Last year’s running of the Quad Rock
25 set the challenge:
beat my personal mark by 20 minutes today, and beat the median men’s time. The
homework began in December when I started tracking everything that went into my
mouth, resulting in a 5-pound weight loss over the next 5 months. The day
before the race, I intentionally avoided carbing up, taking in just 2200 calories
of non-fiber.
I was
like a child on Christmas Eve, going to bed late and rousing at 2:30 a.m. I had a normal breakfast and abstained from
eating until an hour into the race to keep my GI tract in check (it worked). I parked at the Timber trailhead at 4:30 a.m. in Lory State Park and
wandered in the dark to pick up my bib where race director Pete Stevenson
greeted me and Mary Boyts offered some coffee. Some of these cheerful
volunteers must've been up most of the night finalizing the preparations for this
superb trail race, in its second year with almost 300 participants in either
the 25 mile or the showcase 50-mile event. The 25-mile loop contains 6,000
vertical feet through ponderosa pines, mountain mahogany and some steep rocky
canyons, with an average slope of ~8.2%.
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| What was in store for me at mile 9 ... |
Fire swept through the
lowest regions of the course just a couple of months ago, and then snow
blanketed the steeper parts several times in recent weeks, with a light
covering just a couple of days before the race. But at sunrise on race morning,
conditions were perfect: 49 degrees, no mud except in spots, an early start and
a crowd assembled to conquer our own challenging objectives in unison. If I
could stick with my race strategy of relaxing and going at my own sustainable
pace, then I could meet my goal time for each aid station, which I'd written on
a cheat sheet.
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| At around mile 18 . . . (photo: Erin Bibeau Photography) |
At the 5:35 a.m. start
we all ascended the road and had some space to string out for a couple of miles before hitting the trails, which several people
liked better than last year’s conga line.
One of the joys of a long race like this is visiting with fellow racers for
snippets of conversation, like the one I had with a friendly guy from overseas
who was here “on holiday.” He said it had taken him only 3 or 4 days to adjust
to the time change. When he asked if there were just 3 climbs as the course
profile graph shows, I had to say, “Well, not exactly” without sounding too
intimidating. Passing the Arthurs aid station we descended along an easy trail
and I told him that this would be as smooth as it gets all day. Even though he'd never been here, he ended up beating almost everyone.
I fell in behind Scott
Slusher for a while, who I had to harass for stopping to hug a volunteer. As we
turned uphill for the first steep climb on Sawmill trail he shifted to his
trademark climbing gear and disappeared. I was able to keep climbing in a
shuffle for a while, reaching Towers and then the Towers aid station in just 83
minutes after the start. There was a good bit of see-sawing with other runners
where I would pass them on the flats and descents and they would pass me on the
ascents. I tried to always at least wave or grunt every time we passed each
other.
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| The start and finish by Horsetooth Reservoir |
A new tactic of mine
this year was to spend less than 2 minutes at each aid station, and I succeeded
at every one. One thing that never changes is music in my
head. I don’t know if other people are like this, but every time I run a race a
song gets stuck in replay mode. Today it was “Every Good Thing” by The Afters with
its upbeat, emphatic tempo. It felt like every step, hard or easy, was an
expression of praise for the capacity to do this. My “theme verse” was the very
first thing I happened to read this morning in Luke: “…they should always pray
and not give up.” Perfect timing for
a race.
But physics and the odds
caught up with me on the enjoyable cruise down Spring Creek trail. My
right toe caught a rock, and in mid-air I realized I wasn’t going to recover
from this one, so when my left knee landed I instantly let momentum roll me a
couple of times over the rocks. This was the first wipeout I’ve had in a long
time, skinning my legs and elbows and ripping the straps off my handheld
bottle. I stood and walked for a minute to reboot; no joints or vitals were
hurt, so all systems were a go. Blood streaks mixed with dirt to show a rugged
blood-mud that I left on for the rest of the day. It made a great conversation
starter.
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| Hmm, these little owies looked gnarly before the blood was washed off. |
Mike Enger of Runner’s
Roost was stationed at the intersection of Spring Creek and Soderberg to direct
runners on the right path. He shouted out my name when he saw me and I
high-fived him for standing out in the sunless canyon bottom where the cold air
settles this early in the morning.
At the Horsetooth
Trailhead aid station, Rob Erskine (his photos of the course are here) filled my water bottles and I was gone. Power-hiking up
the steepest parts of the trail back toward Towers, I visited with a few of the
50-mile racers. I still cannot fathom how they can complete 50 miles and 12,000
vertical feet in fewer than 13 hours (the winner would eventually do it in
about 8 hours). Some said it’s a matter of tolerating pain for a few more hours
than usual. Another told me her stubbornness is the attribute that carries her
through. Whatever the reason, they’re a different breed who’ve discovered that
exceptional nexus of genes, desire and topography.
The
people who staffed the Towers aid station rang the cowbells and welcomed us
with offers of sustenance, and one observant volunteer asked several questions
about my bloody leg and if I’d hit my head. I joked that someone should take a
photo, and when I turned around from grabbing some potato chips he was there
with a camera. All of the staffers did more than just their job--they were
genuinely having a good time, which rubbed off on the runners.
