Hardrock - start to Cunningham

Race morning!

I wish I could have slept a little better, but I stuck with my decaf morning coffee because I figured I would be awake soon enough, and I would really appreciate the caffeine jolt a whole lot more the following day. Standard race prep - dress, sunscreen and lube, banana, pre-race Spiz, make sure I have everything in my pack. Catch a ride a couple blocks to the start, isn't that funny? :)

Gotta check in by 5:45 am, check. No last-minute drama this year, from me or anyone else.

Kathy helped me set up a Twitter account for the race, thanks Kath! One last "tweet" before I head out and my crew takes over, captured on film for posterity. Also note the amazing miner-themed crew hat that Kathy and Bob found for John - wow, is all I can say, just wow, I about fell on the floor when they came home with it the day before:

Hanging out with Steve:

Greg is ready to go:

Me and Ryan, hoping for a great race for both of us:

Lined up and ready:

Wow, people are really running:

I started way in the back - no sense in getting overly excited about this just yet:

Can't resist including this gem:

I took it easy along the first trail, just getting my feet under me and taking the time to avoid mud and puddles and finding easy but not-to-wet ways across the little creeks. I was completely aware that my feet would soon be wet from the first creek crossing, but I wanted to give my feet as much of a break as I could early on.

I hung out with a few folks at the back, letting one guy go by so I could stop for a potty break. I was officially in last place, cool!

As I got warmed up and running a bit, I started passing a couple folks here and there. Nothing that took much energy - there was plenty of jeep road and steep uphill in the near future. I briefly saw Kathy, plus Kristina whom I'd met in the parade. I chatted a bit with Allan who had just got in the race from the wait list.

The first creek crossing was simple (calf deep?) but dang chilly. Wooo! Time to walk uphill and warm up the toes. I focused on my poles and posture and got to work. Along the way up the road I passed a couple people here and there, enjoying the chance to meet new folks and greet people I knew and smile and say good morning. My arm warmers were perfect, keeping me warm in the shade and then hanging out around my wrists if I got a bit hot.

Up on the singletrack trail I briefly started across a snow bank until I noticed the word "NO" written into it. That's a word that will get your attention (especially if you've ever trained dogs). I looked around and saw an arrow written in the snow pointing left. OK then. Other runners were a ways above me, but I had not seen how they got up there. I followed the arrow, found a trail, and eventually found a race marker. I looked below and saw that going forward would have taken me to a pretty lake - another time, I guess.

More uphill work, listening to my breathing and feeling OK with it. I tried to breathe deeply and stay relaxed, not let my heart rate get too high. This first climb was just a test for me, and so far everything seemed to be working. And here's the top! I chatted with a couple more ladies along the top of the ridge, Jennifer and a woman I don't know.

I was pleasantly surprised to see a clear trail along the sometimes-snow covered and sketchy traverse. I had heard from a racer named Jeff that it shouldn't be too bad, and it was so easy I started to wonder if all the trail condition reports (snow, snow melt, mud, wetness, high creeks) had been exaggerated. OK, I knew they had not been, but it was fun to hope for a short time.

Downhill time! And it's a steep one. I eased downward, using the poles, still going faster than a few people but not trying to. I was patient and most folks got out of the way when they saw me coming. It was a bit too technical for my tastes up top, but eventually it turned into a nice trail that I could run here and there when I wasn't climbing over random rocks.

What a beautiful morning - gorgeous Colorado splendor. Waterfalls, snow patches, blue sky, green hills. Right here, right now, there is no other place I'd rather be. It was about as close to "in the moment" as I have come, no problems, no worries, just being there on that hillside. So lovely.

Eventually I could see over the edge down to the aid station so I waved my poles in case anyone could see me. There was lots of cheering as most the field passed through the aid station ahead of me. Out of the sunshine into still-morning shadow, across one more switchback. I tripped slightly and caught my pole on my right leg, nothing that would have stayed with me except a) I felt silly stumbling in front of the biggest crowd of the race and b) it put a small mark on my leg. A battle scar! The last time I had one of those I had an excellent race (and at least this one wasn't bleeding). Things were looking up :)

My chair awaiting my arrival - with some new "rockin'" duckies - sweet!

People watching for runners:

Kathy or Bob took this beautiful shot - I love it. Our trail came down to the right of the waterfalls:

Not blazing fast but I'll get there:

Kathy was waiting for me at the creek crossing, and she mentioned that it was a bit deep and fast. Good to know - I got focused and worked my way across carefully. Another creek crossing down, so far nothing out of the ordinary.

My crew went to work like it was a pit stop in a car race! Before I knew it, both bottles were filled, I had a resupply of Spiz packed, I drank my Gookinaid and Ensure, and I was ready to go again. That was fast! Too fast for the duckies to hang on to their perches, they were flying everywhere:

John walked out with me and I told him I was feeling great. And Hi Jim! (the guy with the vest and clipboard):

It was a very nice start to a long race. Time to get back up high for a while.

