About a year ago, when reading Anton Krupicka's blog I noticed he was wearing some funky blue shoes. Thinking that they were the next version of the MT110 I zoomed into the picture and noticed that it appeared to just be a booty of some sort. We now know that it was both. It was a MT110 with a built in booty for winter conditions. New Balance recently introduced that shoe, the 110 Boot, also known as the MT110WR.
Same tread as MT110
Recently New Balance was kind enough to send me a pair to test and write about. (Disclosure: These shoes were a media sample provided free of charge). Since todays weather was so incredibly miserable I figured it would be the perfect time to give them a proper test.
As the year draws to a close and the promise of new and improved trail shoes hangs in the air, I decided that it would be appropriate to make a list of my top 5 Trail Running shoes of the year. This year the traffic on my blog has increased drastically, and my most read posts are related to shoe reviews. As a result of that, I have had an increase in manufactures sending me shoes to test and review and/or evaluate.
I only have one absolute rule for what goes on my feet. The difference between the heel and forefoot cannot exceed 5mm. My sweet spot for a long distance running shoe is a lightweight upper combined with enough cushioning to run for hours upon hours at a time. I have sorted my list based on the number of miles I have put on that model this year. As of this writing I have run 3048 miles. Over 1500 of those miles were run in these 5 shoes. With that, I give you my top 5, in descending order.
Salomon S-Lab Sense
#5 Salomon S-Lab Sense. (56.2 miles)
Pros - Light weight, snug fit, great rock protection, bad ass looking
Cons - Traction could be better, $200 MSRP, reported short life
I love the way these shoes feel. I have run few miles in them because I'm trying to "save" them for just the right race and training situations. You can read my review of them here.
Bryon Powell is such a tease. He runs irunfar.com and is always getting the scoop on new shoes. When he posted pictures of the upcoming New Balance Minimus MT1010 Amp's I shot off an email to my contact at NB asking about them. What I was told was it was built on the Minimus last with the same weight and fit as the MT110's, but with an extra layer of cushioning.
Since the New Balance MT110 has just started being released I thought it might be relevant to write up a quick update on how mine are holding up. You can read my original review HERE. I have used many pairs of shoes this year, but I still managed to put on over 400 miles on this pair that was given to me by New Balance in August.
Before I get to far into this post, let me say again how much I love these shoes. Until this shoe I have never run 100 miles without significant blisters. The NB ML1 last which these shoes (and the entire Minimus line) are built upon fit me like a glove. I wore these shoes for the first 70 miles of the Leadville 100 in August and then the first 50 miles of the Bartram 100 in December (which was my first 100 mile win). If they had a little more cushioning I would have worn them the entire way. I'm going to resist gushing about these shoes, rather just show pictures of how they are holding up. What I will say is that my enthusiasm for this shoe has not waned from my original review.
And now for the best part. They are holding up incredibly well. For a shoe that is almost as light as a racing flat and less than $100 they are an incredible value. I think that a lot of us have found that lightweight usually equals less durable. This has not been the case with the MT110's. I have used them on every type of terrain imaginable. From the rocky Leadville Trails to New England mud, they have handled everything I've thrown at them.
Side view. No tears, rips or holes in either shoe.
View of Sole.
Rubber on bottom shows much less wear than I would expect from a trail shoe with 400 miles on it.
Exposed EVA (blue) shows wear, but doesn't effect performance.
Heel wear. Similar to forefoot.
Inside of shoe is in remarkable shape. For such a lightweight shoe it is amazing that the inside has no rips or tears.
Another inside view
The only area showing any wear. This is a tiny spot that showed up a while ago and has not got worse.
Honestly, I'm amazed at this shoe. MSRP is $84.99 as seen on the NB Website. I have paid close to that for an off road racing flat that after 100 miles was destroyed. I think this shoe presents one of the best values of a lightweight trail shoe available on the market. For any of you on the fence about this shoe because of concerns of reliability, I hope this helps.
It was now 6pm as Team Robert gathered up their gear I said my goodbye's and thank you's to my family. It was starting to get cold and the sun was rapidly setting. I was really sad to see my family go, but at the same time I felt like I hit a milestone by reaching the hand off point for the last section of the run. Only 50 miles to go!
Hoka Bondi B - my "Clown Shoes"
I changed into my Hoka Bondi B shoes. My Brooks Pure Grits had worked great for the last 40 miles, but I was just looking forward to the extra cushioning that the Hoka's give. We said goodbye to the girls, and then Josh and I took off down the Goffstown rail trail. As we ran into the dark I felt a sense of relief to be running with somebody. Our conversation flowed like water and I was very thankful to be running with Josh. We marveled at the trails steep drop off and my shin was feeling much better since changing shoes. I was very optimistic that this would be the year that I finished the run!
