I decided to not to do the official shakeout run with Dean Karnazes the day before because it started at 7 am and I thought it better to sleep in a bit more two days before since I won’t get that chance the night before the race (race started at 5 am but the last shuttle to the start from the parking lot left at 4:15 am). I did a short shakeout during lunch as I ran to bib pickup and back. I opted to go to work, go home straight afterwards and then sleep early. I figured if I slept at 8 pm, I could get almost 6 hours of sleep before waking up, set my bag and then make it to the shuttle bus to the start. I ended up going to sleep at 8:40 and got about 5 hours of sleep.
Things in the morning were going well till I realized I didn’t wash my QDR singlet from the Leatherman’s loop six days ago. I had left it in a bag in my car and it had skipped my usual laundry run. I didn’t have another tried and true racing shirt or singlet so I quickly put it into the washer on quick wash mode and then got in the dryer for 10ish minutes. I decided to just go with it and hang it in the car. A few minutes later, in the car I decided I should just wear it and let my body heat dry it out. Another lesson! Always pack your things beforehand. Making things a bit more complicated was my strategy of carrying water and gels via three methods for the race. With two drops bag points that I would hit at miles 23, 29, and 41 (you do hit the first bag drop point at mile 4 but that’s really too soon for anything) I would use my Ultimate Direction North racing vest (with the GPS/cell phone cover removed) till mile 23. Then I would drop the vest into my drop bag, grab some gels and a 16 oz. hand bottle for the next 6 mile loop which ends back at the same mile 23 bag drop. Next I would drop the bottle and get the vest back for the next 12 miles. At mile 41 I would once again drop the vest and use my hip belt that carries a 16 oz. bottle on the back for the last 9 miles. Why a hip belt the last 9 miles? Well once of the ascents on the last 9 miles is technical enough to need my hand to go up so I wanted two hands for that. The hip belt gets put on like a pair of shorts so it would a bit uncomfortable to put on after 41 miles on the leg but I figured it’ll be worth having the hands free for that one section of the climb. Fog hit sections of the drive up limiting my vision to just about half a block ahead of me to causing the drive to be slightly more stressful than normal.
Made it at 3:53 to the Anthony Wayne parking lot and got a shuttle bus to Bear Mountain around 4 am. I pulled out my drop bag tabs and attached them during the ride. At Bear Mountain I continued setting my drop bags, I grabbed a three of the huckleberry favored gels and put them in the drop bag going to camp Lanowa (mile 23, 29). Next was a porter potty bathroom visit, then drop the other two bags (one was a change of clothes that stayed at the finish). I went to bathroom again, I think more so of nerves, nothing came out. I met Ami briefly who was also doing the 50 miler. Among the chatter of the people I noticed a few West Point students and Canadians. The announcer at the start said some deep things - how millennials of star dusk lead us to be here today at this point to accomplish our destinies. I was in wave 3 and the waves went off just a minute after each other so it was pretty quick start. Instead of the 7 am start in California, the 5 am start required the use of a headlamp for the first half hour or so.
Hold
Knowing I went
out too fast in Lake Sonoma I decided to start off slower this
time. With 3 miles of gradual uphill right away, I didn’t set a pace
goal but rather went with effort level. Placement going into single
track is usually important in trail races but I did a preview of the first 7.5
miles a week after Sonoma where I decided I should make a move on the road
portion of seven lakes drive and along the preceding wide ski trail 6 miles in
if I still felt like I was moving too slow. The race quickly got
congested and I was aghast that people were trying to avoid mud. It’s
spring in NY, there’s going to be mud. I ended up walking a bit more
than I wanted to due to the congestion. Perhaps I should have tried
to out faster? Still had plenty of miles
for placement though. Ami who started a
wave behind me caught up for a brief moment and then lost her. She
did a 20 mile run two weeks ago at a good pace so I thought she would probably
pass me at some point. She was probably being extra cautious, it
being her first 50 miler and all. I
started out with my Queen’s marathon beanie but it soon got too hot so I
removed it. The headlamp on my bare forehead didn’t feel as
comfortable but I knew it was only for a few minutes longer. I
continued up conga line till the first aid station at Anthony
Wayne. I blew past this first aid station. Runners seemed to have crowded up here for some reason. The next part was a short technical single track where it would be difficult to pass people so I would think people would want to keep moving. You had the option of dropping off your headlamp at this aid station so maybe that’s what people did. I simply packed it into my vest, along with the Queens Marathon beanie. Other than those two, my pack only had gels and water. I did a training run 2 weeks before and I knew exactly how this section of trail curved and moved. This was a bit surprising to me, since trails in the same area kind do tend to look the same and I only been in this area a couple of times over the last few years. I moved well in this section and soon we popped into seven lakes drive and started a short road section south. I didn’t however move well on the road and many pasted me here. This not moving well on the road would be a constant theme of the day. We soon merged left into the silver mines ski trail where immediately we were greeted with mud. For the most part, I would go straight through the mud, knowing that there will be mud spots later on and I didn’t want to waste precious energy avoiding them now. I continued pacing myself, it had spread out quite nicely but no real groups yet. I continued my strategy of jogging the uphill’s but with more room I started running down hard. My quads didn’t get sore from 10,500 feet of loss that Lake Sonoma had so I wasn’t worried at all about them here (less than 7,000 feet of loss). Bear Mountain descends were steeper so you moved faster downhill with gravity’s help anyway so it made sense to not hold back. This was more to my liking, perhaps because it’s more familiar.
