Dan Olmstead

Frozen Trails 50K

2011-12-27T11:02:00.000-08:00

The frozen trails 50K is a fun little event run about 10 miles east of Eugene at Mt. Pisgah. The course has about 4000’ of climbing and often is very muddy. The racers run around Mt. Pisgah a total of four times. However there are three variations of the loop that take you up to different fractions of the summit. Due to a rather unusual dry fall, the trails were in much better shape this year than they were last year. The course this year also added a small out and back to one of the aid stations which made the overall course about 600 meters longer. Due to the drier conditions and possibly my rusty ability to pace myself for an ultra, my first three laps around the mountain were quite a bit faster than last year. Headed out for the last lap I think I was about 15 min. under last years’ time. I think I did a good job of taking in calories however my fluid intake was embarrassing. Approaching the summit loop I was starting to fall apart and my climb up to the top turned into little more than a slow walk. I also lost about 5-8 minutes at the base of the climb when one of the turns was unmarked. When you add it all up, my 15 min buffer was gone and I finished in about the same time as last year. No matter, it was great to be running long again and I did better than I expected.

EWEB Run to Stay Warm Half-Marathon

2011-12-14T21:09:00.001-08:00

Well it has taken me a long time to recover from Western States. My knees seem to be bugging me. It was frustrating to miss the summer running and two of my favorite races, Waldo & McKenzie. I had a few false starts, but I think I’m finally getting my groove back (slowly). I have been doing some speed work and decided to run the Eugene Water and Electric Board (EWEB – it’s where I work) “Run to Stay Warm” half-marathon. It’s a fundraiser for folks who are having trouble paying their electric bill.
The race went well I think. My fitness seemed good, but my muscles were not quite ready for that. My butt and hamstrings were especially not ready to run that fast for that far. Anyway I was happy with the time of 1:15:29 (5:45 pace) and I didn’t get hurt.

Western States 2011

2011-07-07T18:18:00.000-07:00

My first Western States in 2009 really shook me up. It made me question my ability at the 100 mile distance and even my relationship with ultra-running in general. I’m not going to take anything for granted, but 2011 Western States was an amazing journey and has slayed just about all of those past demons. However this race didn’t feel like some sort of “triumph over adversity” but was more an expression of my enjoyment of running. My best races always are rooted in joy, and this was probably one of my best.

Western States is a big deal in the ultra-running community and of the utmost importance among my training partners. Because of my adventures in 2009, this race had even more significance to me. However, I was strangely calm in the days leading up to the “big dance”.

We arrived in Squaw on Thursday before race day and caught up with a few friends before heading over to the Montrail dinner. Friday was an easy three-mile run with friends, crews and pacers and at the medical check after, I weighed in at 136.6 pounds—about average for the past few months. Dave Mackey, volunteering at the check in, measured my heart rate at 48 beats per minute. He informed me this was the low for the day—another indicator of my strangely calm pre-race demeanor.

My goals going into the race were:
· Finish on the track in Auburn and not the hospital
· Arrive in Forest Hill in good shape and finish in under 24 hours
· Hold 2^nd place in the Montrail Ultra-cup
· Enjoy the experience and run my own race

Except for the Montrail cup, these were fairly low key and mundane goals. I didn’t care—2009 really, really, really sucked and I was not going to let that happen again. I was genuinely looking forward to an awesome day on the trails and not much more.
At 5:00 am on Saturday, June 25, we were off! I used a mix of fast hiking and mostly slow running to climb the Escarpment. Every now and then I glanced up the hill to see the race developing. Folks were grouped tightly and proceeded at a surprisingly reasonable pace for the start of a 100-mile race. Maybe this wouldn’t be the hammer fest it was in 2009.

At the Escarpment I topped off my bottle, and grabbed two PB&J quarters. Shortly after the PB&J I worked my way through a Cliff bar. The next aid station was approximately 12 miles away and the snow conditions were proving to be a real test of my foot work—technical running is always more taxing than I realize. Visions of gentle plunging, stepping and sliding down the far side were not to be. Skinned knees, bruised hands, lost water bottles, and dropped GU’s were all a testament to the difficulty of the icy terrain which included large tree wells, subsurface rivers, and hidden logs.

The Talbot Aid Station was a welcome sight after our cross-country trek. I topped off my bottles, grabbed some Coke, helped myself to a hot ham and cheese sandwich and headed out. The snow tapered off and soon we were running on gravel roads. I had promised myself I wouldn’t run too fast to make up time, but I felt strong and comfortable and in elite company, running with Glen Redpath (M7, 2010). I just hoped we weren’t overdoing it.

The next aid station was Poppy, mile 20.0 at French Meadows Reservoir. Another sandwich, more Coke and a banana chunk—the food theme for the day. From Poppy to the next aid station at Duncan Canyon, mile 23.5, we were at last on a single track, weaving in and out along the reservoir. I lost a little momentum in this area. At first I slowed just enough to get the sandwich down, but the easier pace persisted for awhile— I was still concerned I’d hit the roads too hard earlier and several runners passed me. As the trail pulled away from the reservoir and we started climbing up to Duncan Canyon, the sun shone down in earnest and I donned my sunglasses.

At Duncan Canyon, mile 23.5, it was exciting to know we were, at least momentarily, on the traditional route. Normally we would have headed north out to Robinson Flat, but due to snow we proceeded down into canyon and then climbed back up to the Mosquito Ridge aid station. At the aid station it was more Coke and another PB&J. I lost AJW and Glen on the descent, but caught them on the climb to Mosquito Ridge, despite fighting some cramping.
Mosquito Ridge, at mile 31, was the first weigh-in; I was down 4 pounds from the start. Seeing this, plus feeling the cramps, confirmed I needed to increase my sodium intake. I grabbed more Coke, and… more ham and cheese this time in a wrap! Miller’s Defeat was the next stop and we would be back on the original course. Heading out onto the normal course was incredibly comforting: I knew what to expect and how to run the rest of the race.

Intermittent snow peppered our route to Miller’s Defeat. Pucker Point Trail led us to Dusty Corners at mile 38 with some beautiful views of the forks of the American River. More dirt roads found us at mile 43 and the Last Chance aid station. At this point, the front group was fairly spread out and this was really the start of running alone for the next 50+ miles. I needed to forget about the race, find my groove, and prepare for the canyons.

From Last Chance, we began the first major descent to the swinging bridge. I repeated a mantra Craig had given me at camp: “Preserve the vessel!” The descent went well and my quads felt strong. I was greeted at the bridge—also the start of the Devils Thumb climb—by Scott Dunlap in a devil costume. I gave him a hearty “Arrgh!” I suppose that’s really more of a pirate yell, but I’m not sure what a devil sounds like. I speed hiked almost the entire Devil’s Thumb climb. Near the top, Graham Cooper and another international runner passed me.

At the Devils Thumb aid station I weighed in at 140 pounds. Cramping was no longer a problem and since my weight was up, I decided to back off of the sodium. I had another good “preserving the vessel” descent into the El Dorado canyon and a solid climb back up to Michigan Bluff. This time I did quite a bit more running as the climb up to Michigan Buff is longer but much less steep than the Devil’s Thumb climb. By this time the day had warmed up and while it wasn’t super-hot, I was taking care to douse myself at the creek crossings.

I arrived in Michigan Bluff around 2:00 pm, which was about an hour faster than 2009, and much faster than I expected to arrive this year. More importantly, I was feeling good. Courtney greeted me and after the weigh-in—136 pounds and back on track—guided me over to where the Sunsweet folks were camped out. I picked up new bottles, an ice-filled handkerchief, and a turkey-avocado sandwich. John Ticer walked out with me while I finished my sandwich. The Volcano canyon section went well and I ran up nearly all of Bath Road.

I arrived into Forest Hill at mile 62 in 13^th place. I felt great, my weight was good, and I was looking forward to some solid running along the 18-mile Cal Street section, unlike in 2009 when I dreaded the downhill at this point. I was also an hour ahead of what I thought was possible. In all, I was still enjoying the whole experience and was actually glad it wasn’t going to end too soon.

The station passed in a blur—my parents were present volunteering, I met my pacer John Coulliard, and we ran along, buoyed by the energy of friends, spectators and volunteers. I felt very comfortable at a quick pace, soon caught two other runners, and then passed Hal sitting on the elevator shaft with blown-out quads. This put me into 10^th place. I lost a little momentum at the river bottom but I arrived at the boat crossing at mile 78 still feeling good. At the crossing, I picked up Joe Palubeski who would pace me into the finish. I ate some fruit, but I was mostly done with solid foods, grateful for a small bottle of chocolate milk Courtney offered. She informed me AJW was not far ahead and that I was reeling in some of the other front runners.