Goffstown Rail Trail during the day.
By the time we finished the rail trail and headed into Manchester it was a little before 8pm. I was in great spirits and running with Josh was really helping the time fly by. As we ran though the upper village towards the bridge we joked about how nuts we looked. As people walked into stores they seemed a little confused by seeing two guys with backpacks, reflective gear and headlights running through town.
When we hit the long hill going away from town up Bridge street we decided to just walk. I had forgotten how steep that hill gets! Again I struggled with having patience. It seemed like it was taking forever to get up that hill. As we got near the top the moon was incredible. It was almost full and it was HUGE. It really looked like the moon was sitting on top of the hill. Little things like that really distract me from how my body feels when doing a big run like this. I try to appreciate those moments as much as possible and when I do I kind of forget the physical pain for a moment.
Loni and Leah
As we got to the top of the hill Leah was ready with food and drink. I hung out there for a while and was getting pretty tired. Grant decided to run with me for a while and Josh took a break. I had only met Grant once. Last year in the winter all of us ran the Goffstown rail trail together. Grant is a really nice guy, full of enthusiasm for running. As we made our way over to the rail trail we got to know each other more and talked about shoes a lot. It turns out that he reads my blog and knew a lot of things about my life from it.
Grant
I was getting more and more tired and I don't think that Grant had ever been with somebody who has already run almost 70 miles. I was getting grumpy which anybody in my situation goes through. At one point I said something about getting tired or my feet hurting...who knows...and Grant said something like "Don't worry my job is to just keep you going". For whatever reason I snapped back at him and said "No...that's not your job! This isn't a race and I don't need anybody to keep me going!"
Things got a little quiet after that. This is why I've stopped using pacers in races this year. When you run all day and night you get raw. As much as you would like not to, you sometimes just don't have the energy to control what comes out of your mouth. I felt bad later when I found out that Grant said something to Josh about it. Josh laughed and told him that was part of the deal when you help somebody do something like this. In Ultras there is a saying that Crew stands for Cranky Runner Endless Waiting. It's a tough job.
Rail Trail during the day
I got to the entrance of the Rockingham Rail trail a little past 9pm. I was really looking forward to getting off the pavement for the next 25 miles. As I sat in a chair I realized that my feet were killing me. My shin was killing me and I was just plain tired. I was getting grumpy, and had long stopped even trying to be polite. Everybody helping was awesome, offering me food, refilling my bottles, etc.. I was really glad to have them along.
Rail Trail in the winter
Finally I headed out on the rail trail. I had only seen the trail in the winter so I had no idea what type of surface it was going to be. I should have expected the obvious. It was mostly crushed stone....like a rail trail, duh. Loni had taken over for Grant, but was riding a bicycle. She is a great person to have on an endeavor like this. She could tell when I didn't feel like talking and was content enough just riding with me. When I did feel like talking the conversation flowed easily. I was psyched to have the protection of the Hoka shoes on this surface and knew I had made the right choice with wearing them.
Unfortunately after a couple of miles we came upon an area that was completely flooded out. There was no way around it. I didn't know what to do because the Hokas are terrible when wet. They don't drain well. Until now my feet had been dry all day and I had no blisters. Hindsight being 20/20 I should have just ridden Loni's bike across or even taken my shoes off. But I just dove in and walked through it.
It wasn't 5 minutes later that the blisters started. Now I was getting bummed out. I still had about 40 miles to go and needed to do something to make sure they didn't become a problem. But I really wanted the protection of the Hokas. At this point there was nothing that I could do. In a couple of miles we saw the crew at one of the road crossings and I changed shoes. But here is where I made a stupid decision. Since I was worried about blisters I put on my best fitting shoes, the new New Balance MT110's. They fit awesome, but offer almost no cushioning or protection.
New Balance MT110's
As soon as we headed back out on the trail I knew I had made a mistake. I decided to just suck it up and thought that things would get better as I adapted to them. I felt every single rock on every single step. Now my feet hurt really, really bad. No, I mean really bad. I slowed down for a bit, walking more than running.
Josh had joined me and Loni at the last stop and once again our conversation had lifted my spirits. I decided to put on my music. As soon as I did I felt better. I took off and caught Josh by surprise. I was singing and they were laughing at me. Josh and I did a rendition of The Greatest Song in the World by Tenacious D. It was ironic because Sherpa John and I had sung the same song on our first RANH.
Josh, smiling as usual
As Josh and Loni were commenting on how I had come back to life I explained to them that this is usually what happens to me in a 100 mile race. But in a unfortunate prediction of what was to come I also said, "who knows, I feel good now but I might blow up spectacularly not that far down the road". About a mile later I was walking again. My feet started hurting so badly that I was shuffling along extremely slowly. I was looking at the side of the trail for a place to sit. All I wanted to do was to get off my feet.