Cunningham aid station = 2:57 total time, approx 122nd place (of 140 starters)

Hardrock 100 - preamble

Yes, folks, this is a long one! So long that it needs its own preamble (pre-amble, hmm... I didn't do that on purpose, I swear). You may have heard that I finished one of the biggest races of my life, certainly the hardest solo race I've done, although it wasn't without lots of help. So it's only fitting that I have a ton to express in my race report. As with many races, this blog stems from a selfish effort, but if we're lucky a couple other people will get a little something out of it too.

I had heard of the Hardrock 100 mile ultrarunning race many years ago. It sounded extremely difficult, but maybe if I finished a bunch of other 100's first I would be able to determine if I should try it someday. It also sounded a bit crazy. 100 miles at 8,000 to 14,000 ft elevation, up and down steep trails (and off trails), 33,000+ feet of climb, in occasionally dangerous conditions. Yeah...right.

So I went and ran several 100's, learning a lot from each and especially from the one I didn't finish. I also gained valuable experience with gear, clothing, training, and endurance in 50-milers and 100k's, 24-hour rogaines and adventure races, plus a few expedition adventure races and two journeys on foot from Lake Geneva to the Mediterranean Sea (successfully the 2nd time).

In an expedition race in the San Juan Mountains in the early 2000's, our team was on the last section of the race with a walk down Bridal Veil Basin toward a rappel at the falls. We saw a runner coming toward us - running UPHILL - we learned he was training for Hardrock. That left us stunned and amazed (and in all fairness, our mental state was generally stunned and amazed at that point in the race, but since the impression remained after the race I have to believe it was real). It turns out that you don't HAVE to be quite so superhuman to finish Hardrock, i.e. running up the hills is not required. But it doesn't hurt.

Me = not superhuman. So instead I worked on being prepared. John gained entry into the race in 2008 and 2010, so I joined him for trail marking, trail work, crewing, and managing Putnam Aid Station in 2009. In 2010 I was so grateful to get to pace him from Ouray to Cunningham during his most amazing Hardrock performance; we both look back on that race and smile. In the past 3 years I had done basically everything except actually run the race myself.

February 2011. I got in. I got in?? I got in!!!

Time to get serious! I climbed the equivalent of the 33k+ elevation gain every 4-5 weeks, getting to know various Catskills trails and mountains. Also two 50-mile races and the Massanutten 100 (MMT100) - it was a lucky lottery year for me! - and a 24-hour orienteering event. I learned something with every race, made adjustments, planned, strategized.

My list of "things to watch" (concerns? worries? things to work on?):

Altitude - Obviously not something I could do anything about from New York state, although I did research altitude sleeping tents briefly. I used all my vacation to head to Colorado two weeks before the race and climb 14ers with John. I hoped my previous Colorado summers would speed up acclimation (seemed to!). I took iron pills and ate spinach, in case that might help. Otherwise I tried not to fret as spring passed at sea level.

Feet - Blister issues in the last miles of MMT100 caused some concern. Hardrock isn't as rocky overall, but I knew I would have wet feet for up to 48 hours - great input from John. I went after my feet with pumice and a conditioner concoction, I started doing all my long runs with wet feet, and I ended up with pretty much brand new skin and zero callouses. Still... you never know.

Knees - Downhill knee pain at the Bull Run Run resulted from bombing down everything right from the start. I stopped doing that (duh - except I love doing that). I also learned I had to get out of the stairwell - I was using the 4 flights at work for stair climbing repeats (36 times up and down for 2000 feet of climb) which worked great in the winter but didn't translate to downhill fitness. I restarted my knee strengthening exercises and taking glucosamine. I had learned a lot about knees in the Grande Traversee des Alpes, and I again put it all to bear.

Climbing - I'm not a strong climber by nature, but I've learned that my body will adapt if I focus on it. Lots of uphills, weekly hill repeats (multiple 100-foot climbs, anyone?), 8-10 hours on weekends doing long repeats in the Catskills. This isn't the Rockies, but still I had to be thankful I wasn't trying this in central Texas. Climbing 14ers for a week was a nice flourish at the end.

Throat? - This one showed up the week before the race and scared me a bit. The day before I left New York a coworker mentioned he might have strep. WHAT? What are you doing at work? I was so glad that didn't pass over to me, but my throat was scratchy off and on leading up to the race. I hoped like heck that it was just a side effect from the dry air (not one I normally have, but you never know).

Other - Lightning, hail, pouring rain, freezing cold, blazing sun, snow, ice, bears, mountain lions, moose, scree, cliffs, rocks, mud, Virginius, Bear Creek, Grant Swamp, sunburn, cracked lips, ankle injuries, stomach problems, getting lost, lack of sleep, and last but certainly not least the high water creek crossings... (sign here)

On my side: John, Kathy, Bob, Ann, Scott, Jason, Shauna, Kelly, Ryan (a fellow runner - go Ryan!); a huge number of runners we know along with their crew and pacers; folks like Jim and Sue who were helping run the race; countless friends and family watching online and rooting for me. With all that positive energy, I knew I had a fighting chance.

(John is a lot of great things, but we figured out early on that he wasn't cut out to be our official race photographer)

Howdy from Silverton, CO! Let's get this thing started :)

Selection of CO pics

Vacation is almost over - "real" posts will follow eventually, but for now here is a selection of pre-race photos from Colorado: