Nathan and I spent Friday night and yesterday in Pine Mountain, GA, where I ran in the 1st North Face Endurance Challenge that "Atlanta" (Pine Mountain is NOT in Atlanta) has hosted. I was very excited to escape from med school studying for a day and run the 50.7 miles of technical single track in the same race as elite ultrarunners such as Geoff Roes and Nikki Kimball. I wasn't sure what to expect in terms of my time. I had topped out my training with long runs of 33 and 36 miles but these miles were mostly flat and not on technical terrain given the limitations of training in Charleston. I was especially worried about the downhills, as I had been able to do some uphill on the treadmill but only minimal downhill. I had the impression (rightly so!) that this course would be more challenging than that of Bull Run Run, my previous 50. So I decided to not set any goals beyond finishing until I was about halfway through the race and could better gauge the situation.
Start to Country Store (5.0 miles)
At 3:15 AM yesterday, Nathan and I were up and getting ready to go catch the shuttle to the race start. At 5 AM, 124 of us were headed across the short field to the single track where we formed a long line of headlamps disappearing into the distance. I was very careful to watch my feet as I had only used a headlamp on a wide gravel trail before. Unfortunately, this meant I wasn't looking up, and I ran headfirst into one of the many trees that branched over the trail. It nearly knocked me down and gave me a headache that would be with me the rest of the day. The first aid station was only five miles in and required each runner to check in, so just as the field was starting to spread out about three miles into the race, we found ourselves waiting in stop-and-go (really run-and-walk) traffic coming into the aid station. My time was already much slower than I would have expected even given my uncertainty so I was eager to get going. I checked in, filled up my water bottle, and hurried off trying to get around some of the crowd.
Country Store to Fox Den, 6.2 miles.
I soon found myself waiting "in line" behind a group of runners. I ran with them for a couple miles before I decided that I would rather run many of the sections they deemed too technical and passed them. I caught up with a runner named Matt and chatted with him for the next few miles. Some of this section was quite technical and along a cliff which was a bit unsettling in the dark. I felt like Matt and I were flying but the time was still slow when I reached the aid station. This would be a theme for the entire day due to how technical the trails were. Matt needed to eat and slowed down just before the station so I went on alone.
Fox Den to Mollyhugger, 4.9 miles.
The first 2-3 miles were mostly downhill so I took off and feared for my quads later. I caught up to another pack and ran with them for awhile before deciding again that I wanted to walk a little less than they were and moving on. It was light outside now and I was less worried about falling and felt comfortable navigating the tricky stuff. As I approached the next aid station, I geared up for the following section which the packet promised was the hardest on the course.
Mollyhugger to Rocky Point, 7.0 miles.
Knowing that this section had a significant amount of climbing (we reached our highest elevation of 1360') I gave myself a generous estimate as to the time it would take to reach the next station. There was a good bit of climbing, but it wasn't too steep and mostly runnable. In this section and the last, I was back and forth with a woman named Christine who would run all the uphills (except when we were climbing over boulders). Christine and I were near each other for awhile and then I didn't see her again. When she finished, she immediately had medical personnel inspecting her wrist, so she must have been one of the many to take a nasty spill. 15 minutes before I expected to, I reached the Rocky Point aid station and was thrilled to have the section behind me.
Rocky Point to Tower, 4.9 miles.
This section started off very easy and I ran it fast, excited to see Nathan at the next aid station (mile 28) which the only point of crew access. Halfway through the section was a long descent down to a creek where the course was the most technical in the race. I found this section much harder than the previous as very little of it was runnable. I would estimate it took me about 40 minutes to cover 2 miles. I was also having stomach issues this section and I knew I needed to eat but everything made me nauseous. Just before the aid station, I was shocked as Nikki Kimball came up behind me. She chatted with me for a minute, asking how I was and telling me the aid station was close. Turns out she and a few of elite men had accidentally done a loop for the later part of the course first so she was really 6 miles ahead of me. The race organizers let them just run the course in a different order, so we all ended up doing about the same distance. I finally reached the aid station, much later than I had told Nathan to expect me, but he had not been worried. He said that I was only the 3rd or 4th woman to come through (I was actually 5th counting Nikki Kimball) so he wasn't worried at all. I changed out of my Salomon trail shoes which had already forced me to stop twice to band-aid hotspots, dropped off my jacket, gloves, headlamp and glasses, got more food and water, and was on my way.