Joe and I had a good hike and run up to Green Gate, mile 80, and I was once again eager to roll the flat trails through ALT to Brown’s Bar at mile 90. My pace on these flat sections was really good and felt comfortable, but it was taking less and less of a hill to give me an excuse to walk. I was ready to be done. At about 15 miles to go I really started my count down.
I arrived at Highway 49, mile 93.5, still in 10^th place with daylight to spare. Highway 49 had special significance—it’s where I dropped in 2009 and took an ambulance ride to the Auburn hospital. I was pretty tired, but I was running an amazing time and would definitely be finishing the race. I was so happy with how the race had gone I found it really hard to push through the fatigue and stay competitive.

On the decent down to No-Hands Bridge, I slowed to put on my head lamp. As I fumbled with the straps, Ian Sharman and his pacer flew past me. I knew part of that was for show—that’s how you pass people late in a race—but I knew there was no way I was going to stay with him. I was out of the top ten, but considering how well the day had gone, I found it difficult to stay disappointed. I had a fairly slow section from Highway 49 to the track, but I got it done and had a nice kick into the finish.

During my training runs, I often thought about the last mile from Robie Point to the finish, expecting the final minutes of the race to be overwhelming, emotional, joyful and bittersweet. I pictured hugs and tears and perhaps even an elated collapse. But, at that point, every part of my race came together—hydration, nutrition, pacing—and I found myself focused on just getting the job done, pushing myself to the final steps on the track. Western States was not some obstacle to triumph over, but an amazing day of running that I had experienced to the fullest.

In the end, I met all my goals and exceeded even my best expectations. I really couldn’t be any happier and I would probably count Western States 2011 as one of the best races of my life. Thank you to all my friends and family for your support and confidence. Most of all, thank you to my training partners who make this sport so much fun.

Miwok 100K

2011-06-07T17:19:00.000-07:00

The Miwok 100K was a great time all around. I traveled down with Sunsweet teammate and friend Meghan Arbogast, We stayed with Rob Cain in Ashland, and Tim and Diana Fitzpatric in California. I have heard so many great things about Miwok over the years and I have always wanted to be a part of it. I really lucked out getting into the race given how popular it is.

The race was everything I had pictured, views of the golden gate and city, open meadows plunging down to the ocean, redwood forests, a well-marked course with great volunteers. Miwok still has the feel of well used local ultra, but has attracted some of the best talent in the nation.

My race shaped up well in the end. I stayed with the lead pack up to the 33 mile turn around. I was feeling within my comfort zone and a little surprised to be with such talented runners so far into the race. Things changed quickly at the turnaround however. I was probably working harder than I realized. I had been taking gel about every 20 min. and a total of maybe 6-7 S! Caps. At the Randall Trail aid station I grabbed a bit of banana, potatoes & salt. I thought I was doing a good job of taking care of myself but soon I was feeling dizzy and lagging behind the pack. I didn’t want to mess around with trying to push through the dizziness so shut down the race for a while. I decided to stop with the gel because it didn’t sound good any longer and for some reason it became my prime suspect. Other than some coke at Bolinas ridge (mile 41.1) I didn’t take any calories in for about 2 hours. I did a fair amount of walking needless to say. When I got into Pan Toll (mile 47.8) I decided I was going to just sit down and get myself straight before continuing on. After a nice picnic with one of the aid station volunteers, 6 cups of coke, a whole PB&J, two granola bars, and two handfuls of chips I was feeling much better. Sometime during the granola bars Scott Jamie passed through followed shortly by Yassien. I was off again, this time feeling much better. I think I may have taken only one more gel between 47.8 and the finish, so I was bonking pretty good again by the end. I also took 3 S! Caps to fight off some minor cramping that was starting to creek up. With 2 miles to go, I saw my folks waiting to cheer for me. Mom and Dad (Carol & Jeff) live in Sunnyvale where I grew up so this was not to long of a drive for them. They had other obligations so I didn’t think I’d see them but there they were with a big sign that said “DAN RUN FOR FUN! Love Mom & Dad”. I finished 7^th with a time of 8:48.

On the drive home I was swimming in the tide of emotions that always floods in after a big day of racing. At the end of a strong day, I’m a mountain. I love everyone, and no problem in my life seems like it should take longer than an afternoon to sort out. When things don’t work out and I’m reduced to a puddle, my entire ego vanishes and I feel deeply connected to everyone supporting me and sharing in the experience. As far as post-race emotions go, they are both wonderful. I got a little of both from Miwok.

Peterson Ridge Rumble 40 mi

2011-04-13T20:36:00.000-07:00

Say you have a 50K race on a Saturday and a 40 mile race the following week on a Sunday. When you put them on your calendar it sort of appears as though you have a weekend rest in between. I know it sounds strange, but what appears to be a rest weekend is actually the Sunday of the 50K weekend and the Saturday of the 40 mile weekend. Oops. Anyway, I didn’t feel like the April 2 Shotgun 50K set me back too much so I was feeling ready to take on the Peterson Ridge Rumble on April 10.

The Rumble promised to be much more competitive with the defending champion (also new dad and my most favorite positive-energy runner) Yassine Diboun along with several other fast folks. The Rumble is normally about 60K but race director Sean Meissner opted to move it up to an even 40 miles this year. I ran the Rumble a few years ago and it’s a fairly fast course with about 2000 feet of climbing total and nice forgiving mixture of trails and gravel roads. The drier landscape east of the Cascades was also a welcome change from the rain and mud of Eugene.

From the gun, Yassine took off, hitting a 6:15 pace… way too fast for my liking! I settled into a chase pack of four other guys. I led the charge up the first single track until I missed a strange detour that took us off the trail and up and over a short rock outcropping. I fell back behind the group as we resumed our pursuit of Yassine. Eventually, I could feel the group start to move into a true ultra pace which was nice, but I was not quite ready to let Yassine say out of our sights for too much longer. I pulled back up to lead the group and sped up to just below our comfort level. Soon enough, we could see Yassine and I knew we would get a little rest once we re-joined him. Jace Ives went with me and Nick Triolo was not far back. Once Jace and I joined Yassine we settled a bit as we chatted and started passing the 20 mile runners.

I was experimenting with Hammer gel in a flask, completely annoying at first as it bounced around in my shorts pocket. Eventually I got used to it and overall it worked fairly well, except I needed to do a better job of tracking how much I was getting in my mouth. Hammer gel is a little thick so I don’t think each squeeze I took was not quite a “serving” size. I was also experimenting with Gu2O which is the drink they will have at Western States. Using the 3 scoops per bottle recommended was way too sweet and my stomach would have protested. I topped the drink off with water a few times. I started taking S!Caps about 30-40 into the run and took them about every 30-40 minutes after that. It was a cool day and I wasn’t sweating a great deal. Overall my hydration, electrolytes, and fluid were good the whole day. I feel like I’m getting much better as this part of the race, which I think has been my biggest weakness. (My wife is very glad to hear this.)

On the way back down the first loop, Yassine and Jace started to crank it up again and we rolled down to the flat gravel road near the start at a good clip. Once we hit the gravel road Yassine upped the pace again and I started to fall off a bit. Jace worked to keep up but as we turned up for the second loop he to started to fall off. Yassine was making a decisive move and continued to press the pace all the way up to the top of the second loop. Soon I started to lose sight of him even though we were on fairly open roads. Jace started to have stomach issues about half way up and as I passed him, I thought I heard some burbling sounds. Uh, oh. At the top of the long climb there was an aid station around mile 30. I topped off my bottle grabbed a few gels and as I left one of the volunteers encouraged me: “He’s about a minute up on you… It’s a RACE!”

When you are watching the leader pull away and you’re working really hard, you start to reassess your game plan. I hadn’t given up, but hearing the aid station worker’s words really helped. One minute isn’t very much over 10 miles and I was still feeling strong and I knew that Yassine’s last surge might have cost him something. So, I went, and eventually with what I thought was 3 or 4 miles to go I caught him. He said he was having some cramping. I offered some S! Caps but he said he had just taken two.

I kept the pace quick and was feeling good. I didn’t know how much further we had exactly but I felt I could keep the heat up for at least another 30 minutes. The finish came faster than either of us expected and soon I was rounding the track. Feeling the rush of winning, I decided to take the hurdle at the end, which seemed like a good idea until I was halfway over. Luckily, I cleared it and finished in a time of 4:26:26 with Yassine just shy of a minute behind me. 4:26:26 is about 6:39 pace. We were definitely fast but I’m not sure we were that fast. I think the course may have been closer to 39 miles, but hard to say for sure.

