. But everyone's so relaxed about everything. About the time packet pickup should open, word travels through the crowd that James, te race director, has had a flat tire on the way here and he's waiting for a tow. Roadrunners would have generally lost their mind. But we all said, "oh, ok". We all just hung out and talked, all prepped a little. I nibbled two ginger lemon cookies (I had a bialy, kinda like a bagel, already for my breakfast) so I would keep getting calories in since I was sure we'd start a little late.

Texas Runners! (Although they are from the Austin area so I was the sole Dallasite) - Rod, Ben, Me, and Elizabeth

Race director James arrives and we all quietly, orderly, shuffle through packet pickup without a single gripe. Man, I love the trailrunner personality.

We start about 20 minutes late after the trail briefing. As part of it, James warns that there are several sections with ice, mud, or slippery rocks where we need to be careful and slow down. "There are cliffs and if you fall, you will die." We all nervously laugh. He says, "It's not funny."

We start and immediately, like the first 50 feet, hit a bottleneck across a skinny little bridge. Ha! Then through a field, across some boulders, and we cross a road to start the ascent. The first mile or so of switchbacks are paved trail. But this is steep! And we're in a big train of powerwalking fools. I smartly lined up toward the back, and they've switchbacks quickly spread everyone out. I will spend the first handful of miles bouncing around with 6 or 7 fun and energetic ultrarunners from out of state.

I planned to run by heart rate zone the whole race. Zone 1 and low Zone 2 are the most efficient zones, where I burn about 50% fat calories (save those carbs, i.e. glycogen). Zone 4 is a no-no. It's anaerobic and you burn only glycogen, not good for an endurance race. You'll bonk quick here.

My powerwalking sucks my heart rate up quick. Something I want to work on in the future. I hit Zone 4 a few times on this ascent. I curse myself repeatedly. Bad, bad Libby!! When heart rate is lower I feel like I'm moving like molasses. 

We do the majority of the ascent and then spend a couple miles along the cliff, working our way up high around a deep valley. During the whole ascent and this skirting we jump across rocks of big and little streams and see lots of smaller waterfalls. My shoes and socks are soaked 2 miles in with a stream whose rocks are drowned by all the melting snow. And that's some COLD water. While skirting the valley, we deal with a mile or so of slushy snow, packed down snow from all the runners ahead of me that's now a little icy, and mudpits formed by the tread of everyone who came before me.

Craig and Janice from California crossing a stream carefully. See that dropoff on the bottom left side. Yeah, that's a cliff. 40 foot plus drop or so.

This race had such rocky terrain for this Dallas girl. It slowed me down so much trying to keep my feet from being turned to hamburger.

More rocks - this was the standard look of the terrain for much of the race. Ugh.

We'd hit smaller waterfalls, like this one below running down a wall of rock, and small creeks over and over again. You quickly lost count.

We hit Multnomah Falls and our downhill of 1600 ft. It's slower going down than I thought I would get to be because of fighting through rocks. The cliffs provided a dilemma - the least rocks and flattest terrain would be about 12 inches wide right along the cliff edge. The next 2 feet before the wall would be rockier. I am not so fearless as I would sometimes like to be, and would like of my little girls often, which left me fighting rocks much closer to the wall.

As part of the descent, Multnomah Falls has 11 switchbacks of paved trails. And this was where we encountered our first of the obstacle known as TOURISTS. It wasn't so bad through here early in the day but it was much more disruptive coming back. This is a major Oregon tourist destination. We were guests there so we exercised lots of courtesy which could cost you seconds here and there but helped ensure the Forest Service would allow the race again next year!

I loved the paved switchbacks and careened down them, taking back time I had lost on the uphill. After some more trail, I hit the mile 7 / mile 23 aid station at about 2 hours. And that's when I slapped my forehead and knew I needed to ignore all paces on my Garmin. Switchbacks and those elevation changes had seriously jacked with my paces and distance, and I found I was much faster than I thought I had been going. At the aid station I dipped two boiled potato pieces in salt, then left there with 3 chocolate chip cookies and 6 peanut M&Ms in one hand and a big orange wedge in the other. Jeremy always says, "get in and out as quick as you can!"

I had also been doing my honey stinger chews and GUs as planned. I stayed on target with that the whole race, consuming 600 calories of supplements besides all the aid station foods.

Back onto the trails, about a mile further down we hit an area that I decided to name Rockslide. It was about a mile of a bit of forest and then you'd hit a spot where at some point a rockslide had occurred and then repeat. Some rockslides were a mix of red volcanic dust and smaller rocks. 

One of the easy rockslide areas, small rocks and lots of dirt.

Others were big rocks where you couldn't tell a path at all and would play "guess which rocks are loose" on.

Yes, we started at the top between the two trees and went straight through to the bottom center of this pic. Do you see a path? I don't. Scrambled across the rocks and hoped you didn't hit one that was TOO loose.

Then a couple gorgeous waterfalls through this area would make you forget the hard terrain for a second. Here's Oneonta Falls.

