Race Report: North Face 50k

Thanks to Andel and Dima from the Reservoir Dogs for these photos

“Oh, I’ve had better days”

That was my response to the question, “How’s it going” at the 21 mile support station during Saturday’s North Face Endurance Challenge 50k trail race. Admittedly, I was playing the line for mild comic relief, but I also have to say that it was the truth.

I suppose we’d all prefer that our experiences could be easily classified into clear, separate categories, such as: unqualified success v. abysmal failure. The fact is that my race on Saturday was neither, or maybe both … but I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.

I am not the superstitious sort, but even I have to admit that I was surrounded by portents of doom that morning. When my alarm fired at 4:20am, I stole a furtive glance out the back door to see that it was absolutely pouring rain, with occasional flashes of lightning. Of course, my left hip (which has been stiff and sore for over a month) was tight and bothering me already, not a good sign. I wolfed down some breakfast, grabbed my gear and a large umbrella, and managed to speed walk to my car without getting completely drenched. The northbound Westside Highway was partially flooded, and certainly had more traffic than one would expect for 5:00 am on a Saturday ... all of us creeping along in the middle lane, except for the homeless guy pushing an empty shopping cart up the highway in the dark in the pouring rain ... only in New York. I managed to get across the George Washington Bridge okay, but the Palisades Parkway heading north was shrouded in dense fog, a dangerous accompaniment to the still-pounding rain. My hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, I kept telling myself to relax, go with the flow, I’d get there eventually, etc. Luckily, as dawn began to break, both the rain and fog let up, so I managed to arrive at the Bear Mountain parking lot more-or-less on time. However, as I pulled in, four vultures were standing on the ground just in front of my car, staring at me. I could only imagine that they had heard about that day’s race schedule, and that they had made plans to feast on the carcass of any runner who would fall exhausted upon the trail … perhaps they were sizing me up for a potential meal later in the day.

After the requisite pre-race rituals (bathroom, petroleum jelly, re-tying shoelaces, bathroom, loading up the Fuel Belt, bathroom … you know the drill), I headed to the start area and greeted several friends from the Reservoir Dogs, a ‘sister team’ to my NYC racing team the New York Harriers. It was nice to know that I’d have friends out on the course, and it was a bonus to see that a few others had come along to spectate and support (thanks for the encouragement guys, it made a huge difference on such a long day). I was also pleasantly surprised to be approached by a couple of you who said that you’d been following this blog! Thank you, kind readers. I hope to continue to interest and inspire you.

I was determined to start slowly and run at a pace that I could sustain for about six hours, but this is new territory for me so all I could do was take my best guess. As the eager leaders bounded up the first hill, I hung back and relaxed, chatting with a couple of happy if sarcastic lads from Ireland, who eventually disappeared up the trail never to be seen by me again.

From the gun, my left hip and hamstring were bothering me so much that I could sense myself limping slightly. Not good. The fact is that I limped all day, not really what you want to be doing for an ultra. Sigh. I caught and passed an old teammate, Mike V, who was doing the race with his son. We ran together for about a mile, but eventually lost contact and I was surprised not to see them as the day wore on. I hope they had success and finished strong.

The course was, as expected, wet and rather mucky in parts. While the rain had stopped, there was still a bit of fog and mist in the air, and the trees continued to drip for most of the day. Lovely, really. The overcast skies were a godsend, because the air was quite humid and felt rather warm … sun would have led to overheating and dehydration. I enjoyed the first 16 or 17 miles, running slowly, walking the steeper uphills, trading places back and forth with a few other runners. With the exception of the lead female runner, most of us knew we weren’t competing for any prizes, we were just looking to go the distance.

Results from the race still aren’t posted (almost two days later – c’mon guys, get it together), so when they are I’ll come back to this blog and do a more detailed analysis of my race. For now, I can say that the aid stations were positioned perfectly, and well-stocked with both goodies and volunteers. I broke my race up into sections based on making it efficiently from aid station to aid station, monitoring my effort level and any potential problems along the way. I am proud not to have hit the wall or suffered a major bonk, which I chalk up to having had a large pre-race breakfast and to making sure to top off calories at each chance I got. Between aid stations, I sipped Cytomax, nibbled SportBeans, and sucked on Rolaids (good for keeping the stomach settled and for preventing muscle cramps). At the mile 21 aid station, as I tore into my drop bag and refueled, I apparently won the award for the most-food-eaten-at-an-aid-station-all-day, at least according to friends from the Reservoir Dogs.

But I’ve left out the negatives so far, I suppose I’d rather not even mention them, but then the story would be only half-told. Simply put, my left hip hurt all day. I couldn’t run normally, I had to shorten my stride and concentrate a lot of energy to prevent myself from limping. That was no fun. As the day wore on, I started to wear out. Honestly, I was good for about 20 miles. No, I didn’t drop out of the race, but after mile 20 I was clearly not the same as I was before. I was walking more frequently, my legs were feeling a bit dead, and I was basically in the just-keep-moving mode.

