The American River 50 is one of the big spring classics on the North American ultra running circuit, and one that I've had penciled in as a race to do for a year or two now. Having already put in some marathon training through the winter, and knowing that leg speed is important at AR, I figured this year would be as good as any to give it a shot. It would mark my second foray into the Northern California running world and my second race ending in Auburn, the self-proclaimed ‘endurance capital of the world.’

I flew out with Ryan Burch and Scott Jaime - three-fourths of the Colorado contingent in the men’s race. We had plans to meet up with Dave Mackey, the fourth piece of the Colorado puzzle, on Friday afternoon in Auburn but due to traffic out of Oakland those plans never came to fruition.

After touching down in Sacramento we drove straight to Auburn, checked into our hotel and then geared up for a quick out and back jog from the finish line to the river for a reckie of the closing three miles of the course. Coming back up on the big climb out from the river, I was pleasantly surprised at the generosity of the grade, which seemed a fair bit gentler than I had imagined.

A quick shower and we were off to the pasta dinner and panel discussion that was being MC’d by Andy three-names Wilkins. Andy did a great job hosting the panel and fielding questions from the crowd. His concluding remarks about the simplicity of the task at hand, "all you have to do is run from Sacramento to Auburn," in a world that becomes ever more complicated by the day were well received. This sums up for many of us why we do this sport. Thanks for the reminder Andy!

Race day began with a 3:00 am alarm call, coffee, two glazed donuts, and a bus ride from Auburn to the start on the American River bike trail. Race Director, Julie Fingar, was kind enough to secure an office suite for us to wait out the hour before the race and we enjoyed some good banter with AJW, Lord Balls and his handler, Megan Arbogast (The Queen), and others over coffee. It was a brisk 40 something for the 6:00am start, so I donned a pair of gloves but decided against the arm panties, which was a good call as things would warm up quickly.

AR50 course profile

From the off, two guys went out like they were in a hurry. I quickly caught up to fellow Brit Ian Sharman and we spent some time catching up and discussing the two sprinters. He explained that one, Jady Palko, was up to his usual trick of sprinting off the front and that he would soon taper off. The other guy off the front, B.C.-based Jason Loutitt, however was definitely a contender but moving at a pace that seemed a little suicidal – somewhere in the 5:40-5:50 range, we concluded. Within three miles he was out of sight and by mile eight we were told that he’d already built a three-minute lead.

'Run your own race,' I reminded myself.

While it was nice to catch up with Ian, I had to let him go after a couple of miles as I felt the pace was just a touch too hot and I had promised myself that I wouldn’t get caught up in any of the early madness. According to his GPS watch before I let him go, we were pushing out 6:10s, but I wanted to be closer to 6:30s, which was a pace I found by mile four or five when Joe Uhan got on my shoulder and ran with me for a while.

A key element of running a successful ultra-distance race is understanding your body, assessing the signals and reacting to them before they shut you down. Through the early going, the signals I was getting were that the pace was good, but my right leg was unusually unhappy with me, especially in the groin/hip/gluteus maximus area. Annoyingly, my glute was telling me that it was ready to cramp. Even though I was on a steady diet of EFS Liquid Shot – which has a high concentration of electrolytes – I decided that I would need to supplement on this day with E Caps, so I gobbled three at about mile eight and hoped for the best.

At the mile 8.5 aid station (50:00), Joe stopped to fuel while I went straight through, so I was again running by myself. The sun rising directly to the east was blinding at times, but it was also quite spectacular with the rays cutting peacefully through a nice early morning layer of mist rising from river. As painful as running a marathon on a bike path as a warm up for a 20-mile trail race sounds, the beauty of the river sets a stunning scene which really helped pass the time.

By mile ten I heard footsteps coming up behind. I assumed it was Joe catching back up, but it turned out to be Dave. He eased by quickly and then settled in ten meters or so ahead of me. I took a quick peek back and was happy to see that Scott was equidistant behind me in fifth. We ran like this for a while, before Dave jumped into the bushes for a pit stop. Then at mile 18 (1:51) the course crossed over the river on a big road bridge before ascending sharply on a short stretch of trail onto the bluff above the Nimubs Dam. Dave and Scott both caught up to me as we crossed the bridge and Dave took the initiative on the climb up to the bluff by leading us up the loose, rocky singletrack. The course soon dropped back down and we were again on the bike path. Crossing the bridge, I had a good line of sight on Ian, who was probably 90 seconds ahead in second. Looking back, Jacob Rydman was hanging in sixth a similar distance back.

On the second, longer stretch of rolling singletrack a mile or two later Dave took off on us and looked like he was ready to pull Ian back into the fold. Scott stayed close a few meters back in fifth. After probably two miles on this second stretch of trail we once again found our way back onto a crushed gravel section of the bike path, passing through Negro Barr aid station at 22.6 miles (2:26) and headed for the marathon marker. There was a big balloon deal marking the marathon distance, which popped at just over 2:49 – a little slower than planned but about where I wanted to be.

Soon thereafter we were at Beals Point, the southern end of Lake Folsom, which is where I got my first refill on water (yup, one bottle through the marathon), and then ducked into the bushes for a long-awaited moment of bladder relief. Coming back out of the bushes, I saw that Scott was right there, and then heading out to the dam, I could see that Dave had closed the gap on Ian considerably. So with the marathon in the bag, it was Jason way off the front (he went through the marathon in 2:39), with Ian, Dave, myself and Scott all within a few minutes of each other in second through fifth.

The next section to the 31.5 mile aid station was a mix of crushed gravel, dirt two track and, I think, singletrack. We got our first taste of what was to come through here in terms of underfoot conditions, with some good boggy patches of dirt in the lower-lying sections of trail. At approximately mile 30, the trail gave way to a recreation area and a four-way intersection with no flagging. Bugger. Knowing that Scott wasn’t far behind and that he had run the course before, I decided to wait for him rather than take my chances scouting the four options. Unfortunately, Scott was none the wiser and we ended up picking the wrong option before fortunately being escorted back on course by a lady who thought we should be headed in the other direction and then a guy on a bike who was certain of it. That was a frustrating four- to five-minute waste, but all part of the game. Quite clearly the markings had been pulled down, as they had been exemplary up until this point.

