Tuesday, October 20, 2015

UTMX - A Foreign Perspective


My brother-in-law, Guy, invited Meggin and I down to his place in Mexico City earlier this summer to run a trail race in the mountains north of the city.  After a few conversations of “Should we go?  Maybe it’s too much with the kids and schedules?  Tickets are a lot of money? Is it a wise decision?  Are we going to get kidnapped?"  We said, “What the heck, lets GO!" 

Fast forward several months, all the training and preparation completed, we boarded a plane towards Mexico City.  It’s always amazing to spend time alone with Meggin sans kids and always great to see family and experience new things.  After a quick flight, we arrived in Mexico City and spent the next hour or so driving maybe 10 kilometers to Guy and Natalia’s place.  To say the traffic is bad would be a gross understatement.  The traffic is horrific.  The City is a maze that really doesn’t make sense.  Oftentimes, the way you go someplace is not the same way you come back.  Strange.
 
The next day we headed north to Huasco de Ocampo, a “magical” town about 130 kilometers from the City in the Mexican state of Hildago.  “Magical” is an official designation the government imparts on cities that have historical significance.  The drive out of the City was slow but very interesting.  Large buildings and apartments quickly gave way to small shanty town type structures.  Half-finished but livable and occupied.  The hillsides were flooded with homes similar to what Tijuana looks like just crossing the border.  The town before heading into the mountains was Pachuca, famous for being the first city to have a professional futball team in Mexico. 
 
As we headed up the mountain, the elevation didn’t change much which is unusual for me.  Mexico City is 7,500 feet above sea level.  Huasca de Ocampo is similar.  After a quick lunch in Omitlan we made it to Huasca de Ocampo.  Magical is a great term for this quaint cobble stone street town.  Looks more European than Mexican.  Old concrete brick buildings all surrounded the main street and square.  Restaurants and “make-shift” restaurants lined the streets serving an assortment of Mexican fare.  The only mainstream establishment was Santa Clara Coffee and Ice Cream.  Santa Clara is a famous place in this part of Mexico for its original ice cream and cheese.  Anyways, the town was fantastic and full of excitement.  Over 1,000 runners had signed up for what was quickly becoming Mexico’s premier trail race.  The Ultra Trail de Mexico or UTMX offered three races; 15k fun run, 50k light ultra, and a 100k ultra.  Meggin and Oriana (our niece) were running the 15k, Natalia was running her first ultra, the 50k, and Guy and I were running the 100k.
 

After picking up our race bib and swag we headed to our cabana which was just outside the town.  The cabana was a 2 room standalone building with a sitting area outside.  Nice accommodations and just what we needed.  After a restless night of sleep, Guy and I woke up at 4 am and prepared ourselves both mentally and physically for the challenge ahead.  I really wasn’t nervous.  I had trained well and had the confidence of just finishing a 100 mile race a few months before.  I thought, “100k – no problem.  Should be doable and way easier than Angeles Crest!”  Plus, Guy told me (and the website concurred) the climbing was only 9,000 feet or so.  That is nothing for a long trail race.  Well, I should’ve been nervous and the climbing – ummm, just a bit beyond the 9,000 feet.  Later, my watch showed over 17,000 feet of climbing.  Steep, rocky, multiple river crossings, high elevation, exposed sections of heat, and many, many miles of runnable terrain all make UTMX a very challenging course.

 

Just before 5 am on race morning it felt like a rock concert at the start line.  Pitch black and ‘80’s rock blaring through the speakers.  Flashes from hundreds of selfies and hugs/high fives everywhere.  It was awesome.  Guy and I followed suit and then said our goodbyes (or so I thought).  Earlier in the week, Guy made the mistake of saying he expects a top 10 finish for me (I’m sure he was slightly joking).  Being the competitive guy I am, I actually believed him.  So, I headed up to the front of the race with the fast people and said a prayer asking God for mercy J.  After a few words of encouragement from the race director, all of which in Spanish and unknown to me, the race was on.  The first ¼ mile or so was on the cobble stone and very slippery from the downpour earlier in the morning.  To my surprise, the front of the pack was rough.  Shoving and pushing and jockeying for position which I thought funny given the 62 miles we had to travel.  It was like an all-out sprint for some people.  I quickly relented and found a good rhythm away from the front pack.  After a bit on the pavement, we headed up a dirt road and what looked like the backyards of some of the local residents.  Mild climbing at the start then a mild downhill.  I followed a group of 25 or so and we were doing 7:45/minute miles.  Way too fast to start but again I was thinking top 10.  Foolish.  The other thing Guy said was to follow the course markings NOT the people.  He said that is recipe for disaster.  Well, I did the opposite of that and followed about 25 or so runners to a locked gate about a mile down the road.  Lost in the first 2.5 miles of the race.  The group quickly turned around and climbed up the hill that we came down.  The getting lost and adding mileage wasn’t the bad part.  It was the 150-200 runners that were now in front of us.  We made it to the actual course via the bobbing head lamps and made our way down the valley.  It was slick rock that turned into single track.  The 7:45 minute pace was now closer to 20:00 minutes.  Over the first river crossing the pace was even slower.  I was in gridlock hell and not moving.  Downed trees and shrubs on the trail caused confusion and the mid to back of the pack runners were taking their time which was a great idea but one that I was not in favor of.  I tried to pass people but quickly found out it wasn’t a good idea.  I was flanked by a barbed wire fence on one side and a river and drop off on the other.  It was still pitch black and I just accepted the fact that it was going to be slow going until I hit a fire road/wider trail.  After 45 minutes, the trail opened up and I started my move.  I didn’t stop running for 3-4 miles and passed a lot of runners.  I was feeling good.

