Heading to the 2011 Lake Sonoma 50

With the 2011 Lake Sonoma 50 only 9 days away, it seemed like an appropriate time to take a look at what a month March has been and where it all seems to be heading this year. While I haven’t raced since the Redwood Park 50k, I have taken the opportunity to continue to heal from my arm contusion suffered in February and put in some quality miles. I have also done a number of track workouts and tempo/long runs on the Miwok 100k course in Marin, which have yielded promising results. As my weight has crept back down to 166-167, my stamina and resolve to maintain consistency in my running has improved. While the end goal for my weight is still 162ish, I can feel that as the season kicks into gear that a lighter body has meant an easier time going up hills such as the Rodeo Valley trail or Coastal trail. While I may never be 140 lb., I believe that I can still fly right around 160 lb. The improved strength in my core and toned down body that I’ve worked harder to develop for this season will hopefully lay the foundation to take the next steps in my running career much as I did between Dec ’07 and Dec ‘09.

The most important of these Miwok course runs could very well be this weekend as I lace them up for a run from Muir Beach to the Turnaround Point and back to Pantoll Ranger Station. For those not familiar with the race, this equates to almost 27 miles and encompasses the two most important climbs of the race: up Deer Park Fire Road and 1.5 miles up from the turnaround at the highway (from Stinson to Pt. Reyes) to the Bolinas ridgeline. Deer Park Fire Road and that climb back up to the ridgeline represent the two key points where people’s races turn due to their relative taxing nature. People seem to either finish them feeling renewed with confidence and strength or lethargic and beaten down as they get back onto the quicker, rolling landscape that characterizes the ridgeline. While there’s still a possibility that this training run will get moved to after the LS50 due to the weather conditions, the most likely scenario has me doing this training run once before and once afterwards. While it could potentially have a residual effect on my race at Lake Sonoma, I anticipate that an abbreviated taper period should be sufficient to keep me fresh for the race. I plan on using Lake Sonoma as a checkpoint for Miwok, so a full 2-week taper period is probably not appropriate until before Miwok. At this point, my Uncle and I have gone over the general race plan and are in the process of developing a more definitive goal; we are definitely eyeing sub-8 hours, but I’m going to let these last training workouts play a role in swinging it one way or another.

Also on a side note, I just wanted to thank the individuals who have helped make this year a success so far. Although it’s hard to see since I’ve been patiently taking the time to train, 2011 couldn’t be a year for breakthrough without the efforts of my wife Wilma and Uncle Andy who have sacrificed time and energy to help me get ready for this year. My wife gives me the time and space to put in my evening and long runs because she knows how much this year means to me. Uncle Andy has been putting in time to help make my weekly track workouts at Kezar Stadium a success by watching my form as well as keeping me honest to the clock. While keeping motivated is always a challenge, it makes it a lot easier when I know I’ve got two people who can give me the proverbial swift kick to the arse when I need it. Sometimes recognizing the commitment and sacrifice of others is a powerful reminder that there is always more at stake than one’s own ego.

I also wanted to thank those organizations and companies who have put their faith in me to represent their brands this year. To Brooks, Diakadi Body, Injinji, GU and NUUN, I hope that my running reflects well upon you as my successes are a direct result of not only your products and services, but of the personal relationships that have been cultivated with folks behind these companies over the years. Thanks again and cheers!

God bless everyone and happy trails,

Gundy

Redwood Park 50k and the first 2 months of 2011

Snow? Mud? Rain? Freezing Cold? While weathermen and weatherwomen around the Bay Area had everyone on edge with predictions of a local cold weather armageddon this past Saturday morning, reality wasn’t quite as dramatic. The Redwood Park 50k in the Oakland hills this past Saturday was a cold one with frost and a couple of ice patches on the ground. In spite of large residual pools of rain and muddy hills along the course, the sky was blue and the air was crisp for a great day of running. There would be some downhill sections where I would need to show caution instead of the reckless abandon that I love, but overall it was a good step towards a successful 2011.