I started getting really impatient. Josh had been calling ahead to the crew truck to find out how much further we had to go before we could see them. I had to get out of these shoes. I looked at my watch and couldn't believe how short of a distance I had gone in the last hour. Finally we came to a place that I could sit. The pain in my feet was incredible. Grant biked to us from the truck with my Brooks Pure Grits, which I had used earlier with a lot of success.
Brooks Pure Grit
After a short break and the change of shoes my feel felt better, but I was still moving slowly. I was also freezing because I had slowed down so much. At 1:15am we saw the support truck again. It had taken me 4 hours to go 11 miles, but in my sleep deprived brain I did the math wrong and thought that it had taken me 4.5 hours to go 5 miles. That was enough for me to feel overwhelmed. I got into the warm truck and tried to stop shivering uncontrollably. After a few minutes the crew checked on my to see how I was doing. I told them that I was done. 80 miles was a good day and I felt fortunate to have the opportunity to run all day with the help of my friends and family.
I didn't feel bad at all about calling it quits at that point. I had achieved exactly what I had been after. I was looking for an adventure and to see NH in a way that I had never seen it before. Not only did that happen, but I was once again reminded how much love and support I have in my life. You just can't be in a bad mood or upset when you have that.
Sunrise over the Ocean at the finish
Last Saturday night, at midnight, Josh, Leah, Loni and I drove out to the place where I called it quits and finished the run. It took five and half hours to go the last 28 miles and I had an incredible time running through the night. As I watched the sun rise over the ocean I was again overcome with how fortunate I am to have the friends and family that I do. Thank you to everybody who helped me during my Potentially Painful Summer.
This is what I had been focused on since the first time I looked into the Bear 100 in Logan UT.
Course profile for The Bear 100
Of all the 100 mile races I've done, I've never tackled an elevation profile like this one. I was terrified that I wouldn't be in good enough shape to handle it. Since this was the last race in my "Potentially Painful Summer" I really wanted to do well. My A Goal was to break 24 hours, a task that I knew would not be easy.
I felt very rested from Leadville, which was five weeks ago. I had many very good runs, and felt like I had lots of "pep in my step" on my trail runs. I was refreshed because the bugs were finally gone from the woods and almost every run had been on trails. It is amazing how much less the trails beat you up than the roads. My last long run was at Pats Peak where I did a bunch of loops and felt awesome. I left Wednesday afternoon full of confidence.
I wouldn't have Amy and Barry, my supercrew, for this race and that worried me a bunch. They know almost by telepathy what I need at these races and take awesome care of me. My original plan was to just make drop bags and do my best with no crew or pacer. But thanks to Facebook an old friend of mine, Scott Johnson, whom I hadn't seen since grade school reached out to me and offered to help.
I warned him multiple times how much being a crew member sucked, but he insisted that he was into it. His boss does triathalons and he helps there. He figured it would be kind of the same thing, just for WAY longer.
Scott, whom I hadn't seen for almost 30 years!!
I flew into Salt Lake City UT on Wednesday and stayed overnight in a hotel near the airport. In the morning I saw Scott for the first time in 29 years. After grabbing breakfast we headed to the local running store where I picked up a new pair of Hoka's just in case my foot got worse. Oh yeah, I forgot to put in that little tidbit. In the week before the race I noticed that my left foot felt like it was bruised under the forefoot. I figured that I must have stepped on a rock and bruised it, but it wasn't getting any better. On one of my visits to my PT, Brett Copeland, I casually mentioned it to him. After he examined my foot he got a very worried look on his face and immediately sent me to get x-rays. He suspected that I had either a stress reaction or a stress fracture and wanted to see if he could see anything.
He looked at the x-rays and couldn't see anything but told me that it didn't mean I didn't have a stress fracture. He told me to be carefull and mindfull of the pain and asked me to keep him posted. This sat fairly heavily on my mind because the next day I ran 4 miles and it started hurting only 2 miles into the run.
I tried not to worry about it. Sometimes our minds have a way of making a big deal out of nothing and I didn't want to focus more energy on it. I got the Hokas because of the awesome cushioning and hoped that if I had a problem they would help me get through the race.
After that we drove two hours to Logan where we found our hotel. After prepping my drop bags we headed over to the RD's house which was actually a fish hatchery. We dropped off our bags and then attended the pre-race meeting. The only person I knew at this race was Steve Pero, a long time Ultra runner whom I hadn't seen in a couple of years.
