The 2017 San Francisco Marathon 52.4 Mile Ultra - Two Sides Of A Great City

Have you ever been to the Haight Ashbury district of San Francisco at 1am, weaving through the loud and crazy nightlife revelers, only to have those city vampires stare awestruck and say "whoa...now THAT guy is strange!"?

Ever run through the eerie calm of an empty Golden Gate Park and Presidio, dodging nocturnal wildlings of all shapes and sizes, and having to sprint from an owl attacking the glow of your headlight?

How about tracing that same route the next morning, joined by 29,000 others and cheered by a half a million more?

Thus is the unique experience that is the 2017 San Francisco Marathon 52.4 Mile Ultra, a double marathon option of this iconic big city race. Run the San Francisco Marathon course backwards at midnight with a crew of mobile aid stations, then join 29,000 runners at 5:30am to run the full marathon as the sun rises...a true urban ultramarathon to show you two sides of the same city.

It was Dean Karnazes who cooked up this scheme six years ago (he's known to run to the start of many of the big city marathons), and I've always wondered what it would be like to double up. Is it similar to back to back long runs? Or more like a 50-miler with a reaaaally long aid station break half way through? This was a chance to find out, and do so in the experienced hands of Race Directors Karen Tancuan, Lauri Abrahamsen, and Jason Clendenning, with the Immortal Race Crew handling mobile logistics. I was definitely in!

San Francisco Marathon Ultra - The First Lap

The run format shook up my normal race routine from the moment I left for the midnight start. I put the kids to bed, left my pajama-clad wife watching Game of Thrones with a glass of wine in her hand (and shaking her head in disbelief that I would opt for running over this), and suited up. About 60 other ultrarunners were there at the start, and I heard lots of different planned approaches to the race:

• Four-time 52.4 winner and marathon fanatic Graham Hedger was going out fast with the ideal low 60's weather. 
• Kowsik Guruswamy was going to take it easy so he could pace his friend through a first marathon in the morning. 
• Abel Alejandrino was raising money for the Muscular Dystrophy Association, proudly displaying his daughters picture, and prepping for the Angeles Crest 100m in a month. 
• Another runner planned to make it back in time to officially pace the 5-hour finishers (or not!).
• A young man from L.A. (with mother in tow) said he wanted to check the boxes for "saw San Francisco" and "ran an ultra" before he headed off to college in Pennsylvania in a few days. 

(Dean gives us a few words before the race starts, photo courtesy of Kowsik)

Dean Karnazes was here to make friends and enjoy the day, and was well on his way to both when he welcomed everyone at the start. The horn sounded right afterwards, and we headed down the Embarcadero. Let the adventure begin!

(There are friends who cheer, and then there are friends who show up at midnight with signs to cheer...Gabi wins!)

(The few, the crazy, the SF ultrarunners!)

("When the lights...go down...in the city", we run!)

I cruised along at my aerobic 7:30 min/mile pace (my goal for the whole day), and within two miles was well behind Graham Hedger in the lead. The lead bike had to go with the fast Brit, and the next thing we knew we were on our own for navigation! There were arrows and signs, but the city was alive and bustling with traffic, so you had to keep your eyes open (ears too - RunGo's turn-by-turn navigation of the course was a must). Abel and Carlsbad, CA's Stefan Asbock were smart enough to pair up a half mile behind me, as did most of the other runners.

I had foolishly thought the streets would be empty, forgetting this is a perfect summer night for clubbing in the Dogpatch, Mission, and Haight districts. The sidewalks overflowed with bacchanal on busy corners, and given the roads weren't blocked off for the marathon yet, we did our best to navigate through them. Luckily the cop-like brightness of my headlamp split most packs like Moses through the Red Sea. I'm sure a "you there...freeze!" would have been an order of magnitude more effective.

(City night running is fun! When it's empty...)

A few enlightened souls joined me running down Haight Street (mile 6), happy to share wine, herb, laughter, and song. My water bottles were empty, so it was tempting, but soon enough I found Robert Rhodes managing the mobile aid station (mile 7.5). He filled me up and sent me into Golden Gate Park, where I poorly navigated the sprinklers popping up everywhere.

(Dean gets a refill at the mobile aid station, photo courtesy of Robert Rhodes)

The park was eerily quiet and foggy, and aside from a few large raccoon and deer, there wasn't a soul to be seen. Usually this park has thousands of people in it...so strange to find it empty! Like the zombie apocalypse had drowned out the sun. Somewhere in the fog around the lake I made a wrong turn, but RunGo had me back on track within a half mile, and Chris Blagg and the Immortal Race Crew magically appeared to point me downhill towards the ocean and get back on track.