By the time I hit Horseshoe Barr aid at mile 38.1 (4:26), I had been solo for a long time. My energy had been good all morning, and while my legs had been feeling 'off' through the first 50k, they were finally feeling a little looser and ready to charge. I got another water refill at Rattlesnake Barr (4:48, 41 mile) where I was told that third was three minutes ahead. This had been my first time check since mile 27, and honestly I was a little disappointed as I felt like I had been moving well for the last few miles. Nonetheless I wasn't ready to throw in the towel, especially with my energy levels still perky, so I got my head down and attacked the singletrack which had now become significantly less technical, but continued on the rolling theme.

The penultimate two-man aid at Manhattan Bar came quickly (43.9, 5:07), and I started doing the math for the sub-6:00: 6.1 miles & 1,000 feet of climbing in 53 minutes. The guys here told me that third was just one minute off. Game on!

Given that I had closed a couple of minutes in the last three miles, I was expecting to come up on third quickly, however, it wasn't until a final ribbon of singletrack before the turn up from the river to the finish that I caught sight of Ian, who was now no more than 45 seconds up on me. The opening half-mile section of the last 3 miles of the race is easily the steepest sustained climb on the course, and as I rounded the corner to make the turn, I had a good visual on Ian who had now dropped to a powerhike. As soon as he realized that I was on the hunt, however, he was back running but he again dropped to a hike a minute later as the terrain continued to steepen. I passed the 3 to go sign in 5:38:21 still feeling like I had great energy, so a running cadence was a must.

Up this initial grunter I halved the gap on Ian, and by the two-to-go sign (5:46:20) and the asphalt I had picked him off and eased into third. I made sure to stay strong as I made the pass and refused to take a look back for at least a half mile, at which point Ian was far enough back that I thought I had a lock on third. I stole another glance two minutes later and to my surprise Ian was motoring, clearly not buried yet. I found another gear to fend off his challenge, and then rounding a bend near the one-to-go sign (5:53:20), I was surprised to see Jason slogging away 100 meters up the road. After running solo for hours, I was all of a sudden in a mad sprint for podium places.


I ratcheted the pain levels into overdrive (why does it always hurt so much coming into Auburn?) and threw down with whatever I had left. With a half mile to go, I had more than halved the gap on Jason and he still hadn't seen me. Then he did the shoulder check and quite clearly sped up. I was still gaining however and on the very last grunt before the short, flat road section into the finish he was within spitting distance. One more shoulder check from Jason and he started sprinting. I was tapped from trying to catch up, so I had to let him go. I crossed the finish line with a wry smile on my face in 6:00:09 for a closing three miles and 900 feet of gain of 21:48.

Results with splits. You'll no doubt note that Colorado put four in the top six (two from Fort Collins), and the Brits came home with gold in the women's and third and fourth in the men's.

Overall I was pretty satisfied with my race, especially the way I closed it out. The bike path miles were a little frustrating as I felt like I was working harder than I should have been at that pace and my legs just felt tight. But on the positive side, this was perhaps my best-fueled race ever. Normally in 50s, I fuel well through 30-35 miles then get lazy. Today, I was sucking down the last of my three EFS Liquid Shot flasks (400 calories each, 200 per hour) at mile 47, which had me feeling great all day.

The post-race shandies went down well and it was a ton of fun catching up with friends for a few hours. After four or five bottles of recovery nectar, it was back to the hotel for a quick shower and then to the Auburn Ale House (with a Double-Double pit stop at In & Out) for hand-pulled IPAs, continued banter and more food with a most enjoyable cast of characters.

A half marathon the next day on the Western States course to Hwy 49 and back rounded out a thoroughly enjoyable weekend.

After a 14-hour drive back from Vegas yesterday, I decided this morning to make up for the zero day by blowing off a bit of steam at the Poudre River Run, a local 5k supporting the Animal House Shelter.

The course was a straight out and back on the Poudre bike path (one 180 cone turn at the half) and the weather was pretty much perfect. Given the course and conditions, I figured I'd have a decent shot at running in the 16:30 range.

John, the race director, had already told me that Mike Chavez, Japheth Ng'ojoy and Mark (Horsecow) Lonac were running -- all guys who should beat me handily in a 5k -- and then warming up on the course, I saw that Sam Malmberg was also there, which was good as he is typically around my pace.

As expected, the race got out fast from the gun, and by the time we were off the Cache La Poudre High School track and on to the bike path there was already a pack of four guys putting a gap on me. Through the first, ever so slightly downhill mile, I was pretty surprised to be keeping Mike and Japheth reasonably close, but even more surprised to have split a 5:10. Through this first five minutes, a couple of the guys in the lead pack came back to me, while Horsecow (who was sporting a nifty pair of cow-print speedos) and another guy I didn't recognize went by. I think I was in fifth at the turn, which I hit in 8:10.

As I was hanging close to Horsecow's bovine cheeks through the second mile, I figured I was holding a decent pace, but splitting a 5:29 I was clearly paying for the hot first mile. The third mile was a process of reminding myself to keep pushing and then forgetting that I was supposed to be pushing before hitting the gas again and then once again forgetting (conveniently) that discomfort was a good thing. I figured I'd split 5:30 again for the third, but alas the slide was bad today and it hit in a sludgy 5:37. With the 35 second final .1, I crossed the line in a disappointing 16:52 for my worst-paced race in quite some time: 5:10, 5:29, 5:37 (8:10, 8:42).

Mike Chavez won easily in 15:20, followed by Japheth 20-30 seconds later, and third (Brooks Cowan) in 16:16. Horsecow, who I assume is out of shape right now, put a few seconds on me towards the end, finishing in 16:41. Pete scored a PR with a solid 18:20 while Jenn Malmberg picked up some cash (later donated to Animal House) for her second place finish. Her husband Sam was a few seconds behind me.

Warmed down with Sam, Jenn and Pete for four additional miles and 10 on the morning/60 on the week. I don't plan on running much tomorrow, so thankfully I've been able to keep a lid on the volume this week as I get ready for American River next weekend. While I didn't run what I wanted today, I was pleased that my legs felt significantly lighter than last weekend. It sill feels like there's some sludge in there, but I'm hopeful that they'll be good and peppy after another lighter week next week.

Results.

Photo: Greg Norrander

Having run Salida 10 minutes quicker than in 2010 two weeks ago, I was hopeful that I could put up another course PR this weekend in a 50k, this time on the fantastically scenic outcropping of mountains lifting out of The Great Salt Lake, forming what is known as Antelope Island - a place where the buffalo roam and the antelope graze. Even better than the fauna are the dawn views of the stunning Wasatch off to the west of the island - alone worth the price of admission. But there was also some racing to be done.

