Race Report: El Vaquero Loco 50k 2013

Distance:  32 miles
Vertical:  9000'
Time:  7:05
Place:  19

August 10th was a beautiful day for a race in Star Valley, WY, the home stomping grounds of Ty Draney.  His race, El Vaquero Loco (The Crazy Cowboy) 50k has become my hands-down favorite 50k.  Somewhere between the huckleberry soda and camping out under the star-soaked skies of western Wyoming the night before the race, there's something special.  There aren't a ton of runners, and outside of Luke Nelson's annual butt-kicking performace you won't see many "heavy hitters" of the ultarunning world, but to miss the beauty and low-key, hometown feel of this race would be a sad thing indeed.  I'll be sure to include plenty of pictures in this rendition.

This year was a little different. I got married to my sweetheart, Jenny, a couple of months ago, and she was able to sneak out of work for the weekend and come with me, which was a new thing and really enjoyable.  We also gave Mike McKnight, a new addition to our Logan trail running "group" (previously consisting of Cody and myself) a lift. Cody had come up earlier in the day so he could bring his family and spend the day hanging out with them. 

A beautiful morning in the Salt River Mountains

After an exceptionally good sleep, I woke up to my alarm at 5:15 and began getting ready.  It was still dark at the starting line at 6 AM, but the light in the east promised that we wouldn't be needing any headlamps.  Before long, Ty gave the countdown and we were on our way.  Unlike last year, I was not in tip-top shape, so I didn't go out with Luke or anything crazy like that.  In fact, I even let Cody go on ahead.  My goal for this race was simply to finish without becoming injured.  Time and place were of little concern.  I even brought the extra weight of my camera along for the outbound portion of the run so I could snap a few photos.

Mike just about to descend "Balls"

I settled in with Mike and a few other runners in a loosely formed pack and slogged up the mountain.  I was breathing really hard, even though my legs weren't feeling tired.  This worried me a little, but I slowed a bit and kept moving.  Soon, my breathing calmed and I felt better.  After what seemed like forever, we finally reached the first saddle after a grueling 4 miles and 2500' of climbing.  I stopped to take a couple of quick snapshots at the top, and then dropped down the crazy descent known as "Balls" (I'll leave the nomenclature to your imagination).  My plantaris issue was not noticeable at all, which I was thankful for.

At the bottom, our "pack" had thinned out a bit to myself, Mike, and another runner named Pete, whom I think I had met before.  Soon we reached the first aid station, but I had plenty of water and fruit snacks, so I just blew past, enjoying every step of the course so far.  It was an absolutely beautiful morning, and I was soaking it in.  Before too long, and after probably a dozen more photo-ops, we reached the first of the lakes and the second aid station.

Since Balls, the course had been mainly downhill with a little bit of a climb coming into the lake, but just after the aid station we got socked in the mouth with the steepest climb of the race.  It's almost hands-and-knees stuff.  Mike didn't quite know what to think of that.  Thankfully, it's pretty short, and before we knew it we were at the next saddle and descending to the second lake.  After pausing for a couple of more pictures, we climbed out of that one too, and began the long descent to the turn around.  Mike and I stayed together, through the aid station and all the way down to the turnaround.  Unfortunately, he began to feel ill somewhere in the last three miles or so.

At the aid station I got to see Jenny and give her the camera so she could take photos of the finish.  She was enjoying herself and was helping Cody's wife with her kids.  I soaked my visor and shirt in the stream, restocked my fruit snacks, and wolfed down some food and soda.  Mike looked like death warmed over, and I told him not to make the same mistake I did last year and to stay at the aid station until he could get his stomach right again.  I didn't figure I'd see him again, and that there was a good likelihood that he would drop.

Leaving the turnaround for the return trip

Heading back out, I was lally-gagging a little bit, but still moving at a pretty good pace, when a couple of miles from the aid station I was very surprised to hear someone calling my name.  I looked back and there was Mike!  Talk about a resurrection of the dead!  Soon he caught up with me and we continued on together.  After the aid station, it was obvious that my inferior fitness was beginning to take its toll.  I was wearing down, so near the top of the long climb just before the lakes I told Mike to go ahead because I was slowing him down.  I could see him for a couple of minutes but after that, he was gone.  I wasn't really in a bad place, but I just couldn't go much faster and the miles were wearing on me.

