Dancing with Zane Grey - 50 miles along the Highline Trail - April 27, 2013

I can't remember having this much fun and misery at the same time.

Photo by Casey Plonczak.

BACKGROUND

THE REPUTATION

This race is notorious for being one of the toughest 50 mile races in the country. Why? Because it's roughly 51 miles of rocks, mostly exposed under the Arizona sun, and constantly changing grade. The course is predominantly between 6,000' and 7,000' in altitude, and the elevation gain is over 11,000' of ascent. This is a course that wears you down, no matter who you are. You could be in the shape of your life, but it's the course that will ultimately decide the fate of your run. At least, that's what someone told me while I was waiting in the bathroom line.

Because there are very few photos of the Zane Grey trail (that I know about, or have permission to use), see the video below for a sample of the course:

See the video here

CREW

Casey, one of my two brotherly cousins, lives in Arizona and agreed to crew my ass for the race. He was also my photographer with a camera large enough to make me feel like a legit male model. Run run run *STRIKE-A-POSE*. Thanks again, Casey! This race would have been a Reeba without you.

Cousin Alex, me, and Cousin Casey in 2012

RACE GOALS

My goals were simple, though I would've been satisfied with any of them:

1. Top 3
2. Break 9.5 hours
3. Break 10 hours
4. Break 11 hours (and qualify for Western States)
5. Finish without breaking anything below the belt.

Hydrating the day before the race.

RACE MORNING


WAKE UP

The alarm rang, and I quickly became wide awake with as much excitement as 3am would allow. With the help of JT, I started dancing across the room as I got ready for the long day. Mmm...Feelin' good! Feelin' fine! Okay, let's do this.

INTO THE DARKNESS - 5:00 AM START

3...2...1...Eee-hee!

And with a final countdown, the race began with a stream of glowing headlamps. Since the sky was already beginning to fade from black to blue, I decided not to run with a headlamp. Rocks were here and there, but the glow from the headlamps in front of me lit up enough of the trail for me to plan my steps carefully. It also helped that James Bonnett had a 500 lumen flashlight, and we became running buddies for a bit. James also ran the Gorge Waterfalls 50k the previous month, and so we already kind of knew each other from that race. Nice guy! Hiking up the first climb, the sky soon lit the trail with a faint glow that was barely distinguishable with the rocky shadows. Shortly after the first climb ended, the trail already started providing spectacular views of the Tonto (jump on it!) National Forest with the moon centered above the horizon. Taking in the views was risky business on such a technical trail, so my glances were no more than a half second at a time.

Rolling along, the trail was ever-changing in terms of elevation and direction. This must be what Love feels like, and everything was lovey dovey. The Sun finally crested the hills in the distance, and both James and I greeted the sun with a F***-a-doodle-doo. For now, the temperature was comfortable. The temperature would continue to climb steadily until eventually reaching a dry breeze-less 80 degrees Fahrenheit in the heat of the day.

Photo by
Casey Plonczak.

Great minds think alike, and there were 5 or 6 of us who ran together for a few miles before the 1st Aid Station. After confessing to James that he was my only friend at the race, he began introducing me to everyone else in the people train. Then from nowhere, we all started hearing a woman's voice call out from a nearby ravine. When she emerged from the brush, it turned out to be fellow racer Kerrie Bruxvoort who had made an incredibly wrong turn. How she ended up in the ravine, we never really figured out. Throughout the day, seemingly everyone would make a wrong turn and get some kind of lost. The trail was well marked in some areas, and scarcely marked in others.

AID STATION 1 - MILE 8

Photo by
Casey Plonczak.

This was the only Aid Station I rushed, since 8 miles is hardly enough to tax me to the point of nutritional depletion. Casey took some photos, I filled my bottle, threw a pretzel and strawberry in my mouth, and bolted. The rest of the train was still at the aid station as I began the trotting up the trail. James eventually caught up to me, and we ran together for a bit. After a mile or so, James started to pull away from me. At that time, I grabbed a GU from my pack and ingested it with digestive assertion. Putting the wrapper back into my pocket, I noticed some of my GUs had fallen out of my handheld pocket....CRAP! Littering is terrible Karma. Luckily, I only had to backtrack 100' to grab them. After this moment, I never saw James for the rest of the race, and that was a good thing since he was pushing me a little harder than I desired. With him out of sight, my focus turned to sustaining Jason's comfortable forever pace. It was this moment that my shirt fell off.

The course had some "decent" sections of trail, but the rest of the course was super technical and rocky. And if the rocks didn't get you, the plants probably would. Having spent the past 3 years running in the lush and friendly forests of the Pacific Northwest, it was shocking to find such hostile plants along this already brutal course. After the first 15 miles of the race, I found out which plants were making me bleed, and I added a new move to my rock dancing - the bushwack shimmy. I'm really glad I didn't have to take a crap during this race.