The meeting was so cool. Totally old school. No weigh in. No media. No hype. To get your race number you found the bag on the grass that had your number on it. I loved it. Scott and I grabbed dinner afterwards and I headed to an early sleep. Scott and I were getting along great. It was like we never lost touch. Say what you want about Facebook, but the fact that I could reconnect with an old friend whom I might never had seen again is a result of the incredible global community that they have created.
The morning of the race was beautiful. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was comfortably cool. The race starts out by heading up a paved road for about a mile then hits the trail and goes up from there. Look at the race profile. As we headed up the trail in the dark I started to realize that it was not as steep as I expected. It was kind of cool. Everybody was marching up the moutain and almost nothing was being said. All you could hear was breathing. I'm not that social at these events, I tend to just focus on what I'm trying to do. It was nice and peaceful and I found that my spirits were extremely high. When the sun finally started to rise I could see that we were climbing up a beautiful singletrack surrounded by fall foliage. Now this is what I came for. My legs felt strong, my mind felt calm. Perfect.
On all my previous 100's I carried my voice recorder. Today I decided that I would film videos with my camera so everybody could see what I was going through rather than just hear it. At 2 hours and 36 minutes, right after my first stop at mile 10 or so, I recorded that my foot felt good and it was warming up. During the stop I quickly grabbed an extra gel, at a handfull of nuts, refilled my handheld bottle and was off. I spent less than 2 minutes there. "So far so good" I said as I continued on my trek.
The views were incredible.
At 10:15, after 4 hours and 15 minutes, I pulled into the Leathan Hollow aid station, 19.66 miles into the race. This was the first crewed aid station and the first time that I saw Scott. For his first time ever witnessing an event like this, let along crewing, Scott did great at the first stop. He changed the bladder in my pack and replaced all my needed food with incredible efficiency. I drank a Boost, ate some food at the aid station table while tended to my pack. It was an awesome stop. Total time in the aid station was 2 minutes. Not bad for a rookie!
I headed out down a dirt road that was fairly level and shortly was at the next aid station at mile 22.5. I really don't understand why this station was here. Perhaps because the next one was so far away. Right out of the aid station I started to climb and climb. The sun was now out in full force and I quickly went from doing great to feeling like something was very wrong. At 5 hours and 42 minutes into the race I recorded that it was hot and I was completely exhausted. I was in a bad place and it was way to early to feel this way. I couldn't seem to find the motivation and it felt like there was no meaning to being out here starting to suffer already.
The next time I took out my camera things were not any better. It was less than 30 miles into the race and I said that I felt like I did at mile 70 of Leadville. I wasn't able to run and I didn't know what was the matter. I didn't know if it was my head or my body. I said that "I sure as hell hope it's my body. I'd hate to think it is just my head". I was trying to get my head back to just enjoying the day and the scenery, but the idea of possibly walking for 70 miles was incredibly unappealing. I was already starting to think about dropping and I was fighting to keep the thought out of my head. I was really worried at how I was going to tell everybody who has been so supportive of me that I just didn't "Man up" and finish. The thought of a sub 24 hour buckle to add to my collection was long gone. It was early in the say and I was trying not to admit that I was already in survival mode.
At 6 hours and 56 minutes into the race I had just left the 30 mile aid station. Lo and behold, I was starting to come around. Scott got me quickly in and out again and I changed into my Hokas. The terrain had been much rockier than I had expected and my feet were starting to get sore in the NB MT110's that I was wearing. I really didn't want to change out of those shoes, I love how they feel and I didn't even have the beginning of any blisters. I had been though several small streams and they drained the water really well. I knew that it was a risk putting on my new Hoka Bondi B's, but they offered so much protection I figured why not?
The pattern at the Bear is that you climb forever, reach a peak then descend forever. I had been feeling destroyed on the climbs and then slowly coming back to life on the downhills. One thing that was new for me was the descents went on for miles. It was hard on the quads, but I wasn't having trouble with them. I was however having trouble with the heat. I've been to some hot races and the heat has never bothered me before. For some reason, it was today.
At 8 hours 45 minutes into the race I had just left the mile 36.6 aid station. Once again, I wasn't doing that well. I was having a hard time eating. Everything just was too sweet and combined with the heat I was having a hard time choking down anything. I was tired, not feeling good and once again my thoughts returned to asking why? Why was I out here? I didn't have anything left to prove to anybody, including myself. I just didn't have any motivation and was tired. I was hoping that I would just wake up and things would get better, but it just wasn't happening.
To try to change my mood I started taking pictures of myself. I was hoping that if I found my sense of humor I might pull out of my funk.
Sad Nate
Grumpy Nate
Alas, it was not to be. At the 9 1/2 hour mark I sat down in the brushes beside the trail and recorded this.
