Quickly, as we're on our way out to the awards banquet right now...WE WON the open mixed category, Tamsin and I are 2009 Trans Rockies Champions, and with that comes $3500 USD! Time to get the beers flowing...more to come in a few days but if I had to do a quick cap right now I'd say this was an INCREDIBLE week of running and that I absolutely fell in love with this organization and running terrain! Colorado has been amazing and Trans Rockies is one dialed in race...stories to follow.
Wow, I simply can not believe we're into the back half of August already and that Trans Rockies is just days away! I really do feel like I've had one of the best years of my life so far and it just keeps getting better and better!
Tonight I'm off to see 'Silversun Pickups' at The Commodore (I had this song stuck in my head for the majority of Western States), this past Sat I had the pleasure of checking out 'Kings Of Leon' at G.M. Place, (Big thanks to Bryan Tasaka of The MOMAR for making this happen!) and on Sunday morning I found yet another reason to do 'The Dance Of Joy' (anyone else remember this?), I learned of my accepted entrance into the famed 100 miler known as H.U.R.T. Hawaii...yes, I'm finally off to Hawaii for the first time in my life!! That's not till mid January though so back to the task at hand...
Wed night Tamsin and I head to Vernon B.C. to meet up with fellow Montrail team runner Aaron Heidt, and then on Thursday morning we hit the open road for The American Rockies!!
Trans Rockies starts on Sunday morning and goes for six straight days, here's the deets:
This year from August 23-28, up to 150 teams of two will take on the Colorado Rockies for a running experience like no other. During the six days of the GORE-TEX™ TransRockies Run, runners from all over the world will run, eat and live together as they cover 113 miles of spectacular scenery, fully supported by a dedicated and professional Event Team who will look after all aspects of their food, accommodations and on-course support.
The GORE-TEX™ TransRockies Run course runs from Buena Vista to Beaver Creek, through the heart of the White River and San Isabel National Forests. The course includes a mix of singletrack and forest road with nearly 25,000 feet of elevation gain, reaching altitudes of over 12,500 ft.
The latest edition of Get Out There Magazine is now available online and they were nice enough to let me write an article about Vancouver Island's 47km Juan De Fuca Trail, check it out, pages 38-39.
I just had to take a quick second to say that apparently there is another Gary Robbins out there who is at least somewhat involved in the endurance world. I recently received an e-mail from the co-race director of the epic bike journey that is known as The 'Tour Divide', which is basically a self supported 4400km mountain bike journey from Banff to New Mexico!!
This 'alternate G.R.' and I have very differing opinions on the subjects he posted on, pardon me for saying so, but some of his comments were truly ridiculous and I just want to be sure that I am not associated with these whatsoever!
Oh and in case you were wondering, yeah this race has most certainly be added to my ever growing 'To Do' list!
I realize that I haven't really 'written' much over the last little bit and I guess that's cause I've been too busy trying to enjoy this incredible summer we've had here on The West Coast! Having experienced virtually no rain fall since early to mid May, B.C. was on the verge of seeing its entire trail network closed off to the public, due to the escalating wildfire problems. As of last week they were investing three million dollars a day just trying to keep the problem at bay! With this in mind, I prayed for some rain to fall...it just happened to do so over the weekend. My Trans Rockies racing partner Tamsin and I headed up to Squamish last night to get an early start this morning at a peak named 'Ossa Mountain'. Conveniently enough you can camp just 2.5km from the trail head, for free! After a quick stop at a friends place to watch UFC 101, we set up camp late and called it a night.
The weather today actually cooperated for the most part, granting us a ceiling of about 5,000 feet. Unfortunately we were hoping to get to 7500 feet and in the end we were forced to turn back before before we even hit the final ridgeline to the summit. Starting from sea level however still left us with a solid day out in the mountains and some worked legs once it was all said and done. Thirty kms of tough terrain and seven and a half hours will do that I guess. Funny story is that while Tamsin was flipping through my 'Scrambles In South Western B.C. Book' she looked at me and asked,
"So, did you purposely choose the mountain with the largest total elevation gain in the entire book?!"
Of which I had no idea! (Upon referencing the books it's actually only the second largest total climb without a necessary overnight hut stay)
"Umm, no. Guess I just got lucky with that!"
The highlight of the day was while hanging out at a small glacier we heard a massive rock slide coming down from above...and by highlight I mean totally freaked out adrenaline rush! We were nowhere near the 'danger zone' and I think it sounded far worse than it actually was, but either way, you end up feeling very small and insignificant during moments like that. Which is actually a very good thing to be reminded of from time to time! I guess since Trans is just thirteen days away that puts us into the 'taper time' again...and I was just starting to find my groove post Western States. Oh well, time to bottle up some energy and save it for The Rockies of Colorado...I CAN'T WAIT! I've never been and it promises to be an incredible ten day journey from door-door, six of which we will be running our asses off! Which I guess means Roxy will get a well deserved break from all the mileage as of late:)
The Stormy 50 and 100 miler happens this weekend, and unfortunately, as is the case most years, they are desperate for volunteers to help make this race happen. Personally I'll be stuck at work till 7pm on Friday and back in again at 9:30am on Sat, so I figure the least I can do is throw this out there and hope that one or two people might be able to step up and help out for a few hours. If you might be free to do so please drop me a line and I'll get you into contact with R.D. Wendy Montgomery. There are also numerous runners who are hoping to link up with a pacer for the race. Again, if you might be able to help out, please lemme know and I'll get you into contact with a few of the ladies looking for assistance.
Rumor has it that recent 'Sinister Seven' winner Chris GT Downie is gonna be shooting for the 100m course record of 17h39m. I honestly think that Stormy is runnable in under 16hr, especially given that the start time has now been bumped back to 10am instead of the previous time of noon. Getting an additional 2hr of daylight will be a huge benefit to runners, and if I were fortunate enough to be racing it this year that's what I'd be shooting for. Instead, I'll be heading to Colorado in just a few more weeks time to tackle the Trans Rockies with teammate Tamsin Anstey. CAN'T WAIT!!
BEST OF LUCK TO ALL STORMY RUNNERS THIS WEEKEND, I wish I could be there with ya!
It's been a crazy-awesome week, yes I just said that, crazy-awesome! Starting with last Wednesday's Sahale Peak adventure run, I was able to follow up by running the absolutely gorgeous Howe Sound Crest Trail on Sunday, then I took off to Manning Park B.C. for two fun filled days of mountain running on Tues and Wed this week, just getting back a few short hours ago. In the last eight days I've managed to string together some of the most beautiful runs to be had within a 4hr radius of North Vancouver. There's still plenty more out there, but all in all it's be a great week!
Here's a quick photo tour of The Howe Sound Crest Trail. It's a point to point 30-35km mountain run. My GPS says 30km, some books say 35km, either way it's a fun filled day of tough mountain running. The quick cap is that it has over 6,000 feet of climbing and 9,000 feet of descent. You can also add a bit o climbing to that if you scramble up 'The West Lion', which is of course a must do on the route! I ran the trail with my Trans Rockies teammate Tamsin Anstey and my Montrail-Mountain Hardwear teammate Ryne Melcher. We were fortunate enough to cross paths with six friends from North Van who were also out out enjoying the perfect July day...with temps up into the mid 30's!
More to come on Manning Park in the next few days. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the shots from The HSCT.
Oh, and here's a quick 20sec vid of my trip to the U.S. yesterday as well...
Recapping the great mtn run that was Sahale Peak. Crossing paths with a deer, a hoary marmot or two, a family of mountain goats with a baby in tow, a grouse, and then traversing a glacier, while also managing to squeeze in a view or two along the way. It's a beautiful and highly recommended area to check out!