We never like to admit our limits. I think there is a deeply-ingrained aspect of the American ethos (mythology?) that is instilled in us from the moment we arrive: you can do anything you want if you just try hard enough. The question: is that really true? Or, more poignantly and philosophically, how could we possibly be so naïve to think that it could be true?

I’ve run 15 races of marathon length or longer. In all of them, without exception, I find that I can hold everything together pretty well until about 20-22 miles, then it all starts to unravel. The objective observer would ask, “When are you going to admit that your physiology just isn’t made for going past 22 miles?”

Someday, perhaps.

As I get older, and slower, I have begun to hang my hat on the thought that I can just move up in distance, and still be competitive. You know what? It’s not really happening.

I completed the 50k race on my feet, a bit stiff but still moving. I think I can take pride in having finished a tough course on a wet, muddy day. Okay, so it took me 6 hours and 13 minutes. Not exactly what I had in mind. I really don’t know what place I finished, but I’d guess around 30th to 40th. Hopefully they’ll get results posted before too long, because I’m curious about it. When they do finally get published, make sure to take a look at the excellent races run by Ryan and Ben from the Reservoir Dogs, who garnered first and second places overall, and by their teammate Silke, who was third woman overall. Truly impressive running, and results they can be proud of for a very long time.

Post-race, I sat at a picnic table with those three and other enthusiastic friends, and we recounted our experiences in short bursts between sips of water and bites of salty food. I had ambivalent feelings about the day. I’d made it, that was an accomplishment. But I’d walked more than I’d wanted to, and I’d just plain felt tired and worn out for the last third of the race. I wondered then, as I still do now, if perhaps I’m just not cut out for doing events of this kind of distance and duration. Truth be told, I enjoy more, and have had more success, at trail races between 15k and 25k in length … and if I just had enough sense to remember that I’d be in good stead, right?

Ah, but I’m just another stubborn runner. I’ll quite probably never learn.

Congrats to everyone who conquered that course yesterday, whether fast or slow. You deserve to feel good about what you accomplished. I’ll be back with more on this event once results are posted.

North Face 50k Recon, Part 3

With the North Face Endurance Challenge 50k Trail Race coming up on May 9, I have been making time to get to Bear Mountain/Harriman State Park to traverse the entire route as preparation. In previous postings, I described some of the challenges of the first 7 miles and last 9 miles of the course. That left the middle 14 miles as unexplored (at least for me). My chance to cover those miles came last Sunday afternoon, following the short trail race I ran that morning.

It’s somewhat hard to decide how objective I can be about this latest recon mission. First of all, I was a bit tired from running all-out in mud that morning. Second of all, it was a cool, breezy, misty day, which left the course a bit sloppy and the rocks quite slick; I didn’t fall, but I came close a couple of times, very close. Still, even taking all of that into account, I think it’s pretty safe to say that the middle 14 miles of this race course include the most technical and difficult (and in two cases actually a bit dangerous) portions of the course.

I actually ran 17 miles of the course, from the 3.9 mile mark to the 20.9 mile mark, according to the race booklet. Having run a race earlier in the day, I think I took on a little too much in the afternoon, because I ended up running out of fuel and bonking at about 14 miles. That made for some slow slogging and uphill walking during the last 3 miles, but I suppose I should be glad that it was my energy level and not my legs that gave out on me. Even my sore right hamstring, which had really bothered me in the race, seemed to hang in there just fine at the slower pace of this trail run.

As far as the course, it’s pretty easy from the Anthony Wayne Recreation Area for about 3 miles until you pick up the Ramapo-Dunderberg/AT trail. This is technical singletrack folks, with typical east coast rocks and roots and the need for you to choose carefully your every foot fall. You ascend, then descend, and the last hundred meters down to the shelter at the next trail intersection is very treacherous: on this wet day, it was downright dangerous. You basically hop down some boulders, but they are scattered at odd angles and there are no good hand holds anywhere … be very careful here, a fall is possible and injury likely if that happens!

