gorge waterfalls 50k 2012 race report

Elowah Falls – the turnaround

Stunning. It really is the only word you can use for the Columbia Gorge. Cascading waterfalls, enchanted forests, mossy green enclaves hushed with a certain magic. Running these trails is its own reward.

So how cool is it that Rainshadow Running has put together a race that allows you to not only enjoy some of the finest trails the Gorge has to offer but to also push yourself up against your own limits. I ran the inaugural race in 2011, but as winter started coming to a close and my own training was going well, I knew that I would have to go back and test myself against the challenging terrain once again.

Luck has brought me the fantastic good fortune of the ultimate training partner – a good friend with the same attitude towards training, a similar pace and now an enthusiastic love for the trails. Even better, Julie is the training plan task master, keeping me on target through the weeks when my laissez faire nature would have me blithely training away in whatever manner I felt like going with that week. We focused on long runs with shorter back to backs during the weeks leading up the race; I peaked with a 70 mile week featuring a 30.25 mile through run on the Wildwood Trail. My weekly mileages ranged from 50 – 60 miles on average, but I also had a cut back week of 25 – 30 miles every 3 weeks, usually from necessity (colds…).

Several weeks out from the race we learned that trail repairs necessitated a course change. The point to point course became an out and back, and the opening miles gained climbing feet as the new course took us up to Devil’s Rest (elevation 2,402) before finally letting us descend. On a scouting mission the week of the race, Julie & I missed our turn off trail and were not able to make it to the top of Devil’s Rest before we ran out of time, but we could tell we were in for some serious pain.

Finally the week of the race arrived. Nature reminded us that for all of our best laid plans, she ultimately is in charge, dumping snow on the course and changing the route once again. Thank goodness.

Me, Julie, Megan & Bunky before the start of the race.

The morning of the race dawned at last. Wade drove Julie & I out to the start, where we quickly found Texas Libby and said our hellos. Word was spreading like wildfire that our race director had a flat tire and had yet to arrive, so we cooled our jets and talked nervously with our friends. The good luck of not having to climb all the way to Devils Rest – twice – was a common theme. Talent scouting was also fun – it was a virtual who’s who of Oregon’s finest ultrarunners.

Before I knew it, we were off and running around Benson Lake.

Jenn Shelton blazed past me like I was standing still. So much for winning. Ha!

After a nice warm up mile, the climbing begins. Up. Up. And even more up. I was ppushing as hard as I dared. After two miles of solid climb, you reach the intersection that signals the top (1,500 feet later), and I began to roll. Hard. So hard that by the time I was nearing the bottom of the Multnomah Falls switchbacks, I knew my quads were in trouble. Oops.

The music came out. My head was giving me all kinds of grief, but I kept it rolling, running by myself up and down the rolling hills, past the Oneota Gorge and Ponytail Falls. Up. Down. Up.

Julie passes under the overhang on the way down to Multnomah Falls on a training run

My fueling plan was fairly basic. I had Gu Peach Tea in my handheld, a PB sandwich for the first two hours, Stinger Chews for the next two, and gels for the final hours of the race. My theory is to start with solid food and gradually get less so as I tire. Seemed to work for this race. I didn’t stop at the first aid station.

Around mile 10 the course gets a little less pretty and hits some scrubby looking forest. I knew I was getting close to the road section, but it was still a shock when Max King came flying by on his way back to the finish.

The road miles seemed longer this year, perhaps because I knew I would soon be returning. At the next aid station, I stopped to get more water and grabbed a little Coke, but mostly because it sounded good. What’s the point of running a race if you aren’t going to stop and enjoy the treats, right?

Another climb to Elowah Falls, and I was at the halfway point in just under three hours.

The return trip back to the last aid station was uneventful. One foot in front of the other type stuff, but I did run out of water. A quick fill up and some chatting with the volunteers, and I was back on the trail, ready to climb.

Climbing the switchbacks at Multnomah Falls at mile 26 of the race with all of the tourists was interesting. I still find it amazing that we were passing folks at all, but it was frustrating to get stuck behind packs of people who seemed unaware that we were rolling up behind them. Still, the climb seemed endless. And it was only beginning.

Coming back up this trail was a trial. My legs were burning. The section from the Larch Mountain Trail to the Wahkeena Trail, which seems so mild coming down, was the cruelest of all. Still, when the final song from Unbreakable came on my playlist, I was crying tears of joy that I could be out to enjoy this day.