Funny side story, I'm on my way back down the mountain, feeling like I'm in heaven and effortlessly flying through the panoramic scenery when I pass a young couple hiking up,
"GARY ROBBINS!!"
"Huh? Did you just say my name?"
Keep in mind that I'm in a new area that I've never visited before about 350km from my doorstep. Turns out I was looking at a guy by the name of Jove Graham, who's name I recognize from a few ultra runs in the last few years including Diez Vista and Orcas Island, but we'd never officially met. Jove said he saw a runner bombing down the mountain and knew it could only be a handful of people...my Montrail gear might have tipped him off as well. We had a great ten minute chat before departing ways. Gotta love the tight knit fabric of the ultra running scene!
We just had an epic lightning storm in North Van tonight. I've seen bigger but never in this area. It's rare that we get anything and even as I type this it still echoes off in the distance! As long as we don't get any back country forest fires started it will go down as a cool night.
Got outta town today, drove South into The North Cascade Mountains of Washington and ran/scrambled to the top of Sahale Peak. It was truly a perfect day and an epic run! 5100 feet of elevation gain, with a class 4-5 scramble to the summit of just under 9,000 feet. 14m / 23km return in 3h19m...and eight hours of driving...but sooo worth it!!
As if I didn`t struggle enough to recover from the thrashing that was Western States, I ended up racing what I would consider to be Canada`s toughest 50k trail race just two weeks after the fact. This `double` has been pulled off by many a B.C. ultra runner, and most have fared very well with this two week time line. Me however, I really struggled to get back to good after WS. My quads had never been torched like that before and just a few days before the race I thought there was simply no way I could knock down a 50k with close close to 9,000 feet of descent involved! The Knee Knacker is a lottery set up though, and after being shut out in 08 there was simply no way I could forgo the race in 09. My race was a bit backwards for me though as I felt great on the climbs and terrible on the descents. I ended up focusing all of my energy into the numerous lengthy ascents, and basically tippy toed down each successive fall line. (I should mention that this is heading into the half way aid station, and pretty much the only pavement on the entire course with it being 99% singletrack!)
At 2h15m my legs locked up solid and I was left wondering what the hell I was thinking by attempting a race while my body was still so disgusted with me. Thankfully my Carbo-Pro 1200 and Thermolytes kept me going and held the cramps at bay for the remainder of the course.
I was fortunate enough to be running around someone I had met through adventure racing. Chad Ulansky and I spent the better part of the race together and as he crested the final large climb in the race, about 300 meters ahead of me, and with under 25min to the finish line, I verbally told myself that I had to suck it up and push hard. I managed to sneak past Chad and snag 4th overall in a time of 5h22m. I am VERY HAPPY with that result, all things considered! In the end Montrail runners won both the men`s and women`s races with Aaron Heidt ripping the course a new a-hole and breaking the long standing course record by almost three full minutes to pull in with a time of 4h39m. Ellie Greenwood ran the fourth fastest women`s race of all time to snag her own victory in 5h35m!
It was a great day to be out on what I consider to be many of my favorite local trails. Good times were had by all, both literally and figuratively as many runners had very impressive P.R.`s CONGRATS to EVERYONE who was a part of the race this year, it`s a huge accomplishment to even attempt to do a race of this magnitude!
The round up banquet was fun, topped off by a marriage proposal...and acceptance, congrats to Bill and Jess!
Personally I can`t wait to hopefully squeeze my way into both the WS and KK lotteries so that I can do it all over again next summer!!
Thanks to all involved with The Knee Knacker, you put on an incredible event, time and time again!
Here it is, finally, my 2009 Tour De France race report...err, umm, oh yeah, Western States race report...has it really been almost two weeks already!
The Drive Down took us almost two full days, including one stop in ummm, I can't even remember where we spent the first night? Somewhere south of Portland. We smuggled Melcher into the hotel room to save on the additional $3 charge for a third person, which would of course be added to the post race beer fund! Second night was spent in Reno, "The Biggest Little City In The World", mainly due to cheap accommodation. Something about this place just made my skin crawl though. Must have been the people becoming one with the of slot machines, while chain smoking indoors, for hours and hours on end. I swear I passed the same lady on my way to bed that night and again in the exact same position nine hours later as we checked out! We arrived in Squaw Valley on the Thursday and myself, Luke, and Ryne decided to head up the ski hill 'escarpment' to check out the terrain. I had not been at an elevation over 8,000 feet in quite a few years and was amazed at how great I felt. (topped out at almost 9,000 feet) I scrambled up a small rock outcrop and spent a meditative like thirty minutes alone on top. Luke has not spent any real time at elevation and I effectively dropped one of my pacers during a warm up run. Luckily Luke would not have to worry about elevation as he was to pace me from Greengate. In the end he wouldn't really have to worry about running either... The temps in Squaw were nothing shocking at all, however the apparent forecast was basically calling for it to warm by the hour until the 5am start time on Saturday, and the last report I heard was 106F at the start and upwards of 115+F in the canyons! Just one week prior the highs were just 85F! Looked like they had timed it 'perfectly' yet again! The day before the race just happened to be my Dad's B.Day, and being the incredibly selfless person that he is he did not mention it to a soul and actually thought I'd be too busy planning for my race to remember the momentus occasion. He is getting old after all...probably only has about 30 or 40 of these things left in him! We surprised him with a choc cake, b.day card, and brand new pair of Montrail Streaks...now he was really ready to crew for the big event!!
I was absolutely amazed that I managed a few hours of sleep the night before the race and I awoke fairly refreshed at 2:15am. I immediately started pumping food into myself and somehow downed three large bowls of quinoa and a few bananas before we departed for the race start at 3:30am. The race was to start at 5am and at 4:55am I was still sitting in the bathroom.
"ROBBINS, LET'S GO, THE DAMN RACE IS GONNA START WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!!"
"Hold on already, it's either here or on the course!"
I ran outta the building to see the official race clock counting down from just 2m32s. Still lotsa time to spare! It gave me little to no time to actually get nervous and I screamed as loud as I could with about thirty seconds to go. Six months of specific training and almost a year of dreaming about Western States were about to come to be put to the test...
"GO"
I intended to approach the initial climb with a high-med pace, trying not to push myself too hard, yet hoping to keep the overall lead pack within sight. After about two minutes I found myself somewhere around 15th place...but then I saw Scott Jurek heading straight back towards me!!
"WRONG WAY"
"WHAT!" Followed by a laugh...at least it wasn't me making the wrong turn this time! There were about twenty of us who had followed and we now found ourselves picking our way back through the main pack. The joke would later be that Scott intentionally took us a few minutes off course so as to help protect his course record from a few years back:)
As we approached the top of the climb it filtered us into a steep non-runnable hiking pitch. I didn't really care where I sat in terms of overall placement at that point in time so I stopped for a few seconds to take it all in. I swivelled around so as to take in the full effect of what was transpiring beneath. There were over 400 runners strewn out on the twisting trail below, and a blazing sun was just cresting the horizon behind us. We were already over 8,000 feet up and the vantage point was laced with a jagged skyline of the surrounding mountains. The massive Lake Tahoe glistened in the orange hue that was devouring the peaks behind it. It was an incredible sight, and for me at least, images like this stand alone as the definition of why I love the sport so much. I threw my arms up and let out a short but loud scream of joy before turning back around and fully focusing on the task ahead...only 97 more miles to go...
I crested the 'escarpment' in 47min and was somewhere around 9th overall. The trail then proceeded to twist its way along the ridgeline as it continually lost elevation for about eight miles. I live on singletrack. I live for singletrack. It is all I know, it is everything I know. I run virtually nothing else, so although surprising to me at the time, maybe it shouldn't have been. I was running my personal pace on this terrain. My 'I'm only 5 miles into a 100 miler' pace, yet I was catching and passing the runners in front of me, and no one was coming along for the ride. In an effort to ensure that I was running my race and not trying to chase any of the top guys in front of me I refused any split times as I hit the aid stations along the way. I ran the next few hours completely solo, but I was quite alright with it. The 'high country' trails were absolutely incredible and I spent more time taking in the scenery around me then I did looking at the actual terrain in front of me.