What an awesome day! The Rumble was just that. Only a few times did I feel like I was just out doing a 40 mile run. Most of the time I was really racing. Thank you to Yassine, Jace and Nick for pushing us all, and helping me celebrate my birthday week-end.

Shotgun Trail Blast 50K

2011-04-13T20:27:00.000-07:00

Well it sure felt good to race again. I missed running Hagg Lake 50K in Feburary due to an illness, so I haven’t done a race since early January. When I was sick I didn’t run for a solid 2 weeks, so I had some catching up to do anyway. By the time the Shotgun Trail Blast 50K rolled around on April 2^nd, I was really ready try out my winter training.

The Shotgun Trail Blast was another small local race put on by the Eclectic Edge folks and was held about 30 minutes east of Eugene. The course was two 25K loops, each with about 2000 feet of climbing, maybe 5-6 miles of trails and 10 miles of logging roads. There were only 9 of us in the race as most of the folks were running the 25K. The aid stations had water and Gatorade a few snacks. They also had radios and took our splits at the start/finish and out on the course. I brought my own gels.

Mid-way through the first loop, I realized that Cameron Hanes, a talented ultra-runner and extreme hunter was only a short distance behind me. That kept my pace honest. I came through the first loop in 1:57:20 and I spent a little time at my car getting some more gels & fluid before heading out for the second loop. I felt like I had run the first loop fairly solid, but was still feeling strong. I ran the second loop in 1:55:41, an overall time of 3:53, average pace of 7:31, first place, and a nice negative split.

I enjoyed the course, the route was well marked, and there were just enough volunteers to make it all come together. I felt grateful to have a 50K race so close to home, and it was fun to chat with everyone after the race.

Bandera 100K

2011-01-20T21:17:00.000-08:00

Bandera was a wonderful time with friends and a great race.

Goals: I was hoping to keep my time as close to the leader as possible for earning Montrail points, possibly place in the top 3 take home a little prize money, and most importantly - enjoy a full day of supported running in a new and beautiful landscape. There were some big names in the race and at least on paper, a top 5 place let alone a top 3 looked out of the question. But things never go according to plan in these events. Being that this was really only my third race over 50 miles, I also was hoping to build some additional confidence at these longer events.

There was a big group of us going to the race including Craig and Laurie Thornley, Pam Smith, Meghan Arbogast, and Jeff and Laura Riley. For the most part we traveled on the same flights, rented a van together, and all stayed at the same house. Honestly, it was more of a vacation with friends than a weekend of hard racing.

Unlike last year where the temperatures were in the single digits, our weather was just right. Cool at the start, warming up in the morning, then just when it started to get a little hot the clouds moved in and cooled it down again. Just before the start I decided to ditch my hat, arm sleeves and gloves. The aid stations were all about 5 miles apart, and because it wasn’t hot most of us went with just one bottle.

From the gun there were a whole bunch of folks that took off, which always makes me a little nervous, but I knew would most likely provide a day full of passing folks, which is better than the other way around (like at JFK). Most of them came back within the first four miles. From the start to the first aid station the trail has two climbs and is difficult rocky footing. All the hill climbs are relatively short, maybe 300+ ft, but the loose rocks and grade make them difficult. Around mile four I caught up with Jason Bryant of NC and one other runner. At the first aid station “Nachos” (m5.6) I grabbed a cup of something we were out at 0:46, only a tad bit faster than the frozen leaders of last year.

The three of us ran together for the most part to the next aid station “Chapas” at (m11.4) 5 miles. The section from Nachos to Chapas was much more runnable with no major hills and less rock. I filled my bottle at Chapas and I was out at 1:26. Aside from a few long gradual rocky climbs along the powerlines, the tail remained very runnable from Chapas to the next aid station at Cross roads. Jason and I regrouped and we caught and passed Chikara Omine, who was second last year. He seemed to be running fine, just slower on the rocky climbs. Jason pulled ahead a bit but we were together as we pulled into Cross Roads (m16.9). I left Cross Roads at 2:07 and on the three sisters loop section which was rocky and hilly Jason pulled ahead for the last time. He had about a minute on me when I left Cross Roads for the second time (m 21.9 2:46) and after a porta-potty break I lost another minute. I stayed about 2 minutes behind Jason most of the rest of the race. The first half of the section between Cross Roads and Lucky Peak was runnable but then it starts to get rocky and hilly again. The trail remained difficult through Last Chance aid Station (m 26.1 3:22) and onto the finish (m 31 4:07) with the Lucky Peak, Cairn’s climb and Boyle’s Bump. Well except there were some nice fast parts along the top.

I felt like I was running very relaxed, but started to feel the distance around Last Chance aid station on the first loop. However, 4:07 seemed like a good time for the first 50K and was under the course record pace. I just had to focus on minimizing the second loop slowdown. I was 5:02 at Nachos (m36.6) and 5:52 out of Chapas (m42.0).

I suppose I’m getting better at the hydration and nutrition, but I often feel like I’m doing a lot of bad guess work. I was fighting off cramping most of the day, but never had any real serious issues. The race had Heed at the aid stations and my stomach really liked that, but it was making me feel bloated. I switched to water from Chaps to Cross roads (m 47.9 6:42) and felt tons better but after more cramping I got nervous about going without the added calories & electrolytes and switched back on the three sisters loop back to Cross Roads (m 52.9 7:31). Running into Cross Roads the second time I just caught sight of Jason leaving. Laura Riley was there to help and I switched bottles to my EFS fluid. By this time Craig had finished his 50K and told me that Bryan had seen me also and looked nervous. I was thinking maybe he would get excited and run too hard for a while and then maybe I could catch him in the last section. Unfortunately my EFS drink didn’t sit well, and I couldn’t drink or eat at all over the next section. I switched back to the Heed at Last Chance. (m 57.1 8:11) At the Last Chance aid station they told me Jason now had 3 minutes. You never know, but he seemed out of reach at this point. However, with 4.9 miles to go I had a solid chance of getting in under 9 hours. I felt better and better, and had a great last section which was only 1 minute slower than my first lap split. I felt like I was flying down the decent and the only thing keeping me from going faster was the cramping. I knew I would break 9 hours. Then at the toe of the Boyles Bump decent I saw Jason’s yellow jersey. I was gaining fast, but wasn’t going to catch him. I finished 4^th just 23 seconds back in 8:57:42. Dave Mackey was 1^st in 8:16 (which didn’t help me much for the Montrail points, but he took an impressive hour off the previous C.R.) I found out later that Geoff Rose had dropped out after the first 50K, Dave James was second in 8:33.

It was an awesome race, I had a great time with my friends (who also really enjoyed the event) and it really ended on a positive note.

Frozen Trail Fest 50K

2010-12-31T08:49:00.000-08:00

I was looking for a small event to run sometime between JFK and Bandera and was pleasantly surprised to discover that a local (and extremely active) running event management group Eclectic Edge Events was hosting a 50K with 5 (!) other shorter options at Mt. Pisgah. The course was hilly and very muddy. We ran 4 loops around the park, with 2 of the laps taking us close to the top of the hill, one nearly to the top and the last loop up and over. This was probably not quite as the hilliest 50K in Oregon, McDonald Forest, but was muddier than the muddiest 50K in Oregon, Hagg Lake 50K. My goal was to get in a long run at a good (but not race) effort. I also wanted to do a good job of nutrition and hydration. Everything went well, I won the race in 4:34 (out of maybe 20 entrants) and didn’t take too long to recover and get back into training. Pam Smith, from JFK 50mi and who will also be running the Bandera 100K with us in a week, won the women’s race. Ultras are much different to organize than road races, and I thought the folks at Eclectic Edge did a great job. The following photos from the race are from Michael Lebowitz, who did a great job of capturing the event.

JFK 50

2010-11-30T19:24:00.000-08:00

The JFK 50 in Maryland on November 20, 2010, was an interesting mix of ultra-running and old-school small town road race. For example, when I entered, I sent in a return address stamped envelope which I received back with a little slip telling me I was entered. Of course, I could also just look at the online start list.

At any rate, I seemed to have a good thing going, so after the McKenzie 50K in September, I was on the lookout for another race. I’m happy with how JFK race turned out but in the end, I realized I had lost some of my momentum between September and late November.

