2006 AR50 Race Report From: George Miller Date: Tue, 4 Apr 2006 12:37:05 -0700 Here’s a quick low down from the American River 50 Mile Endurance Run last weekend: 1. I was able to raise over $7,000 for the Diabetes Youth Foundation's Bearskin Meadows Camp for kids with diabetes. Donations are still coming in! 2. I finished in 10:27:56; #47/96 in my age group; #248/445 total finishers. 3. I was able to cut 69 minutes off of my previous AR50 time averaging 12:34 minutes per mile. 4. It was muddy fun beyond belief. 5. The winner, Uli Steidl (34) finished in 5:58:21 with an average of 7:10 minutes/mile – he’s from another planet! “When 13 miles was my longest run, 26 seemed impossible. When 26 miles was my longest run, 50 seemed impossible. When 50 miles was my longest run, 100 seemed impossible. When 100 miles was my longest run, 50 seemed like a nice training run.” ~ Unknown ultra runner The much more detailed version goes like this: To those unfamiliar with a “race report”, it’s a long sack of self indulgent drivel trying to express ten thousand feelings that went through a mind intoxicated by running for 10.5 hours. I understand completely if you don’t get past this paragraph. For the rest of you poor souls who love a story, I hope you can take your time and enjoy… I arrived in Sacramento the day before the race to pick up my bib and timing chip. The sky was an ominous grey but the ground was dry. I dropped off 12 pair of old running shoes that some of you donated (they'll be distributed in South Africa in a couple weeks). The registration desk was well staffed so I drove up to the finish line in Auburn to help set up. Unfortunately, the guy that was supposed to guard the area that night was not going to show up so there was no action at all. The sky began to spit rain in a cold wind. I walked down the last 2.4 miles of the course just to re-familiarize myself with what I'd be doing 24 hours hence at mile 47.6. After a quick dinner, I drove to Lezlee's aunt's home in Penryn for the night. The wipers were on "high" by this time as the sky was DUMPING rain. I listened to as many weather reports as I could so I'd be able to develop a clothing plan for race day but of course, there were no guarantees. I awoke around 0200, saw stars in the sky and was happy for the reprieve. I drove to the finish line, packed my stuff and hopped on the shuttle bus that would take 40 crazed ultra runners to the starting line. The excitement was very high as all kinds of running war stories were swapped between new friends who were about to “go into battle” together. I always enter a race with a set of goals and for this year’s AR50 I had 4: 1. To raise money for diabetes camp scholarships. 2. To finish 50 miles feeling uninjured. 3. To improve my past times and finish under 11 hours. 4. To create world peace. When we arrived at the starting line, the sky was still a bit dark and the ground was damp. The herd of 500 starters kept exchanging tales as the excitement of the 0600 start crept closer. Now remember, this is a 50 mile run so MOST people, normal ones anyway (if there is such a thing at this event), don’t take off too fast. Being accustomed to the back of the pack, I usually let the thoroughbreds, jack rabbits, and racing hounds go ahead which makes me feel more comfortable starting my day slow and gentle. The first mile winds around so I could see the lead runners on a parallel trail. They were absolutely FLYING at a pace I could keep up for only a very short time but hey, they train to WIN – good for them. There’s not a whole lot to tell about the first 24 miles as it’s flat as a pancake along the American River bike path. It winds along side the river and is very beautiful in its own right but I hate, hate, hate running on pavement since it turns my legs into mush! I was glad to have road shoes for this section and did my best to run along the crushed rock pathway on the side which helps…a bit. It didn’t take long for the crowd to thin out and by running 20 minutes and walking for 2, I found a pace that was comfortable. Somewhere around mile 8 it began to drizzle and it didn’t take long to get totally soaked. Fortunately, the air temp was comfortable and I was able to run with a t-shirt, shorts, gloves and a hat. I thought of the different groups of people that had helped provide scholarships to kids at diabetes camp - runners, firefighters, friends and family – you’re all great! Throughout the day I carried one bottle of water and one of Amino (carbohydrate/protein replacement drink). In my Race Ready shorts, I packed an MP3, beef jerky, SUCCEED (electrolyte replacement capsules), extra packets of powdered Amino, Hammer Gel (carbohydrate replacement), cinnamon raisin bread, half tuna sandwich and a few Rollos. This would keep me going until mile 27.4 where I could replenish my supply of goodies. So flat, flat, flat, flat, flat, flat I ran for 24 miles. For those who have run with me before, you know that sort of terrain is the DEATH of me. I need hills to become energized and that’s exactly what happened. There’s something special about running on the uneven dirt surface with wild flowers, horse droppings and poison oak along the trail that just makes life more