This was my moment of truth. At this very moment I decided that I was done. I figure that I was somewhere around 41 miles into the race. I still had to go 5.5 miles to get to the next aid station. I was traveling somewhere around 2-3 miles and hour and this is the view as far as the eye could see.
Although beautiful, it was totally overwhelming. There was nobody around me, no end to the trail in sight and almost no shade to be found. As I continued to walk for another hour I started to realize that I hadn't been eating anything. Everything I had with me was sweet. I couldn't tolerate them. The sports drink in my bottle was hot and disgusting so the only thing I could do was sip the Gatorade in my hydration pack as it was still somewhat less than boiling in temperature.
At some point I realized that I had an EFS flask in the back of my pack. I have never used it but had read that a lot of people used it. I bought some to keep with me just in case. Well, this was that just in case moment. As I took the first swig of it I couldn't believe how bad the stuff was. It tasted like Vicks cough syrup. The bottle is 4 or 5 oz. I managed to get most of it down. In a few moments the trail dumped out to a dirt road that was gradual downhill. I started to run again which felt great. Perhaps I could actually pull out of this tailspin I was in. At the bottom of the hill, right as a trail started, I was overwhelmed with nausea.
I actually started to chuckle. Perfect, just perfect. I took out my camera and began to film. Luckily I didn't actually throw up, but there was a few minutes that I was sure I was going to.
Eventually, after 11 hours and 15 minutes I made it to the aid station 46.6 miles in where Scott was waiting for me. I told him that I was done. He asked if I was sure, which I was. I went to the scoring desk and said "522, dropping". Without so much as a "are you sure?" they said ok. And with that I had now officially quit my first 100 mile race.
I learned more from this race than all the other successful ones this year. I realized that you can't get anything in this world unless you really want it. If you lose your desire for something it just won't happen. My body certainly could have finished this race. My head didn't. At that time I just could not find the reason to keep pushing on.
I've read from many other Ultrarunners that you better have your head ready before you tackle one of these things. Now I finally know what they are talking about. They are never easy and when you have to dig deep you need to have that driving reason front and center in your mind. I will use this lesson in so many aspects of my life before I start something now. When a person is focused and motivated they can do anything. When the focus isn't there it becomes almost impossible.
I was pleasantly surprised when I found myself gazing at the mountains as I drove from Logan to Salt Lake City the next day. After struggling so much in the race, all I wanted to do was pull over and go for a run on those mountain trails. At that moment I realized that I had forgotten how much I love to run. Perhaps if I had just remembered that during the race things would have turned out differently.
I was surprised at how calm I was. For the last few days I was actually itching to run. Having a full five weeks between races had been much better to me than the short three weeks between Western States and Vermont. I felt rested and ready to go.
Last year I flew out a week ahead of time to acclimate. Since I really didn't have any trouble with the altitude I decided to just come out on Thursday this year. Amy and I took a bumpy flight from Manchester to Denver where we met my brother Barry at the airport. I was really psyched to have both of them as my crew. This would be the fourth time they have crewed me together and they know exactly how to take care of me.
So here I am, at 4 in the morning, lined up with 650 other runners about to head down the hill on sixth street in Leadville Colorado. As we took off I felt elated. My body felt strong, but I couldn't help but wonder how I would hold up. Three 100 milers in three months. At what point would my body decide enough is enough? Or would I actually start adapting and getting stronger? Since this is all new to me I had no idea.
New Balance MT110's
As we headed down the road and onto the dirt road towards the lake I concentrated on keeping my heart rate low and my stride light. I had taken a big risk and started the race in a pair of New Balance MT110 early production shoes that I had just received a week before. The longest run I had used them on was 7 miles. I also started in a new type of sock, the Wright Sock, a double layer thinner sock. There is a very common warning that all runners give each other. Don't ever try something new on race day. I threw caution to the wind as I needed to try to do something different to fix the constant blister problem that I have with 100 mile runs. Plus, I absolutely love these shoes. My only concern was that they wouldn't offer me enough cushioning for the full 100 miles. I really didn't think it was that much of a risk because my crew had my Altra's and Dyrmax socks ready for me at each aid station in case I needed them. My plan was to just wear them until there was a problem and then change back into what I knew from there.
I made my way around the lake feeling great. As the trail dumped out onto the road into the first aid station, Mayqueen (mile 13) I looked at my watch and was shocked to see 1:56. Holy crap. Last year I pulled in at 2:08 and I was strong last year!! I ran through the timing section while looking for my crew. They had done the same thing they did last year, bought a bright orange bicycle flag so I could pick them out. It was dawn and the crowd was very loud. I couldn't see them! I ran all the way to the end of the crews and had to turn around and go back to find them.
