The Leadville 100

Ever since I started running ultramarathons a few years back, this has been on the bucket-list. Western States, Hardrock, Wasatch, UTMB, Leadville - all iconic hundreds - it's definitely up there as one of the must-do 100 mile foot races. 

I raced the MTB course back when I was on 2 wheels. The atmosphere, the beauty of the area, the crazy altitude - all above 10,000ft, and the incredible pre-race pep talk by race series founder Ken Chlouber, were all a big draw to get back to Leadville. To try to earn the esteemed run big buckle, to match my bike big buckle attained on my 'hardest day ever on the bike', a big effort was needed. Sub 25 hours for the Run buckle - definitely within my reach, I thought.

This year, I lined up with 1000 other aspirants. 4am, 6th & Harrison. Amidst the almost palpable nervous energy, there was an electric atmosphere. Saira photographed me standing there waiting to start. To say I look a little anxious is an understatement! Settling in to start a 100 mile foot race is an indescribable feeling, like stepping off into the unknown. You know that the next 24 or more hours is going to bring with it pain and elation, but there's always a nagging doubt. I doubt these thoughts ever go, even with more experience. Have I trained enough, is my gear right, did I eat enough last night, did I eat enough this morning, how is my stomach going to be after 10 hours of gels and gu? But as the gun goes off, and I cruise away with the lead pack, the nerves are gone, and I try to soak in the atmosphere. It's incredible. 6th avenue, Leadville, is lined with people, despite the ungodly hour. We ease into the race, gently downhill at first. The Rocky theme music blares out from a front garden, drunken all-nighters cheering us on. And then it's quiet, save for my breathing and the footsteps of my racing companions as we pad down the Boulevard.

Soon we pass Sugar Loafin' campground. My family are all there, with high fives and cheers. It's a great felling. And then it's all quiet again. We hit the single track of Turquoise Lake in good time. Is this pace too fast? Hard to know. The months of training and the long taper have left me strong and ready. The pace feels easy, deceptively easy, but it's great to run with the top guys. Ryan Sandes, a past winner, Scott Jurek, the legend. Ian Sharman jokes that Nick Clarke is trying to drop him already, their third 100 of the Grand Slam.

Turquoise Lake flies by, then the madness at May Queen! It's like the Alps in the Tour de France. Hundreds line the course, all blinding me with their headlamps as support crews strain to find their runner. 'Dad, dad!!' I hear and I'm with my crew. A fresh bottle, 2 new gels and I'm gone in 20 seconds. Feeling good, now we start to climb. I relish the run up the Colorado trail. Little do I know how I will hate this later, but for now it's all grins, and easy aerobic climbing. I consciously run easy, taking care not to roll an ankle in the half light. My friend and pacer Wade Jarvis once remarked - 'rocks don't move when you kick them here'. 

Soon, daylight arrives. The views from the top of the infamous Powerline trail are inspiring. In the distance, Hope Pass peers back, but for now, I take care to watch my footing, and try to hold back as we roll down the Powerline trail. This is not the time to trash the quads. After a short spell on pavement I hit the Outward Bound Aid station, right on schedule. I'm loosely following a 20 hour pacing schedule. I arrive on the minute. Another quick top up by my pit crew, words of encouragement and warnings to stay within myself. 

The next section is pavement. It sucks. I'm not a road runner and I find the harsh surface painful. I feel like I'm fuelling well. A marathon completed, only 3 more to go. Then it's a long and hot gradual climb. The day is getting warm and the trail feels harder than it looks. I start to feel a little fatigue set in, so I plug in the headphones, and start eating. The gels are going down OK, and the music spurs me on. Upbeat tunes from my run playlist take my mind off the hard effort. Soon, I am through the Pipeline Aid station and climbing the Colorado trail again past the Mt Elbert trailhead. It is a beautiful section of trail. Trees shade me, and despite the tough climbing, I am feeling good. 'Stand up for the Champions' comes through my earbuds. This really gets me going! An old Transrockies theme song! I whoop out loud, loving the whole experience.

And soon I am descending from my favourite section of trail so far, and then in a flash it's a steep, loose technical drop in to Twin Lakes. The atmosphere is rousing, with music, cheering and eager volunteers. I feel great, running well, seemingly fuelling well. 40 miles down.

I sit briefly and eat, and grab my pack, with 2 fresh bottles. I take a jacket for the double crossing of Hope Pass, undoubtedly the crux of this race. It may be cold up top, and the weather can change in a flash. A storm at 12,600 feet without a jacket would be no fun. I also decide to take trekking poles. A bit of a hassle to carry on the flats, even though they are as light as it gets, but I know from past experience that I will not regret having poles on the long descent into Winfield, 10 miles away. My wife Saira warns me to take it easy. She has seen me hit the wall in races, and is keen for me to keep the effort modest. My pit crew are dialled in. They know what I need, and Saira knows what to say to me. My two sons are a great motivation, with their enthusiasm and smiles, and they quickly fill me in on who's leading the race, and how I am doing. My pacer Wade tells me I am pushing towards the top ten. In the past I have cramped at this point in races, but today I know that I have been conservative in my early pace, and there isn't a hint of cramping. Even so, I take a glug of salty pickle juice, my go-to remedy! Then I am off, eager to get across the only wet section of the course. I know the cool creek crossing will feel good, and will breathe some life into my legs, and it does.