Less than a mile to go.

Finally we hit the downhill, but by now my legs were fried. Descending was just as painful, and my legs were so tired that I worried I would trip and fall if I went too fast. But soon I was back on the flats and chugged my way back around Benson Lake to finish what I started 6 hours and 13 minutes before. A PR. Nice.

Of course, that’s when my doubts started.

Was this course truly the 49k James said it was? Several Garmins reported 26.5 miles. Another account put it at 29.3 miles. I fretted about it for a couple of days.

Finally I let it go.

Because really, in the end, it’s about enjoying the day. Pushing your body. Testing your limits. Your splits don’t matter to anyone, only that you put yourself out there and gave it a go. I had a wonderful day on the trail, enjoyed one of the most delicious post race beers ever, and was able to enjoy the company of my friends. What else does a person truly need?

on turning 40

It's a big number, forty.

Run 40 miles, and your legs are going to hurt.  Drink 40 ounces of beer, and your belly is going to hurt, though you may not be able to feel anything else.  Go into the desert for 40 days, and you come home a changed person.

Certainly there is some magic in the number.  You do become a "master" after all.  You have finally climbed up to the top of that hill, and if you take a moment to look, you just might be inspired by the view.

I am turning 40 today.

I am mostly excited to enter a new chapter in my life, but part of me is bittersweet about how fast the first 40 passed.  I have a habit when I'm climbing hills when I'm running.  I put my head down so that the bill of my hat covers up the climb ahead.  It makes it easier to stay focused, but I sometimes miss the view when I do that.  The same can be true in life, so I am making my birthday wish that I will be able to keep my head up during the next 40 so that I don't miss a thing.

Happy running!

randomness

I have been very quiet lately. Just haven't had much to say, really. Training is coming along pretty well for my first 50k of the year.  We've had a lot of rain, which means the days are really dark.  It's a rough time of year for me. I do much better when we have some sun.

I've learned a couple of things though.

I can't pull off 50 mile weeks and cut calories. This is probably obvious to the rest of the world, but I thought that I could eat very healthy food and be okay.  After getting sick the first time, spending a week doing nothing but eating, trying it a second time, and then spending a few days relapsing, it finally sank in. So I won't be trying that anymore.

Strengthening my core is helpful.  I can't count how many times I've said that I was going to do this, but I am actually doing it now and I am seeing results.  Yesterday's 20 miler on the trail ended with just a touch of lower back soreness - I am normally a wreck at the end of 20 miles.  I am swimming, doing some basic kettlebell exercises, crunches with a medicine ball and pushups.  Not a lot of any of it, but enough to show some results, I guess.

I have this nutty urge to do an Ironman. I keep watching my DVR'ed copy of this year's Kona, and I can't bring myself to erase it.  When I swim, I imagine myself in a wetsuit, starting my first leg of competition.  Of course, I have no bike.  Minor detail.  Still, I cannot shake it.  What gives?!?

That's about it!  What's going on with everyone else?

happy new year

I made it official this morning.  I signed up for this.

50 miles, give or take.

It's time to get it in gear.  I'm going to call 2011 the year of laziness.

Not 2012.

I'm signing up now so that I can't wimp out or think of 2,012 excuses as to why I can't do it. 

What about you?  Are you going big this year?  I mean, it could be our last year here on earth, right?  Let's go kick the crap out of it!!

beginner mind

In zen, there is a concept of beginner's mind; it is zen in action.  In essence, it is the state of your mind when you drop your preconceptions, your expectations, your thoughts about what you know - you are just present to explore and observe, like a child. Or perhaps you are a child - I don't know.  I only surf the edges of zen, so I will not pretend to understand what it all means.

But I do know that I have been having my own beginner mind running moments lately.

A running buddy and I finally had a chance to meet up with the local trail running group, Trail Factor, for their Tuesday night runs.  In the dark.  On the trail.  With only my lowly headlamp to guide me.  The first run went pretty good.  I fell back a bit, but mostly I kept up.

Not so the second time.

They dropped me in five minutes flat.  Gone.  Just me, and the roots, and the dark, spooky night on the trail.  I thought about the one scene of Grimm I have watched this season - the first one, where the girl gets attacked by the werewolf creature while she's running.  (Consequently, I am pretty sure that scene was filmed in Tryon Creek - one of the parks I like to trail run in. Well, at least I used to!! Ha.)  I thought about all the times I have fallen in the daylight on the trail.  I wondered if anyone would miss me if I never showed up.