(Raccoons get to work, ha, ha)

I got one last glimpse of Graham (easily two miles ahead of me now) at the half way point, which I hit in 1 hr 44 min. That seemed like a good pace - fast, but not so fast I couldn't hold it through the next 1.5 marathons. The ocean tugged the fog in ebbs and flows as I ran along the Great Highway, and the headlights of fellow ultrarunners sparkled in the distance. I ran back up into the park, and made a quarter mile detour to get another runner back on track (she would have done the same for me) before hitting the neighborhoods. There aren't many neighbors out at 2am, but surprisingly, those that are walk their dogs and meet each other just like any other time of day. There wasn't anything strange about a guy running with a headlight and a number either - they just nodded!

As I got to the Presidio (mile 18), the street lights were few and far between, amplifying the solitude. I felt the wings of a bird come within a few feet of me....then again....then on the third try I realized it was an owl going for my headlight! Wha?!? What is the proper defense strategy for owl attacks, anyway? Go big and loud like you do with mountain lions? Play dead like with grizzly bears? I opted for the former, throwing in a sprint to the next aid station (mile 20.5), where Robert and the gang said they had been seeing that owl for the last 10 minutes. I guess we are on his turf!

(Robert Rhodes mans the mobile aid station...watch out for owls!)

I took the familiar path down to Crissy Field, watching the lights of the Bay Bridge reflect in the still waters of the Bay. This was fun! As I crossed into Fisherman's Wharf, dozens of rats scurried away from the trash cans set outside the chain restaurants, pretty much guaranteeing I will never, ever eat down there. Mary the bike guide rescued me and pulled me down the idle trolley tracks and into the finish in 3:36:29.

I had two hours to collect myself for lap #2, so I followed Graham's lead and got a full breakfast, plenty of water, and a 15-minute massage. Graham had finished in a screaming fast 3:05(!), but was already worried it would cost him in the second half. We were both far too energized from runners coming in to take a nap, so we changed into dry clothes and got ready for part two! The fresh pair of Injinji socks felt great, and the cushy inov-8 Trailroc 285's were handling the uneven pavement with ease.

San Francisco Marathon Ultra - The Second Lap

The SF Marathon, now in its 40th running, is a BIG race these days. I've run it a few times, but the record setting 29,000 runners who showed up today for 10k, two half marathon options, and the full marathon distances leave no doubt this race is now one of the biggies. In the starting corral, I heard no less than six languages, all of them excited to see the historic sites, and more than one busting out Journey's "Lights". I was feeling tired from the all-nighter (I am no spring chicken), but their energy was better than an espresso double shot!

(And the marathon begins!)

The rats were gone by the time this army of runners made their way to the Golden Gate Bridge (thank god), and I wondered if they were under the grates looking at us in a similarly disgusted fashion. The weather was cooler and windier now, the bridge a faint dusting of red in the fog. I assured the tourist runners "it was just there a few hours ago, I swear" as we climbed our way up into the wind.

(Friends find each other in the fog)

Four runners came across the foggy bridge in diamond formation, leading the race like the Blue Angels as we begin our out and back. Our own Jorge Maravilla was the lead jet, confidently pulling the pack through the headwind. The fog had a nice cooling effect, and most of the runners around me said it was preferable, despite missing the scenery.

(Kowsik has some fun crossing the bridge with runner cops)

My friend Joe Palubeski miraculously spotted me among the runners (he has a gift!) as he paced his buddy through his first marathon and captured it all on his GoPro. As we made our way across and back on the bridge, I realized this pace was going to keep me close to about two dozen runners around me. A Canadian women with rainbow braids, a 70-year man from Mexico with the coolest mustache, a 30-year-old guy from the Tahiti Tri Club, and a husband/wife couple from Spain with matching outfits, right down to the lycra pants covering their respective thongs (yes, you read that right). Hey, whatever makes you go fast!

(Runners take over the bridge, photo courtesy of Chris Lundy)

Once we entered the park (mile 10), the SF Marathon applied its genius logistics to infuse new runners from half marathons every mile or so. Some were fast, some were slow, and everyone was having a good time. I ran along with a group of 1:45 half marathoners, enjoying the look on their face when they asked "half or full?" and I responded "double". "What the faaaaahhhh.....duuuuuude!!!". ;-)

(Watch for sharks...)

It was easy to get around the lake correctly this time, and soon enough we were heading through the Haight again and downhill towards the Bay (mile 18). My energy started to wain (much like it often does at mile 40), and it was fascinating this felt exactly the same as if I hadn't taken a two hour break. I gorged on Stroopwafels, and leaned into the hill.

(Done!)

The sun burned bright in the last few miles, and I slowed to a 9 min/mile pace as the sun drained what little was left in my tank. It felt anti-climactic, right up until the announced said "an ultra finisher!" and the crowd went crazy. How fun! So rare to have such an audience at an ultra finish. I had crossed in 3:41:02, good enough for a combined time of 7:17:21 and 2nd Overall in the ultra. The volunteers jokingly gave me two of everything (water, bagels, protein bars, etc.), and when I took them up on two beers, I was asleep on a cot within five minutes. Whoops!