My goals for the race included:

1. Run under 6:00 and get a qualifying time to be considered for the USA National 100K Team

2. Score some points for the Montrail Ultracup.

3. PR for 50 mi (6:18 at American River)

4. Get into the top 5 to win some prize money and payback a bit of the cost to get to the race

5. Gain more experience.

6. Participate – JFK is the largest ultra in the USA and has an interesting history.

Start and Appalitaion Trail

I felt good at the start and the weather was just right: sunny and in the mid-40s at 7:00 am. We climbed up a paved road for about three miles before jumping onto the Appalachian Trail. The trail was as promised: rocky and covered with leaves. The footing was tough. I thought the trail section would be my strong suit but when I found myself in the lead, I was a little surprised. I decided to go with it and was rewarded with this live coverage report: “Dan Olmstead of Oregon is the leader, reaching Gathland Gap in 1:05 and looking fit, fast and on fire."

The first 10-15 miles of an ultra are always so much fun. I could probably win most races if I just stopped at 15 and let everyone else keep going.

Tow Path

Around mile 16, the trail dumped us off onto the long flat tow path, a “rails to trails” project. I was still in the lead for a few miles before the eventual winner and first time ultra-runner, Brian Dumm, caught up to me. He was very friendly, and looked comfortable. He was going a bit faster than felt good, so he slowly pulled away.

The tow path had mile markers so I was able to easily check my splits. However, over time I realized they were off. I’d run a 6:45 followed by a 7:45. I really wasn’t sure how I was doing with respect to my 6-hour goal until I got to about mile 30 and realized I was falling behind. Around mile 24, Jacob Edwards, who ultimately came in 3^rd, caught up to me and we ran together for a long ways. He also had never run an ultra but had just PR’ed in the marathon in 2:31. He didn’t think we would see Brian again either because he was a 2:27 marathoner. This was mildly frustrating because I have run several 2:26’s. But that was some time ago, and I was not in that kind of shape. A lot can happen in an ultra and I thought there was a chance I would see them both again. I was wrong. Shortly after Jacob, David Riddle, the 2^nd place finisher, caught us. As the three of us came into an aid station, two others joined us. By the time I fumbled my way out of the aid station, I was a distant sixth.

A Short Side Note About Aid Stations

My aid stations at this race were horrible. The folks with pitchers of fluid were usually behind the table, busy filling Styrofoam cups. I would stop at the table and start dumping half-full cups into my bottle. After about the fifth cup, someone with the pitcher would usually understand what I needed and would then fill me up. Most of the other guys seemed to have support as best I could tell. I did stash a bag with some Gu’s, a banana and a small bottle of chocolate milk at mile 30. Chocolate milk helps during a slow hilly 100K. At 7:10+ pace, it just makes you a little sick for a few miles should have known that.

It was clear I wasn’t going to get under 6 hours, but I was resigned to stay focused and get as close to pace as my body would let me. Near the end of the tow path at mile 42, I caught Michael Wardian and one other guy. I was now in 4^th.

Last 8 miles on paved Road

I was excited about moving into 4^th, but was cramping in several places, my legs were trashed, and I was getting desperate. I was taking extra salt, Gu’s, and fluid, anything I could think of to keep me together for a little while longer. With about 7 miles to go, I noticed 5^th place moving up. He passed and put on another about 3 minutes by the finish. I was doing about 8 min pace, which, all things considered, I was quite happy with. I scooted across the line in 6:10:30 an average of 7:25’s and was able to hold onto 5^th place.

Last thoughts

I’m glad I got to run JFK this year. It was quite a different experience and I really enjoyed the history of it all. I think I made the most of my fitness; I was able to stay in the race mode even when I was really struggling, I set a PR, and made it into the top five. This race beat me up much like a road marathon would, but I’m now feeling motivated to improve my training and get ready for the Bandera 100K in early January.

Congratulations to Amy Sproston and Pam Smith of Oregon who went first and second for the women!

Twilight River Run 5K, 9-29-10

2010-10-01T21:27:00.000-07:00

Well I decided to jump into a 5k that started right outside my office at EWEB. I ran a 15:38 (avg. 5:02 /mi) I ran together with a friend Jeff Druet from the Eugne Running Company through half way then inched ahead for 1st place. It has been a long time since I tried to run more than one 5 min mile, and I was thankfull I didn't pull anyting doing so. It was a fun run on the bike path, however it wasn't easy. That last mile was violent. (to use a term from Matt Lonergan)

MCKenzie River 50K

2010-09-14T20:31:00.001-07:00

I seemed to be on a roll as McKenzie turned out to be another good run for me. My recovery after Waldo was going well so when the chance to enter the McKenzie River 50K came, I jumped on it. McKenzie is another local race that is well run, competitive, has plenty of history, and is incredibly beautiful. We in Eugene are lucky to have such great races so close to home. Many of the racers, their friends and family stayed in Ice Cap campground the night before the race, so I enjoyed an evening of laughter and campfires. I was thankful for the late(ish) 7:30 start however, I didn’t sleep all that well and probably would have been ready to go at 5:00. Due to a bridge replacement project at the Carmen reservoir and construction at the Ranger Station, the race course was modified this year. The race started up in the Ice Cap campground, the turnaround was extend (uphill) on the Santiam Wagon road, and the finish came prior to passing Paradise campground but instead took us uphill on a gravel road for about a half mile before a quarter mile downhill to the finish.

At the start Jeremy Tolman, Steve Richards, and I decided to take the lead. Jeremy was leading us quickly up the trail towards Clear Lake. After a brief wrong turn towards the waterfall overlook (I think I did that last time also), we rearranged our order and Steve took the lead. The three of us stayed together up through the lava field on south side of Clear Lake. The twisty-turny technical sections are slow but don’t seem too bad when you are running them. However, as the day progresses you realize they really take a toll on your body. At the north end of the lake we turned right onto the out and back portion of the course and started passing the early starters. At the Santiam Wagon Road aid station (6.1mi.) I met Tom Atkins who took my warm cloths, and gave me my water bottle. We then had a short out and back section along the road that took us a short ways uphill.

During this whole first hour together the three of us were having a good time joking and taking in the scenery. We were of course wondering the whole time how the rest of the race would unfold. On the west side of Clear Lake Steve met his crew and stopped to exchange some clothing, and I think decided to back off a bit for a while. From that point on Jeremy and I were on our own.

Like Waldo, I made a real effort to stay on top of my fluids, calories, and sodium. Jeremy led the entire way, and I felt comfortable just drifting up and back depending on our various trail strengths or if I was fumbling around with gu’s. I always kept him in sight however.

I always feel a little guilty racing at McKenzie River because it is such a beautiful place. I gave a ½ second glance at the blue pool as we passed, but I really couldn’t spare more than that without tripping.

I had no idea what pace we were running. The pace felt comfortable from the Trail Bridge aid station all the way to the last aid station at Buck Bridge. I had hoped to beat my 3:44 time from four years ago, but based on how I felt, I wasn’t sure if that was going to happen. I had recovered well from the Waldo race three weeks ago, and I had a surprisingly good 10 mile steady run the week before. However I just didn’t have enough confidence in how my body would handle the late miles. I was content to focus on racing and not worry about the time. The great thing about having run a 100k recently is that this 50k was feeling short. I remember thinking “wow we only have an hour left of running”. Jeremy was still looking relaxed and I was starting to think about the end of the race. Tom met me at the Deer Creek aid station (23.5mi) and swapped bottles with me again. His work had saved me a lot of transition time through the aid stations. He wasn’t going to be able to meet me at Buck Bridge because he needed to go back and crew other friends. Jeremy and I only had about 7.5 miles to go and it was only 3.3 miles to the next aid station. The pace quickened. I decided I would fuel up, drink almost all of my fluid, take a few more S! Caps, and just blow through Buck Bridge. I knew I had a good hard 4 miles left in me. Jeremy was still looking relaxed and was also drinking a lot. I was starting to think he had the same plan. Things were going to be interesting.

As we approached Buck Bridge the trail widened and I was getting ready to go. Then suddenly Jeremy caught a root and went down! I didn’t know what to do, my body was starting to push and my head said to stop. It didn’t seem right to make a move when he was on the ground. I stopped, jogged back a few steps. He seemed ok, and was getting up so I jogged ahead. As he made his way over to exchange bottles with his crew, I decided it was ok to go and took off. I went hard to the finish and aside from some calf cramping it felt great. My final time was 3:35:14, second fastest time on the course. I had an awesome time and enjoyed seeing everyone else come in.