I didn’t want to try and torch the first 20k loop; rather, I wanted to keep it steady throughout the entire run and most importantly finish the race healthy. I’ve torched the first half of 50ks before when my body wasn’t trained up enough, only to be plagued by serious fatigue later in the race. I was targeting between 4:15-4:20, cognizant of the fact that I need to dial down some of the descents to stay healthy and that there would be significant wet patches, particularly on the climbs. In my head, I was thinking 1:37:30 (20k), 2:32:30 (30k) and sub-4:20 finish would be a decent training race and be a good steady effort.

Cruising in to the main aid station in 1:38:30, I took a minute to reload before taking on the 10k loop. At this point, I started to see a number of other runners from the other distances out on the trail, particularly the slower 10k runners coming back to finish. As I try to slow things down and stay consistent, I continue to make it a point to encourage the other runners in their own races with a simple “Keep moving” or “Good job”. Sometimes, pulling myself out of my own competitive vortex is a great way to simply enjoy what I’m doing as well as focus on running this race the way it was intended to augment my training.

It’s also on this 10k loop that I was noticing an increase in the number and size of the pools of rainwater along the course. Surrounded by redwoods on the floor of the park, the moisture simply doesn’t evaporate as well after a storm as the open ridge trails which make up the bulk of the 20k loop. I was constantly checking to make sure that as my shoes dryed out, the mud wasn’t becoming a dried cake that would add weight. After a sluggish climb up to the Ridge trail due to the mud, I picked it up coming back down from Skyline Gate through the Redwoods to ease in to the main aid station in 2:31:30 at the 30k mark. This was a minute ahead of the basic race plan I had come into the race with, which was just fine by me.

Again, I spent 2 minutes getting my gels out of my box setup on a table next to the trail, which would be way to long for a really competitive race but was just fine for this race. Heading out on the initial half mile climb, I finally felt some real sluggish in my legs. Since bruising my right forearm and scraping up my leg and hands 2 weeks ago in a fall out on the Coastal Trail, the one element of my training that suffered most were the intermediate tempo runs of 15-20 miles. It was already a hole in my training that I needed to fill, but the fall seemed to delay that training further. As I closed in on the 20 mile mark of the race, it became obvious that this is one hole that will need to filled in March.

I kept trudging along and at times moved quite fluidly. I looked back occasionly to wonder if I would see any other runner with 1^st place firmly in front. With about 3 +/- miles to go as I turned onto the Toyon Trail down toward the park floor, I was scheduled to finish 3 minutes slower than that 4:20 target assuming I finish the last section in the same time as the first 20k loop. After picking up some steam on the downhill and not seeing anyone within sight, I turned it back onto cruise control to finish the final loop in 1:53 and the race in 4:26, 2^nd overall. It wasn’t a dynamite race perse, but it was effective enough considering my health not being 100% and the conditions being as they were. The results this year are slowly taking care of themselves with a 5^th place finish at the Angel Island 25k (1:53) and now this 2^nd place finish here. At least I know that I’m on the right track as far as getting effective training to start the year. Besides, it’s always nice to see running friends out there like Mark Tanaka, who is also dealing with health issues but had enough to finish 3^rd overall.

The first two months of the year have seen me keep to my oft-stated goal to do 2-3 quality runs a week. Around those runs, I generally try to keep it easier in order to maximize my effort on the quality days of training. My wife has also been giving me the time and space to train properly, which has been a key factor in getting a good start to 2011 running-wise. I'm back down to 167 and continuing to trim down for the big races. It’s also been a really good thing for me and having my Uncle out with me at the track to keep my honest in my effort. This is just one step in the process, although I will look to a healthy Lake Sonoma 50 during the first week of April as a more serious gauge of what I should be able to do at Miwok. Hopefully I’ll have the opportunity to update some of my Miwok training here in the next couple weeks and give a more honest assessment for how I see the big race in May shaping up for me personally. For now, it’s back to training. :)

Cheers and God bless,

Gundy

Welcome to 2011

Goals for 2011

1) Raise $14,000 for development programs with WHM in Uganda
2) Speedwork or tempo runs twice a week

3) No less than 50 miles per week, including recovery weeks
4) Get weight down to 163 lb.
5) Finish well

6) Kick butt

Setting running goals for the year is often just an extension of the natural human desire to want to aspire to something. Even then, setting running goals is often a crap shoot. 12 months is light years away, making goals set in January seem rather outdated in April. Last year, I had a number of result-oriented goals that made good sense when I made them, but often failed to take into account current health and other conditions necessary to turn them into reality.