The good feeling turned to slight panic when I saw Guy in front of me.  It was about 6.5 miles in and it was then I realized that I was behind.  Way behind.  I didn’t expect to see Guy until the finish.  Don’t get me wrong, it was great to see him but remember I had “top 10” in my brain.  Ahead of Guy was a train of people.  I had my work cut out.  Guy looked great and was moving well.  He was as shocked to see me as I was to him.  We talked for a few seconds and then I was on my way to try to redeem myself.

Runner after runner.  I kept charging and ran up hills that I generally would power hike especially in the early stages of a race.  I didn’t care.  I wanted to move up and move up quick.  It was 2 hours into the race and still pitch black.  My headlamp was fading but I was hopeful that dawn was coming. 

I quickly went through the first aid station.  Told the volunteers my number, in English, and kept going.  I barely stopped long enough to fill up my handheld with water.  I was on a mission.  The volunteers were amazing all day.  As soon as they realized I didn’t speak nor understand Spanish, they spoke to me in English.  Super helpful and super kind.  All of them.

I kept moving and finally the darkness turned to light.  It was misty out and the trail was wet but it was warm.  Probably high 60’s low 70’s.  Great temperature for me.  I was at 22 kilometers or so.  The trail headed up a steep climb up to the highest point of the race.  I looked at my watch and it was 9,350 feet.  Really beautiful rock formations and I’m sure the views would’ve been fantastic except the whole area was covered in clouds.  I kept focused and continued on the journey.  The ridge running lasted a bit until the first descent.  Technical single track on loose dirt and rocks.  It was great to let gravity do its thing for a while.  I was feeling good and still passing people.

The hours seemed like minutes as is the case when running ultras.  I was 4 hours in and remember really enjoying the surroundings.  By this point, probably 40 kilometers, I was starting to separate from other runners.  The passing was now limited to one runner every once in a while.  I estimate that I passed 100+ runners after seeing Guy at the 10k mark.  It was unfortunate as I knew the pressing was going to catch up with me at some point.  I was alone for big chunks now and enjoying listening to music.  U2, Coldplay, Maroon5, Frank Sinatra, Tommy Walker, Muse, Hozier, TobyMac.  It’s a weird mix but keeps me focused and relaxed.  The kilometers kept going and before I knew it, the trail opened up.

The mountain section was over and the canyon was coming.  Coming up to the 50 kilometer aid station, the course veered from single track and lush terrain to dirt road and pavement.  It was a long 5 kilometer section here but I knew I was almost halfway done.  I passed two more runners and was moving well on the flat terrain.  Coming into the 50k station I spoke with an older gentleman that I met at the bib pick-up the night before.  He was a friend of Guy’s.  (As an aside, Guy is a rock star in the ultra-trail community.  Everyone knows him.  From the volunteers to the runners to the race director, Guy seemed to know them all.)  I asked him how many runners have passed before me and he said about 50 or so.  Shoot!  I had passed so many people and still had so many to go.  Bad news was the field was really thinned out.  Other than a few runners at the aid station, I only saw 1 other guy ahead of me.  I remember thinking that I was running out of time.  The top 10 dream was just that.

The flat of the road gave way to fields of wildflowers.  In fact, the course ran right on top of them.  The narrow track ran adjacent to a concrete drainage ditch.  It wasn’t clear whether to run in the ditch or the field.  As I entered this section from the road, I tripped right into a cactus.  I pulled a few needles from my knee and kept going.  Earlier in the race I tripped and went shoulder first into the side of the mountain.  No harm done on both falls thankfully. 

 
 
From the halfway point to 60 kilometers (and after the drainage ditch section), the course stayed on a dirt road.  Guy kept telling me the canyon section was the best.  I had no clue what he was talking about.  6 hours into the race and still no canyon.  It just looked like flat dusty roads ahead.  Every 500 feet or so I kept seeing blue signs on the side of the road.  They were in Spanish.  Ahead of me I saw a runner veer off the road just before one of the blue signs.  I decided to follow him and to my amazement, the canyon!  I had been running 20-30 feet from a 1,000 foot cliff for 4 miles and had no clue.  Between the road and the canyon were tall shrubs and trees.  The canyon was basically the Grand Canyon of Mexico.  It’s absolutely incredible.  Finally, I made it to the 60k aid station and the famous Pena rock.  More on this to come.  I hydrated and ate a bit of fruit and pretzels and was off again on the dirt road.  This time, though, the dirt road was short and the trail led right into the canyon. 

