2012

No, this isn't a review of a bad movie, nor is it my New Years Eve plans.

The last possible race on my 2011 calendar was the Las Vegas Rock 'n Roll half marathon. I've run it the past two years and had a lot of fun with it, but this year the half marathon is $150. That's insane. So I won't be running it. Oh well, I'm sure they're not crying their eyes out at the for-profit Rock 'n Roll that they won't be getting my entry fee -- the marathon is already sold out and the half almost certainly will as well. Besides, they'll get me for the San Diego Rock 'n Roll in June. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In any case, with 2011 essentially over running-wise, it's time to start thinking about 2012.

My first race is already set: The Houston Marathon in January. Now that I've done my complaining about how expensive the Rock 'n Roll series is, I should admit that Houston will probably go down as the most expensive entry fee I'll ever pay. I (stupidly) missed the date for the lottery and my mom and friends got in, which meant that I could miss out or pony up for the charity entry. I took the latter route. My bank account's reaction: "Ouch!"

It'll be a fun race though -- it's a road race and very flat, so I can see if I still have any speed chops left now that I've turned my attention more towards trial and ultra races. Also, the Olympic trials for the marathon will be taking place the day before the commoners run the course.

Choices, choices, choices
My main goal for 2012 is to run my first 50-mile race. I figure that April is a pretty good month to target for scheduling that race and I've got a few on my radar.

American River 50-mile - I've never heard of this race (not that I'm a grizzled vet that knows all the major races), but it looks like a really good one. The race is in Auburn, CA, not surprisingly right along the American River. A big upshot is that the race is run by the Norcal Ultras, who ran the Golden Hills Marathon that I really enjoyed. Downsides include that it's on the pricier side ($165) and there's a decent amount of pavement on the course.

Lake Sonoma 50 mile - I love the Sonoma region of CA and from the pictures this looks like a beautiful course. It also looks like a tough course (10,500 ft of climb). The course is an out-and-back which isn't totally ideal. Also, the 2011 race was cancelled due to flooding. It looks like that's the only time that's happened, but still, that would really suck to get all my training in and then have the race cancelled.

Zane Grey Highline 50 mile - This is in Arizona and I've heard a lot of talk about this race -- it's known for being particularly challenging. An advantage is that I know a bunch of people that have run this so I can get a pretty good idea of what to expect. However, I'm not totally sure that this is the right race for my first 50.

Mokelumne River 50 mile - Definitely never heard of this one, but it looks like a really cool course. It's in Comanche Lake, CA in the Sierra Nevadas. This looks like a ridiculously hard course with 11,639 ft of climbing. It's also an out-and-back. Particularly concerning is the fact that the time limit is 12.5 hours -- I'm honestly not sure that with that amount of climbing that I'd be able to hit that limit. This race is a dark horse contender, but it's on the list...

Leona Divide 50 mile - This is another race where I know a lot of folks that have run it -- and done quite well. Looks like a fun race and well organized which is a definite plus. Another out-and-back course (maybe I should stop worrying about that...). Tough course for sure, but not quite as tough as some of the others above (8,900ft of climb). This is the current front runner (so to say).

I'm guessing I'll have to make up my mind pretty soon because these races all have pretty limited fields. At this point I'm leaning toward Sonoma or Leana Divide, but if anyone reading this has some sage thoughts (or, heck, not so sage...) feel free to share.

Everything else...
Getting a 50-mile that I'm excited about is my main focus for planning 2012, so filling in everything else will just be a matter of finding some fun races (and not being too bummed if I miss out on some). Like I said above, I've already got Houston in January and I'll be in San Diego in June. I'm sure I'll schedule another race with my crazy, marathon-running mom (in addition to Houston). 

On top of that, I'll definitely be peppering additional ultra races in there. Right now, the Chuckanut in Washington in March is high on my list (that'd necessitate a late-April 50-mile). Depending on how the 50-mile in April goes, I might head back out to Berkeley next fall to hit the Firetrails 50. I had a great time running the Golden Hills Trail Marathon and wouldn't mind bumping up in that event.

A little help from my friends
Of course, the most fun is when I get to run a race with friends or family -- or run a race near where friends live. That's why I'm doing Houston and San Diego. So if you happen to be reading this and have an itch to do a trail race (ok, any race...) with me, LET'S GET IT ON!


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Bootlegger 50K: Race Report and 6 Things I Learned

Crossing the finish

Though my trip to the Grand Canyon for the double-rim crossing was an ultra distance, Bootlegger was my much-anticipated first actual ultra race. And it didn't disappoint.