With Salida still in my legs and the American River 50 upcoming, I was a little unsure about racing this one too hard. I knew that the winner from the Bear 100, Mike Foote, would be on the start line but beyond that there weren't too many other names that I recognized from the start list. I was hopeful therefore that I might be able to cruise this one and still come away with a win.

From the gun, I was on the deck being trampled after a somewhat inglorious drop of my EFS Liquid Shot flask and subsequent stumble to the ground after trying to scoop my fuel from the ground in stride. In my rugby days, I think I would have pulled it off, as scooping a rugby ball while on the move is a skill that is frequently practised, but it's been a while. In the process of falling, I dropped my water bottle under me and landed my ribs hard on it in exactly the same spot as I bruised them last year whilst coming down off of Pikes Peak. Another set of bruised left ribs as I sit here writing this. Sweet. Wheeze. After the stampeding, I was able to get to my feet, shake off the fall, and get on with the 32-mile task at hand.

Last year, Scott Dickey set an uncomfortably hard pace up the opening 600-foot climb; this year, thankfully, the pace was very casual which allowed for some good banter and a gentle warm up. Christian Johnson, who paced me in expert fashion through the final 25 miles of the Wasatch 100 last year, was up in the lead pack of five or six guys as we climbed through the first couple of miles. He made a few introductions, singling out Seth Wold as a 'fast marathoner,' while Jake Krong introduced himself as a newcomer to the SLC area, just as we were starting to ratchet up the tempo toward a more race-like effort. Mike Foote and another whose name I didn't catch were also in the pack.

After a quick wrong turn - approved by Christian who mapped the course, ahmm - we cut cross country back onto the jeep track that wound around a ledge before starting the descent down on the connector section between the two loops that together make up the 25k lap that done twice makes up the 50k course. On the steepest section of the lap, a short but sharp 300-400 foot climb up to the Elephant Head aid station, I could feel that my climbing legs were not with me. Six miles in, and this little grunter felt way harder than it should have.

By this point Seth, Jake and I had created some separation on Christian and Mike, and it looked like it would be the three of us racing for the podium places. Seth and I had mainly been taking turns with the lead and all three of us seemed on board and comfortable with the pace. I led us through the switchbacks at the far end of the Elephant Head loop, and I could tell that Seth and Jake were still running well within themselves. While I wasn't laboring up this climb, which is very generously graded (long switchbacks), I continued to feel like the climbing was more work than it should have been.

Connecting back up to the first loop, I let Jake and Seth gap me a bit as the grade steepened. I was able to catch up quickly as things flattened out, but by this point 11-12 miles in, I was beginning to feel like I was in for a grind of a second lap. Finishing up the rolling last few miles of the first lap on the return side of the first loop back to the turnaround at the start/finish, Jake assumed the lead and upped the tempo a touch - maybe feeling Seth and I out a bit. This work actually felt good and I was enjoying the increased blood flow that accompanied the faster pace, which gave me some encouragement that my legs might finally be ready and up to the task of racing the second lap.

We hit the turnaround, after the long downhill cruiser into the finish area, in 1:49 which I think was a minute faster than last year. On the climb back up for round two, I knew immediately that I was in trouble. Jake and Seth kept the effort level right where it had been for the last few miles, and despite the feeling that my legs had opened up a touch through the rollers of the last couple of miles, I just couldn't get them firing on any kind of sustained climb. I hung on for the first half of the climb, but soon made the executive decision that I just wasn't going to be able to hold this pace without an inglorious implosion long before the finish. And so I let them go.

By the top of the climb, Jake and Seth had 45-60 seconds on me. I figured I might be able to pick them back up on the flatter/downhill stuff, but it wasn't to be. After holding out hope for a few miles, it became increasingly clear - on this course with wide open, sweeping views - that they were gone.

Knowing by Elephant Head at mile 21-22 that the racing was essentially done, I dropped down into training mode and started thinking about American River and the fact that I will need to be careful with the mileage and effort over the next couple of weeks if I want to be at all competitive there. Flat legs again and there is no way I'll be competing.

Coming back around toward the finish with three or four miles to go, after passing probably 100 people in the 25k race ("on your left," "coming up behind you," "on your right, "right behind you guys," "nice work"....), I caught sight of Seth five minutes or so ahead, which was closer than I thought he would be at this stage. However, with the proliferation of 25k runners between he and I, it was unclear if Jake was ahead or behind him. In the vain hope that I might be able to pick up second, I increased the tempo for the final 20-25 minutes, but it wasn't to be.

I ended up coming in a touch under 3:48, which was a few seconds quicker than last year (in comparable conditions), but way off Jake's new course record of 3:38, which given the 4,000 feet of climb, 4000-5000' of altitude, and long course (32-32.5 miles) is pretty impressive (at least to me). Seth - a 2:22 road marathoner - also finished way under my time from last year (3:43).

Clearly, I need to be a little careful as I get ready for American River, which is something of a goal race. I didn't feel great at Salida, but came away satisfied with my run. Yesterday on Antelope Island it was a grind pretty much the whole morning, which tells me that it's time to take things a little easier for the next couple of weeks - a mini taper in the middle of my build for Western States. Hopefully that way I can run well at AR50, while also recharging the batteries a bit before the last six or seven weeks of work before Squaw.

Elsewhere on the island, Coloradoans Dan Vega and Dylan Bowman held up their ends of the bargain with impressive wins in the 100- and 50-mile races. Dan beat Mr.100 himself (Meltzer) in the inaugural 100, while Dylan reset Burch's 6:30 course record from last year with a zippy 6:15. Both these guys look to have found good early season form - and both will be running at Leadville in August. Put them both in your picks for the top five. Defening Leadville champ Duncan Callahan also had a good run in the 50, finishing in 6:30 or so.

Some races you just keep on going back to, and the Salida 'Run Through Time' Marathon is one of those for me. This weekend was my third consecutive year running Salida and, I am happy to report, my third consecutive PR.

