Beautiful Day In Bandera

(One of the "Sisters" - Bandera, TX)

“We bring the slow out in people”. I said this to Tony today when he remarked that a friend looked like she was holding back a little on our run in Bandera. True, we don’t blaze down the trail at elite speed, but we have a fun time enjoying the scenery, fostering great friendships, and (sometimes) basking in the beautiful weather. Today was a perfect day to run at Hill Country State Natural Area. Tom, Tony, Tim and myself met at Tiger Mart at 5AM to head out to Bandera to join up with Troy, Jean, and Chris. Tim is new to our group and had never been to Bandera, so we were eager to show him why we love it so much. Unfortunately, a deer got up close and personal with Tim’s car on the drive out (no one was hurt). At least his first Bandera experience will be memorable. The run itself was perfect. We donned our headlamps (Tony forgot his and paid for it with 2 falls) and headed for Lucky’s Peak, hitting daylight at the top. We scurried down and over to Cairn’s Climb, then Boyle’s Bump, and back to the car to refuel. Jean left us here, and the remaining group headed out for a tour of the 3 Sisters. The sun was out under a blue, cloudless sky, but there was a cool breeze blowing, so the death march that often accompanies this trip over the Sisters never materialized. My legs felt pretty good for the first 10+ miles, but I began to feel the effects of having raced 50 miles just 6 days ago. Up and over the Sisters, we headed back to our cars for a celebratory sampling of beers. Days like today remind me why we are so lucky to have a great group of friends and beautiful trails like those in Bandera.

Now I’m headed to Driftwood (outside Austin) for a bluegrass festival. This day just keeps getting better!

Bull Run 50 Race Report

“Let’s try to find you a faster 50 miler this spring”. Those were the words Joe Sulak, friend and coach, said to me after I finished the Bandera 100K in January. Fast and 50 miles should not be used in the same sentence for me, but I started searching online for races that met this criteria (along with my strict “no multiple loop” rule) AND fit into my schedule. The one that stood out from the others was the Bull Run Run, a race that took place just outside Manassas, VA, and home to a famous Civil War battle. The course looked relatively flat (more on this later), it was in early April when the weather should still be cooler in that area, and I had friends in D.C. that I could stay with. So, I put my name in the lottery, ending up on the wait list. A couple weeks before the race, I was notified that I had been moved from the wait list to the entrants list. I was in the Bull Run 50 miler.

The weeks leading up to the race were hectic for me, and I was mentally worn out and very stressed. I just needed to get out of town and onto the trails. I flew to D.C. on my birthday, arriving late at night and checking into a nearby hotel. The weather was cool, with rain in the forecast for much of Friday. After a decent night sleep, I headed into D.C. to drive around and see the sights. That’s when the rain started, light at first, heavy at times. Having seen all you can see by car, I headed to Clifton, VA, a tiny town seemingly in the middle of nowhere, to the race start to pick up my packet and get my first glimpse of the trail. Upon seeing the trailhead, I knew one thing – we were all in for a muddy day on Saturday. The course is essentially 2 out and backs, one that takes you North for 8+ miles and then back to the start (mile 16+), and then another longer out and back to the South. I then drove to nearby Herndon, where a good college friend lived, and where I would be staying for the next 2 nights.

(entrance to the park)

(early section of trail)

After a rather sleepless night (I rarely sleep well the night before a race), I awoke to more rain (it hadn’t stopped since yesterday), but this would soon end. After a quick stop at 7-11 (I wish we had these in San Antonio – SLURPIES!!!), I was soon parking the car in a field near the race start. Going into a big race, I like to mentally set a few goals for myself. The first is usually based on some sort of time I’d like to run, the second something specific that I want to accomplish that day, and the third is always the same – try to smile and have fun. After all, that’s why we run these crazy distances, right? My goals for the Bull Run 50 were:

1. Time (I usually have 3 times, a “fantasy” goal, something I’d still be pleased with, and a fallback time that I would be ok with). Today my goal was to break 10 hours, which I felt was reasonable on this course, assuming it was dry (more on this later too). My “B” goal was to break 11 hours, and my “C” time was to set a PR (previous 50 mile PR was 11:22).

2. This might sound odd, but I really wanted to push myself to the point of finding some pain and suffering. Sometimes this helps me take my mind off of the stresses that I feel. Running 50 miles is going to hurt, so embrace the pain and push through it.