Where's Waldo 100K 2010

2010-09-06T14:02:00.000-07:00

On my third attempt to run this race, I finally made it to the starting line not only healthy, but fit. Waldo this year meant a lot to me for many different reasons. It’s a high caliber competitive race with prize money, two Western States spots, and a part of the Montrail Ultra Cup series. Also it’s local—co-directed by my good friend Craig Thornley—and is a beautiful and challenging course. Most importantly, Waldo would be a trial for me. After my 2008 Western States experience, I endured an incredible period of self-doubt, and I set Waldo up as a litmus test—an indicator of my ability to run well at longer distances.

Courtney and I stayed in a hotel down in Oakridge with Sunsweet teammate Meghan the night before the race. On race day, I think Courtney was more nervous than I was. For the most part, I was just looking forward to spending the entire day running on the awesome wilderness trails. Megan had recently given me Brian’s (her husband) headlamp to use for the first section that would be in the dark. Brian passed away in early August, and using his light at the start of this great adventure felt symbolic and reassuring.

The climb up the ski hill felt comfortable. I loved looking back down the hill and seeing all the bouncing lights slowly working their way up the hill, and into the day ahead. Around five of us were loosely grouped together as we filtered through the Gold Lake aid station. Courtney met me near the road crossing and took my light and extra clothing. Lewis Taylor and another runner gapped us, and I didn’t see them again until nearly the top of the Mt. Fuji.

Tim Olson summited first, and then was gone. The picture to the left is possibly the last clear sighting of Tim anyone got until the Mt. Ray aid station. Part way down I stated getting reports about Tim: “He is about 2 minutes up… He has about 3 minutes on you… That guy was flying – he has about 7 minutes on you!” Officially, he had put 4 minutes on me in a little under 7 miles. Ouch. Courtney met me at Mt. Ray and I had some banana. Lewis was right behind me. I decided to work a bit on the grind up to the Twins aid station to see if the gap was for real or just a crazy downhill effort by Tim. By the Twins aid station—theme: Heaven and Hell—Tim had put another minute on me, so he was obviously was not just a great downhiller. I backed off a bit and felt a little relieved I was free to run my own race.

At Charlton aid station I met Courtney again. She gave me some chocolate milk, a banana, my second water bottle, and a hug. What else could I need? I was half way, feeling relaxed and in control. However, I knew that with the day warming up and the Twins & Maiden Climbs ahead, the hardest part of the course was still to come.

Shortly after the Charlton aid station I started to get some minor cramping in my calves. This slowed me down a bit, and I wasn’t able to take advantage of the downhill section into Road 4290 very well. I thought I had been taking enough salt and it was still fairly cool, so I figured I must be a dehydrated. I started drinking more, knowing I could refill both bottles soon at the 4290 aid station.

Out of the aid station, on my way to summit the Twins, the cramping wasn’t too bad because it was mostly flat and uphill. The Twins were work, but I felt like I kept the pace going well. Heading downhill to return to the Twins aid station I quickly realized that I hadn’t fixed the cramping and that is was now a big problem. I needed salt, and lots of it. I had been eating a little food at the aid stations and taking gels regularly which seem to be enough to keep my energy up, and my legs still felt good. Because of the cramping however, I felt like I really lost out on some good quick running down from the Twins to the Maiden Peak aid station. I had used up the last of my S! caps when I got to the aid station and they were able to give me four more, but only after some negotiation with the aid station captain.

The climb up Maiden peak was hard. I was able to keep a good hike/jog pace going for part way but as I got closer to the summit, I was really struggling just to hike. Eventually the trees started to thin, and I knew I was almost there. I was really looking forward to the short out and back near the summit. Maybe, just maybe, I would catch a glimpse of Tim (I didn’t) and I would get a chance to find out who might be behind me. No Tim, and no one within 9 minutes behind me. It would have been nice to see Tim, but this was once again my ticket to just run my own pace. I was feeling good again. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to catch me, and I didn’t have to kill myself trying to win.

At the Maiden Lake aid station I received a nice face wash from the volunteers and a one man pep rally from Ed Wilson. I still had some cramping on the way down, but after some extra S! Caps at the aid station I was ready to go. All things considered, including the the previous 54.5 miles, I felt fantastic on the last section. As I got closer, I realized I was not only going to break 10 hours but I would be way under. It was possible for me to be competitive at these longer distances and I could prevent myself from falling apart at the end.

I had passed my Waldo test with flying colors. Overall this was beautiful day on wonderful trails supported by some of my best friends… oh, and one more piece of good news: I didn’t get lost.

Mt Hood PCT 50 Mile

2010-07-28T11:16:00.000-07:00

I signed up for this race early in the year and as the date rolled around it looked like I was going to be off backpacking with Courtney that weekend. Then our schedule changed (because I got a new job!) and I became available. I wanted to get in another long run/race prior to the Waldo 100K in late August. Waldo is fairly hard and I want to make sure I’m ready.

This was a last minute trip and I didn’t do to much planning, so I had hoped to just find a place to camp, do the run, and then drive home. I was told that all of the camp grounds were full, but being a national forest, the “campground” appeared to be nothing more than a bunch of dirt roads that wondered off to various camp sites. I had no problem finding a place to roll out my bag.

At the start of the race we all took off down a gravel road. After about 300 yards the leaders stopped and the entire race pack bunched up. “Does anyone know which way to go?” yelled someone towards the front of the pack. Turns out we missed the very first left and the whole bunch of us turned around and ran nearly back to the start. It was a funny start to the day.

The race was two out and backs along the PCT. It used to run up to the Timberline Lodge, but due to trail restrictions it was shortened and the second out and back was added. Four of us that found our way to the front of the pack and quickly put in a small gap on the rest of the group. I was trying to stay comfortable and found myself drifting up and back from the other three guys as they tested each other out. I have no idea why, but I was letting go of a lot of water early so I figured I need to salt up a bit. Nothing salty at the first aid station, but at the second they had some S-caps so I stocked up. I was feeling relaxed, taking small snacks at each of the aid stations and taking a gel around every 20 to 30 minutes. The first out and back was generally rolling uphill with a downhill section at the end. At the first turn around (mile 14) we were all mostly together, but I got out quickly and decided to push it just a tiny bit to see how the other guys would react. They were still feeling competitive, so I backed off and let someone else take the lead again. On the way back to the start / finish however, (mile 28) two of the runners fell off.

At the start/finish I downed about 1/3 of a quart of cool chocolate milk, grabbed a whole banana and headed out for the second part. I never felt rushed at the aid stations but did a good job of getting what I needed and getting out. I got the whole banana down while running easy out of the aid station. I was feeling relaxed, it was hot but shady, and I just got in some good calories with no problems. Things were looking good for the next 22 miles. The next section was almost entirely uphill to the Red Wolf pass. The race website called this aid station mile 32, but the aid station folks and my split put it closer to mile 36. The first place runner and I were chatting on and off the whole way and I was really glad to have a running partner. From here you descend quickly through some over grown areas and are deposited on a gravel road. We stopped and looked around for a while and at first didn’t see any other ribbons. Then we saw two hanging on the right side of the road and guessed we should go that way. We didn’t see that the trail continued down the hill about 50’ down the road. We set off on the road and settled into a quick but comfortable pace. I didn’t see any other ribbons which was a bit nerve racking but my partner remembered hearing that there was a difficult gravel road section. The road was exposed and hot. It dead ended at a paved road which seemed right, but our split was a little long and there was no aid station. We stopped once again and then headed back, trying to conserve what we had left of our water. We passed about five other runners on the road, which reassured all of us that we had actually gone the correct direction. About a mile of climbing away from the trail junction, my partner said he needed to walk for a bit. I was thirsty, but was still doing great and continued on up to the Red Wolf pass aid station. I drank a lot and set off for the last push back to the finish. I was excited that I was in the lead and enjoyed running fast down the hill. I had some cramping in my arms, which worried me a bit, but I knew it just from the lack of fluid not that I was slowly shutting down. I finished in 6:34 and it was by far the best I have ever felt for that distance. I felt like I really got everything right. I ran comfortably and took care of myself. The race director gave me a Nathan hydration pack for winning, which I’m really looking forward to trying out. Later, I discovered that we had in fact gone the wrong way, and the next day I discovered that I had been DQ’ed. That was a real disappointment, since I had a great run that might have even been a course record I wanted it to be documented. But that’s the rules and I got what I came for. This run has given me the confidence boost to try and run well at the Waldo in a few weeks. At work I did some mapping and figured our route had less hills, but was about 2.5 miles longer, in the sun, and with no aid. That made me feel better also, it’s never fun to discover you did well but cut it short. That’s two races now, No more getting lost!

