Long report …
After a day on the summit, watching the Ascent, I was both inspired and humbled. Inspired in that I saw incredible performances: people beating their goals, a sub 2:10 debut by a kid, incredible athletes slogging through a closing mile in 20 minutes. Humbled in that I saw what an off day on the mountain could do: a former champion running over a half hour slower than he had the year before, folks who trained for this day but for whatever reason did not have the day they thought would or they should and be 5, 10, 20 minutes – or more off their goals.
I knew it was a bit of a coin flip for me as to what sort of day I was going to have. I felt as fit as I had in a long time, but I was not sure how my foot would hold up, and more importantly – how my head would hold up. I have too often gone out in this race too fast for my abilities – even when it has felt easy, and paid for it on the upper stretches. I figured if the foot behaved, I executed well, and I got blessed with a little luck – then I’d be due for a good day. If any of those went south, well … it be another year of what could have been.
I elected to run in the Cascadia’s for a bit more cushion and protection around the possibly broken / bruised toes. Nick and I headed over to the start relatively early to secure decent parking near the finish and jogged very easily over to the start. There we caught up with several folks including Jim M, Jim P (these two guys were coming back for the Double), Justin, Ward, Mr. Parry, and others. We yapped a bit about Leadville, the Ascent the day before and couple of us got collared to be interviewed for the local television station. I hit the port-alets a few times, jogged a bit and before I knew it – it was time to line up.
I took a position to the far left of the street (as you look at the mountain) as I typically do and shared a few words with Matt about the off course craziness the day before. And then we went.
My comparison splits are up. Here they are as well.
Start 0
Ruxton 2:53
Hydro 6:24 9:17
Top of Ws 21:51 31:10
No Name Creek 14:47 45:57
7.8 Sign 16:02 61:59
Barr Camp 16:52 79:47
Bottomless Pit 12:18 92:06
A Frame 23:36 1:55:42
2 to go 16:29 2:12:11
1 to go 15:27 2:27:38
Summit 19:05 2:46:43
Here is what Carpenter’s calculator puts me at for a 2:46:47 (what they recorded for me up top) Ascent.
Essentially, I tried to keep my effort measured – first off of perception and then secondly I’d check the monitor. I know there are some folks who give me grief for wearing the strap, but it is a tool for me (like the gloves for my hands). This tool allows me to dance with “the line” a bit better. That said, I’d glance at the HR and see 175-179 and felt fine. I’d hit a couple of big rock step ups and I could feel a little zap, check the HR monitor and see 180, 181 and so I’d back off just a hair to get things back within limits. It worked.
As we rolled up towards Ruxton, I was running adjacent to Bernie. I consciously made the decision to not pass him because I expected him to be much further ahead of me later in the race. It was easy. How easy? In the pic below you can see Bernie in the gold and me in the great in the distance just over Peter F’s hat. We are back a bit!!
Nonetheless, we hit Ruxton in 2:53, a zippy split. He began to pull away as we started the climb. Of course there were still lots of folks here and I was beginning to roll some of them up. I had to remind myself to not specifically worry about them because this was not the race.
We started the grind up the Ws and there was a few guys just behind me. I told one right behind me (who seemed to be right on my ass) that he could have the trail if he wanted it but he declined. I listened to his breathing for a bit and – well, this might seem a bit cocky – but I knew he’d be there for a bit but he was going to crack. I thought he’d might even be there through No Name Creek, but I somehow knew that he was a bit over “the line” and that it was going to catch him.
I just tried to get lost in my thoughts – not thinking particularly about and section, but just being in the moment and focus on the trail ahead of me. It felt steady, measured and controlled.
Just below No Name I spotted a couple of guys ahead on the switch backs. They started coming back and as they took the aid station at No Name slow, I caught up to them there. I tucked in behind them on the single track and we had a good little train going. As we hit the flatter sections above that, one of the guys fell back and the other – clearly an Italian team member, gapped me pretty quickly. As the climb to Barr Camp came I passed him. I tried to share a few words, but he clearly did not speak English. I told him “halfway”, and “50 percent,” but I am not sure he understood.