In the process of setting running goals for 2011, I realized that in order to get to where I want to go with this running experiment, I needed to do things differently. While the desire to compete well is still strong, there comes a point where you know that you can only compete well if you train well. I need my body to be at its peak condition, which means taking care to run for quality as much as it is to run for quantity this year.

Goal 1 is a given; it keeps me grounded so that whether I come in 1^st or last, my passions stretch far beyond the race course.

Goals 2 & 3 are measures of consistency and quality in my training. I want to make sure that I put in quality runs every week and that every week has the quantity necessary to sustain an excellent performance from mile 1 through mile X. I want to limit those gaps where I am losing focus and losing ground.

Goal 4 is a measure of discipline and a recognition that being excellent at one thing (running) requires discipline in all things. Diet has never been a huge issue, but the goal is really to tighten the reins on what I need to do off the course to support what I do on the course. I am a whole person and although I still need to enjoy myself, I also have to be smart if running is something that I place as a priority at this stage in my life.

Goals 5 is there to remind me that the hardest thing is life is to finish well. That last 10% of any endeavor is always the hardest to do because of the temptation to be satisfied with the first 90% and not push the pain/discomfort threshold. It is the point where there is the most to gain and the most to lose. This year, I want to be most satisfied with the last 10% of each and every race because the race doesn’t end until I break the tape. Goal 6 is just one of goals that we all want to do in each and every area of our life. There’s no secret to it, although it really preceeds from the other 5 goals on my list.

As far as my race calender for 2011, I’ve streamlined it down trying to focus on a few key goal races for the year. I needed to stremline and prioritize if I wanted to expect peak performance at those goal races. I also needed to provide ample time between races to recover (minimum 5 weeks) and get back to 100%. As of now, my goal races for 2011 are the Miwok 100k, San Diego 100, Angeles Crest 100, Firetrails 50 and an as-of-yet unidentified marathon. Although Leadville is still pending depending on the timing of a mission trip to Uganda with my wife, it’s a reasonable healthy list of races. Miwok and Firetrails are especially good tests because I get to run the trails used in these two races all the time here in the Bay Area. Other than that, I am just looking forward to reconnecting with all my running friends again out on the trails and roads and wish everyone the best for 2011. The season is upon me fast and the Redwood Park 50k is 3 short weeks away....it’s just about “go” time.

Cheers,

Gundy

The Perfect Race

Once again, it's been a little while. With the Angeles Crest 100 coming up and Western States behind me, I wanted to reprint the article/race report of mine that showed up in Ultrarunning Magazine. There's a lot I could post about my race and a lot of details there left to share, but with my current writer's block, this should give you a nice overview of what just happened.

The Perfect Race

When Roy Jones Jr. won a silver medal in boxing in the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea, it was certainly not the result that he had hoped for or even earned. I had seen a documentary about the circumstances surrounding it on television a week or two before. I hadn’t thought about it since, but at the time I remember it touching a nerve in me by how much Jones had out boxed the Korean boxer and how utterly stunned the result had left everyone on television. He had clearly given a performance worthy of the gold medal, yet in the end the record books do not read “Olympic Champion”. It was a sad irony that seemed to illustrate one of life’s enduring truths: you never get exactly what you deserve.

In the middle of the Western States 100 out on that lonely, isolated trail down to Volcano Creek from Michigan Bluff, it hit me that even if I had done everything that I thought I needed to do in this race, nothing was guaranteed. Roy Jones Jr. had fought the perfect fight and in the end it was not enough to guarantee him the result that he desired or deserved. This thought started a rather deep, internal discussion on the meaning of perfection.