AID STATION 2 - MILE 17

Bottle Face. Photo by Casey Plonczak.

Coming into Aid Station 2, Casey handed me a coconut water to chug and Trailbutter to munch. My bottles were then filled with water, and I shoved pretzels and a banana into my mouth for me to chew over the next mile. Each of the Aid Stations were followed by some sort of long hill climb, and my legs were hiking most of the hills at this point in the race. Some of the gradual inclines were runnable, but my uphill pace was hardly ambitious. It was still early in the race, and my running strategy became somewhat similar to running a 100 mile race. Finding that balance of efficiency was tough since the climbs were getting steeper and steeper, but relentless forward progress was the key (Not to mention maintaining proper nutrition & hydration).

Hiking along, I passed Dominic Grossman, who was having somewhat of a bad day. Hiking...running...hiking...bushwacking...pathfinding...shit! Wrong turn! Backtracking, I re-discovered the trail and passed Dominic a second time (he would later drop out of the race due to the aggravation of a knee injury).

Jamil Coury (Mogollon Monster 100 winner) passed me effortlessly, and he was running strong and steady. I blamed his long legs.

AID STATION 3 - MILE 25

Screw efficiency, I wanted a damn liter a cola! The seconds gained on a fast Aid Station transition in this race can easily be for nothing if you don't fuel the body right. Taking a couple minutes to make sure I was hydrated, settled, and full of fuel was extremely important for me to feel comfortable and confident to tackle the next 8 miles...cough*cough*bullshit*, I mean 10 miles. (At least someone at the Aid Station told me it was 10 miles, not that it really mattered). Going into the race, I knew it was "officially" longer than 50 miles, I expected the distance between aid stations to at least seem long, and I wasn't surprised that the race met my expectations in that regard.  Mike Carson soon showed up, and we essentially left the aid station together.

Hiking...running...hiking...after a few miles, I found myself pulling away from Mike, as he seemed to be suffering a little bit. It would have been nice to run with him, but it's hard to uphold the buddy system when running with competitive people (myself included). Ah, the loneliness of the long distance runner...such is life. At least I enjoy my own company. Nothing but me, the rocks, and the comforting rustling of lizards scattering into the brush (comforting, in that it kept reminding me to look out for rattle snakes).

About 2 miles before the Aid station, there was a 'water only' aid station with limited resources. He topped off one of my bottles, and I coasted for the next two miles.

AID STATION 4 - MILE 33 my ass!

Photo by Casey Plonczak.

The Fish Hatchery Aid Station greeted me with a hero's welcome, filled with gaggles of volunteers, crews, and pacers just waiting for their runners to arrive. As soon as I reached the pavement, a volunteer handed me my drop bag before I even remembered to look for it. Before putting on my race vest (Mountain Hardware Fluid 6 pack with a full 1.5 liter reservoir), I had Casey throw some ice in my bladder (hehehe). Both my handheld bottles were topped off, and I munched on some fruit and pretzels while singing along to the boom box blasting “Guantanamera”. With a chug of some coconut water, I began the longest, most difficult, and most scarcely marked section of the course.

The night before the race, I drew the course profile on my arm with a blue pen. Though it was partially smeared from sweat, it was still reasonably legible. I took a quick break from counting rocks and glanced at my arm. The course profile looked like a rapid heart rate monitor jacked on adrenaline (at least that’s how I drew it). Not that I expected the course to get any flatter, but it was nice to know that the steepest climbs were coming soon. Combined with the fact that I was now running in 4^th place after passing a suffering Scott Jaime, my attitude was very positive.

Crossing every stream, I used my hat to shovel scoops of water over my head until my hair couldn’t get any wetter. The water also felt great on my feet, despite creating heavy shoes. Ducking under a barbed wire fence, the trail took a hairpin turn and shot straight up the hillside for the steepest climb of the course. This climb was a real grind, shaded but steep. With hands on my thighs, my mind was concentrating on efficient hiking with a strong pace. Scott Jaime and Mike Carson were behind me somewhere, and my competitiveness wanted to make sure they stayed there. Course markers were rare, and confidence markers seemed spaced a mile apart. The ice in my pack kept my the water relatively cool for a while, but eventually all my water sources turned mildly warm yet again. This heat was a strong dry 80 degrees, indeed, and despite drinking constantly throughout the race, I peed only once at mile 40 (despite several earlier attempts).

At this point, the quads were getting tired and my feet were starting to chafe, but the downhills were still fun as hell. Also, running downhill was the only way I could get a damn breeze to cool off.