First things first though. The folks at Red Rock Running Company and a horde of awesome volunteers made this a really great race. The trail was well marked, organization was good, race website was awesome, aid stations were on point, and the swag was killer.

And I have to give a big shout out to my awesome crew chief -- my wife, Jackie. Sure this was only a 50K and I probably didn't need a crew, but it was really cool to have her there and she was great. Plus, a familiar face at an aid station is a nice psychological boost!

A clutch of really solid runners from Arizona came up for the race and rocked it. James Bonnett grabbed the W with a 4:09 finish. I wasn't too far behind (cough, cough) at 5:17. That scored me a 13th place finish, which I wasn't too disappointed with for my first shot at an ultra-distance race.

Rather than trudge my way through a blow-by-blow recap of the race, I figured I'd distill it down to a few "lessons learned" from the race.

1. If you want to post a killer time, don't punish your legs weeks before the race.
Tapering is common knowledge. That is, in the weeks leading up to a race, you reduce your training to make sure your legs are fresh and ready to go. I didn't do that this time around. Exactly two weeks ago, I did a 42-mile double crossing of the Grand Canyon. Two weeks ago. That's 14 days. You don't have to be a runner to know that that's not tapering.

Oh well. Would I have done it differently? Not a chance. The Bootlegger race was awesome, and I wanted to do my best. But running the Grand Canyon? That's something that's a huge privilege and I'm damn glad I did it, even if it did mean that I didn't put up the best time I could have at Bootlegger.

2. Go out amped, get slammed.
I was so excited for this race. So excited. That's great, but it also meant that I completely ignored sticking to a sober racing strategy. I bombed down the short downhill that started the race, ate up the 1,000-foot climb into the canyon, and was logging 7:30 and 8-minute miles through the flatter sections. My split on the first 15+ mile loop was around 2:20. That's roughly a 9-minute-mile pace, which is no joke for a runner of my caliber when you've got around 2,000 feet of climbing.

The result? I got owned by the second lap. I did a bunch of walking on the initial climb, more walking on the backside climbing, and my legs felt like they were running through molasses even on the flat sections. I had hoped to run either an even effort or even negative splits -- not even close. My second loop was around 40 minutes slower, putting my second-lap pace at around 11 minutes per mile.

3. Fuel, fuel, FUEL!

Cruising into an aid station

I generally try to take in around 250 calories per hour on efforts of three hours or longer. I whiffed on this badly in today's race. Why? Part of it was that cold temps early in the race seemed to sap my appetite. The brisk pace that I set at the outset of the race also made it more difficult to eat (mistakes often compound on themselves).

By the last two aid stations (roughly four hours in), I had taken in around 600 calories. Why is this a problem? The early intensity likely ate up a significant chunk of my glycogen stores and so it would surprise me not one bit if my late sluggishness had a lot to do with being low on fuel.

I gorged on pretzels, bananas, and Coke in the last two aid stations, which no doubt helped me on the last seven miles, but it would've been great to have done that earlier.

4. Downhill > Uphill
Downhill running can do a number on your legs, but I'd heard again and again that it's tough to gain too much of an advantage by being a bomb uphill runner, but sharp downhill chops can make a big difference. I saw that borne out today. Not surprisingly, I got passed while struggling up the climb into the canyon on the second lap and runners further back made up significant distance on me. But after cresting the peak I launched into some pretty quick downhill running that put me back ahead of the fella that passed me and left those closing in in the dust (well, except for one woman who ended up dusting me a few miles later).

5. You'll be warmer than you think.
I live in Las Vegas, which means that through September I'm still wrangling with 100-degree-plus temperatures. Since my blood has thinned out from years of living here, it also means that I'm not much of a fan of colder temperatures. For that reason, my immediate reaction to a chilly forecast is to layer up. But I've learned -- after doing that many times -- that I rarely end up being nearly as cold as I think I'll be once I start running. In fact, I generally end up overheating, sweating, and looking for the closest place to stash my heavier duds.

Though the forecast was for crisp 37-degree, wind-chilled temps for the morning of the race, I opted to go out with shorts, a short-sleeve shirt, thin running sleeves, and light gloves. Except for the gloves -- I ended up not being able to feel my fingers for much of the race -- it was a good call. I was plenty warm while temps were still cool and the sleeves were quick and easy to shed when it warmed up a bit.

6. Leave it all out there.
I made some mistakes today. My performance was probably hurt by the Grand Canyon voyage. Two of my goals were to run even or negative splits and finish in under five hours (the other was to just finish) and I didn't hit either. However, when I finished, I didn't have anything left in the tank. I'd put it all on the course. Perhaps I could have done better, but when you give it your all, there's not too much more that you can ask of yourself.

Loved the race, but happy to be done

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