San Diego 50 Mile Race Recap

Over the course of my training for the San Diego 50 Miler (my first legit ultra) I gradually began to wrap my head around the possibility of running that far, and actually felt pretty confident during my peak training weeks.  I ran about a hundred miles over an eight day span during Christmas break, and got a sense of what it must be like to push on with tired legs.  But in the days leading up to last Saturday’s race, I just felt like a shell of myself, distracted and anxious.  It seemed like it would be a miracle somehow to even get to the starting line.  But sure enough, after an eight hour drive from the Bay Area to San Diego on Friday, with my two and four-year-old boys in the back, some bad Mexican food in Oceanside for lunch, and a slight wrong turn on the way to the race Saturday, I found myself picking up my number and shirt at the registration table in a dark parking lot with about forty-five minutes to go until race time.

We were staying with my brother Jay and his girlfriend Julia whose own brother, Mark, was also running the race.  He had completed a couple 50 milers before, and his excitement on the drive over did a bit to dispel some of my own anxiety.  After we checked in, we went back to Jay’s heated car and sat for a while.  I kept going over my gear to make sure I didn’t forget anything, and miraculously, it seemed like everything was in order.  Lesley would be meeting me at the 30-mile aid station and the two after that, so I wasn’t going to use a drop bag.  I generally never run with a hat, but after Mark told me how exposed parts of the course would be, I began to regret not having one.  Fortunately Jay said he would send one with Lesley, which turned out to be a lifesaver.

Mark and I are ready to go

At about ten minutes to race time, everyone started leaving the warmth of their cars and heading over to the starting line.  After some brief instructions about trail markings, and a bit of encouragement, we were off.  The sun wasn’t up yet, but it was light enough to see, and the outdoor temperature on Jay’s car said it was 38 degrees.  I just had a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, and carried my one hand-held water bottle.  Most of my big training runs were done on cold mornings, so it felt perfect.  My biggest fear in the beginning was going out too fast and getting caught up in the moment, so I held back for the first few miles up to Raptor Ridge, keeping an eye on my watch and trying to stay between 9:00 and 9:30 miles.  At Raptor Ridge it felt great to be on some single track and to get some climbing in, and I caught up with Mark and we chatted a bit.  We both flew down the backside which might have worried me a bit, but I’ve found that sometimes it takes less energy to run fast downhill than slow.  Going into the first aid station, I kept to my plan of eating often and early, and grabbed three quarter-cut peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and shoved them down my throat.  I didn’t want to spend much time there so I raced out, leaving Mark behind.

For the next section of the race I tried to stay as relaxed as possible and enjoy the moment.  The sun finally came up from behind the hills and I knew it would get hot eventually, so I just tried to stay loose and cool.  The course went through a dry riverbed alongside strawberry fields at one point, but mostly through open chaparral.  I brought my iPod and planned on listening to it eventually, but wanted to see how far I could go without it.  Eventually I heard the noise of I-15 and we hit the second aid station.  Sticking to my plan I grabbed another three quarter-cut peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and even a chocolate chip cookie.  I decided to start using my Nuun tablets here, but decided to keep going without the iPod.  For the next fifteen miles, I just settled into my run and tried not to worry too much about anything.  I felt pretty confident with runs up to about thirty miles in length, and figured I’d have plenty of time to deal with anything that might come up.  I chatted a bit with a few people and it was nice to reach Lake Hodges.  But I kept thinking about how exposed the trail was, knowing that eventually the sun would be a factor.

Hi Five From Lucas at mile 30

I felt good at the turnaround and dumped some water over my head, but I knew that I was entering the unknown, that stretch of running that had initially made ultras seem so intriguing, but mostly because of the fact that it had seemed impossible to go that much further past a marathon.  There was a bit of climbing after the turnaround and I decided to power-hike most of it to conserve energy.  I was actually behind someone who was running and we were going about the same speed, so it seemed like a good choice.  But this was my first bit of walking, and in a way it snapped me out of the trance of running.  I saw Mark after a mile or two and he reminded me to take salt capsules at the aid stations.  I put my iPod on at about 28 miles, and just thought about how great it would be to see Lesley at the next aid station.  But the heat was really starting to bother me, and my plan to eat early and often now seemed like a poor choice because my stomach was starting to bother me.  When I reached the aid station, I first saw Lucas, my four-year-old, then Lesley.  Jay, my brother, was holding Evan, our two-year-old, and Jay’s girlfriend Julia was there too.  It was definitely a lift, but a bit of a struggle to leave and head back out into the sun.  Lesley had brought Jay’s running hat though, which made a huge difference, and has made me wonder why I had never run with a hat before.