As I write this blog, remembering the course is such a blur. So much of the trail was covered in rocks, it’s hard to mentally distinguish one trail section from another. However, I do remember that this section was scarcely marked. The trail was fairly easy to recognize, but there were several spots where it would be easy to whoops, where the hell am I? Despite the warming sun, my mind remained sharp and always planning my next 2 steps. Some would call this tiring, but this kind of running brings so much focus into the present moment. Really, there was nothing else to think about, and it really brings out the 'Zen' in Zane.

MILE 44  - LAST AID STATION

Photo by Casey Plonczak.

Arriving at the final aid station, I drank 3 cups of coke, a coconut water, squeezed some Trailbutter into my mouth, filled my bottles, and ditched my pack with Casey. Bret Sarnquist ran into the aid station as I was slowly leaving, and he quickly caught up to me. With only 7 miles to go, I really didn't care about how I placed. My body was worn down, and it was nice to run with company again. I asked Bret if he wanted to run the last section together, but he politely declined as he felt more comfortable just doing his own thing. That said, my hiking was slightly stronger than his, and after a couple miles I was alone yet again. My downhill legs lost all enthusiasm at this point, and my feet simply danced with my momentum. Even the gradual uphills brought me to a hike, since it seemed like all I could do at the time. Then with 2 miles left, Chris Price comes blasting down the trail and passes the shit out of me. There was no way I could keep his pace, and it didn't matter much to me at the time. It was just impressive.

With a mile left, it was difficult to run even the most gradual incline, my right foot started to feel some rock bruising, my lips desired an ice cold coke, and I couldn't stop thinking about that nice cool bed waiting for me in my air-conditioned hotel room. It seemed like a longest f*ing mile of my life.

RESULTS: 9:43:07, 5th out of 95 Finishers (124 starters)

PACE: ~11:40 min/mile

Photo by Casey Plonczak.

Casey and me! Photo by Map Photography

Rocky buddy! I ran 50 miles and got Charlie Browned.

AFTERTHOUGHTS

This race was tough. To finish this race with a respectable time without hardly a stumble, I'm super proud of this accomplishment. There were lessons learned for sure, but overall I can come away from this race with confidence that I'm slowly becoming the runner I want to be.

Congrats to James Bonnett for the win!

THANKS

Thank you to the race directors and organizers, the race was well run and provided a unique experience that I'll never forget.

Thank you volunteers, your enthusiasm and energy got me pumped up at every aid station.

Thank you NSPiRE, as always, for your endless support.

Thank you Float Shoppe for the recovery, relaxation, and mental focus that has helped me both in training and racing.

Thank you Casey!

PLANTAR FASCIITIS

The past December, I was debating dropping out of this race (and other races) to give my foot time to heal its plantar fasciitis. Last year, my left foot was painfully inflicted by it, but in focusing on healing my left foot, my right foot came down with a less aggravated form of plantar. Though I still suffer from occasional bouts of plantar in my right foot, it's relatively under control. I'm grateful for all the help my sports chiropractor Brad Farra has been in helping me not only heal, but also become a stronger & healthier runner. Thanks Brad, I really appreciate all the help you've been over the past year!

FINAL WORDS

ROOMMATES

My roommates have become like brothers, especially through all that's happened the past few years. I Love you guys, and I appreciate having you all in my life. This race is dedicated to Shiloh, who passed away from a heart attack the week before Zane Grey. He was a sincere and kind person, and he had an infectious laugh and smile. Although his habits never sat well with me, he was a good man. My roommate Andrew wrote a blog of sincere reflection, and you can read it here if you'd like.

Much Love,

Jbob

Gorge Waterfalls 50k - Columbia River Gorge - March 30, 2013

"Damn it, I have to pee again" - 30 seconds before the Start

Moments before the start, everyone catching up with each other.
Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.

It's amazing how competitive this race has become. With elites like Yassine Diboun, Hal Koerner, Jeff Browning, Mario Mendoza, Christopher Koller, and others...it's no wonder my body was full of anxiety leading up to the race. Perhaps my anxiety was just a form of excitement, an eagerness to prove to myself that my role models from the past two years were slowly becoming my peers.

Course Profile

3...2...1...Holy shit their sprinting! Gah, wake up legs!

Ambitious Bastards. Photo by well revered Glenn Tachiyama.

This race started at a way faster pace than in 2012, and my legs needed to wake up quick. After the pack squeezed across the narrow pedestrian bridge, the course turned into a rutted overgrown truck path. The runners stayed inside the ruts and formed two single file lines, with the front pack beginning to pull away as we neared Multnomah Falls. I jumped into the thick grass and accelerated to the back of the front runners as we began to make our way to the ascent of Wahkeena Falls. I dumped most my water out before the first climb to save some weight. The trail ascends ~1,600' in about 2 miles.