At the time, I was a literal and figurative mess out there. I was being punished by a badly sprained left ankle early on going downhills and fits of nausea on the uphills. In fact, the ankle had grown so troublesome that I was intentionally avoiding pivoting on the left foot all together on downhills. A race that began with a disciplined beginning and a major ramp up from miles 32 through 44 was now cracking at the seams. The level of disgust with which I felt with myself was clearly evident to all around me, even as I strained to put my race back together again. It didn’t matter to me whether I failed at every race in 2010. After succumbing to elevation-induced sickness and general exhaustion in 2007, I was doing a poor job make amends for it here in 2010.

I had just seen my wife and a friend at Michigan Bluff, beaten down and in need of some inspiration along with a couple of new body parts. Coming away from the aid station, I steadily meandered down the trail, not concerned with much else other than trying to feel a little bit better. As the trail got steeper and more rocky near bottom of Volcano Creek, I tried to steady feet with each foot strike when Roy Jones Jr. entered my consciousness and with it a streaming internal discussion on expectation and perfection.

I had been acting like a pestilent child, not getting what I desired out of the race and choosing to wallow in my own self pity. Children lament when things don’t turn out exactly they imagine because they see things in black and white. To them, there is no acceptable outcome other than the one which they were expecting. It reminded me of times as a child watching the San Francisco 49ers play in the Super Bowl when I came close to tears more than a few times fearing possible defeat. A child sees no other outcome more important than the one they were expecting.

Maturity, in many respects, allows us to see the shades of grey in a black and white world. It sees beauty in unimagined possibilities. It also allows us to see that rarely is there a 1 to 1 correlation between the effort we put in and the results we receive. Nothing in my training or previous racing guaranteed an outcome; rather, it could only feed the internal hope for a given race.

The truth was that my family and friends who had come out to support me didn’t come just to see my post a particular time or come in a particular place. In my disappointment and disgust, I lost sight of the fact that those most important to me were there for no other reason than to support me because they loved me. I could’ve stopped right there, in my disappointment and disgust, and they would’ve loved me regardless.

We expect perfection of our imperfect selves in an imperfect world. I wanted perfection, but only the kind of perfection measured by results. I had expected the improvement in my running over the past year as well as the training and comeback from injury over the past 7 months to be rewarded with results. However, life doesn’t all of the sudden become perfect simply because we are participating in this “perfect” race. The race only magnifies the imperfections which are all around us and within us. In my moment of weakness, I had made it about myself.

I would go on to continue experiencing the nausea and the ankle instability the rest of the race, but from that moment on, it did not matter. I would continue to pursue perfection even if the results didn’t reflect it. In my struggles, there was something refreshing about knowing that I did everything I could to run the race well. Coming in second, whether that be to a competitor or to our own expectations of self, is never easy. Someone else sees the race you had while you see the race you should have or could have had. But in that final moment sprinting around the track at Placer High School Stadium, coming in 114^th never felt so good. 23 hours and 47 minutes after I started, my journey was coming to an end. I was not accepting mediocrity, but rather embracing the highest standards of sport which demand that we empty ourselves in mind, body and spirit in the pursuit of excellence. Others may be more celebrated or publicly lauded, but this was special to me because this was the day I found perfection. On that day, I had run the perfect race. Never before has taking home the silver felt so satisfying.

T-Minus 3 Days

It’s down to the wire now….the hay’s in the barn and all that’s left is to countdown to race day. Am I excited? Yeah, I am. However, it’s always tempered by the fact that 100 miles is still 100 miles. I wonder why I chose a sport that never gets easier, but I’m going to at least enjoy this one. I’m in Lake Tahoe right now getting used to the elevation and making all the last minute preparations. For people unfamiliar with the terrain and course layout, there’s two really key points that will tell you all you need to know about how my race is going: Robinson Flat (29.7 miles) and Foresthill (62 miles). If I come into Robinson in 4:30 and Foresthill in 11:45, then I’ve got a real good shot at achieving my goal time of sub-19 hours.