The climb up Hope Pass is slow, although I manage to run the flatter sections. The poles are a great help, but even so it is harder than I remember from my recce a few days earlier. It seems steeper and longer. I am passed by a couple of runners on this section and I try not to get negative. This is a long race and a lot can happen later. I listen to more music and march on up, as quick a pace as I can muster. A breeze picks up and a few drops of rain fall as I reach the meadow of the Hopeless Aid station, but the rain never amounts to more than a few drops. And it's true, there really are llamas grazing up here, having carried up the supplies for the aid station! Friendly volunteers cheer me on, and soon I am over the top, breathing well at 12,600 feet. The vista is inspiring. I stop briefly to enjoy the view, then back to business, cautiously dropping down the steep switchbacks. I'm feeling good again. No blisters despite the wet socks and my shoes will soon be dry. The trail feels incredibly steep, and the poles provide security on some of the turns. Near the bottom of the climb the lead runners come by me on their return journey. It takes my mind off the running as I watch them come by. Michael Aish, in the lead, looks spent. Then Ian Sharman and Nick Clarke, both looking good. Then a grinning Hal Koerner, pacing a tired looking Scott Jurek. Pretty cool to be racing these guys, I think!

A few more miles of rocky trail and I drop into Winfield. It feels like a furnace down here. I have been running for nine hours, right on pace. I am hurriedly weighed and I have dropped 6 lbs in weight. But I feel fine, and I know I am drinking well. Drink to thirst, Noakesy says, and that's what I am doing! No need to worry about the weight loss. My crew are there again, as efficient and motivating as always, tending to my needs, restocking my gels, filling my bottles, asking all the right questions; and this time I have the added boost of picking up my chosen companion for the return trip - Wade Jarvis, a 10 time Leadville veteran. 'OK, let's take 'er in!' exclaims Wade. I whoop again as we leave the station. 'Let's go to Leadville, bud!' And we are off, running at first, trying to digest the calories I've just stuffed in. I glug on a red bull; I need all the help I can get for this return leg, I think. 'Gives me wings!' I remark to Wade, as we hit the climb. I have ditched my pack, as Wade is my mule for the trip back up and over. All I carry is my poles and a single bottle. I feel light, and climb starts well. 

Halfway up, the fatigue starts to set in. I find myself needing to stop. I sit for a few moments, and it feels good. The climb seems unbelievably steep, and it is hot, hot, hot. The trail is narrow, and the runners still descending are considerate and jump out of our way, but even so, it irritates me that we have to pass. There is plenty of encouragement, and Wade seems to know half the field. 'Hey, Wade!', 'Jarvis, how's it going man!'

 We cross a couple of small creeks and I douse my visor and face in the cool water. It helps, but I know I am struggling now. The first woman, Ashley Arnold, passes. She looks fresh, and is grinning widely! Impressive, I think, as I struggle to keep moving. I feel slightly nauseous. Wade realizes I'm in trouble and hands me 2 gels - get these down, but I gag, and it's an ordeal. 

This is not good, I think. I sit a few switchbacks down from the top of the pass. 'OK, Wade', I say, 'let's not worry about splits, now, I don't care about my time.' 

I've entered that dark place again, that only ultra runners know. Deep negativity, intense pain, a strong desire to stop, lie down, give up, and take a car ride home. It happens in every long race at some point. It's a feeling of utter misery, and hard to describe - but I've been there a few times now, and I have learnt to accept it, in the knowledge that surely it will pass. 'Just keep plodding, it'll get better', I tell myself. A couple of high fives from familiar faces at the top of the pass, spurs me on, and then we are dropping. My toes feel sore, and my legs are tired, but what can I expect, I'm almost 60 miles in! The Hopeless Aid station looks like a refugee camp. It's a zoo, with myriads of exhausted looking runners milling about. Wade hurries me on and we descend well. We cruise down steadily, and I feel like I'm still running well on the descents; I am feeling more optimistic, but asmwe hit the flats again, I am slowed to a walk. This time the creek provides little relief as we cross. We plod into Twin Lakes, and I am beat. My kids are there, worried that I am off pace, and they jog slowly in with me to the aid station. I feel utterly done now, and I think about dropping. I have tears in my eyes as I slump into my seat. 'I am in a bad place right now' I say quietly to Saira, and I am not sure if she hears me.

It's a beautiful spot to sit - the view is fantastic, and I contemplate what I've just done. The hardest bit really is over now, but there are still 40 miles left to cover. The 20 hour goal seems to have gone now, and i don't care. I sit there, and enjoy the break. Saira feeds me food, lots of food. Turkey, avocado, mandarins, pickle juice, grapes. Ginger ale tastes like heaven, I greedily glug. I eat, and eat, and sit there for what seems like an eternity. I'm enjoying the view and the rest, but Wade looks anxious to get going. I have been passed by a whole bunch of runners as I sit and gorge myself, but I don't really care. Saira leans over. 

'Listen……. you need to HTFU right now!' 