Learning from Lake Sonoma that a gel every 30 minutes wasn’t enough I decided to eat a gel every 25 minutes. I started off with 6 gels and would restock in the hammer gels the race provides. I would always leave an aid station with at least 4 gels on me. Unlike Lake Sonoma, aid stations here were more frequent, most were 4ish miles apart. As I passed by Silver Mine Lake I recalled looking at the lake for the first time 4 years ago. Back then, I saw pockets of steam rising from the lake. It was incredible beautify with the sun rising in the background. Today it was cloudy and I saw no such effect. The route climbs out of the ski trail to a single track climb. I hiked most of it up. It then descents quickly to the Silver Mine aid station at mile 8.7. I grabbed a few chips, ate a small piece of white potato and refilled my 8 oz. bottle with water (I carried a 16 oz. bottle and a 8 oz. bottle in the front of my vest with a backup 8 oz. in the back). I stuck to drinking only water the first 35 miles.
Steady
Out of the aid station, the trail starts fairly easy. Somehow, I still trip over a small rock on a turn which causes the runner in front of me to ask if I am okay. I reply that I’m grateful for the toe guards that trail shoes have. We soon merges with the long path and the trail gets technical. While there are no great mountain ascents, the trail is still fairly rocky. On a steep technical descent that a runner in front of me struggles with, I decide to pass her by going off to the side and end up slipping, landing on my butt. I get up immediately with no pain which helps relieve any fear I had of future descents (I know I can’t get hurt, even if I fall). I occasional hit rocks but the toe guards on my trail shoes protect my feet. Each hit though wakes me up and I start paying attention more. Groups start to form but I’m not interested. I don’t allow anyone to pace me. The ascents, descents, and the rock hopping of technical terrain makes it difficult to pace with effort levels. I often slowed down on the flat, non-rocky terrain to check myself and my effort level. During these straight stretches I often fall behind the group. Then over descents and technical terrain I easily catch up. It’s way too early to start attacking anything and I don’t want to make any extra effort to keep up with anyone. Eventually I end up leading the group.
At the aid station I stick to my strategy of switching water carrying methods to the handle held bottle. My bib number 10 gets me an upfront placement of my drop bag and I am able to get everything I need quickly (though I do see how having a crew could turn my 2 minutes at the aid station to 20-30 seconds). Despite having gels in the drop bag I grab a few from the aid station in case they run out on my return. The route goes on an uphill where a group of West Point College kids past me. I past Veronica as well. A man with an English accent catches up to me and I offer to let him pass. He declines saying we are going about the same speed. He asks about the flag on the back of my singlet and I replied that it was the flag of Queens County. He was happy to have learned something new on the trails. This reminded me of a 50 miler in Arizona where a man name Jeff taught me all the plants around while we ran together. The trail turns into a wide gravel fire tower roads. I yo-yo with a college age looking kid. Every time I passed him I would say the typical trail running encourage thing. “Good job”, “nice work”, etc. On the third one he thanked me and said I was helping him which made me feel good. On a flooded section, I dashed straight across while the English accent man goes to the side to avoid. He jokes about alligators in the swamp. I remark that I’m happy there were no rocks in it (looking at you Lake Sonoma). He soon passes me and catches up to another man. He probably started talking to him as the man looked like he was struggling and then all of a sudden got super powered when they started running together. I slowly fell behind them. This section is 6 miles long but the easy of the gravel trail makes it short time wise. Back on the road heading to back to Camp Lanowa I get passed by Veronica and the college age looking kid I was going back and forth with. I got my bib marked by a woman who recognized the singlet. She mentioned that she thinks her cousin was part of the team, Valerie Lores, to which I responded that yes, I know her!