Thanks go out to the following people:

Crew: Wilma, Kimi, Uncle Andy (Sugar Bear) and Uncle “Mambo” Jose
Pacers: Tara, Lori
Sponsors: Injinji, Brooks, GU, NUUN

Let’s go do it :)

God bless,
Gundy

P.S. For those curious about the race or what's going on, you can go to www.ws100.com for the live webcast.

Goal Race Psychology

Miwok is over now and Western States is now upon me, so I thought it would be an excellent time to examine goal race preparation from a tactical and psychological perspective, which is a pertinent topic for all racers. With 2.5 weeks left until race day, I am pretty much as prepared as I’m going to be to execute what should be an excellent race.

One major confidence boost was the 45 miles I ran on the course on Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend, which included descending and climbing out of the canyons highlighting the major challenges of the race. My climbing was much, much better as compared to Miwok with a lot more pickup to my uphill paces. I feel much better about my sub-19 hour race goal, although I realize that success at the 100 mile distance still requires consistent execution and pushing through all the way to the end. That said, confidence runs often provide a psychological boost that one can maintain a particular effort level over the life of the run. In my case, it’s just one really long day.

One’s psychology going into a goal race can hinge on these little assurances that the body can handle the various unknowns. These unknowns come with them a certain stress that an issue which starts out as a pebble will eventually become a boulder. Alleviating this undue stress means coming into a goal race prepared. Whether it’s the food you eat or the gels you take or how fast to approach each individual segment, that preparation should be precise in detail and structure, yet flexible in execution. Life is full of surprises, so why should a race be any different? When a race presents 1000 different scenarios for how it will play out, it’s best to expect Scenario No. 1001.

Things develop so slowly in a 100 mile race that they often resemble the slow cooking a master chef employs to get the right taste. The focus always has to be on the process with the foresight to know that a good process will give you the best opportunity for good results. While the training is the major part of that process, allowing your race day plan to evolve at the race itself takes a major amount of patience and resolve. You develop your race day plan based upon the feedback you’ve received in training, and yet your body may present something different on race day itself.

I, myself, have 3 different pacing plans based on 3 different outcomes. While my race will probably end up resembling all 3 at some point, different sections of the course will yield various surprises based on how I feel and how much I’m willing to push. This is not to advocate that everyone’s best race means being conservative; rather, it’s a recognition that even with months and years of training and racing, what one is given on race day can still be a pleasant surprise or rude awakening. Those who are best at managing the necessary adjustments required are those who will psychologically be best able to weather the storms.

And if I don’t weather the storms? Well, a little divine intervention couldn’t hurt either.

2010 Miwok 100k

The anatomy of a good race report is this: It is able to tell the story of your race in a thoughtful, engaging way that makes the reader feel like they were there. I will include splits and goal splits at the end of this report, but the real story for me lies in three key events which I will describe in detail. First, though, a quick summary of the mindset and goal coming into this race.

Coming off a rather vanilla 6th place performance at Skyline To The Sea 50k, I still came into the Miwok 100k with the idea that I wanted to take it to the course. I could not simply sit back on my heels and let the course wear me down, but I needed to assert myself and run with authority. Running with authority means running assertively, particularly in those single-track and small technical sections where it is easy to lolly gag and move gingerly. I needed to run hard, to help further dust off those calves in need of a more serious race to keep the training train rolling. I had a plan for a sub-9 hour race, but having slowly worked my way back from my previous calf strain, I was looking for consistent effort in my climbing as much as anything else. Still, there was the raw realization going in that while I would be very strong on the flats and downhills, the uphills would be where many of the top runners would hold a good advantage on me. If I could limit the lost time on the uphills, I would be in great shape coming back from Bolinas. Having run every section of the course except for a small 2 mile single-track section at the outset, there would be no surprises and no need to worry about anything else other than how I was running. Since Miwok has been a popular race as a precursor to the Western States 100, there are various theories for how one can take their Miwok performance and extrapolate a projected finishing time for States. Most people double their Miwok time, although there seems to be a some amount of variation depending on how one chooses to run Miwok and how well developed is one’s endurance.