(With Penny "rubber chicken lady" Macphail, who said Jorge's son had stolen her chicken and hadn't been caught yet)

I woke up 20 minutes later, and rallied to come out and cheer on the other ultra finishers and thank the volunteers. Graham Hedger added his fifth win with an outstanding combined time of 6:31, and Stefan Asbock had an 18-minute negative split to come in third in 7:28. Abigail Cannon (9:50), Gabriel Anderson (10:18), and Alyssa Perry (12:32) filled out the Women's podium. (results) Jorge Maravilla had won the marathon in a crazy fast 2:28:23 (!), with Stanford student Devin McMahon winning the Women's in 2:52:49. (all results) The finish line was full of bling, with all kinds of extra medals for completing both half marathons, all distances, at least 40 miles, and more. The celebration was in full swing!

(Jorge Maravilla for the win!)

(Bling!)

Was the double worth it? Hell yes. Would I do it again? Absolutely. I have two new sets of memories to broaden my perspective on this great city. One thing for sure, with vampires, scavengers, swooping giant birds, and an unstoppable army, Game of Thrones has nothing on the San Francisco Marathon Ultra. My thanks to Dean, the RD's, and Immortal Race Crew for making it happen!

- SD

Running My Own Race At The Lake Sonoma 50-Mile (Guest Blogger Gary Gellin)

[The following post is brought to you by the incredibly fast Gary Gellin...go Team inov-8 and Team Inside Trail Racing!]

"Run Your Own Race"
Lake Sonoma 50 Mile - April 2013

Those of us who race almost any distance longer than a sprint have undoubtedly been advised by someone to "run your own race". Aside from the general acceptance that it is a way to run a personal best time at most distances, it is something not frequently achieved in practice. This has been on my mind since taking a different approach, and perhaps an experimental one, at the recent Lake Sonoma 50 mile race.

In recent years, Lake Sonoma - part of the competitive Montrail Cup Series - has drawn a growing field of elite runners while selling out all of its available entries in a matter of hours. Competition aside, it is a destination event with three days of fun including a Friday pasta feed party, a rugged and beautiful course to run on Saturday with gourmet tamales and microbrew at the finish line, and a Sunday winery tour and social gathering. It is the brainchild of Ultrarunning Magazine publishers (and patron saints of the sport) John Medinger and Lisa Henson. The somewhat intimate size of the event, at least compared to a big city marathon, provides a convivial atmosphere.

With a busy schedule this year consisting of one ultra a month from January through September, it made perfect sense to shift my focus for some of these races from what my finish ranking should be to an opportunity to refine pacing and fueling strategies. Every race is ideally a stepping stone. I felt that Lake Sonoma, with a relatively large number of top runners whom I might finish in front of or behind at other events throughout the year, was a good fit for figuring out how to race the clock while exercising the restraint of not racing other people.

(Start line mix of jitters and laughs. Photo by Holly Harris.)

It was expected that testosterone would take control of the pace from early on. 2012 was a course record year - one that saw the record fall by 50 minutes. What was a fast pace for the top 10 or so runners for the first half of the race in 2012 was an even faster pace for the top 20 this year. My approach, experiment really, was to attempt to run what should be my average effort for 50 miles for each and every mile along the way. The "go by feel" method doesn't work so well in this regard as pretty much no one feels very good at mile 49, and human psychology limits the ability to ignore the influence of the pace of runners around you in the opening miles. The approach I took was to run within a narrow heart rate range every step of the way. For 50 miles this works out to roughly 30 beats below my maximum heart rate and a span of about 7 beats to account for variation in terrain. It works out to about a 6:30 pace on a flat road.

(Gary Gellin and Karl Meltzer rolling past a group of equestrians. Photo by Holly Harris.)

The results along the way were somewhat promising. My splits through the halfway point were slightly ahead or even with those of last year, but that was probably due to having had a bit more fatigue going in to the 2012 edition. Running with steady effort as measured by heart rate produces an interesting effect on very hilly terrain. It's what Nick Clark (3rd place in 2012, 10th place in 2013) described as an "awkwardly choppy tempo" and I don't argue with his observation. I've seen the same thing with years of cycling while using a power meter. There is a natural tendency to dig deep on every climb and recover (or coast) through flat and downhill sections. I see it at every level of runner or cyclist from beginner to elite. My hope was that in avoiding a 50k effort on every climb, I'd have enough gas in the tank to run 50 mile pace in the closing miles. I knew from experience that hitting the red zone too early and often would set me up for a disastrous finish.