I cannot believe what I just heard, but it spurs me into action! My kids ask me if I'm dropping, looking worried. I reassure them I'll get to Leadville, even if I have to crawl. I down a quick coffee, some noodle soup, and we are out. It is steep hiking for a while, no running, for which I am glad, as my belly needs to time to deal with what's just hit it! We climb for 1000ft out of Twin Lakes, and as we turn onto the single track of the Colorado trail, I start to feel good. I start to jog, and soon I am running the ups again. I realise Wade is struggling to keep up a bit. 'You OK?' I call back. 'Fine! You look good, keep going, don't wait, I'll catch you!' he calls back, so I plug in the music and get going. And soon I am flying! It is a seemingly miraculous turn around. The calories and fluids have kicked in. My legs feel fine, and I relish the quick pace. The trail is beautiful, and it angles slightly downhill for miles. I start passing runners. I pass 4, 5, 6 runners and pacers. I see more ahead, and it spurs me on. I pick up my pace, and soon I am logging 8 minute miles. 'Keep this up' I tell myself, as I know it will likely pass. There is no sign of Wade, but I have a bottle and a few gels, and I grab more as I pass through an aid station, stopping only briefly this time. I estimate I pass 10 runners in total on this leg, and I feel on fire as I hit the pavement. The 8 and 9 minute miles continue. More great tunes, and then I see my kids, jumping excitedly half a mile out from Outward Bound. I bring it in fast, with my sons breathing hard beside me. They are amazed by my pace. 'Where's Wade?!' a surprised Saira shouts, jumping up, as I come in sooner than expected. I explain he's dropped and I haven't seen him in ages. I grab my light, stuff in more calories, and I'm off again, heading towards the dreaded Powerline climb. I'm 77 miles in, and I am loving every minute again. 'Find me a new pacer for the next leg!' I shout as I leave, and it's back to business, as the temperature starts to cool and evening sets in.

The Powerline climb flies by. I manage to run large chunks of the steep climb, and I pass several more runners. I chat to an friendly italian runner for a while as I power-hike up. But soon he drops back, and I march on as I want to summit before dark. I am almost at the top when I put on my light for the first time. I started in the dark at 4am this morning, have run through a whole day and now it is night again. A bizarre feeling. I am slowing but my progress is good. I feel a blister starting on my left heel and wish I had changed into dry socks at Outward Bound. The descent down the Hagerman Pass road seems to take an eternity, and I worry I have missed a turn but soon I see the flagging, and I drop sharply into the woods. I revelled in this section of trail earlier in the day, at first light, but it is a brute with fatigued legs and brain, and in the pitch black. It is impossible to find a rhythm and I can barely get running. I stub my toes over and over again - Wade was right - these rocks don't move when you kick them! I wince at the pain, knowing I have some black toenails to look forward to later on. The lack of rhythm is tiring, and after what seems like an eternity I stagger into May Queen Aid and take a chair.

I meet my new pacer - Anne from Silverton Colorado. She was here supporting another runner, but heard I needed a pacer, and very generously offered to 'run' the last leg with me. She is a fast road runner, and is no doubt looking forwards to a pleasant run back to Leadville. As I try to stuff down some noodles and more ginger ale, I tell her that I doubt there will be much running, judging with how I am feeling, but she's still game. A brave soul, offering to take over pacing duties with someone she's never met, 87 miles into the run. This could get ugly I warn her! My wife and Wade have the unenviable job of patching up the blister on my left heel, but I enjoy the break and fuel up.

Anne and I set off and for the first 3 miles along Turquoise Lake I feel OK. We manage to jog most of it. But then I'm walking again. I feel nauseous and am pretty sure I am going to vomit. Anne is great, she chats to me, and encourages me to jog short sections. She lives near the Hardrock 100 course, has never run a 100 miler , but would like to some day. I tell her I need to stop, and then I'm vomiting and wrenching - first time ever in an ultra for me. I feel better for a while - 'Anne, if this doesn't put you off running 100, then nothing will,' I joke. We shuffle, jog, and walk along the shore. It really is a beautiful night and lake is still and glinting in the moonlight, and for I while I enjoy the view. But I now repeatedly kick rocks, and my toes feel terrible. I apologize to Anne. I don't think she signed up for a midnight 10 mile walk.

At Tabor Boat ramp, Saira and Wade are there. I need to sit down, but I hear Wade tell Saira - 'Don't let him sit, he needs to keep going', so we are quickly coaxed out. Saira gives me some ginger ale in my bottle to try to settle the stomach. Anne gives me an electrolyte cap, and we continue our march.

Then we are dropping steeply down loose ground and beginning the final push past Sugar Loafin' (where my trailer is parked - and my bed - and it's very tempting as I shuffle by!) and onto The Boulevard. I remember flying effortlessly down here this morning, and it didn't feel too long, but now, it is interminable! It's uphill and it is never ending. We get passed by a strong looking runner. I am keeping up a good hiking pace, but I just cannot run. Anne and I chat, and she does a stellar job at keeping my mind off the effort. Eventually the lights of Leadville appear, and there we are, on 6th, turning the corner by the High School. More uphill, but now I can see the finish. Less than a mile to go.

At this point in a race, all pain fades away, and you become possessed. A jolt of Adrenaline kicks in, and weary limbs fire up again. The finish line becomes the focus of everything. My mind blurs, and all memory of what's gone before disappears. I am on auto pilot now, 'bringing' 'er in' as Wade would say. Then my 2 boys are beside me, and we are running. Saira and Wade are alongside us. Anne tries to disappear, but we don't let her - she is a part of this now.