I gave myself a range to run within which would tell me if I was on or off-pace. Each range came with it an absolute limit that, based on previous years’ performances, was the theoretical cutoff. I gave myself space to run faster on some sections and slower on others, knowing that my standing relative to the range would depend on the section being run.
The plan was solid and my capabilities had been tested against various sections of the course over the last 2-3 months. While at times during my training I felt incredibly lethargic out there, I had enough excellent runs that tracked well against a couple of other 8:xx:xx performances I was baselining against. It was the same strategy that used going into the Firetrails 50 last year which served me well last October when I cruised to a 7:25, 5th place finish.

The race at Miwok played fairly true to form, highlighting both my weaknesses (uphills) and my strengths (downhills and flats). I kept a brisk pace through the early going, moving continuously on the uphills and slamming the downhills, as I am prone to do. The race played out fairly close to my expectations, minus a few minutes here or there. Having reached Pantoll Ranger Station at mile 21.7 in 2:58, I felt a bit sluggish but nothing of any major concern. I had been drinking copious amounts of fluids and devouring 270-280 calories per hour in GU. Still, the uphills started to bother me and left me wondering why I wasn’t moving faster.

Key moment #1: After having been passed by a couple other runners and slipping out of the top 10, I seemed to find my groove again on the lonely single-track Coastal Trail which slithers tightly on the steep grass hillside overlooking the Pacific. While the views are stunning, the narrow trail makes it important to not lose focus. I was quietly ticking off the miles, but started feeling sluggish on the small climbs. To a Miwok runner, what I’m describing probably seems absurd considering the relative flatness of this section. However, even as I was moving along in relative solitude, I knew there would be other runners coming up faster than I was moving.

The silence was finally shattered by the swift, easy strides of Kami Semick. Kami may be much shorter in stature, but she is built like a rock and moves fluidly over a variety of terrains. Kami would go on to finish 1st woman and 10th place overall in 9:10:29. I would go on to follow right behind Kami into the Bolinas Ridge Aid Station (mile 28.4), but after that she would fade out of view until seeing her again near Randall Turnaround (Mile 35.6).

The significance of the moment had nothing to do with getting “chicked” ( a common, light-hearted ultra term for getting passed by a woman). It was the subtle beginning for what would become my crucial undoing during this race; my relative weakness on the uphills. While I would end up losing the most great majority of time against my 9 hour goal on the 1000’ climb back from Randall, this is where I could feel the race slipping from me. Sometimes we need to see what others are capable of in order to give us perspective about what we need to do better.

Key moment #2: After Tara came aboard to pace me, I spent the section from Bolinas Ridge (Mile 42.8) back to Pantoll (Mile 49.5) getting my head together and getting back into the race. It wasn’t that there was anything specific wrong with me; I just felt incredibly sluggish on the uphills. I could’ve been slightly dehydrated since I never did drain the kidneys during the race. Even that, though, is a bit of stretch since it wasn’t accompanied with the lightheadedness and general loopiness. Tara didn’t necessarily say anything; rather, she acted as a sounding board for all my meandering thoughts. I confess that I did feel bad that I subjected her to watching me curse out a solitary coyote on the hillside for no apparent reason. But in reality, the act of being pushed subtly and working to keep myself in perpetual motion worked to get the freight train moving again. And yes, at 170 lb., I was a freight train compared to some of the sticks out there.