I have only run one other 100 miler. I did quite well with it on all fronts except having to take bathroom breaks. In my one previous experience with the 100m distance I ended up having 16 bowel movements on course...sorry to include those details but unfortunately they are pertinent, it was basically one an hour for the entire race! I was very happy when I managed to hit the 2hr mark of WS feeling great and without issue, this was already 30min longer than I had made it in my first 100m race. At 2h20m however, it happened. I hoped it was a one off and tried not to think about it. That did nothing to help though and yet again I found myself being able to time out the miles almost perfectly between my bathroom breaks. Every hour, on the hour...again. In hindsight, I think I have simply tried too hard to load food the morning of the race, a lesson learned so that hopefully I won't have to deal with it again in the future. Eventually at the Duncan Canyon aid station someone threw a split at me as I was approaching. "You Are In Fourth Place. Scott Jurek Is Three Minutes Ahead!"
"I thought I was in 5th...did you just say SCOTT JUREK!!" (the seven time undefeated champ who was returning after a few years hiatus)
What do you do when you catch up to Scott Jurek in Western States?? It's the equivalent of catching Lance Armstrong in The Tour.
"Oh hi Lance. Me, I'm Gary Robbins, nice to meet you to! Would you mind signing my jersey for me? Oh I guess you're right, probably better to wait till after this stage finishes. Ok then, have fun with your team Astana, I'll be just up ahead if you're looking for me."
I didn't want to have that conversation this early in the race and it was obvious to me that I could ease off a bit and conserve some more energy. I brought it back a notch and was happy to get the next split at closer to six minutes. I think I freaked out my crew a bit when I saw them for the first time at 'Robinson Flat' (Mile 29.7) and I was in 4th place just a few minutes back of Jurek. I wasn't worried about trying to catch the leaders and I spent the necessary time in transition getting food into me and ensuring I was fully stocked for the next 26 miles until I saw them again. My food allergies leave me with very few items I can utilize at aid stations, outside of fruit, so I end up carrying a few extra supplies and hitting up all the drop bag locations. I started to leave transition, then realized that I'd forgotten the most important thing...a hug from my Dad! He'd never seen me race before and had flown out from Newfoundland to join me for the entire experience. I could certainly spare four additional seconds to show him how much it meant to have him along...and then I was off and running again.
I wasn't even up the first hill after Robinson before I spotted two runners coming up behind. No use running solo if I can pair off with a few guys. I quickly met Jasper Halekas and Leigh Schmitt, and we all proceeded into the next descent together. We were all very aware of the fact that the race had yet to even begin and openly joked about how statistically there was very little chance that the three of us would arrive in Auburn still in the top ten together. I was enjoying running with these guys, leading through the descent and feeling strong...then it happened, my damn insides needed out again. I pulled off to the side of the trail for my fifth time in five hours. By the time I got back onto the trail Jasper and Leigh were long gone. I fell into my own solo rhythm again and just tried to continue at a smart pace.
Shortly after this the top ranked Japanese runner Tsuyoshi Kaburagi started to close in on me. I knew of this guy from his result at The North Face 50m Championships in San Fran last December. He finished 3rd overall, but more impressive to me was that I had been told that he was closing in fast on the top two guys, Carpenter and Steidl, and basically ran out of race course. Anyone who can close a gap on those two trail legends is a pretty talented and smart runner...and even more impressive still is that the dude is forty years old! In my personal pre-race picks I had slotted Kaburagi into fourth overall. I recognized and approached him the day before the race to wish him luck, but he speaks absolutely zero English. My pacer/crew Luke and Emily had lived in Japan for an extended period and I sent Luke up to him to wish him luck in his native tongue. I told Luke that if I were fortunate enough to find myself around him during the race I'd most certainly pace off of him for as long as was smart. It was once again nice to have someone to run with, even if we could not share in any conversation.
Kaburagi and I hit the next few aid stations in sync, and I ran with him for over an hour and a half, even when I was once again forced into taking my sixth 'trail break'. I silently tried to sneak off but he heard me duck into the bushes, peered over his shoulder to confirm, and then put in a push to gap me. I was sick of loosing runners due to my stomach issues and I put in a push myself to catch back up. Thankfully we were into a lengthy descent and I managed to do so without a major effort. We hit 'Miller's Defeat', 'Dusty Corners', 'Last Chance', and 'Deadwood Canyon' together, even catching and passing Scott Jurek along the way. I briefly spoke with Scott and he said that he felt his fitness was there but his heart was not fully into it due to personal reasons. I could tell at that moment that his day was done and figured he'd be hitting the sidelines within a few aid stations. It's always unfortunate to see such a great competitor fall to the wayside and I sincerely hope he decides to tackle WS at least one more time. The Canyons, Where The Race Begins...
In the climb up to 'Devil's Thumb' Kaburagi put five minutes into me, but on the descent back down into 'El Dorado Creek' I took back three of those back to sit just two minutes behind him. I spent a few minutes at this aid station topping up on food and fluids, and joking with the volunteers. Up until this point, which was mile 52.9 I had felt strong and was liking where I had positioned myself. In a conversation with fellow Montrail runner, and two time runner up, Erik Skaden two days before the race began, I listened intently to his suggestions and offerings on how to properly tackle the WS course. What I took away most was his belief that carrying an extra bottle, just to cool yourself off with, was pertinent to success in the heat. I was racing with two handheld bottles and a backpack carrying 1.5LT of fluids. One bottle had been used exclusively for pouring over my head as I ran, and I dipped my hat into every single stain of water that I could locate during the run. I even stuffed my shorts full of ice at one point...but thaaat lasted all of ten seconds before I emptied them out again! I felt there was little else I could have done during the race itself to prevent my system from crumbling under the pressure of the ever climbing mercury.
The seven switchback 2,000 foot climb from 'El Dorado' to 'Michigan Bluff' was where I finally started to feel the heat beating down on me. I continued to douse myself in water every time there was a break in the canopy that exposed my body to the fireball above, but my energy seemed to be waning by the second. Eventually Kevin Sullivan caught and passed me and I would hit the aid station just behind Jez Bragg and Zach Miller.
In less than three miles I had gone from upbeat and strong to being completely unable to even fake a sense of joy at seeing my crew again. I was starting to truly suffer for the first time all day and it showed in my terrible transition time of seven full minutes! I departed in eighth place, yet was feeling somewhat better after my lengthy break. It would be 7.5 miles before I would see and finally get to run with my first pacer and good friend Ryne Melcher.
The website lost my time for this section but I hit 'Bath Road' in 9th and happy to have someone to run with me for the rest of the course. However, for the very first time in an ultra run, I was dealing with blisters on my feet! I had no idea why or how this was happening at the time, but in hindsight my feet were quite wet from all the water I continually poured over my head, and the fine sand/dirt from the course was starting to get into my socks. I have dealt with blisters through expedition adventure racing though and through my own personal experience I have had greater success ignoring them until the pain subsides, generally about 20min, verses paying attention to them and 'making them feel special'. I decided I would not speak of them to my crew or my pacer. To admit they were there would only validate the pain and hence make them hurt even more. As scheduled, 20min and I virtually forgot about them.
When we hit 'Foresthill' at mile 62/km 100 I had already taken nine bathroom breaks. I once again had a lengthy stop. I hated how much time I was throwing away by doing this but my socks needed changing and I had to concentrate on keeping my food and fluids up. I could see three blood blisters on my toes while changing my socks but no one on my crew noticed so the conversation was not initiated. I was passed by Erik Skaden to sit in 10th and Ryne and I set off to conquer the final 38 miles of the course together...only 60km left to go!