But mostly, I thought about how little I know about trail running.  How to land softly.  How to relax and flow down the hills.  How to run with confidence.  How to take the hills.  I realized that for all the running I think I have done, I have so much more to learn.

I thought about how I was the slowest one in the group, and I was giving it a solid effort.  I thought about how I wanted to work at it, and learn it, and get better on those trails.

I realized that I look forward to these Tuesday night runs because they challenge me to grow as a runner.  I will get faster; I will learn to keep up.

Thankfully, one of my running buddies found me on the trail that night.  We ran the rest of the way together, catching up as running buddies do.  But I did not lose that sense of beginner mind that I found that night on the trail.  It is with me still, and it has energized me in a way that nothing else has in a long time.

Have you had a moment when you realized that for all you know about running or triathlon, there is still so much more to learn?  Did it energize your training and racing?

time lapse photography...again

I know, I know. I am a total sucker for time lapse photography. But this one features all Oregon locations - and if there is something I love more than time lapse photography, it is my home state.


Finding Oregon from Uncage the Soul Productions on Vimeo.

is it time for an identity crisis?

Think about all of the labels you give yourself.  What are some of them?

Are you a runner?  A triathlete?  An ultrarunner?

What about the negative labels?

Are you not a runner?  Are you an inept cyclist?  Are you an old dog who can't learn any new tricks?  Do you resist calling yourself an athlete?

It just might be time for an identity crisis.  A recent talk given at the 2011 Neuroleadership Summit in San Francisco suggested that giving yourself an identity crisis just might be the best way to improve your personal performance.

The focus of that talk was on business and company performance, but the observations (as summarized by Mitch Watson of the HBR Blog Network) apply to sports performance as well. 

"A simple model for understanding the link between identity, brain, and their effect on performance goes something like this: 1) identity drives motivation, 2) motivation drives action, and 3) action drives results. For example, if someone speeds past you at 90 miles an hour on the highway, odds are you won't chase them down and issue a ticket. The reason for this is that you don't have an identity in your brain of 'I am a policeman.'

 A policeman, on the other hand, has that identity, takes action (chases you), and gets the result (issues a ticket). Look at every activity you perform in life and there is an always an identity directly behind it."

If you don't identify as a runner, you probably aren't going to run with any consistency.  Given the choice of running on a cold, wet day or curling up by the fire, the non-runner is far more likely to choose the warm, dry option.  After all, you aren't a runner, right?

For lasting change, we have to think differently about who we are.  It is not enough to just want to be an ultrarunner; I must think of myself as an ultrarunner first, and then let my actions follow that identity.  If I want to become a triathlete, I must think of myself as a triathlete, rather than just wanting to be one and hoping for the best.  This would explain why actually signing up for a race is a much better motivation for training than just casually taking on some of the training elements of any given race.

A positive identity of our self as a runner can also assist us on race day.  If we fail to truly identify ourselves as a being capable of what we are trying to do, we run the risk of a meltdown on race day:

"Have you ever been in a meeting where you're carrying an individual identity of, "I am an expert on this topic," and someone erodes that identity by challenging your point? What happens? From a neuroscience standpoint your brain shifts into a "fight or flight" limbic response and for a time you can't even think straight. All of the resources (namely oxygen and glucose) that were being dedicated to your thinking brain (the prefrontal cortex) have now been diverted to your emotional brain (the limbic system) and for a moment your ability to function effectively in your job is greatly impaired."

When the race gets hard and we doubt our own ability to do what we have set out to do, we can hit the wall just as hard as if we had not taken in enough calories.  Rather than tell yourself, "I am not a runner - who do I think I am!" when the going gets tough, it would be far more powerful and helpful to your neurological system to affirm to yourself that "yes, I am a runner, and I can do this". It isn't just positive affirmation mumbo-jumbo; this is actual neuroscience that can help.

After reading and digesting this information, I realize I am ready to chuck the identity that says "I am a mentally weak runner" (and trust me, I use that one a lot) and I am ready to take on the "I am a tough ultrarunner" identity in 2012.

So what identities are you ready to shed?  Which identities would you like to take on?  I'd love to hear!