I knew the game began to change at Barr, and so I wanted to be sure to keep the same level of focus and effort past there. “Run to the Bottomless Pit – no walking” I chided myself. The effort of near 80 minutes and near 4k of climbing was there in the legs, but it was managed and controlled. I knew at this point I was executing well, but I also knew that more than half of the run was up ahead and that a lot of time could be lost here. I did a bit of math and thought that if I played it right a sub 2:50 to the top was in the cards.
I was suddenly surprised to see a gold jersey ahead the very familiar stride of Bernie. I had not been this close to Bernie in a race since 2006. And he was coming back. I hesitated in passing him for a moment, but it came. Unrelenting, he locked right back in on my heels. I knew that even if I somehow ascended faster than him he be much more likely to put multiple minutes into me on the down. We grunted (literally) through spit filled mouths and panted breath at each other. Bernie was clearly feeling the effort he had put in the day before at Taos – essentially, I was racing a guy who had sort of Doubled.
A few minutes later we spotted a red jersey and I knew it was a Fleet Feet jersey. My heart fell a bit because I knew that was Justin, and with that, I knew he was having one of those days. I hoped he’d be able to pull out of it, maybe with the descent – but having been there I know how hard that is physically, and mentally.
We hit the A Frame collectively. I went through the station a bit slower, trying to take multiple waters and gatorade and so Justin and Bernie gapped me some.
Again, I knew I had to reset because the race here hits a new game changing level: tree line. The rules change. 3 miles and 2k feet of climbing. The wind was loud up above. I did the quick math and I knew a sub 2:50 was still a possibility in the cards, but I would not be allowed a lot of dicking around. And on some of the bigger rock step ups I began to succumb to the walk. I tried to get back to the run as quickly as possible each time, and started the game of counting running steps. Okay – count 100 left foot running steps. These are 100 for JZ. Okay now KZ. And on and over again.
I could see that Bernie was now putting more daylight between me and him, but Justin – who had gained some ground out of the A Frame was coming back. Before the 2 mile to go sign, I caught him. He gave me some kind words of encouragement, telling me I was in 12th place.
I knew I was slowing here – I could feel in the effort but I could not in many cases get my legs to go. I’d glance at the HR monitor and see high 160s. No altitude specialist, but I think it is very hard to keep higher HRs up that high – well, at least for me. Might be that central governor at work.
The Italian I passed at Barr Camp came back and passed me. Ok, 13th. It was clear Bernie and this guy were putting good distance on me above treeline – and this was while he was WALKING (incredible). On the steeper stuff, the Italian would begin to come back a touch, but then on the flatter stuff, he’d begin to roll away.
At 2:11 into the run, I heard the cog horn and thought that was Carpenter getting to the summit. I heard it again right around 2:18 and thought that was Daryn. As it turns out that was Matt. He came buzzing by on the long stretch to the 1.5 mile hose aid station.
Not much to say about the run up high other than … it was hard. I could feel a touch of cramping in the calves for the first time here. This is perhaps the most mental part of the race. It is so hard to keep going, particularly at the run because every fiber of your being says not too. I would periodically glance at the watch to see if the sub 2:50 was in the cards, but I was at a point where I was struggling to do even basic math. Lead runners were coming back down, and I was losing count of how many went by – simply because I did not care. The winds were pretty strong and pushed me around a bit. Gazette shot here ..
16 Golden Stairs and then a lot of walking. I finally hit the summit (I tagged my watch at 2:46:42 but officially they have me I guess when I left at 2:46:47). I only began to realize how worked I was as I stood there for a moment while they took my tag. My head was truly spinning, my legs were concrete, lead, sand. I wanted to be done, but I knew that was not the plan. And so I headed out. The not caring up high, the feelings in the head and legs – all very familiar with these levels of effort up there.
I started the down carefully. I was very consciously telling myself to be careful, not to fall, not to twist the ankle, assessing the left foot (which had been holding up beautifully). I felt a sub 4:30 ought to be in the cards, but I knew it would take a solid decent from me. It’s just a 1:43 man – you can do that. I saw Justin coming up, and several other runners quickly and was convinced I soon be in a battle for position with them.
More runners, and as I was getting down, and getting the climbing feeling out of my legs I was feeling more positive. I looked to push some positive energy by shouting words of encouragement to those coming up.
But as I went over some of those big rock step downs, I could feel the zip of tightness and cramps running up the back inside of my hamstrings, and then over into my lower quads – particularly in the right side. I have felt this before – but really only in this race. I changed gait a bit to work it out, but I knew it would be an issue to plague me throughout the down.