All of this leads me to my key moment. Coming out of Pantoll, my pep had returned and I warned Tara that I would be cranking it for the next 3 miles of mostly screaming downhill. After warming up over the 0.5 mile flat, we started cranking it over the next 0.2 mile transition trail before over 1000’ ft. of decent over 2.2 miles down Deer Park Fire Road that can best be described as an out-of-control barrel race. We took the brakes off and kept cranking with ease. Soon enough, a little more than half-way down the Fire Road, we spotted two runners about 0.2 miles ahead. Even though one turned out to be a pacer, not too much seems to motivate more than seeing “ducks on the pond”. A couple minutes later while slightly cranking the arms to get a little more momentum going, I eased on by the two guys with a polite “On Your Right”. At that moment, one of the runners looked back to his right with a shocked look on his bearded face. I’m not sure if he was shocked just to see anyone or shocked at how quickly I was coming up on him; regardless, the look was priceless. It’s the kind of look that as a competitor, you love to see. It had the exact opposite effect that Key Moment #1 had on me; downhills and flats are definitely my strength. I feel like if I had to run a marathon right now, I would definitely be in the 2:40s coming off of my 2:51 PR run last year. My quads feel strong and my ability to navigate downhill trails with ease is definitely high. Part of it comes with my simple approach to downhills; why fight gravity when it feels so good to let it ride. This will become a key point at Western States, a net downhill course.

Key moment #3: After 58.5 long miles, it was 1000’ ft. up and 1000 ft. down to the finish at Rodeo Beach. 3.7 miles of dirt between the finish and I. After righting myself somewhat on the way to Pantoll, I stayed steady the rest of the way. Yes, I was still relatively weaker on the ups and stronger on the downs. But while there was some passing and being passed, I was in 19th place overall which was right where I was coming into Pantoll. The hardest thing for any athlete is maintaining focus when the original goals are out of reach. I had reached a point where top 10 and 9 hours were not in the cards, but I still had an opportunity to maintain my position in the top 20 in this ultra competitive race (no pun intended). The final 3.7 miles is over 2 miles of climbing 1000’ and about a mile and a half of hard, steep decent to the finish at Rodeo Beach. To make things more interesting, there are a number of steps and logs to go over at various times during the descent to mix in with asphalt roadway and winding dirt switchbacks.

Starting the climb, I was in 19th place and simply wanted to maintain my position. While 18th was just a minute in front of me and still well within my reach, I simply wanted to stay ahead of any pursuers. I told Tara that if we made it up to the top of the climb first, we could cruise on in from there. This first 1.4 miles up Old Springs Trail provides fairly good footing and many parts with gradual grades allowing someone to run/jog quite a bit. Some sections have dirt stairs built into the trail to help firm them up against erosion. A couple minutes into the climb, I spotted my nearest pursuer wearing a white sleeveless top and red ball cap. I didn’t feel like climbing much, hoping that the gap between myself and the next runner was enough to allow me to coast in. Tara, though, pulled a play from my own pacing playbook to get the ball rolling. “Let’s try and run for 30 seconds.” I’ll admit; this is one that I use quite a bit to have a reluctant runner getting the legs moving again on an uphill. It’s a simple request that helps speed up the inevitable grind that uphills can become and also help a runner find their legs again.

The first few cycles, it was a bit of grind to put in the full 30 seconds of running before 30 seconds of walking. But after a few cycles, I started to feel better about the rate I was moving at. My posture become more upright, I was slouching less, and I seemed to be able to pick up my legs with a little more gusto. On the flattish ~0.4 mile section near the top, I even stopped the walking altogether and kept a nice 10 min./mile jogging rythym. This carried over to the 0.2 mile connector section on the Miwok trail and the first slight downhill before two brutally steep ascents on the Wolf Ridge trail over the next ~0.7 miles. On the first of these two ascents, I peered back to see “The Man In White”, as I took to calling him, continuing to close in with less than a quarter mile between us. I knew that with the climbs, the time difference was more significant, but I still needed to hit the top of that final ascent first.

I moved quickly on the quick 0.2 mile downhill dip before the final quarter-mile climb to the top. I could see the 2nd place woman just ahead on the climb, but once she crested I simply retrained my focus on holding off my pursuer. With scree littering the trail of this quad-busting ascent, good footing was always hard to come by. My hands latched firmly to my quads as I kept driving through each step and turning over my burning legs more quickly. Those minutes felt like a lifetime with the only thing holding my attention being my upward gaze at the end of the rocky earth under my feet and the beginning of light blue skies at the summit.