In the next 16 miles/25km the trail drops 2500 feet until you hit the 'Rucky Chucky' river crossing. My blisters were killing me and at one point I looked down to see four very distinct patches of blood on my shoes. To make matters worse the heat was finally getting the better of me and although I was able to run to each sequential aid station, Dardanelles-Peachstone-Ford's Bar, I was forced to spend far too much time at each of them concentrating upon my food and fluids. I was consuming while on the run, but as I hit each of these aid stations I was doing so while having trouble stabilizing myself. I would enter an aid station, telling Melcher that I was dizzy and needed him to keep an eye on me. We'd chat up the volleys and crack some jokes. They'd eventually say they were going to have to kick me out if I did not get moving, and I would take mental stock as to if I was currently coordinated enough to successfully put one foot in front of the other. We repeated this for the entire 16 miles with the one high point being that we caught and passed Dave Mackey! I've never met the guy personally but I truly felt for him as we passed because as much as I was suffering at that point in time, Dave seemed to be in a whole other world. We knew he'd be dropping before the finish line. Another of the pre race favorites was effectively done!
As we approached the river I shoulder checked to see a few runner's catching me. Andy Jones-Wilkens (AJW) and Eric Grossman both hit the water along with me. I turned to Andy, since he is a consistent top ten finisher like no other, and said,
"I Was Wondering When You'd Show Up!" (Photo credit, Glenn Tachiyama)
I had fully anticipated that hitting the water would rejuvinate me. I envisioned my legs getting a second life after the lactic acid was flushed back into my core, and thought my body would cool several degrees in a matter of minutes...I could not have been more wrong!
As I exited the water just a few hundred meters later I struggled to walk straight. I could practically feel my own eyeballs straining to find my equilibrium. My stomach felt like it was going to shoot out of my mouth and my legs were all of a sudden the most foreign part of my own body. I made it to a chair...and sat down for the very first time in an ultra run.
I'm not sure how long I sat there for, at least five minutes, maybe ten. I could still talk and joke with people just fine, but my body was a mess. I was struggling with what I already knew...my race was over.
Ryne knows my running as well as anyone and he kept insisting that I would recover from this and still be able to close out strong like I so often can. I had only dropped a few spots and in reality if my legs would come back to life I could still take a shot at top ten...but I knew otherwise. I had not felt my body shut down like this before. It was a two mile uphill hike to the next aid station at 'Greengate'. My Dad was there, and I needed to see him. It took an eternity to get there, but at least I was still moving. (Photo credit, Glenn Tachiyama) And So Begins The Western States Death March...
At Greengate I got a big hug from my Dad again, and there were other running friends there cheering people on as well, Matt Hart and Devon Crosby-Helms to name a few. I had spent the last two miles in a mental turmoil the likes of which I have not faced before in an ultra run. My legs were shot. I knew they were not going to allow me to run another step. There was still over 20m/30km to go until the finish line. Guys were dropping like flies and the list of DNF's was a who's who within the sport. I had originally set out to try and nail a top five finish. Top ten was my secondary goal. I hadn't really thought beyond that. I knew where my fitness was and felt I would be there without question. I was now in a very different situation than what I had prepared myself for mentally heading into Western. What was my 'third tier' goal? To finish the damn race I thought to myself! I glanced at my watch. I had taken 14.5hr to cover 130km...I still had 9.5hr to cover the final 30km and claim a highly coveted 'sub 24hr' Western States Silver Belt Buckle. My legs worked, not by my standard definition but they were still allowing me to propel my body forward. My stomach had shut down and I could not get any food into me. I wanted nothing more than to lay down and pass out. I legitimately thought I might puke if I continued to move. It was almost eight o'clock at night and it was still 100 f'in degrees outside. I wanted OUT of the damn heat more than anything...but my legs still worked. There was absolutely zero legitimate reasons to quit at this point. I put a mix of P.B. and Jam into a cup, strapped on my Princeton Tec Apex headlamp, grabbed my second pacer and best bud Luke Laga...and proceeded to walk backwards down the first descent out of the transition...my quads would not allow me to even attempt to walk it forwards...but I was moving dammit...and I had a full 9.5hr to cover that last 32km to the finish line.
It was everything I had in me to even sustain the necessary 4km an hour to make the 24hr cut off. My initial math told me I needed 5km and hour, a very typical hiking pace. Thankfully I was wrong on my math cause I just could not hold 5km an hour at that point in time. I felt EVERY SINGLE step, every last one of them. There was not a single footprint made by me in the final twenty miles that I did not suffer through.
As the night darkened around us Luke and I traded some of our favorite stories we had accumulated together over the years. From our time in Honduras as Dive Masters, to him surprising me at my first ever 50km ultra here in B.C. in 2005, to me helping him and Emily conquer their first every adventure race while dressed up as The Incredibles, to my pacing Luke at his first ever 100 miler, the Kettle Moraine in 2008, there was no shortage of favorite tales to tell and the time evaporated nicely.
Consistent time checks told me that as long as we kept doing what we were doing, I'd make it to the Place High School Track to claim a belt buckle. Then it happened, I stopped to take a pee break.
"LUKE!!!" "HOLY CRAP, Your Urine Is COPPER Color!"
It wasn't dehydration, it was my kidneys shutting down on me. I had learned of this through Ryne Melcher in 2008 when he was forced to drop out of a 100 miler for the same reason. Yeah I could fight the pain I felt in every inch of my body right then and there, but if internal organs were shutting down I couldn't risk my own long term health for a simple finish line. It was the first time all day that I thought I might not finish the race.
"Luke, that means my kidneys are shutting down!"
He didn't know what to say. So I followed up with,
"Ok, we need to start pumping just water into my system. We'll judge it on my next pee break."
and with that the slowest hike of my life continued. The last thing I wanted was a DNF. I have never DNF'ed an ultra and my only racing DNF's are based around medical inabilities to continue after bike crashes (contused quad, hematoma on groin) or critical gear failure (kayak issues). In fact I've finished two 'Sea To Summit' adventure races where I split my leg open for necessary stitches with half a race to go, checking into the hospital after crossing the finish line. I can deal with the pain, but the mental struggle of wondering what was going on internally was killing me.
"I'VE GOTTA PEE!!"
"Ok, I'm here, go ahead."
Yup, just one more job a good pacer has to perform, analyzing his runner's urine!
"It...looks...bet-ter...right?"
"Umm, suuure. It was most certainly less of a copper color than the last one...I think."
"Ok, that's good. That's good. Let's just keep doing what we're doing!"
Eventually I did end up taking semi-regular pee breaks and although minimal, the improvements in discoloration were enough to convince us that we could continue on with our hike from hell.
The only other recluse from the torture that was walking came in the form of the WS aid stations. On more than one occasion I was left wondering if I was hallucinating, only to confirm that Luke was seeing the same thing I was. From patio lights strung out hundreds of meters deep into what appeared to be an open forest, to blaring music, to guys wearing red dresses, and even a whole crew of people singing 'O Canada' at one point, it was all a bit surreal at times! This, combined with Luke's company, the desire to get a stupid belt buckle, and the knowledge that my Dad had flown all this way to see what my 'racing' was all about, were all the kept me going. It's a funny thing though, and kinda literally, if you can keep a light hearted attitude, fake a smile from time to time, lie to yourself about how you truly are feeling, and try to find some humor in the grand scheme of it all, the pain will never win out. Call it what you will, mind over matter, a refusal to quit, or simply ensuring that no matter how bad it may seem, no matter how far the chips may have fallen off the table, you never loose your ability to smile, to laugh, and to keep it all in perspective...this is after all, a self imposed journey of suffering.