Just after the Cirque I saw Jim Peterson and we shared some fun words that got the SAR guys cracking up.
I knew I was slow going down, but I was not sure how slow. I was able to open it up bit on the longer stretch from the cirque to the 2 mile to go sign. The switchbacks were ridiculously slow – compared to past years, as the combination of being careful, avoiding people, hobbled by the cramps, and just not having prior years speed was evident. Looking at the Garmin splits, it took me nearly 13 minutes (!) to get down through the first mile.
When I got to treeline, I saw it had taken me more than a half an hour. Able to do a bit more math now with a bit more air, I knew it would be tough to get that time back down low, as you could almost smell the heat building as you dropped. Now three plus hours into the effort, I could feel the strain. I looked up before disappearing into the trees and I could see Justin just a few swtichbacks up. I suspected the cramps I was dealing with might have been a lack of salt so I took a handful of pretzels at the A frame … and chewed those (into a disgusting cud that sat in my cheeks until Barr Camp).
I kept telling myself to NOT FALL. On the down, while trying to run fast, in the shadow of the trees, roots hide and as you are tired, it seems a lack of focus can just set me up for a disaster. As I hit the trees, I tried to pick up the pace, as the trail is a bit less technical. Nonetheless, on one stride, I hit pointy rock perfectly with the left foot – right on the scar tissue. A one in a million shot, but I probably was due. This did not effect me for the race, but it left a nice blister filled with blood post race.
A few switchbacks below treeline and before Bottomless Pit, I saw Bill Lee of burro racing fame.
Periodically, I get these wonderful zips up the back of my legs, cramping, and I’d slow and adjust my stride (more straight legged) to work the cramp out. Back to Barr Camp, I slowed to get a couple cups of water and an additional cups of Gatorade. I saw the watch at 3:40, and thought 50 minutes down would be right at the cusp of what I could do. It was going to be push.
Just below Barr Camp, some guy appeared above me and I was convinced it was Ward. We hit the slight flat, climb on the trail past Lightning Creek and he was gone. I am suspecting he might have been some hiker that I passed that decided to jog for a bit. The little climbs on the way back were their typical brutal curse. You can see those bumps in the HR. Ow.
I kept doing math now, and knew that 4:30 was going to be tight. I was working, going down with a HR at 170 or higher. I hit No Name Creek and it started getting really hot. At earlier aid stations I’d thank the volunteers for being out there but I was past that now – just taking fluids quickly on a jog and sloshing on. The cramping was coming more frequently, and I was even getting some cramping in my biceps!
Just below No Name, I started dealing with hikers, and dogs. In one case, a dog got a bit skittered by me, it went left, then right and I was trying to avoid it on a tight trail, with people and fencing on one side. The trail had loose gravel from recent rain and washouts. I spoke to some people afterwards and at this point in the race, your physical reaction abilities are like you are drunk. It does not take much to know you over. I bounced off my ass (thankfully I had my gloves and so they did not hurt. I was a bit annoyed and curse a “what the hell!” – which was not very nice but I was bit irked by the hikers, dogs – and thought they probably ought to get it under control for the next 750 plus runners coming down the trail.
In the W’s I saw a runner ahead. No way. I speculated maybe he was a marathoner who just turned around. A few switch back down, and I passed him with little fight. Hitting Ruxton, I thought I’d be stoked to be off the technicality of the trail, but the road really hurt. The HR climbed into the 180s and I was mentally fighting that urge to give in. The road seemed infinitely long, but this was the only place in the race where I began to hear dark voices. Just before the crowds became visible, I saw the watch roll to 4:30. I hit the crowds and gave some folks high fives, but I was challenged to even smile. I turned the corner and saw Nick C yelling for me and gave him a sheepish grin.
4:30:55. Finish. Once in the tent, I got some food and water. Justin came in shortly after me and we exchanged a few words. He obviously was not happy and moved on pretty quickly. I decided to lay down with my feet up for a few minutes to re-equilbrate the blood pressure (this is a pretty necessary thing for me post runs after this). It helped a lot. No IV necessary this year (although they are nice) Another Gazette photo (that is a bag of ice on my chest to help cool off).
