Re: [GGRC] Digest for GoldenGateRunningClub@googlegroups.com - 10 Messages in 2 Topics

[Julie Barnard]

Phil,

An outstanding race report... I loved it.  Congrats on your accomplishment and we look forward to how your improved strategy works out for you next year.

J

On Wed, May 23, 2012 at 7:46 AM, <GoldenGate...@googlegroups.com> wrote:

  Today's Topic Summary

Group: http://groups.google.com/group/GoldenGateRunningClub/topics

• Hop Along Phil and Hans Breezy - Zion 50 Mile Race Report [6 Updates]
• SUNDAY RUN LOCATION CHANGE! [4 Updates]

 Hop Along Phil and Hans Breezy - Zion 50 Mile Race Report

Phil Oreste <por...@yahoo.com> May 22 08:37PM -0700  

WARNING: EXCESSIVE BLABBERING AHEAD
 
I have been trail running pretty regularly since 2002, some years
running in over 25 races per year. But every year or so, I get antsy
about entering a race outside of the dozen or so in the Bay Area that
I have run like 10 times each now. Some years it’s running an exotic
marathon, another year I raced over 400 miles in 14 states and 3
Canadian provinces in a crazy race series against a dragon. This
year, it was ultra time, but not one of the ones we have locally with
cooler temperatures and at sea level. I heard that a new 50 miler was
being put on just outside of Zion National Park in Utah and so I
decided this would be the first. I had been the bridesmaid/pacer for
a number of my GGRC buddies over the past few years and it was time to
step up to the altar of ultra.
 
I only started running in 2001 as an extension of a walking/hiking
thing I was doing to burn off the dot.com excesses of the past three
years. I ran a 10K on some city streets and went from being extremely
nervous at the start to being overjoyed to still have some energy to
burn at the end. I ran on the road for a while until I experienced
the Angel Island 12K trail run for the first time. And the rest for
me has been gettin’ dirty ever since. But I would have never, ever
thought of doing a 50 miler (let alone be on my feet that long) when I
started running trails as my favorite hobby. But life has a funny way
of presenting itself to you at just the right time. And I’m a big
believer in fate…
 
Now, I typically do these types of things on my own terms, like most
ultrarunners, and I took on an aggressive training schedule with gusto
beginning in January. For those of us who like to run shorter
distances at an all-out pace, switching to a modest/slower pace for an
extended period time is akin to root canal. But every weekend was a
double dose of long runs that slowly but surely built up confidence.
There was a time when I ran about 4 hours each Saturday morning in a
major downpour for 4 straight weeks out at Point Reyes National
Seashore. And how can I complain about that one? How many people get
to run that every Saturday morning? But my euphoria got me in trouble
by pushing it too hard on the Sunday road runs and the rubber band in
my knee got pulled a little too tight and something popped about 6
weeks before the race. For us old geezers who have had these injuries
before, you kinda know the seriousness of the injury and what’s worse,
the very loooong road to recovery. So I decided that my training had
given me enough miles and confidence to shut it down for a week or two
and then start running again at some shorter distances. But any
running and even walking presented a constant reminder of the injury.
So I decided to accept the inevitable and drop out…maybe.
 
About 10 days before the race, I had a “life is too short” moment when
I was talking to my daughter about her 15th birthday and getting her
learner’s driving permit soon. I don’t know why, but it made me think
I could will myself through this bad boy in order to take advantage of
the opportunity in front of me. So I kept running every other day,
but no more than 9-10 miles. The pain continued, however, and the
forecast of 90 degree weather for most of the race got me nervous and
that’s about the time I sent out an email to the GGRC crew to see if I
could recruit someone to pace me for the last 23 miles. It was
amazing and awesome that a half dozen people wanted to do it and some
were even willing to move their schedules around to join me. All of
this tremendous support knew I was in good hands, even after I decided
to accept Hans’ offer to join me :).
 