Tower to Dowdell Knob, 4.2 miles.
Changing into my Asics was the best decision I made the entire race. I felt so light and I had no further blister issues. But now I had this crazy mind game going on. I had been thinking about trying to get top 10 women and I was having a hard time believing that I was currently in the top 5. I cruised along in my new light shoes and passed two women in this section. But wait, if Nathan was right, that would make me first or second. I couldn't believe that, so I just tried not to think about it and run the best race that I could, whatever that meant.
Dowdell Knob to Fox Den, 5.3 miles
It was starting to heat up in this section and I ran out of water before I reached the aid station. My stomach was still not completely happy and I knew I needed to eat more, especially more salty things than sweet, but without water my crackers dried me up and I could hardly swallow them. I'm not a runner who can guzzle water at the aid station and take off-I have to sip at it or it will make me sick. So I was thrilled when I arrived at Fox Den and they told me it was only 1.9 miles to the next stop. I could drink an entire bottle in that time and "catch up" on my hydration. As I approached the aid station, a volunteer told me that I was the second woman through (I was actually 3rd, it probably was skewed Nikki Kimball's alternate course). Now with two sources, I had to actually believe it. Suddenly, I was "racing."
Fox Den to Mollyhugger, 4.9 miles.
It was not 1.9 miles to the next station. I guzzled my water intentionally and then had to make do with less once I realized the error. A guy named Bryan came up behind me and we chatted for awhile. He had actually been winning the men's overall race when he sprained his ankle and had to walk for 10 miles. He and I ran together for a couple miles, which was good because it pushed me since he was obviously a faster runner than me. At one point we had to guess as to which way was the right way to turn with no way of knowing if we went the right way for a couple miles. I was terrified of adding 4 miles to the course but luckily we picked correctly.
Mollyhugger to Buzzard's Roost, 5.4 miles.
It was about this time that my watch passed the time I ran my previous 50 in, (9:59). A lot of what made this race so challenging was how long it took. It was very mentally tough to race for almost 12 hours, especially when I was thinking at any minute I could get passed and move out of second place (actually third place, but I got a lot of wrong information yesterday). I heard a high pitched squeal as some one tripped behind me and I knew I was about to get passed. Turned out, it was a young boy who's voice hadn't changed yet. I don't know if he was doing the 50 mile or one of the shorter races out on the course. I passed a lot of people in this section, but they were mostly people racing in the 50k or marathon.
Buzzard's Roost to Finish, 2.6 miles.
I was planning to try to run the entire section because I knew there wasn't much climbing and the last thing I wanted was to get passed a half-mile from the finish. I took off from the aid station at the fastest pace I had run all day, which was a bad idea because I could only maintain it for about 7 minutes before I had to walk. Just as almost every other section of the day, this section took much longer than I expected. Finally I could hear the finish line festival and as I came out of the woods I was told to run towards the guy in yellow which turned out to be...Nathan! As I crossed the finish line, they announced that I was the second overall female (yeah, they were still confused).
My overall time was 11:40:54--I still can't believe how hard I ran for such a slow time but that just speaks to the difficultly of the course. Nikki Kimball covered the distance in just 9:01:45 for first woman and third overall. I never saw the second place woman until the stage at the end (Kim Nosenchuk-Brooks) but she finished just 12 minutes and 2 places ahead of me. I ended up 28th overall. Dean Karnazes helped me up on the stage and asked me "tough course, huh?" I had to restrain myself from asking him if that was his fault. I won a medal, a northface jacket, and $350 (!) for finishing third. I certainly never expected I could place so high in a race so it was a great experience!