3. Have fun!

Just before the start, the rain ended, but the cool temperatures remained. As it turned out, the weather during the race was perfect for me. I don’t think it ever got above 50 degrees, and the skies were overcast, but no rain. I started in a short-sleeve shirt and arm warmers, with a light long-sleeve top over that, plus gloves. I carried 2 handheld bottles filled with water, and I planned on them lasting me the first 11+ miles of the race. My nutritional strategy was to eat one Hammer gel every 20 minutes until I could no longer stomach gels, then switch to solid foods. I would try to drink one bottle of water (about 20-24 ounces) per hour. At exactly 6:30, we were off. We did one lap around the parking area and then headed onto the Bull Run trail. As in most trail races, it is often difficult to find the right spot to be early on. You don’t want to go out too fast and burn your legs up early, but you also don’t want to get stuck behind a slow pack of runners that keeps you from moving. I found myself somewhere in between. In the first 5-6 miles, we had several stream crossings, and there was almost always a long line of people waiting to use the stepping stones. Once I realized that my feet were going to get soaked even if I used the stones, I joined several others and just waded across the stream itself. The water was often up to my mid-thigh, soaking my legs and getting my shorts wet (this would be a problem later).

The first 7 miles leading to the Centreville Aid Station took us alongside the Bull Run River and were fun to run. Lots of little ups and downs, some great wooded singletrack, and several historic markers denoting Civil War landmarks. Just over 7 miles in, we hit the Centreville Aid Station. Knowing we would be back here in 4.4 miles after hitting the turnaround, I opted not to fill my bottles and headed out. To say this section was muddy would be like saying Bandera is kind of rocky, that Chris is a little friendly, or that Liza is semi fast. The good thing was that the mud didn’t stick to your shoes. It just made running extremely difficult, slowing you down and making you feel like you had run twice the distance. I slipped and slid all over the place, once even going airborne (legs parallel to the ground) and ending up on my side in a huge puddle of mud. It was comical to watch people run, and we all just laughed at the absurdity of the mud and tried to have fun with it, cracking jokes about getting our shoes dirty.

I stopped at the Centreville Aid Station the second time through to fill up my water bottles and dump some trash. It was here that I first noticed a little chafing beginning to bother me. I always run in compression shorts, and I checked to make sure they didn’t have any holes in them. Sure enough, I had a large hole in one leg, so my wet leg was rubbing the seam of the opposite leg. Ouch. I’ll spare you all of the details, but I carried a stick of Body glide with me most of the race and had to stop and re-apply quite often. As I sit here typing this 4 days after the race, my legs feel great but the chafing has me waking like a cowboy who has been in too many rodeos.

Bull Run allows runners to form teams. Each team consists of 4 members and can be made up of any combination of males and females. Since there were only 4 runners entered from Texas, I contacted each of them, and we decide to form a team, “Texas Road Kill”. Running on a team doesn’t change anything about the race in terms of mileage or rules. I mention this because, as I was heading back to the start/finish aid station at Hemlock (mile 16.6), I ran into 2 members of our team, Clive and Jennifer (both from the Dallas area). We ran into the aid station together, but they headed towards the drop bag area while I went straight to the restroom for my now customary 5+ minute bathroom break. After my pit stop, I grabbed a handful of Hammer gels, took 2 fresh water bottles, ditched my long-sleeve top, and headed out for my final 34 miles.

(Approaching Hemlock Aid Station at mile 16.6)

(Leaving Hemlock Aid Station)

Based on my projected splits, I knew I was behind where I had hoped to be, but given all the mud, I was pleased with my run so far. I could have gone a little faster, but the mud really slowed things down for everyone. I continued to feel pretty good and to run at a decent pace for the next 5+ miles. Not too long before the Fountainhead Aid Station (mile 28.1, about 5.5 hours into the race), I began to eat a gel and knew it would be my last of the day. Usually when my stomach decided it has had enough gels, it will instantly let me know. Rather than try to choke down the gel, I switched to Clif Shot Bloks for a change in taste and consistency.

(One of the few dry sections)

After stocking up with more bloks, some peanut butter pretzels, and more water, I left the Fountainhead Aid Station (mile 28.1) on my way to the “Do Loop”. I would be back at Fountainhead in about 10 miles. In almost every ultra race I have done, I seem to have a low point in which I question almost everything from my motivation for running to my life in general. There is something about running 50+ miles that strips me down and cause me to reflect on everything going on in my life, both good and bad. For me, my physical and mental state feed off of each other during a run. When one is high, the other seems to go well. When one drops, the other sinks too. The next 8 miles would mark my lowest point of the race. I can’t pinpoint any one particular issue, more a combination of things. Most of it was mental, as my legs still felt pretty good (chafing was getting really bad by now). I just wasn’t motivated to run anymore. My stomach wasn’t rebelling, but food didn’t sound good. My legs felt ok, but I couldn’t run. Nothing seemed to be working. I put on my iPod in the hopes that some music would help lift me out of my funk, but no such luck. It was somewhere during the 3 mile “Do Loop” that I decided I didn’t care about my pre-race goals. I was probably going to finish near the back of the pack in over 12 hours, and I began to mentally prepare for that. I knew I could walk the rest of the race and still finish, but my “racing” was over. I was mentally fried. A week’s worth of stress and very little sleep had finally caught up to me. Maybe, I thought, I wasn’t cut out for “fast” ultras.