So Hans and I hit Zion National Park the day before the race for a
little inspiration. One of my favorite places in the world and it
never disappoints. It was a quiet night before the race and off to
bed for the big start at 6AM. The start was low-key, I mean really
low-key. They had started the 100 miler the day before and it was
cool to see a few of those runners drift across the finish line right
before we headed out. Or was it more “Oh, shit, what have I gotten
myself into?” There were a few announcements from the race organizer
and then that uncomfortable quiet before the starter said go and we
were off into the desert. The sun was just starting to rise and the
temperatures were a comfortable 60’s…for now.
 
Because of my knee, my strategy was to go pretty hard as long as I
could so that I could finish this thing. Not the greatest of
strategies, I know, but the knee had been pretty useless lately anyway
so I figured going slow would only bring on the pain sooner. The
problem with this strategy was that I was unaware of how technical the
course was going to be real soon. The first 4.5 miles were relatively
easy starting at about 3500 feet altitude with some slight rolling
hills to the base of the first mesa. I knew the steepest climb of the
day was in mile 5 as we were going straight up the face of the Mesa.
By my watch we went up 1000 feet in 0.6 of a mile! The guy walking
next to me said the total climb was 1500 feet in one mile, but either
way, I’m glad it was in the shade at 7AM. It was a pretty precarious
climb and if you leaned a little too far the wrong way, you would be
free falling and cleaning out all the runners below on the way down.
My watch said I was moving at the blistering pace of 30 minutes per
mile! Mile 5 and there was carnage already. People were stopped on
the way up and trying not to fall off the cliff while catching their
breath. Everyone was walking this section, but I powered up to the
top excited to run the next 15 miles on the top of the mesa. Of
course, they ended up being the hardest 15 miles of my life…
 
This is where I SOOO wished I had bought one of those GoPro cameras to
attach to my hat so that I could show you how ridiculously technical
these miles were to run. For miles 5-10, we ran non-stop zig zags up
and down and around slick rock with only white flour dots marking the
rock as the course markers. No place for ribbons here! Looking up
and seeing people going in every direction in front of you and behind
you only confused me as to where we were going. Of course, because it
was all rock, the knee was taking a pounding from all the jumping up
and jumping off these boulders. I got to the high point of the mesa
at about 5300 feet and stopped at the aid station at mile 10 to catch
my breath and drink some fluids. I looked at my watch and I was
already 2 hours into this bad boy. Yikes! There were only 100 people
registered for the 50 miler and usually the number of people dropping
increases as you get farther in the race. But for this race, there
were 27 dropouts at this first aid station alone…and they were mostly
locals!
 
The temperature was still decent, however, and there was a slight
breeze and a few pine trees at this altitude to provide shade. The
next 10 miles were again a never ending set of sharp turns (there was
never a straight run for more than 10 yards) along the cliffs of the
mesa. There were numerous times where a pair of runners would bump
into each other trying to figure out where to go next. The course was
well marked, but it was just hard to focus constantly on which way to
turn every few seconds. The good news was that all this brain
activity let me forget about my knee. And then at mile 17, I went the
wrong way. Tell me if this sounds familiar: You run a few hundred
yards the wrong way until you notice that there are no markers. You
double back about half way and convince yourself you were going the
right way in the first place. You return in the wrong direction for
another quarter mile, then double back until you run into another fool
who went the same wrong way as you. After 1-2 miles off course and 30
minutes wasted, I hit my first wall. I limped into the aid station at
mile 21 both pissed and exhausted. The last unmanned water station
was poorly placed at mile 13 so I had dusted my water bottle much
earlier during the last 9 miles. It was close to 10:30AM and the
temperature was now hitting around 80. I made the smart move of
switching to the 2 liter hydration pack and dropping the water bottles
for the heat wave coming, but I made the mistake of eating only two
things: jack and shit. The other thing I misheard at the starting
instructions was that there was a hard cutoff of 7 hours (1PM) at the
35 mile aid station. At the time, I thought that was pretty tough,
but doable. Now, another 14 miles with some climbing in 2.5 hours
seemed daunting and depressing.
 