Unfortunately, as soon as I began the steep descent into the lakes, my plantaris seized up and became very painful.  I had to really slow down to a crawl on any steep downhill.  Uphill and relatively level ground were no problem, thankfully, but steep downhills killed.  Other than that and just general tiredness, I was still feeling pretty good, however.  Soon I made it past the lakes and was able to pick up the pace on the relatively level/slight uphill section heading into the final aid station.

About half a mile before the aid, I passed a female runner sitting in the shade and obviously overheated.  I asked her if she had water and electrolytes, which she had, but it was obvious she was in a bad way with nausea.  When I got to the aid, I notified the personnel that she wasn't far from the aid and could probably use a little help to cool off.

The climb out of the first lake

The next challenge was the brutal ascent up Balls.  Coming down is a lot easier than going up.  But despite my fatigue I made good time and passed a few people that had passed me on the downhills.  At the top, I had to find a tree and earn a star.  Now I just had a steep 4 miles of downhill ahead of me.  With my plantaris acting up, I was reduced to hiking probably 75-80% of this.  It was hot and not very fun to be passed by literally everyone.  I lost count of how many times I got "chicked."  But I wasn't too disappointed.  I didn't feel that I was permanently injured, and I knew that this was going to be a slow time given my fitness.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally reached the campground.  I promised myself I'd at least look good on the finish, so I ran all the rest of the way, and it wasn't even painful!  I crossed the finish line in 7 hours and 5 minutes, an hour slower than my previous best on this course, but I was happy to finish the race, and in relatively un-banged-up condition.  My plantaris stopped hurting immediately, and didn't lock up after stopping, so I am counting that as "not injured."  Goals met.  My wife was there at the finish, along with Cody, Luke, Mike, and Ty.  Cody had finished 3rd (2nd Non-Luke), and Mike had cruised to a 5th place finish!  Not bad for a trail-running n00b!  He's going to be a force to be reckoned with in the coming year or so.  After the finish, I took a well earned soak in the lake and had a scrumptious burger and huckleberry soda.  I'm pretty happy with the race.  My plantaris issue recurrence means I won't be running the Bear this year, but I'm content to wait until next year.  It is getting better, slowly but surely.  It was just really nice to finish what I set out to do, and I'm looking forward to more.

Ahhh!

Race Report: Pocatello 50 2013 (brief, plus an update)

Distance:  50 Miles
Time/Place:  DNF

Well, for the second time in as many ultras, I had to DNF, but for different reasons.  This spring was very hectic, as I was up to my ears in school (funny, how easy classes turn out to be the most time-consuming ones when the professors load you down with busy-work) and clinicals, not to mention courting my now-wife, Jenny (more later).  Anyway, the story of this spring was sporadic and inconsistent training.  As a result, I started to have some issues with my plantaris (a small muscle near the lateral posterior side of the knee), due to muscle imbalances, undertraining, and overextending myself on the few long runs I did. In spite of this, I talked myself into signing up for the Pocatello 50, thinking that I had enough leftover fitness to at least finish the race, though I figured I wouldn't have a stellar time.  After all, if I was to run the Bear 100 this year, I needed to get in the required mountain 50 finish.

Anyway, to make a long story much shorter, I should have not signed up for this race.  I wasn't ready, I wasn't fit, I wasn't in mental shape for a 50, and my body wasn't durable enough.  The plantaris issue flared up badly at about the 22 mile mark, and honestly even without that I don't know that I had the will or the endurance to finish the race.  The silver lining is that after I quit at Mink Creek (34 miles) after hiking for an additional 12 miles, Luke Nelson, the RD and a really down to earth, classy guy, who also happens to be a physician's assistant, sat me down and diagnosed my injury and gave me some exercises to help treat the causes.  To this point, I thought it was IT band issues, but he set me straight and gave me some good advice.  I'm happy to report that the injury is slowly healing, although it's not quite there yet, as you'll see in my next race report.  Big thanks to Luke for that.