(Plugging away at the 30 mile mark. Photo by Holly Harris.)

The results were positive but mixed. I bettered my time by 9 minutes - most of that in the second half of the race. I went from 20th at the halfway point to 13th overall at the finish. Close scrutiny of the results puts me right in the middle of that fictitious category of runners I define as "semi-pro" or "expert". I was ahead, mostly, of those who suffered an "off" day. For much of the last 30 miles I ran, leapfrogged rather, with Karl Meltzer. Karl is arguably one of the best 100 mile racers in the world. 50 miles is not his specialty, but make no mistake, he can run hard and fast for the duration. Karl was on "autopilot" with his headphones on while I was "piloted" by my heart rate monitor, and we each
ran our own race in fairly close proximity until I succumbed to my all-too-familiar inner thigh cramps in the last 12 miles. Despite slowing down and even having to take a few brief stops, I passed four runners and somehow bridged back up to Karl with half a mile to go. I accelerated by him carefully and kept speeding up, for no good reason perhaps, all the way to the finish line. Max King, pre-race favorite who led the first half of the race at breakneck speed but slowed by 25% in the second half (while still finishing 3rd overall), teased me that I looked like I was finishing a 5k. In terms of effort, it's possible that slightly harder efforts on the climbs were warranted. On the other hand, muscular endurance (as manifested by cramping and reduction in speed) might have been compromised even more despite still having energy reserves to spare.

(Sprinting to the finish. Photo by Holly Harris.)

Endurance events of very long distance expose weak links in every individual in a way not seen as often in sub-marathon and even marathon distance - nausea, muscle cramps, biomechanical problems, exhaustion. This is apparent in the numbers of people who are able to run an even pace for an entire race. It is a vanishingly small number of runners in a 50 mile race who slow down less than 10% in the second half of a race. The median slowdown is around 20% and there is no discernible correlation between that number and whether the runner finished at the front, mid-pack, or in the back of the pack. You might expect that as records continue to fall, and as more runners take to the trails and run long distance, you will see front and mid-pack runners showing even splits. I spoke to Salomon International Team member Rickey Gates about this. He feels that a lot of the talent in the sport is not performing now to their full potential (himself included) and that split times in the future will be much more even or even negative. I think the ultimate parallel for this type of ultra distance runner are the top European bicycle racers. The famous bicycle racer and television commentator Bob Roll said that a Tour de France rider - after 3 weeks of incredible distance and intensity - becomes a machine designed to ride a bicycle. Some day soon we will probably see more of that same level of performance in ultramarathon running (and hopefully without performance enhancing drugs!). Sage Canaday is someone on his way to this level of performance. Sage not only won Lake Sonoma in course record time, but was the only runner in the top 50 overall who slowed down less than 10% in the second half of the race. I helped Sage get last year's winning split times the night before the race which he promptly wrote down in magic marker on his forearm. Despite being 5 minutes behind the leaders at the turnaround he had a 6 minute cushion to break the course record and did just that but with only two minutes to spare. Max King assures me that his own time to the turnaround, albeit a full 5 minutes ahead of Sage, was the right one for him had it been his "on" day, so we are likely to see that lofty course record fall again.

(Holly Harris, Gary Gellin, and 2013 Women's winner Cassie Scallon. Photo by Chris Jones.)

The upside to the discomfort and the complexity of the challenges faced by every entrant in an ultramarathon is that it forms a common bond. Ed Ayres describes this well in his book The Longest Race. Ayres looks back at how it would have been anathema to his high school coach for a runner to think of his competition as companions. Decades later while running the JFK 50 Mile, he reminds himself how companionship strengthens the spirit and that running his best would be helped by his hope that everyone else ran their best as well, including his age group competitors. Two people that I was rooting for at Lake Sonoma this year include Joe Uhan and Myles Smythe. Joe ran the fastest final 12 miles of all but one person in the race. Myles covered the final 12 miles slower than all but one finisher in the race. Joe had a breakthrough day. He profited from hard work on his biomechanics, diet, and training and is poised to improve this year at the Western States 100 over his stellar time from 2012. Myles is a fit runner with tremendous enthusiasm for both participating in and photographing trail races. He is an acquaintance I had misplaced, but we connected online to share a campsite before the race. His demon is debilitating stomach issues. He has been tenacious and unrelenting in his quest for a solution and I'm sure he will find it some day. I am reminded that there is no easy formula for extrapolating outside our normal comfort zone. Experience through trial and error along with trust in yourself chips away at obtaining elusive goals.