I'll post pictures (including one on the stage with Dean Karnazes, Nikki Kimball, and Kim Nosenchuk-Brooks) when they're available either here or on facebook.
-Jordan
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Grandfather Mountain Marathon
Well, we did it. Nathan and I are now a married couple! After a wonderful honeymoon in Montana (turns out I like mountain biking after all and Yellowstone is beautiful), we headed up to Boone for a couple races. Friday, Nathan rode in the 65 mile Grizzly Metric Century which he'll post about soon while our dog Jerry followed along and cheered. The next day it was Nathan's turn to cheer and babysit Jerry and my turn to race. I was running the Grandfather Mountain Marathon, self-proclaimed as “One of America's Toughest Marathons.” I had planned to train by alternating Saturday runs between twenty mile road runs at pace and slower 4 to 5 hour trail runs at Paris Mountain, adding a track workout, tempo run, and 1-2 easy runs during the week.
However, fate had other plans. During a 21-mile road run, I stepped into a porta-potty on a steep hill. I fell out the door as it toppled over and dislocated my shoulder in the landing. It was a week before I could run again and two weeks before I could do another long run, so I was entering the Grandfather Mountain Marathon somewhat under-trained. As a result, I decided to take it easy in the marathon and not worry about my time. However, in the back of my mind was Nathan's time from the day before (4:08:59) and our friendly contest of who could have the faster time for the weekend.
Grandfather Mountain is billed as tough largely because of the hills. To get an impression of the climbing, here's an elevation chart from mapmyrun.com:
The profile is a little deceptive because the first half was actually harder than the second half. Luckily, I overheard comments like this before the race started and didn't worry myself about walking as early as the first few miles when steep hills lasted several miles with no break in sight. Everyone else around me was also walking from time to time, and I found myself still fresh late in the race and able to pass many folks when the course was more runnable. I was pretty conservative on the downhills, not wanting to trash my quads, but in retrospect I regret that as I finished with no soreness whatsoever in my quads.
The course was almost entirely on asphalt roads which were open to traffic, including traffic to the largest Scottish Highland games in the country, which was where our race finished. Because the roads were so hilly and curvy, they were all banked and there were few opportunities to run on even ground. This caused all my old injuries to rear their heads at least minimally and makes for a course I wouldn't recommend for the injury prone. I've also resolved to move away from my Mizunos entirely as I've been hobbling around with a sore ankle which, after inspection, my dad the doctor says could indicate a stress fracture (I had a similar issue on the bottom of my foot after running a 50K in the Mizunos).
At the halfway mark I had a time of about 2:03, so shooting for Nathan's time was not unreasonable. However, there wasn't much downhill left so it wouldn't be as simple as running even splits. Miles 16-17 were a steep uphill, much of which was on rocky gravel (not the nice dirt road I was expecting) and so by the time I crested that climb, I realized I would have to pick it up a little to beat him. My stomach encouraged me to take it easy: I've grown accustomed to sipping continuously from my handheld water bottle and I found myself leaving each aid station with my stomach hurting from drinking too much water, but still thirsty.
We turned onto the road for the last 9 miles of hugging the side of the road to avoid all the patrons of the Scottish Games making their way to the festival. It was rolling for awhile so I made good time, feeling better than I ever have before at miles 19-24 of a marathon. Another climb followed so I took a couple short walking breaks. Just before the 25 mile mark a man pulled up beside me as I walked and said, “Come on, the finish is almost in sight.” I thought, “Yeah, he's right, I'm just being lazy.” I ran with him and then 10-20 meters behind him for the rest of race, having to weave through the craziness of the Highland Games to get to the finish line. I ended up crossing in 4:14:16. This was my slowest marathon time to date, but I'm happy with it. Now to find the next race... (anyone recommend any ultras in the Carolinas that would fall over my Christmas break?)
