Mountain Avenue Mile

Every bit of training I’ve done since December has been geared toward the Never Summer 100K, the longest, most difficult race I’ve ever attempted. It was mostly successful. I’m not quite sure what part of me thought it might be a good idea to follow up that 16 hour event with a 1 mile race.

I knew I didn’t have a shot at the time I ran in my most recent mile race two years prior, which was downhill and at nearly sea level. I trained, which is to say I did one track workout (in Illinois) a week before the race where I ran 400s in 77, 76, 75, 74, 74. Maybe, just maybe I could squeak in under 5:00. Realistically, I knew 5:05-5:10 was more probable.

I did a relatively long warmup of 5-6 miles. The older I get the longer it takes me to get up to speed. I toed the line with about 30 other grown ass men (the fun run, youth, masters, and women’s races had already taken place).

The race began.

I was so unaccustomed to racing such a short, fast distance I apparently completely forgot how to run. Literally the very first step I took from the starting line I pushed off with so much power that I completely wrenched my right hip flexor. It had to have been in just the completely wrong place. Whatever happened, it was the most excruciating pain I’ve experienced in a very long time.

I kept running because, well, it was a race. After 100 meters I started to pull off to the side so I could drop out of the race. But I kept running because, well, it was a race. After 200 meters I felt a huge snap/pop in my hip, and almost instantly the pain disappeared. Now the only pain I felt was the normal pain of running as fast as you can for a very short (but not quite short enough) distance.

My first quarter was the fastest. I slowed down a bit the second quarter, reaching the half mile in 2:28. My second quarter was already slower than I hoped to average for the whole distance. This didn’t bode well. The third quarter was slower still. I picked up the pace in the fourth quarter, but not enough. I finished in 5:05 by my watch and the finish line clock, but that somehow turned into 5:07 in the official results. So it was right where I expected, but not where I wanted to be.

Before the Mountain Avenue Mile, his last race was 100km. @ragfield #beast pic.twitter.com/Iv4zmPUuGj

— Melissa Ⓥ (@melissa_raguet) August 14, 2015

Most sensible people would take away from this experience that the mile wasn’t the event for them and never try it again. I immediately wanted to try again (like a half hour later). The problem wasn’t my fitness, I’d just completely forgotten how to race that kind of distance. With even just a tiny bit of practice I could do quite a bit better.

Or at least that’s what I’ve convinced myself could happen.

Running

July was a good month. I finally completed my recovery from the knee injury that plagued me the first half of the year. I somehow managed to finish the month with my highest monthly mileage (possibly) ever, and a close 2nd (after November 2014) for the most climbing.

Month	Workouts	Total Dist	Avg Dist	Total Ascent	Avg Ascent
January	27	274.15 miles	10.15 miles	34486.2 feet	1277.27 feet
February	10	86.31 miles	8.63 miles	12141.1 feet	1214.11 feet
March	12	57.27 miles	4.77 miles	12320.9 feet	1026.74 feet
April	12	96.01 miles	8. miles	14028.9 feet	1169.07 feet
May	17	128.92 miles	7.58 miles	19814.3 feet	1165.55 feet
June	15	183.07 miles	12.2 miles	28361.2 feet	1890.75 feet
July	24	281.46 miles	11.73 miles	43619.1 feet	1817.46 feet
Total	117	1107.18 miles	9.46 miles	164772. feet	1408.3 feet

Never Summer 100K

From the moment I first heard about this new race over a year ago, I wanted to take part. Of course, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Some people from Fort Collins went up to Cameron Pass last year to preview parts of the course, but I couldn’t make it. Then it was all covered in snow for 9 months. In June I finally got a chance to start previewing the course.

I didn’t get very far.

But I persisted. Over the course of 3 subsequent weekends I was able to preview around half of the 65 mile course.

The more I previewed the course, the more comfortable I became running the steep, gnarly terrain between 9,000-12,000 ft. On the other hand, the more I previewed the course the more concerned I became about just how hard this race was going to be. Initially I thought it might take 12 hours to run. Then I revised that estimate to 14. Then 16. Then I figured I’d be lucky to finish in 18.

Take a deep breath. Eat some cake.

Pack some bags.

Go camping.

Wake up early.

Try to remember where the aid stations are.

Run.

Miles 1-19: This could possibly be the best day ever

The start was cold. I brought a light jacket with me in case I needed it on the tops of the high mountains, but I ended up wearing it for the first 2-3 miles of the race. I started slow, even more so than necessary. I didn’t want to waste any energy before the first climb.