Many runners charged up the trail ambitiously, and some of them lost gas about halfway up. Mario Mendoza, Zach Violett, and Yassine just blasted up the switchbacks like their asses were on fire. I tracked behind Jeff Browning, one of the most efficient runners I know, and ran a satisfyingly hard pace in ~12th place. Some of us leap frogged our way up, but a group of 4 of us stayed together. A GU found my mouth, and then we crested and began our downhill descent towards Multnomah Falls via the Larch Mountain Trail. On the way, I filled my water bottle in a trustworthy steam. The next mile had some of my favorite technical downhill sections, and it totally rocks (photo). The trail descends ~1,400' in about 2 miles.

On the way down the Larch Mountain and Multnomah Falls trails, the rocks turned into a nicely paved asphalt for the final mile of descent. As I ran, my stomach began to feel tight, my mouth all of a sudden had a funny taste, and I'm sure my face was Edward white (without the chick-magnet sparkles). After having the Flu/Norovirus only 2 weeks prior, my stomach was well familiar with the sensation of yakking. Nausea hit me hard, and for half a mile I fought the urge to throw up in front of all the hikers. All I could think about was Wayne's World, which didn't help. After slowing down and some careful breathing, things began to settle. I have never had nausea like this during a run, and it had me worried that my race would suffer from a weak stomach. The legs soon found their push, I pulled ahead of Jeff and some other guy. Feeling strong, riding the roller coaster of rocks and waterfalls.

Running with the Sharmanian at Horsetail Falls.
Photo by the magnificent Glenn Tachiyama.

Coming into the first aid station, I grabbed some magical ginger ale (to help my stomach) before bounding back up the trail. The course soon passed Oneonta Falls, followed closely by Horsetail Falls. Ian Sharman caught up to me and we ran together for a bit while leap-frogging with Hal Koerner (Hal was nursing some kind of foot injury). The course then turned pretty rocky and weaved everywhere with a slight downhill, and this was easily my favorite part of the course. Rock dancing, grabbing trees to swing around a tight turn, and always on the verge of eating shit...I was having a blast. I even scoped out a great place to take a crap if the need should arrive (foreshadowing). Then the trail turned to road, and my weakness was exposed. Ian Sharman left me in the dust, and I worked to keep a respectable flat road pace. Running on flat roads has never been my strength, except for this one time when I ran SUPER fast to catch up to a girl at the Seattle Marathon and asked her for her bib number. The road section is 2.5 miles long before reaching the 2nd aid station. After the 2nd aid station is a short 1-mile out, 1-mile back before repeating the first half of the course back to the start/finish.

The road section wasn't much fun, but it gave the mind a break from counting rocks. Not before too long the 2nd Aid Station came into view, and Todd and Renee were there as my crew (<3). Todd confiscated my water bottle and I ran the out-n-back empty handed. The turn-around spot was at the foot of the beautiful Elowah Falls, where everyone had to grab a pokerchip to prove that they went all the way to the halfway point. My position was approximately 7th place and 1.5 miles behind the leaders, and the fart I just took had greatly relieved some internal pressure. Everything was feeling great, legs and stomach included. Coming back into the aid station, Todd had my two bottles ready, but I only grabbed one. Back to the road. THANKS TODD AND RENEE!!! <3!

Todd Crewing. Me trying to find the Poker Chip Box.
Photo by Renee Seker.

My road pace was definitely lacking, and I was soon passed by both Hal Koerner and Jeff Browning. Their strides were solid, and my legs weren't feeling courageous enough to keep up with them. Would I ever see them again? Probably not, but who knows what could happen. Instead of freaking out, I busied myself by high-fiving, smiling, and encouraging my friends and runners who were still headed the opposite direction. By the time I reached the trail, I had to take a crap. There was nice partially hidden (not really) spot off the trail that was tangled with prickly vines and high grass. Only my ankles suffered from the evil prickly things, thank God. My short break didn't cause me to lose position, but Jonathan the Canadian caught up to me just after I pulled my pants up. We ran close together for a while, but eventually I pulled away while charging up the gradual twisty roller coaster. The runners who were headed the opposite direction were super kind and stepped off the trail so I could run by. To those, I say thank you. Vaya con Dios.

Photo by Takao Suzuki. Thanks Takao, and congrats on your finish!

Throughout the last half of the course, runners and non-race hikers were telling me what position I was in. Most of them said 11th place, but I was hoping for a top 10 finish. As I entered the last aid station, the volunteers were telling me that Hal wasn't moving very fast. Interesting. Further down the trail, a hiker said that one of the runners ahead of me was cramping real bad. Very interesting. Soon enough, I found myself catching up to Hal. He was taking his sweet-ass time on the technical scree-covered trail, and I wondered what pains he was dealing with. After passing him, I immediately caught up with another runner who was dealing with severe calf cramping. After dishing him a salt pill, I pressed on. The whole race I dreaded the final climb back up Multnomah Falls, and the trail was getting close. I really hope the last climb doesn't destroy me.