Shuffling away from the 35 mile aid station

The next twelve miles or so were a struggle, and the wheels fell off a bit.  In preparation for this run, I had read about “bad patches” and how runners can get through them and actually feel better.  But given my experiences in marathons, where you feel bad with a few miles left and gut it out till the end, it seemed unlikely.  At this point though I was really hoping there was some truth to it.  The stretch between miles thirty and forty were flat and exposed.  I thought maybe I could distract myself with music, but this was some real suffering – although I guess all suffering is relative, and this was definitely self-imposed.  My stomach hurt and even today a week later, the thought of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich makes me a bit nauseas.  I began walking some stretches of the flats and told myself if I could just make it to I-15, the forty-mile aid station, I could walk it in if I really had to.  I definitely vowed during this time to never run another ultra (but was looking for another 50 on the internet the next day).

I actually thought I was smiling here 

A couple things helped me through my bad patch.  The first were ginger candies, which Lesley loaded me up with at the forty mile aid station, and instantly helped my stomach problems.  The second was ice in my running hat, which would last about five miles until the next aid station.  Of course I should mention my crew, Lesley, who got me everything I needed, reminded me when I had already taken a salt tablet, and got me back on the trail.  But the two people that really snapped me out of it were Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg.  I was walking out of the forty mile aid station swallowing masticated pretzels like pills to keep getting calories when “Nothin’ but a G Thang” came up on my iPod.  I needed to get kind of fired up at this point to bring it home, so I started rapping along with Snoop and Dre along the bicycle path by I-15.  The more I rapped the more I felt like a true G, so I threw some arm movements into it, not really caring when I passed people out for a Sunday bicycle ride – I guess I must have looked like some salt stained, running freak yelling some unfortunate lines about women, but I figured the fact that I was wearing a bib gave me a bit of a license to be a weirdo.  The song got me going, and I started walking less, knowing I just had to make it to the next aid station.  Things were pretty spread out at this point in the race, but I passed a couple people and we traded encouragements to get through the shared voluntary suffering.

My tank was empty when I got to the last aid station before Raptor Ridge, and I leaned on the table for a minute, eating some watermelon and trying to get some Coke in for the caffeine and sugar to get me home.  When I left the aid station and started up Raptor Ridge, a Pixies cover of the Warren Zevon song “Ain’t That Pretty at All” came on, which seemed perfect for my state of being at that moment, so I shouted the chorus as I got up the hill.  On the backside of the hill, I found I could run, or shuffle, but whatever it was, it was continuous, and even though I promised myself some walking breaks, I didn’t really walk much at all.  The closer I got, the more I felt the excitement swell up within, and I had a minor emotional breakdown when I saw the cars of the parking lot through the trees.  But I kept it under control, and just enjoyed the moment as I ran in to my family and was able to finally stop.  My time was 8:45:19, I came in 16^th overall, but most importantly I finished something that I previously thought impossible.  The world really begins to open up at such moments in life.

Pure Joy!

For now I focus on the Boston and Big Sur marathons in April, but Lesley and I have tentatively planned on teaming up for the Dirty Dozen twelve hour race in Pinole in July.  We figure she could probably run about three hours and I should be able to do nine, but my personal goal would be to see if I can go beyond 50.  After that, who knows?  Road marathons don't quite have the same appeal anymore, although I am looking forward to Boston and Big Sur.  A 100-mile race seems awesome in theory, but impossible to wrap my head around, but I remember when a 50 felt the same way.

Pulling out of the Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon

Sadly I'm not going to be able to run the Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon in San Francisco on February 2nd. My injury has persisted (doctor diagnosed it as hip tendinitis) despite resting it.  Monday I went out for a test run.  I ran 2 easy miles but the pain increased toward the end of my run.  It's pretty apparent that I won't be able to run 13.1 miles. 

I'm sad and disappointed.  I'm beginning to miss running.  Hopefully another week or so of rest will allow it to heal so I can get back out there.  I had already decided not to sign up for a spring half but instead focus on increasing speed and maybe do a few 5Ks and 10Ks.  Now I'm not so sure.  I'm hesitant to sign up for anything at this point. 

The outside of my leg is tight - I believe that's my IT band.  I need to research foam rolling and see if that helps. 