Then I'm on the red carpet, and we are done. The relief is immense. I cannot believe I have walked the last 10 miles. Mary Lynn hugs me, as she does all finishers, and I receive my medal. I am hurried to the medical tent, where I am weighed - I've gained 4 lbs since Winfield, only 3 lbs down on my starting weight. My timing chip is cut off and I lie down. My family tend to me, and as usual the shivers set in, but I have a huge blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Wade and I joke - he cannot believe I dropped him, and I apologize, but I guess when you feel good in a race like this you just have to go 

with it.

When all said and done, despite the 10 mile walk, I finished in 24th place overall, with a time of 21 hours and 33 mins. I am very proud of my effort, and the next day I receive my belt buckle, a large one, to compliment my Leadville bike large buckle. A little over 400 people finished the race, a testament to it's difficulty. Race winner Ian Sharman ran the 4th fastest time ever on this course in 16 hours 30 mins.Just incredible. When I look at the splits, I see that ultra legend Scott Jurek, was only a few minutes faster than me on the May Queen inward leg. I guess, I wasn't the only one in a world of hurt!

Leadville has been criticized by some, for the organization at Winfield, and the difficulties crews had in accessing aid stations. For me, I was up front, so this didn't affect me, and it is sad to read that some had a less than ideal experience. The volunteers were nothing but helpful. Leadville is a beautiful race, steeped in history, and has perhaps become somewhat a victim of it's own success. It's a runner course for sure, but despite what some say, it's not an easy hundred. Ask the 500 plus runners who dropped. The trail is beautiful - especially Turquoise Lake, the Elbert trail section, and of course the double crossing of Hope Pass. The altitude is a factor not to be underestimated, of course. 

Would I do it again? Absolutely! The pain has faded, and I'm already scanning the ultra sites for more races, planning the next epic!

My Leadville gear

Shoes: Hoka One One Bondi B - Like Forrest Gump said: "Mama says they was magic shoes. They could take me anywhere."

Socks: Injinji 2.0  - comfiest socks ever

Shorts: Lululemon

Visor: Compresssport

Glasses: Oakley

Lamp: Petzl Nao - is there a better light out there?

Bottles: Ultimate Direction

Pack: Ultimate Direction Anton Krupicka race vest

Poles: Black Diamond Ultra poles

Blisters: one

Black toes: two

Pit Crew: huge thanks to Saira, George and Albert for keeping me positive and motivated, both through the long training runs, and the race. Couldn't do it without your support!

Pacers: I'm indebted to Wade Jarvis & Anne Martin, who got me through some pretty low points! I hope I didn't put you off Anne!

Special thanks to Compresssport Canada for the compression wear that has helped me recover!

Technical Adventures in the mountains

At the Castle Mountain Hut 

This weekend, after the rigors of last weekend's quad, was a more leisurely affair. We hiked up to the Castle Mountain hut, perched high on the Goat Plateau of Castle Mountain near Lake Louise. Hike is actually a bit of a misnomer - the first 4km to the Fire Lookout are most definitely a hike, thereafter, most definitely not! A rope, a helmet and some sure footed climbing/scrambling skills are essential. The hut is perched at around 8,000ft in the most incredible spot imaginable. It's a cozy affair, sleeping six at a push, but the weather was stellar, and it was a great adventure.

The Goat Plateau - a sweet run?

On the way down, I conjured up the notion of a sweet run/scramble - start at the Fire Lookout trailhead, run and climb up to the hut on the plateau, it's totally solo-able if you're a mountain type, run along the base of Bass buttress, Brewers Buttress, Eisenhower Tower, then scramble down from the Dragon's back to the Rockbound Lake trail - exposed in places on the downclimb, but no rope needed. From there, it would be a fast blast down to the Rockbound Lake trailhead, and back along the road to the start. This is definitely on the list now.

The upper part of the gully before the plateau 

Albert on the chilly downclimb this morning

Typical situation in the gully

The Canmore Quad take 2

I had a go at the Canmore Quad 2 years ago. My preparation wasn't ideal. I'd had a big week already, and really I only decided to tag along with Phil Villeneuve on his attempt, the day before. As a result, my already fatigued legs weren't up to this pretty brutal day. I completed the first two summits, Grotto and Lady Mac, then dropped half way up EEOR. Phil completed the round in easily the fastest known time (FKT) to date. For those who don't know the details of the enchainment, here are the details:

To complete the quad, you must summit Grotto Mountain (2706m), Lady MacDonald (2605m), the East End of Rundle (EEOR - 2571m) and Ha Ling peak (2408m) in one continuous effort, running or hiking the whole way. Apparently it's only been completed a handful of times. Phil Villeneuve's time of 11h 02m is by far the fastest link-up to date. Lots of people have attempted the route, and failed; I also know of attempts that have utilized car or bicycle transport between trailheads. For me, the true Quad, is a pure run/hike, and must start and finish in the same place. 

Anyone who has visited Canmore has seen these peaks, as they dominate the town. Apart from Grotto, I have summited all of the peaks many times. Grotto is a real grunt, and the least attractive of all the trails, and my only time on top was during the previous attempt.

This year, I was determined to have a crack at Phil's record. 2 years earlier, we had spent around a half hour sitting around eating lunch, so I knew a faster time was possible, with good planning and support.

