World Long Distance Mountain Running Championships - Race Report

With a few minutes to go, we were called to the starting line.  The World Championship athletes lined up in front, with the open racers behind a separate banner.  We stared up the ski slope...the gun went off...and we started jogging easily up the first climb.  I immediately fell back in the crowd, running between Amber and Sesalie, but being sure to not kill myself on the climb.  My goal was to survive the climb and still feel good at the top - in hopes that I would be in a position to move up and run my race afterwards...so I was running aggressively but still keeping something in the tank.

(Running the early climbs up the ski slope)

 

The early climb was gentle and runnable, as we worked our way up to the top of the first ski lift.  I stayed between Sesalie and Amber and felt comfortable with my pace.  About halfway up the climb, the grade got steeper and the real mountain running began.  I sprinkled in walking and hiking, pacing myself off Amber - I would hike when she hiked, and then jog as needed to catch up on the flatter sections.  As the course turned to a hiking trail, I got ahead of Amber but felt comfortable with my pace.  I could see the top and put my head down to power up the last steep bit.  Considering the climb was an average of about 11% grade - and the early slopes were so runnable, the last mile or two of the climb must have been super steep, and the trail was covered with carefully placed rocks in almost steps (I flashed back to Cayuga as I powered up).  I was as aggressive as I could be with my pace - running earlier than others around me - I wanted the climb behind me and wanted the real race to start. 

 

(Towards the top of the first climb, with the rock steps.  The peak behind me is the finish line.)

 

I was incredibly pleased as I crested the climb - I was only 4 miles into the race, but I had climbed more than 2,000 feet already and my biggest fear was behind me.  It had been about 50 minutes of continuous up - but I had survived.  More over, the legs didn't have that distinct fatigue feeling - so I was pleased that my recent 100-miler didn't appear to be affecting me out there - phew!  From the top of the climb, you could see the ridge we were going to run, the ups and downs we would traverse throughout the adventure.  It reminded me of the White Mountains, when you ridge run from mountain to mountain, and that feeling filled me with joy - this is why I run! 

 

Almost immediately, the trail turned downward in a super technical rocky trail.  The first mile felt like it was 15-20% down, and was large placed rocks that you hopped across - it was terrifying.  I did my best to enjoy and cruise down them, but a part of me was freaking out that I was going to fall and get injured.  I was sure glad to have on my trusty Inov8 Roclite 268s - they gave me enough grip to summon some courage through the rocky sections.





(Running a rocky downhill section)

 

I kept imagining that Amber was right behind me and going to catch me - and that kept me aggressive.  I was pleased to be catching the stronger climbers, although I didn't catch too many ladies.  In general, I was just running in awe of the beauty - there were these 30-50 foot rock features that were completely natural but were like no geolocial feature I've ever seen in the US.  There were people along the course cheering 'Bravo!', and offering splashes of water to runners. 

 



(One of the many rock features we passed along the way.  This was about 1/4 mile from the finish line.)

 

At some point along the way, I started to notice these small concrete bollards painted white and red, along the side of the trail - with the letter C or P on them.  These were the bollards marking the Chez Republic and Poland border - we were literally running along the ridge that separated the two countries. 



(Polish-Chez Republic border markers)

The amazement of the views, the wonder of running in and out of two countries, and the awesomeness of wearing the USA jersey in a World Championship certainly fueled me through the first half of the race.  As I approached the turn-around (22.5km), I saw how the USA men were doing (which was incredibly well!), and saw that Alison was about 5-minutes ahead of me.  Then, after turning back towards the finish line, I saw that Sesalie was about 15-minutes behind me, and Amber was struggling behind her.  But, considering Amber was hurting, the rest of the USA ladies appeared to be running strong and doing well.

About a mile out of the turn-around, the heat started to affect me.  This entire ridge was exposed, there was little breeze, and it was upwards of 80-degrees of baking sun.  The aid stations were far enough apart that as much as I drank and splashed water over my head, I wouldn't get completely cooled until I could reach my next aid station.