Beginning the climb up the Multnomah Falls switchbacks, the body felt capable, but drained. Alternating between running and hiking switchbacks, I soon looked down the trail and found that Jonathan the Canadian was catching up to me. Shit! Priding myself on my ability to endure a sustained climb, I was disappointed in my decision to hike. Maybe the fear of blowing up kept me from pushing myself, or maybe my comfort in 9th place had made it acceptable for me to let someone catch up to me. Whatever it was, I erred on the side of conservative and alternated the running and hiking. With 1 mile left to climb, I passed another runner. With 3/4 left to climb, Jonathan passed me. My calves were borderline cramping, but the climb was soon over. At the top of the climb, I felt sluggish and unambitious. The beginning of the 2 mile descent was uncomfortable, but my body fell into a groove and pounded a strong downhill while trying not to wipe out on the hairpin switchback turns. Passing Mario Mendoza, he was walking down the mountain with a dejected look on his face after he "ate shit" earlier. No doubt he was contending for 1st place before his crash, and I hope he didn't injure himself. That guy is fast as shit. (He would later go on to win the Peterson Ridge 20 miler 2 weeks later).

Wahkeena Falls, 8th place with ~2 miles to go.
Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.

Photo by Master Glenn Tachiyama.

The last mile of the course is exposed and straight, making it possible to see Jonathan running a 1/2 mile ahead of me. Too far for me to catch. No one was anywhere close to behind me, and all I had to do was keep a strong pace and not cramp. When the finish line came into view, I made a B-line for James Varner for a super hug.

RESULTS: 3:46:19, 8th out of 281 Finishers

PACE: Somewhere between 7:30 and 8:00 min/mile
PR by 10 minutes
Holy Crap, I'll take it!

SUPER HUG! Photo by Renee Seker.

Thank you James Varner and Candice Burt for organizing another awesome event! Your Rainshadow Running races are some of the most beautiful (and difficult) races in the Northwest, and I'm excited to do more of them. I'm particularly eager to running Angel's Staircase and Yakima Skyline Rim...maybe next year! My 2013 schedule is pretty booked as it is. Thanks again for everything!!!

Thank you Todd and Renee for driving out to the Gorge to support me, I'm grateful to have you as friends. And thanks Renee for taking my breath away, as usual. Go Team NSPiRE! You're a big reason for turning my 2012 into a smiley face, and for believing in my potential as both a runner and hugging advocate. Love you!

Thanks Trailbutter for the breakfast! You are becoming a constant in both my training and racing nutrition, and I'm okay with that. You'll come in handy at the Zane Grey 50 miler, for sure (though, I better pull a Hafid and store the butta' in my checked luggage. It's totally worth checking your luggage for).

Thank you Float Shoppe for helping relieve my pre-race anxiety! I've never been so worked up about a race before (maybe the elite field had me excited), but floating the night before the race helped calm my nerves and settle my heart rate a bit. As usual, it was Lovey-dovey.

And finally, Thank you Glenn Tachiyama and Takao Suzuki for the photos! It's always great to see you two!

PETERSON RIDGE RUMBLE - APRIL 14, 2013

Congrats Kyle Chaffin on your 20-minute PR at the Peterson Ridge Rumble 20-mile race! It was great to share laughs with you and Nicole afterwards. Kyle and Nicole, I Love you both unconditionally, despite the sass.

Yeah buddy! Photo by Master Glenn Tachiyama.

Hot stuff coming through! Photo by Master Glenn Tachiyama.

FINAL WORDS

BOSTON

Colbert couldn't have said it any better. Boston, you have my thoughts and prayers. The way that Boston, and the rest of the country, responded to the tragedy has truly given me hope. There's hope that despite the evil that exists in this world, people are inherently good and are willing to help one another with complete selflessness, concern, and compassion. If you haven't told your friends/family how much you Love them, now would be a good time. And don't ever stop reminding them.

Boston Marathon 2011

I Love you all!

Cheers,

Jbob

Hagg Lake, Two Races, and a Half Gallon of Beer - Hagg Lake 50K & 25K, February 16th/17th

I won't start the race in the porto this year. I won't start the race in the porto this year. I won't... - Pre-race Mantra

Morning Sun at Hagg Lake.
Photo by Jennifer Love.

THE HAGG LAKE TRAIL

Muddy. Muddy. Muddy. Muddy....except this year! The trail around Hagg Lake is infamously known as a soul-sucking, shoe-stealing, groin-pulling, mud-in-my-mouth-and-face-and-oh-shit-it's-everywhere kind of conditions. However, this year was a prime exception, and the weather leading up to the race was unusually sunny and dry. This meant that the 50K would have one of the fastest courses ever in the race's 12-year history.