- Gary

Hot and Heavy at the Sierra Nevada Double Marathon

Last Saturday, I had the good fortune of joining 190 runners for the newly re-launched Sierra Nevada Endurance Run Double Marathon in Granite Bay, CA. There was heat, dirt, and plenty of challenging terrain, and thanks to the fabulous work of Race Director Julie Fingar and her volunteers we all had a great time. I proved to myself I was ready for my target race in November by DNF’ing (more on that later) and enjoyed watching our fellow ultrarunners brave 100+ degree heat to spectacular performances.

The day started early as Jean Pommier and I carpooled together at 3am, soon finding out that we had subconsciously calculated the travel time to Cool, CA, not Granite Bay, CA, and arrived 90 minutes early. Thank God for Mel’s 24-hour Diner, who was happy to serve up some breakfast for us. Jean ate his toast and marveled at the social and economic absurdity of the American 24-hour diner, which much to his credit, was practically empty and necessitated the question of economic viability. I revealed far too much about my teenage tribulations by telling him we were in between the two 24-hour diner rush crowds – the 2am closing of the bars, and the 6am beginning of the hard labor workday. Ahem!

(Breakfast at Mel's, photo courtesy of Jean)

Volunteer Stan Jansen (Godfather of ultra Web sites) got us situated, and we were soon toeing the line at 6:30am on a perfectly clear morning. Last year’s winner Mark Lantz was here, as was speed demon Chikara Omine, Jean Pommier, Joe Palubeski (tackling the newly established 100k), Juliet Morgan (100k), Carson Teasley (tackling the new marathon distance), Karalee Morris (marathon), the ever-present Barbara Elia (52 miles), and a dozen others taking on their first marathon or ultra. The sun cracked over the horizon, and Julie sent us off to chase it.

(Gathering in the dark at the start)

Lantz, Chikara, and Pommier set a fast pace from the beginning, disappearing along the single track. I ran with Joe Palubeski, Pierre-Yves Couteau, and Sean Lang who were all making the best of the cool morning to keep a fast pace. The weather was supposed to hit 100 degrees by noon, so enjoy it while you can! My goal today was to just clock some miles and try to pick up the pace along the flat sections. As a side bet, I had hoped to beat Jason Reed who was close to me in the PA/USATF point series, although we were both battling it out for 2nd-4th much in thanks to the stellar seasons of Victor Ballesteros, Erik Skaden, and Grant Carboni.

(Pierre and Joe lead me along the river trail)

The American River is beautiful this time of the day, as dark oak tree branches shade the golden grass and lush forest floor, and the warming sun battles with the cool river breeze. Pelicans and hawks stretched for their morning hunt, and jumping fish dimpled the calm, reflective river. There was so much nature going on, we frequently stopped conversations and just pointed, soon forgetting what we were just talking about. It’s a truly magical place and it was a privilege to share the morning together.

(A slice of heaven along the AR)

The aid stations at Twin Rocks (3.7 miles), Horseshoe (9.5), and Rattlesnake Bar (11.4) took us by surprise, and their eager volunteers had us through in no time. I picked up the pace a bit after Rattlesnake, hoping to catch up to Joe before we got to the big climb. My eagerness got the best of me, and I soon caught a toe and bounced down through a rocky technical section. Drat! As I gathered my senses I realized it was less than a quarter mile from the spot I face-planted at AR50 this year! The local trail troll is out to get me for sure.

(Fall is falling in Auburn)

I was bleeding and dirty, but nothing too bad. The hot sun felt like it burned right into my raw skin, so I spread some sunscreen into the wounds on my elbow, shoulder, legs, and hip (next invention – Neosporin with SPF45!). The adrenalin was like a double-espresso to my system, and I quickly caught up and passed two more runners. Sometimes I wonder if I crash on purpose just to get that surge of energy!

I reached the bottom of Cardiac Hill, but didn’t see a course marking that made sense. Up the road to the right was the AR50 route, and I seem to remember from the 2007 SNER that it didn’t go that way. But up to the left was steep and I didn’t see any course markings at the first fork in the trail. I decided to hang back and see what the other runners said. One, two, three of us grouped up before one of the marathoner Mats Jansson said “screw it, I’m going this way”. Turns out he was right, as evidenced by Bob the volunteer coming down the trail and saying that course markings had been vandalized. Bob was kind enough to lead the way up so we didn’t get lost.

As we climbed, I noticed my left foot was swelling so I did my best to keep off it. Pierre-Yves Couteau caught up to me and we passed the time chatting about the similar up’s and down’s of trail ultras and careers in the mobile phone industry. Like so many people I meet at ultras, he spoke of both with a contagious sense of adventure and optimism. I wonder, is it ultras that attract these eternal optimists, or do people become optimistic from running ultras? Not that it matters. It’s just fun to have a new best friend at every mile marker, and excuse to share some conversation to pass the miles.