The trail was steep and rocky, similar to the Middle Sam Merrill Trail on the AC100 course.  It was about 12:30 pm and the clouds were gone.  The views of the canyon were stunning.  It was hard to not stop and take it all in.  I passed another runner here and then the trail was mine.  I didn’t see another runner for the next few hours.  I finally made it to the bottom of the canyon only to be directed by an elderly Mexican lady with a young child sitting on the rocks.  She pointed to the left and I followed.  Not sure who she was or if she was part of the crew but I did what she said and meandered through the rock bed.  I came across a red ribbon and knew I was on the path or at least the right area.  Not much of a path here.  The flat quickly turned straight up and I was climbing out of the canyon.  I was on all fours at some points and crawled up and up.  By the time I made it to the top, I was descending again to San Sebastian and kilometer 67.5. 

I had been waiting for this aid station for several hours.  My lone drop bag was here and I was dying to get new shoes and socks on.  They had been wet since 6 am and it was now 2 pm ish.  I loved the volunteers here.  They gave me a chair and I was able to change.  I hadn’t felt this good all day.  Nothing like new shoes, socks, and a shirt.  They also offered me a beer which I declined.  San Sebastian is a really cool place.  Not sure if it’s a town but there were local people all around including the police checking bibs, with machine guns in hand, as runners came into the station.  There were also plenty of folks enjoying cervezas and the music from a festival close by.  As I was leaving the station, the fireworks started.  They didn’t stop for over an hour.  Very cool in the beginning and absolutely annoying after 45 minutes.  Leaving San Sebastian was a dirt road that zig zagged up.  Being a newbie, I had no idea what I was in for.  Switchback after switchback after switchback, the road was never ending.  I was passed by a runner here but didn’t care.  It was hot and dusty and I was just hiking up.  I’m not sure how long the road was but it felt like 3-4 miles. It took me almost 1 ½ hours to get out of the canyon.

After a small aid station at the 78 kilometer mark, the trail headed into a beautiful mountainside of more wildflowers and small homes.  I really liked this section.  Really stunning views.  I passed a cow in the middle of a road that was tied up but had free reign of the trail.  The cow didn’t seem to mind.  He kept eating the grass and flowers.  Right after the cow, I saw a rancher tilling his field old school.  Two horses pulling a metal till and the rancher behind.  He looked bugged that the race was going by his farm.  I kept going, up and down another section and made it to the 80 kilometer station by 4 pm.  The volunteer said the trail ahead is very steep for 2 kilometers and then goes through a deep river crossing.  He said someone will be there to help.  Well, he was right.  The 2 kilometers downhill was cobble stone with grass in between.  Difficult to gain traction and a bit slippery.  After passing a rugged half built home, the trail turned into very steep single track.  In fact, there was a rope that you had to use to get down.  A short section then the river crossing.  The river was moving quickly and again you had to use the rope to get across.  It wasn’t deep, maybe knee level, and cold but felt really good.  My dry shoes from 20 kilometers ago were now drenched. 
 

The last aid station at 90 kilometers was located in another quaint town.   I was told here that I was in 25th place.  I would learn later that the information wasn’t correct.  It was more like 35th place.  Either way, I was pleased with how many people I passed from the morning blunder.  After another climb from the aid station, I was close to Las Prismas.  I didn’t really know what this place was until the next day.  Las Prismas is a park that is frequented by thousands of people each year.  Las Prismas or the prisms are rock formations that resemble prisms that appear on the side of the canyon (ala Devil’s Postpile in Mammoth).  They were incredible.  I ran close to the side of the canyon only separated by an old chain link fence.  The trail then ran over a swinging bridge to the other side and up and out of the park.  At the end of the park, a volunteer was guarding a gate and only allowing runners to exit (this seemed strange to me at the time but I found out later that the park generally costs 50 pesos ($3) to enter; she was making sure no one gained free entrance).  From here we hiked up a side of a hill only to find out it was a levy holding water from the lake we were about to circumnavigate.  It was 5:45 or so here and the sun was getting lower in the sky.  It glistened off the lake and made the pain in my legs subside for a minute.  The trail ran through water and mud and finally to the pavement.  Huasca was just ahead.  Finally after 12 ½ hours.

I ran by myself on the pavement with shouts of “animal” from the cars passing by.  I thought they were calling me an animal (in a good way).  Turns out I was hearing it wrong, of course.  The English translation was to remain courageous and brave.  I must have heard that term 50+ times before the finish.  Just before the town, the course turned again and headed down the road only to go back up again.  Another climb but at this point I could hear the finish line and the announcer shouting. 

After a quick turn, I was back on the cobble stone streets of Huasca de Ocampo.  It was so great to see Meggin, Natalia, Oriana, Dalva, and Guy’s friends at the finish.  It was quite a journey and one that lasted 13:32:43.  Good for 33rd place and 11th in my division.  It was not the outcome I wanted but the best I could do.  A few hours later, Guy crossed the finish line beating his previous time at UTMX by 2 hours.  Quite an accomplishment.  Meggin and Oriana finished the 15k fun run several hours before and Natalia completed her first ultra.  Lots of smiles all around!

The next day, we went back to Pena and Las Prismas.  It was neat to see these places in a better state of mind.  At Pena we zip lined across the canyon and enjoyed a “chilada” while reminiscing about the previous day.  Las Prismas was equally amazing.  We hiked down to the bottom and enjoyed a local favorite – corn in a cup with mayonnaise and chili spice.  So good.  An amazing day and one that I will cherish.
 