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| (photo: Erin Bibeau Photography) |
At
about mile 16 down Mill Creek I began sensing an energy drop. This rarely
happens to me on descents. Maybe it was because I hadn’t ran on trails for more
than 3 hours at a time this spring, but it was more likely due to the lack of
calorie intake and hydration. The drop never went away for the rest of the
race, and I realize now that I should’ve taken some extra time at the aid stations
to drink and eat more. My body requires a lot more water once the temperature
rises above 50 degrees and my 190+ pound frame needs at least 300 calories per
hour while trail running, which I realized after the race that I wasn’t
getting. The only fuel I carried was 7 ounces of gel/EFS mix and a handful of
snackfood at each aid station. This would eventually cost me at least 10
minutes in my finish time.
Mindy
Clarke came strolling down the trail in a tutu, like a roving cheerleader, near
the Horsetooth/Lory border to help a debilitated runner down the trail, but she saw my leg and
paused to ask about it and took a photo. At the Arthurs aid I grabbed half a
banana and started hiking up again, probably the toughest climb of the day up
the Timber trail. On this section I went a little slower than last year; every
time I tried to run an uphill section something would start to cramp so I had
to back off to a power hike. I was also trying to save some energy to bomb down
the last 3 miles of the race. I stuck with a 50-mile guy who was fighting off
cramps too. I told him that if he finished this race it would be a lifetime
achievement. (Later on, I saw him heading back up for the second loop of the 50
mile race and we waved--it thrilled me to see him healthy again.) We had fun
guessing when we’d see the 50-mile leader heading in our direction. I was so
happy to see the water coolers propped up at the Westridge/Timber intersection
because I’d already drank 20 ounces in the past half hour and needed a refill
to make it to the finish.
I
usually fly down Timber trail but today I could only manage an 8:45 pace. I
told myself that if this is as fast as I can go, then just keep it steady and
I’ll be good. And then I took another digger! This time I didn’t have to roll
but ended up with some gravel embedded in my palm--some souvenirs to take home
and pry out later. I felt like a dork but then again it happens to everyone. I
continued on, targeting a few runners in front of me in the last couple of
miles to drop, which I did (they were probably 50-milers with more than halfway
to go, so I can’t get too prideful). The faster 50-milers had already turned
around at the finish and were heading back up the mountain in my direction, so
I applauded for every one as we passed each other and called out the names of
fellow FCTRs (Ryan, Sam, Mike, Nick D., Eric, Alex, Kristel, Cat, etc.) even if
they didn’t know me. Past the Timber parking lot, a volunteer pointing runners
on where to turn saw my leg and said, “You’re my hero!”
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| Results of the second spill of the day. |
And
then, I crossed the finish in 5:25, which was 16 minutes faster than last year.
The course this year is at least a quarter-mile longer than last year depending
on whom you talk to (my Garmin 10 said 25.8), so comparing apples to apples, I
indeed reached my goal of beating my personal mark by 20 minutes. My weight
loss and much shorter pitstops were the biggest factors, aside from staying
fit. But I could’ve done a lot better had I followed my own race plan to eat
100 calories every 20 minutes.
According
to my GPS data, I beat last year’s time for the first 10 miles by 12
minutes--but fell back 10 minutes in the last 10 miles of the race! During the
last hour I was barely fighting off cramps with S-caps, and I even had a cramp
in my right brachioradialis (below the bicep) from carrying the water bottle,
which is really weird. Grabbing a handful of chips at the aid stations and
sucking down just one bottle of EFS during the entire race just ain’t enough to
go fast. I got too carried away in the excitement to force myself to keep
fueling. Rookie error.
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| Finish line |
I
still had the post-race vigor to hang out and visit with faster guys a few
years younger than me like Mike Rubsam and Jeff French. Rain and sunshine took
turns during lunch and Nick handed out awards. A couple of people approached me
and said they saw my wipeout from behind me but were insulted when I passed
them later. … We had a good laugh. I got a lot of mileage out of a little
digger and even gave the EMTs something to do. I probably fell because I
violated etiquette by wearing the 2013 Quad Rock tech shirt on race day. Guess
I had to find out for myself.
I
thoroughly enjoyed witnessing other 25-milers crossing the finish line to
flowers, children and hugs. To see people of various backgrounds accomplish a
difficult feat and celebrate it with others is greatly uplifting. Several other blogs detail this race, but I want to add that the way it was
conducted, and the supportive, positive atmosphere, was a nuclear boost. For me,
this break in the workweek rat race to achieve a clear victory over
adversity--with everyone supporting each other while competing--is a blessing
and a vibrant affirmation. What a special day!
Other stats:
- Goal: Beat last year’s time of 5:41. Result:
5:25.
- Goal: Beat the median men’s time of 5:27. Result:
Nailed it with 2 minutes to spare.
- Number
of runners younger than me: 147. I’m older than 86% of the field.
- Number
of runners older than me: 28. Humbling.
- Median
age: 37 (12 years younger than me).
- Placement:
73rd out of 176. Lots of tough competition today.
Thanks to Nick, Pete, and everyone
else who made this a blue ribbon event!
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| Near Arthurs aid. Photo by Mindy Clarke |
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| Someone from New Mexico likes trail running! |