However, fate had other plans. During a 21-mile road run, I stepped into a porta-potty on a steep hill. I fell out the door as it toppled over and dislocated my shoulder in the landing. It was a week before I could run again and two weeks before I could do another long run, so I was entering the Grandfather Mountain Marathon somewhat under-trained. As a result, I decided to take it easy in the marathon and not worry about my time. However, in the back of my mind was Nathan's time from the day before (4:08:59) and our friendly contest of who could have the faster time for the weekend.
Grandfather Mountain is billed as tough largely because of the hills. To get an impression of the climbing, here's an elevation chart from mapmyrun.com:
The profile is a little deceptive because the first half was actually harder than the second half. Luckily, I overheard comments like this before the race started and didn't worry myself about walking as early as the first few miles when steep hills lasted several miles with no break in sight. Everyone else around me was also walking from time to time, and I found myself still fresh late in the race and able to pass many folks when the course was more runnable. I was pretty conservative on the downhills, not wanting to trash my quads, but in retrospect I regret that as I finished with no soreness whatsoever in my quads.
The course was almost entirely on asphalt roads which were open to traffic, including traffic to the largest Scottish Highland games in the country, which was where our race finished. Because the roads were so hilly and curvy, they were all banked and there were few opportunities to run on even ground. This caused all my old injuries to rear their heads at least minimally and makes for a course I wouldn't recommend for the injury prone. I've also resolved to move away from my Mizunos entirely as I've been hobbling around with a sore ankle which, after inspection, my dad the doctor says could indicate a stress fracture (I had a similar issue on the bottom of my foot after running a 50K in the Mizunos).
At the halfway mark I had a time of about 2:03, so shooting for Nathan's time was not unreasonable. However, there wasn't much downhill left so it wouldn't be as simple as running even splits. Miles 16-17 were a steep uphill, much of which was on rocky gravel (not the nice dirt road I was expecting) and so by the time I crested that climb, I realized I would have to pick it up a little to beat him. My stomach encouraged me to take it easy: I've grown accustomed to sipping continuously from my handheld water bottle and I found myself leaving each aid station with my stomach hurting from drinking too much water, but still thirsty.
We turned onto the road for the last 9 miles of hugging the side of the road to avoid all the patrons of the Scottish Games making their way to the festival. It was rolling for awhile so I made good time, feeling better than I ever have before at miles 19-24 of a marathon. Another climb followed so I took a couple short walking breaks. Just before the 25 mile mark a man pulled up beside me as I walked and said, “Come on, the finish is almost in sight.” I thought, “Yeah, he's right, I'm just being lazy.” I ran with him and then 10-20 meters behind him for the rest of race, having to weave through the craziness of the Highland Games to get to the finish line. I ended up crossing in 4:14:16. This was my slowest marathon time to date, but I'm happy with it. Now to find the next race... (anyone recommend any ultras in the Carolinas that would fall over my Christmas break?)
-Jordan
Friday, May 28, 2010
The Great Equalizer
Modern mountain bikes run the gamut of price tags. Until last weekend, I thought there would be a direct relationship between how much you pay for your bike and how well it works and how fast you can go. Turns out, no matter how nice the technology, if you cram it full of sticky, wet, North Carolina mud, it all functions the same.
Last weekend we traveled to the Tsali Recreation area near Almond, NC, to race the solo 6 Hours of Tsali. Jordan came as my SAG support, coach, and videographer (see below) with plans to run some of the trails not involved in the race during my laps (she did the Tsali 50k last year in below freezing temperatures). My optimistic goal of 5 laps of the 10 mile course began with a Le Mans style start (everyone runs ¼ mile to their bikes to spread out the field) and immediately entered the world of mud. The night before had seen just enough rain to fill up the omnipresent mud puddles and turn most of the trails into slip-and-slides.