(My nightmare at 25km in - rocky technical trail)

During this tough patch, I quickly reached several rocky and technical sections.  These sections that I typically love and float over were now land mines, and I stumbled over rocks as I tried to tip-toe and gingerly step around them.  I couldn't stomach any gels or chews and my luke-warm fluids weren't doing anything to cool me down as I continued to hydrate as best I could.  I mentally struggled also - thinking about how I wasn't a mountain runner, and how I had just run a 100-mile race only 2 weeks prior and ran a hard 50 miler just 2 weeks before that - what the hell was I thinking even toeing the line at this race?  My only solice was that I wasn't loosing ground to the South African runner who was near me, she could run the technical sections better but anytime the rocks subsided, I was able to catch back up.  I just hoped I wasn't loosing too much ground overall as I waited for this to turn around.

After several miles of struggling, I finally reached the next aid station (30km), where Sesalie's husband and son were there.  Her husband handed me fluids and a fresh bottle as her son poured cup after cup of water over my head and shoulders.  I left the aid station ahead of the South Africa runner, and felt good about my quick aid station stop - especially since the water was starting to cool me back down.  Mentally, things were turning around. 

I caught and passed a few runners, and tried to run as hard as I could.  I could cruise over the rocky and technical sections again without fear or stumbling, I was enjoying the amazing views along this ridge, I was soaking in all the cheers of bravo from folks along the course.  I ran a few of the last climbs, as folks around me were reduced to a power hike.  I reached the last aid station (38km), at the top of the opening climb, and our course went past this and one peak farther along the ridge - I had one more mountain to summit and about 5km more to run.

(Example of the rocky and technical terrain on the course - no longer a nightmare)

 

Amber's husband (Chris) and Sesalie's daughter were at this aid station.  Chris took my waist pack and handed me some fluids to drink as Sesalie's daughter poured water over my head.  I didn't even break stride as I powered past them.  Chris told me he thought I was in 32nd place.  My pre-race goal, seeing results from last year's results, was to finish top 40.  Considering it was my 34th birthday, I decided at this point that it would be fantastic to try to beat my age - so top 34 became my new goal.  In Wales, I had experienced some conflicting information regarding my place, so I didn't completely put faith in the 32nd place that Chris told me - and left the last aid station determined to catch as many folks as I could.  I was feeling strong, and the finish line was in sight in the distance.

I quickly caught one more female, then didn't see any other runners for a while.  I could see the finish line, off to my right, and I started to panic that I had missed a turn.  I kept trying to ask folks that were on the trail hiking, but without them speaking english, I wasn't getting any info.  I did keep the pressure on and try to hammer the last few miles, but I was anxious about running any extra distance.  Finally, the course turned toward the finish line, and I could see national team athletes cheering us towards the finish. 

(The last Chez Republic-Polish border marker, 1/4 mile from the finish on the rock feature above)

 

In the last 1/4 mile, the course goes past one last rock feature, which had the country border painted on it - and I turned onto Polish land for the last time and up to the finish line.  The finish line was very remnicent of Mount Washington, as the grade got steeper and steeper in the last few meters - I did my best to keep running through the line as it got increasingly hard. 

(Crossing the finish line)

I was quickly able to find Alison, who finished about 10 minutes ahead of me (20th place).  We headed out onto the course to cheer on Sesalie - we had heard that Amber unfortunately had to drop out due to an injury.  Sesalie powered through the finish about 17 minutes behind me - a super strong performance for her.  I quickly talked her into also getting a celebratory beer at the finish line - I was calling it my birthday beer!  We were both the most novice of team USA at this distance and competive level of racing, and were extremely excited to have finished strong and represented well for the USA.  Turns out I finished 29th place and second USA runner - not so bad considering my preparation, my recent 100-miler, and my experience at mountain races in general.

(Birthday beer with Sesalie)

It took 2 ski lifts to get from the finish line to the starting line - really showing us how much climbing we did.  After a quick shower, the team returned to the awards ceremony to cheer on the podium finishers.  Our men's team was a close 4th place finish (just over 2 minutes off the podium!) and our ladies team was 8th place, which tops our 10th place team finish in Wales.  Then, we decided that we had to have one more Polish experience before we returned home - and we went out for perogies.  They were handcrafted, you could literally see the finger prints of the chef around the edges of each perogie; they were the best thing I had eaten in a while.  Totally worth running for, and the perfect way to finish my Polish adventure.