As soon as we hit the first climb I ramped up my effort. My goal was to keep my heart rate near 150, but not exceed that. This took a mix of running and fast walking to get that effort level dialed in. The first climb up Seven Utes Mountain was long, and very steep in places, but I had already done it three times prior to the race, so there was nothing unexpected here.

The descent was steep before it leveled out a bit and the cross country travel gave way to an actual trail before too long.

I ran with, just in front of, and just behind a group of about four guys during this stretch. I wasn’t concerned with their pace, just my effort level. There’s a lot of race left.

After a trip to the high alpine Lake Agnes, the trail dropped us out onto Michigan Ditch, a pancake flat, smooth dirt road at 10,300 ft. I ran my fastest mile of the race, 8:00. I certainly didn’t need to run a mile that fast 10 miles into a very difficult 65 mile race. But I kept my heart rate under 150, so I didn’t think it would cause any problems.

We hit the first aid station, then climbed up again to the American Lakes, before descending all the way back down to highway 14 to the mile 19 aid station.

I was moving at a good clip and I felt great.

Miles 19-45: I walk alone down the darkest road

Then came the most difficult climb of the day, North Diamond Peak. Calling it steep doesn’t really do it justice. The last ½ mile goes straight up the side of the mountain (no switchbacks) and gains 1,300 ft. before topping out at 11,852 ft.

I didn’t feel good on this climb. I wasn’t moving fast. A half dozen people passed me on the way up. I briefly went off course while following some other people rather than paying attention to where I was going. It was brutal.

From North Diamond we followed the ridge line of the Medicine Bow Mountains to the north for a couple miles. Every time we hit any sort of incline I had to walk.

I didn’t feel terrible, but I was pretty sure my best miles were behind me. Maybe I can make up time on the double-track descent. Oh, it’s really rocky and a guy tripped and face-planted right in front of me.

I guess it’s more slow running for a while. But at the bottom there’s a few miles of relatively flat terrain at relatively low elevation. Maybe I can make up some time there. Oh, there’s no real trail to speak of and it’s mostly bushwacking through tall grass.

I guess I’ll be walking for a while. Well, what comes next? Oh, several miles of climbing. My legs can’t run uphill right now. Plus it’s now the middle of the day and it’s super hot.

I guess I’ll be walking for the foreseeable future.

Well, after all that climbing there will be some descent. Maybe that will suit me. Oh, I missed a course marker and ended up descending through a boulder field instead of crossing the boulder field and descending on the trail.

And I’ve run out of water. Okay, get back on course, get some water at the aid station, and regroup. Things were going to hell in a hand basket. I had been walking forever. All kinds of people were passing me. It was a struggle. Now, at no point were things bad enough to consider dropping. I felt fine walking, and the time limit was generous enough that I could have walked the entire rest of the race and still finished within the allotted time. I just needed to keep moving and hope things would get better.

Finally I reached a runnable downhill section of trail and boy did I run. I passed several of the people who had passed me on the way up. Things were finally starting to… SHIT IS THAT ANOTHER CLIMB? Okay, a few more miles of walking, losing positions, just to turn around at Clear Lake and go back down, AND THIS TRAIL IS TOO ROCKY TO RUN DOWN.

Keep it together, Ragfield.

Miles 45-65: We all suffer but we recover

After leaving the Clear Lake aid station for the second time I headed on a long gradual downhill to what I expected to be the easiest part of the course. A guy passed me and I followed him for a while. At one point I noticed a strange sensation. Hey, I’m running uphill. Sure it was a small hill and it wasn’t very steep, but it had been hours since I had run even the slightest incline.

I ran up the next hill, and the next hill, and the next. Between the hills I was running faster than I had been for several hours. There was less than 20 miles to go, and for some reason I felt like I was just starting out on a 20 mile run. I picked up the pace. I passed the guy I had been following, and over the course of the next four miles I passed four more people.

I hit the mile 50 aid station moving reasonably fast. I tried to maintain this momentum after the aid station, but I was quickly thwarted by the course. We hit another section of “trail” that wasn’t really a trail. Tall grass covering big rocks and downed trees doesn’t really mix with running, so it was a hike again. It was super frustrating for me at this point in the race to feel so fresh and to be so eager to run, yet I couldn’t run.

After getting back on a real trail I picked up the pace and started moving well again. Before long I came into the last big aid station and, to my slight surprise, I got to see Melissa who was there waiting for me. It was an hour before sunset and I had about two hours left to go, so I picked up my headlamp and I started up the final long climb of the day.

