Pikes Marathon Race Report

This is going to be long.

Sunday I woke up and felt fairly good.  Sure, I did not feel like I was ready to rip anything but I felt pretty good considering I had run 13 plus miles before up a 14er in a freaking blizzard.  I was pretty confident. 

Adding to this confidence was the weather.  I looked out my hotel room window and the Peak was visible under a full moon.  The entire upper slopes were covered in snow, but seeing the Peak was a good sign that the weather was much better than yesterday.

I made a decision to go with a more aggressive trail shoe than a racing flat, mostly because I wanted something that would bite through the snow.  Other than that, I geared up with nearly the same gear as yesterday, concerned that the weather could turn quickly.  In fact, as the start neared, clouds to the west could be see building.

Scott E and my family added a twist to this though ... they planned to be at the top and so I sent a drop bag there with a change of clothes, shoes, etc.  I figured if they would be there I would consider taking advantage of this rare treat.

In the warm up, my legs protested.  Not surprising but I just kept things easy and tried to slowly wake them up.  The big differences between yesterday and today were how my legs felt, the weather and my mental state.  On Saturday (the Ascent) it was as if I had no clue as to what I was about to embark on.  On Sunday, I was VERY aware of what I was about to do.  It was hard to ignore ... I could feel it freshly in my body.  I could see the mountain.  Was I psyched?  Yes.  Was I scared?  Yes.

Even after a slow start up Ruxton, 9:30 (compared to 8:59 on Saturday), I knew I was in for a challenge.  I had no lift, no drive.  So, I just tried to gear back and in.  But it was clear that today was going to be tough.  The W's or the early steep trail climb with all the switchbacks, that I had seemed to get through relatively unscathed yesterday got out a big can of whoop ass and did their damage on me today.  Having walked this section in years past, I refused to mentally give in this early and granny geared it through them, but began to give up places to several folks as we made our way up. 

On the traverse over to No Name Creek, it got really bad.  The fast packer crowd began to make their way past me.  Nothing against fast packers, I might do that someday but I ought not get passed by a guy with a backpack that looks like he is going on a week long vacation. 

Of course, mentally, this was discouraging.  I knew from a practical perspective, my goal of breaking 2:50 today was out the window and I saw 2:55 slipping quickly.  Could I break 3 hours?  Gee that would be nice but given the internal smell of disaster smoke that I could feel, I knew that was a long shot.

I must have lost somewhere between 15 and 20 places from the Ws to No Name Creek.  Shortly before No Name, the march bys stopped although I did not get any faster.  Yesterday while I ran most of the course, today I was walking anything steep and savoring  time in the aide stations.

Nonetheless at No Name Creek I could begin to see some of those who had passed me up ahead on the trail and they were not continuing to gain ground.  Regardless if a race is going well or poorly, your big goals on track or not, you end up setting small goals in the race.  Sure, they may adjust, or change but it is the only way to get through the next mile, the next lap on the track, to the next tree on a trail race. 

I got to Barr in a horrible time for me:  89 minutes and change.  A far cry from my 81 the day before (and even further from 74 two years ago).  I knew that while I'd probably do okay above treeline in terms of catching folks who'd struggle with the altitude, breaking three would be a long shot.  I know that there are those who see this as the midway place and hence where you ought to even split - but that has never been the case for me.   It has always been about a +10 minute job on the second half for me.  Whatever ... this was about completion at this point more than competition.  I did not like that of course, but DNF was not a freaking option.  EVER.

I ran into JV slightly below the Bottomless Pit and he tried to encourage me.  I think he has some video that I ought to be able to post at some time.  JV and I have run together enough that his encouragement was a bit lost.   In other words, I saw through it and told him so.  He laughed and basically said, that he was not going to tell me that I looked like shit even if I did look like shit.  I got a race report from him as to what the leaders were doing, and who was ahead.  The Spaniard who was leading the Double was long gone and I had also lost a spot at the moment to a guy named Dave from MO who was with team 180. 

I took in these data but they were not like kicks in the pants for me to get going.    I mean it was not like, "what?  I am now third in the Double?  Well, I better get off my duff NOW!"  No, I continued my trudge up the mountain.

For what it is worth ... getting up the mountain twice in the these two days has taught me a lot about the trail.  I noticed a lot of the side trails that I have read about but not seen.  I don't make any of the wrong turns that newbies make (and that I have made).  I used to find the section above Barr Camp to A Frame to be very tough ... I think it is actually very very runable now (of course, I am running slower and having gotten there more slowly).

And so, above Barr Camp ... folks began to come back.  I was still trudging slowly but I think my training at altitude was helping me or at least giving me an advantage over them.  While these victories were good for my mental state, and chasing folks down made for a good breakup of the race, I still physically was worked.  My legs had no drive.  My feet were wet and I could not work out a rock in my shoe into a place where it was not giving me a blister (I contemplated taking the shoe off but decided to just deal with it). 

At the A frame I threw on my shell and started the trek above treeline.  More bodies came to me.  Just before the two to go mark, I recognized the Team 180 guy and caught him (I think I got eight above Barr).  At the two to go mark, Matt Carpenter came flying down.    And this is where the snow on the trail became significant.  Before this, there had been a mix of some ice, some patches of snow but the trail was mostly its granite gravel standard.  Above there the trail tightened and was slippery with snow, packing into ice with the march of runners.