(Handmade perogies, a well deserved post-race treat)

 

All in all, this was an incredible experience.  I was extremely pleased to run a true European mountain marathon, and experience the enthusiasm and support of trail racing in Europe.  The course was amazing and challenging.  I was pleased with my results, but not completely enthusiastic - with more advanced selection, I would have focused a bit more on my technical running skills and mountain running strenght, however I did well considering.  I finished my second World Championship race, within a month of each other, and placed in the top 30 at both events, I believe I represented the USA as well as I could have.  However, I think that between the World Trail Running Championships, with the 50-mile distance that I love and focus I was able to give towards that event, and the World Long Distance Mountain Running Championships, with the technical section, beautiful and challenging course, and cheering spectators along the course - that I got to experience all the aspects of a World Championship and European race that I had always imagined.  And to get to do that with a USA singlet on was an honor.  I don't know if I'll ever have an opportunity to race for team USA again, or get to travel to these amazing places for races, but I am grateful for the opportunities that I've been given this summer and look forward to any other incredible opportunity in the future.

Stars Aligned for Poland

I feel like my summer has been a fairytale, a whirlwind of incredible opportunities, shared adventures and miles with friends, and plenty of stories to tell.  No one pinch me, I'm afraid I might wake up to find this was all a dream.

After my race in Wales at the World Trail Running Championship, I was flying high.  I raced strong, and represented the USA well, I had a near-ideal race even on a course that didn't really suit me.  Apparently my result was good enough to get me a last minute invitation to run for the USA at the World Long Distance Mountain Running Championship, to replace the spot that Michelle Yates earned but had to abandon after her race in Wales (it speaks again to what an incredible teammate she was - sacrificing her opportunity to race in Poland so that we could have a team finish in Wales).  The World Long Distance Mountain Running Championship this year was a 44km mountain marathon in Szklarska Poreba, Poland, and featured 2150m of climbing and 1380m of decent and basically broke down like this: run up a mountain for 4 miles at an average grade of 11%...then run 23 more miles.  While I'll admit that the thought of this race terrified me, I was also honored for the opportunity to race for the USA again, to have another international race experience, and to try something new for me.

(Statue of the 'Mountain Spirit', located in center of Szklarska Poreba)

There were many reasons this was a completely stupid idea.  First off, there were only 4 weeks between my Wales race and the Poland race...and I raced a 100-miler in Vermont between the two - would my body be recovered and ready to run strong?  Also, this is yet another unfunded USATF team, so I would have to pay for this trip out of pocket - an expensive gamble on questionably recovered legs.  Lastly, Brian wouldn't be joining me on this adventure, and I really rely on his support, so I knew that would be a struggle to travel and run solo.

On the positive side, I had to think about the fact that I might not ever get an opportunity like this again, so I should live in the moment and go for it!  I mean, how can you pass up the chance to race in the USA singlet - it's a dream!  The race was on my birthday which was poetic and gave me a sense that there was some divine reason I should go.  I have also always wanted to try a mountain marathon, and I've always wanted to compete in a true Europian race (with their passion and enthusiasm for trail running) - and this was both!

So, in the week before Vermont 100, I tentatively shopped for refundable plane tickets, and found tickets that allowed me to travel in ideal times - and were several hundred dollars lower than any other option.  Again, all signs were pointing towards going to Poland.  I ran strong at Vermont 100, but I quickly focused on recovery in hopes that I could rebound fast - and I luckily found that while I was sore post-race, I didn't have any specific pains or injuries (just lots of chafing!).  I lucked out that this summer I happened to do a large volume of training with my WMDP mountain runners (who, I'll brag, won the Team National Title at the USA Mountain Running Championship!), so I knew that of any recent year, I was much more prepared for this type of race than other years.  I did a speed workout a few days before I left, and was pleased to find that my legs already felt springy and ready to race (and only 10-days post 100-miler).