UTMX for me was more than a race.  From the hurriedness of Mexico City to the laziness of Huasca de Ocampo and to everything in between, it was an experience of a lifetime.  I cannot wait for the next adventure.

Some things I learned in Mexico…

·         Chips and Salsa is not a thing. Salsa yes but chips no.
·         Margaritas are not the official drink of Mexico.  Never saw one.
·         Cheese and potatoes quesadillas and barbacoa tacos are a breakfast staple.
·         The park by Guy & Natalia’s house is for lovers only.  I’ve never seen so many public displays of affection ever.
·         Uber is the best.
·         The place is as safe as Los Angeles (ok maybe not but close).  I never felt uneasy or scared.
·         The people are the warmest and most kind I’ve met.
·         Family is above all else.

 

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Personal Records


Personal Records

Half Marathon     1:27:13        Fontana Half Marathon, June 2013

Marathon           2:59:37        LA Marathon, February 2016

50K                      5:03:10        Bulldog 50k, August 2014

50 Mile                8:48:35        Leona Divide 50 Mile, April 2016

100k                   11:30:34        Sean O’Brien 100k, February 2017

100 Mile            24:46:48        Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run, August 2015

Monday, August 24, 2015


Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run, August 1st – 2nd, 2015

My Story…

 

“Get Outta Here!”  That’s how my AC100 mile run started.  It was exactly 5 am on August 1st and 176 runners were standing in anticipation, and probably fear, for those words to be spoken.  AC100 is arguably one of the toughest 100 milers in the Country.  Over 19,000 feet of climbing and 24,200 feet of descent.  If the elevation change doesn’t get you scared, the heat will.  Through the canyons and passes, it’s not uncommon for the temperatures to be 85 degrees plus. 

 

Exactly 365 days prior, I heard those same words as my brother-in-law, Guy, was preparing for his first 100 miler at Angeles Crest.  I was crewing and pacing him that day with no real desire to ever run a 100 mile race.  Fast forward 31 hours to the finish line and my wife, Meggin, and our family were there to welcome us.  It was an unbelievable moment and one that I’ll never forget.  As soon as Guy crossed the line, Meggin had the great idea to encourage me to sign-up for the 2015 race.  In fact I recall her saying, “You have to sign-up!”  So, I obliged and signed-up the next day promptly at 12 noon.  10 minutes later, the race was sold out and the nerves began. 

 

AC was all I could think about regarding my running.  My coach, Chris Vargo, prepared a running plan for several races over the next 12 months – Bulldog 50k in August, Canyon City Marathon in November, Sean O’Brien 100k in February, Boston Marathon in April, and Bighorn 52 miler in June – with AC being the goal race.  I followed the plan almost exactly; 6 days per week with multiple work-out type runs.  I probably averaged 70 miles per week over the 12 months with 93 miles as the high week.  Almost each race I ran, I had a personal best.  I nearly broke 3 hours in Boston (3:01:12) and came in 14th place at a tough Bighorn course (9:59:10).  The training plan was working.  I was getting stronger and faster and more importantly, I was getting mentally tough.  As AC approached, the doubts set-in but all I could say to myself was, “I’ve done the work” and “to just trust it”.  However, with all the training and racing, the most I have ever run was a 100k or 62 miles.  Jumping to 100 miles is another huge milestone and not one my body and mind have ever experienced.  Was I ready?
Pre-Race Prayer
 
It was dark outside on race morning and fairly humid with temperatures in the low-60’s.  My day started at 3:45 am with the typical race set-up; bathroom, body glide, toast, bathroom, water, bathroom, etc.  At 4:15 am my trusty crew – Meggin, Heidi, Carlin, Bella, and Maddie – and I headed to the Wrightwood Community Center for check-in and the customary invocation from Uncle Hal.  It was the calm before the storm.  I was really nervous and my stomach was already a mess.  Excitement in the community center was palpable and all the runners and crew were ready to go.
 
 
 
 
As the mass of runners headed north on Park Drive to Apple Avenue, the pack already seemed to thin out.  In the dark of the morning, I settled into a nice rhythm and enjoyed the short, very short, time on the pavement.  As I reached Acorn Drive, the pavement quickly turned to single track of loose rock, dirt, and tall trees.  One of the giants of the sport, Andy Jones-Wilkins, wrote some advice prior to the race; absolutely walk the Acorn trail.  I heeded his advice and remained calm and patient and did as he said. 
 
Heading up Acorn Trail to the Pacific Coast Trail, the sunrise appeared, gorgeous as ever.  Truthfully, I don’t recall many of the early miles.  Maybe it was the dark or just the sheer excitement that the day was finally here.  Who knows but soon the ascent turned to descent and the miles kept going.  Up and over a few mountains, and the first aid station – Inspiration Point – was in view.  In my preparation, I estimated a time window for every aid station so Meggin and the crew would have an idea on when to be on the lookout.  I based the schedule on a crazy goal of breaking 24 hours (only @ 15 runners break 24 hours each year) and more realistic goal of 27 hours.  I told Meg that I would be at Inspiration Point (mile 9.3) between 7:00 – 7:15 am.  I wore a watch but didn’t turn on the GPS so I really had no idea how fast or slow I was going.  I also had no idea where I was in the race.  I just told myself to take it easy for the first 52 miles so that when my first pacer, Rob, joined me I had some legs left (and, 52 miles was just over half way – yikes!). 
 