Fire!
Back to the racing vest. In my rush in the morning I forgot to pack my anti-fatigue pills into my racing vest and had left them at this drop bag. I made sure to pick those up but I forgot to empty out the headlamp and my beanie from my vest. I loaded up on potatoes and once again felt full. I would skip my next two gels, opting to take the anti-fatigue pills instead. The North Face Endurance Challenge races allows pacers for their 50 milers. Pacers here are different than pacers in road races. A pacer in an ultra joins a specific runner in the latter part of their race. In this race, a pacer could join either at mile 29 and/or mile 41. So you could have one pacer run 12 miles with you, then have another run the last 9 with you, have one pacer run 21 miles with you or simply have a pacer run the last 9 miles with you. Veronica got her pacer and mentioned that her legs feel fine but she just went out too fast. They then charged on ahead. Pacers are definitely a huge advantage in races. The trail now went onto old fire roads. Wide but muddy at many spots. I tried catching up to Veronica and the group around her. I was starting to feel tired and would have liked to at least be around people. My shoelace got untied twice on my left foot and by the second time I went to fix it, I lost sight of everyone. Alone, the pain started creeping in but I welcomed it. I knew I would start hurting at mile 30 something. Learning to beat the pain is what I came for. I rallied in my mind thinking about it. I told myself that this is what I came for, that I today I say no to the god of death. The announcer words about this being my destiny rang in my head. I was able to keep my effort level high.
Soon I met another runner, Adam who grew up in Westchester and now resides in Manhattan. When I asked about what inspired him he said he heard about ultras back when he was in college and decided that he would do one day when he got older. He then turned thirty and decided it had to be soon. He did the Bear Mountain trail marathon 2 years ago, the 50k last year and is now the 50 miler. On a downhill I decide to go down fast and Adam gets stuck behind someone. On the following road section Adam catches up again. I feel that he could go faster but he decides to stick around and talk. It’s his first 50 and he is being cautious. I walk a bit and then use the cones marking the course as points to start jogging between. Back into the trails I continue talking with Adam, we talk about triathlons, my goal race of UTMB, the difficultly of training on trails in the city. I asked if he was part of any running club or team and he said he had odd hours making it difficult to run with others. I briefly talk about my 100 miler and he says he can’t imagine doing it but he likes the idea of doing a hundred. Talking makes the miles click away. On a descent I lose him a bit but I keep an eye out to see out hoping he catches up.
I make it to Tiorati aid station, here 4 years ago is where I got revived thanks to the encouragement of the volunteers. Back then, by the time I arrived they had ran out of water. A volunteer has some in his car and ran to get me some. There was no real food left, just cliff gels and I got my pack filled with ice while I waited for the water. I was advised not to drink too much and to book the next 10k to make the cutoff. They told me that I could make it and that I could even see the Pacquiao vs Mayflower fight later at night.
As I finish stocking up in the present, I see Adam pass by, not stopping at all. I pass a man with tattoos on both his arms. We been going back and forth for miles and we will continue for a quite few more. The trail is rolling hills and I make it to the next aid station, Owl Swamp. The aid station looks different but when I reached here 4 years ago, they were already packing. Back then, I asked how I was doing on time and the man looked at his watched and asked if I really wanted to know. The women tells me to run what’s runnable. I immediately start sprinting uphill before she yells out her statement. I realize that I should hike technical uphill, that being desperate doesn’t mean being stupid.
Past the aid station in the present, the trail goes uphill a bit and then has a long downhill descent. The downhill helps I gain momentum and I realize that I can’t stop, I have to keep using the momentum I am getting from the downhill. I ran through the muddy, swampy area harder than ever, passing many people. The trail merges with the 50k and marathon route. I thought merging with these runners would be a boost since I could say hi to more people but the ones I started catching were struggling, death walking marathoners. I try to say encouraging words but most don’t respond, clearly they are beyond their element. Near the end of the long descent is a short uphill and I complain to some 50k runners about it. I could see the Palisades Parkway on the side and I know I am close to Anthony Wayne parking lot. I’m close to the mile 41 aid station. I kept thinking in my head that even if I walk the last 7 miles it won’t be so bad. Here I was running strong to mile 41.