fun. Speaking of poison oak, if you ever get it, I found a product called Ivy Block works very well for me. It’s applied like a sunscreen prior to exposure. Since using it, I’ve never broken out in a rash. Oh yea, did I mention the magic word for the day is “MUD”. Slippery, sloppy, gooey, splattering MUD. I felt like a kid again and that can be dangerous. I pulled into Beals Point (mile 27.4) on Folsom Lake in the same time as my last two AR50’s - 4:50 and just like before, my legs felt tired. I refilled my supplies, changed my shirt and hat and switched to Vasque Velocity trail shoes hoping to get a bit more traction through the rest of the day’s mud. I began to nibble on a tuna sandwich while crossing the dam(n) knowing that it the process of digesting the fat and protein would slow my pace down – a good thing at this point as there were 22.6 miles to go. So I took my time at a jogger’s pace knowing that tough times always get better and good times always get tougher in the last half. Yea, I was still smiling. The damn was the last piece of flatness I would see until the finish line. The hills from here on out are fairly rolly polly with none of them being killer long or brutally steep – at least compared to training in the hills of Purisima, Montara or Huddart. Now please don’t expect exact distance recollection from here on out as this brain was working as hard as the legs at this point, but somewhere around mile 32 I was able to “light the fuse” and the booster rocket kicked in. It wasn’t until passing a couple people that I realized what was going on. For the first time in my 3 years of running ultra events, my hydration, carbohydrates, electrolytes and pacing were ALL dialed in. FINALLY I had made it to where I needed to be to run my best. My body was firing on all 8 cylinders and I began passing people one by one. In the mental game, you get 10 points for passing someone but lose 20 points if they pass you later so it’s important to be very careful with going out too hard and then fizzling out. From mile 32 to 44 that rocket kept burning free and for an unusually long while, I felt like a thoroughbred. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t effortless. It was maximal output and maximum gain but I think I got a glimpse at how some of those people, who were done with their race by now, must feel when they run. FINALLY I had arrived at “Ultra Nirvana”. The AR50 for 2006 will be forever known as “The Mudfest”. If there wasn’t a creek running down the center of the trail, there was up to 6” of thick stuff. For those that know me, you know that I’m the first to hit the puddles and the first to get muddy – sorry but I just can’t help it. I balked at the first couple mud pits on the trail until I realized that nobody would be exempt so I went straight through them with little pause for thought as the Mud Demons tried to suck my shoes off! Luckily there were enough stream crossings that the goo washed off fairly quickly. Unfortunately, my shoes were soaked inside and out. Fortunately my feet didn’t give a hoot about being wet (Bag Balm applied in the morning helped) and I made it fun (there’s that “kid” thing in me I just can’t avoid). Did I mention that good times get tougher? Somewhere while I was flying along, I saw a mile marker and calculated only 10 more miles to go. WOW! I was going to be at the finish line MUCH faster than I thought. I was going to be in the FRONT of the pack (the first 33.3% of finishers) for the first time in my life! I was dumbfounded. Well no, I was just dumb. As it turned out, the mile marker was for a different trail and instead of 10 miles left I actually had 14! “Oh CRAP! So NOW what do I do?” The instant mental funk of discovering my blunder was replaced by the knowledge that, on any other day, 4 miles would be a nice short training run. I was disappointed but adjusted my pace for the extra time and distance. I remembered my friend Scott who days before had wished me the best of luck on this run. He pointed his two fingers at his eyes then pointed them at mine then at his then at mine and said, “Here. Keep it here,” as if to remind me that it was the concentration during tough times that would get me through. It did. Thanks Scott. The sun was out and things were warming up. By mile 44, I was having a bit of difficulty keeping up on the calories. The Hammer Gel was NOT at all appetizing but I forced it down as best I could knowing that there was food, REAL FOOD, just a few miles and a couple hours away. I smelled the finish line a bit too early and didn’t want to fizzle out. I lost 20 points to a steady runner passing me. Enter “The Mental Game”. Running the first 28 miles was 80% physical and 20% mental. Running the next 16 miles was 50% physical and mental. Running the last 6 miles was 80% mental and 20% physical. It was here that I thought of every single person that donated to the Diabetes Youth Foundation…EVERY single one of you! I thought of who you are in my life, why I sent you a letter asking for donations, and what you might have felt when you read that letter. Occasionally, my eyes would get misty. Then around mile 46, I did a decent performance of the “Trail Ballet”. WARNING: RUN ON SENTENCE AHEAD: This