Running down the single track to Inspiration Point, I could hear the girls yelling my name.  It was 7:03 am.  I was so happy to see them all.  It was early in the race but I already knew it was going to be a great day.  The girls were so encouraging and before I knew it, I was climbing the next mountain.  In and out in less than a minute. 
 
It was clear to me that after Inspiration Point, my focus was not on the 100 miles nor what I had left to run but just the next station.  My mantra was, “Get to the next aid station and all will be good”.  That remained my focus.  The next section was 4.5 miles.  I ran some miles with a guy named Jason from Colorado.  He seemed to know all the heavy hitters – Timothy Olson, Scott Jurek, Killian Jornet, etc.  He was a wealth of knowledge and encouraged me to just keep eating.  He was super helpful and really fun to run with.  Before I knew it, Vincent Gap was there.  Same screams from the girls and what I remember from them was that I was doing well and in the top 3rd of the race.  13.8 miles down and I was feeling very good.  The schedule said I would arrive between 7:40 – 7:50.  I arrived at 7:48.  I was on schedule.  I was also doing great with my nutrition.  Drinking a ton of Tailwind (250 calories/25 ounces) and a lot of water.
 
The next section had me scared.  It was 12.1 miles up and over Mt. Baden-Powell (9,399 feet).  I had never run this section, in fact I hadn’t run the first 52 miles of the course, and I heard from multiple friends that it was brutal.  That the altitude was a factor.  After 41 switchbacks, I finally reached the top and turns out, the altitude and the switchbacks were not that bad (maybe because I power hiked/walked to the topJ).  I passed quite a few runners towards the crest of Baden-Powell and was excited for the long descent.  It was absolutely beautiful.  Long, narrow, single track meandering through trees and shrubs.  My favorite part of the course.  After 2 hours and 46 minutes, I made it to Islip Saddle, mile 25.9.  I arrived at 10:35 am and close to my scheduled time of 10:30.  Now, the morning coolness was over and the heat was starting.
 
Next stop was Eagle’s Roost.  It was 4 miles from Islip up and over Mt. Williamson.  My thought was, “4 miles, no problem.”  Man, was I wrong.  This may have been one of the hardest 4 miles of my life.  The ascent was slow, tough, and hot.  I must have passed a group of 25 hikers and didn’t see any other runner till Eagle’s Roost.  On the descent down, I passed another hiker, a Chinese lady probably in her 60’s, singing beautifully.  It was such a nice change to the rigor of the run and helped me put this whole thing in perspective.  The mountains are there to enjoy.  They are amazing and a gift to each of us.  Just before Eagle’s Roost (mile 29.9), I caught 2 runners.  It was 11:37 and I was now ahead of schedule.  After 4 minutes, I was in and out, and headed down the 3 miles of Angeles Crest Highway to the Cooper Canyon campground.  I was fortunate to run a few miles with Andy Kumeda.  I recognized him from other races and it was his 10th straight AC.  He’s run 50+ 100 mile races.  A true legend.  I loved running with him.  At this point, I was 32 miles in and was feeling a bit tired.  Definitely a low point and Andy helped get my mind refocused.  After a quick pit stop, I ran through the campground and began the long ascent to Cloudburst Summit.  I passed Andy on the way up and ran by myself for a while.  I heard running out of Cooper Canyon was hot and steamy.  Everyone was right.  It was uncomfortably hot, really dusty, and not fun.  Just before the summit, I saw a few runners coming.  I picked up the pace and made it to Cloudburst (mile 37.5) at 1:36 pm.  Still on track and in 29th place.  Cloudburst was the first time I heard that multiple runners had already dropped from the race.  I was shocked but I knew this course was no joke and if you didn’t train properly, it would be a suffer fest.  I was out in 5 minutes and headed to Three Points.  I remember clearly that I only had 2 more aid stations till Chilao and the chance to run with Rob.  I was excited.
 
The trail to Three Points was fast.  Mostly downhill on a fire road.  I passed a few more runners early on and then felt all alone.  Not in a depressing way but in a serene way.  I came to a campsite thinking it was the next station but it was just a campsite in the middle of nowhere.  I kept going and then took a head first crash.  Thankfully, I was running with 2 handheld water bottles which took most of the fall but it definitely woke me up.  I wiped off the small rocks that made their way all over me and just like that, Three Points was there.  From first view, Three Points seems close but it’s probably a mile or so away.  I heard the girls yelling which gave me a shot of adrenaline.  Across the street and up a steep single track, I made it to Three Points in 53 minutes.  Another 5 miles down and 42.7 miles for the day.  It was at Three Points that I started feeling the effects of running for 9 ½ hours.  I was hot, tired, and knew the day was just starting.  I sat in the chair for a bit and after 16 minutes, the longest break all day, I finally left.  Next stop for me was Mt. Hillyer (mile 49).  Next stop for the crew was Chilao (mile 52.8), which serves as the halfway point and basically the last crew access till Chanty Flats at mile 75 (there’s actually one final station but it’s close to Chilao and a lot smaller than Chantry).
 