You can’t outrun death
At the aid station, I struggled a bit to find my drop bag, not as neatly organized as Camp Lanowa. Once found, I stick to my plan - drop the vest and put on my hip belt. I refueled my bottle with heed, stocked up on gel and ate some more potatoes. There is a road section, maybe a quarter mile long before it merges with a mountain bike trail. I’m very familiar with this area as I hiked and trained here quite a few times. However shortly after I leave the aid station, I find that I could barely move my legs. I can’t even walk at a normal pace. I’m shocked at the betrayal of my body. My mind quickly enters into a negative headspace. UTMB now seems impossible. I can’t even do 41 miles, how am I going to do one of the hardest 100 milers in the world? In Europe, with over 4x the elevation gain of this race? I decide that I should stick to marathons and 50ks; that I’ll quit after this. Anthony Wayne is the parking lot where I parked my car and I think of how great it would be if I could jump in my car and just sleep (I didn’t have my car keys however). I strongly thought about turning around and heading back to the aid station to DNF. I tell myself that I didn’t have anything left to prove, that I already did 50 miles plenty of times; that it would be okay to DNF. Even with those thoughts swarming in my head, I guess I was too stubborn, I continued forward. In my quarter mile zombie walk, 9 people walked pasted by. Three told me that I could comfortably hike the rest of the 9 miles and finish the race. Yea, that’s really what I want to hear.
When I finally made it to the trail, I slowly found some movement in my legs. Soon I am able to run downhill's and jog the flats. As I gained momentum I realize that my legs had gotten stiff; I had probably spent too much time at the last aid station standing around. With this knowledge I decided that I would keep moving the rest of the race. I hiked up the technical bald face climb, the same climb which lead to my decision of using the hip belt over another handheld. On the steep descent that followed I told a runner about how what I just learned…that continuing to move is critical at this stage. Soon I pasted by two Achilles guides guiding a runner for the 50k. One of the women recognized my QDR singlet and asked if I knew Kevin and Jeff Munoz to which I said yes. They were trying to get their runner to start running. I wished I could stayed a bit longer to chat but I knew I had to keep moving. I was trying to outrun the death of my legs. A little past I saw a ranger that was coming to help a blinder runner. I guess to help out the Achilles group. I didn’t realize at that point but running blind in this kind of terrain is simply amazing. I would imagine Rock the Ridge type of gravel road “trails” to be better suited. Perhaps even the Greenbelt 50k or the road 50k championships in Long Island. Pretty amazing. I soon pasted the runner with the arm tattoos, for like the fourth time. I also encouraged him to keep moving.
At the next aid station I refilled my bottle with heed. I was slightly annoyed that I had to refill from the Gatorade jug instead of a gallon bottle which would have been faster. I was racing against my body’s clock. If I linger too long, I knew that my legs would get stiff again. 4 years ago I was here stuffing my face with M&Ms and taking my time through the aid station. A volunteer advised me to not spend too much time. I didn’t understand at first but shortly after I learned why. My legs stiffen up back then as well and it took quite a while to get them back.
Now here I was, refilled my bottle while doing toe ups, toe taps to keep my legs moving. I rushed out of the aid station and almost forgot to thank the volunteers. As I moved on, I started hitting an emotional high. It was probably the strongest feeling I had during a run in a long time. The pain from my body simply disappeared. The stiffness, soreness, even mental tiredness of being awake since 1:40 am slowly faded gone. All doubt disappeared too. There simply wasn’t any room for anything but running now. The trigger felt like it was purely emotional. I held back tears. I hit many highs after low points over the years but this felt completely new. With my refreshed body I started running like the race just started. To sort of explain how strong this state was, I caught up to and passed people at miles 46-49 that passed me at mile 30.