(Chikara backtracks and catches up)

Mark Lantz had dropped at the Dam Overlook, and let me know that Chikara had accidentally gone up the AR50 route (he did get 3rd place this year, so perhaps it was instinct) and lost 10 minutes to turn around and go back. Jean Pommier was leading the race at this point, but Chikara was in hot pursuit. I cleaned up my wounds at the aid station, and Mark encouraged me to keep running and push as many fluids as possible.

I understood Mark’s advice as the heat finally hit us on the four mile descent to No Hands Bridge (mile 26.2). Despite having two full water bottles, I felt the need to nurse every drop. The sun left no shadows, only scars in the trail from its relentless heat. On a steep climb, I did inventory – legs good, stomach good, electrolytes good, but I was favoring my left foot more than I would have liked. I stopped and loosened my shoe up, and the swelling filled up as much shoe as it could muster. There was no pain, however, so I wasn’t sure if the swelling was due to injury or heat. I ran cautiously.

As I jogged down to the bridge, I surprised myself by contemplating whether to drop at No Hands. I had only dropped from a race once before (Quicksilver in 2008, which was an obvious decision), and I’m usually the type to just grin and bear it and see what kind of adventure lies ahead. I mean, it’s an ultra so it’s always going to be painful, right? And I certainly wasn’t in that much pain. But November 7th was a “goal race” marathon, and I winced at the possibility of losing the last precious month of training to a sprained ankle that I ran on 30 miles more than necessary. Is my 40-year-old body now erring on the conservative side? Or am I displaying maturity by staying focused on the goal race? Perhaps I’m finally mature enough to avoid another seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time story? Or do I have a severe case of wimpatitus? I closed my eyes and ran, looking inward for inspiration. At the turnaround, I thanked the volunteers and let Tim Twietmeyer know I was done for the day.

(Jason Reed makes the turnaround, on his way to an 8th place finish)

It’s so bizarre to drop from a race when you still feel good. Heck, it was only 10:30am! I cheered in the finishing marathoners, had some ice cream, and gave Jason Reed the thumbs up as he turned around and braved the ever-rising heat. By noon I was showered and resting at the finish line, feeling fresh from a Monsters of Massage rub down, and letting the volunteer crew spray “Nu Skin” over any spot of red they could find.

(Steve Itano and Kirk Lindesmith enjoy Popsicles at the marathon finish)

By the time Chikara Omine staggered in for the win (8:15:50), it was easily over 100 degrees. He quickly made his way into the air conditioned gymnasium, soon followed by Jean Pommier (8:17:40), and first woman Lia Farley (8:21:30). It took a good 30 minutes for each of them to get their core temperature back to normal, similar to the remaining finishers. Joe Palubeski (10:28:03) and Juliet Morgan (13:02:38, 4th overall) won the 100k, and Gerell Elliott (3:44:01) and Karalee Morris (3:55:20, 5th overall) cleaned up in the marathon. All of them were super-tough on a hot day! [results]

(Jean cruises in the final stretch for a 2nd place finish)

(Lia Foley wins the Women's division, third overall, with an impressive consistent run)

(Chikara recovers after his winning performance)

(Sean Lang rests after his 4th place finish, while I sport the cool new SNER t-shirt)

(The helpful volunteers patch me up)

(Jean definitely got his salt for the day)

(Brian Miller finishes in 6th overall)

Although I was proud of myself for making the wise choice to save for the big race, it never quite resolved in my head. That voice that tells me to quit mile after mile wasn’t quite sure what to do now that it finally got its wish! Still, it was a great day out on the trails mixing with Mother Nature, catching up with friends, and watching some amazing athletic performances. I will be back again for sure.

- SD

200 Take On Their First 50-Miler at AR50 This Saturday

Race Director Julie Fingar sent out the race-prep e-mail for the American River 50-miler this weekend. 650 runners (all-time high) with 200 first-time 50-mile runners. The sport is growing!

I love that Gloria Takagishi (going after finish #30!) will be donning bib #1. Sorry, Skaden...

- SD

Michael Wardian Continues USATF Champion Streak with Win at White River 50m

Michael Wardian added the USATF 50-mile Trail Championship to his collection (he has the 50k and 100k USATF Road titles as well this year) with a blistering 6:52:50 finish at the White River 50m last weekend. Wardian narrowly beat out 25-year-old Adam Lint from Indiana, PA (6:59:36), 2007 USATF 100-mile champion Jasper Halekas (7:04:25), and 2007 50k/100k road champion Greg Crowther (7:07:39) on a perfect weather day. William Emerson picked up the win for the Mens Masters (7:30:21) just ahead of 100k Trail Champion Mark Lantz (7:52:16). A shout out to Inov-8 Team member John Basham who took 8th (7:15:58) overall.

