Amy and I decided to take a vacation to Pasadena in order to visit one of my groomsmen for our upcoming wedding. We were to leave Wednesday AM and arrive in LA at 10:40 PCT. The plan was to get to Petar’s around lunchtime and get a run in. The best laid plans…. Our flight out of Rochester was delayed because there was ice in the engines. Now I don’t know about other parts of the country, but when weather is bad in Rochester we get up earlier to shovel the driveway, de-ice our cars, warm them up so there is no ice on the engines, etc., We do this to make sure we are at work on time so we don’t screw up everyone else’s schedule. Evidently it does not work this way for the airlines. Consequently, we took off from Rochester two minutes prior to when we were supposed to land in Philadelphia. Needless to say, we missed our connection and the next flight to LA wasn’t leaving for another five and a half hours. (We had already been up since 3:00 AM). Los Angeles had to wait until 5:00 PM PCT to be graced by our presence… just in time for rush hour. No run was happening today.
Thursday morning, the plan was to get a 10ish miler in, so I mapped a route around the Rose Bowl. Sports fan that I’m not, it was quite the spectacle to see Alabaman’s and Texan’s tailgating at 9:00 AM in preparation for the BCS championship. The other surprise was the effect dry, hot weather had on us. Our last long run was 10 miles in 30 degree weather two weeks prior at Mendon Ponds. This acclimation thing was going to be tricky with two days before race-day. Add to this being spoiled to the gills by our host, water retention from electrolyte intake, and great meals weren’t allowing me any weight loss.
Friday was to be an easy 3 – 4 mile day around the Rose Bowl later in the evening, so we went sightseeing. First stop was the Griffith Park Observatory (over by the big HOLLYWOOD sign). There was this neat little hiking trail up a little peak right next to the observatory so Amy and I decided to take a short hike in our sandals up it. It was at least 2 miles up about 500-600 ft in the wrong footwear, and my quads and shins were asking me what I was up to and why, but with stronger language. OK, so after that was finished, we took the short drive to Santa Monica to dip our feet in the Pacific and see where Amy’s Sunday race was being held (the inaugural LA half-marathon). Two walking hours later we watched the sunset… probably too much of a workout for an easy day.
One large meal with fantastic company and few hours of sleep later we were off to Boney Mountain. While waiting for the start of the race we caught up with one of Amy’s old high school classmates who has just run 19 miles to the start of the race to watch (because watching a trail race is so exciting… people start, disappear, and then re-appear anywhere between an hour and a half to 4 hours later). Anyhow, I can’t stop staring at the mountains around me and get that old feeling I used to get at ultras, a healthy combination of fear, excitement, and wonder… but mainly fear. We get our race instructions and are off.
The first two miles consist of a nice gentle dirt road followed by 1.5 miles of screaming paved downhill. I am amazed that my toenails are all still intact. Downhills are my specialty, I negotiate them well and try to take advantage of gravity as much as possible… 200 lbs is in my favor at this point. Fighting the crowds and negotiating single track trail I manage the first three miles at a nice 10 min/mile pace. Then the real race started. Mile 3 – 4 consists of over 6000 feet of climb. My pace drops to 17 minutes for that specific mile, and we haven’t even approached the big mountain yet… it’s going to be a long day.
Upon cresting the first monster at mile 4, runners are greeted with an amazing vista. I hear one lady exclaim, “God Bless America!” and regardless to my feelings on nationalism and deities, I find myself concurring. Technical single track downhill then captures my attention. For the next half-mile I’m enjoying life on this technical section, passing people, getting some rest, and breaking up the muscle usage. There are challenges that are new to me here which rear their head more than once. As opposed to east coast running, there are no skinny deciduous trees to help me up hills or help maintain balance and regulate speed on the downhills. Also, the trail consists of eroded rock silt; it’s like running on fine, slippery sand. Potential for slipping and falling is great. With this is in the back of my mind I tread a little more cautiously than usual and stay safe.
A short steep uphill from mile 4.5 – 5 is a nice walk break from the last half mile of technique. Cresting the hill reveals a one mile screaming downhill; 800 feet of descent to sea level. Unbelievably, I still own all of my toenails. This is a nice double track dirt fire road which allows the field to finally stretch out a bit, and once again my poundage is contributing to good speed. I’m happy, yet there is concern in the back of my head because I’m recalling what was spoken at the beginning of the race, “You want to save 2/3rds of your energy for the second half of the race!”
Yes, the announcement had been referring to miles 6 – 10; 2000 feet of ascent over four miles. At the 6 mile aid station, (one hour into the race and well on pace for a 2:15 finish) the volunteers were offering cliff bars, full bottles of water, and bottle refills of Gatorade, but my fanny-pack bottle is still 2/3rds full and I don’t want a hand held bottle so I grab a cup, down it, and go. Now, I never call a race unfair, I have heard others refer to different courses using that term but I never really understood it. I mean, don’t these people pay attention to the race maps and elevation profiles before they commit to entering these events? On this day I began to understand what my cohorts have been talking about. The race director warned us about this “hill” (Boney Mountain) and discussed the unrelenting ascent, so I was prepared. What he didn’t mention was mile 6 – 6.5 was a gradual ascent, so myself and the runners around me took off at a nice clip, then the fun started! I dropped into ultra mode and started power walking; my stairmaster workouts were paying off. While walking, I passed an older gentleman who was running right about mile 7. Miles 7 – 9 offered no relief on this ascent, but at the 9 mile mark there appeared some steep, technical downhill. I thought it was over… about a third mile later I ran by some search and rescue guys who said, “You’re almost to the top.” WHAT!!! I thought I had already peaked and that the race director had misspoken. No, after ascending 1400 feet in 3 miles, there was a quick descent of 100 feet only to be greeted by 700 more feet of ascent in the next 2/3rds mile… as close to unfair as any course can be!
Two hours into the event and I’m at mile 10! I originally wanted to be done with the whole race in two-hours so now I have to recalculate, 2:30 should be reasonable. Miles 10 – 12 are down, down, down. Once again in my glory I pass folks left and right on this single track bordering cliffs and I manage to get to the 12 mile mark at two hours and 18 minutes! I have just plugged in two 9:00 minute miles… this baby is mine. Did I mention that the course is unfair? I kid of course, but mile twelve starts with a half mile ascent that just kills me, I have already left everything on the course and was thinking I could coast into the finish. My legs are toast, my bottle is empty, and I am reduced to putty. 2:37… 19 minutes to cover 1.1 miles! But I’m happy, I’m done.
It seems crazy to put my body through this torture, but there is something about this trail running thing; being one with nature (even a stone’s throw away from LA), pushing one’s body to the point where there is nothing left in the tank and forging forward regardless, sharing camaraderie with fast and slow runners alike, it’s humbling. I don’t do it for medals (even though I got one) or glory; it’s just something that makes me feel at one with myself and the world around me. Thanks to all around me who support me through all of my passions.Oh! Did I mention that we staopped at the Biggest Loser Ranch after the race?
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