I met a man, one of whom tried to encourage me on back when I was zombie walking. He commented that I got a second wind and I joked that I was back from the dead. I then proceed to run the steep and long uphill up Timp’s pass. The descent was very rocky and I was slightly upset that I couldn’t take full advantage of the downhills as I had to careful with my steps. A runner commented that she would rather go up that rocky section seven times than descend it. As I continued along on single track, some people had to step off the trail to let me pass. I cried at the realization of how painful it must be to stop your momentum, even if you are just walking, to let me pass. I started breathing harder, maybe going more into animal mode but after a mile or so I calmed down. The pain never returned. I caught up to a man I haven’t seen since mile 20. He commented that this was his 5th Bear Mountain and he keeps coming back to it despite all the pain he feels now. He also had a high a little bit ago but it weaned out. He was running strong and we ran side to side. Eventually He went over to the side when the trail narrowed to allow me to past. I wasn’t planning on speeding up but I decided to not waste his efforts to allow me to past. I ran faster. He encouraged me to continue to ride the unicorn. I caught up to Veronica and her pacer, still going strong and told her she was killing it. Like the first aid station of the race, I blew through the last one. I immediately thanked the volunteers as I went through. I past a bunch others from shorter distances and I tried to encourage them. They said positive things to me as well. I knew I was home and that spurned me on.
Out of the underpass tunnel back to Bear Mountain, two women encouraged me on, yelling QDR. I was only able to read the word “trail” on their gray shirts. Heading towards the finish I got slightly confused on where to go. A women running in front of me made a right and left and I followed. Without her, I was ready to run straight through the parking lot to the finish. (This being said, the race is super well marked and organized, they definitely went all out to make sure you don’t get lost). I managed a final sprint to the finish, around 7:20 minutes a mile pace.
After finishing I saw the runner in front of me use a hand sanitizer which I used as well. Pretty cool that they had it, they also had sun screen and breakfast at the morning, definitely a step above many other races. I grabbed two of my drop bags - the finish line one and the Camp Lawona bag. My Anthony Wayne’s bag did not come in yet. I proceed then to get hammer recovery drink and food. Sadly the only vegetarian option was pasta salad so I got a whole plate of pasta salad with a sprite can. I then sat on a table and slowly started eating. Despite surviving mostly on gels the whole day I didn’t have much of an appetite. I knew food was important however. I talked at the table with a bunch of other finishers. A man talked about the Spartan Ultra beast in Killington being harder despite being 20 miles shorter. Two men, when I mentioned I will be doing UTMB, spoke of the beauty of Chaminix (France, where the race starts and ends). I met a runner from Brooklyn, Nate and we talked quite a bit about triathlons as a gateway drug to ultras, his Bigfoot 200 race coming up and my UTMB race. He is running the Vermont 100 next to continue his build up. I confessed that I been looking at the 200s for quite some time but been too chicken to pull the trigger. Ami soon found me and told me she DNF at mile 35. She couldn’t run anymore and didn’t want to hike the remaining 15 miles. Having DNFed 3 ultras in a row 3 years ago I tried to optimistic about it and told her not to doubt her decision in the future. Nate got joined by his group, a Japanese runner from Harlem and another runner, John, who volunteered as a sweep. I didn’t notice it before but it seems that there are quite a lot of Filipinos in ultras (at least in NY).
In the shuttle bus back I talked with a man from Westchester. He was also doing the Vermont 100 and was impressed that I was doing UTMB. He joked about me taking on Killian to which I replied I’ll bring some bees. We talked a bit about training spots in Westchester - Rockefeller State Park was his favorite. I dropped Ami off in Astoria which was nice since I got someone to talk to on the drive back.
Despite the finishing times of Lake Sonoma and Bear Mountain being quite close, the race experiences were polar opposites. With no out and backs in the course in Bear Mountain I didn’t see any of the front pack. While I always enjoy company, I stuck to my own pace, dictated by my effort level. With better pacing I was able to avoid bonking till mile 41 versus the mile 13 at Sonoma. When that low point finally did hit me though, it hit a lot harder than any of my low points in California. In return, my high was so much stronger and I felt like I finished stronger than 3 weeks ago (it’s hard to compare times between trail races since terrain is a major impact on time). I was able to talk with more people, both during and after the race in New York than California. While the calves did hurt at points during beginning parts of the race, it was the quads that got trashed this time around. Perhaps my calves are finally getting use to zero drop shoes? Or perhaps this indicates the amount of elevation loss is not the only factor to quad soreness, terrain and speed might have been a more important variables. Or perhaps all the hops and jumps that technical terrain demands does a number on the quads as well?
Perhaps the most
important lesson is that I really need to work on my mental game. I should know that low points come and go and
I should stay positive. I really let my
head go in a bad headspace, lucky I wasn’t around others. I heard that misery loves company and that
the negative headspace is contagious. I
need to devise ways to get through aid stations quicker and I’m going to have
to think hard about food. Could I
survive 100 miles on gels?
UTMB, my goal race of the year, seems more daunting for me than ever before though. A little more than 3 months to try to change that.