Orcas Island 50K

2010-02-16T13:29:00.001-08:00

The Orcas Island race was beautiful and a whole lot of fun. Between the isolation, runner cabins, post race party, and easy going nature of the participants, Orcas Island felt much more like a running camp than a race. Being the first race since Western States and my seizures last year, my goal was really to just have a good long hard run.
I carpooled up with Tonya Olson from Eugene and then Yassine Diboun from Portland and it was great to get to know each of them. We had no trouble making the ferry and had a nice ride over. After the check in (complete with pot luck dinner), we stayed with a long time friend from Eugene, Susannah Beck who recently moved to the island.
The park is beautiful with lots of old mossy growth forest, ever changing twisty trails and some hidden lakes. From the start there were about 5 of us together up front, spreading out and then grouping up again depending who was better at the climbs or downhills. After summiting Mt. Pickett (no view) we found our way back to the start at Cascade Lake for our first aid station at mile 9.7. At this point there were three of us within about 20 seconds, Alex Henry who would go on to win by a large margin, myself and Yassine. The climb up the southwest face of Mt. Constitution was quite steep and generally just followed the power lines. The lead runner, Alex was fast out of the aid station and quickly put a big gap on Yassine and myself. It seemed his climbing skills had doubled since our first big climb of the day. Along the way we got to pass many of the 25K runners which made it fun to chat with folks along the way. On the north side of the mountain we had an amazing downhill section that when on for miles. I felt amazing, and then some woman who I hadn’t met heading up the trail for the 25K say’s “go Tapeworm!” And another woman says “go Sunsweet” “my husband runs for Sunsweet”. I still have not figured out who she was. Anyway I had a huge smile and energetically greeted everyone going up the hill. “Dude, you are in first place for people wearing a smokey the bear hat!”
By this time, we had passed a number of signs that said “50K first time, 50K second time”. I was starting to lose track which ones we had passed already. Yassine caught up to me at a junction near twin lakes and we ran down together to Mountain Lake. At an unmarked junction near the lake (about mile 17-18) we made a right hand turn and should have made a left. Along the way we asked a few folks “did you see the first place guy go this way?” Two parties said yes, so we thought we were still on track. However pretty soon we saw the first place guy running towards us. “All well” I thought, I remembered the course circled a lake and this seemed to be it. So what did it matter what direction we go? Well I was wrong, you only run about 2/3 around the lake and then head up Mt. Constitution for the 2nd time. Anyway it took us some time to get things sorted out, but eventually we found our way back. My high times were now long gone, as was my motivation and energy. Yassine and I settled in and tried to just focus on enjoying the run. At the top there was an amazing view, and not having to worry about place I stopped a few times to take it in. In the end, going the wrong way forced me to not overdo it, which I probably would have done if I had stayed in 2nd place.
At the top I took my time, re-fueled, tried to take a mental picture, and started down the hill towards Cascade Lake and the finish. I was getting pretty tired by the end and was really glad I didn’t feel obligated to be pushing it hard. I think I came in around 35th place and 5:42. Hard to say what I would have run.
At the finish camp we had food, live bluegrass music, beer, and (thanks to Susannah) homemade pizza. The post race party went on well into the night, but by 9pm I was cooked and ready to go to bed. On the drive home we added Sander of Corvallis and had lively conversation that cut the drive in half. It was a fantastic weekend. (I stole the above photo from Sander’s 2008 collection)

My Summer Seizures

2010-01-20T13:35:00.000-08:00

Around 5:00 am on Saturday July, 18, 2009, I had a grand mal seizure. My wife Courtney woke because the bed was shaking and she looked over to see my body contorted, seizing uncontrollably. She called 911. Apparently, the seizure lasted about 20 seconds, but I was out for another 20 minutes. When I woke, the paramedics had arrived, and five men in blue surrounded the bed. My tongue hurt because I had bit it, but otherwise I felt ok, though tired. We went to the hospital and they checked me out to make sure the seizure wasn’t caused by a brain tumor or stroke or anything else obvious. The doctors didn’t find anything—whew!—and sent me home that morning.
At home, I made some phone calls, and because Courtney wanted to go for a run, we called Harold, Courtney’s godfather to keep me company. I was falling asleep on the couch and around 10:15 am, I had another seizure. Harold called 911, and when I came to, a new bunch of strangers in blue surrounded me, but also a good friend, ultra running mentor, and fireman/paramedic, John Ticer.
A quick Ticer side story: Before Western States, I was getting ready to paint the house and had taken the address numbers off the house. We hosted a pre-race party and John said: “You better get some temporary numbers up in case the paramedics have to come looking for you!” Sure, I thought, but what are the chances? After 37 years of living, I’ve never called 911. Luckily the first ambulance found us early that morning through Courtney’s descriptions to the 911-operator, but John, in on the second call, knew right where to go.
After you’ve had 2 grand mal seizures doctors technically classify you as having a “seizure disorder” or as it used to be known, epilepsy. The two weeks that followed the episodes were a whirlwind of doctor’s appointments, discussions with friends, a lot of reading, and a lot of thinking.
This is what the Mayo Clinic website has to say about grand mal seizures:
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/grand-mal-seizure/DS00222
Because I had just attempted Western States a few weeks before, I thought a logical link between the issues I experience there—Rhabdomyolysis and two days in the Auburn hospital—might be connected. However, the neurologist and the other doctors I saw all thought that there was no link between Western States and the seizures, though they all admitted they couldn’t really know for certain.
The neurologist was more interested in what I described to him as déjà-vu experiences—about two years ago I had moments in time while washing dishes, brushing my teeth, or walking the dog when I felt as though I was living what I had just dreamed the night before. If I let these times go very long—because I always felt I could stop them—I would eventually start to feel sick to my stomach and dizzy. I almost didn’t mention this, but the neurologist said that these were probably “mini seizures”.
A short time after the grand mal seizure, I had an Electroencephalogram (EEG). In this procedure, you are sleep deprived and the technician flashes lights at you to stress your brain while they measure the electrical activity. This also didn’t yield any problems… or answers. I am now on an anti-seizure medication, Dilantin, for two years. Initially Dilantin made me a little dizzy and unmotivated. I haven’t had any more problems and the side effects are largely gone, although I often still feel unmotivated to take out the trash. Aside from the pragmatic downside of the very real health issue, all this has given me another “wake-up-this-is-your-life” kick in the pants, for which I’m always grateful. Overall, I’m feeling a less invincible and a little more excited about life.

2009 Western States Race Report

2009-07-03T11:40:00.000-07:00

At the start of the climb up to the Escarpment, I was surprised how fast the top guys took off. I knew they would run up, but they were running up fast. I followed the lead group the wrong way for about 50 yards before I started hearing “wrong way!” coming from below. I wished Hal good luck as the top guys passed by to reclaim the lead.

I felt nauseous from the start. I was guessing it was from the altitude but didn’t really know—maybe the cheesy lasagna from the night before? I was a little worried because puking at mile 5 would be a tough way to start out. At the Escarpment aid station I stopped for a handful of Tums, which seem to do the trick. Several times on the way up I looked back to see the gravel road full of runners and rising sun. I walked and jogged my way up in 48 min to the top. Matt, who would be pacing me from Green Gate, said he had done it in 51 the day before, so I was either feeling great or going too fast. As the trail crested and headed down the other side it felt as if the race was really starting and we were at last heading off the edge of our great adventure.

After my extended training taper, it felt so great to be running again and everything seemed to be working fine. Things were fairly uneventful through Lyon Ridge (10.5) and Red Star (16). I was running around 20th -22nd place and was loving the world. Someplace in there was a “machined” section of 2-3 inches of soft dirt. This was mostly nice, but I turned my left ankle enough to hear a crunching sound on something hiding under the top layer. I walked a bit and my ankle seemed to still be working so I was back on track. Starting around Red Star, I felt the twinges of cramping. It was way too early to start taking S! caps so I put it off and increased my fluid. Soon, though, it was clear I was quite low on sodium and needed to catch up. Low sodium probably contributed to my nausea at the start as well. I had drunk too much water the day before the race I guess.

Duncan Canyon seemed long and spread out, nothing to worry about and not nearly as intense as the ones to come. The air started to warm up so I dunked my shirt in a few of the stream crossings prior to Robinson Flat. I think about half of the time I got my shirt back on backwards or inside out.

Rolling into Robinson Flat (29.7) I was really excited to see Courtney and Matt for the first time. After I weighed in—my weight was up—I heard Ticer and Ed’s booming voice telling me where to meet my crew. We had a good transition: I ate ½ a turkey- avocado sandwich and Matt ran part way up the next hill with me.