The day started early at 6:30am. The weather forecast was great, and I hoped to bag the first couple of summits before it got too hot. I felt well rested. I am in my final prep for the Leadville 100 trail run in Colorado mid August, so I have never felt more prepared.

Due to recent flooding, the trail access to Grotto was a little more complex than usual, and I messed around a little to find the right trail, but eventually I found myself on familiar terrain and began the grunt up the incredibly steep and loose switchbacks on Grotto. I settled in for a steady, fast hike. It's easy to go too fast early on, so I purposely held back the pace some. Once you get above tree-line the route eases and the ridge to the summit is a fantastic journey, with technical running, sections of easy scrambling, and fantastic vistas in all directions. It's a shame the approach is so difficult, as this is a beautiful stretch of terrain. I hit the summit in 1h 53m, ahead of schedule, took a quick snap, then headed back along the ridge. The descent down Grotto is just as heinous as the climb, and I was very glad of my poles (Black Diamond Ultra poles) to spare the knees and quads. Soon I was racing along the Alpine club trails to the Cougar Creek crossing, where after a quick dip in the cool waters, I was heading off up the second climb of the day, Mt. Lady MacDonald.

Lady MacDonald is a pretty innocuous summit when viewed from Canmore, but when you hit the final approach to the summit it becomes a knife edge ridge, with airy and precarious scrambling needed. It looks so tame from town, it's hard to imagine what it is like unless you've been there. In one spot I had one leg either side of the ridge, it was so narrow. Fortunately, the winds were light and the rock bone dry; I wasn't being blown off like Phil, during his attempt. I ditched my poles for the final summit approach and was able to dash along the ridge without mishap. 4h 22m had elapsed as i hit the top. I was feeling great, and happy to have ticked off the two hardest peaks in good time. I was conservative on the descent, knowing what was ahead, but was already starting to feel some quad fatigue by the time I ran into town and headed up Spray Lakes road.

My wife Saira and my sons, George and Albert had driven to the bottom of the Spray Lakes road where I spent around 15 mins refuelling. I downed 2 cokes, ate as much food as I could stomach, and packed my pack for the next leg. I was travelling purposely light, using the Ultimate Direction AK race vest, with 2 bottles up front. For the first 2 peaks I had also carried an extra litre in a bladder, but for peak 3, EEOR, I decided to ditch the bladder. I figured 2 bottles were enough. By the time I had trudged to the EEOR trailhead, however, 5km up an incredibly dusty Spray Lakes road, I had almost finished one bottle. This wasn't good, and the realisation that I was going to run dry, during the hottest climb of the day, started to weigh heavily on me. I know this climb well, and there is a section of relentless loose scree, half way to the top. As I reached it, I was slowing significantly, and realizing I had to ration my water, and how far I still had to go, I ground to a halt. I sat down on some blisteringly hot white limestone and began to contemplate dropping again. This was exactly the spot where I had ditched my previous attempt. 

Reluctantly I dialled my wife, to arrange a pick up: 

"Hey, Saira, I'm dropping out. I'm done. The desire to finish this thing has gone. Can you pick me up?"

Stunned silence……..

"Look, I don't think I can finish this. I'm just exhausted. And I think Phil's record is out of the question"

"Why don't you forget about the record? Hike up slowly and at least get Rundle done. Take it easy for a while. I'm not going to tell you to give up. You really wanted to complete this. Do you really want to have to go through this again?"

It was a good point. I had said an hour earlier, that if I failed, there'd be no more attempts. I'm not one for dropping. I remember once at a pit stop in an eight hour mountain bike race being told to "...get up and get back on your bike. You are teaching your kids that it's OK to quit, and it's not!" 

OK, time to get moving again, I thought.

"I'll call you in a bit, thanks."

I got moving again, and it seemed like the brief break had revived my legs some. Then a couple of hikers with huge packs came down the trail. I asked them if they could spare some water. They had litres between them and were almost at the end of their hike. I filled both bottles to the brim, and with a new sense of determination I got moving again. By now the calories from lunch were kicking in,  and before I knew it I was scrambling through the final exposed rock bands to the summit of EEOR. I texted Saira:

"SUMMIT! HEADING DOWN" 

The time elapsed was 7h 57m. One summit to go, the easiest. I ran strongly off EEOR and soon hit the Spray road again, where Saira was waiting with fresh supplies. This was a fast pit stop, and within a couple of minutes I was jogging through the woody lower trails of Ha Ling peak.

Ha Ling seemed to fly by in a blur. The trail was incredibly busy with hikers and runners. I spoke with a few who asked me what I was up to. One couple remarked that they had seen me running through town several hours earlier. They couldn't believe the enormity of the run, or the stupidity, I guess. I paused on my poles, a couple of hundred feet below the summit to catch my breath. i was working at max effort and must have looked like death. An older hiker, encouraged me:

"Don't worry lad, the hardest is over, you'll be on the top in under 45 minutes"

7 minutes later I summited. The climb had taken around 52 minutes, a decent time, given the distance in my legs already. 9h 37m had passed since I'd started, and I knew that barring mishap I could run down to town in around an hour from the summit. I realized that the FKT was definitely possible. 

The run down was a haze. Saira met me coming down the final few hundred metres to the trailhead. "I'm good now," I shouted. "I think I can get the record!"