It was gradual and the surface was good, and I WAS RUNNING. Man, was I ready to be done with this. At the very top the trail got a little rougher and I walked the last little bit as the daylight vanished. I turned on my headlamp as I began running a flat section of double-track. Easy, right? Nope. The road was covered in tiny tree stumps sticking up a couple inches. Just the right amount for your shoe to slide right in there and then trip when you try to pick it back up. I stumbled a few times before I resigned myself to walking. Again, I felt like running but I couldn’t.

My watch battery died around here so I didn’t know what my time or distance was. I ran slowly in the dark down the mountain to highway 14, where Melissa was waiting to run the last 2 miles with me. It was relatively smooth and flat. Before long we spotted another headlamp ahead of us. This was a surprise, as I didn’t think I was near anyone else on the course by this point. I picked up the pace, passed the runner, then picked up the pace even more. After I got around him I noticed a headlamp following me. I didn’t know whether it was him or Melissa. I ran even faster. I did about a ⅓ mile at sub-7:00 pace (64 miles into the race) before Melissa caught back up to me and I realized the guy I passed wasn’t chasing me down. Time to ease up and cruise into the finish.

I finished in 16h01m, which was pretty much exactly what I was expecting. It wasn’t as fast as I would have ideally liked, but it was fast enough. I’m happy with that.

Running

After a long, miserable spring, everything sort of came together in June. With some pretty intense physical therapy my knee pain finally vanished. I completed the Quad Rock 50 mile race on very little training. I recovered from Quad Rock faster than any other 50 miler I’ve run in the past, though it was also by far the slowest 50 miler I’ve run. I had two solid weekends of running on the course of the Never Summer 100K, a race I will tackle in late July. I had a nice 20 miler in the Tetons. It’s still a bit shocking how quickly my injury went away and I was able to ramp up my mileage. I’m already feeling so much better prepared for Never Summer than I was for Quad Rock. And it’s a good thing too, because Quad Rock will be easy by comparison.

Month	Workouts	Total Dist	Avg Dist	Total Ascent	Avg Ascent
January	27	274.15 miles	10.15 miles	34486.2 feet	1277.27 feet
February	10	86.31 miles	8.63 miles	12141.1 feet	1214.11 feet
March	12	57.27 miles	4.77 miles	12320.9 feet	1026.74 feet
April	12	96.01 miles	8. miles	14028.9 feet	1169.07 feet
May	17	128.92 miles	7.58 miles	19814.3 feet	1165.55 feet
June	15	183.07 miles	12.2 miles	28361.2 feet	1890.75 feet
Total	93	825.73 miles	8.88 miles	121153. feet	1302.72 feet

Quad Rock 50

In January I signed up for the Quad Rock 50 mile race. This is a local Fort Collins event, on trails I run frequently, run by almost everyone I know, put on by race directors I run with regularly. This was the race I really wanted this year. Then a couple weeks after registering I injured my knee and struggled with the pain throughout the Spring.

I gave up on my hopes of a strong race at Quad Rock. Down but not out, I was determined to participate somehow, even if it meant dropping down to the 25 mile race and walking every step of the way. My training for Quad Rock was far more hiking than running. I spent many hours on the course. I was ready for the long hike in early May. Then the sky split open, poured rain for days, flooded everything, and postponed the race. Sure it sucked for some would-be participants, but it was good news for me. Now I had 5 more weeks to prepare. It was a miracle.

A second miracle followed shortly thereafter. By the end of May my knee was feeling better. I ramped up my running mileage with no ill effects, so I tried a now-or-never long run two weeks before Quad Rock. Success. I’m going to run this damn race.

My expectations were pretty low. I mean, this is a really tough course with six mountain climbs totaling close to 11,000 ft of ascent and descent. I figured best case scenario was to simply complete the 50 mile course under the 14 hour time limit. There were many other (worse) scenarios I didn’t particularly care to entertain. If I could (mostly) run the first 25 mile lap in under 6 hours I was confident I could hike the entire second 25 mile lap (if I had to) in the remaining 8 hours.

I started near the very back so I wouldn’t face the urge to jockey with fast runners at the beginning. The first few miles felt super easy. 2 miles in we turned off the wide dirt road into single track and I really truly experienced my first ultra conga line (a solid line of runners moving the same speed with no good opportunities to pass or be passed).

This was the real test of my patience. I passed. Mostly.

Part way up the first climb the single track gave way to the wide Towers Road trail where I was free to move at my own pace again. We were all hiking up the steep trail, but I was moving at a faster pace than most others around me. I spent so much time hiking this Spring that this felt pretty effortless.

At the top of the climb we hit the Towers aid station for the first time. I refilled my bottle and began the descent down Spring Creek trail. Midway down I got caught up in another conga line (is that supposed to happen on downhills?). Again my patience was tested, and again I sort of passed.