(Coming into Fountainhead at mile 28)

After what seemed like an eternity, I finished the “Do Loop” and stopped at an aid station to fuel up. I ate a couple slices of pb&j, guzzled a little Gatorade, and headed back out. Over the next mile I tried to focus on staying positive and encouraging the runners headed away from me who were about to start their Do Loop. And then it hit me – these people are struggling too. The more people I passed, the more I began to realize that I was still ahead of a lot of runners, and this seemed to lift my spirits. About the same time, one of my favorite songs (“Bolton Stretch” by Yonder Mountain String Band) came on, and I began to run, slowly at first. As I ran, I started to feel better and better. I looked at my watch and did some quick math (I teach Geography, so my math isn’t really “quick”) and realized that I could still beat my previous PR (11:22) if I kept pushing and ran more.

I made a quick stop at Fountainhead to grab some Gu Chomps (thanks Liza for the recommendation of Watermelon!) and more peanut butter pretzels, and I was off, running down the trail and feeling great (well, my chafing still hurt like crazy). The more I ran, the better I felt (mentally and physically). I did some more calculations and saw that I might be able to break 10 hours if I could keep this pace up. The last 10 miles weren’t easy, as there were several short, steep climbs and descents, and plenty of mud, but overall I was able to run most of it, even passing a few people along the way. 3 times I was asked by hikers and sightseers how far I the race was. Each time, when I told them 50 miles, I was greeted with astonishment, confusion, and looks of “what the heck are you doing that for”!

(Approaching the finish line)

I began to recognize my surroundings, and when I hit a small field, I knew I was almost done. I rounded a corner and saw the finish line. When I crossed the line in 10:40, I was surprised. 5 hours ago I thought I was certain to finish over 12 hours. After collecting my finisher’s gifts (towel and really nice Patagonia long-sleeve shirt), I limped over to a table and sat down. My feet and legs felt pretty good, but I was covered in mud and mentally exhausted.

(All Done!)

Looking back on my experience at Bull Run, I realize that in some ways ultra running is like life itself. Both can be fun, rewarding, and difficult at times. You are sure to have many highs and even some lows, but the more you persevere, the better things get. More often than not, a low point will pass and turn into an incredible high. I experienced a low point for part of the race that almost derailed my entire day. Knowing that you can push through these lows and come out stronger is a great feeling. Overall, I was happy with my day at Bull Run. I met my goals and had a great time. I wouldn’t say the course was easy (lots of little hills and tons of mud), but it was enjoyable and something I will definitely do again one day.

Hells Humidity

I decided late last week that I would ride out to Smithville with Chris to run the Hells Hills 25K on Saturday. Since I have the Bull Run 50 miler coming up this weekend, my goal was to try not to push too hard (sometimes difficult in a “race”) and to enjoy a new course (I’ve never run there before). We had a track meet on Friday, so I got to bed late, not fun since my alarm was set for 3:30 AM. After a 2 hour drive, I registered and talked to several friends who were there to help and/or run. The race had 4 distances to choose from, with the 50 miler starting at 5 AM, the 50K at 6, and the 25K and 10K at 7. Chris, Jason, and I toed the line for the 25K and were soon running up a slight hill and into the woods.

One thing that became very apparent early on was the fact that it was VERY humid. I was soaked with sweat after 10 minutes. I was really glad I had no intentions of pushing myself too hard today. After passing a few slower runners, I settled into a nice groove that I hoped to maintain for the rest of my run. Soon Chris passed me a few miles in, saying legs were feeling good. I spent the remainder of the run slowly passing other runners, only being passed by a couple guys running the 50 miler (boy was I glad I didn’t have to run that far in that humidity). The most exciting thing happened was being passed (briefly) by an 8 year old kid. He ended up finishing in 3 hours, quite an amazing feat for someone so young. I have a feeling we’ll hear more about him in the coming years. I jogged through the finish line in 2:49, happy with my effort.

I accomplished both of my goals for the day. When I felt like I was starting to push a little too hard, I purposely eased back on the throttle and slowed down. I thoroughly enjoyed the course but was very glad to be done after one loop. Luckily Asa was there to hose me down (in full firefighter gear) and cool me off. Another great Joe P race that I will attend again in the future.