I ditched the poles at the car, and sped off down the dusty Spray road. By now I was energized and realized that not only was I going to finish, but I was probably going to beat Phil's time.

The descent went without mishap, and I met my two children in the final km. They ran the last bit with me, and we put in a decent 5min 10s final kilometre back to our home. 

Final time, 10h 39m. 

A new FKT.

Final stats from my Suunto Ambit:

Distance 53.75km

Ascent 4794m  (15,700ft)

Time in ascent 6h 10m

Time descending 3h 43m

Equipment:

Shoes - Hoka One One Bondi Bs (a road shoe but great on the trails too)

Socks - Injinji (not a single blister all day)

Shorts - LuLuLemon

Poles - Black Diamond Ultra poles (indispensible - the fact that I was running 2 days later pain free, is a testament to these poles)

Pack - UD AK race vest (super light and comfortable)

Jacket - Patagonia Houdini

Food & Drink - H20, coke, Honey Stinger gels - around 12, plus 'real food' at pre-arranged stops. Thanks to John Firth for the top up mid way up the Spray climb!

Thanks to: 

Saira, George, Albert - awesome inspiration and support. Saira, especially, for talking me into getting my sorry ass going again on EEOR. Thanks to the couple who refilled my dwindling water supply on EEOR.

Also thanks to Compressport Canada, for the awesome compression wear that has helped my recovery.

Here's the link to my GPS data:

http://www.movescount.com/moves/move16131140

Next stop, Leadville!!!

Grotto Mountain summit - first one done!

View from EEOR across to Ha Ling

View from EEOR 

Grotto summit ridge

Lady MacDonald summit

EEOR summit

Ha Ling summit - almost there!

The awesome sock/shoe combo that kept me free of blisters

Fast ascents

I've been interested in Tony K et als recent exploits on their local peaks in Boulder and also been inspired by the speed ascents of peaks like the Grand Teton last summer by Tony, Kilian and others. So as the snow has been clearing from the Bow Valley I've used the good weather to try for some of my own personal FKTs on local summits.

A couple of weeks ago I made it up and down Ha Ling from home on Rundle Drive in a snip under 2h30. A couple of evenings ago I had a go at Lady MacDonald, surprising myself with a round trip to the tea house from home in under 2 hours including a few stops at traffic lights and one stop to give someone directions.

I also had a go at EEOR but it got kinda sketchy in the snowed up rock band so I backed off.

Both times are very beatable in better conditions, but hey it was some goo early season intensity for me! And I'd be interested in knowing if there are any unofficial FKTs for these peaks out there.

Next up, Grotto I guess!

Speed work?

Intervals and speed work are not exactly synonymous with ultra distance running, but I seem to have reached some sort of a stalemate. Looking at my training over the last few years, I really don't think I could squeeze in a whole lot more, juggling a full time (and busy) job, along with family commitments. From all that I have read, there are a couple of ways to get faster: lose weight, and throw in some speed work.

As far as the weight loss goes, sitting at around 155lbs, I think I'm where I want to be, though I have informally set a goal of 150lbs by the time the Leadville 100 rolls around in August. So I guess it comes down to doing some speed. I talked informally to a coach, and he is of the belief that 4-6 x 4-6minute intervals at 88-92% MHR is the way to go for an ultra, but I'm very open to other suggestions.

Guess I need to go figure out my MHR! Somehow!

Pine to Palm 100 - a rollercoaster of a day

It has only taken me almost 4 months to get round to this post! Tardy, i know, but it has given me some time to think about my experience at the Pine to Palm 100.

This was actually my first official 100 miler as I don't really count the 148km Sinister 7 - but hey what's 20 km amongst ultra friends. I have done one 100km, a bunch of 50km and 50 milers, and of course Sinister 7 - 148km.

The race starts in Williams, OR, near to the California state line, and finishes in Ashland, OR, a seeming mecca for ultra runners these days, with the likes of Hal Koerner, Jenn Shelton and Timothy Olson residing there. Hal is the race Director, and he owns the local running store Rogue Valley Runners. If you want more info on this race, www.roguevalleyrunners.com is the place to start.

Its a mountainous and at times, remote course, with an estimated 22, 000 feet of ascent. Unfortunately I wasn't able to confirm the exact data as my Ambit lost it's signal for about 30km, but at least the constant math I was doing in my head figuring out how far I'd done, converting kms to miles etc, kept  my mind occupied!

Race map from www.roguevalleyrunners.com

In any case, I would imagine that as far as 100 mile trail races go, this is a pretty challenging one, and I really had no idea how long this was going to take me, although my ultra encyclopedia (aka Wade Jarvis) assured me that sub 24 hours was possible. I went into the race feeling well trained, well rested, and injury free.

My aims going in were to:

1) Finish sub 24.
2) Avoid getting chick'd - though with Jenn Shelton towing the start line, that was a toughie.
3) Not die in the heat (estimated highs of the mid 90 Fs).
4) Get my nutrition right - as I'd had a few issues with the guts in prior races.
5) Still be running when I picked up my first pacer (and wife) Saira at mile 65, and my second pacer Jarvis, at mile 75.
6) Enjoy the experience enough that I would want to keep running this silly distance.

