November 3rd--Stinson Beach 25 K trail run

This is a very long report. If you like the nitty-gritty, without all the effort, I finished 25K (about 15.5 miles) in 3:08:20, placing 6th out of 14 women in my age group, and 62nd out of 102 runners overall (male and female). It wasn't at all like I'd expected to finish, and if you want to know why, you'll have to do the work and read on...

Well, my understanding of a trail run has changed considerably from when I registered for the race. I thought I could run it similar to how I run my training runs--push hard up the hills with endurance. However, I found my body challenged in ways I didn't even know were possible.

To start, the endurance started before we even got to the race, as the road there was very windy, and I tend to get carsick. While I was just queasy, Erik lost it in the car, about 20 minutes before we got there. I passed him back a bag to catch some, but a lot of it coated him. We were cutting it kind of close for time, though, so we gave him some water, opened all the windows, and waited to clean him up until we got there. Poor guy!

The race started on the beach, right near the water, so we officially started at sea level. From the beginning it was mostly uphill. The first three miles was almost pure torture, and the second-hardest section of a run I've ever done. (just wait, I'll get to the first hardest!) There were some almost cruel areas, like after running up a big hill, there was a steep downhill. Which might seem like a good thing, until you realize that: it's so steep there are logs cutting the trail, so you can't really get up any good speed unless you're a skilled downhill hurdler; and you know that you will have to go back up the same distance you just went down, and more. One runner near me at the time said it was referred to as "insult hill", which seemed very appropriate.

The first 3 miles was mostly wooded, which is one of the best parts of the run--it was cool! I had to duck under at least 15 trees (I stopped counting), and it was really full of rocks, tree roots, and holes. We had to climb up a wooden ladder that was almost parallel to the ground. It really seemed like about 6 miles straight uphill. There were a few sections of stone stairs where I had to walk up, but so did everyone else.

At mile 3, there was a station with water. I grabbed a cup and drank about 4 oz of water before continuing on. We had climbed up 1,800 feet (though there were several downhills in that time, so overall we climbed more than that!), and it was finally time for an extended downhill. I was expecting to be able to run it quickly.

However, the reality of a trail run set in. It's hard to run fast downhill when there are a multitude of rocks, tree roots, holes, and cut-backs with which to contend. It was also personally hard for me because I get in a zone the first part of my runs, normally, and my zone was set at slow, so I had to fight that for awhile. I also had a stomach cramp, the first time I've ever run with a stomach cramp. It was hard to breathe, and it would have been murder going uphill, but I was able to maintain going downhill. I finally got into a good groove near the end, when I twisted my sore ankle for the first time. I had twisted it earlier in the week during a morning run, but it had been OK. It hurt, but not too bad, so I jogged on it a little just to test it out.

Right then, I saw a runner in front of me who was obviously limping, and she was really upset. She said she had been in 3rd place for the marathon when she sprained her ankle. I walked with her for 5 minutes. She was hurting, but mostly just really really disappointed and sad. I encouraged her, offered to have her sit down and I'd go to the ranger station for her, but she was able to keep walking.

After that 5 minute walk, we'd entered Muir Woods, where it was freezing! It was so cold there, because of the huge redwood trees. We were only there briefly, but it was a nice feeling to feel so cool. My stomach cramp went away while I was walking, and my ankle felt fine.

The first stretch of the next uphill was nice. It was gradual, and I felt a lot better about it. We'd gone mostly downhill for the past 5 miles, and was feeling great. Mentally I was thinking that perhaps I'd done the hardest part already, and the second big climb (of about 4 miles) wouldn't be that bad.

When it got a bit harder, I ended up behind someone doing the marathon, but walking up the hill. I could still run up it, but I was slower, so I slowed down a bit and stayed behind him, because he was chatting with me. He said he'd done a 100 mile run in Utah recently (wow!), but after 20 years of running, he just doesn't like running uphill anymore, so he walks. He was walking fast enough that I could comfortably jog behind him, though. He gave me some advice about training for the trail marathon I'm registered for in March (because at that point I was seriously questioning that decision!), and then it got a bit easier again, and I was ready to pass him.