Instead of wallowing in the disappointment of not being able to run the half marathon (after such a good training cycle with my new running coach!) I'm going to use this time off to add in some strength training (a goal of mine for the past 2 years!) and also check out some yoga studios.  I'm hoping that will keep me from losing too much fitness and will also help me add them in to my routine when I do begin running again.

My Taper Slump

Usually when I’m training for a race, I dream about those last two weeks of the training schedule, the taper.  After hitting a peak of high mileage, those short runs at the end, and the extra days off seem like a mini-vacation before the race.  But the reality is, I can never fully enjoy the taper – whether it’s withdrawal, or an irrational fear that my hard earned fitness is slowly deflating, or like this time around, anxiety for the unknown that awaits me this weekend, the taper weeks are always a drag.

My original plan was to run the North Face Endurance Challenge 50 miler in December, but I waited just a bit too long to commit to the race and when I went to sign up, it was full.  I had already been training for a couple months, so I found another race, the San Diego 50 Miler in January, and signed up immediately.  This would give me a chance to see my brother and his girlfriend’s new place in Escondido, take the family to my old college stomping grounds, and give me an additional month and a half to train.  With five road marathons under my belt (four in the past year), it felt like it was time to see if I could go further.  Plus, I was getting a little bored running on pavement, and the idea of exploring the trails around Mount Diablo sounded intriguing.

Now that the race is just three days away, I know I should just trust in my training, but there is just so much uncertainty to stay calm and confident this time around.  My longest training run was the Lake Folsom 50K in November, and I actually came in third overall.  I ran that race like a marathon though, going out a bit too fast and paying for it through the last few miles.  Even though technically it is an ultra, I didn’t really feel like that gave me credibility to claim I’ve completed an ultra. 

The bulk of my training took place in the hills around Concord and Walnut Creek.  All of my medium training runs of at least six miles were either in the hills of Lime Ridge or Shell Ridge, and all included as many hills as I could get in.  I ran the hills as much as I could, and even though I plan to walk some hills in San Diego, I figured running would give me a better base of fitness.  My long runs were pretty much exclusively on Mount Diablo, through Castle Rock.  It’s about four and a half miles to get to the entrance of Castle Rock from my house, but there’s something about stepping out of my door for a run without having to get into a car that I enjoy.  The summit of Mount Diablo is twelve miles away, so I’ve been doing summit runs from my house for a few months now.  The summit elevation is 3800 feet, so I feel like I’m pretty well prepared for the 5500 feet of elevation gain over 50 miles in San Diego.  The peak of my training included two 28 mile runs (I included the North Summit and a few hundred feet elevation gain) within six days of each other.  I survived it all, but still, this anxiety won’t quit.

I went out for a two mile run this evening, and began wondering about that tug in my Achilles, and that ache in the arch of my foot, and the general sluggishness I feel this week after fighting a cold and going back to work.  I also woke up with a pinched nerve in my back last week, but that has abated and hopefully won’t return.  It’s not exactly that I doubt myself because I learned in my training, that when it comes down to it, I’m a pretty resilient mofo.  One of those Mount Diablo summit runs was done in the morning, and when I left my house in the 6am darkness in shorts and a long sleeve shirt, it was in the twenties.  Things didn’t improve much higher up on the mountain with the ice on the trail and the wind kicking up.  But I made it through that run, and even took an ice bath afterwards.

But I do wonder about everything out of my control, or forgetting something, or realizing I actually over-trained and am injured.  I think it’s all part of the process, but I’ll feel a lot better when I’m toeing that starting line Saturday morning.

Injury?

This training cycle has been a bit rough for me.  I've had an injury that keeps cropping back up (or never fully heals).  It's a pain right in the crease of my leg, perhaps a groin strain?  It might be my hip flexor though, I'm not sure.  It usually acts up when I'm pushing myself hard on a run (typically during speed work).  It starts as just a little twinge but then if I continue to run it escalates to the point where I have to stop running. 

I've spent the past few days at Disneyland with my family and we did a lot of walking.  I realized that I don't have a good pair of walking shoes so I just wore my Saucony Kinvaras which aren't a really supportive shoe.  Plus Evan was teething and had a cold and wanted to be carried whenever we were waiting in line.  I think the combo of the two aggravated it more as I started feeling the pain all of the time, even when I wasn't running. 

I managed to run 3 miles yesterday and I did feel it but the pain didn't get bad enough that I had to stop running.  I'm supposed to run 13 miles tomorrow but I don't think that's wise.  I've made an appointment to see my doctor on Monday.  Hoping just a few days of rest will help.  With the half marathon 3 weeks away I really don't want to miss out on too many more training days.