The first lap was fast as riders took chances trying to get a good position in the group: we lost one guy on the first sketchy corner going into the first sketchy descent (great for the nerves). It didn’t take long for both riders and bikes to be covered in a thick layer of mud. The relay riders had time to clean their bikes in between laps, while the solo riders had to grin and bear the complaints from their gunked-up drivetrains.
The second lap went quickly and easily, and then on the third lap, things really hard. The sun came out and dried up portions of the trail, but also raised the temperature. The mud was building up on my bike (and me), I’d fallen a few times (in the same blinkin’ rock garden!) and I started exploring the thought that maybe this just wasn’t my kind of race. Jordan and I are getting married in a month, and I did not want a bunch of pictures from the wedding of me in a tux with a broken collarbone. When I saw Jordan after the third lap, she didn’t let stopping even come up in conversation; she just got me what I needed (promising me a waffle for each lap completed) and sent me back up the trail for one more lap.
The fourth lap proved to be the most interesting. At mile 4, I ran out of water; I’d been polishing off a camelback reservoir on each lap, and the temp was now in the 80s. At mile 4.5, my quads cramped, which is hard to combat without water. And at mile 5, I broke my front brake cable coming off the highest point of the course. I switched to survival mode (thinking of how a sling would look over a tux) and feathered the back break the rest of the way, hoping not to hear another “POP” that would leave me brakeless… After frustrating a few faster riders behind me, I made it to the finish just as they called the cutoff for the six hour event. I’d managed 4 laps for 42.5 miles in 5:25: not stellar, but I was happy with my first attempt at a mountain bike race and that I was still in one piece. The race report a few days later called it a perfect day for a mountain bike race, and I guess I’d have to agree. Now to clean the rest of the Great Equalizer off my gear…
Last weekend we traveled to the Tsali Recreation area near Almond, NC, to race the solo 6 Hours of Tsali. Jordan came as my SAG support, coach, and videographer (see below) with plans to run some of the trails not involved in the race during my laps (she did the Tsali 50k last year in below freezing temperatures). My optimistic goal of 5 laps of the 10 mile course began with a Le Mans style start (everyone runs ¼ mile to their bikes to spread out the field) and immediately entered the world of mud. The night before had seen just enough rain to fill up the omnipresent mud puddles and turn most of the trails into slip-and-slides.
The first lap was fast as riders took chances trying to get a good position in the group: we lost one guy on the first sketchy corner going into the first sketchy descent (great for the nerves). It didn’t take long for both riders and bikes to be covered in a thick layer of mud. The relay riders had time to clean their bikes in between laps, while the solo riders had to grin and bear the complaints from their gunked-up drivetrains.
The second lap went quickly and easily, and then on the third lap, things really hard. The sun came out and dried up portions of the trail, but also raised the temperature. The mud was building up on my bike (and me), I’d fallen a few times (in the same blinkin’ rock garden!) and I started exploring the thought that maybe this just wasn’t my kind of race. Jordan and I are getting married in a month, and I did not want a bunch of pictures from the wedding of me in a tux with a broken collarbone. When I saw Jordan after the third lap, she didn’t let stopping even come up in conversation; she just got me what I needed (promising me a waffle for each lap completed) and sent me back up the trail for one more lap.
The fourth lap proved to be the most interesting. At mile 4, I ran out of water; I’d been polishing off a camelback reservoir on each lap, and the temp was now in the 80s. At mile 4.5, my quads cramped, which is hard to combat without water. And at mile 5, I broke my front brake cable coming off the highest point of the course. I switched to survival mode (thinking of how a sling would look over a tux) and feathered the back break the rest of the way, hoping not to hear another “POP” that would leave me brakeless… After frustrating a few faster riders behind me, I made it to the finish just as they called the cutoff for the six hour event. I’d managed 4 laps for 42.5 miles in 5:25: not stellar, but I was happy with my first attempt at a mountain bike race and that I was still in one piece. The race report a few days later called it a perfect day for a mountain bike race, and I guess I’d have to agree. Now to clean the rest of the Great Equalizer off my gear…
Monday, April 19, 2010
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