I was mostly alone leaving Three Points and didn’t see anyone till the asphalt road to Mt. Hillyer.  This section seemed to take forever.  I was passed by 3 or 4 runners as I was mostly walking up the steep road.  It was almost 4 pm and the heat of the day was upon me.  I finally made it to Mt. Hillyer aid station at 4 pm and was the only runner there.  The volunteer jokingly asked if I wanted some Tapatio sauce to go with my fruit.  For those that don’t know, Tapatio is super spicy or at least looked super spicy to me.  I laughed and about threw up from the thought of it.  I was in and out in a few minutes and knew I had just over 3 miles left to Chilao.  I was feeling good and my spirits were high.  After a very steep climb, I was quickly descending to Chilao.  I started seeing some hikers in this section which really helped.  I knew that they couldn’t have hiked too far out of Chilao without any water/supplies.  I was close.  My quads still felt good and I was tired but felt like I had a lot of life left in me.  I made it to the asphalt road and saw my daughters (Maddie too) and Rob waiting for me.  The four of us ran to the aid station and the assortment of food at the tents.  After chicken noodle soup, a change of socks and shirt, Rob and I were off.  Rob was like a drill sergeant.  He handed me my water bottles and basically, dragged me out of Chilao.  That’s exactly what I needed!  Staying long in Chilao is the death nail.  Many a runner called it quits at Chilao, this year and previous years.  I was not one of them.  After 6 minutes, we were gone.  It was 4:58 and I was still right on track with the schedule.  Next stop was Shortcut Saddle and mile 59.3.
 
Almost to Shortcut Saddle
Running with Rob was awesome.  Suddenly, my legs and body were not tired.  The effect of a pacer was in full force.  We talked about the day and I told him how much I enjoyed the first 53 miles (seriously) and how Baden-Powell was not too bad.  It was great to see a familiar face and it was on the way to Three Points that I knew I was going to finish the race.  I was still 45 miles away from Altadena but I just had the feeling I was going to do it.  Rob and I ran over and up another hill then descended a bit to a basin filled with the dreaded Purple Poodle Dog Bush, a large bush that smells good but if touched causes huge open sores.  Rob actually rubbed up against one a few weeks before and it was nasty.  Out of the bushes to another long climb, we made it to Shortcut Saddle.  Just as we reached the top, my running buddy and professional photographer, Tom Queally, was there.  It was so good to see him.  He took a bunch of pictures and videos which later showed that the race was having its effects on my brain to.  Not much thinking going on and a lot of blank stares at everyone.  Obviously, I had no idea but looking back at the photos, it was clear that I was not all there.  Anyways, Rob and I were in and out in 7 minutes.  It was 6:37 pm and 25 minutes off my estimated pace.  I grabbed my headlamp and said my goodbyes to the crew.  I wasn’t going to see them till 10 pm or so.
 
Climb to Chantry Flats
 
Leaving Shortcut Saddle, I had two thoughts.  First, after 3 miles, I was in new territory having never run beyond 62 miles before.  Second, the trail to Newcomb’s Pass aid station was going to be tough.  It was a really long 5.5 mile descent followed by 3 miles straight up.  All on fire roads.  I started the descent strong but after running for a while, my legs were just not going the way I wanted them to.  Rob said from the beginning that the goal was to pass 2 runners.  We did but then were passed again by those same runners.  It was cat and mouse for the next few hours.  As the sun was setting, the sky was gorgeous.  Bright orange and light blue.  The climb up Newcomb’s was a lot longer than the last time I ran it.  On and on and on.  Before we reached the summit, the sun was gone and the moon was just starting to appear.  Time for the headlamps and the long night.  At 8:28, we made it to Newcomb’s.  I sat comfortably in the chair.  Such a relief to just sit.  But no, the drill sergeant kicked me out again.  After the shortest 7 minutes of my life, we were off and running down the single track to Chantry Flats.  Last time, I ran this section in sub-7 minute miles.  This time, not a chance.  I was running but not very fast.  Rob and I made it to the bottom through Sturtevant Camp and started the climb up to Chantry.  I don’t remember much of that section other than it being very dark.  It was still hot outside but I knew Meggin and the girls would be at Chantry with cold water.  I was more excited than ever to see them.  The climb up to Chantry is brutal.  It’s a paved road that’s hard to walk up with fresh legs.  After 74 ½ miles, the road was hell.  Near the top, Tom appeared with camera in hand

Rob & Linda at Chantry
again.  So good to see him as well.  Tom followed us up the steps to the aid stations.  To my surprise, my entire crew was there – Meggin, Heidi, Carlin, Bella, and Maddie.  Plus, my 2nd pacer, Linda, was there and ready to go.  Rob’s day was done.  He did such a great job of keeping me going, making sure I was eating and hydrating, and getting me out of the aid stations.  Rob and I covered 22 miles in 5 hours and 20 minutes.  Not
bad considering the miles already traveled.  It was 10:12 pm. 
 