I ran at a nice uphill pace--not fast, but not really slow--for the next while. It started getting harder, though, with a lot of stone or wood steps uphill (which are so hard to run). I was reaching the point where I started thinking I was absolutely crazy. Finally, I had to give in and walk; it was incredibly steep and my legs were on fire and felt like jelly, all at the same time. There was supposed to be a water fountain at mile 7--and there was, but it wasn't working. I really needed fuel, but I had nothing with me. I'd wanted to go to the running store and get some gu yesterday, but it closed before we got there, so I didn't have any. I had planned on putting an energy bar in my pocket, and I would have had plenty of time to eat it as I plodded up the hill, but I'd forgotten in the wake of the carsick experience. So I had nothing except the promise of water, Gatorade, and food at mile 11.

I walked and jogged when possible until I hit approximately mile 10 (I have no way of knowing, but that's what it felt like), when I had to just walk. In the whole time I was walking, though, only 1 person passed me, and everyone I could see was walking, too. We climbed up to 1,600 feet, but it was more abrupt at the end than even the first three tortuous miles.

Finally! It was sweet relief at mile 11. I downed at least 24 ounces of gatorade (maybe more, it's fuzzy!) and a little water. They also had a nut-raisin-m&m trail mix, so I ate a few handfuls of that, and put a handful in my back pocket, too, for later. It didn't take me too long to be ready to go, probably because I knew most of the climbing was done. I had 4 1/2 miles left, and I was ready to go.

Of course, "trail run" got me again. I really wanted to fly (there were a few uphills, still, but they weren't that bad--more like I'm used to in my training runs). However, most of it was really challenging still. Even though it wasn't making my legs feel like foreign objects, there were so many road hazards. About 2 miles into it, I twisted my ankle again. It hurt a lot right away, and I had to walk it off. It was hard, though, because it was an area with a lot of wood stairs, and I had to try to coordinate my walking so that I didn't lead down the stairs with my sore ankle. Of course wood stairs aren't evenly spaced. There were also several "tree root stairs"--where the tree roots were just crazy in the path, and I had to go slowly just to navigate my way through.

Thankfully, my ankle felt better in just a few minutes, so I was able to run again--in the places where I could run, at least. And thankfully again, the trickiest downhill part was nearly done. The last mile was a bit easier of a downhill, and I was able to go faster. There was another kind of hazard, though; people hiking! There were large groups of hikers on very narrow trails. Most of them stepped off the trail for me, but sometimes it took them a minute.

The majority of both downhills I didn't see any other runners. It was a very surreal feeling. I'd just start thinking I'd made a wrong turn somehow (there weren't any turns, but it's easy to get paranoid!) when I'd see another orange ribbon marking the trail. I felt really fast at the end, but I had no idea how long I'd been running. I wonder if I would have pushed myself any harder uphill if I'd known my time, or if it would have just discouraged me.

At any rate, I understood why the times were so much slower than I figured they would be for the winners in last year's race. After starting the race immediately uphill, I quickly revised my goal finish to 2:45. But walking for a mile (and maybe a little more), plus twisting my ankle twice really slowed me down.

Regardless, I truly feel like a champion. That course was far harder than anything I'd even like to hike, and I managed to run it! And it was 15.5 miles, after all. I feel great, and I felt great at the end--I could have ran farther (provided it wasn't really uphill much more, that is!)

The best part of the end of the race was that we finished in the park next to the beach, and I was able to go down for a near-immediate ice bath, since the water was freezing! Carl, the kids, and my mom had played on the beach while I was running, and after I'd sufficiently cooled down, we left.

Of course, the endurance wasn't done. I moved to the front seat (my mom moved to the back), but I got incredibly carsick. I didn't lose it, but I felt awful for the entire trip, even after we'd left the winding section (which was about 12 miles long). We stopped at Chipotle for an early dinner, and I was never more glad to get out of the car! After a bit I could even eat some food.

Overall, a great experience. There were moments when I thought I was crazy, but I feel great now. I feel like I ran 15.5 miles, even though the hills absolutely killed me and I thought I'd be really sore. My ankle is fine, it doesn't hurt at all. And I actually started training today for the trail marathon at the end of March, proving I am, after all, crazy.