So this year, with fantastic weather in the forecast, I brought the family with me. This meant a nice hotel room - as opposed to the back of the truck - a fun afternoon at the Salida hot springs pool and a night of earache torment for poor Alistair. Needless to say, it was not my best pre-race night of sleep, but as a parent (and an ultrarunner) you gotta roll with the punches. And anyway, as I have come to learn, a poor night's sleep before a race is by no means a valid excuse for a bad race. I'm pretty sure, in fact, that my better race performances have come on the back of hours of tossing and turning and endless clock checks than they have after 8 hours of undisturbed shut eye. So anyway, I rolled into packet pick-up and the pre-race briefing in the morning pretty un-enthused about the task ahead, but happy to see and catch up with many familiar faces.

Salida has become one of those great local races that brings in the hardcore trail crowd, in addition to a pretty strong field. This year was no exception. I knew beforehand that Timmy Parr was going to be running and looking for the three-peat, on advice from Burch who would be running his sixth (of six renditions). Brendan Trimboli had also advised that he was in, and then at the pre-race meeting I was surprised to see Geoff Roes lurking in the shadows, but less surprised to see Dan Vega who is a regular fixture at Salida. Marco Peinada and Brooks Williams were both there looking for redemption from last year, and JT was also in attendance to log his sixth start, in company with a large CRUD contingent. Unfortunately Nick Pedatella didn't make it out, as he was nursing a bum ankle, but the field still looked strong, so I knew I'd have my work cut out if I wanted to get on the podium.

From the off, a small pack formed, but unlike years prior there were no half marathon rabbits to chase through the early going, so it was me, Timmy and Ryan up front with a few others close behind as we made our way out to the Ute Trail county road that would take us up to the 10.5 mile, 9,100' turnaround an hour and a quarter later.

Once you get on the Ute Trail climb, two miles in, it is approximately six miles and 1,800 feet to the Turret Road turn on a gravely dirt road that follows a wash up into the hills above the Arkansas River valley. This is one of my all-time favorite race climbs as the grade is at that perfect in-between point where you can run fast and get a good pant going without feeling like you're digging yourself an early grave for the rest of the race, which, while mainly downhill, should absolutely not be underestimated.

As we settled into the climb, Timmy and I built some separation on the rest of the field, but before long I decided to ease off the gas letting Timmy go as I found an effort level that seemed wise and appropriate. As we pushed on up, I heard footfalls a few meters back, and at one of the many twists in the road I shot a look back to see that it was Dan Vega sitting as he had last year close behind me. At this point - a few miles into the race - there was nobody else in sight. Timmy was 20-30 seconds up on me here, which is essentially where he would stay until the end of the climb, while Dan was equidistant behind in a position that he too would maintain through to the turn.

So by mile eight and the Turret Road left, it was Timmy, me and Dan running 1,2 & 3 across a two-minute span. The views of the mighty Collegiate Peaks at the high point of the race, a couple miles down the road, were as stunning as always on this beautiful bluebird morning and it was all smiles as I passed Timmy on his way back from the turnaround (which had been moved a couple miles in from Turret to accommodate a new stretch of singletrack at the end of the race). As previously described, Dan was a minute or so back on me, while Ryan was a further couple of minutes back on Dan, followed by a procession of runners from there.

By the mile-14 (ish) turn on to the jeep track return off the Ute Trail, it looked like I had closed on Timmy a bit and maybe extended my gap on Dan. Seeing that I was within striking distance of Tim, I began to think that I might have a rare shot at taking him down, and continued to feel that way as I kept him in sight through the next couple of miles of rolling double track. However, after a while, the glimpses of Timmy dried up, while Dan looked like he might be making up ground, which led to the obvious conclusion that I was slowing. I knew here that I needed to get some calories in, having consumed just one gel early in the climb, but I just couldn't be bothered with it. The sun was strong on this morning and the thought of gel was just not a good one, so I decided here that I'd see what I could do on fat reserves and water alone.

As we made our way on to the new six-mile section of singletrack at mile 20, I hadn't caught sight of Timmy in quite some time and I had pretty much given up on catching him - and didn't really care anyway - while Dan was essentially on my shoulder. The trail was stellar and I immediately got a boost from that and felt way more comfortable than I had on the hideously loose and rocky jeep track descent that we had previously been negotiating. However, the trail was exceptionally twisty and very narrow, which slowed the pace considerably. In addition, there were a couple of real grunters early in this section that reduced the pace to close to a hike. I had been suffering for a bit by the time we hit the steepest of the climbs and I told Dan, who was now just a few strides behind me, to jump by whenever he was ready, but pretty much as soon as I said that he began to fade and through the remainder of the twisty turny descent I rebuilt the gap on Dan to a minute or two. This thankfully meant that I wouldn't have to engage in a late-race battle for second, and I was able to cruise to the finish in 3:08:55 and a 10-minute course PR.



Dan finished up 60-90 seconds behind me in third, suggesting that he has found some good early season form, while Ryan was a few minutes behind Dan in fourth. Sean O'Day had a good run for fifth and Brendan 'Solar Weasel' Trimboli was solid in sixth. I was also super stoked for occasional training partner and friend Aaron Marks who ran 4:00:00, having set an 'A' goal of breaking 4 hours. After hanging around waiting for JT to finish, I got bored and headed back to the hotel for a shower. By the time I got back he still wasn't finished, which means I beat the handicap by more than an hour in our two-race wager despite his strong showing in New Orleans. Something about stopping for a beer break at mile 20.

To cap off a great weekend, it was off to Ryan's aunt's place for a fabulous Irish feast of corned beef, cabbage, boiled veg, fabulous home-baked breads and thoroughly enjoyable company.

Always a fun time in Salida.

Splits:

First Aid: 51:44
Turret Road Turn: 59:08
10.5 Turn: 1:15:45
Jeep Track Turn: 1:37:12
Finish: 3:08:55

This was my sixth go at building for a marathon, so I've become pretty familiar with the event and the required training, but there are always new things to learn. Probably my biggest takeaway from this go around is that it takes a steadfast commitment to running fast in training, a somewhat unpleasant proposition for the mountain jogger in me, and one that I think I was a little too half-hearted about. While I still feel like I had a decent build up, especially on the mileage front, if I were to do it again, I would definitely include a greater number of sustained efforts at marathon pace and fewer mile repeat type workouts.

But this is not always easy. From my house, I have limited access to flat, paved terrain, which makes it easy to ditch certain workouts in favor of mountain jogging sessions. That is just the reality of where I live - great training grounds for mountain courses, but terrible for road races. Anyway, on balance, I think I did about as much as was realistically possible, so really shouldn't complain about what ended up being a slightly disappointing run. After all, a 7 minute PR is a very positive sign. On to the report.