As I lined up just before 6am, Sept 15th, I had that usual pre race nervous excitement. This was what I'd been training for all year. I really wanted to test myself over 100 miles of trail.

The start was a pretty fast and furious affair, though I was really trying to hold back. Having said that I wanted to be in the leading group or thereabouts, so I likely went out a bit fast. The first 11 miles are all uphill and climb almost 5000ft, so you don't want to blow it early on. Indeed, we did blow it as about 10 of us missed the first turn at mile 3 in the dark, and ended up running about a half mile further up the road than we needed, but hey it was only mile 3! After a quick about turn, when RD Hal Koerner raced up the road after us, we rejoined the trail, but by now we were fighting to get past the back markers in some tight single track, so again, I was likely pushing a bit hard. I think this is what led to a few issues later on!

The start - that's me in green

After 30 mins or so the climbing proper started, on beautiful soft, leafy single track switchbacks, and gradually I felt like I had managed to get by most of the field and up near the front of the race. I settled into my steady uphill easy breathing pace, and started to enjoy the running. I ran the whole of the first climb, and never felt like I was pushing too hard. The legs felt good and my breathing was easy. Training and living in the mountains of Canmore, AB is definitely an advantage.

Cresting the first summit in the early dawn, was quite incredible, and I wished I'd had a camera with me. It really is a beautiful spot high on Grayback Mtn.

The initial climb, image from www.roguevalleyrunners.com

From the summit it was a fast and furious descent off the back down to an aid station (mile 15) and a long gradual downhill stretch on gravel road down into Seattle Bar (mile 28). One highlight here was having Scott Jurek fill my water bottle, which was quite cool!

Arriving in Seattle Bar (a stellar aid station by the way), I was feeling good, having not pushed the pace too hard down the long road section just completed, but the day was heating up and it was still very much early days. It was great to see Saira and Wade here, enthusiastic and tending to my every need. I wasn't exactly sure, but figured I was in about 6th place at this point, having been passed by some speedsters on the road - Tim Long being one. I ditched my jersey here, stuffed some food down, grabbed 2 new bottles of water, and prepared for the heat.

Leaving Seattle Bar it was a long run/hike up Stein Butte. It was really starting to heat up, and I worried a bit that my two handheld bottles wouldn't be enough. But I still felt good, and kept running all but the steepest of pitches. I passed a couple of runners on the climb and assumed I was in about 4th place. Just as I ran out of water and was starting to feel thirsty, the aid station on Stein Butte appeared. Mile 33 - perfect timing. Friendly volunteers filled my bottles as I quickly grabbed some food and a few gels.

Climbing Stein Butte in the heat. Image courtesy of Long Run Pictures

From Stein Butte it was a long descent down to Squaw Lakes Aid station (mile 39), and another chance to meet with crew. After all the descending in the heat my quads were starting to feel a bit tight, so it was nice to get into the shady trails of Squaw Lakes. Here we did a quick loop of the lake, back to the aid station, and I took a few moments to sit, eat some avocado and fruit, and take a short breather. As I set off down the road from Squaw lakes it was baking hot and I started to notice a few little crampy niggles in my quads. I recalled Tim Noakes mentioning something about pickle juice in his book, Waterlogged, and I had brought some to the race, but had forgotten to get some back at Squaw. I was a mile out of the aid station, and was considering turning back, when Wade and Saira came by in the car.

'Get me the pickle juice!' I yelled as they passed. At the junction with the next trail - the climb to Hanley Gap - there was Wade with a bottle of pickles! Awesome!

I wasn't sure how much to take so I just glugged down maybe a quarter cup - it tasted good, and psychologically it helped. In fact I totally forgot about cramps.......at least for the next 8 miles.

The climb to Hanley Gap was very tough for me. I was still mostly running, but the trail was very exposed to the sun in places, and I was starting to feel frazzled. I was also starting to feel the cramps returning, and arriving at the Squaw Peak Aid and the short out and back, I knew I was in trouble. It wasn't so much much that I was in trouble then, just that I knew something bad was starting to happen in my legs.

I took a few minutes to sit down at Hanley Gap aid. I chewed down some Pretzels, some fruit, a couple of cups of water and some E-caps. I don't generally use electrolyte tabs, just nuuns now and then more for the taste, as I find plain old water does it for me, but I wanted to get rid of these early cramps, using whatever means I could. There really isn't any evidence that cramping is caused by anything other than fatigue, but hey, I was desperate to try anything I could. Eric Skaggs was there and told me it would start to cool off soon, and the cramping would abate. I left the aid feeling optimistic.

The optimism lasted about a half mile. Cramping set in. Horrible, full on, 2 leg cramping. I fell to the ground multiple times with quad, calf and hamstrings simultaneously spasming. I cannot begin to describe how awful it was. I would walk 20 yards, cramp, spasm, fall over. It must have looked comical, but it felt anything but. Hell, I was only 52 miles into this race! Barely half way. I fell into the absolute depths of ultra-race despair for about an hour. I walked and hobbled. All I could think of was, get me out of this race. There was no way I could even contemplate finishing. If the sag wagon had pulled up I would have jumped in it in a flash. Fortunately it didn't. So I resigned myself to hobbling onwards. But I was done. I was barely moving, and every step was agony. How on earth could I run for another 50 miles. The sun continued to beat down, and I got passed by 3,4, 5 runners. There goes my top ten, sub 24 hour finish. All I could think about was getting to the next aid station and dropping out. So I ate some food, drank some water, and walked.

