Pikes Peak Marathon

Why did I sign up for this race? As I stood in the Garden of the Gods last week and stared up at the summit of Pikes Peak I reflected on how I had gotten to this point; after running a couple marathons and then ultra marathons over the last few years, the prospect of a race that was not only horizontal but vertical seemed like an intriguing challenge. Now that I was face to face with the task at hand I couldn't help but feel anxious to get started.

I was pretty confident I would finish under the 10 hour cutoff but beyond that, I wasn't sure what to expect. I told friends and family I was shooting for 7 hours (2pm finish) +/- an hour to give them an idea of when to expect me. Privately, I thought 6.5 hours would be a great time. Resting at 7500' the night before the race, my heart-rate felt a little elevated. I checked my pulse, 46 bpm. I don't time it regularly but that is pretty freakin slow. Seemed like all the work I'd put into training had paid off. Now it was time to execute.

I arrived in Manitou Springs, Sunday morning, about an hour early for the 7am start. I was worried about finding a parking spot but that turned out to be a non-event and I probably could have showed up 20 minutes before and still had plenty of time. My plan was to start out easy at a reasonable pace. I had heard that some people go hard the first 1.5 miles on the road to get a good place in line before it becomes single file on the lower sections of the Barr Trail. The idea of pushing the pace one mile into a potential six hour race seemed crazy to me so I lined up near the back of the pack and calmly waited to cross the start after the gun sounded.
 

Outside of some hiking the previous few days I had pretty much been relaxing the week before the race. My last run was on Tuesday. I planned to squeeze in one more but it never happened. Needless to say I was quite rested and itching to run. As we made our way through town and passed the railway station, I felt great. An older gentleman had a stereo in the back of his truck playing the theme from 'Chariots of Fire'. As we passed he remarked that the next time we heard the song we would be almost home.

Leaving the asphalt, the path quickly narrowed and then became single file. I began to alternate running and walking, following the lead of the runners ahead of me. It was rather slow going but even at this pace the effort was significant. I kept checking my watch; first mile was 9:00, next few were between 12:00 and 15:00. This felt like a good pace and the miles began to tick by.

Once above No Name Creek, the trail flattened out some and became wide enough to easily pass. This was definitely the easiest section; I took advantage and picked up the pace a bit. I cruised through Bob's Road and Barr Camp aid stations, taking in mostly Gatorade and water along with handfuls of random snacks. Checking my watch I was still averaging well under 15:00 minute miles and I briefly contemplated the idea of a sub 6 hour finish. And then reality set in.

At about 9 miles (~11000') my stomach started to go south and my head began to throb until I thought it was going to explode. It was better when I slowed down and so I did. Running turned into a run-walk, then a fast walk, then a slower walk. Whatever was necessary just to keep moving forward. I'm sorry to say there was absolutely no running in the last two miles to the summit. Around this time runners who had already made the turn began to fly by on their way back to town. I couldn't believe how quickly they were moving down the trail.

At some point, spectators and volunteers began to appear on the rocks along the trail. I remember clearly a volunteer saying, 'welcome to the 16 Golden Stairs'. More like 16 switchbacks! The last mile was something like 28:00 and I hit the turn around in 3:51:00. Still under my original goal of 4 hours but I was a bit disappointed I had slowed down so much in the last few miles. I think I was really feeling the altitude because I got a bit emotional about reaching the top. I remember thinking it was silly because I still had so far left to go.

A few family members were there and I yelled to them my revised estimated finishing time of 'one-thirty'. I yelled it several times until they gave me the thumbs up and then I was gone. I didn't want to spend another minute on the top of that mountain. Unbeknownst to me one-thirty had somehow been interpreted as an hour and a half. This immediately spread via text to friends and family who now rushed to get ready at the finish for my unexpectedly early arrival. I'm glad my family has such faith in me but an hour and a half would have put me in the top five times for the descent. Needless to say they would spend quite a while at the finish looking for me and wondering what happened.
 