The next couple of miles, ending up at Silvermine Lake, are nice, and especially a short section just after the lake along soft pine needles. After you cross Seven Lakes Drive, it’s a long slow climb on a fire road to hook up with the Long Path, which puts you back into technical singletrack and several significant climbs and descents for a few miles. The danger zone comes right after passing the Stockbridge Shelter (on your left at the top of a large rock outcropping), where you once again have to hop down and around a few boulders … on this day those rocks were wet and slippery, and the hikers who were holed up in the shelter shook their heads at me as I slipped and skidded down. Eventually, you hook up with the AT again via a short unmarked trail, and emerge on Arden Valley Road. You plunge downhill on the road (ugh!) to Tiorati Circle, then head right back uphill on the road straight across. Navigation got weird at that point, as a completely unmarked and unmapped trail is supposed to take you into the woods to hook up with Ramapo-Dunderberg again … I don’t know if I took the right trail, but I managed to get there. You aren’t long on the RD before you turn off on another unmarked trail, and this one is a bit of an adventure. It’s completely overgrown with underbrush (looks like blueberry bushes and other low bushes), and there must be at least 20 trees that have fallen down across the trail that you have to jump over (update: ran that section of trail again on 4/5/09, and simply counted the downed trees that I had to step over ... 74. No kidding). Luckily, it trends almost entirely downhill. Lucky also that the race will be taking place in the spring, because by summer that trail is going to be so overgrown you won’t be able to see it (although snacking on the blueberries would be nice).

The remainder of this part of the course is actually quite nice and very runnable … of course, as I mentioned earlier I simply hadn’t eaten enough pre-run so I ended up speed-hiking parts. What I’ll need to remember is to stay relaxed and on pace through this area during the race. As I’ve written before, my common mistake in longer trail races is that I tend to pick up the pace mid-race, not because I’m trying to do so, but because I’m just enjoying myself so much and I get into a sort of rhythm that is just a little too fast. Because this section of the course, which will be from about 17 to about 21 miles on race day, is fairly easy I will have to be careful to hold back.

So, at this point I’ve seen the entire 50k course, and I am both impressed and a little nervous about the race. There are a few really difficult spots, and certainly a half-dozen places where a navigational error would be very easy. Hopefully, the course will be marked well enough for that not to be a real problem, but only race day experience will answer that. If you are running one of the races on May 9, best of luck to you. I hope we all have decent weather and great races.

North Face 50k Recon Mission

North Face Endurance Challenge New York: 50k Bear Mountain Course Recon

I headed north to Bear Mountain State Park yesterday to scout the trails that will be used in the North Face Endurance Challenge New York 50k scheduled for May 9, 2009. I’ve run some of the trails at Bear Mountain/Harriman over the years, but not quite in the direction/combination that they are using for the race.

I began the day at the starting line of the race and headed out to cover the first 7ish miles of the course. At that point, I cut across due east on the AT (up and over a couple of peaks), and picked up the race course again for about the final 8 miles. I’m hoping to head back in the next few weeks to run the rest of the course (miles 7-23).

Most of the parts I ran were “runnable”, with plenty of wider trails and a sprinkling of technical single track. In addition, the saw-tooth profile is accurate: this thing is never flat, you are either going up or going down nearly all the time. The course descriptions in the North Face Endurance Challenge handbook are fairly accurate, although the navigational directions lack distances, which made for a few head-scratching moments yesterday (e.g. “turn left on ski trail” … um, which one?). In all, I think I made three wrong turns, and only the first one was really significant (and a stupid move on my part, I missed an obvious blaze). One thing I've noticed at Harriman over the years: there are plenty of unmarked trails shooting off in many directions. I suppose that comes with the many years that the main trails have been open, and the fact that the park is criss-crossed with automobile roadways that hikers want to connect to by cutting their own paths. At any rate, you need to keep your eyes open and make sure you follow the right blazes, or you can get off-course in a hurry.

I haven’t done this North Face event before, so I don’t know how well the organizers will mark the course beforehand. There are a couple of tricky nav spots in the first five miles, but only the second one is missing any kind of signage (it’s the turn off of Seven Lakes Drive onto Silvermine Ski Road). I missed that one completely, but I knew I was supposed to be crossing the creek that was about 100 meters from the road … so when I spotted the footbridge off to my left, I just bush-whacked over and was back on course.

Over the final 8 miles, there are three sections that are going to cause me some problems. The first is a short section of technical and narrow single-track on the Bear Mountain trail (yellow blazes) heading uphill, followed immediately by the second: a toenail-blackening descent on the same trail (did these people never hear of switchbacks?). The final tricky section is the descent off Timp Pass on the old woods road, which has been eroded over time and is now just a path strewn with fist-sized, sharp, loose rocks. I was slipping and skidding down that thing and nearly fell twice … that’s going to be fun during the race when it comes around the 26 mile mark.
On the final mile back to the finish, there are a couple of angled cross-trails that can throw off navigation, too. Keep your head up.

My assessment: Despite several sections of fairly easy trails, this race is going to be pretty tough overall. I’m looking forward to it while at the same time a bit nervous, which is probably appropriate. I find that the hardest thing for me to do in these longer trail races is hold back over the middle third of the race. I do pretty well being patient and eating/drinking for the first third, but I tend to get into a kind of rhythm in the middle third, run too hard, not take in enough calories, then pay for it over the final third of the race. I hope to practice a little more patience on May 9. We’ll see.