is where your foot doesn’t quite clear the top of a rock, you trip, and you dance along bent over at the waist at a 12 minute per mile pace perilously lurching forward with outstretched hands with eyes as wide as silver dollars hoping with all your might that you can recover prior to kicking the next frickin’ rock as you try to catch your breath and your calf cramps. Oh yea, it’s pretty all right – pretty fun to watch I’m sure! Well I recovered nicely without a face-plant and realized that I really needed to improve my concentration by putting one foot in front of the other carefully for the remainder of the race. I didn’t want to get injured at THIS point. Enter mile 47. From here on out there is zero downhill and zero flat until the finish. The “toughest” hill is a bit less than ½ mile long leading up to the last aid station. It’s no big deal but at this point in the day it “weren’t not easy neither,” he grumbled. I climbed slowly, very slow but so was everyone else. Encouraging words were exchanged as I came across two resting runners – standing still, alive but breathing at a rate one would call “tachypnic”! I blew through the last aid station, appropriately named “Last Gasp”, getting only a bit of water and 7-up (rocket fuel). Earlier I mentioned that I had walked this portion just the day before and it was a real boost to see it again and have it so familiar. I was able to run 50% of the hill at a pretty good pace and “walked with authority” the other 50%. As I passed people, we all smiled broadly, congratulated each other on a fine day and kept on pushing the final mile of our race. In a gesture of true champions, some of the people that had already finished were walking back DOWN the course giving encouragement to the rest of us for our day’s toil. True champions they be. The finish line has maybe 100 friends, family and previous finishers hanging around waiting for their runner to come in. Norm Klein announces your race number, name and city you’re from over the public address system. I made the last turn hoping to put a bit of a kick in my step just for ego points but it just wasn’t there. I ran gently as few friends hollered as I crossed the line in 10:28. It was great to hear your voices. The AR50 is known for its finisher’s coats: you finish, you get a coat and it’s given to you within 10’ or 10 seconds of crossing the line. I put mine on right away to keep from getting chilled then proceeded to my car to get my wallet to buy two hot dogs and two beers (ROOT beers). As I refueled, I proceeded to the de-con area (a garden hose and bars of Fels Naphtha soap to wash away the mud and urushiol from the poison oak). This is where I met 2 guys that I had taught swimming lessons with 30 years ago! More war stories told by smiling faces were swapped all around the finishing area as runners continued in. For my friends in the Pacifica Runnins Club who want to know, no, I didn’t see Dean Karnazes at all. He finished a bit in front of me at #34 in 7:51 for 9:26 minutes/mile pace. Sorry I don’t have any autographed pictures for you but you can drool over his website at: www.ultramarathonman.com. I met Shannon Farar-Griefer at the finish line. She's a very nice woman who runs to raise funds for Ronald McDonald House in So. Cal. and was very the first to respond to my request for donations to the Diabetes Youth Foundation. I appreciated her encouragement regarding fund raisers. Shannon was the first woman to run the “Double Badwater” race from Badwater (280’ below sea level) to Mt. Whitney Portal (8,360’ above sea level) AND BACK for a total of 270 miles. In-frickin’- credible: www.ultrashannon.com Things that went right: 1. Raised over $7,000 for the Bearskin Meadows camp for kids with diabetes (the checks are STILL coming in!). Thank you SO much. I hope you understand how BIG this is and how much of a positive effect it will have on families. It’s absolutely HUGE!!! You all ROCK!!! 2. Training leading up to the race was more focused than ever before. I didn’t have as many miles as I wanted but I learned how to do “quality” miles.(thank you Syl) 3. Hydration, calories, electrolytes and pacing felt on target most of the day (thank you again and again and again dc & Gillian www.zombierunner.com) 4. My last three 50 mile runs taught me how to “survive” the time and distance on the trail. This race I felt good being a bit more aggressive. Taking 1 hour 9 minutes off of the last 22.6 miles is a BIG confidence builder for me. 5. The mud slowed us down forcing some short heart rate recovery breaks that I might not have normally taken. 6. Pre race tapering went well. A 40 mile week two weeks before and a 9 mile week right before. 7. Zero injuries going into and coming out of the race. Oh a couple very small blisters from my "too small" road shoes but they were no hindrance at all. Two days after the race, 95% of the muscle soreness is gone (which tells me I may be able to go faster and/or further). Things to improve: 1. Learn to run faster on long, flat sections. It doesn’t mean I have to LIKE it though. 2. Find new sources of calories that don’t slow the pace. 3. Find a way to create world peace. Thank you for all who made it down this far. Let's run! (~: George