Firstly, I wish I could have spent a little more time in New Orleans, but with work and family obligations being what they are, this was very much a whistle-stop tour. I got in late Friday and then spent the balance of Saturday hanging out in the French Quarter with Top American and Nela. The French Quarter would have been a lot of fun had there been a quarter the number of people milling around, and if I wasn't running a marathon the next day. As it was, we walked around a bit taking in the scene and the architecture before sitting down to a disappointing jumbalaya etouffe at what looked like a nice restaurant (I'm disappointed 7 times out of 10 when I eat out, so tend to avoid it if possible). Justin and Nela opted for a bus tour in the afternoon, so I headed to a quieter part of town for coffee, sun and a little soak of New Orleans life.

After a pasta dinner out by the airport where I was staying, it was to bed for the 4:45 alarm call to meet Justin for the 5:30 ride into town. Sitting in the car, I was feeling pretty blasé about the work ahead and generally just a little disinterested. Justin and I weaseled our way into the elite/VIP area at the start after heckling Jurek who was in the pen taking pictures with fans. The heaters were a real treat as it was just a touch nippy in the pre-dawn of morning. Kim Smith was there looking skinny and sharp as were a bunch of Hansen Brooks runners. Not only would Kim go on to beat Justin by four minutes in the half, she would also set a U.S.-soil half marathon record (1:07:36). Impressive.

Shortly before the gun Brian Peterson, a fellow trail runner, introduced himself saying that he was looking to go 2:29. Having still not made up my mind on pacing, I figured I’d use Brian as a gauge as he was planning on pacing off his Garmin. If I could hang, I would at least have someone to work with after the five-mile marathon/half marathon split, beyond which I was fully expecting to run solo.

Easing into the run, things felt remarkably smooth, as they should on tapered legs in the early stages of a marathon, so it was all small talk, fun and games. This is always the pleasurable part of the marathon – people are chatty, the work feels easy and your goal is yet to be shattered by the inevitable effects of lactic-acid build up and glycogen depletion. The first mile was perhaps the easiest 5:49 I have ever run, and it pretty much felt like we were jogging. Through these early miles I was in a good pack, hanging two or three deep just drafting and chatting. Up to the half marathon turn off, the miles went: 5:46, 5:47, 5:46, 5:44. The numbers suggested the pace was maybe just a touch hot, but aside from a nagging right glute and right Achilles (which are nearly always nagging) the effort felt just about right.

All the while, I had been keeping an eye on Brian, who had maybe ten meters on me by mile five, as he was the only one I knew was in the marathon, and I also knew from his continued Garmin vigilance that he was still right there as the 2:29 marker. When the half/full split came, everyone in my immediate vicinity, with the exception of Brian made the turn, leaving me stranded in an island of solitude. Mile 6 hit at 6:14, so evidently I had fallen off the pace without anyone to work with, but I am also assuming that the marker was a touch long. Nonetheless, I upped the effort to make sure the next mile was safely in the 5-minute zone.

Miles 7 through 11 were run 100% solo. The long straight street that we were running on allowed me to keep track of Brian who was steadily building his gap on me. I gave thought to bridging to get on the 2:29 train but just wasn't feeling spry enough, so made the decision to keep the 5:50 pacing goal and see who came back to me. While my breathing was still super easy, my legs just weren’t feeling that peppy, a little crampy even. I popped a couple of E-caps somewhere in here to bump up the electrolytes and I also managed to get a gel down. Miles 7-11 went: 5:41, 5:50, 5:51, 5:48. Clearly, there would be no 2:30 on the day, but 2:33 was still very much alive.

Somewhere around mile 10 the marathon course rejoined the half (mile 5 in the half). I had been a bit worried about this section on the long haul up to City Park as I really didn’t want to be weaving around half marathoners for eight miles. Thankfully, we were on a divided two-lane thoroughfare for the full eight miles the two courses shared, so I got two lanes to myself (literally), while the half marathoners were bumper to bumper on their side of the road.

Mile 12 popped at 5:54 and mile 13 at 5:56. The 5:5x numbers back to back at equal effort output to previous 5:4x miles was a worrying sign to me that the slide was on, so going through the half in 1:16:48 (one second off a PR), I was beginning to feel like 2:33 would be a major result, with a 2:35 being a decent save. And then I split a 5:31 14th mile. I immediately wrote that one off as a short mile marker and got my nose back down to the grindstone.


The miles up to the park, where I was expecting to see Justin and Nela and maybe run with Justin a bit, were unremarkable other than for the fact that I was desperately trying to hold on to my pace and failing: 6:08, 6:07, 5:58, 5:56. Shortly thereafter I was in the park and Justin jumped in to pace me for a stretch. He told me that he’d been double chicked, despite running an impressive 1:11:10. I was happy for him, but as I was beginning to feel increasingly sorry for myself, I was only able to mutter half-hearted words of congratulations on his PR. Justin pulled me through my last 5:xx mile, the 19th, which hit at 5:56. Soon thereafter he dropped off the pace (clearly it was too hot for him!) and left me to the misery of my own company.

Without my pacer I dropped straight back into the 6s, with a 6:04 20th mile on the way up to the shores of Lake Pontchartrain. Along the shore there was an annoying distance-adding out and back that involved two 180 degree cone turns, which at this stage of the game were about as welcome as Hosni Mubarak in Cairo. Mile 21, which included one of the U turns and a complete stop over confusion as to whether or not I was still on course (I was), popped at 6:08. Ughh. Mile 22 was no better (6:08), but at least I was headed back toward the finish.

I can’t remember exactly where I saw Brownie in here on this out and back section, but it was probably at about mile 22.5 (20 something for him). After some quick math based on where he was and time elapsed, he – quite unbelievably – appeared to be well on pace for his targeted 2:54. I think I grunted at him and then got my head back down for the dull, painful grind of the last few miles. Somehow I was maintaining my new low-6-minute pace. While it wasn’t my desired reality, at least there wasn’t a complete meltdown underway.


Mile 23 was a 6:07 with 2:16:17 on the clock. I needed an act of god for 2:30, a miracle for 2:33 and some good old fashioned guts for 2:35. I apparently had none of the above, and capitulated over the last three miles with a 6:13, 6:10, 6:15 finish. I put in a token effort at running the last .2 in 63 seconds for the 2:35, but came up way short finishing in 2:36:11 and tenth overall.