I began counting the downs, trying figure what place I was in and encouraging those who were coming down.  Justin came by in seventh, looking good but a good handful of minutes behind sixth.  He asked how many he thought he could get.  I told him two, but it would be work.  He ran a great descent, particular given the conditions of the trail and his feet, but he had lost too much ground to earlier places to catch any of those guys.  Still - his 4:15 - I give him tons of kudos and props for his first time ever on the hill.

The summit was lost in a cloud of fog and snow.  My family was there but they could not see me until the last hundred yards or so.  As I approached the summit, I yelled to Scott to get out the flats.  I had made a decision that I would go with the less aggressive shoe on the down, cursing myself that I had not worn it on the way up.  He got the shoes out as  I checked in at the summit.  3:07:48.  A full 19 minutes later than yesterday.  Ick.  I changed shoes and was heading back down the hill in two minutes on the nose.  I have no idea what that means from a transition time perspective but getting off a pair of shoes, getting on a pair and getting your race bib manipulated for a bit while sitting on a rock in the snow ... I think that was pretty damn good.

I knew that going with the flats over the "knobbies" was a risk on the down but I was willing to take it for the reward.  I wanted to roll and get a bit of redemption here.  The new plan was three fold:  catch ten guys down, break five hours, and not fall on my face.  I had counted myself into something like 30th place and made a sub goal the top twenty again.

The initial downs were tight.  If the trail is typically three feet wide under good conditions, it was crazy tight now with the snow - very much single track.  With runners still coming up, it was very exaggerated to get by them without clocking them.  And I did clip a few lightly ... shoulder to should stuff.  I just say, "sorry" and keep moving.  I tried to yell heads up, thank you and other words of encouragement as I went by.

I saw Brett just below the 1.25 aide station and high fived him.  I could begin to see my targets on the way down as the fog cleared.  I could also hear folks yelling "runner" for them as they came through so it gave me some radar as to where they were.  I tried to push but be careful in the snow with the people.  It felt good to be running down but I knew I had a long long way to go.  I recalled last year feeling good going down to A frame, then getting to Barr Camp wanting to be done and marching to my teeth sweating from Barr to the finish. 

And they started to come.  By A Frame I had gotten 6.  I knew this pace of catching would not keep up but was enjoying how it had started.  By the time I got to A frame, the crowds had thinned, and I was for the rest of the day running primarily alone.  I would end up catching five other guys.  I need to do some results analysis but I think the results only show 9, which means I passed two folks who were coming down that did not make the top (of course I did not know that in the race).

I was not super ripping it as I felt the strain in my quads building and I did not want to bite it.  Just above Barr Camp, I saw my watch roll 4 hours and I remembered my five hour goal and started to think about how far I could get below that. 

The run down was, as is the case, a long grind but I felt I had a better handle on it this year (the weather was MUCH cooler) than last year.  I was not nearly to the edge of collapse as last year.  I tried to keep my head down (literally ... when I get tired I tend to let my head roll back particularly as I look up or down the trail) and keep moving deliberately.  I have still to master the downhill in this race ... I can improve on it as much as ten minutes I think.

Not much to say about this section really ... I could see that I'd have an outside chance at breaking 4:50.  I was at 4:34 with three miles to go.  I thought 4:50 on a switchbacked trail with rocks would be a stretch.  I wanted it but I did not want to fall on my face as I was concerned I'd lose a place or not be able to finish. 

At two miles to go, my left lace came undone.  I did not stop to re-tie it.  Just before the transition to the road, I clipped a rock with my left big toe.  I will post a picture on this later but it HURT!  I wondered if I broke it but with a mile to go this did not matter.  I saw 4:44:45 with a mile to go and wondered if I could pull a 5:15 to get the 4:50.  While running downhill is easy, running down hill on a steep road after twenty five miles is hard ... particularly when you have not done a 5:15 mile in recent memory (seriously, I can't remember when I did that).  And then the lace came totally undone and the shoe started to loosen.

4:50:09.  19th place overall.  4th in the age group, 2nd Doubler.  No need for an IV this year.  I had some blisters lanced in the med tent.  The two did not look so bad at that point and so I did not have them do anything with it.  TZ thinks now however it might be broken.  The color under the big nail is ... interesting.

JV was in the med tent and took some shots that I hope to post later.  I found out my family was still on the mountain top with Scott helping people and so JV SAVED ME by lending me some dry clothes.  We hooked up with Justin Mock, did the typical post race exchange of how folks did.  Justin's foot was totally jacked with a giant blister so he was walking in a comical way - totally on his toes but with jacked quad to boot so he looked like he was dancing.  We grabbed a burger to finish off the day.

Oh yeah, in the med tent ... funny thing.  The woman that was starting to help me asked what I needed and I talked about my blisters.  I then said, "yeah, and I lost a toe on the trail and I'd appreciate if you could find it."  She paused, looked at my feet and exclaimed "OH MY GOD!  I H AVE READ YOUR BLOG!"

I have a lot of post race analysis to put up ... later.