It's Hardrock time! The last time I ran it was in 2011, so I had no idea how it might go 14 years later. I've never been fast but I've always felt young. Not sure if that last statement matches reality anymore.
The best part was our next set of Colorado compatriots - Kip and Jason! We were super stoked that they traveled to Silverton just for this weekend.
Even funnier was the idea that Team Vignette was back together in the San Juan Mountains. Here's our Primal Quest expedition race finish in 2002, and I think we all look about the same except for John's hair:
I was invited to be part of the "Women's Panel" so I joined a bunch of inspirational ladies on stage to talk about our experiences in various matters, racing-related and otherwise:
All checked in, with a tracker on my pack shoulder, at the start/finish line and probably thinking "I have no idea what this weekend will hold!"
Team Vignette in the gym for the pre-race presentation:
Team Vignette at the starting line! July in the mountains = at least it's not hot outside:
A fire engine carrying some Hardrock legends led the charge off the starting line:
And we're off! With a gentle run up the road, in my case:
I can't recall why this photo is blurry, possibly because someone captured it on the race webcam and sent it to me:
Kip took a video of the race start, and I'm pleased to see a red vuvuzela in the mix:
As in 2011, I started in the back of the pack and ran my own race. It was fun seeing the same terrain, finding it especially helpful that Robyn and I had trekked the same ground in our Softrock week in 2022.
The trail was straightforward, one easy creek crossing, then onto the mining road that climbs for awhile. It really felt like I was the last one in the race field, as I saw nobody below me. Occasionally I caught glimpses of guys above me, and I even passed a couple of them briefly on the trail up high before they ran by me down the other side.
Long switchbacks down to the Cunningham aid station, hello awesome crew! They moved me through quickly, as I knew I needed all the extra time I could gain by having short stops, and we were an efficient team.
Jogging with Kip toward the next trailhead:
A 2nd excellent video from Kip, with an special appearance by Chester Cheetah:
Another long climb, because that's what this whole experience is about. My legs and lungs were fine with it, and I was glad for all the "just in case" training I had done.
It was beautiful up high. I remember a group of people sitting in lawn chairs greeting runners, and I don't think I hallucinated that.
Just following course markings, on little trails across big scenic expanses. I tried to take it in while still giving a solid effort. I do remember being happy to be there that morning. More spectators who had driven and hiked a long way up to cheer for people. I've enjoyed that side of the race myself once or twice.
The course drops down to the Maggie aid station, where a few runners were still there. I didn't need much, just a water refill, so I was able to get out of there quickly. Which I was glad about, because there was a woman sitting there saying something about training so hard for this and now her race was over, but I didn't stick around to find out why.
I was starting to wonder about my aid station splits. My times were well ahead of the cutoffs but significantly behind my 2011 times and my slightly looser estimates for 2025. Well, maybe I can make up some time on the run down to the Pole Creek.
That certainly didn't happen, partly because my downhill running felt fairly slow, and then because the course had been rerouted at the bottom. It circled way around before climbing back toward the aid station. I even took a sit break to eat a spare bar I was carrying to keep from getting too hungry.
I managed my aid station tasks only slightly slower than I would have liked, trying not to lose even more minutes to where I thought I should have been. The aid station guys explained the course reroute. I might have seen it with Robyn during Softrock but I completely forgot, that was the one surprise for me about the course.
OK, nothing to do but soldier onward and upward! My body still felt reasonably peppy and I felt like I was giving a solid medium effort (without overdoing anything). I just couldn't explain why the result was so much slower than I had expected. I may feel young, but there's a chance I'm actually not...
Up to the high point of this part of the course and then over to a long undulating field. There were probably little creek crossings and maybe some muddy spots, nothing that stood out as a major obstacle. The course was in amazingly good condition overall this year.
The side of my lower right leg was twitching. It felt like it was thinking about cramping. This is not a new phenomenon for me - various muscles in my legs and feet tend to cramp at about this point in races. Usually it just gets on with it, cramps a couple times, makes me sit for a minute while it sorts itself out, and then it mostly goes away.
This was different, no cramps, just twitching. On the long run down toward Sherman aid station, it actually started hurting. That's a new one! I wrapped it in an Ace bandage and that helped a little.
I wasn't sure what to do about it, so I asked if a medical person could take a look. She was great, finding the aggravated spot and discovering that it was a knot in my tendon. She did what she could - massaging it and taping it up. Maybe that would be enough?
In the meantime I got all my drop bag and nighttime stuff together, ate and drank some aid station vittles, and decide to at least make my way up the road to the Burrows aid station. Thank you, wonderful people at Sherman!
While I was at Sherman, runners kept popping out of the woods behind me. I guess I wasn't actually running in last place, even though it felt like it much of the time.
It would have been lovely if I could have run much of the next road section, but every time I tried my leg said "ow, no thank you." Speed-walking it is then!
Quickly through Burrows and onto the trail toward Handies Peak. It started fine, with big steps, and a flat foot placement was OK. Higher up when the trail turned to an actual slope (and a steep-ish one at that) my leg immediately told me it was not OK. Knowing how big this climb was and how it was about to get dark, it was an easy decision to turn around.
I got some comfort when my leg was also "ow, ow" on the steep downhill slope, so nothing about the Handies Peak section would have worked out. As much as I wished to get to my crew on my own two feet.
Back to the Burrows aid station where I hung out for a while, chatted with a woman from Tucson (wish I could remember who that was), and eventually coordinated an extraction with another runner who had dropped. His family was coming to retrieve him and they had a seat in their 4WD vehicle. I also eventually got ahold of John to let him know not to drive over there.
There was more adventure to come, meeting the runner's family and hired Jeep driver, and experiencing a nighttime crossing of Cinnamon Pass. Eventually I made it back to Silverton, happy for a shower and bed.
So I finished the "Hardrock 50K" which ain't nothing. Of course I'm disappointed, especially wondering how my slower speed would have played out with upcoming aid station cutoffs. I had been looking forward to spending time on the Hardrock course with my teammates, chatting about Primal Quest and everything else we like to talk about while we're out in the wilderness.
In the end, it's all OK. I got to spend more time with my friends and family and we ended up having a fun weekend together. I'm grateful for the whole experience and it's all good!
And that's enough of that :)