Hans was waiting for me at the next aid station at mile 27, however,
so I set out on the slight decline to my pacer. Right away, I
realized I had burnt the fuel in the tank and almost returned to the
aid station for more grub, but I trudged on. This was a very slow
trudge on a fire road with no shade and each mile convinced me more
and more that I would miss the 35 mile cutoff and my knee was telling
me I was going to be done at the next aid station anyway. The only
long stretch of straight trail on this course was the two miles up to
the aid station and if you have ever run in the desert before, you
know that something you see in the distance is a LOT farther than it
appears. And these two miles went on and on and on. I must have
looked pretty pathetic coming into the aid station because the awesome
volunteer already had a bag of ice ready for me to put…somewhere. I
grabbed a seat, put the ice on my knee and whimpered to Hans, “I’m
done.” For the first time, I ate some food, but not nearly enough.
It’s funny how exhausting eating can be when the rest of your body is
gassed. I took a good 10-15 minutes icing the knee and then thought
of something I read from the zillions of blogs about ultras that were
forwarded me. The quote was something like this: “For every person
who drops out of an ultra because they truly should drop for whatever
reason, there are 10 people who drop out and immediately regret it
because they had the ability to continue.” I looked at Hans, with his
droopy hung dog eyes which seemed to ask, “We’re gonna run today,
right?” I stood up, tossed the ice bag down firmly like Rocky with
one eye swollen closed and said, “Let’s go.” And thus begin the Big
Walk.
 
Hans had also told me that the 1PM cutoff was for the aid station we
just left and we were more than an hour ahead of that time which
helped boost the spirits. The next 8 miles were a slow crawl to the
top of the 2nd mesa and it would have been a nice run except for the
knee and for the increasing heat. I would run for a 100-200 yards and
then walk, over and over and over. Hans was great during all these
final miles as he knew I was pretty frustrated with all the walking.
For a big talker, he kept the dialogue to a minimum which couldn’t
have been easy. I was excited to get to the mile 35 aid station as I
knew that the remainder of the course was pretty much all downhill.
The volunteers at this aid station were awesome in both support and
spirit and I ate my share of salted potatoes and pickles, with a Pop
Tart on top. I started taking a few salt tablets and about 100 yards
from the aid station, my throat was so dry that I got a salt tablet
wedged sideways in my esophagus/throat. To Hans’ horror, I tried to
wretch out the tablet several times to no avail. I just kept drinking
fluids until it dissolved. The next 1.5 mile was a screaming descent
1000 feet down the back of the mesa and I usually tear these up. So I
let it go and it was fun, but when we got to the bottom, I knew that I
should have taken it easier on the knee.
 
The next three miles were some of the worst miles for me. Flat fire
road, 90s heat and poor eating habits got the best of me. I was
passed by a lot of people during this section and I spent a lot time
stopped, bent over staring at my shoes looking for some mojo. My
breathing was pretty quick even when we were walking. This was the
second time I said “I’m done” and when we got to the aid station at
mile 40, I sat for a long, long time. I give major thanks to the
volunteer/medic who looked at me and started taking care of me
immediately. He handed me several salt tablets, pickles and salted
potatoes plus the always tasty drink of a full 16 ounce red Solo cup
full of pickle brine! Let me tell you, ladies and gents, that this is
not easy to chug and it took me forever to polish that off. The heat
was awful on this low section of the course, but it was about 4:00PM
now and I needed to get moving if I had a shot of making the 7PM
cutoff.
 
The next 5 miles were a little better from a running perspective and
the canyon views were amazing, but I was still murmuring a lot as I
knew in better conditions, I would be shredding this downhill single
track. Hans and I switched from leader to follower every so often
which really helped and gave me an excuse for my on course medic to
hand me a salt tablet every 15-30 minutes. Pacer, pusher, what’s the
diff? We got to the last aid station at mile 45-46 and again I spent
at least 15 minutes recovering, eating and loading the hydration
pack. 4.8 miles to go and the last section was some of the most
picturesque miles of the day. We were running a few hundred feet
above the river and I did my best to push myself a little farther to
make sure we made the cutoff. We pretty much walked the last mile and
then I forced myself to jog across the finish line to finish in 13:10,
50 minutes ahead of the cutoff. Most of the people enjoying the BBQ
gave me a nice applause which was nice and the most important part was
I beat the awards ceremony by about 10 minutes! It was such an
amazingly beautiful course with one big loop and no repeated mileage.
Of the 100 starters, only 59 finished by the cutoff… More good news
was apart from the knee, I had no injuries, cuts or blisters so I had
a good gear plan at least, which was nice…
 