My mood quickly turned from elation of being so much quicker to slight panic of not being able to find my crew. Every body kept asking me what I needed as I was running backwards against the crowd. I finally saw them, standing three people deep. They seemed shocked to see me. They had been listening to the announcers who had been calling out the runners numbers, but they just didn't hear my number called.
I have to admit, I wasn't in a very good mood at that point. As I grumbled and Amy refilled my gels, Barry struggled to get my water bottle back into the handheld. I grabbed it from him and did it myself. I knew I was behaving like a child, but I was frustrated. As I bolted out of the aid station I realized that I still had my headlight and my winter had on. Damn... That meant I needed to carry the headlight for the next 10 miles until I saw them again at the Fish Hatchery.
As I headed into the Colorado Trail I mellowed out. I still felt awesome and I knew that having my hat and headlight on was no big deal. I forgot all about them and went about running up the rocky climb to the road towards Powerline. As the sun came up I got an incredible view of Silver Lake and then started my decent down Powerline. A few runners passed me as I was being careful and deliberate. I wanted to be sure not to blow my quads out as there was lots of downhill running still to come.
Before long I was out on the road heading to Fish Hatchery, which now has been renamed to "outbound". The station is about 23 miles into the race and I left at a hair under 4 hours. For the next four miles the course is a flat paved road and you can see almost the entire 4 miles in front of you. It is a mental drain to run this section, but I knew that I had to run every step of it because this is where you make up the time that is lost on some of the tough, slow climbs. I put my head down and went to work. In my voice recorder I stated that I felt really good and that I hoped that things would stay this way.
At Vermont I fell apart at mile 21, or about three hours in. I was hoping that I wouldn't have a low point like that and so far so good. It wasn't much after 5 hours that I hit the 30 mile mark. I knew that I was moving well but I didn't know where I was in relationship to last year. The weather was beautiful and I was enjoying the run, even if I was feeling a little low on energy.
Taking the time to get the grit out of my shoes really paid off
At 7 hours and 2 minutes I had just left Twin Lakes, Mile 39.5. My crew switched me from two handheld bottles to my Nathan backpack and I was off to tackle Hope Pass. I was still wearing the NB MT110's and I was psyched at how good they felt. No blisters yet and my feet felt great. The only downside was that I had to take the shoes off at each stop and remove the grit from them. It didn't take long to do and it seemed worth it for what a great fit and feel they had.
As I crossed through the freezing cold streams and headed out towards Hope I was noticing that I was starting to get tired. Not really a big surprise, as running 40+ miles in the high elevation Rockies is sure to make almost anybody tired. It was now hot and sunny without a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day to tackle Hope pass.
At 8 hours and 20 minutes into the race I pulled out my recorder as I passed by a beautiful babbling brook on the way up Hope. I said "This thing is a KILLER!, I'm not even at the tree line yet and I am TIRED!!, Holy crap, this thing just keeps going up and up and up. I am really worked over and I still have the steepest part to go. My God, I'm getting worked over here...."
Audio of me struggling up Hope Pass
It was at this point that I started to notice something that had me very concerned. The tendinitis in my ankle was really starting to flare up. It hadn't bothered me for months and now only 45 miles into the race it was throbbing. In the past when this happened it got worse and worse until it eventually stopped me. I was scared that I was going to have to deal with this pain on top of another 55 more miles of running.
The Llamas at Hopeless
At the Hopeless Aid station (mile 45) I quickly drank some broth, filled my one handheld bottle and headed out to tackle the last 600 feet of the climb. At this point you are above the tree line and the terrain has turned from beautiful woods to a rocky wasteland. It looks like the moon. The elevation here is somewhere around 11,500 and the top of Hope is 12,500.
I got to the top of Hope at exactly 9 hours. I took a few seconds to look around, then started to run down the steep switchbacks that lead down to Winfield. I noticed that there were some clouds forming and I knew that I needed to get my but moving if I wanted to get back over Hope before the typical later afternoon storms blew in. Traveling down the backside of Hope was a blast. The top part of the trail is rocky switchbacks that are runnable. About halfway down the terrain gets very rocky and the last mile or so goes back under the cover of trees, but is very, very steep.
As I was heading down the leaders were just about done with the return trip climb. This is where I get to see how far behind the leaders I was. At this point I was at least 3 hours behind them. Amazing. As I passed a LaSportiva sponsored runner he looked up from the ground and said, "Hey, where did you get those shoes!?!" He was the only one who noticed all day.
As I got to the bottom of the pass and headed out on the dirt road towards Winfield I couldn't help but think that it was almost a carbon copy of last years race for me. The weather was almost exactly the same, I was running in the same spots, I was walking in the same spots and I was roughly at the same exact time. The run up the road seemed easier than last year, and a little less dusty too. The sun was beating down and I was starting to get tired.