From Robinson Flat through Miller’s Defeat (34.4), Dusty Corners (38), I was still struggling with my sodium / hydration. Scott Wolf caught me around Miller’s Defeat and looked good. When I started taking salt for the cramps my weight started to go up, so I needed to try and drink enough so that my body didn’t think I was dehydrated. Eventually my cramps had mostly gone away, but until I started letting go of the fluid I wasn’t on track. At last I was able to pee just outside Miller’s Defeat. I felt like the owner of a new puppy who just peed outside instead of on the rug: “Oh, good boy! Good peeing!”

With no cramping and a new understanding of how much fluid I needed—a third bottle would have been a good idea—I was feeling good and ready to roll. I ran into Last Chance (43.8) in 19th place and was trading places with Lon Freeman, who is well-respected in the world of ultras. Exiting Last Chance, I saw the sign I had my folks make for me: “Dan, the quads are evil and must be punished! – Mom and Dad”. Funny at the time, but in reality, the quads should only be considered evil in training, not in the middle of a 100-mile race!

Lon and I ran together down to Swinging Bridge and back up Devil’s Thumb. Near the top he asked how the front runners were doing and a woman told us that last she saw Scott Jurek, he was sitting in a chair at the top. At Devils Thumb (47.8) I filled, drank, ate, wet down and hit the trail. The descent down to El Dorado Canyon was a little longer than I wanted and my quads were starting to complain. A thermometer at the aid station said 96° F. That’s hot, but I was feeling okay, and eager for the climb back out to Michigan Bluff (55.7). I felt like I had a great climb and dropped Lon along the way. Near the top I caught back up to Scott Wolf who said he was having stomach problems.

Michigan Bluff was probably the high point of my competitive race. I hadn’t run any downhill for around 45 minutes, I had moved up to 16th place, it was hot but I was dealing with it well, I had successfully solved problems, and folks were starting to drop, I knew the trails very well, and I got to see Courtney and Matt again. I downed a bottle and traded my visor for a hat with ice in it and picked up my ice-filled bandana. I wasn’t looking forward to the downhill, but I figured it was normal considering I was at mile 56 on a downhill course.

Volcano Canyon was by far the hottest section I thought, and much more exposed. The downhill to the bottom hurt, but I had a good climb out. Matt and my new pacer John met me part way up Bath road, and I was able to run about half. When I arrived in Forest Hill, I was feeling like I had run 62 miles—which I had, of course—but I was in 14th place and moving up. Spirits were high, but I realized I was really dreading the down hills of the Cal Street Section.

John was a great pacer, easy to talk to and kept me on track. I realized my quads were in real trouble and getting down to Cal 1 killed my hopes of moving up. From this point on, the race became about just getting the job done any way I could. My heart was racing and I was breathing very hard, it was becoming a huge effort to run the downhills. These sections were more like a marathon race effort even though we were only moving at an average pace. Between Cal 1 and Cal 2 and then again after Cal 2 to Cal 3 I started to see blood in my urine. Not a good sign. I tried to back off some more and spent more time hydrating at the aid stations.

(Here I am at Cal 2 looking a more than a little out of it)

Once we hit the bottom I felt a little better and was able to get rolling a little again.
Ford’s Bar to Rucky Chucky went by faster than I expected and before I knew it, I was at the river crossing. The river was great and all the volunteers were extremely helpful. I think after seeing me they made a point of reminding me to hold on “with both hands!” Matt met us on the other side and the three of us walked up to Green Gate with some feeble attempts at running. I collected myself at Green Gate (79.8), and remember telling Courtney that this was “by far the hardest thing I had ever done,” and that “this hurts so much.” You know—what every loved one wants to hear from you almost 80 miles in. Courtney and Matt got me loaded up and traded my hat for a head lamp. Matt kept me focused and moving and before I knew it, we were off.

At Green Gate I was still in about 16th place but was quickly caught by three other runners including Bev. Matt had me focus on trying to stay with them, and after a bit, amazingly I was able to hang on all the way to ALT (85.2). The trail was mercifully flat and I was starting to think maybe I could actually finish this thing at some point. I really hadn’t cared about my finish time since Cal 1. It took me a long time to get out of ALT and even longer to get up to a shuffle again. We decided Brown’s Bar would need to be a quicker transition.

I lost contact with the runners ahead of me as I had a few painful creek crossings. When I reached Browns Bar (89.9) I was dizzy, overwhelmed and felt like hell. Everyone was wearing red dresses. I got some soup, some fluid and we were out.

When you leave Brown’s Bar you go down a long technical downhill until you reach the Quarry Road. It was now 10:30 pm and I hadn’t had to run any real downhill since 6:30 pm, back on the Cal street section. Just out of the aid station, I tried to run a step and knew that was not going to work… in fact, walking was proving to be very difficult. My quads were shooting with pain and each step was taking a tremendous amount of energy.
I eventually made it down to the bottom on Quarry Road. As I walked slowly down on the flat part of Quarry Road, Lewis and Craig passed us and both looked great. Craig told me to take it easy on the decent down to No Hands Bridge. The only way I could take it easier would be if I sat down a scooted down on my butt—not an exaggeration.

On the assent up to the Hwy 49 crossing, I was staggering, trying to sit down, peeing dark brown, and only barely moving forward. Matt kept me taking calories, kept me from falling, and declared he wouldn’t let me pass out in the woods, though I tried several times. He made sure I made it to the Highway crossing. According to the race splits, it took me about 3 hours to go the 3.6 miles from Brown’s Bar to the Highway crossing (93.5).

At the aid station, I weighed in and told the physician I was having brown urine. She said she wouldn’t let me go till I was peeing clear again. Ultimately, that wouldn’t come until the next day and after six IV’s. I sat in a chair and drank 3 bottles of water, some soup, some Coke and was able to give her a sample. She then recommended an ambulance trip to the hospital, and started an IV. In the 45 minutes I was waiting at the station, I saw all the rest of my Eugene friends pass through.

At the hospital, a blood test revealed I had a CPK of 95,940, and normal is between 20-200. I checked in, and in weighing in, was close to 20 pounds over my normal weight. We stayed in the Auburn hospital for two days, and I was released the Monday following the race with a CKP of close to 45,000.

About two months ago, the Atlantic Monthly cover story highlighted a 70-year study on what makes us happy. It was mostly a boring eight pages of the means and methods of the comprehensive study, but the conclusion of the study was that friends, family and good health are what keep us happy—your financial or professional status, fame, or education don’t matter.

Having never done a 100 before, I thought this race would be a sort of personal journey, emotional and spiritual, and maybe even and transformative in some way as I reached my lowest of lows and pushed through to the end. What I came away with was a beautiful display of selfless love, support and community from the spectators, volunteers, friends, family and my wife. I’m disappointed I wasn’t able to finish the last 6.7 miles, but when I finally did get emotional on the drive home—in a car left behind for us by a friend—it was from happiness. I took a flying leap off the Western States stage and from the start all the way to the drive home I’ve been crowd surfing the kindness and friendship of all those involved. Thank you everyone, that was awesome.

Pre States Thoughts

2009-06-19T16:29:00.000-07:00

Well it looks like I’m going to make it to the starting line. I should be healthy (I think) and fit, (for the most part). Since the American River 50 mile, I had a down week, 3 weeks at 100 miles, couple of weeks around 60-70 due to an injury, and 3 more weeks around 100 miles. I was planning on a gradual taper starting 3 weeks out, but it’s been a steeper drop off than I wanted due to another injury. But I’m here now. I’ve had some painful runs that I probably should have skipped and many wonderful ones that reminded me how much I love this sport. My extra long runs have been 39, 50, 32, & a 46 solo. They have all gone well with no real major issues. I’ve been hitting the sauna and have done a few overdressed runs to hopefully help my body deal with the heat.
This is the time to second guess your training. Did I start my taper to early? Should I have done at least one more run over 50 miles? Did I do enough downhill?? I know I should have hit the Rooster Rock at least one more time. In the end I’m sure we all could have trained just a little smarter and that keeps us coming back I guess.
This training period has really been a balance of finding my limits. Not so much doing amazing workouts and high volume, but more knowing when to back off just long enough to stay healthy. Seems I have had just about everything pop up this season. My left knee thing has been with me the entire time, but I can keep it in check by not doing to many miles and keeping up my physical therapy exercises. I had a good scare by hurting my Tibialis anterior in early May by running downhill fast with no warm up. It was difficult to walk let alone run after that one. I started getting pain on my right heel in the mornings (tends to go away within a ½ hour) and recently I pulled something in my left calf running to fast on the track. The calf thing is what I’m worried about quite a bit right now, but I’m hoping that if I don’t run all that much these last few days it should be good enough. I like to pretend that this constant push / pull in training will help me problem solve and deal with issues during the race, at least that’s how I’m going to spin it. The race starts well before June 27th and many of us beat ourselves before we even make it to the start line. As our most famous enemy of the state, Dick Cheney, said, “you go to war with the army you have not the one you wish you had”. I think the rest of his quote is “…the important thing however is going to war”.
What are my goals for my first Western States run? I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. Having come face to face with the mortality of my running career last year I’d say my number one goal is to start and finish. I also hope to find out a little bit more about myself. Not to misrepresent myself, I plan to place as well as I can but I’m trying to keep the competition element in perspective. I’m really looking forward to sharing what I think will be an incredibly difficult, soul searching journey with hundreds of other folks like me.
Final thought: I should have done Rooster one more time.