THE MINDSET

It's early in the season, and Hagg Lake was to be my fitness test. After 2 weeks of tapering, my body was maxed out on potential energy. Mentally, my mind was prepared to greet pain with a smile and to push hard for a sub-4 hour finish in the 50k race. All that mattered was that I run my race and go as fast as my legs could carry me. If someone else's legs were faster, then good on them. Finishing a race can mean just as much (or even more) than winning a race if you surpass your own expectations, and my expectations were based on feeling more than time. There's a fine line that I've been trying to find between endurance and speed, and neither the clock nor music are going to tell me where it is.

Pre-race shimmy. The Zags are so hot right now.
Photo by Paul Nelson.

HAGG LAKE 50K - SATURDAY

With a jig in my head, a fire in my heart, and after 3 trips to the porto, it was time to line up at the starting line. Friends were everywhere, either racing, spectating, race directing, or photographing. After countless hugs, smiles, and words of encouragement, the race began.

3...2...1...COWBELL

Jacob Puzey in Red, I'm at the right in the green bandana.
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

Quickly positioning myself with the front of the pack, there were about 5 of us running together as we started the 1.5 mile out-n-back. The first 1.5 miles were a gradually uncomfortable uphill dirt road, the steepest and longest climb of the course. After a half mile, Jacob Puzey and I were the only ones within chatting distance as we pulled ahead of everyone else. Nice guy! After the turnaround, Jacob just took off back down the hill faster than I dared to run (his long stride helped). It would have been nice to run with him, but there was no way I could keep his pace without detrimental consequences. My goal wasn't to get first place, so there were no reservations in letting him go. Just loneliness...*sigh*...

Lovin it!
Photo by Long Run
Picture Company

After passing the Start/Finish area at the 3-mile mark, I picked up my water bottle and began Lap 1 of 2 around Hagg Lake. Puzey was well ahead at this point, but still within sight. The runners behind me were far enough away that I couldn't hear them, but they weren't out-of-mind. The thought of being chased was more motivating at this point in the race, for I was determined to make it 'a bitch' for anyone to keep up with me. So every hill was a tempo sprint to the top, as the trail around the lake was filled with many short climbs in rolling fashion. Hills are my strength, and I often try to use it to gain ground on those runners who are faster than me on the flat sections of the course. At least, that was the strategy.

Photo by Long
Run Picture Company.

At the dam (4 miles into the race), Puzey was already a half mile ahead of me. Hot dam! It made no sense for me to look back and see who was behind me at this point in the race, so my eyes were fixed on the path ahead...and then the GU in my hand...and then the pretty lake view...and then back to the path. Arriving at the dam Aid Station, the garbage can was lacking a plastic trash bag, so I took my empty GU packet and THREW IT ON THE GROUND, thinking that the aid station volunteers were just slow at inserting the plastic trash bag. Nope. There was trash in the trash can, and I threw my garbage on the ground, right in front of an Aid Station volunteer. I felt like a royal ass. I vowed to right the wrong on the second lap, and tried not to let it affect my race.

Running strong, accelerating up the hills, coasting the downhills, floating the flats...things were going smooth. No one in front of me, no one behind me...just me, baby. Arriving at the first timing check point, I took another empty GU packet and THREW IT ON THE GROUND! (with permission from Cole).

16K SPLIT: 1:08:48

PACE: 6:55 min/mile

Photo by Long Run
Picture Company.

My legs were feeling great, and passing the early start runners gave me a little boost. It's not so much the passing of the runners that helped, but more so the interactions with them. There was a lot of kindness on the trail as the early start runners stepped to the side, cracked a little joke, smiled, and said words of encouragement. Thank you for sharing a moment with me during the race, you have my respect for having to endure the race for longer than I did.

The first lap around Hagg Lake ended at the Start/Finish area, and there was lots of cheering. Joe Uhan clocked Puzey at 7 minutes ahead of me. Wow, he must be in a hurry. Running to my drop bag, my shirt fell off as I began chugging a can of C2O Coconut Water (sponsorship, please). After switching water bottles, I took off for the final lap around Hagg Lake.

HALFWAY: 1:56:54

PACE: 7:02 min/mile

"How far ahead?"
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

Gratuitous partial nudity and C2O Coconut Water.
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