Throughout all of this I was still keeping my thoughts and conversations exclusive to actually thinking about the finish line. I was not allowed that luxury just yet. That all changed when we hit Highway 49, at 93.5 miles/150.5km. Another hug from my Father, the look of pride in his eyes as he watched me hobble step by step over the final distance of this course, the knowledge that in just 5.4 more miles I'd get to walk hand in hand with him for just over one mile to The Place High School Track and the end of my self imposed torture. This combined with the fact that I had positioned myself with just over 3.5hr to accomplish this goal had finally allowed me to accept there were no other options now, I was going to get myself a Silver Belt Buckle!!
Getting the body to move again after a ten minute eating break at Hwy 49 was no easy task. My blisters had awoken with a fury as they tried one last time to halt my forward progress and I hobbled out of the flood lit aid station and back into night lit only by my Apex headlamp. The trail after Hwy 49 drops away for over three miles until hitting 'No Hands Bridge' at 96.8m/156km. The downhills were what hurt the most and this section would end up being the most painful of the entire day. I had to walk backwards, sideways and every which way but forward. I kinda walked like a super slow motion Tasmanian Devil...and with 1/10 the energy and 1/100th the excitement! The End Is In Sight!
From 'No Hands Bridge' to the finish was only 4km, mostly flat with one 'decent at that point in the race' climb. The uphills were my 'strength' at this point. I could actually hold a slightly faster than completely stationary pace, albeit while feeling my heal blisters with each and every step. I used the adrenaline from this pain to pump through this section so as to end my misery as quickly as was possible. At 'Robie Point' with but 2km to the finish line we were all reunited again. Ryne Melcher, my Montrail teammate, bestest training partner, and incredible friend out of North Vancouver. Luke Laga, who had now hiked through the night with me for almost eight hours without running a single step. He who had flown out from Wisconsin on his own his own dime just to be a part of it all, and to help ensure success for me along the way. And of course my Dad, who was initially concerned he would not be able to keep up with me for the final few hundred meters around the finishing track, were all hand in hand. The pavement hurt, but no more or less than everything else I had dealt with over the last 20+ miles to get here.
We could see the track, the lights, the crowds...we were about to put to rest what would be one of my greatest personal triumphs. I did not, for a single second, contemplate dropping out...and now I was here, fulfilling my initial goal from a full year prior. I had qualified for WS by flying to Wisconsin in November, I held practically singular focus towards the race for over six months, managed to piece together one of the greatest and most selfless crews a guy could ever dream of, and as a group, we were about to collect a singular belt buckle for one individual. I am forever indebted to each of them for helping me to achieve this solitary objective.
I had dreamed of how I would cross the line at WS for months on end, mentally envisioning how it would all go down, where I would be in the overall pack, and how I would celebrate once I rounded the track at Placer High. This was NOT how I had envisioned my finishing of the 2009 Western States 100 miler...it was, in all honesty, far better than I could have ever could have imagined. I was done. By every possible definition of that word, in every single language upon this planet. I was done. WE had reached our collective goal. Mission accomplished.
Thanks so much to everyone who entered, and to all for the overwhelming support throughout my Western States experience! I apologize that my race report has not yet been written or posted but my Dad is only here until Tues night...and in all honesty, I'd much rather be spending time with him right now then sitting in front of a computer blogging! The recap is already written in my head and will be posted by mid next week for sure. Thanks for your patience:)
Well so much for my pipe dream of this being a 'cooler' year for Western States. The latest forecast is for it to jump up an additional 15 degrees tomorrow and to hit 103f by Saturday! That should push the canyon temps up over 115 and will basically ensure a much slower winning time than normal. I spoke with Erik Skaden at 'The Montrail House' earlier. He has finished 2nd the previous two years and his take is that the winning time will be over 17hr for sure and maybe up towards 17.5. It was fun to pick his brain a bit and to drink a few beers with the rest of the Montrail U.S. running team.
Oh yeah, before I forget, thanks so much for all the comments on the Princeton Tec giveaway, it's awesome and as promised I'll do the draw in a few days time. Still about 30hr to get your name in on it if you haven't already. Just scroll down to the next posting.
If you are looking to follow along live as all the action unfolds at 5am on Saturday, here are the easiest ways to do so:
-Right here on my blog you may have noticed a new twitter update bar just to the right. You can scroll through these updates by clicking on the arrows and anything in orange links to a pic or a website. My crew will be doing live updates throughout the day, including pics and text as to how I'm really doing out there!
-My twitter page, although as mentioned you can find all the info right here if you prefer
-Matt Hart will also be twittering and videoing throughout the day. You can find his twitter links on his blog (you have to scroll down about half way to find them), or his twitter page
And with that, I'm out, it's after midnight and I won't be getting much sleep tomorrow night!
With Western States just days away it's time to give my light sponsor, Princeton Tec some well deserved love!
During Stormy last year I used my Apex light for the night section, which due to a noon start time was the entire second 50 mile lap, and I also carried along an Impact XL to help with the low level lighting. This combo allowed me to charge through the very technical sections of the race without issue. I am honestly amazed at how many runners in these 100 mile and overnight running races seem satisfied with a small 'AAA' battery type light. The argument of weight is always brought up and all I have to say to them is this:
-You can't even feel the weight of the 'AAAA' Apex upon your head, and if you want to 'jog' trails at night with your low beam lights on, I'll gladly continue my 'running' with my high beam lights shining brightly upon the trail! You CAN NOT RUN what you CAN NOT SEE, and whether you choose the Apex or another equivalent, a 'AAA' light just does not even compare!
At just 279 grams and sporting a THREE WATT Maxbright LED, along with FOUR ULTRABRIGHT LEDs, you won't find a better light for under 100 bucks!
For Western States I'll be rocking the Apex and Amp 4 combo...although with a 5am starting time I'll be doing everything in my power to limit exactly how much nighttime running I need to tackle for this one:)
Funny side story here, I was out on a night run about a month back and came across a night rescue up on Grouse Mountain. The local North Shore Search And Rescue Team were out in full effect, and decked out from head to toe...and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM was sporting the Princeton Tec Apex as they were dragging an injured hiker down the mtn...and NO they are not sponsored by P.T.!
Anyways, here's your shot winning one of my favorite lights of all time, and I'll even give you the choice of going with the straight up
All you have to do is drop your name in the comments section before the start of Next Saturday's Western States 100, and I will draw one lucky winner shortly after I regain control of my bodily functions!
Oh yeah, here's a link to a fun Pre-Western interview done by Bryan Tasaka over on The MOMAR BLOG
Yes, you read that right, I was hit by a car while on my road bike yesterday! I am fine, but I've been feeling a little bit like this lately:
and yeah, that last bullet was the car hitting me yesterday.
In the last seven days I was nearly hit by a car while riding home from work...this is all of a three minute ride, Roxy somehow stepped on a boulder weighing about twenty pounds and rolled it onto three of my open sandal'ed toes, I've fallen completely over twice on a single trail run, smoked a tree with my left wrist/hand on a separate trail run (it still hurts), and just yesterday I literally got hit by a car...while doing 35km/hr on my road bike!!
HOLY CRAP, I'm about to encase myself in bubble wrap, lock myself into my apt, and await my Dad's arrival next Monday night...maybe I should arrange something other than driving to California as well!
I was on my way home from the beaches of Vancouver yesterday afternoon, as we have seen one of our nicest springs on record and it has not rained a single drop in almost a full month! As I was cruising along at about 35km/hr I had just enough time to process this thought:
"F#$K ME, I can't believe I'm about to hit a car right now! Dammit, I've worked too hard for this shit to happen now!!"