On whole a very good race for me. 12th overall. Had the race gone for another quarter mile, I probably would have been caught. My descent was rather poor at 1:44 and change, and I will probably think about where I could have taken 56 seconds back (up high, aid station, pushing a bit more). But it was my 2nd best ascent ever, and my best in the marathon by 2 minutes, and my best since 2006.
Frosting on the cake was winning the Masters age group (which lands me some hardware that is significantly larger than what some guys get in the top ten – sheesh!) – and I made sure to thank Bernie and Matt for doing their part to get in the top ten to help me with that. It probably also helped that the next four guys in the Masters slots were all DOUBLING. But, yeah – I am very happy with the award. I had not set goals specifically for a place, because I knew that would come if I executed well – and such goals are dependent on who shows up.
Before heading out for the race, Nick and I were yapping. I said “some days you are the wind shield, some days you are the bug.” Nick replied, “And today, we are kick ass windshields.” We were today. But I know what it is like to be the bug. It happens. I recognize how difficult it is to do well at this race, so I am certainly going to enjoy this moment. I realize, having had bad days out there, I may never run faster than I did yesterday, so I have to be in this moment versus look to the horizon. However, even if yesterday had gone poorly, I had come to the point of realizing that the race was more a celebration of the moments leading up to the start. I truly enjoy the journey as much, and maybe more than the destination. In this case, the destination was very sweet, but it would not have changed the journey had it not been.
Things done right: Good base of training, good execution down low, positioned myself to be able to continue execute up high since I did not red line down low, good attitude in the race, wore gloves, listened to my body and the HR monitor in the race
Things done wrong: I might need to take S caps for a race like this (more salt) to prevent cramps, and a slow(er) descent. To that end, I might need to work the foot work, and confidence a bit more on the technical down.
HR from this year:
HR from 2009:
Generally speaking the graphs above look very much the same. I know that clearly last year was one of those days that was bad, and this year was a day that was good. But on that bad day, I danced over the line – and like a cliff, once you go over the edge, on a mountain, at altitude – you are probably not going to come back.
All that said, the marathon is a ridiculously abusive race. The Ascent is pretty damn epic without the non-anesthetic version of major dental surgery that comes with the marathon. 7800 feet of down, and finishing in the heat. Ack. Nick said on his blog – and I agree: With my top-10 finish, I get a free entry for next year. While I can choose the Ascent or the Marathon, I think it's going to take me quite some time to think that running the Marathon again is a good idea. While I retain the right to reconsider, I'm gonna say right now that the Pikes Peak Marathon is the toughest race I have ever undertaken. By comparison, the Ascent last year was child's play.
Ended the day with enjoying the buzz of everyone at the awards assembly. I even yapped with 81 year old DOUBLER Keith Wood. I told him to work on those records because I was coming after them in a bunch of years. He grinned.
Lots of pix, results, posts, over at the PP site.
Other reports:
Jeff V – Ascent – tough day for one of the best climbers I know.
Nick Clark – Marathon – FOUR HOURS. This was a time I actually fanaticized about in 07 before reality struck and Nick nails it.
Justin M – Marathon, Justin had a “bug” day but I tip my hat to him for gutting it out: “there was zero percent chance of me not finishing.”
Ward – Marathon Ward shows meddle coming from sea level and fighting through. Officially now TEAM HURL. “A guy asks me ‘do you want to continue,” ah, is the Pope Catholic?”
Jim P – Doubler – awesome to see this guy nail a big PR in the Ascent.
Jim M – Doubler –Jim might have one of the best second Ascent days ever for a Double. I know technically he doesn’t because of what Mr Parr did in the Marathon over the Ascent the day before. But – racing as close as he did day over day – amazing.
Brad – Marathon – just moved here … watch this guy next year. Seriously. And in the Masters group.
From Leadville (the number of folks who DNF this race is intimidating!)
Lucho (and his pacer Footfeathers) – very stoked for Lucho. He has heard it from the lot of us giving him shit for tough races. He executed incredibly.
Brownie – big PR for this kid. And his croo told me that he was actually not a big baby at the aide stations this year.
Brandon (forthcoming)
Wyatt –I have yet to meet this guy but he toughed it out for the big buckle.
Chris – another local guy I have yet to meet – but also getting it done.