(Team USA presented at the Opening Ceremony)

 

Anyway, fast forward...I got on a plane, traveled across the world, and decided to accept this honor and run my first mountain marathon in Poland!  I was so anxious as I was traveling - and realized that I hadn't traveled or done a race without Brian since I'd met him, so it had been a while that I'd really stood on my own without my safety net.  It feels a bit scary to even admit it, but the thought of traveling and racing alone really frightened me, but it also made me even more determined to be strong - I focused on one step at a time. 

Once I traveled across the country and landed in Prague, then drove across the border into Poland, I ran into my first difficulty.  The directions to the hotel weren't great, and I spent an hour driving around Szklarska Poreba before I could find someone who could draw and jesture the directions to the hotel to me.  It wouldn't have been so challenging for me, but I was alone having traveled for the past 24 hours (after I ran then worked a full day before leaving), no one spoke or understood english, I couldn't understand any road signs that might have given me a clue as to where I should go, and I didn't have Brian to lean on for support.  By the time I reached the hotel and found my teammates, I was tired, stressed, and emotionally on edge from the travel and frustration of finding the hotel.  Luckily, they immediately welcomed me and got me some food and started telling me all about their preview of the course and what I should expect.  At that point, they were conversing with me in english, so that was very soothing and really all I needed.

I crashed hard.  We spent Friday visiting the town including a hike/run to a nearby waterfall, lunch of traditional Polish potato cakes, and shopping for Polish pottery.  The town of Szklarska Poraba is a quaint ski town that appeared to be a bit of a tourist destination - the streets were full of visitors, push carts selling perogies and potato cakes, and souvenier shops.  The architecture was very...Polish...just a beautiful place to be visiting.  The small narrow roads reminded me of the small ski towns that the Tour de France riders snake through during the month of July.  From the balcony in my hotel room, I could see the climb I would embark on the next day, as well as the lodge at the top of the final climb.  It was frightening and exciting at the same time.

(Pre-race interview)

Friday evening, we attended the opening ceremony at the race starting line.  It was exciting to see athletes from different countries, all proudly wearing their uniforms.  The Scottish team brought a bagpipe that played as they were introduced and walked on stage.  The entire USA team was also interviewed for a documentary that a local woman was doing about the World Championship race.  I don't think I'll ever get used to this sort of treatment.

I awoke on race day with a sore throat - it hurt to swallow.  I was devistated, but tried to shake off the negative thoughts.  I drank plenty of fluids and tried to convince myself that it was all in my head and I would be ok...maybe?  We drove over to the course and I tried to stay calm as hundreds of athletes were all nervously hanging out and preparing for the race.  At some point, Amber and Sesalie (two other team USA runners) came up to me and wished me a happy birthday - I was so focused on the race and my throat that I had forgotten that it was my birthday! 

As I was waiting in line for the bathroom before the race, a gentleman approached me and asked me if I had raced in Wales (at the World Trail Running Championships).  I told him I had - I figured he must be a team manager or related to an athlete who was also doing both of these races.  Nope...turns out that he had a friend who also did the Wales race, and while he was in the White Mountains on the Wales race day discussing his friend's race, the summit steward overheard and told him that his daughter was also racing in Wales.  That summit steward was my dad!  The active/outdoorsy community can sometimes be very small, but it was encouraging to be so far from everyone and everything I knew, and to know that my dad was meeting random strangers and bragging about me being here - supporting me from afar.

(My happy birthday reminder from the USA ladies.  Oh yeah, it's my birthday!)

 

*To be continued - the actual race report will be in Poland Part 2.

Sweatfest 2013 - Vermont 100 Race Report

Brian's Vermont 100 Thoughts

No this is not the review of a new porno, although it does contain stories of nudity and chaffed genatalia. This is my 2013 VT 100 Race report.

On the Friday before the 100, Amy and I were home getting ready for the race. The temp outside was 97 degrees and I was worried. How was I going to run 100, in this heat. We packed up the car and headed to VT with the thermometer pinned around 98. Getting to VT the temp relaxed to a cool 89. Going to sleep that night was difficult, sweat was dripping off my body while I was just laying there. I tossed and turned getting about3 hours of sleep the night before the race. 