Looking down on the falls area after I've crossed the bridge and made a couple switchbacks uphill

The bridge I crossed

THAT'S how steep the switchbacks were. I'm practically right under them but that's a few switchbacks up from me!

Then we ran BEHIND a waterfall. The beautiful Ponytail Falls. 

Before going behind the waterfall...

...And now out on the other side of it!

The next section was a winding mile and a half of very narrow single track with big mossy rocks in your path and overgrown ferns. During the race I nicknamed this area the "Primordial Soup". There's moss grown over entire boulders, downed trees, I think I even see an old forest service gate at one point grown over back in the woods.

One of the wider sections here, but steep downhill drop if you slip and lots of boulders!

Unfortunately at my pace, this was also where about 50 people had to pass me coming back. I know because I kept myself going by counting off every person who passed and giving a big smile and a "good job!" every single time. Some like #29 were overwhelmed focused on the tough terrain and almost body checked me as we passed each other - I don't think she ever saw me coming until that last second. Others like #38 stepped completely aside for me - a great gesture since my time isn't valued generally like the competitive folks in the front. I stood my ground more at this race, insisting with my body that if the space would allow it, we could both run by each other while squeezing into the forest edge a little. Where there wasn't room I would easily acquiesce, stop and step aside, the courtesy I think we all expect the slower runner to yield. The dance on single track in trailrunning is an interesting one.

At almost mile 12 was 2.2 miles of paved road shoulder. Not in the original course, and not the race director's first or second choice, it was what had to be done to find the distance after the last minute trail construction and snow issues. I shuffled along and waved to friends who passed me coming back. While you wanted to speed through this "easy" part of the course, I kept my heart rate in check and just hung out and recovered at an easy pace.

Still super scenic even on the shoulder of a road

Mile 14.3/16.3 aid station sends us back into the trail. I stop for boiled potatoes. I grab a couple cookies and more peanut M&Ms and know I'll be back soon. We are heading out to Elowah Falls, our turnaround point, before we repeat the whole route backwards!

I pass about 10 people on the way to the falls. The terrain's annoyingly rocky. One woman who passes me coming from the falls says, "Girl, in two minutes, this will all be worth it". Multiple people passing comment on what they jusy saw: "It will blow your mind." "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I speed up in excitement. And then I'm there and it truly is breathtaking. My face has lit up like a Christmas tree. Lush green moss everywhere, gigantic boulders, a roaring stream, and a 500 foot gushing waterfall, Elowah Falls, that covers me with spray and seems to reach all the way up to where the sun blindingly appears out from the tree canopy.

Paradise!

The falls is in this tiny isolated valley with these huge, moss-covered boulders

Happy Trailrunner Self-portrait Time!

I snap some pictures and check my watch. 4 hours for half the course! So unless I slow down by over 1 1/2 hours going back, I'll make the time cutoff! All my worries melt away, and I feel lighter.

Another mile or so back to Mile 14/16 aid station. The volunteers help fill my hydration pack. I had started the race with 70 ounces (2 liters), and, while it was heavy, I'm glad I didn't have to refill more than once. So I left aid station 16 with another heavy 70 ounces to carry me to the end. A 4 oz cup of coke and another 2 boiled potato pieces before I leave. More peanut M&Ms, two chocolate chip cookies. I end up putting the cookies in a front pouch of the pack and eat them about a mile down the road. 

2.2 miles of road again. I know now that only 4 people are behind me. There's no pride, there's no shame, it's just where I stand. Road is boring, and I am not looking forward to the Primordial Soup area again. The claustrophobic feel of the narrow single track, the winding, how eerily quiet that area is, you feel completely alone like you are miles and miles from the nearest living thing.

A few waterfalls. A few pictures taken. Back through Rockslide area. Uneventful. Just chugging along. 

Time seems to move slowly. I'm over the twenty mile mark. 

I hit the aid station for miles 7/23 at 6 hours. I sit in a chair and retie my shoes. A volunteer pumps me up with comments about how I only have two more hours or a little more. In the last ten minutes it had already sunk in. I tell him there's a chance I'll PR on this difficult course. Another cookie, more M&Ms. The 11 switchbacks of Multnomah Falls are a killer. I'm dodging tourists and feel like I'm hardly moving. The whole ascent and then skirting the valley up on the cliff in my head feels like it was hours. And while my heart rate isn't awful, I feel like the total heart pumping time is wearing on me. I feel like it's beating hard. I feel like I can't completely get my breathing under control. I'm a little woozy and my stomach feels a little knotted and off. I stop sometimes and just stand for a minute and hold on to the wall next to me. After about a mile of this and feeling so slow-going, I sit on a steep mound of soft moss an plants and put my head between my knees. Two minutes and I feel a world of difference. I talked to two other people who experienced the same thing. Wish I knew the cause. But wish even more that I had done the head between the knees thing a mile earlier. 