A fraction of a second later and traffic had stopped in all directions, there was an 8-9 inch gash taken out of the hood of the vehicle I collided with, a piece of my handlebars was on the ground, and I was in total shock. I honestly can not fully remember if I even fell off of my bike? I think I simply came out of the pedals but effectively stayed upright. Somehow in the split second that I had to react I managed to slide my bike completely sideways, I remember hearing my tires skidding, and in the process I prevented a definitive cartwheel over the front of the car and effectively rammed into the side of the front 1/3 of the vehicle. It all happened so quickly that it was hard to even process what had just occurred.
The husband was in the passenger seat and he quickly jumped out to ensure that I was alright. Neither of us said a word for about ten to fifteen seconds, which is rather shocking to me cause I thought for sure I'd have lost my mind on this person...he just seemed too honest and concerned to start yelling at, and truth be told, even though they were cutting across traffic and did not see me, I probably could have prevented the incident had I been riding a bit more defensively. There was no doubt who was at fault, but I felt as much remorse for what I had done to their car as I did anger for being hit! Eventually we spoke and after confirming that my bike and I were both pretty much unscathed the gentleman climbed back into his car and I continued cycling the opposite way. It was about five minutes later when the adrenaline dissipated and I pulled off onto a sidewalk and called a friend,
"I WAS JUST HIT BY A FREAKNG CAR!!"
Yeah, it can all change that quickly. In fact not a month has passed by this year that I have not heard a story of a friend of a friend getting hit while on their roadie. Some, like me, have been fortunate enough to laugh it off, some however, are lucky to be alive right now and will have metal objects in their bodies for the rest of their lives.
It was a lesson learned. I am a much different rider than I was just 36hr ago.
Eleven days...I just need to survive another eleven days!!
(Winning, and setting a C.R. in my one and only attempt at 100 miles)
I actually made it...taper time is here!
Unfortunately it wasn't exactly how I had envisioned the last 14 days of training. Instead of logging my last long run yesterday, and eclipsing that magical 200km barrier, I was spitting up gunk and sleeping ten hours a night...I got sick. I think my body just got ahead of me by a few days and as I was dreaming about the final five days of heavy training, my immune system heard,
"Finish line, finish line...did he say we're finished! Alright everyone, time for our long awaited vacation, everyone in the pool!"
And with that I spent the last half of the week coughing up gunk, sneezing my butt off, and sleeping ten hours a night. I finally got back on my feet again tonight, and even though everyone and my dog have been kind enough to point out that missing five days at the complete end of my cycle won't set me back any for the big race, it is still with slight difficulty that I head into my official taper mode. I had envisioned crossing an imaginary line yesterday while eclipsing my biggest running week to date, instead, I slept in and eventually went on a mini road trip over to The Sunshine Coast. Don't get me wrong, the day was a blast and it was kinda nice not to be worrying about logging miles. However I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had that 200km of running in me as I was truly feeling great at the beginning of the week. Either way, the clock has run down, there are but eighteen days remaining before I square off against the absolute best in the sport down in California.
(This beach was so much better than the rocks suggest. Beautiful scenery and warm ocean water. Swimming was sublime!)
None the less, I am completely amazed that as I sit here right now, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will hit the starting line down in Squaw Valley with 100% of my health and fitness in check. I am not injured, I don't even have a niggle to speak of right now, just a body that is dying to finally be put to the test!
I am not quite sure how I managed this to be honest, for there were no fewer than half a dozen times, in half a dozen months, that I truly believed I was seriously broken. I seemed to battle with just about every lower body injury you could imagine over the last six months, but in the end I only lost two weeks of training back in March, and most of that was based around my travels in Germany and Poland. I was too busy drinking and enjoying a new part of the world to concentrate on proper recovery and once I fully addressed my issues I seemed to be back to good in a matter of days.
As early as mid January I remember suffering from tight calves and shins like I had not felt before. My legs were actually numb for the better part of my runs for a period of weeks before I seemed to get back on top of it. There were bouts with Plantar Fasciitis, tight IT bands, weak Glute Med muscles, calf soreness, shin tightness, a pulled hamstring, knee pain, clicking in the back of my knees, a Cuboid Subluxation of my foot, and on, and on, and on. There was always something that hurt, but it was never enough to keep me from getting my miles. I always managed to find a way to get past these issues without losing any significant time. I got to know my foam roller like it was a long lost friend. I punished my calves and shins with 'the stick' twice daily. I fell in love with a myo-facial ball as it finally seemed to solve my tight glute meds that I had struggled with for so long. I would rub anti-inflammatory oil on my calves before bed each night, and I experimented with everything from Traumeel, to Castor Oil, to P3. If someone told me that something worked for them, I tried it! I tried everything and anything that I thought might help with my recovery in the slightest. If you told me that duct taping my feet together and sleeping under my bed with my boxers inside out upon my own head would have increased my recovery time by 1% I would have done it without so much as asking a question. Eventually I would have realized out that you were having me on and in return I would probably shave off one of your eyebrows while you were sleeping. But hey, all's fair in love and war right.
I bought up pretty much every piece of compression gear upon the market today, and would end up wearing the stuff like pajamas. I practically lived in my compression socks and shorts throughout the winter. I ran with compression calf guards on for the first four months of the year. I can honestly say, compression works, it is great for recovery, but my jury is still out on whether or not it actually helps while you are racing or not. One thing is for certain, it looks ridiculous to run in knee high socks, especially on nice hot summer days. I lasted all of a week before I reverted back to my compression for rest and recovery only!
I also had to wear a foot brace to bed no fewer than two dozen times, to help my plantar fasc recovery while at rest. I wore an insert called 'heel that pain' for a month. I placed ice packs under both feet for weeks on end whenever I sat at my computer. I drank my recovery shakes religiously and popped my recover tablets like candy. I got semi regular massage, saw a physio five times, and visited my sports med Dr. like he was a member of my own family. AND, I took no fewer than 100 ice bathes. Yes I may no longer have the ability to fertilize an egg, and my boxers have felt 'kinda empty' for a few months now...but in the end, it was all worth it...I MADE IT. I have managed to log over 2,000km of running since Jan 1st, and I am fit, healthy, and ready to rock.
Western States will effectively be my one year anniversary since I turned my complete focus towards ultra distance running, and I can not think of a better way to celebrate my first birthday.
Eighteen days. Just eighteen sleeps before I get to stare down the biggest solo race of my entire life. BRING-IT-ON!!
(Even Roxy sat this one out!) I can't believe that I am already down to the last five days of my big mileage training! The final 14 refers to the last two weeks of running in which I was shooting for a 100 mile / 160 km week, and a 125 mile / 200 km week, back to back. I have not yet been physically able to string together back to back 100m weeks, so this was going to take a huge effort for me!
Last week went incredibly well as I indeed hit my 100 miles of running. I covered the distance in 15.5hr and stayed true to my goal of trying to eclipse 60,000 feet of climbing in my final four build weeks. I managed a different running partner each day and the highlight run of the week was a 4hr, 40k, triple climb of Whistler Mountain. I ran up to the snowline and down three times for over 7000 feet of climbing and descent. When I speak of 'feet of climbing' I try my absolute best to only count significant grades of climbing as well. My Garmin will always pump me up with higher numbers that I feel I attained as it will not distinguish the grade of climbing. I've made a conscious effort to get in the steepest terrain I can find, and so far my legs, and quads in particular have held up incredibly well! I feel like Western States will be won and lost on the strength of peoples downhill running late in the race. With that in mind, I'm going in prepared to do battle:) This week started off well enough, but as I sit here right now, on Wed, I am supposed to be out running my last BIG day as I type. I had planned to do a 50m route, and thanks to Mother Nature, it would be in heat up towards 30 degrees. I know this still pales in comparison to the the heat that will be faced down in California, but Ma Nature has been on my side all year long, or so it seems. Last year we did not get our first real string of nice weather until 'B.C. Bike Race', at the end of June. This year however, the rain has been minimal and the sun has been shining bright for almost a full month already!