At Winfield
I pulled into Winfield at 2:15, or 10 hours and 15 minutes into the race. I weighed in at the medical check to find that I was only 2 pounds lighter than my start weight, which was a good sign. I was keeping up with my eating and drinking. I went over to Amy and Barry's area to eat, drink and restock up my hydration pack. I sat in the chair to clean out my shoes and then realized how tired I was. The sun was beating down on me as Amy put some sunscreen on my back. Barry held an umbrella over me and that helped a lot. I ate a Turkey and Avocado sandwich, drank a Vespa and took one 500mg Tylenol (first one of the day). I spent about 10 minutes there and then it was time to go. I really didn't want to leave. Amy walked with me to the end of the aid station and down the road a little bit. Just as she had turned around I remembered that I wanted to start listening to music. I called back to her asking if she had put it in my pack and she said that she didn't. Oh well, no biggie I thought. I can always just pick it up when I see them the next time.
I ran for the next couple miles down the road and I had just taken the left turn through the parking lot that leads to the beginning of the climb when I heard Amy yelling at me. She had come back with my Ipod!! Sweet!! It was so nice having it and seeing her again so quickly. Now I was ready to rock back up Hope.
Alas, it was not to be. I was doing no Rockin! Last year this is the place that I really started to fade. This year was no different. This climb is so hard and steep. I was stumbling up it, but unlike last year when a lot of people went by me, almost everybody around me was in the same condition. Most worse. Within a mile I had seen people just stopping dead to sit down and others puking their brains out. The guy right in front of my threw up so violently he looked like a fire hydrant. I happened to notice that it was all very clear and I thought to myself, how much water did that guy have to drink to throw all that up? As I passed him I said, "there you go buddy, now you'll feel much better". He grunted at me as I passed and puked again.
I climbed up for what seemed like forever and finally made it to the top at 4:22pm, or 12 hours and 22 minutes into the race. That means that it took me 3 hours and 22 minutes to get from the top of Hope on the outbound to the top on the inbound, which is only about 11 miles!! It was now starting to rain. I thought about putting my Jacket on, but decided to just get moving. I ran down most of the switchbacks to the Hopeless aid station. I stopped and had two cups of noodle soup and a little coke. There were still lots and lots of people coming up Hope and most of them didn't look so good. Some of the runners who were on the way back inbound didn't look so good either.
I was looking forward to this section all day. After all that climbing it is really nice to open up the stride and let it rip. I still didn't have a single blister and that helped my mood considerably, even though I was tired. I cranked up the tunes and let gravity do it's thing. I was singing at the top of my lungs as I FLEW down the trail. I passed a ton of runners and their pacers and just threw caution to the wind. I was having a great time and looking forward to my usual "second wind" that I get as the day wears on.
As I was going through the wet fields heading to Twin Lakes I noticed that I wasn't running as good as last year. Last year this is where I started to get really strong. Now I was struggling to run. I was running behind David Clark and his film crew was running behind me with the camera at our calf level getting footage. I didn't feel like running, but the camera crew was incentive to keep running strong. I pulled into Twin Lakes, 60.5 miles into the race, at 5:44pm. Once again I cleaned out my shoes and switched socks. Amy had a bowl of rice with avocado in it and it was delicious. I ate as much of it as I could. I spent 11 minutes there and then headed towards the short steep climb out.
Amy talking me through a tough patch at Twin Lakes
Amy walked with me. I told her that I wasn't having fun anymore. I was tired. She said that she knew that I wasn't moving as well as last year and that bummed me out. I asked her where she though I was, if I was even in the top 100. She thought I said am I below the top 100 so she said no. I said really? I'm not even in the top 100? That bums me out really bad. Then she looked at me and explained that she meant that I was not OUT of the top 100, I was probably in the top 50 or so still. I gave her a big hug and went back to work. Thank God she explained that to me. I would have spent the next several hours feeling bad for myself.
It turns out that I spent the next several hours just feeling bad. The climb out of Twin Lakes is a long one but once you finally reach the top there is some beautiful single track on the Colorado Trail. It was at this point that I realized that I was having a hard time running. I was running out of energy and I was slowing down. At mile 70 I pulled out my voice recorder and said that I didn't think that I was going to get the big buckle. I couldn't do the math and thought that I only had 7 hours to get the big buckle. I was 16 hours into the run. I eventually realized that I still had 9 hours and decided that I had to harden the f' up and get to it.
I pulled into Treeline, mile 74 at 8:28. It had been dark for about 10 minutes. Last year I got here in the light and it was just getting dark as I left. I couldn't believe that I was only 20-30 minutes behind last year as I was feeling considerably worse. I spent 9 minutes there and headed towards the lonely 4 mile stretch of road towards Fish Hatchery.