The descent starts and I'm going through tons of sticky slick mud from the 250 runners who came before me. Great, it's bad flashbacks to Cross Timbers Trail Marathon 2012. Then I see Janice and Craig from California up ahead of me a little ways. It's motivation. I haven't seen another runner since the turnaround. I don't have a desire to pass them, just to catch up. But they're strong on the rocky flat areas so I only slowly gain ground as I'm now trying to haul.

I finally catch them when we hit the paved trail steep switchbacks. But we saw on the out portion of the course that I was a better downhill runner and as I had told them at mile 7, "but you're both better at everything else!" So I pass them quickly and I am gaining speed from here. I would kill for a perfectly accurate measure of splits through here because I outdid myself. But I groan loudly at the very sharp turn of every switchback. I had heard people say this course kills your quads, and I hadn't understood. It was the downhill while holding yourself back, people would say. Still didn't get it. Midway through the race I could see that it would be sections where you opened up your stride downhill only to suddenly stop short from super rocky sections - this happened a lot. Or how a lot of the severe downhills would be switchbacks where you suddenly had to slam on the brakes, do a 180 and  then go again. That said, while I let out a big groan during those switchbacks, after the race my quads felt fine. I knew those naturally overly developed quad muscles would come in handy, even as my trainer has worked hard to make other muscles learn to carry the load! Ha!

I make it all the way down to a race official at the road and I say, "How much farther?" I've been ticking away the minutes on my watch as I realized I was close to my 8:21 PR set on the relatively flat Rocky Raccoon 50k course.

She answers, "1.5 miles." All the wind is let out of my sails. Oh. That PR is not gonna happen. In my happy puppy-ness of the first 30 minutes of the race, I had not realized it was so far.

Oh well, how close to the PR can I get? Plus I've found out the last couple miles that I have a lot more gas in the tank than I thought I did, so let's see what this body can do. And what it does it gets me on the wrong path for a minute and a half as the body is doing okay but the mind is getting tired. Oops. Back on the path, I'm ticking through the minutes. Back across the road, back across the boulders, and then my gosh, was the field we ran through in the beginning this long? Back across the bottleneck bridge, around a corner, and I see the finish line. I lengthen my stride an actually have a pretty fantastic kick in the end! 

8 hours and 30 minutes. Only 9 minutes slower than my PR. And amazingly, 15 minutes faster than my performance at Wild Hare 50k which had 4800 feet less of elevation gain and matching decline! And my first half of the race was 4:00 and second half was 4:30, and when the second half had a 1600-ft ascent at mile 27 or so, I'll take those splits!

I'm ecstatic! In the last mile of the race, I was very emotional and was expecting I would sob at the finish line but I'm too happy and surrounded by such smiling faces. Race director James shakes my hand and congratulates me, twitter friend Sarah (@sarah430) is working the finish line and introduces herself, and new friends Mark and Elizabeth are there.

Immediately after I saw my finish time I knew I want to go back to Rocky Raccoon because I now think I could do so much on that course and break my PR with the training I've been through and the knowledge I've gained.

Gorge Waterfalls 50k lived up to its promise. A challenging race. An absolutely beautiful course. A personal friendly race production. I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a scenic challenge!

Next Up: Captaining a team this weekend for the 4th year in a row at the Texas Independence Relay, a 203-mile relay race. We have an amazing 10-person team called the "Queens of the Road". Ready for a fun weekend!

Last Run Before the 50K - Perceived Exertion vs Heart Rate Zone Test

Perceived exertion test compared to heart rate zones. Hadn't run since Sunday with Steve out of town until late last night. The Gorge Waterfalls 50K race is in 48 hours.


0.1mi warmup walk. 1 mile at Zone 1, perfect 50% of calorie burn was fat, 11:30 pace. THIS IS AROUND WHERE I WANT TO FEEL FOR 9 1/2 HOURS SUNDAY OR I WON'T MAKE IT. 


Then... 1 mile at Zone 3, pushing over anaerobic threshold in the last 1/4 mile. only 27% of calorie burn was fat as an average, 10:08 pace. This is what makes you hypoglycemic in an endurance race! DO NOT DO THIS!


Ended with 0.25 mi cooldown walk. Heart rate recovered quickly, which was great to see.


Legs feel good. Calves slightly tight. 
Immediately had 2 scoops of L-glutamine powder when I came in the door along with a bagel to start putting in carbs for the slow 48-hour carb loading.

A Peek Into My Pack for Gorge Waterfalls 50K

For Gorge Waterfalls 50K on Sunday, I've started my packing, and repacking, and checking, and repacking. ;-)

I laid out exactly what I wanted to carry with me for 9 1/2 hours. Below is the anatomy of my UltraSpire Surge pack. Note I will also put my phone (I always feel better having it on me, just in case) in the waterproof pocket the camera is in, and may chop up half a bagel to put in the main pack compartment for added fuel since aid stations are 10 miles apart. Click on it to see the picture big with text!

Now to lay out my apparel and gear and inventory!