(Wardian on his way to a win, photo courtesy of Glenn Tachiyama; more here)

40-year old Suzannah Beck from Eugene, OR, took seven minutes off the course record to win the Women's (and Masters) Division in 7:32:12, placing 10th overall. She beat out a fast field and proved her 2008 WTC 50k win was no fluke, edging out Miwok 100k winner Kami Semick (7:42:54) and local Annie Thiessen (8:29:45).

(Beck makes ground to catch Kami Semick at mile 37, photo courtesy of Glenn Tachiyama; more here)

It sounds like all 202 finishers had a great day! (all results here) If you have a race write up, be sure and leave a link in the comments.

- SD

DNF at the Quicksilver 50m

Yup, you read it right. Despite a beautiful day and perfectly organized race at the 2008 Quicksilver 50k/50m last Saturday, I had my first ever DNF. In over 100 endurance events, that three letter acronym for “Did Not Finish” has never been next to my name in the results. Now there it is. And I’m feeling pretty damn good about it.

I had always wondered what it took to DNF, especially among the ultrarunner crowd. Like many endurance athletes, we share a collective “don’t quit” fortitude that gets us through all kinds of pain and misery. Isn’t DNF’ing a sign of weakness? Shouldn’t you just be able to power through anything the day dishes out and find that finish line? I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve seen people drop and say to myself “c’mon…you’ve got more than that”. Then again, I’ve also seen runners drop and think “that guy should have dropped 20 miles ago and will need an ambulance, stat”. Where is the line, and how is the decision made? I learned at Quicksilver that the decision sometimes comes easy.

The morning of the race, my body was trying to signal me that a 50-miler might not be a good idea. My resting heart rate was still 10% too high (which is the case when I’m recovering or overtrained), and my legs were still heavy from the Eugene Marathon six days ago. Usually I can slip back intro training 3-4 days after a marathon, but my speed test at the Eugene Marathon had taken a bigger toll than I suspected. But it didn’t “hurt”, so I packed my gear and hoped for a long run on tired legs for the upcoming Western States 100. Heat, hills, tired legs…sounds like a good simulation.

(Racers greet the sunrise)

At the start, I found I wasn’t the only one rubbing the soreness out of stiff legs.
Mark Lantz, Mark Tanaka, Jady Palko, and many others had done the Miwok 100k last weekend and were here to race the 50-miler. Sheesh! I only ran a marathon, so I guess I’m out of excuses. We lined up at the start with all the 50k and 25k runners and RD Paul Fick sent us off!

(My usual view when running with Devon and Tanaka)

The pace was brisk at the start, much in thanks to the short course folks taking off like banshees. Graham Cooper (QS50 course record holder), Victor Ballesteros, and Chikara Omine were setting a wicked pace for the 50-mile race, with Mark Lantz, Ian Torrence and Mark Tanaka not too far off. I settled in with Inov-8/Nuun Teammate Devon Crosby-Helms who was first among the women. Devon and I ran the 50k here last year, where she “took it easy” due to a health issue and still managed to win Women’s overall. This year she was kicking up to the 50-miler as part of her Western States 100 training, but was getting over the flu and was taking it easy again. Hmm, perhaps another win?

We hit the first few climbs along with Mark Tanaka, Jon Kroll (training for Western States), Sean Lang (training for the Cascade Crest 100), and Martin Spierings (just a month past Ironman Arizona, tackling his first 50k). Mark is good at pacing early and slowly turning up the heat, and his recent romp at Miwok hadn’t changed his tactics. We stuck with him for about a mile before he broke out on the single track and was out of sight.

(Jon Kroll and Sean Lang)

We hit the first aid station (mile 6) and soon spread out onto the fire trail. The weather was perfect, and Jon Kroll, Sean Lang, Marty Spierings and I kept a swift pace to make the most of the morning. My energy level was at about 80% and my legs felt heavy, but the chirping birds and Spring flowers lifted my spirits up enough to keep chugging along. It was great to chat with Sean, Jon, and Marty too, all of whom are having stellar seasons.

Jon and I hit the next aid station and stocked up before tackling a long, grueling hill. There was a lot of silence on this stretch as we each pulled/pushed each other to keep an strong pace. We caught up to Adam Rays (doing the 50m) and 30-year-old Toshikazu Hosaka who was tackling his first 50k, and began the first long descent to the Dam Overlook aid station (mile 18).

(Toshi and Jon start into the downhill)

The downhills felt unusually uncomfortable to me. That’s too bad, because the downhills at Quicksilver are super-fast and you can make up a lot of time. But I felt this odd soreness in my hip flexors and at the base of my hamstrings when I fully extended my legs. I promised myself that I would take a short walk break on the next uphill section if it continued. It subsided after filling up at the Dam Overlook Aid Station, so I picked up the pace again.