We awoke to a humid morning. I hurried to tie my shoes while fireworks were going off 5 min prior to the start. The gun went off and we headed down into the fog. While running down the first series of dirt trails the humidity was stifling, sweat was already dripping from my arms. This was not a good sign of things to come. The realization of running all day in the heat dripping with sweat crept into my mind and killed my spirits, I knew that this was going to be a day of survival. 

I kept the pace easy and relaxed and just ran on feel. Before I knew it I was on the race reroute section in Woodstock. I forgot how long the road section was through the town, I felt like forever to get back on the small dirt roads and this was another dagger in my mind about not wanting to run this race.

Running into Pretty House (mile 22.5) covered in sweat with soaked clothing, I saw my crew of Nick and Steph and asked how much off the pace I was from last year. Nick said a few minutes and I headed off down the road. This stuck in my head, I needed to pick it up a little to the next aid at 31 and see how many guys I could catch.

 

I picked it up a little and caught Bob Ayers just out of the aid station. 9 miles later, passing no one else, I started to get frustrated. I felt like I was working somewhat hard, but no one came back to me. I went through Stage Road (mile 31) in 10th or so and kept pushing just a little bit. My feet started squishing in my shoes not from running in water, but from the sweat running down my legs and onto my socks. I could feel the sweat dripping off my shorts and onto my calves – gross.

At Camp 10 Bear (mile 47.6), I still saw none of the leaders and I still was in 10th. I told Nick that I felt like crap and he said that I looked the same as everyone else. He said that there was of bunch of guys just a couple of minutes ahead. I changed my shirt hoping that would help my spirits, but still had the soggy shorts. I ran out of 10 Bear in low spirits. Ryan Welts ran with me up the hill out of the aid station. We passed Ian Sharman looking like death up the hill and this helped with my mental state a bit. I figured let’s see what I can do. I squished down the road and soon enough passed Justin Angle, then Josh Katzman. I figured I would see Josh again sinc he looked strong, Justin looked bad with a bit of a limp.

(Getting support from Ryan Welts)

Now I felt like I was making progress and I had a little spring in my step. I felt like crap, but figured everyone else probably feels like crap too. I caught up to Jeff Hanson running the 100k and tried to make conversation up the long climb. Every question I asked him he answered with “what”. I started to get frustrated, either I was not making complete sentences or he was hard of hearing.

At 54 mile aid station I passed Sebastian. The aid station workers told me now I was in 4th, and 2nd and 3rd was just a couple of minutes ahead. I headed off into the filed looking for the guys, but there were a bunch of 100k runners ahead confusing me who was the 100k and who was in the 100. Running down the road my penis stated to chafe, in a few miles it started to really hurt. I knew that this could be a killer if I didn’t do anything until the finish. At the aid at 59 I grabbed a band aid from my crew and wrapped it around my penis and headed off. Relief, I couldn’t believe how much better this felt.

Around 65 I saw Nick Clark and Jason Lantz ahead. I tried to sneak up behind them, but I think Nick saw me because they picked up the pace a little. It felt like forever to reel him in. I finally caught him and passed him with some weak authority. Down the hill back into Camp 10 Bear (mile 70), Nick flew by me. With broken spirits I started to feel worse with no energy. I mostly walked the uphill back into 10 Bear.

I coasted down the hill into 10 Bear almost getting run over by a pickup towing a trailer. I made it into 10 Bear to my crew looking like death. I couldn’t take the sweaty shorts anymore. I yelled out “no one look!” and stripped down naked in front of everyone. I grabbed a new shirt and some super short shorts and put them on. My pacer Chad Denning and I headed off to 77.

With Chad at my side I felt better. I gave me something to focus on and the miles passed by. We got to 75 mile aid and while filling bottles Nick Clark came up from behind be. Hmm, I thought he was ahead of me. I still felt like crap, but kept moving since now I was in 3rd. We shuffled off up to West Winds (mile 78) and it started to cool off and rain.