 
One thing that I’ve failed to mention, was that my stomach was a mess all day.  Not sure why but it was upset and not happy.  I tried to make things right at Chantry but it was not having any part.  I just accepted it as payment for the beating I was giving my body.  Good news is I was able to eat and keep everything down.  I followed my nutrition plan and was probably ahead on hydration. 
 
Chantry Flats was the last crew access point till the finish line.  After 12 minutes, I said my final goodbyes to the crew.  I left my headlamp for Rob’s fancy Ay-Up headlamp (the Rolex of headlamps) and changed socks again. The next section was one I’ve run multiple times.  It’s absolutely brutal.  Really hard on fresh legs.  Can’t imagine how it would be on legs that have been going for 17+ hours.  Not going to lie, I was panicked.


Linda and I left Chantry at 10:24.  The climb out of the aid station was not too bad.  Probably 2 miles or so of long switchbacks.  The real fun starts at Upper Winter Creek trail.  Linda was leading at this section and I was just trying to keep up.  It was good to see her.  I’ve run a lot with Linda and she is really fast and just a really great person.  Not the drill sergeant type.  Just quiet and relaxed.  Just what I needed at that point.  As with Rob, I was trying hard to keep up but my legs were saying no.  After a mile or so, I had to slow down and walk a bit.  We finally made it to Upper Winter Creek.  3 miles of switchback after switchback after switchback.  It sucked.  There was a point where I was having a hard time just walking up.  So steep and really narrow.  I was passed by 2 runners on the way up and just accepted it.  No fight left to try and pass them.  After an hour or so, Deadman’s Bench and Larry Gassan appeared.  Larry is another professional photographer and ultra-runner.  He takes amazing black and white photographs and normally takes them at the finish line. This year, unfortunately, he wasn’t able to be at the finish line.  So, he was there to capture the pure exhaustion and elation of the runners climbing out of Winter Creek.  I was one of those guys.  I sat on Deadman’s Bench, Larry snapped a picture, and after a minute or so, I was climbing yet again to the Mt. Wilson fire road.  It was another really steep ½ mile climb.  Good news is the Idelhour aid station was 4.5 miles away and was all descent.  Bad news is that it was 4.5 miles away and all descent.  I’m not sure what hurt more at this point; climbing or descending.  They both hurt.  Plus, the Rolex of headlamps died leaving me with just a small flashlight that I had to carry.  Thankfully, Linda’s headlamp lit the way.
 
For the first time all day, the City was now in view.  City lights and far away but they were there.  I was getting closer.  Linda and I finally made it to Idlehour.  Probably the most festive station on the course.  The volunteer’s set-up lights everywhere.  It was like Christmas in the middle of the forest.  They were all so nice and super helpful.  I didn’t eat a whole lot and couldn’t handle any more Tailwind or Paydays.  All I wanted was Coke.  I filled up my 26 ounce handheld and it never tasted so good.  Idlehour was mile 83.5 and we arrived at 1:01 am.  After 10 minutes of sitting, we were off.  Again this next section is equally as brutal as the Upper Winter Creek trail.  Idlehour trail seems to go on forever.
 
Leaving Idlehour, I was in 20th place.  A complete surprise to me.  My main goal was to finish and my lofty goal was to break 24 hours.  At this point, I was close to both.  The trail out of the aid station was another single track and slight climb to a crest.  Then it descended to the bottom and to Idlehour campground.  I was nervous at this point because I knew the long ascent to Sam Merrill was rapidly approaching.  It’s only a 5.5 mile section but it took me 1 hour and 49 minutes.  Not much running happened.  Mostly power walking.  Finally, Sam Merrill aid station was in view and after several more switchbacks, we arrived.
 
It was 3:00 am.  I was tired but not sleepy.  Before the race, I didn’t do any nighttime training.  Probably a mistake but I was hoping the adrenaline would get me through.  Thankfully, that’s exactly what was happening.  I sat down in a chair for a few minutes, drank more Coke then filled up the 26 ounce bottle with even more Coke.  I was done eating food.  Coke was doing the job.  After 6 minutes, Linda and I were off and running to the final aid station!  Unbelievable after 22 hours in the mountains.  I was having a hard time comprehending that I had run 89 miles and passed through 13 aid stations.  The hours seemed like minutes.  It was very surreal.
 