Having set myself a 2:29-2:35 goal spread, I could say that I’m disappointed with the result, but as long as I’m setting PRs then I really shouldn’t be complaining. My marathon times are still moving at a large-chunk trajectory, so I am confident that next time out I’ll be able to put up a coveted 2:2x time and feel that I can give the event a satisfied turn of the back. As a point of reference, in my six stabs at the marathon my times have gone: 3:28, 3:16, 3:06, 2:54, 2:43, 2:36, so I have to believe that there is still room for improvement.

A huge congrats to Brownie for his impressive 2:53 run and PR, and of course to Justin for a really impressive collection of 1s (1:11:11) in the half. I ended up beating Brownie by 17 minutes and change, which means that I have to beat him by 38 minutes in Salida in order to win our bet. It’s a taller order than I would have liked, but still within the realms of possibility.

A word on the course. As Justin pointed out to me post-race, the marathon course for Competitor events tend to be an afterthought to the half marathons. The half course in New Orleans is lightning fast with very few turns and probably no more than 10 or 20 feet of elevation change. The marathon course is also very fast and very flat, but there are a lot of turns which slow things down a touch. I think this race will attract a stronger field in the coming years as it gains a reputation for being fast, but for guys in the 2:20 - 2:40 range the current lack of depth makes for more of a time trial than a race.

Results.

Splits:

1. 5:49
2. 5:46
3. 5:47
4. 5:46
5. 5:44
6. 6:14
7. 5:41
8. 5:50
9. 5:51
10. 5:48
11. 5:54
12. 5:56
13. 5:56
14. 5:31
15. 6:08
16. 6:07
17. 5:58
18. 5:56
19. 5:56
20. 6:04
21. 6:08
22. 6:08
23. 6:07
24. 6:13
25. 6:10
26. 6:15
0.2 1:14

Avg: 5:57.8

1st half: 1:16:48
2nd half: 1:19:23

1st 5: 28:52
2nd 5: 29:24
3rd 5: 29:25
4th 5: 30:01
5th 5: 30:46

I knew going into this one that there wouldn't be a great deal of feedback to be had on the marathon-performance front, given that Estes Park sits at over 7,500' and that both races involve a lot of uphill work and considerable amounts of running through clumpy paddock, but I figured that if I raced both reasonably hard I could get a good late-marathon effort out of the 10k.

Alex and I carpooled up to Estes (which is an intriguing 50k from my house) with a ton of time to spare. Ryan B was at registration as Alex and I were picking up our race bibs, so the three of us headed out to run the 5k course as a warm up. It essentially involved a 1.5-mile, 250'-foot climb out of town to MacGregor Ranch on first asphalt and then gravely dirt, before cutting cross country on clumpy and pot-holed paddock for 3/4 of a mile and then rejoining MacGregor road for the one-mile, 150' descent to the finish.

Going in, I figured I'd race the 5k hard to work up a good amount of of lactic acid for the 10k effort. However, with the uphill start and the altitude, I was laboring almost immediately from the gun. Three guys got out in front of me with last year's winner Mark Saunders trailing two other guys that I didn't recognize. It took me about a half mile to get on the back of the pack, and I figured then that I would just race the 5k for positions and not worry about running as hard as possible, so I sat back and drafted at what seemed like an increasingly easy effort. Just before the mile, Mark decided to up the effort waving for me to come with him. I did and we immediately dropped the guy who had been setting the early pace. Through the first mile of asphalt and 150' of climbing we were at 5:40.

Once we hit the gravel road in MacGregor Ranch, the grade increased significantly and - not surprisingly - the pace dropped. We gained probably 100 feet over the next third of a mile before the road leveled out, and at the 90 degree turn onto the cross country section, I was able to get a look behind and saw that I'd built a decent gap on second (Peter Swank). Given that the paddock section was pretty pitted, I figured I should be careful and go easy to the road so as not to twist an ankle or do something else stupid. The 1.1 mile section in MacGregor Ranch split at 6:55.

The last mile was almost all downhill and all on asphalt, so I was able to cruise at a good speed into the finish with a 5:18 last mile and 17:55 overall. Ryan finished strong, almost picking off Peter Swank for second, but just running out of real estate.

Alex, Ryan and I reconvened shortly thereafter and went off to jog the first 1.5 miles and last half mile of the 10k course in a bid to keep loose in the 40 minutes between races. The first mile of the 10k course was very steep, with over 200 feet of climbing before dropping down for a quarter mile to rejoin the half-mile point of the 5k and then climbing back up to MacGreggor ranch for an additional 170 feet of ascending, so 400 feet of climbing in the first two miles. Nice.

From the gun, the race went out noticeably slower than the 5k, almost at a jog, so it was a fairly safe bet that most everyone in the 10k had also raced the 5k. Within 100 yards we were tucking into the first section of the opening one-mile climb, which was probably close to a 10 percent grade. Once things eased off a bit, I actually felt my legs tell me that they were comfortable and ready to run again, so I switched from just wanting to tempo the effort to feeling like I wanted to make this hard on myself to make it feel like the last 10k in New Orleans might. By mile one (6:24), I already had control of the race so concentrated on working a steadily hard, marathon'esque effort.

At the top of the second climb, which happened to coincide with the two mile marker (6:03), I was ready for some fun paddock action. The course repeated the 5k cross country section, then cut across Devil's Gulch Road at mile 3 (5:52) for two more miles of pretty serious cross country. Cutting back east up the Devil's Gulch fenceline and then south through some trees, the course climbed another 150' or so before dropping sharply through some dangerously low pine canopy and heavily pine-coned terrain. Out of the trees, the course had us run through some really tall grass with stretches of heavily off-cambered action thrown in for good measure before sending us back towards Devil's Gulch Road for the last mile of asphalt. Miss Colorado was directing traffic at the last cross-country turn, and I took it so tight that I almost sent her flying. Ooops. The splits through this section went 6:17 & 5:33 (mile 5 was obviously way short).

Once back on the road, I checked over the shoulder and saw Ryan a ways off in second. Knowing that the fifth mile was short, I took at a split at the 1 mile marker of the 5k course to see what I could push out for a last mile, which I covered in 5:25, crossing the line in 36:22, which surprised me. Figuring that the course was short then, I checked with Ryan and Alex who both had GPS watches on, and as suspected the course was .2 miles short at 6 miles. That said, the 5k course was a touch long, so I guess it all evens out in the wash. Ryan ran a strong 10k, finishing about a minute back on me and comfortably ahead of Mark Saunders in third and way ahead of the guy who had earlier beat him for second in the 5k.