Oh yeah, why am I typing and not running? For the first time in over a year, I am feeling sick. I'm coughing up crap and having trouble swallowing food...I will finally admit that my body is fighting something and I might need a day off...we'll see how I feel in a few hours time though...since there is only five days left to go and all:) GR
I hadn't touched a mtn bike since the previous MOMAR, on Sept 27th 2008 in Cumberland. Unfortunately I no longer own a mtn bike and it was not until 2pm on Friday, just 19hr before the race was to begin, that I managed to solidify my ride. Kim Steed, of Steed Cycles is my personal hero! Not only was I rocking out a sweet Santa Cruz ride, but it was painted in the hot green Team Steed colors...I almost looked like I new what I was doing!
As I lined up on the starting line at five minutes to nine I was surprised to see that not a single racer had taken advantage of the ability not to carry a fully loaded pack along with them on the first 4km running stage. Todd and I started doing this a few seasons ago. I had all the mandatory gear stuffed into the rear pockets of my biking jersey. The only two items of any 'bulk' were the extra long sleeve tech shirt, of which the Helly Hansen Mars Jacket packs up to nothing, and the minimum one liter water capacity, of which I actually had a two liter platypus bag rolled up and stuffed into my jersey. With under ninety seconds to go Bryan announced that you had to carry your climbing harness with you as well. I shot out of the starting area and sprinted back towards my bike and the rest of my gear! I quickly riffled through my backpack, grabbed the harness I had in a stuff sack, and made it back to the start just in time to hear the countdown...and we were off...
GAME ON!
I knew going into this race that the navigation would determine how I fared on the day. Everyone, including me, was wondering if I could actually win without my regular partner, and orienteering superstar, Todd Nowack. I was determined to prove that I could, but the reality of the last few months would catch up with me. I had fully intended to work on my nav skills by attending the weekly GVOC training sessions. Unfortunately that never materialized for me, and much like my biking, I had not touched a map since I handed it over to Todd at the last MOMAR in Cumberland.
I hammered out off the start, figuring that I needed to gain some sort of lead on the flagged section of the course to have any shot at holding people off through the O stage which was to come later. After looking over the course map for twenty minutes before the race I had just about every marked trail embedded in my brain and I also wanted to use this advantage by not allowing people to follow me if possible. Any intersection that someone behind me had to stop and reflect upon their map meant a few extra seconds for me in the long run. I should also mention that my first reaction while looking over the maps was...The Chief!...The Chief!...how in God's name did they get permits to utilize The Chief!!
I came in off the first 4km run in 19min and with a slight lead over Shane Ruljancich, who along with John Markez, and Bart Jarmula, were considered to be the favorites on the day.
I had a quick transition and was out on the bike within seconds. As I climbed away from Alice Lake I could not help but feel that although I was riding well, I was most certainly lacking the high end cadence and pull through within my pedal stroke. I knew I would hold my own on the downhill technical singletrack terrain, especially since I lived in Squamish for three years and knew most of the trails inside out, but I did not question for a second that I would eventually be caught on the flatter, more rideable terrain. Sure enough, with only a few minutes to go until the Orienteering section, John Markez pulled up alongside of me, offered me his draft, and then slowly disappeared up the next hill.
Welcome To You Worst Nightmare...
I managed to close the gap and hit the transition area in sync with John. I was the first to switch out shoes and after looking at my map and thinking I had myself orientated, I proceeded to run up a forest service road. Thankfully for me, John decided to follow. After about four minutes of climbing I heard John's voice behind me,
"GARY! You sure you're going the right way here?"
"John, I am most certainly 100% positive that I am definitely-maybe not heading in the right direction right now!!"
As John proceeded to turn back, "We're heading South. We should be going North!"
I pulled out my compass, confirmed what John was telling me, cursed myself, and then barreled back down the way we had just come from. We hit the bikes at the same time again, now five minutes since we first arrived and right back where we had started from! There were numerous others who had obviously caught up to and now passed us, as was evidenced by the additional bikes now surrounding ours.
We headed off in the right direction and upon reaching the known area of the first checkpoint, John, myself, and Norm Thibault all spent well over two-three full minutes searching for the hidden flag and CP punch. Right after we found it and as I was referencing my map John looked at me,
"C'mon let's go!"
"I don't know where the hell I'm going yet!"
"Just follow me, we'll tackle it together."
I paused, thought about his very kind offer, and quickly remembered what I had promised myself just three days prior while out on a morning trail run. I told myself that I would absolutely refuse to follow any other racer through the navigation section. I wanted a true result. I wanted to know if I could indeed win a MOMAR by myself and without relying on someone else to do all the thinking for me. Orienteering is a MAJOR component of adventure racing. I had struggled with the thought that I was not a complete adventure racer and that I was simply a decently fast runner and biker who often tagged along for the ride. I looked back at John,
"Thanks John, but I can't. Get yer ass outta here, I'll figure this thing out."
And with that, my free ride disappeared into the forest again.
I managed to smoothly find my way to the following CP and my confidence slightly rose. As I headed off to snag my third CP however, it all went to shit. I simply misjudged a slight V in the trail, headed right when I should have veered left, and before I knew it time was evaporating out from under me. I could not fully place myself on the map and after minutes of struggling with this I started to back track. Shortly after doing this however Roger McLeod and Garth Campbell both came running towards and eventually past me. I stopped to reference my map, realized the error in my judgment and collected the CP just a few minutes later.
From here however it only continued to go sour for me. The masses were now attacking the O course and it was killing my confidence to see so many people now running ahead of me. I struggled to stay focused and within my own map, and again on the very next CP I took a trail just a bit too early and dropped another five minutes before realizing my mistake!
I have the necessary navigation skill set. What I lack however is the ability to stay within my map and to recover quickly from incorrect decisions. The rest of the O course flip flopped between finding a CP and feeling good, and struggling to do so and feeling frustrated. By the time I finally collected the final CP and returned to grab my bike I knew I had dug myself a massive hole. The lead guys had all put close to 25min into me! I grabbed my bike with a tinge of anger, hopped on and just started hammering on the pedals for all I was worth. I was a good three plus minutes and a few km down the logging road before realizing that I was YET AGAIN, going the WRONG WAY!! I turned back, with my tail between my legs, and again started pounding on my pedals to at least get back to where I was over five minutes prior!
Eventually and finally, I was heading in the right direction again. By this time however there were a ton of racers in front of me. The trail was packed and I just kept calling 'on your left' and trying to be as polite about it as possible. I heard the exact same comment no fewer than a dozen times,
"What are you doing back here!?"
"Oh ya know, just taking the scenic route!"
Thankfully this section was a fairly large climb and I lucked out in a huge way as I managed to catch the lead people within this pack of riders just meters before they were to turn and descend the technical singletrack terrain that lay ahead. Having even one rider in front of me through here would have seriously impeded my ability to try and make up any ground on the lead racers. I was still uncertain as to EXACTLY where I stood in terms of time, as no one had a definitive time to throw at me. Shortly thereafter however, I can into a CP manned by two friends from Squamish.
"We were wondering where you were!"
"How far back am I?"
"Twenty fivvvv, six minutes."
"SHIT. Twenty six minutes!"
"Yup."
"Thanks, see ya!"
Are You Gonna Step Up, Or Step Aside?
As I departed this CP, which was very close to the half way point in the race, I was completely uncertain as to what I was going to do. I had very serious thoughts of simply shutting down the competitive side of things and enjoying the course for how spectacular it actually was. I was heading towards some of my favorite trails in all of Squamish, it was an incredible day with nothing but sunshine and warm temps. I was back in a town that I love and participating in a sport that I love and hold very dear to my heart. Maybe I could just cruise it on in from here and enjoy the day for how perfect it was. I had a legitimate excuse for being so far back. Everyone knew I sucked at nav and would be helpless without Todd by my side. There simply was not enough race course left to even attempt to get back in this thing. I had blown it and was heading for my worst MOMAR finish in over three years.