At mile 10 I reached the Horsetooth aid station where Melissa and Will were waiting to see me. One mountain climb down, five to go.

I took a few moments to put a bandaid on my left heel where I was developing a hot spot that seemed likely to turn into a blister. I wore the same shoe + sock combination I’ve worn for many, many miles without problems… but today I had a small problem. Fortunately it never got much worse.

I was pretty proud of myself for having the self control to start the race so conservatively, so I promptly ran almost the entire way up Horsetooth mountain after leaving the aid station. I probably should have been walking more.

I have to say, things were going pretty well at this point in the race. I felt great. I wasn’t even remotely fatigued. It wasn’t super hot yet. I was eating and drinking well.

Another trip to the Towers aid station, followed by a rapid descent of Mill Creek trail and I made it to the mile 17 Arthurs Rock aid station, where, once again, Will and Melissa were waiting to see me.

I still felt good. Two mountain climbs down, four to go.

The Howard trail switchbacks are interminable. I mostly hiked at a quick pace, with a bit of running thrown in.

Once I reached the top it was back down the switchbacks on Timber trail, followed by a completely unshaded final few miles down to the start/finish area. It was getting pretty hot by this point in the day. While the first 17 miles of the race were pure joy, I was starting to notice all the downhill miles wearing on my knees (both of them). I slowed down a bit to ease the pounding a little and that seemed to help.

Three mountain climbs down, three to go. Will and Melissa greeted me after 25 miles. Will showed me a sign he made for me and his drawing of the planets. It was adorable. I replenished my food and drink supplies. I put on a bandana around my neck with some ice in it to cool me down. It was really hot. A lot of the people coming into the start/finish turnaround weren’t going back out.

My legs weren’t cramping or sore, but I didn’t have much power left. While I could still run the flats and downhills, I knew there was no more running uphill left in me. Still, I moved with a purpose. There was no stopping. Every moment I wasn’t moving forward was just that much longer I was going to be out there.

The second lap is run in reverse, so it started with a long unshaded climb in the heat. Furthermore, I was passing all the runners who were still coming down into the start/finish area. At the first aid station of the second lap I began to see the carnage from the day’s heat. There were three guys sitting on the ground next to the unattended table of water jugs. They were out of the race, but they still needed to get back to the bottom of the mountain somehow.

I ran the descent and made it back to the Arthurs Rock aid station where Melissa and Will were waiting once again. I didn’t spend too much time there. I wanted to get this over with. Four mountain climbs down, two to go.

The next climb up Mill Creek was possibly the low point of my race. It was incredibly steep. I was hot. I was thirsty. I was no longer moving (even walking) at a good pace. I was just barely moving forward. When I eventually reached the top of the seemingly-endless climb I was greeted by enthusiastic volunteers at the Towers aid station who had a kiddie pool full of cold water for me to dunk my head in. It was glorious.

I ran much of the way across West Ridge trail and then down Horsetooth Rock trail to the mile 40 Horsetooth aid station. The descent was a bit slow on account of my knees, but I was still in one piece. Five mountain climbs down, one to go.

I really wasn’t looking forward to the last climb up Spring Creek trail. It’s not super steep. I can run up this trail. But not today. Not right now. I walked almost every step of the way. For the first half of the climb I had a buddy to share in my misery. We never said a word to each other, he just walked two steps behind me at the exact same speed for a couple miles. Eventually another runner passed us (running!) and my buddy left me for the faster guy. C’est la vie.

At the Towers aid station for the final time the enthusiastic volunteers game me a popsicle, which absolutely made my day. Just one more painful descent, then a few miles in the valley. Oh God, the valley. The hottest part of the course. I didn’t know if I could handle it.

Then came the final miracle of the race. The moment I hit the valley, the clouds moved in for the first time all day. I wasn’t getting pounded by the sun as I had feared I would be.

Just after leaving the final aid station, with about two miles to go I took a quick glance behind me and saw another runner about 100 meters back and closing. And I did what had to be done. I ran a mile faster than I had run the previous 35. Another look behind showed nobody in sight. Crisis averted.

Melissa and Will saw me approaching, and Will ran beside me to the finish line. It was done. A month ago I couldn’t run 3 miles without pain, and now I just finished the most difficult 50 mile race of my life with no major problems.

There was massive carnage in the heat. Some runners who registered for the 50 mile race dropped down to the 25 after seeing the weather forecast. Of the 95 that actually started the 50 mile race only 43 finished it. I somehow ended up 13th.

All photos of me taken by Melissa.