All in all, it was quite emotional for me at the finish. Although my
running strategy was foolish and my eating regimen was outright
dangerous, I know the first ultra is the hardest and I learned a ton.
Hans was incredible for not only having the patience to walk about 75%
of the 23 miles he was with me, but also for dealing with someone who
was disgruntled and disappointed most of the way. I would have loved
to say that heat held me back, but that was not the case. The good
news is that I am already planning my revenge on this race next year.
The bad news is that I am having my knee scoped tomorrow so I will
probably be on the shelf for a while. Thanks to all of you for the
motivating words leading up to and after finishing the race. Knowing
that I would be able to write a race report to all of you saying I
finished this bad boy was definitely a motivation for me to get off my
ass at all those aid stations and push on through. You guys made a
huge difference.


 

Jamie Walker <jamie.w...@gmail.com> May 22 09:56PM -0700  

Amazing finish Phil! Inspired.
 
And I think you had one of the BEST pacers ever -- I know from experience! :)
 
 
 
Sent from my iPhone
 


 

Mason Simon <mason...@gmail.com> May 22 11:59PM -0700  

Awesome.
 
-Mason
650-353-7724 [cell]
)°(
 
 


 

David Li <dli...@gmail.com> May 23 12:17AM -0700  

Congratulations, Phil! HUGE props!!
 
David
 


 

Craig Slagel <csl...@gmail.com> May 23 12:52AM -0700  

I seem to remember you saying you would never run an ultra, I always knew you would :)
 
Congrats, so 100 miler next :)
 
Sent from my iPhone
 


 

Barbara Lutes <babs...@yahoo.com> May 23 07:23AM -0700  

What a great race report!  Thanks for sharing!!  I now have hope that I WILL make it through the Big Sur Trail Marathon by the cut off time.  Best wishes for a speedy knee recovery!
 
Barbara
 
 
________________________________
From: Mason Simon <mason...@gmail.com>
To: jamie.w...@gmail.com
Cc: "por...@yahoo.com" <por...@yahoo.com>; Golden Gate Running Club <GoldenGate...@googlegroups.com>
Sent: Tuesday, May 22, 2012 11:59 PM
Subject: Re: [GGRC] Hop Along Phil and Hans Breezy - Zion 50 Mile Race Report

Awesome.
 
-Mason
650-353-7724 [cell]
)°(
 
 


 

 SUNDAY RUN LOCATION CHANGE!

Hans Layman <hurric...@gmail.com> May 22 11:41AM -0700  

Hey running people!
 
So the Golden Gate Bridge is celebrating its 75th birthday this weekend and most of the Presidio will be shut down on Sunday so we are moving the run.
 
Same time, 10 AM, at the Beach Chalet on Ocean Beach. Feel free to hang around for brunch after wards because, in my opinion, they have the best buffet brunch in town, and some tasty mimosas to boot!
 
If you won't be there, please have a fantastic Memorial Day weekend wherever you are headed to, be safe, and we will see you out there soon!
 
Hans


 

David Li <dli...@gmail.com> May 22 11:51AM -0700  

Some of you may know that I like to eat. Hans isn't kidding when he's
talking about the buffet; $30 gets you a fantastic brunch with bottomless
mimosas. Endless bacon, freshly made omelets, flatbreads...I'm sad I'm
missing out on this.
 
OH YEAH!
 
David
 


 

Yezin Taha <yezi...@gmail.com> May 22 01:37PM -0700  

I'll see y'all there!
 
Sent from my iPhone
 


 

Erin Trimble <erin.t...@gmail.com> May 22 01:43PM -0700  

You had me at bottomless mimosas. Anyone driving from North Beach (or
Russian Hill/Nob Hill/Marina) that I could catch a ride with? Let me know!
 
 
--
Erin Trimble
erin.t...@gmail.com
(619) 992-7563


 

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