The beginning lap 2 felt exactly like the beginning of lap 1, which surprised me. The legs were still strong, still able to bound uphill, and I was in no need of a potty break anytime soon. Even with 200 runners on the trail, the ground stayed firm and fast. Arriving at the dam for the second time, the short road section provided a prime opportunity to suck down another GU. After psyching myself up to actually throw my GU wrapper in the trash can this time, I turn my head and see a runner behind me ~100ft. I didn't stare (that's rude), so I had no idea who the hell had the audacity to catch up to me...but it definitely got me running. Zooming by the Aid Station without stopping (except to politely throw my GU packet in the trash), my pace increased. Shit. Shit. Shit. Can I sustain this pace? Did he stop at the aid station? Shit. Ugh, why can't this ever be easy? Oh yeah, because I Love this shit. I guess. Crap, my legs are feeling stressed. Ok, ok. Run your race. Don't let him push you. Just run strong, and if he pulls ahead, push like crazy and catch him in the last 5 miles. But until then, run your own damn race. Let HIM work to catch you, don't make a mistake and blow up too soon. Keep calm and carry on, son! So with that little pep talk, my pace went from 'frantic' back to 'comfortably uncomfortable'. He hadn't caught me yet, so there was no reason for me to panic. For the next several miles, finish line scenarios were running through my head. Could I hold him off?

39K SPLIT: 2:49:00

PACE: 6:59 min/mile

Neil Olsen: 45 seconds back

Half mile left.
Photo by John Spencer.

Throughout the race, my nutrition was mainly GU energy gels and Hammer Endurolytes (salt pills). The stomach stayed solid, and everything generally felt good. But after passing the 39K mark, things started to fade a little bit. My peripheral vision got fuzzy, and the fuzziness creeped closer and closer to my center of vision. After quickly downing a GU, I then grabbed a couple salt pills and ingested one after the other. My pace slowed a little as my body recovered, and thankfully my vision went back to normal. Come on baby, hold to together.


Coming into the last aid station (4.5 miles from the finish), I made only my second stop of the race to have my bottle filled with a combination of water and electrolytes (GU brew). Neil Olsen entered the aid station as I was leaving, and thus began the final push to the finish. If I had anything left, this was the time to leave it all out there. My hamstrings were tight as hell and slightly quivering on the uphills, and I popped my last salt pill to hopefully keep them from totally cramping. There were plenty of opportunities to look behind me and gauge Neil's hunting skills, but I kept my head forward until one of the final landmarks of the course. Arriving at the Parking lot C (half a mile from the finish), good guy John Spencer was course marshaling and shouting some words of encouragement.

John: Yeah Buddy! One hell of a PR!
Me: Is Anyone behind me?
John: Not that I can see!
Me: Thank God.

A quarter-mile from the finish, I look behind me one last time and saw nobody. WHOO-OO! The finish line came into view, and people started cheering. It was impossible to tell, but they were telling me to HURRY UP! After crossing the finish line, I figured out why. The 3rd fastest course time in Hagg Lake history was 3:41:53 set by Andy Martin in 2010, and I happened to break it.

RESULTS: 3:40:53, 2nd out of 190 Finishers

PACE: 7:06 min/mile

PR by 38 minutes

3rd Fastest Course Time in Race History

"What was my time?!"
Above Photos by Long Run Picture Company.

As soon as I crossed the finish line, my hamstrings painfully seized, and I went down easy. As I lay there, people told me all the fun facts about the race. The funnest fact being that the only Jacob Puzey (3:24:22, 2013) and Max King (3:26:54, 2010) have ran a faster course times. Okay, I'm happy with that. Neil Olsen crossed the finish line a few minutes later, but I was still lying on the ground soaking everything in. There are few moments in our lives where we can say that we did everything we could with the time we had, and this was one of them. I didn't ever want to forget this feeling.

Congrats to Jacob Puzey (3:24:22) and Andrea Jarzombek-Holt (4:07:10) for setting the new men's and women's course records! Incredible times!

Now, time to recover for the 25k the next day.

Hagg Lake ice bath.
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

RECOVERY AT THE FLOAT SHOPPE

After the 50k, my legs were quite sore and my hamstrings felt like guitar strings that were strung too tight and played way too hard. That evening, I went to the Float Shoppe for a 90-minute float to help recover. The whole float experience involves floating in a tub of water with 1,000 lbs of dissolved Epsom salts, providing sensory deprivation and total body calmness. While floating, the body absorbs the magnesium from the Epsom salts, which helps flush the lactic acid from tired muscles. And floating not only helps relax the body, but it also gives the mind a chance to take a break from everything. They say one 90-minute float is like the equivalent of getting 7 hours of sleep, and the effects can be felt immediately afterwards. More information lives here.

Tranquility

Having floated several times before, my experience has been extremely positive. But I had never tried floating this soon after a hard run to help increase my 24-hour recovery period. Would my hamstrings loosen up? Would the soreness go away? After my 90-minute float, my body was still considerably sore...however, my body also felt as if it just had a full night's rest, and my mind was way above the clouds. It's hard to really explain the experience without trying it yourself, but all I can say is that there's a lot of good that comes from floating, both physically and mentally.

For me, floating most often becomes a time for self reflection and allows me to cut out the distractions of everyday life to focus on what matters most. Whether I'm recovering from a high mileage week or preparing for the next race, the Float Shoppe has played a significant role in relieving the physical and mental stresses of life to allow me to maximize my training efforts.

