Silver State 50/50 Ultra Marathon

Three days out from Silver State 50 Mile Ultra-Marathon and I am feeling "normal" again. This is actually a really fast recovery for me so all in all I am totally stoked on the outcome of Saturday's race and cannot wait to have a little shakeout trot up Cawls Mountain in San Diego this weekend while I visit Mom.

As I mentioned in the previous post, I did not get much actual running in over the last three months or so. Maybe about 10 runs total? A cumulative 50 miles maybe? What I learned is that cross-training has made this more fun for me, and that I still got it!

I went into this race with a totally open mind. Last year I was so set on being somebody that it left me feeling like nobody so hey, this year, new year...old approach, something like that..I was set on entering this race stress free with no expectations. Main goal- run happy, run free, don't get stressed and keep the cortisol out of the muscles!

I woke up at 4:30am to brew some coffee and though I had little sleep that night, I was feeling well. Healthy, happy, ready to run an ultra again. The race began only about two miles from my house in Reno so it was nice to be able to maintain my daily routine on race-day. We got to the park at about 5:45am, checked in, and before I knew it I was lining up with the front of the pack hoping that this would get me started fast and free from the clutter of starting a race on single-track with 80+ other runners.

We took off, all in good spirits, running out of San Rafael Park and headed quickly up the desert hills of Peavine Mountain. I was stoked and smiling, plenty happy, and feeling energized off the two slices of toast that I ate for breakfast. Not much food, but I really do not like changing my routine on race-day (or ever) and I figured these aid-stations would be full of gels which luckily turned out to be true.

Soon we were climbing a drainage that I had never run before so I was excited to some new terrain. Before I knew it I was at the top of Peavine Summit and 12 miles in feeling REALLY well. I was kind of nervous at this point that I may feel "too well" early and that may get the best of me late race, but I was simply listening to my body, not checking mileage or time, and just going with the flow. To me, that is the key to a happy run, running with the terrain and not feeling as if you are above it, but part of it.

Not far from the summit we crossed a snowfield and I thought to myself, "shoot dang," this really is the Biggest Little City. We even have snowfields! This got me a little jazzed up and I decided screw it, I'll pass some people and go for a faster-than-planned pace. After we bottomed out through the aspen trees and greenery, we were climbing again and I was still feeling strong so I passed a couple people while in power-hike mode. Long legs are indeed a God given advantage!

I didn't know it at the time but when I checked in at the aid-station I was in the top 20 which is doing really well for me. Then..we hit a doozy of a downhill west across the California border and by mile 25 I had to check myself before I wrecked myself. I think in the excitement I had forgone some necessary calories and this caused me to loose some energy down there so I flipped into hike-mode which was a bit disheartening.

That is the thing about a 50 mile race (or longer), you go through so mannnny ups and downs (figuratively and literally) and have to work through so many hard problems while incredibly drained. The decisions you make are yours and they all determine your outcome.

So as a hiked for about 5 miles, I thought wow, nobody has passed me, I must be in the lead herd of runners. This was motivating so it helped and I started taking some deep breaths in reminder that I had another half of a race to go. Really, I was managing my ego. Another key component to running well. Do you, not them.

As we got to the Dog Valley aid-station at mile 30, a couple runners caught up to me but I ended up passing them on the ensuing uphill and would run alone again for another 8 miles until I once again got passed by a couple other people but one ended up dropping at the next aid station, one was a girl, so I really only dropped a spot. I figured I would get him and a a few others on the final downhill where I tend to do well.

Oddly enough, at mile 38 I started feeling healthy again and the legs felt refreshed compared to mile 20 so maybe the slowing down helped in the end. I started my final climb to Peavine Summit and really was just enjoying the moment(s). By the time I got to the top for the third and final time I had passed another two male runners and was feeling super accomplished. To make things even that much better, you are allowed a pacer from this point down (someone to run with you) and Cale was waiting at the top to finish off the final 12 miles with me.

I stopped only for a second to fill my 10oz bottle (the only one I carried) and then we bolted off. There was one guy sitting at the station eating and I figured I could gain another spot by blasting out of there. We started jamming downhill and within a mile from the aid-station it started to snow and we just laughed. Are you kidding me? It's May! After about two miles I noticed that the same runner had left the aid-station and was trying to catch me. This was frustrating because I thought the race was "over" and that I could glide down another 12 miles to the finish line without having to push myself too hard.

Cale and I kept running and pushing it whenever I could. Honestly, I was giving it pretty much all I had so I was content and taking it all in as much as I could. The thing is about downhills, they crush my shins. This is something I have dealt with forever so I have to manage this wisely and not let my inner athlete take over.

Finally, we got down to the last aid-station and with three miles to go nobody had passed me on the way down and I could see the runner behind me mimicking my pace. To me, this is like a predator stalking and I know that the runner is simply waiting for the moment to jam it and pass me in a demoralizing way. How long can I fight this? Should I just run hard and demoralize his effort to pass me? It's all a toss up. I decided to keep my pace and not worry about him. My main goal was to finish this run, not finish top 15-20, and I didn't want to hurt myself for the rest of the summmer/season. I kept my pace at even a bit faster than I wanted to and with 1 mile left I turned my head and saw this runner two switchbacks behind me. WTH I thought, the nerve! I told Cale, let me know if you see this guy again, I'm just going to keep pounding away.

Well, with a half mile left he came up behind me about a 100 feet and I decided to go for it, running as hard as I could, for all of about 100 feet..... I quickly decided to pull off and let him pass. I didn't want to finish this run in pain. I had enjoyed it all day. Once I started running super hard to try to stay ahead, my heart-rate redlined and I felt faint. It was a stark reminder of the days mantra, "do you."

I did me for the last half mile and crossed the finish line feeling well as hell. I had almost no pain, was smiling, and not even terribly hungry. I was entirely content. The feeling I have been chasing for some time now.

I ended up finishing in the top 20, shaved 2 hours off my best 50 mile time (12.5hrs down to 10.5), and could not have been happier with the race I ran.

In this photo: A content me after finishing Silver State 50/50

It is time to start biking and getting in the outrigger canoe again. Very much looking forward to a summer of fun in the mountains, all culminating to my IMTUF 100 mile race in McCall, Idaho, this September. *Only photo from the day- me freezing at the start line right before I ripped off the puffy. I love being warm!