I picked up a couple of pewter game trophies to add to my buffalo from the Antelope Island 50k last year. All I need now is a cougar.

There were plenty of running options on offer this Saturday. Two hours south in the Springs, the third and final race in the Front Range Fatass series was taking place, while an hour north in Wyoming some truly crazed folk were wading through waist-deep snow in what Alex is describing as the hardest of the three Trudges he's done so far. I've done two and they both sucked, so I can only imagine how intolerable this year's race was, but I was still sad to miss it.

Me, I ran ten miles on a bike path in Denver.

Frosty's Frozen 10 Mile has one of the sillier race names out there in addition to a thoroughly uninspired course, but it was a fun morning nonetheless. The course was essentially a five mile out and back on Denver's Platte River bike path, with a small loop at the start. There was a very gentle net downhill of maybe 100 feet to the turnaround and then a gentle climb on the way back.

I carpooled down with the Slushmeister, Nicole and Sarah Hansen, and enjoyed some good banter which made the drive fly by. Sarah was looking to run 65 minutes, Slush was hoping to hang on to her coattails, while I figured that I'd be happy with anything in the 56-57 minute range. Nicole was just looking to get a race under her belt after a long post-Ironman layoff.

After a gentle 3.5 mile warm up with the Fort Collins crew we lined up and got going. Off the start, I spotted Jonathan Huie, who beat me pretty convincingly in December at the Xmas Classic 4 Miler where I had a horrible run; this after I'd beaten him by a few seconds at the T-Day run in November. For the third time in three months then we'd be racing. In addition, Senor Jaime had filled me in the day before on some guy (Kenneth Foster) who was using this race as a tune up for the US Half Marathon Championships in Houston in two weeks, saying he was good for a sub-50 (per the RD). I told him I'd eat my shorts if anyone went sub-50 today. I also recognized Peter Maksimow in his Inov-8 outfit, after hearing his name called for second place in the five-mile race, which was run 75 minutes before the 10-miler. He'd be doubling down on the morning then, so I figured I might have his number.

Through the first few turns of the opening half-mile loop I took my time getting up to race pace. As we hit the bike path, I was running in fifth with Peter. Two guys - Ken Foster running for US Army and a guy in a Team Nebraska top - already had a good-sized lead, while Jonathan and A.N.Other were a few meters up in third and fourth. The first mile clicked at 5:38, which was right at the pace I wanted to be running. The effort felt very controlled, so I decided to put a little weight on the gas in a bid to keep third and fourth close. Not long into the second mile, it was evident that fourth had gone out way too hard, and I was soon around him sitting ten meters behind Jonathan, with Peter still on my shoulder.

The 5:24 second mile split seemed a little hot on paper, but felt good aerobically. My legs weren't feeling too spry, which is never a good sign early in a race, but I felt strong enough that I made the decision not to ease off, rather just hang in there and see how long I could hold on. Through the third mile, I got some separation on Peter but could see myself losing ground on Jonathan, so settled in and concentrated on hitting the tangents of the curvy bike path.

The third mile clicked at 5:29 and the fourth at 5:27, while the gap on third in front and fourth behind grew. It felt like there was a slight uphill pull on the fifth mile, and there were also some decent patches of snow and ice to negotiate, which caused the pace to slow just a touch. Somewhere before the turnaround, I also began to feel the lactic acid take hold in my legs and knew that the real work was just about to begin. However, having come away from the 5k in Lafayette last week with the sense that I 'd run a weak race mentally, I was bound and determined to give the Central Governor some attitude today.

Mile five, just before the turnaround, clicked at 5:39 for a front five of 27:39. I took a gulp of water at the 180 degree turn and then immediately felt the headwind. Ughh. No wonder that front five had seemed easier than the digits suggested they should have. With Jonathan still in sight 30-40 seconds ahead, I at least had a rabbit to chase in hopes that he would tie up, so I got my head down for the grind to the finish.

Coming back against the traffic, I saw Scott closely followed by Sarah who was running in sixth, not far off the girls directly in front of her, but certainly out of reach of 2008 marathon trialists Paige Higgins and Kara Roy who were running one and two. We exchanged mutual words of encouragement as we crossed and then it was back to the grindstone.

Mile six hit at 5:43, and given how I was feeling, the 5:20s and 5:30s were clearly history. It was now just a matter of hanging mentally tough and muscling as good a time as possible and maybe reeling in third. Mile seven came in at 5:49, and while the wheels felt like they were loosening, it didn't feel like they were going to come off entirely.

The mile eight marker seemed like it took forever to materialize, and in fact it never did, presumably blown down. Miles 8 and 9 combined for an 11:37 (5:48) split, and while the math wasn't coming easy, I finally figured out that I was essentially running at what I hope to be marathon pace in four weeks. As I contemplated this reality, while trying to muscle enough strength to stay on pace, I thought about the increased oxygen that would be on offer in New Orleans, the fresh tapered legs, and the fact that I was going to run a sensible evenly paced race that would involve zero miles below 5:30 pace. Okay, one more mile.

"Is third getting any closer? Uh, maybe, but you're not going to catch him. Keep squeezing for seconds."

While I maybe could have pushed a little harder in the last mile, I doubt I would have earned much more than 10 seconds on my final 5:47 split, as I was feeling pretty tapped. I ended up running 56:37, which was on the upper-middle end of the pre-race goalometer. Ideally I would have liked to have seen 55:xx on my watch, but 5:40s were really where I thought I would be.

Results.

If I manipulate, cajole and massage various different performance equivalency calculators enough, then accounting for altitude this performance (54:31 sea level equivalent, apparently) is good enough for a 2:32 in four weeks time.

Calculators smalculators, I say, but this is the first time I've got one of these stupid algorithms to show me a number I want to see. But then there's a reason why we run the races. I'm not giving up on the 2:29 just yet, but my mind is increasingly coalescing around 2:33 as the number.

For a race taking place in the dead of winter, the Quaker Oatmeal Festival does a great job of bringing out the runners for this annual 5k, both at the pointy end and among the masses. I think someone said there were 1,200 signed up to run today. Given the mild mid-30 degree temps, strong sun and proximity to New Years (resolutions), I guess I'm not that surprised. Apparently all it takes to bring out the big guns is a $400 prize purse, but I suspect that it's more about the chance to run against competition than it is the cash.

