Race Report: Trail Mix 50k

The short version . . . Finished the 31.0686-mi course in 4 hours, 4 minutes, 34 seconds—a new PR (!) and good enough for 13th place. Much fun was had by all.

The long version . . .

3:30am—Rise and shine!
For some reason, I rarely make it unconscious all the way until my alarm's sounding on race mornings. (Maybe it's the pre-race dinner carb loading?) And this morning was no different. The alarm was set for 5a, but sometime around 3:30a my left eyelid cracked itself open and began probing the darkness. I thought about going back to sleep, but I also started thinking about the race. And I started thinking about the sound of our cat 'Mona's pre-dawn hyper-activity in the next room. And then I started wondering how far she could run, which then naturally led to the further wondering as to whether the fact that she has four legs (instead of two) would be an asset or a liability during a long distance endeavor. I think the point of wondering is the point of no return. Once my brain starts running down those trails, it's time for some coffee.

5:35am—Coffee, Bible, Final Preparations
After some coffee, and some wonderings about the similarities between the birth accounts of Samson and Jesus (Judges 13:2ff & Matthew 1:18ff), it was time for final pre-race preparations. Even though the race advertised plenty of aid stations, and I had no reason going in to think they wouldn't be well-stocked (excluding stuff like Gu gels, etc.), you just never know. Plus, there's that secret weapon of Ashley that I want to employ well:

Trail Mix for the Trail Mix 50k!

6:57am—Pre-start
Some may find it burdensome to do the whole pre-race check-in thing—getting your number, getting your pins, getting your tracking device (still crazy to me!), etc.—but, I sorta enjoy the routine of it all. I think it helpfully keeps the brain running ~10%, just enough to maintain a steady, warming hum without being draining (sorta like idling a car). Whether it's the 10-min warm-up jog, the getting your shoelaces just right, or emptying the bladder for the last time, I think the wise sequencing of the seemingly mundane right up until the start is one of the keys to starting off the race well. Really, the worst part is when the sequencing ends ~3 mins right before the gun. Like here:

I'm the one in orange.

What do you do for three minutes? You have to be early so you're not late for the start, but there are simply no meaningful activities that can be accomplished in the span of 180 seconds. You just gotta stand and wait it out. Everybody in this picture is thinking the exact same thing: Let's get this show on the road (or trail)!

7:00am—The Start
Three, two, one. . . boom! Finally, off we go:

Ryan Snell, the overall winner in 3:25:36, was the guy wearing the green shirt and orange-ish shoes.

I think it ended up being around +40F at the start (and not raining!)—much better than the predicted +34F with possible showers—but I'm definitely feeling a little chilly right here.

8:00am—Loop #1, 7.75 miles (:60)
For me, the beginning of an ultra (<10 miles in) is both the easiest part and the hardest part of the race. It's easy in that your legs are fresh, bursting with energy coming off a couple days of rest, and your mind is sharp, quick to notice details and free to wander. But it's also hard in that you have to, at regular intervals, hold yourself back. Getting into the right rhythm is surprisingly difficult. The springiness of your legs and the competitive nature of the race both can tempt you to push the pace: You can run way faster than this. Why don't we just pick it up a little?!

Other than gently reminding yourself at this point just how far away the finish line is, I also find it helpful to remember that the main goal at the beginning of any distance endeavor is: (1) finding the right rhythm to settle into (right = the one matching your pace) and (2) finding others who seem to have similar goals to help with the settling.

Having never raced this course before, and not having meaningful distance markers along the way with which to gauge pace (see below), I don't think I could have run a better 1st loop. I was right on pace for a 4-hr finish, had found a fellow runner to tag along with (never got his name, but I think it was Ethan looking at the results), and successfully met up with Ashley for a water bottle refill and some aid.

Feeling good.

8:55am—Loop #2, 15.5 miles (:55; 1:55 total)
The second loop was the most probably the most enjoyable one of the four. It was slightly faster than I was expecting. But I was still feeling very relaxed and more than happy to keep pace with my fellow running buddy Ethan. Being able to chase a moving target makes a huge emotional difference as the miles begin to fly by.

It was during this loop that I began to realize Ethan was your classic downhill runner. And that I, apparently, was not. During several of the steeper grades, I think he must have been pushing a 5:30 pace. Rather than be discouraged, I quickly decided that pushing the inclines were more up my alley and would make up the difference there. I'm sure he felt like I must have been pushing a 5:30 pace uphill. This made for an interesting game of yo-yo!