Back on the top of the mountain I eagerly attempted to pick up the pace, figuring I would make up some of the time I felt like I'd given away. Unfortunately, it's true what they say; the descent is definitely not free. Mostly I struggled with nausea but my head was pounding and the stream of runners still ascending also clogged the trail. I got passed by a good number of people in this section which made it clear that I was missing the opportunity to gain time. I tried but each time my stomach would revolt. So I continued to churn out 15:00 miles, going downhill! All the while regretting telling my family I would be earlier than expected.

As I approached A-Frame aid station and 10 miles to go, I decided to eat a caffeinated gel. I've found in other long races that a little caffeine actually seems to settle my stomach. I was hoping it would do the trick this time, otherwise this was going to be a very long descent. A mile beyond A-Frame and I started to feel worlds better. The decreasing altitude probably contributed but regardless, I took advantage and started to descend like I knew I could. 15 minute miles became 12 minutes and then 10. I began to claw back the time I felt I'd lost.

It was around this time that I neglected to pick up my foot to clear a root and did a complete wipe-out. Although it was a warm day and I'm generally a warm runner, I had refused to remove my light gloves knowing that they might save me if I did indeed take a fall. Now, that decision really paid off. I caught myself fully on both hands and only lightly scraped my left leg. My palms began to sting almost immediately but I figured there wasn't much point in checking the damage so I didn't bother to look. Instead I dusted myself off and set out again, quickly recovering my previous pace with the aid of some added adrenaline. I ended up covering the last six miles in 51 minutes. Quite an unusual experience to run such a long race and feel stronger and stronger as you approach the finish.

True to his word, 'Chariots of Fire' was still blaring as I hit the asphalt and really started to pour on the speed. I finished up with a 6:56 last mile and nearly ran right into the medical tent. I immediately had the overwhelming urge to vomit and was hovering over the nearest trash can until a volunteer said if I didn't need medical I needed to make room for those that did.

It looked like a MASH unit in there. I recognized a woman I'd seen earlier in the race lying down with blood all over her shirt. It was at this point I remembered my own fall. I slowly peeled off my gloves to find...not a scratch; gloves had worked like a charm.

I made up enough time on lower section to finish in 6:20:25; 198th overall and 10 minutes faster than I was hoping for. Due to the mix up at the summit everyone else was expecting me almost an hour earlier but thankfully they stuck it out and it was amazing to have so much support waiting for me at the finish. Not sure what's after this. Nothing much on my calendar other than a local cross country series this fall. No doubt I'll be looking for another challenge before long. I'm excited to see where running will take me next.

NJ Ultra Festival 100 Miles

Could I run 100 miles?

This was a thought that began to take shape as I ran the 100k at the 2011 NJ Ultra Festival. At the time I was only a few months removed from my first marathon. But sharing the same course with the 100 mile runners got me to thinking maybe I could finish 100 miles as well.

Throughout 2011 I trained hard and ran a pair of fall marathons but then slacked through the holidays before finally pulling the trigger and registering for the 100 mile event before the price increase on Jan 1^st. That left me a scant 13 weeks to build from my marathon base.

I drew up what felt like a very aggressive training plan culminating in three consecutive 50+ mile weekends. During my final long run, three weeks out, I developed a sharp pain in my calf. This was on top of several nagging foot and shin pains which made me think I was right on the edge of injury. Basically I felt like I had done as many miles as my body would allow and if it wasn’t enough at least I wouldn’t have any regrets about not training more. With a few weeks of easy running I was feeling 100% going into race weekend.

The week before the race was pretty hectic so I planned to pick up my bib on Saturday before the 7:00 start. I figured I would have plenty of time; the race was only about an hour away so I set my alarm for 4:30. At least I thought I set the alarm. I had never been late to a race in my life. But at 6:15 my father, who had driven in from out of state, called me. The conversation went something like this:

Dad: Where are you? I found the start building but I don’t see you.

Me: Um, I’m still at home. What the hell happened? See if you can pick up my bid! Tell them I’ll be late and can I still start.

A few minutes later he confirmed the super cool RD said I was still good to start and they would just clock me with the rest of the field at 7:00. By 8:15 I was in the parking lot pinning on my bid and ready to get to work.