Somehow, I was now in 19th place without passing anyone.  Runners were dropping everywhere.  Not sure how many but by end of the race, only 55% of those that started finished.  Shows just how tough Angeles Crest really is.  As Linda and I headed down Middle Sam Merrill, the trail was having its toll on me.  Definitely the most technical section of the course and even more technical given the middle of the night and miles traveled.  The first part is mostly flat then after a bend, the City is in full view.  Does anyone down there know we are up here?  Nope.  Not a soul.  The flat quickly turned to steep, rocky, rooted, and v-shaped.  Normally, I am fairly good with technical tracks but I could hardly run.  Each step was harder than the last.  It just seemed that there were more rocks than ever.  Finally, we made it down to Mt. Lowe and headed up to Sunset Trail.  I loved training on this section.  Such a neat spot.  Close to Lake Avenue and Loma Alta yet far enough away from the City.  A special place.  Bummer for me was that we were not going down Echo Mountain.  We still had 9 miles to the finish and 4.5 miles to the Millard aid station.  Walking mixed in with a bit of running to the Sunset trail head.  We were completely alone here.  I was passed by the eventual 3rd place women’s finisher on Middle Sam Merrill about 30-45 minutes prior.  Other than her, I hadn’t seen anyone for quite some time.  Sunset trail is long and in better shape than Middle Sam Merrill.  It was really dark as it winds its way through the backside of the mountains.  After multiple switchbacks, we arrived at the paved road and onto the trail just above Millard.  We could see the lights at Millard but knew it was still a mile or so away.  We made it at 4:41 am.  Volunteers here were also great.  The aid station captain told me that if we hurried, we could make the finish before the second sunrise.  AC awards belt buckles (as does all 100 mile races) to all finishers.  Finishing before 24 hours, the buckle is sterling silver.  Finishing between 24 hours and before the sunrise, the buckle is bronze and says “Second Sunrise”.  After 5:53 am, the remaining finishers receive a buckle that says “33 hours” which represents the cut-off time.  What color the buckle is and what it says is immaterial.  Finishing is victory in and of itself.
 
I wasn’t really thinking about the second sunrise buckle.  I just wanted to be done.  Linda and I left Millard at 4:44 am.  After a 1 mile climb, we made it to El Prieto.  I love El Prieto.  A technical single track that I’ve been on hundreds of times.  First with my buddy, Rick Wilson, who introduced me to the mountains over 16 years ago.  Rick and I would mountain bike up Brown then down to El Prieto.  We shared many miles together and when I started trail running several years ago, Brown and El Prieto became my staple.  However, I had never done El Prieto at 5 am before.  It was still dark but the light was coming.  El Prieto is over 2 miles of single track through a valley.  I am so familiar with it that I generally know what’s around every bend.  Not today.  It took forever.  I remember last year when I paced Guy the feeling I had when we made it out of El Prieto.  Pure excitement that we were almost through.  I was even more excited this time.  I couldn’t stop smiling when we finally made it to the asphalt road and just over 1 mile to go.  Still no other runner in sight, I told Linda that we had 20 minutes to break 25 hours.  I was now motivated to get that buckle.
 
Climbing up the last dirt trail to Altadena Drive was awesome.  I don’t recall it hurting.  I just remember that I felt a sense of accomplishment like nothing I had ever experienced.  I was walking and told Linda that we will start running at the stop sign at Casitas.  We did just that and the corner of Lincoln and Altadena Drive came quickly.  We headed up the hill towards Palm and all of a sudden, we saw 2 runners coming.  The competitive side in me kicked in and I ran down Palm to the grassy field at Loma Alta Park.  As I write this, I have goose bumps just thinking about my wife, kids, family, and friends that were there.  First I saw Teah, then Carlin, Bella, and Juliet.  All with signs in hand.  Then Meggin, my parents, Kevin, Collin, Torres’, Javaheri’s, Tom, Ken, Rob, and Sean.  It was overwhelming.  As I crossed the finish line it was quite emotional, even for me.  I don’t show emotion very well, ok none at all, but as I look back, I am proud and sentimental of what I accomplished.  I finished at 5:46 am in 24:47:04, good for 19th place, and received the second sunrise buckle.  Easily the greatest physical achievement of my life.
 
The excitement and adrenaline quickly wore off and my body turned on me.  My muscles, stomach, and head were screaming and all I could do was lay down.  After several pictures and words of congratulations, it was over.  The Angeles Crest 100 will forever be the most special race of my life not because it was my 1st 100 nor because it was in the San Gabriels but because of the sacrifices of so many to make it happen.  Meggin and my girls were supportive from day one.  Training properly is tough and even tougher on the schedule.  Every Saturday and Sunday mornings for a year was consumed with running.  Without their support, this race doesn’t happen for me.  Thank you, thank you, thank you for allowing me to do this.  I love each of you with all my heart.  Also, thanks to my extended crew, Heidi and Maddie.  So helpful throughout the entire race (139 is fine!).  To Rob and Linda, best pacers around.  No way I make it through the night without your guidance.  Thank you for sacrificing your time and weekend to help me.  I will pay you back!  To my running buddies, Tom and Craig.  We have spent the better part of 8 years running together.  In fact, it was Craig who first introduced me to running back in 2008.  Our Saturday morning runs are a special time and I’m thankful for the chance to run each week with you.  Also, my trail running buddies – Rob, Linda, Raul, Hunt, Deb, Ken, Sean.  Thanks for spending so many hours in the mountains with me.  Lastly, thanks to my coach, Chris Vargo.  Without his plan, there is no way I could’ve finished AC.  Developing a plan and continuing to mold it to my abilities takes crazy talent.  Chris is the best coach out there.

 

After a few leisurely weeks, I’m back to running.  No time to spare as my next race is quickly approaching.  Meggin and I are headed to Mexico City in October to run the Ultra Trail de Mexico 100k.  I’m excited and nervous at the same time. 

 

The adventures continue…