And then miraculously, after an hour of complete negativism, of total despondency and despair, things started to improve. It started to cool, just slightly. A slight breeze started to cool me off as I walked. The sun was going down. I'd eaten lots and was hydrated. And then I started to jog, barely a jog initially, but the legs felt good all of a sudden. Then I was running slowly, then full on running, up hill!!! I passed all the guys who'd just passed me. They were walking, but I ran, and it was steep. And I ran all the way, strong, up to Dutchman peak. When I arrived, Saira who was waiting to pace me said "wow, you look strong, barely anyone has run up this hill!"

And so I glugged pickle juice - maybe half a litre - it was salty nectar! I drank coke, ate chips and pretzels. I had a full belly, the temp was cooling, and I had the added lift of my first pacer. Now I felt bloody marvellous!

We set off as the darkness descended onto the Pacific Crest Trail. Saira ran a few yards in front of me. I asked her to pick up the pace! I was 65 miles in and running strong again. Saira couldn't believe how quickly I was running at this stage. And so we carefully picked our way in deep darkness along the PCR, which would, I imagine, be an incredible trail in the daylight, into Long John AS, at approximately 75 miles. Wade was ready for pacing duties.

I had grabbed some poles - Black Diamond Ultra light poles - at the Dutchman aid station and I was glad of them now, as there was a lot of steep stuff in the final quarter of the race. With Wade now pacing, we moved steadily along to the final big climb up to Wagner Butte. One runner passed us on this section, hollering how he was feeling so good after the beer he had had at Long John! 'That may come back to bite him' Wade remarked.

Sure enough as we hiked up the steep final slopes up to Wagner Butte, there he was, head in hands, emptying his stomach into the bush. We offered some words of encouragement, then pushed on. The final climb to Wagner Butte was just that, a climb! A full on night time technical scramble. With tired quads it was an exercise in careful foot placement. A fall here could have been disastrous. Unscathed, and feeling like the worst was over, we pushed the pace down from the summit. We were running as fast as I could, and then we were descending, descending, descending - steep, loose, technical single track - it seemed freshly cut, and was easily the most technical descending of the day - 85 miles in!

At mile 90 we were greeted by Carly Koerner at the Road 2060 Aid. She told us we were looking good, as we downed grilled cheese (the best grilled cheese I ever tasted) and chocolate covered coffee beans. I knew it was in the bag - all downhill from here. We cranked as hard as I could manage. We hit some narrow single track trails coming down steeply into Ashland, and suddenly there were head lights coming up quickly from behind us on the trail. We were less than a mile from the finish - I could almost see it. It was Jenn Shelton - the lead woman, and her pacer, and one of the lead men who had gotten off course. Wade took my poles, and told me to get going. I gave it all I had - a near sprint finish at the end of 100 miles!

That's how close the sprint for 5th was! After 100 miles

The finish, as always, was sweet, but anti-climactic. No big announcement, no fanfares, just a few sleepy volunteers to pat you on the back and hand over the finishers jacket. My wife even missed the finish - she'd fallen asleep nearby!

But I felt great. I had run strong over the last 35 miles - after being as close to dropping as I have ever been. I didn't get chick'd, beating Jenn Shelton by about 30 seconds. I finished without any stomach issues in the entire race - no nausea, vomiting, retching. I finished well under 24 hours - I was 5th overall, first old guy (Masters over 40), in 22 hours and change. And I didn't die in the heat, although I came close.

And best of all, I took away from this race a huge desire to keep doing it! I love these longer races. I'm not fast and I think 50 km is too short for me, but maybe 100 miles suits me, maybe it's my distance - I guess time will tell. Mentally this was a toughie, but I know that in the future, when times are tough, I just need to keep plugging away, to keep moving, keep eating and drinking, and just put one foot in front of another, because it will get better. That's what I learnt at this race. That's my new mantra when I am feeling awful - 'It will get better'.

With Scott Jurek

With Hal Koerner, RD

I have read negative comments on Facebook about this race, about the tight cutoffs, and the aid stations. I have nothing but good things to say, the aid stations and volunteers were stellar. Kudos to Hal for putting on this race, and wow, what a course. The cutoffs may be tight, but this is a hard race, and the final 30 miles are very tough.

I am running the Bandera 100km in a few weeks, I'm hoping to get into Western States through the lottery, and failing that it will likely be the Leadville 100. Pine to Palm didn't put me off ultras one bit, the exact opposite, it has fueled the desire! Keep on trucking folks.....and don't forget the pickle juice.

Thanks to RD Hal Koerner and all the volunteers.
Thanks to Wade Jarvis and Saira Reed for being stellar support and for pacing.
Thanks to Hoka One One and Injinji socks for making awesome foot apparel!
And thanks to the pickle farmers.

TNF EC 50 miler - glad I did it last year!

It was fun to watch iRunfar's coverage of the North Face 50 miler in San Fran this weekend. All I can say is that I was glad I chose to run this last year. Looks like an epic this year!

Congrats of course to Emelie Forsberg and Miguel Heras who won the women's and men's races - Salomon really is unbeatable these days.

This links to some cool pics and gives a good idea of the conditions - Drymax’s Facebook photo album