I was not disappointed, gazing out on the ocean and Rodeo Beach below with a sense of relief releasing some of the building tension. With over 25 minutes into this section, I had only a mile and a half to go until the the finish. While gingerly starting up on the steep, narrow road outlining the ridgeline, gravity quickly sucked me in to pick up the pace. A walk became a trot. A trot became a jog. Finally, a jog became a nearly out of control run with gravity as my fuel and my brake pads (quads) worn to the metal. This half-mile barrel race hits a dip, going slightly upward before returning to the dirt and fine sand. I began losing touch with Tara, focused on putting distance between myself and the “Man In White”. At the dip, I glanced back only to see him coming down the road himself about 200 yards away. I just couldn’t seem to shake him.

This is where the race becomes part obstacle course, part road race and part trail race. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but when I hit the first set of winding stone stairs, I just took off and left Tara behind with a mile to go. The coming pursuer was now close enough to see clearly but not quite close enough to touch. Tara is not the first pacer that I’ve “ditched” in the final 5-10 miles of a race; I have a clear pattern of being motivated by pursuing runners and the anticipation of the finish. My uncles earlier had clued her in that it may happen and my intimate knowledge of this section of the course makes it much easier for me to anticipate all the various pitfalls. As a more experienced trail runner, I also find that I’m much more willing to take chances on the trails than less experienced trail runners. I moved with a clearer sense of urgency, bounding down stairs and leaping over logs that left me precariously close to taking a fall. Even with a water bottle strapped to both my hands, I reigned myself in a bit half way down one set of logs to avoid a catastrophic fall.

Once away from the steps and logs, I hustled on the winding, paved fireroad leading down from the WWII-era bunker. My uncles down below watched the action with no idea that I was the runner in the black cutoff shirt being chased since they were looking for a runner in black with a pacer. Uncle Jose remarked to Uncle Andy, “Look, that guy in white is going to catch the guy in black”. The “Man in White” had closed to within 25 yards with less than a half a mile to go and although I briefly entertained the idea of coasting it in and finishing together in an show of sportsmanship typical of ultras, the speed with which he was closing made me believe that he was pushing for my placing. I responded by continuing to push as hard as I could as I entered the final 3 short switchbacks on the winding trails which lead to the parking lot.

I resisted the urge to look, realizing that I would waste more in time than I would gain in comfort. After each turn, I expected that now would be the time he would pass me. But each time, I simply got closer and closer to the finish. It wasn’t until the reaching the short, 20 yard L-shaped finishing chute at the Rodeo Beach Picnic Area that I realized I would hold him off. Making that final turn, I charged through the finish line in 9:37:09 and gave my customary silent props to the man up above.

While the official finish times reflected a 1 second gap between us, in reality the “Man In White” would come through the finish line about 10-15 seconds later. I clapped with a smile on my face, tired but happy to have had the experience. Once he crossed the finish line, I walked over to him and we both smiled before giving each other a big hug. We laughed at what a crazy journey that final 3.7 miles had been; he kept trying to hunt me down and I just wouldn’t let him have it. We pushed each other harder and were rewarded for it with a nice way to end the day. It was a great moment where two competitors, when it was all said and done, could just appreciate what had happened. The roles could’ve been reversed, but the ending would’ve stayed the same: respect for one another and a sheer joy for having been a part of an exhilarating chase to the finish line to end 9+ long hours.

In some ways, the finish line is the line between heaven and hell. It has this funny way of turning struggles into learning experiences and making triumphs grow larger. Somewhere in the retelling of the story, it takes on new meaning and foretells the necessary steps for future successes. Sure, I can needle my weaknesses from this race and talk about what it will take in the next 6 weeks to finish Western States in 18+ hours…..but I can at least take heart in the simple fact that with some well-timed words and a little push, I seem to have no trouble finding motivation. Thank you to my crew, my pacer and Tracy Moore.

God bless,
Gundy