The 2012 Ultra Festival had a variety of distances, marathon, 50k, 50 mile, 100k, 100 mile all taking place on the same 10 mile course in and around the Sussex County Fair Grounds. The route consisted of an initial loop along a paved service road. Then two out and back legs on a trail that followed an old gas line. The trail was pretty soft even with the dry winter; there were a few muddy sections and a flooded area that required stepping on rocks to avoid the standing water. Forecast was for a high around 60F with a low in the 40s and possibly rain overnight.

As I hit the first trail section I began to pass runners going the other direction. A friend from work was running the 50k and it wasn’t long before we crossed paths. I estimated he was a few miles ahead of me and I made the questionable decision to see if I could catch up so we could run together.

My goal for the race was first and foremost to finish. But I figured barring injury I could probably run between 20 and 24 hours, well under the 29 hour time limit even starting an hour late. But trying to catch a 50k runner caused me to put in several 8-9 minute miles, much faster than the 11-12 minutes I was planning for the first half of the race.

I eventually caught and unknowingly passed my friend around mile 15. He flagged me down at the next aid station and from then on we ran a very easy pace as the miles seemed to float by unnoticed. I went through 25 miles in 4.5 hours (about 5.5 hours official time) which I knew was wholly unsustainable. But I was feeling great and figured I would put in as many good miles as I could while I still had fresh legs.

After three laps my friend was done with his 50k and he wished me luck on the rest of my race. I was expecting a bit of a letdown with my running partner departed but it wasn't bad. Because of the out and back nature of the course I was able to see my father four times on each lap. That plus the incredible volunteers at the aid stations meant I was never more than 30 minutes without an emotional lift.

I finished 50 miles in about 10 hours and still felt pretty good; a few minor aches and pains and a hot spot on my left heel but nothing serious. But by 60 miles my stomach was not feeling so great. I was carrying a quart bottle of Heed and grazing liberally at each aid station but now I was feeling pretty sick to my stomach. A bathroom break and sitting down to drain my heal / change socks didn’t help much. I went through 100k almost an hour faster than last year but the stomach problems were definitely taking a toll on my pace.

It was full on dark at this point and my spirits were pretty low. Quite depressed as I felt strong but every time I tried to pick up the pace a wave of nausea would hit me. I did a lot of walking on that seventh lap, my slowest 10 miles of the entire race, but I knew if I could just get the distance down to less than a marathon I would finish. 26 miles was a distance I could easily wrap my head around as I would finally be in familiar territory.

Eventually, the stomach issues eased. I started drinking ginger ale at every aid station. I’m not sure if that helped but it didn’t seem to make it any worse. I was able to do a lot more running on lap eight finishing almost 30 minutes faster than I had the previous 10 miles. But now that my stomach was under control I started to fade physically. My running pace became my walking pace and my walking pace felt like a crawl. I forced myself to keep running a fair amount. Each time my legs would respond but without much speed.

On lap nine I finally fell off the rocks into the water hazard. This was an area I had skipped across earlier in the day but now I felt like I had as much coordination as if I was drunk. Luckily the water was all of a few inches deep and resulted only in soaked feet. At that point I couldn’t have cared less.

Crossing over the timing mat to begin my last lap I confirmed the 24 hour speedster deadline, I had almost 3.5 hours. I could probably walk the entire thing and still make it. But I wanted to run. I wanted it to be over. When I reached the trail section I noticed I was having trouble making out the rocks along the route. At first I panicked thinking my headlight was going out. But then I realized it was my eyes that were having trouble focusing. I took more care but continued to shuffle along as quickly as possible.

As I approached the last mile I decided I was going to start running and not stop until I crossed the finish line. That last mile took 14 minutes including an all-out sprint for the final few hundred feet. As I flopped down onto the nearest chair at the finish several people crowded around asking what I wanted, could they get me anything? The question seemed hilarious because all I wanted was to sit.

My official time was 23:18 and 22:04 by my watch. Not sure if or when I’ll attempt another 100 miles but it was definitely an amazing experience.