The later 9:30 start allowed for a reasonable lie in, despite the 60 minute drive down to Lafayette. Burch and I carpooled down, and after a brief $160 dollar pit stop courtesy of the local constabulary, we got to the start with plenty of time to run the course as a warm up. Bumped into Zack at packet pick-up, and he joined us for the leisurely course preview. The course was a little hillier than I was expecting, but the 90 degree turns were nice and wide, and the 180 turn looked okay, so not the fastest course out there, but fair.

Lining up at the start, Bob Sweeney asked me for my over/under prediction on how many women were going to beat me. He'd called three for himself and I called one, hoping that I could take down at least two of: Tera Moody (2:30 Chicago), Nan Kennard (2:35 on a tough Baltimore course) and Fiona Docherty (2:32 Chicago).

For once, I managed to control myself out of the gates and eased up to race pace. The first km involved a decent uphill pull followed by a nice descent. Knowing that the course was marked at the kilometers (makes sense for a 5k) rather than the miles, I was working on a goal of 3:18 pace or 16:30. Hanging a few steps behind the lead three girls, who were in a tight pack, I went through the first km in 3:15 feeling like things might be a touch hot.

Through the second and third kilometers I let the lead trio of ladies gap me by a few meters, and found myself slowing to a fair degree with the hills. Fiona had set out the zippier of the three, and was setting the pace, but from the looks of her form she wouldn't be holding it. Tera and Nan looked very smooth. My second and third kms, which were net uphill, came in at 3:25 and 3:33. Seeing the 3:33 on the 3rd split, and feeling decently in control, I decided I needed to up my game and embrace some pain if I was going to dip under 17.

With the exception of one mini-grunter, the last two kilometers were flat to downhill, so I was confident that the sub-17 was going to happen. I went by the last guy within reach on the final uphill and then set my sights on trying to run down Fiona who had now dropped a good five to ten meters off Nan and Tera. The fourth km came in at 3:19, and soon after I watched Nan put a strong race-winning move on Tera through the last two turns into the home stretch. As for me, I never could reel in Fiona, but finished feeling strong with a 3:18 last km, which was good for a time of 16:51 (5:25) and seventh overall (in the men's race).

As it turns out, the trail and ultra crowd were out in full force. John Tribbia was a few ticks behind me, and then in the ultra-guys-running-the-roads race, Bob S beat out Aaron, who out-kicked Ryan who in turn beat Scott Jurek, with George somewhere in the middle. With Joe Grant on course taking pics, there was a highly unusual concentration of ultrarunnners on hand.

Post-race we headed out as a pack for seven to eight additional miles at an easy warm-down pace. Having won the race within the race, I didn't feel the need to prove myself in the extracurricular rope climb contest - or, for that matter, in the proposed pull-up contest. A fun morning.

As far as where a 16:51 at 5,000 feet leaves me in regards to a marathon time at sea level, I am still highly unsure. I'm hoping for a stronger performance next weekend at the 10 miler in Littleton, as I plan to take two or three very light days beforehand (compared to 75 miles M-F this week). If I can run 5:40s or better there then I think I'll have the chops to hold 5:50s over 26.2 miles on rested legs at sea level in February ... or go down trying.

Results.

Yesterday was the 20th Towers session of the year, so to cap of a great season on the hill, we set out to conquer the infamous beer mile. Traditionally done on a track, we figured it would be much more exciting and generally more hardcore if we did it on the Fort Collins Trail Runners' track: The Big Hill.

The route went from the Nomad intersection to the Loggers intersection, which according to various GPS devices is exactly, or just a touch over a mile with 700 feet of vertical climb. To add to the general epicness of the event, we received our first real snow dump of the year in the 24 hours prior, and it was still coming down as the silliness got underway, oh and the thermometers were reading a chilly 10 degrees.


There were three race divisions among the 10 assembled runners: men, women, relay. Competing in the boys' race were myself, Pete (who had been playing up his drinking prowess for weeks), Alex, Slusher, and Bryan; in the girls' race Celeste, being the only entrant appeared to be the odds on favorite; while in the relay, the remaining girls (Marie Helene, Mary, Ean and Jennifer) would run the course together taking turns on the beer-consumption aspect of the race.

Beers were placed at quarter mile intervals up the hill, and a finish line was marked off in the snow at the Loggers signpost. At the top, Pete described the quarter mile penalty lap (a further quarter mile of running up the hill) that would be mandatory for anyone who blew chunks.

From the gun, Pete managed to live up to his pre-race talk by getting his first beer down a good ten seconds before Alex and I. By the quarter mile mark, I had pulled within five seconds of Pete, who appeared to be in a spot of early trouble. Despite some thunderous belches, I was finding that the beers were going down well, and that the running-with-a-gut-full-of-beer part was actually not too bad. I out-drank Pete by a landslide on beer number two, and headed out for the halfway point with a clear lead.

Official photographer, Mindy, was manning the third aid station (with perhaps the brightest headlight known to man), and she had an appetizing line-up of beers on offer. I was probably halfway done with my penultimate beer by the time the second bead of light appeared on the scene. To mine and Mindy's surprise, it was Alex, not Pete, followed soon after by Slusher. There was chatter of rainbow arcs and snow tigers at the second aid: Pete was clearly in trouble.

With the third beer down and a big lead, it was just a question of keeping the frothy mess down during the big half-mile climb to the finish. Ean was at the final beer station, camera in hand, and let me tell you that last beer was a true pleasure. As I was finishing up my 48th ounze of frothy Coors nastiness, Alex pulled in with what looked like a commanding lock on second.

Belching all the way, I crossed the Loggers finish line with my lunch intact in a standard-setting 18:25. Alex crossed in 19:50, breaking the 20 minute mark comfortably. Third overall, in perhaps the most impressive performance of the night, was Celeste who had posted a strong back half to overtake her husband Slusher between beer three and four.

Indeed Slusher ended up being edged out by Bryan for fourth in an exciting slow-motion sprint for the finish. The relay team posted an impressive sixth-place finish and then we all hung around at the top waiting for Pete to finish off his penalty quarter and claim his wooden spoon.

The descent on the cushy carpet of snow, in a semi-inebriated state was quite the ride, and more than a few spills were taken by most.