American River 50 mile Race Report

2009-06-01T11:34:00.001-07:00

Matt Lonergan and I went out in a very comfortable 6:20 pace, knowing that we should know better. However there was another group up front running faster, so that made me feel like I was being smart. Things were still smooth around the first hill at about 19. I had a friend (Steve Brusig) handing me full bottles so my aid stations were going fast. I was trying out the First Endurance gel bottles, and had the super smart idea of just having Steve hand it to me then downing it (4 gels worth) and giving it back to him so I didn't have to carry the flask. I only tried that twice, obviously not a great idea. I came through the marathon at 2:50, probably in 6th or 7th. The trail section from maybe 30-40 was much more technical than I expected and I think it took a lot out of me. Steve joined me for the last 10 miles which was really helpful. Mile 40 to around 47 was much easier running, and I tried to get back into it with limited success. I also had some stomach issues and was feeling bloated. As a result, I wasn't taking any GU's and took more water instead of GU2O. I had a VERY slow climb the last few miles I was passed by one runner. My weight was up some at the end and I think I took a total of about 15 S! caps. The weather was amazing and the course was surprisingly scenic, especially towards the end. I defiantly learned some lessons (don’t take a ton of gel all at once). It would have been nice to finish better, but overall I was happy with it. My folks met me at the end and we all received a nice finisher’s jacket. Much like Cool, the race course was changed some from its historic route so it was hard to tell how my time compared to previous runs.

Way 2 Cool Race Report

2009-03-28T09:32:00.000-07:00

First of all, I was really glad to be racing because, 1, See knee story below; and 2, I hadn’t signed up for the race that typically fills in a manner of minutes. After some minor begging, the race director, Julie Fingar, let me in 3. I got to sport my new Sunsweet gear. Looking over the start list I didn’t recognize many names but that really doesn’t mean a whole lot since I’m terrible with names, and am somewhat new to the sport. I thought Kochik, Skaden, and Grossman would be guys to look for. It can help to know who some of the real players are so you don’t get overly excited and get sucked into the “out-fast-and-die” folks.
The first two miles were on a gentle down grade with one slight rise, so they were very fast: 5:45’s. Aside from the shirtless, tattooed guy, all the folks I was with seemed like the real deal. We were running fairly hard and mixing it up most of the way back to the highway crossing. As we crossed the highway it looked like it was Grossman, Pantilat, another guy, me, Kochik, and Berkontiz. I topped off my bottle and grabbed an extra Gu.
As we headed out on the trails, I think that Pantilat had started to really establish himself as the one to beat but Grossman, Berkonitz and I were all right there. I remember thinking around mile 20 that this was more than I bargained for. I was hoping places would have been established for the most part and I could just dial in and run my race. Instead it seemed there was constantly someone who you thought you could pass or who was trying to pass you back. At Ball Bearing Hill, on the way up to the ALT aid station at mile 26, I could see Pantilat up there and either Berkonitz or Grossman behind me. That was the last I saw of anyone.
On the way back I was able to spend a little more time looking around-- there are some really beautiful and easy running sections in there. The out-bound runners were all very nice and quickly gave me room to pass. I made an effort to give a quick “thank you” to everyone. It gets a little old after a while, but I kept thinking how nice it was of everyone to pause their race so that I could make mine a tiny bit faster.
Folks kept saying things like “He’s got 30 seconds on you.” Then it was: “He’s got 1 minute on you,” or “1.5 minutes.” It was clear Pantilat was pulling away and looking at the splits it looks like he was going maybe 10 seconds/mile faster. I finished 2nd in 3:42:58. Taking the average pace and subtracting the 1.6 miles that was added in 2009 I would have finished in 3:31:30 on the old course a good 2 minutes faster than last year so I was happy about that.
I did a few things differently from last year. I was in better shape and I took more Gu’s and S-Caps, probably 8-10 S-caps in all. BTW the oldest finisher was Bill Dodson age 74, he wins.

My Knee Injury

2009-03-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

Last June, two days after Western States was cancelled, I went out on a 56-mile consolation run by myself on the McKenzie River trail. The trail is always beautiful, but I had a terrible run; I ran out of water and salt, and ultimately, injured my knee. It was a good thing I hadn’t raced at Western States.
After some time off for healing, I still had a fair amount of pain on the inside of my left knee. Finally, in October, I’d had enough. I made an appointment with a well known running/sports doctor in Eugene. He had some ideas, but wanted to do an MRI to be sure. The MRI was somewhat inconclusive, but he thought the meniscus had torn. This brings me to the real subject of this post.
I’ve been running and racing since age eleven. I run because I love to, because I have to. It is good for my mental and physical health, and probably feeds a good chunk of my self esteem. However, I always told myself if I ever got to a point where my running was causing long-term damage or was in some other way bad for me, I would be strong enough to shift my energy and focus. I would view it as an opportunity to challenge myself in different ways, and try activities I’d never attempted or had time to do, wrapped up as I was with running.
“Well, it looks like you might have a torn meniscus,” the doctor said. “Every runner has 30 years or so of good running in them, so you’ve had a great go at it.” He continued: “You might want to consider transitioning to lower mileage—you’d be surprised how well you can still race on 30 miles a week!”
So this, it seemed, was it. Surgery might be an option, but did I really want to consider that option if ultimately I might be damaging my body more by continuing to run? A whole world of physical activity exists—I wanted to be walking around in the woods at age 90, and I wasn’t willing to sacrifice that in order to feed my addiction at age 37. Right? OK! Time to get out on the bike, swim laps at the pool, get out to go rock-climbing… I would be having so much fun I wouldn’t even notice when the running reaper came snooping around.
The problem with Ultrarunning magazine is that after you pay your subscription, it shows up at your door whether or not you are running. At first I read it from cover to cover, finding joy in the amazing races, and peoples’ stories, even if I wasn’t joining them. But, a few months into my new no-running lifestyle, it just made me depressed and I recycled it shortly after it arrived. Other aspects of my new training life were harder to ignore: the smell of fall leaves, the rich reds and browns of the Amazon trail in November, the rain clouds slipping over and around Spencer’s Butte, the sound of alder branches moving against each other in an autumn breeze, and, of course, the endorphins. Biking didn’t do it, swimming didn’t come close, and I’m not a gym rat. And then there was the unknown—the unfinished question of Western States. I’d reached a point where I wanted to be on the starting line of that race more than just about anything.
After 6 months or so, lots of time lifting weights and stretching, a different doctor, a very slow build up, and a new physical therapist, I’m back. Turns out it wasn’t a torn meniscus and hopefully I’m not doing long term damage to my body. I can almost take things for granted again.
I still like to think I can let go of competitive running someday if I had to, but I certainly learned a lot about myself this past year. I’m a long distance runner and it’s what I should be doing. When I scan ultra race results now I look for the oldest finishers. It’s one thing to place near the top; it’s another to still be doing what you love when you are 70 or older.

Team Sunsweet

2009-02-24T21:32:00.000-08:00

LB has graciously taken upon himself to talk to the folks with Sunsweet and they have offered me a spot on the team. The Ultrarunning Sunsweet Team is sponsored by Sunsweet Growers Inc. of Yuba City and SportHill of Eugene. The team has high quality runners but is fairly low pressure and is driven more by a shared love of the sport. http://www.teamsunsweet.com/ Most importantly, from time to time I hear there will be free fruit.

New Blog

2009-02-20T12:51:00.000-08:00

Well it seems that to be a real ultra-runner you need to have a blog, as if we don’t give enough time the sport already. At least for now this will primarily be a running blog. Like most running blogs I have seen, if I'm posting a lot then I'm running well, and if I'm not then I'm not.

Oh and just to see if LB can find this I'm going to use the words "Western States 100"