Bandera Saturday

For those who have never run at Hill Country State Natural Area in Bandera, TX, there really isn’t a good way to describe the trails that will truly do it justice. Bandera throws a little bit of everything at you. There are rocks (lots of them, big and small), flat stretches that allow you to open things up, hills so steep that mortals (i.e. most anyone I run with not named Liza) are forced to walk, sotol cacti that rip your legs to shreds, and unshaded sections that leave you exposed to the merciless Texas sun. Sound like fun?

This past Saturday I ran 20 miles with some friends in Bandera and had a blast. We started just after light so we wouldn’t need our headlamps. Some of us were running 10 miles, others 15, and a few 20. The humidity was thick as we started, but that soon burned off and gave way to blue skies and a hot sun beating down on us. It was the first time this year any of us had run in the “heat”, although the temps in July will make this past Saturday seem like a cold winter day. We did our usual first loop, heading over Lucky’s Peak, Cairn’s Climb, and Boyle’s Bump. Upon reaching the saddle by Sky Island, we bid farewell to a few friends and headed over towards Trail 1 (bypassing Ski Island by the mandate of Chris). This stretch allows you to pick up the pace if you are feeling good, and we all settled into a nice run. Back to the car to drop off Tanya and refill our bottles, then back out for another 5 miles over the 3 Sisters with Chris and Larry. My legs felt great, and I could have definitely gone out for more. This is a huge mental boost as I head into my taper for the Bull Run 50 miler next weekend.

Despite the heat we encountered, I wouldn’t trade our runs at Bandera for any other trail in the area. The scenery is unmatched in its beauty. It’s always fun to catch up with friends and make new acquaintances. Saturday was no exception.

Movin' On Up

I am hoping to run the Bull Run 50 miler in 2 weeks in Northern Virginia. All I have to do is work my way off the wait list on the list of final entrants. I currently sit at #7 (started at #48 a month ago) and think I have a good shot at getting in. Everything will be finalized by next Thursday, so hopefully 7 more people decide they don't want to run the race. I have already made plane reservations, so I sure as heck hope I get in. Otherwise, I'll be looking for my own 50 mile trail run for my birthday. I'll post more when I know for sure.

Oblivious

I have decided to set a goal to make at least 3 entries on this blog per week, even if they are short ones. I’d love to post something every day, but I don’t think I have enough interesting things to say to keep that going, and I certainly don’t have enough time (at least not during the school year). Even if no one reads these posts (a distinct possibility), it’s good for me to write and out some thoughts down on paper (or in cyberspace).

I’ve been feeling extremely lazy in recent days, so getting out of bed early this morning to run was a monumental task. These early morning runs will become more frequent for me as the temperature and humidity continue to rise here in South Texas. My run was decent (there was a slight breeze at times) until last few minutes when I almost got hit by a truck. I like to think that I am in tune with my surroundings when I run, and I definitely noticed this guy (maybe a woman) backing out of his driveway on the opposite side (right) of the street. Since I was on the opposite sidewalk, I didn’t worry too much – until the truck continued backing up, all the way into the driveway across the street! I had to jump into the grass to avoid being hit. Good thing I was paying attention, because he/she certainly wasn’t.

This encounter made me realize (I’ve thought about this a lot recently) just how oblivious to our surroundings most people are. Maybe I have just noticed it more because I run, but it seems that very few people pay attention, or maybe more people feel entitled to their “space”. For example, what ever happened to people looking both ways before crossing a street, watching for cars in parking lots, and giving a courtesy wave for being let out into traffic? I have noticed more and more people just walking out into the street, in parking lots, or into traffic, as if this is their right, assuming that everyone else should make way for them. I’m not sure if I explained this well or just confused people with my mini rant, but it has bothered me lately. I guess this is one reason I love the trails so much. Other than the occasional rock, root, or slithery creature, one can tune out the outside world on the trails.

Prickly Pear 50K Race Report

(Start of Race)

Last Saturday I ran the Prickly Pear 50K trail race at nearby McAllister Park here in San Antonio, TX. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I always have mixed emotions about running this race. On the one hand I love it because it is close to home on familiar trails, and because any race put on by Bill Gardner is going to be a well-organized party. I also gained free entry this year by performing a morning’s worth of trash pickup on the trails. On the other hand, the terrain is relatively flat, the temperature usually heats up for the final miles, and the course consists of that dreaded four letter word – LOOP…3 of them to be exact. My goal this year (as with last year) was to break 5 hours. This would require a near-perfect race, but I believed it was a realistic possibility.