I managed to run about 2.5 miles of the 4 miles but by the time I got to the station I was super tired. I changed out of my shoes into my Altras. I still had no blisters, but now that I was walking more the New Balance's were starting to feel thin underfoot and I wanted more cushioning. I was now 76.5 miles into the race and was getting worried. I left the station at 9:44pm and I simply could not run. I only had a little over 7 hours to cover 23.5 miles and I have never been a very strong walker. On top of that, the dreaded Sugarloaf climb was coming up. I knew that I had to cover at least 4 miles an hour to get the big buckle and that just didn't seem like it would happen after I factored in that huge climb.
As I got to the start of Sugarloaf (powerline) I just put my head down and kicked ass. I passed a few people and hoped that when I got to the top I would finally be able to run again. From the top it is mostly downhill and last year I flew through that section. When I finally reached the top I realized that I had made good time and tried to run. I couldn't. I mean, I just could not run. I started to get cold and put on my jacket. Again, I started to get really worried. My A-Goal for this year has been to buckle at all the races. So far I had accomplished that. Last year getting the big buckle had been relatively easy, this year it wasn't feeling so. I wasn't worried about finishing. The only way I wasn't going to finish is if I slowed down radically or had an injury. Even then I vowed that the only way I would quit would be if I missed a cut-off.
Sugarloaf (powerlines) in the daylight. This goes on for almost 3 miles
When I got to the mile or so long stretch before the Colorado trail I finally ran. I passed a few people who had passed me earlier and I thought "finally, I am getting my second wind". It wasn't easy to run, but I hoped that as I did it more I would loosen up. I ran down a small portion of the Colorado trail but from that point I didn't run one more single step of the entire race.
I got to the Mayqueen outbound aid station, mile 86.5 at 12:40. Now I was an hour behind last year and I couldn't run. I kept doing the math. I had 13.5 miles to go and 4:20 to get the big buckle. I can do this. Even walking. I put my head down and walked as fast as I could. A ton of people passed me as I made my way around the lake. I tried not to let it bum me out. At this point I didn't care what place I finished in. I just wanted to cross that line in under 25 hours.
It took me a little more than 1.5 hours to get to the boat ramp, the unofficial aid station between Mayqueen and the finish. My understanding of the course has always been that the boat ramp is about 6 miles past Mayqueen. I realized that if I could keep this pace up I could get the buckle. I don't know why I thought it, but I kept thinking that it was only about 6 more miles to go. I walked hard. My hip flexor hurt. I now had blisters and they hurt. I was so tired when I stopped it felt like the ground was moving. A few times when I got off the trail to let people by I completely lost my balance just trying to stand still. I had stopped eating. And the only thing I cared about was keeping moving forward as fast as I could.
I got to the dirt road ("the boulevard") heading back into town and turned off my headlamp. The half moon was beautiful and the sky was clear with only a few clouds. I couldn't believe how lucky we were. The forecast had called for thunderstorms. I was beat up and exhausted but I had the bit between my teeth and was going to get than damn buckle.
At the first road intersection I couldn't see where to go so I asked a lady who was parked there which way to go. After she showed me I asked her how much further I had. She said about 5 miles. 5 MILES!!!?? I said "NO, can't be, the boat ramp is only 6 miles and I was there a couple miles ago". I must have caught her off guard with the quickness of my answer, or maybe she was just tired, but she then said to me, "YES, I've done this race 8 times and the boat ramp is 8 miles from the end, YOUR WRONG". It took everything I had not to call her an arrogant bitch. Knowing that I was in a pretty raw state, I decided it was best just to ignore her and get out of there.
It took a lot of wind out of my sails. I can't remember how much time I had left at that point but I remember saying out loud "I'm not going to make it". There was nothing I could do but to just keep going as fast as I could. I tried to run, but once again I could only go a few steps. I've never not been able to run before. It was frustrating.
It wasn't too much later that I turned onto 6th street and finally realized that I was going to make it. People along the street didn't even realize I was a runner because I was walking. It's funny, but running down that street in the morning seemed to take about 3 minutes. Walking up it took me forever!! As I approached the finish line Amy appeared with a huge smile. I walked it in with her and crossed the line with her at my side. 24 hours and 34 minutes in 74th place. Merelee placed the finishers medal on my neck and I was done. It was a very anticlimactic finish to an incredible day, but my A-Goal for the Potentially Painful Summer was still intact. I got the big buckle!!
Amy and I at the finish
I learned so much that day. I had to learn to be patient. These races aren't always going to be about running towards the front. Sometimes you just don't have your best day. But I was very proud of myself for not ever giving up. In having pride in finishing what I started to do, regardless of what the result was. Once again I owe everything to the support I received from Amy and Barry. Thank you both from the bottom of my heart.