And now for the life update:  This June 28, instead of running Logan Peak as usual for that weekend, I was lucky enough to get to marry my best friend and sweetheart, Jenny.  I missed out on a lot of training during the dating and wedding planning stages, but honestly I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  Totally worth it.  As I've learned from my training partners Cody and Jon, and many other people who I respect and admire, life's not all about just one thing like running or any other pursuit.  It's much more fulfilling to find the balance between family, career, self, and the various other things that we have going on in our lives.  Jenny is a big part of that for me.  Even now, I can't really imagine what life going forward would be like without her.  And lucky for me, she is so supportive of my running habits.  She worries occasionally that I'm going to die out on the trails somewhere, but she's been a really great cheerleader, doctor, and sports psychologist so far.  She even goes running with me once in awhile!  I'm a pretty lucky guy.  Anyway, that's the "life update" you've all been waiting for.  Until next time.

A trail runner's thoughts on the Boston Marathon bombings

4:09

12 seconds that will now be forever etched into the memory of runners everywhere.  Confusion.  Panic.  Sadness.  Bewilderment.  These are a few things that many have felt to one degree or another, whether there was a training partner or family member running, or just because you feel the camaraderie from being a "runner" and imagining what it must have been like to be there.  But most of us who weren't there can't really know...only imagine.

What happened on April 15 will likely change our sport forever.  I imagine there will be some surface level changes, like more security at large races, but the lasting changes will be in the minds and hearts of we who run.  No runner alive today will likely complete another marathon without recalling, at least momentarily, the horror of that day at Boston.  As 4:09 ticks past on the finish line clock, there will be some who pause for a moment at the memory of the explosions, the screams, the confusion, the blood, the tears.  And that's as it should be.  We would do well to remember that there are those in this world who believe that violence is the way to get attention, or that it is the way to solve problems.  We should recognize that it is the same evil that motivated this attack which motivated the British Crown to oppress and kill its own citizens in the Revolutionary period, including the first Boston Massacre.  It is the same evil that was behind Hitler, Stalin, Mao Zedong, and more recently the terror attacks of September 11, 2001 and the host of other injustices and horrific tragedies which have taken place throughout the history of this planet.  We would do well to hope to eradicate this evil, and to hope that justice can be served upon the heads of those responsible where it is possible through the judicious application of just and fair laws.

We should also remember the consequences of the actions that we take in searching out justice.  Before we hasten to exact vengeance, we should perhaps pause to ponder on what it is we are really looking for.  Perhaps runners, more than most who have not experienced a tragic loss of this nature, understand the value of blood and tears.  In our never ending quest to reach deeper within ourselves through running, each of us has shed a few drops of both.  We know the worth of freedom, as each of us has experienced this in a way that many do not.  We know at least one kind of happiness.  With this in mind, let us remember the value of life, of liberty, of happiness, and not let the thirst for vengeance overcome our sense of humanity.  In our search to make sense of these events, lets remember that the best tribute to those who lost their lives, or part of their freedom, or who are sorrowing because of the evil acts of a few, is to reach out to one another.  To counter Evil with Good.  To be a little bit better person.  To sacrifice something for someone else.  To offer assistance to someone in need.  To say a kind word as you pass a stranger on the trail. These are the things that will win out in the end.  No amount of armed force, fear, or hatred can change history, but love and service can change the future.  Love in the face of death, pain, and terror is the deepest kind of courage, and I believe it is the ultimate source of power in this existence.  It's not unlike the will to keep running through pain to the top of the next ridge, knowing that there are still many more mountains to climb, but that each successive summit will bring more breathtaking vistas than the last.

My Mormon faith leads me to believe honestly that God can make good out of anything--even something as tragic as the events in Boston.  But in order for this to happen, and in order for us to be more like Him, we each need to learn to do this individually.  So don't let fear, anger, and hate take over.  It only leads to more suffering.  Become someone better, something more.  We know how to do this, but we also know it takes a little work.  So lace up, and RUN!