Running

May started a lot how April ended. I could run a little bit, but it still hurt, especially if I went farther than 2-3 miles. I had resigned myself to at least hiking the first 25 miles miles of the Quad Rock 50 mile race I had signed up for back in January. I whipped myself into decent hiking shape.

Then the rain came, flooded everything, and postponed the race from mid-May to mid-June. This was pretty good news, at least for me.

Then in the middle of the month, without warning, something happened. My knee pain had been gradually improving with physical therapy from Rocky Mountain Rossiter, but it suddenly just disappeared. I was running pain-free for the first time in months. I cautiously ramped up my mileage, not really believing what I was feeling, knowing in the back of my mind that the next step would bring doom. But it never did. By the end of the month I did a 20 mile run with 5,000 feet of ascent.

Am I ready to run the most challenging 50 mile race I’ve ever done? Well, yes and no. I don’t have the fitness to race hard, so I’m not even going to try. I think I do have the fitness to complete the race (which would be quite an achievement by itself), so that’s what I’m shooting for. I plan to take it pretty slow, but stay ahead of the time cutoffs. It’s going to be brutally hot, which is going to slow things down even more. I may not make it, but I believe I can.

Month	Workouts	Total Dist	Avg Dist	Total Ascent	Avg Ascent
January	27	274.15 miles	10.15 miles	34486.2 feet	1277.27 feet
February	10	86.31 miles	8.63 miles	12141.1 feet	1214.11 feet
March	12	57.27 miles	4.77 miles	12320.9 feet	1026.74 feet
April	12	96.01 miles	8. miles	14028.9 feet	1169.07 feet
May	17	128.92 miles	7.58 miles	19814.3 feet	1165.55 feet
Total	78	642.66 miles	8.24 miles	92791.3 feet	1189.63 feet

“Running”

It’s been a rough Spring. With near-constant pain in my left knee, I’ve really struggled to do much running at all. What little running I have done has been quite painful for the most part. I was able to do a lot of walking and hiking (which are less painful), and a fair bit of cycling (which is also less painful). The good news is that my knee is finally starting to feel a bit better in May (though still not great).

Month	Workouts	Total Dist	Avg Dist	Total Ascent	Avg Ascent
January	27	274.15 miles	10.15 miles	34486.2 feet	1277.27 feet
February	10	86.31 miles	8.63 miles	12141.1 feet	1214.11 feet
March	12	57.27 miles	4.77 miles	12320.9 feet	1026.74 feet
April	12	96.01 miles	8. miles	14028.9 feet	1169.07 feet
Total	61	513.74 miles	8.42 miles	72977. feet	1196.34 feet

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Cycling

I transitioned to a new training log, and I don’t have all my historical cycling data imported yet. So here’s February, March, and April 2015:

313 miles, 21h30m, 21,926 ft ascent, max speed 51.4 mph.

It’s coming up on one month ago that I ran my first race of the year, Moab’s Red Hot 55K. It didn’t go well and that was a bitter pill to swallow. I was well prepared. During my last long run, two weeks before the race, I noticed some minor knee pain. This is not unusual. By that evening I couldn’t walk downstairs. This is unusual. Then two days later I caught the flu and that lasted for two weeks, right through the race.

Despite the constant knee pain and the illness I decided to run anyway, even though I was pretty sure it would be a disaster. Within the first two miles, my suspicions were confirmed when I noticed my heart rate was through the roof for the pace I was running. The best decision I could have made at that point would be to slow down and jog the next 32 miles (or until my knee pain became too unbearable and drop out). I, of course, did not make that decision. I continued on at the same pace, with the same higher-than-normal heart rate until I crashed and burned around mile 20.

The last 14 miles were a complete sufferfest. Dehydration, fatigue, sunburn (even in February a desert is still a desert) all conspired against me. I really took a beating out there. At this point nothing will change my rotten performance. All I can really do is try to learn from my mistakes and do better next time.

Whenever that might be.

In the four weeks since the race I’ve run a total of 12 miles because my knee pain is so intense. I haven’t had to deal with pain like this in a decade. My running plans for the year are no longer a matter of how well I can run at my big races, but if I can even run them at all.

On a more positive note, this was my first trip to Utah. While many miles of the course were flat sandy and rocky desert with not much to look at, much more of the course was incredibly beautiful terrain (still sandy and rocky) with views of two national parks and a high mountain range. I was blown away by some of the views. During the race I met in person a friend from Fort Collins who I’d only previously known online. And after the race I ran into Cousin Don, an old friend from Illinois. On the whole, the weekend was great. It was really only about four hours of it that completely sucked.