The negative thoughts kept on coming, but I simply kept telling myself a few key things that I have learned through adventure racing over the years. You NEVER know what's going on ahead of you within an AR, and it is ABSOLUTELY never over until you find and cross that finish line.
Just two CP's later, another two friends, with additional split times...
"Nineteen minutes behind fifth, twenty two minutes behind fourth."
"THANKS!!"
I had come to race, and I was going to do just that. I did not care how far back I was, I fully intended to get my ass back into this thing somehow. Maybe I could still catch third place? Maybe I could just 'win' a few stages and at least slightly redeem myself on the day? Either way, the decision had been made, I was going to destroy myself if I needed to. I was going to find a way.
From here I was onto some of Squamish's finest singletrack and admittedly I was totally shocked at how well I was handling it. Before The MOMAR a friend warned me against doing anything stupid and injuring myself and my chances at Western States in just over one months time.
His words to me,
"Dude, you haven't even been on a mountain bike in eight months...eight months! Don't do anything stupid or you'll end up in the hospital!"
It's Just Like Riding A Bicycle...
His warning flashed through my mind for all of 1/100th of a second. I was having WAY TOO MUCH FUN on the singletrack to even ponder what would happen if I messed it up now. I 'found my flow' and simply unleashed Kim Steed's bike upon the terrain below...it was small slice of heaven, and even now, three days out, I am still missing being on a mtn bike again!
As I was pushing myself through the next few sections of the course my legs started to cramp up on me in numerous different places. It originated in my adductors, hit my calves, and even my hamstrings, and arms were feeling it. I kept popping my Thermolytes, pounding my 1200 and praying that my body would not crack on me now.
Again I had some major luck on my side while biking as I only seemed to catch up to people where there was ample room to pass them. Not once was I impeded by a rider in front of me!
The next trekking stage, up The Chief, was approaching fast, and I had zero idea of where I stood in terms of the overall pack. I just did not know if I had made up or lost time in the last hour of racing. All I knew was that I had not pushed that hard at any previous MOMAR race, and my body was starting to feel it. I had run out of fluids about thirty minutes before hitting the transition area of The Chief, and as I dropped my bike I made sure to spend an extra minute getting some liquids back into my body from the race provided water station.
I could now see Team Helly Hansen Vancouver Island just ahead of me, and as strong as they are, I had no idea how high up they currently were within the overall pack. I still did not know what was going on ahead of me, and it took a hell of a lot of internal chit chat to convince myself that it was still worth while to push as hard as I possibly could.
I reached the top of 'The First Peak' on The Chief and could see Norm Thibault just ahead of me and heading towards the rappel site. I had finally caught a solo racer! I turned and ran down from the top of The Chief to the ropes section and hit it in unison with Norm.
An EPIC Rappel!
I normally have some apprehension with any kind of ropes work, and anything involving heights in general, but what I heard next allowed me to overcome this without so much as a fraction of a thought.
"You guys are the third and fourth place racers."
"WHAT!"
There was no time to think about how all this had all transpired, I simply strapped in and practically jumped off the rappel site! My bike gloves were burning my hands as I tried to get down the 165 foot rope as fast as possible. I hit the bottom first...now in third place overall!! (I would later learn that two racers ahead of me ended up crashing out and seriously hurting themselves. Unfortunately Norm Hann and John Markez both had to go to the hospital, but thankfully by the sounds of things they will both be back on their bikes in no time)
From here there was an additional cool feature where we had to scramble up a small rock face, while again roped in, and then use our safety line around a slightly exposed corner. The rappel site was pretty epic and ranked right up there as one of the best I've seen in an adventure race, most certainly tops amongst any sprint a.r.!
From here it was back onto the main trail heading back down The Chief. I know this trail intimately as I used to run it on my lunch breaks from North Shore Athletics when we had a store in Squamish. I pushed hard and only increased the pace when I came across other racers hiking up towards me,
"You're less than a minute behind the next guy! Go get him!"
Again I was in total and utter shock at hearing this and I pushed myself very near my breaking point. As I approached the last half of the descent my body started to go a bit numb and I had the very real thought process that I was on the verge of passing out. The timing of my footsteps became more of an effort and I thought to myself,
"There are lots of hikers out here, so I should be fine if I black out...just be sure not to do it on a steeper section of the trail Gary!"
I spotted the final chunk of rock at the very base of The Chief, and my only thought was,
"Is that the bottom? REALLY? How?"
I truly had no recollection of the bottom third portion of the descent, and I was pretty damn happy that it was now over!
I just Want To Lay Down & Take A Nap!
I managed a slight run back into the T.A. and again concentrated on getting some fluids back into my body. I had buy one gel remaining, and after sucking it back I perked up ever so slightly.
The T.A. crew to me,
"He just left one minute ago. You can catch him!"
I was just trying to hold on and over the final 25min biking section of the course I altered between trying to catch Shane, and shoulder checking for Norm.
After a fun little river crossing I could see Shane just up ahead. His lead was now down to just seconds, yet he continued to disappear around each successive corner.
Unfortunately for Shane, and somewhat fortunately for me, as I came into the final small climb of the race, Shane was standing next to his bike and fiddling with his chain. All I could say as I passed him was,
"HA HA!"
Just kidding...I looked over at him and just said,
"That's not fair. I'm sorry."
I was. I thought I could have caught Shane before the line, and it's unfortunate that a mechanical issue took that slight battle away from us. HOWEVER, I now found myself in second place overall!! With under ten minutes of riding left to go I put my head down and pushed for the line with all that I was worth...past 'The Inn On The Water', under the highway, onto Logger's Lane, I could hear M.C. Dave Norona just down the street...one final shoulder check...holy crap...I DID IT...I DID IT...I dropped my bike and sprinted across the line, cramping up almost instantly...SECOND PLACE OVERALL!!! SECOND FREAKING PLACE!!
Honestly I find myself more proud of this second then of most of the first place finishes I've been a part of over the last few years. Todd and I have done some wonderful things together, and we've shared in some pretty fun battles...but this one stands alone. I was on the very verge of completely quitting on myself out there. I messed up in a big way during the orienteering course, but I stood by my own personal promise and struggled through my inadequacies on the course. I am truly amazed that I was able to salvage a result out of this race. Coming down The Chief...I've never been there before, that deep into my physical reserves I mean, that was a whole other zone that I have not visited before. Obviously I don't want to go much deeper than that, but to expand my personal limits, even ever so slightly beyond where the were before, is more than I ever could have hoped to accomplish in this past weekends MOMAR race.
I know it's just a five dollar medal that I get to keep...but honestly, it means so much more than that to me. I'm not gonna get cheesy here, but I will end with this. You just never know. You have no idea how you will handle the greatest challenges in your life until they are thrown in your face. Don't back down, don't turn and run...well unless you're in an adventure race...or if you're being faced by a rabid three legged dog, then you should run...four legs and you haven't a chance...I guess all I'm trying to say is that you just never know. You truly have no idea until you lay it all out there. Don't be afraid to do that from time to time, you may just surprise yourself in the end!
Special thanks to all THE MOMAR staff and vollunteers for putting on yet another INCREDIBLE event. The rappel was truly EPIC, and the course was amazing. The after party, as always, was a ton of fun...but I'm gonna throw this out there, too many people left way too early. Stick around and enjoy a single beer next time...you've definitely earned it!!
GR
P.S. IF you've made it this far, you deserve to see one of the funniest MOMAR pics from the last few years...