Another nice part of this race is being able catch up with friends, and I managed to see several at the start. I lined up next to Larry Pearson (Larry had been sick and was hoping to get in 20 miles), and soon we were off. The first couple miles of the race are on nice winding single track in the woods. While this makes for nice scenery, it can create a logjam of people, which can make it difficult to pass. This isn’t always a bad thing, as it forces you to start slowly, which can pay off later in the race. Larry and I settled in behind a group that kept us from going out too hard. I could tell that Larry was still recovering from his illness. He sounded like he was breathing with a bag over his head – good training for the altitude we will both face at the Wasatch 100 in September. I wasn’t too set on a certain pace for the first loop, but I knew I wanted to keep it under 9:15/mile, assuming that felt comfortable. I checked my watch at the first aid station (about 2.5 miles in) and saw that we were over 9:30. I wasn’t too concerned yet, knowing the start of a race almost always brings a slower pace with all the congestion. I began to slowly pick up the pace, but was cautious about going too hard since the air seemed to be very humid (I usually don’t run well in humidity). The rest of the loop passed by fairly quickly, with Larry and I running together for the first half (I lost him at some point along the way). I came into the start/finish area in 1:32, about a 9:10 pace. Although I felt like I was working a little too hard for my pace early on, I seemed to get more comfortable as the loop progressed. I grabbed a fresh water bottle, some Hammer gels, and headed back out for loop #2.

(Early on Loop #1)

(Larry Pearson)

Early in loop 2 I caught up to John Sharp, a friend and local runner who I knew was hoping to break 5 hours as well. My legs were feeling really good, so I decided to run at a pace I thought I could hold, regardless of how fast/sow it might be. At some point John let me step in front of him and set the pace. Just past the first aid station, we hit a pack of runners participating in the 10 mile race, which started after our race in the hopes of avoiding some congestion. I have run the 50K several times now, but this was the earliest I have ever run into 10 milers, and by far the most 10 mile runners I have ever seen. This was both frustrating and helpful. I felt like John and I spent most of the loop yelling “on your left” as we passed people (John is very good at this), but it always feels good to pass someone, giving you the feeling that you are moving really fast (even when this might not be the case). So, we wiggled our way around the course, passing at least 50 people along the way. I was just running on feel, not too sure how fast we were going. At one point, John mentioned to me that we had a great pace going and that he was having trouble keeping up. That’s not something that is said to me often, so I checked my watch and noticed that we were running in the low 8:00 pace, sometimes even dropping into the 7:00 range. Ouch, this was going to come back and bite me later, but I was content trying to hold on as long as I could. John edged ahead of me after I stopped to refill my water bottle at the last aid station (manned by our friend Edgar Gonzalez), and we cruised into the start/finish area with a total time of 3:05, about 15 minutes faster than my time from last year. I was fairly confident that, if I could stay with John, I would break 5 hours. I really needed to use the bathroom, but I figured the lines would be too long, and I felt too good to stop. Big mistake!!!

(Feeling good)

Two of the kids I coach in track/cross country were there to volunteer for the race, and they handed me a new water bottle and some gels for my final 10+ mile loop. Up to that point, I was averaging a low 9 minute pace through 20 miles, easily the fastest I had ever run a trail race. I took off on my last loop, putting on my headphones for a musical boost. About a half mile into the loop, I knew that my decision to skip the restroom was not a good one. I had to stop several times to re-assess my situation and soon realized that I would have to find a restroom – IMMEDIATELY. Luckily, I know McAllister Park fairly well. After some bushwhacking off the trail, I spotted the road that would take me to one of the pavilions and a much-needed restroom. I will spare everyone the details, but let’s just say this side trip ended up costing me nearly 10 minutes of precious time. Even worse, John was long gone, and I now had no one to run with. At this point, my legs felt ok, but my mind and body were fatigued from pushing hard on the first 2 loops. I did some quick mental calculations and knew I was going to have to push harder than expected if I was going to break 5 hours. The final loop of Prickly Pear is always tough, as the heat is usually out in full force (relative to what we have had in the preceding months), and the 20+ miles of flat running has worn you down. I wasn’t able to hold the pace I needed and ended up coming in at 5:13, still a solid PR. Had I not had my “detour”, I would have been under 5:05 for sure and might have been able to hold it together long enough to break 5 hours. John ended up running a great race and finishing in 4:46, good enough for 10^th place overall. While I was disappointed that I didn’t break 5 hours, I was happy with my time and excited about my fitness heading into the Bull Run 50 Miler (assuming I get into the race) in April.

After the race I swore that I was (again) done running this race and that I would stick to being a volunteer. So, I guess I’ll see everyone at the start line in 2012 