9:56am—Loop #3, 23.25 miles (:61; 2:56 total)
It was here—about 24 miles in—that the loop terrain began to change. What was a simple two-mile stretch on the first couple loops seemed to have lengthened itself to three. What was flat the first time around began to feel hilly. What was a small, seemingly insignificant hill began to feel closer to the size of a mountain. So it goes.

It was also here that I lost contact with Ethan. The second-half of the loop has some much steeper, longer downhill sections that I finally decided would be my undoing if I tried to keep pace. My plan was to just let him go and then try to make up the difference over the 3.5-mile uphill section at the beginning of the last loop. If we were still in contact when the downhill part began, then I could give it everything I had knowing the finish was only a few miles out. Still, even with having to give up the gap, 61 minutes on the loop left me right on pace to sneak in under 4-hrs and certainly ahead of my 4:21 PR-pace.

But then my stomach began to feel strange.

11:04am—Loop #4, 31.0686 miles (:68; 4:04:34 total)
To this point in the race, I had been disciplined to stay hydrated and consume a Gu gel every time I saw Ashley. (They say taking a gel every 45-mins is best, but for loop-convenience I figured every hour would be sufficient.) But, when I greeted Ashley at the start of the last loop, I began to feel hungry and then like my body on the verge of an energy shutdown. Manifesting her secret weapon character, Ashley supplied me with some nearby trail mix that ten I spent the next few minutes trying to re-fuel with.

This was definitely the low point of the race. While I never felt like I wouldn't finish, it was a little discouraging to be brought so low so quickly. I remember trying to tell myself that surely I can knock out a sub-1:04 loop and still sneak in under 4:00. But a depleted body is hard to reason with:

• Mind: Let's just back off the pace a little...we can still do this. Let's try 8:30-9:00 miles for a while, alright? We'll back off for a little while and then make up the difference closer to the finish.
• Body: Yeah...I don't think that's happening.
• Mind: Okay, okay, easy now. We're still doing great here. Let's hang in there! How about we just back off to whatever pace we need to for a few minutes? Let's just re-group here. 
• Body: Yeah...I think I'm going to walk this uphill for a second.
• Mind: Woah, woah; okay, okay, easy does it now! No need to panic or shut down! We've got less than 8 miles, let's just focus on forward motion. One step in front of the other. Every step is one step closer to the finish! Let's just walk this uphill, get some more fluids in you, finish off some trail mix, and jog when you feel like it, alright?
• Body: Yeah, okay, I think I can do that.

So, that's basically what ended up happening for a couple miles—eating some trail mix (found another stash at the next aid station) and jogging when I felt up to it. After around 10 minutes or so, I began to feel much more alive and found a couple more runners to tag along with, Christi and Edward (I think), all the way to the finish:

The last uphill!

The Finish!

11:10am—Post-race!

1:27pm—Post-race Recovery Meal!

While most of my mental energies were focused on pacing, nutrition, counseling myself, etc., I did have a couple other race thoughts. . .

• Shared joys = double joys? Multiple times during the day I got to thinking how much more fun it was to have Ashley (aka the secret weapon) there with me. I may end up running a race solo at some point in life, but I can't imagine it will be as fun as doing so with some close friends or family to share the experience with. In addition to taking pictures, and providing aid and encouragement, Ashley also found time to keep track of my splits:

• Distance markers? Overall, I thought the race was well-managed. The course was well-marked. The aid station workers were friendly and helpful. There were people (unexpectedly) cheering and encouraging at helpful parts of the race. That said, the way distance was marked on the course was not by miles, but by kilometers. So: there would be signs that informed you that you were passing the 17.5-km mark in the race. I remember thinking: Umm...what? How far is a kilometer again? How is this helpful? I appreciate the thoughtfulness...but the majority of people in the US think about distance only in terms of miles. And marking distance in a race only by kilometers is almost cruel. The brain of a runner, especially towards the end of a race, is barely capable of basic arithmetic, much less the repeated conversion of kilometers to miles—over and over and over again. Maybe a way to better serve runners next year!

Final Thoughts

All in all, an enjoyable day exploring the woods of Hyland Park! Wouldn't be surprised if I find myself doing so again next year, as long as the snow stays away...