HAGG LAKE 25K - SUNDAY

Deja vu.

Sunbeams at the race start. Photo by myPhone.

Caption Contest.
Photo by Long Run
Picture Company.

Man oh man, only 25K to go before I get rewarded with a growler of beer for doing both the 50K (Saturday) and 25K (Sunday)! The only thing that worried me were my hamstrings, which were still super tight. The key to this run was pure survival, especially since all my legs could muster was a warm up shuffle to and from the Portos. There were several other running buddies out there who were also doing the Hagg Lake double, and we all shared each others pain. Misery Loves company. And growlers.


3...2...1...EVERYDAY I'M SHUFFLIN'

Running with
Hugh Davis.
Photo by Long Run
Picture Company.

As soon as the race started, I had to slow down and let most of the runners pass-on by. My hamstrings were still too tight for me to keep up with the main group, and I was shuffling for a good half mile. Eventually, my hamstrings started to loosen up and allow me to run a bit faster. For the first part of the race, I found myself running with Hugh Davis and Megan Bruce. Reaching the dam, my stride opened up a little bit and I started to accelerate...straight to the Porto. Ahhh. After taking care of business, I opened the Porto door and *WHAM*, totally nailed a woman with the door as she was running by. After asking if she was alright and rightfully apologizing for almost knocking her unconscious with a Porto door, I ran ahead and caught up with Jerry Mark for a bit.

Not before too long, the lap around the lake was nearly over. Being able to run with people was a nice change from Saturday, and the time flew by. My legs had loosened up nicely since the start of the race, and it was surprising how well I felt by the end of it. You know you're an ultrarunner when you become less sore after running 15 miles.

RESULTS: 2:19:10, 51st out of 288 Finishers

PACE: 8:57 min/mile

Sporting the Limited Edition Todd Janssen T-shirt (still in stock!).
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

Let the celebrating begin.

Many (but not all) of the Hagg Lake Doublers.

THANK YOU

Thank you Race Directors and Volunteers. This race was well organized, well stocked, and full of amazing support. The grilled cheese sandwiches after the race were amazing, and the post-race environment was incredibly comfortable and social. Job well done, I can't wait for next year! (And the roses in the Portos were a nice touch).

And thank you to Michael Lebowitz and the photographers taking excellent race photos for the Long Run Picture Company. Without your photos, this blog would be lifeless.


SHOUT OUTS

NSPiRE

Before too long, they'll turn ultrarunning into a true spectator sport. 

The crazy NSPiRE setup.
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

No chip-timing system can compare to the system that NSPiRE introduced at this race. Throughout the race, live updates were broadcasted online, updated on my Facebook/Twitter accounts, and available on the NSPiRE mobile App. As runners crossed the finish line, the results were instantly displayed on large TV screens like it was something out of NASCAR. I can't wait to see what else the come up with.

Thank you Team NSPiRE for your all your support and encouragement over the past year. I'm proud to make you proud.

Thanks Eric & Kelly Barten, Todd Jannsen, Chad Brown, Doyle Boyd, and Renee Seker!
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

TRAILBUTTER

This stuff is so good, one bite and you'll be speaking a romance language. Mmm...Holy crap this is f*ing delicious! (Pardon my French).

Baby, I'm gonna trailbutter your bread.
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

Spreading it on DKB while riding
to Idaho to pace Randy at the
IMTUF 100.

I've been using Trailbutter (and Dave's Killer Bread) as my pre-run breakfast since last Fall, and it's consistently helped me run with a satisfied stomach and a body full of energy. The key Trailbutter ingredients are almonds, peanuts, and hazelnuts mixed with a blend of dried fruits, seeds, nectar, honey, and precious oils. The result is a slow-burning, healthy fuel that can be easily spread on bread, dipped with pretzels, or eaten straight with a spoon (done it).

Here's a list of the ingredients from one of my favorite flavors, Expedition Espresso): Dry-Roasted Almonds, Hazelnuts, Peanuts, Bitter-sweet Chocolate Chunks, Coconut Oil, Clover Honey, Ground Coffee Beans, Soy Lecithin, Golden Flax Seeds, Ground Vanilla Beans, Sea Salt.

Jeff Boggess, co-founder and life enthusiast, will be sampling Trailbutter at many local trail races. If you're signed up for the Portland Trail Series, NW Mountain Trail Series, most of the Oregon Trail Series, or Trailfactor races, chances are Jeff will be there. Be sure to try some! You can also order Trailbutter from their website or at select retail locations.

Great guy, Jeff Boggess.
Photo by Long Run Picture Company.

FINAL WORDS

Knowing the YMCA could save your life someday.



Much Love,

Jbob