Going out of West Winds I felt like crap and wanted to drop. Chad and I were slowly moving through the trails and we could see Jason Lantz ahead. I told Chad I didn’t care that we could see Jason since I felt so low on energy, he persuaded me just to keep moving. We saw him just for a few minutes and it must have gave him inspiration because he took off.

(Finally having the company of Chad)

 

We weaved our way though the muddy trails, we both paused and noticed that we had not seen a confidence marker for a while. ‘Oh shit’ I though to myself, ‘I feel like death and now we are off course.’ I told Chad, “I am staying here, you figure it out”. Chad darted down the trail while I stared off into the trees like a zombie. I sat down on a rotten log and drank my whole bottle of hammer recovery. After a few minutes I could faintly hear yelling and headed towards the general direction. I finally found Chad after a few minutes of him yelling my name. We were now back on course, but I had lost some time. The 100k lead female I had passed a few miles back was now just behind me.

Chad said we had lost 5 min, I thought it was probably more. Whatever it was, it cost a lot of effort. The thought rang through my brain how hard I had worked to catch Nick Clark and now he was ahead of me, now Josh Katzman could be ahead of me too. Shit, now it was time to make up the lost time and I actually felt better. I don’t know if it was the recovery drink or sitting on the log or what but now I had some life back in my body. I told Chad I was feeling good and we took off. We moved well down the trail and onto the road section. Chad checked his GPS watch and he said were running 8:00 minute miles, we knocked of 4 miles of low 8’s in a row. It felt great.

Somewhere around 85 miles I paid for the effort. I didn’t have any more recovery drink only sugary sports drinks and gels. They just didn’t work anymore. No matter how many gels or sports drink I did, I felt the same – no energy. My stomach could no longer process any more sugar. It felt like forever to reach Bill’s (mile 89). Chad asked me what I wanted so he could take off and tell Nick to get it ready. I realize he was trying to help, but my brain could not process all the questions and I did not want to think about it or talk. I said some mumbled words about honey stingers and body glide and a new shirt and Chad darted off. Without him around I slowed to a crawl. I shuffled into Bill’s and stepped on the scale.

(Chad offers support)

I hit my absolute low. I could hardly move. I walked down the trail wanting to turn back and drop. I drank another bottle of Hammer recovery, but this time it did nothing. I complained to Chad how bad I felt and told him I wanted to stop and drop. As we turned on the road, my stomach felt bad I saw some big leaves and knew that it was a sign to take care of business. While squatting in the woods Nick drove by and stopped and talked to Chad. Chad told Nick I was fine and he drove away. I was mad at Chad for that, I wanted to get in that car and be done.

We started to run again and make some progress, I thought to myself only 11 more miles, I can do this. In one of the field sections around 90 I saw someone behind me. Oh well I thought, I have been moving so bad it was only a matter of time before I was caught. It was Ian Sharman, he had come back from the dead. We ran together for a mile or so and then he slowly dropped me on a hill. I didn’t really care about the spot I just wanted the pain in my body to end.

Mile 96, finally I saw Nick again. He told me I only had 4 miles to go and it gave me some spring in my step. At the time I thought it was 5 miles to go from the last aid. We ran down the road and I started to look for the table on the left side of the road that started the last trail section. From the table I thought it was 3 miles of trail to the finish. It felt like forever to get to the table, turn after turn it never came. I got mad at Nick, and thought that he told me the wrong distance to the finish. We finally saw the table and Chad said we had 1.5 miles to go. I scolded him not to bullshit me because I was convinced it was 3 miles from the table. A short while down the trail we saw the sign with 1 mile to go, I apologized to Chad about snapping at him.

(Crossing the finish line, finally the day is over)

We hit the final road crossing up the hill from hell and back onto the trail. We could smell the finish, the gallon jugs on the side of the trail the sight of the finish banner though the trees, this day was almost over. We hit the final stretch and jogged to the finish.

I sat down on the ground depleted. My time was over an hour slower than last year but this effort felt a lot harder. I took off my shoes and headed to the med tent. I laid down on a cot and felt the aching of my legs, feet and the burning of my chaffed body. I laid like a zombie for a couple of hours and wondered how Amy was doing.