Squaw Peak 50 - Pictures Edition

As promised, a few pics from the Squaw Peak 50 Miler a few weeks ago...

2010 Squaw Peak 50 Mile Trail Run

I’ve been absolutely unmotivated to write anything lately. I would think about it at times, but really, why does anyone care about my training or my aches and pains? Cuz let’s get real… I only have a few readers so it’s not like I’m boring a large population or anything. Still, it feels nice to have something of value to say sometimes!

So why write now, you ask? Partly because it’s been too long, but mostly because I experienced the epic Squaw Peak 50 back on June 5th (I've had this report written for well over a week, but was waiting for pictures; those will have to come in a follow up post since I haven't had time to sort through them all).

I actually found out on Mother’s Day that I was officially in the race. That was a nice present for a dude! But I’d been training like I was already in the race, so I was prepared. So prepared in fact, I had set some seriously ambitious goals... Like running under 11 hours for instance (I actually felt like I had 10 ½ in me but wasn’t about to tell anyone that). I got some nice long runs in during training and pretty much felt at peak fitness.

Was I getting cocky, though? That’s usually the tendency when you start getting taller, better, faster, stronger (I despise Kanye btw). I think God had other plans for me and felt I had a need to be humbled, because I came down with a cold the week before the race. Arrrggghhh! It ran its course and left me with some chest congestion on race day. Better than a sore throat… Maybe?!? I re-evaluated my situation and realized 11 hours was completely unrealistic on this day. New goal… 12 hours.

The course is not flat. In fact, I recall only a few short stretches of flat running. I haven’t seen any official figures, but it’s somewhere in the ballpark of 14,000 feet elevation gain and 14,000 feet of descent. Not your cookie-cutter distance race (not that a 50 miler ever is).

Elevation profile courtesy of Phil Lowry

So the start comes and goes and the first 10 miles click by without a hitch. I was a couple minutes up on my projection and was feeling relatively fresh. As I’m working my way up the climb to the aid station (mile 14.6), I start feeling fatigued. Shortness of breath, elevated heart rate; all the signs are rearing their ugly heads. Then I start coughing a bit and realize it’s the elevation… My congested lungs apparently aren’t enjoying anything above 8,000 feet or so. This is gonna be a long day! I push on through the aid station and eventually my lungs recover on the nice downhill.

After a 7 ½ mile downhill, I’m back under my 11-hour pace. Sweet! I can deal with this… Slow down at the higher elevations & smoke the downhills. Back on track! When I hit mile 22 where the trail meets Hobble Creek Road, I was more than 5 minutes up on my 11-hour pace, and about 20 minutes up on my 12-hour pace. I was also ecstatic to see my crew for the first time. In the ultra-running world, CREW is said to stand for Cranky Runner Endless Waiting. They would end up seeing the gamut from me on this day; from elation to absolute misery. After a quick pit stop to meet them (Lydia, Mom, Dad), I run the 4 mile stretch of road up Hobble Creek. I use the term “run” very loosely! It was more of a hobble (pun intended) than a run. It was hot and exposed; I wanted my beloved trail back. Instead I was stuck with this miserable pavement!

This is where my dreams were crushed and the reality of my circumstance punched me square in the face! My stomach went south and I was a bit dehydrated. I wobbled into the next aid station (mile 26.1) and was staggering around like a drunk at the bar. I started downing cups of Coke (a-Cola) and jamming food into my mouth, trying to get things to turn around. No such luck! I mix some slogging and walking through the next 4 miles, attempting a recovery which never came. Luckily I had ultra-running stud Davy Crockett to follow. I just tried to mimic his pace in order to stay on track.

As I roll into the mile 30.0 aid station, my stomach is sloshing with all that liquid and food. At the advice of local ultrarunning legend Karl Meltzer who's working the aid station, I start eating salted potatoes and drink some amazing bullion he’d brewed up, take a few more S-Caps and I’m on my way. The trudge continues ‘til I hit the 33.5 mile aid station. As I run down the hill, I see my crew and they have a chair waiting for me. Heaven! I sit and try to get my wits about me again. After a long stop which included a change of socks & some sunscreen, I grab a second water bottle and my iPod, then head out for the longest section of the day. I’m now just 2 minutes ahead of my 12 hour goal. Hopefully my playlist (aptly named Melt-Your-Face) of metalhead jams could keep me motivated. Metal is the only way to go when you need to find that extra gear!

All other sections on this course hover around 1 hour. My projections gave me 3 hours for this next section. It was mostly uphill, with the memorable “Bozung Hill” – a 1200 foot climb in under 1 mile – to cap it all off. The stomach never let up the whole way, and just before the base of the massive hill, my lungs (once again) let me know they didn’t approve of what I was doing. To put the icing on the cake, I was a bit dehydrated. Lucky me! I decided to carry two bottles instead of three, which turned out to be a mistake. I ran out of water about half way up the big hill, being saved only by a large snow bank just off the path. I dug in up to my elbow and began filling my bottle with slush (other burrows indicated I wasn’t the only one doing this). With the saving grace of the snow melting in my bottle, I was able to push on to the aid station just off the back of the hill (mountain).

All the volunteers were amazing, but especially those at this aid station! This was an extremely remote location… A 7+ mile hike from any direction. They carried everything in on their backs and were as well-supplied as any aid station on the day. Top notch! So I filled both water bottles, ate some delicious homemade cookies, and left at the 9:49 mark, now 11 minutes up on my 12-hour pace. How did that happen??? Probably the generous amount of time I gave myself to complete that gnarly section.

Right out of the gate was major snow. Ya know, the kind where it’s easier to glissade, slip, slide, sit-on-your-butt-and-sled-down kind of snow! Slippery snow turned to soft snow, then sloppy snow, then mud, until I was finally clear of it; good solid single track for the rest of the way. I finally peed again (it had only been 6 hours or so… Yikes!), then attacked the downhill. I felt good for the first time in over 20 miles! I ended up passing 3 runners on this section, finally arriving at the last aid station. I hung out with the crew for a few minutes (Britt & Brian were there too), then told my dad to keep me company on the last leg. Off we went down the road toward the finish.

Not gonna lie, it was nice having someone to chat with again! I probably talked his ear off. Thanks for being a good sport dad! After passing a few more runners, I eventually arrived to cheers at the park and ran it in for a finish of 11:39:53 officially. I ended up 48th out of 243 starters. Not too bad, though I was never racing anyone but myself. It was finally over! Afterwards, I jokingly asked my family who signed me up for this craziness. They just laughed as they already knew I needed my head checked!

Huge thanks to the volunteers! Without them, this race would not be possible. They deal with runners all day, work in less than ideal conditions, and not only do they not get paid for it, they volunteer. They must like the abuse! Lydia and my parents also deserve much thanks! They spent the entire day driving through the mountains, just to see me for a few minutes here and there. They gave up an entire day for me and I couldn’t be more grateful… Thank you guys so much! Also, a big congrats to all the runners on a memorable day!

All in all, I’m pleased with how my race went down. I pushed through some major adversity and stuck with it. I learned a lot through my trials, and I’m proud that I was able to persevere. I even ended up hitting my (adjusted) goal! I know I’m very capable of much more on a good day, but this is a significant boost to my morale; even when the chips were down I was able to push on. Also, the good thing about my result is it leaves room for improvement next year. I’m looking forward to it already. Now bring on the training for Wasatch!