Toshi, Jon and I pushed the rolling hills and caught up with Mark Tanaka right near the bottom of the hill. I couldn’t believe Mark was doing so well so shortly after Miwok, and he had no trouble pulling away as soon as we got on his shoulder. I surged to keep up, but my hip flexors and hamstrings started having that deep, dull ache again. Something was definitely not right, so I slowed to walk up the hills and drank my water. I popped an ibuprofen and marked my watch for a 5 minute walk, as Jon, Mark and Toshi all ran off in the distance.

(Almost to Dam Overlook)

Getting back into a run stride was proving difficult. By the time I got back to the Dam Overlook (23.6), the deep pain was still there and literally “cramping my style”. I was doing the mile 60 shuffle, and I wasn’t even half way through a 50-miler! The reason was obvious – I hadn’t given my body enough time after the fast marathon in Eugene, and now all of the parts I overstretched at that race were coming back to haunt me. Why wasn’t I ready to race again?

Then I realized my mistake. I had changed my race goal at Eugene! It was supposed to be a long, slow run, but I decided to go fast once I found out I would be running solo. I didn’t even think about the ramifications for Quicksilver, and now I was deep in it. Darn. I hate it when the culprit turns out to be my own bad judgment. ;-)

I took my time up the long climb back, sharing smiles with the runners heading down and snapping a few pictures. As I topped the peak and started heading down the next valley, my hip flexors gave me a choice – either take 4 more ibuprofen and grit through it, or you better be dropping soon. My instinct said to tough it out and do the distance, but my brain started playing out the six weeks between now and Western States. Tough it out, and you risk showing up at States injured. DNF, and you can stick to your training. Lord knows I can’t wait another three years to get into Western States. When you put it that way, a DNF doesn’t sound so bad.

(A perfect day in the shade)

(Chihping Fu and I trade pictures)

(Everybody smiles on the downhill)

So I made up my mind to drop at 50k, had a big snack at Englishtown (mile 27), and kept my running to a controlled shuffle. Suzanna Bon came flying by me on the downhill, well ahead in the Women’s division for the 50-miler. Not much later, Graham Cooper was heading back out for part II, a few minutes ahead of his course record pace and with Victor Ballesteros and Chikara Omine right on his tail. Chikara always has some kick and Victor usually pounces at the end, so this was certain to be a crazy finish!

Michael Buchanan (50k) walked with me for a bit in the last mile and shared stories of his own marathon recoveries. He is no stranger to fast marathons (he’s a sub-2:30 marathoner), so I felt much better after talking to him. He took off to squeeze under 4:40 for the 50k, and I came in around 4:42 and let them know I was dropping. The RD’s were great to make sure I wasn’t just wimping out (since I was still smiling), but also let me know I was the first DNF. Double ouch.

Any issues I had about DNF’ing were soon relieved by the next group of 50-milers who all dropped. Devon Crosby-Helms felt her flu dropping into her lungs, so she stopped instantly. Sean Lang was also saving up for a full weekend of training, and Jady Palko dropped to make sure he recovered from Miwok. These folks are all smart runners and dropping for similar reasons, so I felt like I was in good company. In talking with them all afterwards, most of us knew there was a fair chance we wouldn’t make it, but stubbornly didn’t step down to the 50k. (note – you don’t get 50k credit at Quicksilver for dropping, but you can opt up, so I would suggest to anyone contemplating a 50k drop to race the 50k and move up to the 50-miler if you feel good at the end) But we still got to enjoy the BBQ and beer, and we were all feeling good about our decisions. I only felt bad for Devon, whose 50k split would have been enough to win the Women’s 50k by 10 minutes. ;-)

(DNF'ing can be fun!)

In the end, Graham Cooper won the QS50 for the third time, taking three minutes off his course record for a 6:35:28. Chikara Omine snuck under 7 hours with 6:59:36, while Ian Torrence got third (7:19:18) and Mark Tanaka toughed it out for fourth and winning the Masters division (7:22:20). Jon Kroll did an amazing time of 7:42, so he’s well on his way for States. Suzanna Bon won the Women’s division in 7:45, nearly an hour ahead of Francesca Conte (8:39:44) and Kelly Cronin (8:45:12). In the 50k, first time ultrarunner Scott McClennan crushed the competition in 3:51:58, with Nate Bowen (3:58:03) and the ever-fast Ron Guiterrez (4:14:21, Masters winner) rounding out the top 3. Florencia Gascon-Amyx won the Women’s division in 5:03:06.

I should have known better than to race so soon after a marathon PR, and should really know better than to change my training plan. But given the circumstances, I am pleased with my decision to stop. The day was not a failure by any means – a great run in the mountains, catching up with good friends, and enough time left in the day to get Mother’s Day planned. For me, DNF means “Did Not Fail” to see the big objective, despite the lure of another ultra finish. I have a newfound respect for those three letter next to anyone’s name.

Cheers, SD