Runalong

So, first my life was upended by the installation of new wood floors, requiring us to abandon our kitchen and living room for a couple weeks. Well worth it, I might add!

Then I got sick. Not just the usual bothersome cold, but the knock-me-down and confine-me-to-quarters-for-several-days sort of "cold" like I haven't suffered through in a decade or more. No running for Markie! (No blogging either, in case you didn't notice: Sorry, but when I get sick I just have nothing to say).

Last Monday I woke up feeling OK but a little blah. I headed out for my first run in ten days and it wasn't bad. And when I got home the blahs were gone. That blah feeling? I remember that. It's how I used to feel all the time before I started running. Back then I wouldn't have called it blah, I just thought it was normal. It only seems blah in comparison to how I feel most of the time now. New Year's Resolution anyone?

Tuesday morning I woke up with sore quads (quadriceps are the big muscles in the front of your thighs, the ones that hurt after a lot of downhill running). Sore quads after an easy, flattish 6-mile jog? Not good! My main objective this fall has been to toughen up my quads in preparation for the 24,000 feet of steep downhill running at the HURT 100 next month.

OK, they'll get better after a few days, right? Wrong. I ran 10 miles Tuesday and they got worse. Cut back to 7 miles Wednesday- no better. 12 miles Thursday and on Saturday morning I found myself lined up at Muir Beach for a 50K with over 7000 feet of steep downhill running. Leaving my motel that morning my quads were burning as I walked downstairs. A little soreness the day after the race would be fine, but not at the starting line!

I started out slow, just hoping to be able to finish (before the day was over I would see lots of people walking slowly and painfully down hills, their quads blown out by the previous miles). The fact that my lungs weren't yet clear of residual gunk didn't help either.

Headed out slow, talked with some old friends along the way, took it easy as planned. The quads hurt, but not a lot, and they never got any worse. About eight miles in I found myself running along a ridge, with Hwy 101 and the Golden Gate Bridge and SF skyline below me and to my left, as I chased Santa Claus.

I eventually passed him, wondering how in the world he was going to get all those presents delivered in one night if he couldn't even keep up with me, and found myself finishing the first loop (33K) in 3:51. That would have been good for 23rd place out of the 78 runners who chose the 33K option, but I still had a 17K loop to go. Since I've run this race twice before and my previous best time was 6:08, I realized I had a decent chance for a PR for the course and a sub-six-hour finish. I wished I hadn't spent so much time on the first loop standing arond chatting and such at aid stations, and off I went on loop two.

Despite my handicaps, I finished in 5:56 (same time as at Quad Dipsea three weeks ago), with quads intact (yes, they are quite sore today, but not as bad as I expected) with a new confidence for HURT (it's always a good feeling when you hand Santa his butt on a platter!). Apparently all those extra miles this fall are doing some good. I'll be pushing it hard now for two more weeks before tapering.

I finally uploaded pics from some recent runs. The first is Boulder Creek Falls. If you notice that nice log sticking out over the pool at the base of the falls, I might warn you to be careful if you decide to walk out on it. The second picture is taken as I am falling off its slippery surface.



And this is the view of the Sacramento River from the cool new Hornbeck trail in Redding that I ran a couple weeks ago...

The Dipsea is a famous and popular 7.1 mile race from Mill Valley to Stinson Beach each June. It includes nearly 2500 feet of ascending and descending and is so steep that there are 676 steps built into the trail. The Quad Dipsea, as you might guess, goes there and back and there and back. Having run 20 miles, including a 6 mile race, on Thursday, I wasn't out for a fast time, just to get some good hill training in before my upcoming 100 miler in January. Before the race Dave Combs asked me what my expectations were and I answered, "Have a good time, take some pictures, finish in under six hours." At this race I met all my goals! (You can see the official results here).

I finished in 5:55, putting me safely in the top third of entrants, and had a fun and enjoyable, almost even easy, day. My split times for the four legs of the race were 90-90-89-86. My Quads were sore on Sunday and Monday, but not too bad, indicating that I should be able to handle HURT's 24,000 feet of descent in 8 weeks.

Someone took a video of runners crossing the river: pretty boring unless you know some of these folks, but that's me stopping to take a picture at 7:23 into the video. The picture I took is just below. Yes, at mile 2 I was already seven minutes behind the leader, Eric Skaggs, who finished the race in less than four hours (eight minutes per mile average!)- amazing considering how slow the stairs are- both up and down.

At the Quad Dispsea I saw a girl of about 18-20 years hobbling down the long steep steps toward the beach, crying and wincing everytime she put weight on her right leg. It reminded me of this amazing recent story and video.

... and here I am trotting with the turkeys!

I ran the "six" mile Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving with nearly 700 other folks, including my middle daughter and Mrs Runalong. The babes were just hoping to break 90 minutes but they ran sub 12 minute miles and both finished in 1:08 and change. I was shooting for 45 minutes, having run it in around 43 minutes, several years ago. It's been a long time since I ran a race shorter than a marathon.

It was fun for about a mile and the rest of the way I just wanted it to be over. I was talking to friends when the gun went off and started near the back of the pack, forced to walk and pick my way through several hundred recreational runners for the first (slow) mile; then I picked it up to about a 7:40 pace. At the mile 5 marker I realized I would have to run the last mile under 6 minutes to break 45 so I eased off a little. Imagine my surprise when, as I approached the finish, the clock read 45:03... 45:04...

Turns out the last "mile" was only 0.75 so I could have broken 45, albeit on a short course. I also ran to the course and back home again for a total of 19 or so miles for the day. Ted snapped my pic at the finish:

A new trail just opened northwest of town. I came across it by chance and checked it out (8 mile loop with nice views of the Sac River) and that left me running back to my car via the power line roads around dusk. One of the few local residents saw me and told me to be careful, they've had mountain lion problems in the area. Did I make it out alive? Tune in next week to...

OK, not much suspense, eh? I don't know why, it always works on "24" even though we always know Jack is going to survive.

Anyway, no cougars, but I did see a bear as I neared civilization.

I've done about 500 miles in the last 9 weeks, a lot for me (hard core ultrarunners would laugh). I'm feeling good and looking forward to the six-mile Turkey Trot this Thursday (my first "short" race in years) and the 28.4 mile, 10000 feet of climbing (and 10K descending with a total of over 2500 stairsteps) Quad Dipsea next Saturday.

One of our favorite places in Switzerland was Lugano (near Italy) and one of our favorite hikes was the hike up Mount Bre. We took the funincular part way up and climbed from there. It was a big long loop on a warm day, but worth it! Afterwards we had a meal at the most beautiful cafe in the world (IMHO).

The HURT 100 mile race is in January with 24,000 feet of climbing and just as much descending. Historically only about 25% of those starting the race have finished and only a half-dozen or so in my age group have ever finished. There are roots and rocks and mud and steep hills and drop-offs, and frequently rain, but what trips most people up isn't the roots and rocks but the 36 hour time limit.

My training is going well, October was my third highest mileage month ever (though at 239, not that high by ultra-runner standards) and I got some speedwork and hill training in. I'll be looking to do more miles, more hills and more speedwork in November. The Quad Dipsea should help with the hillwork.

There are four major language groups in Switzerland, the smallest of which is found in the southeast part of the country between Italy and Austria. The language is Romansch and we found this to be an area of lovely towns virtually undiscovered by American tourists. Of course that meant that language was a bit of a problem but most hotel and restaurant folks spoke just a wee bit of English, so we got by.

It was our first, but by no means last, experience of detraining in a town where we had no reservations. I left the girls with our bags and wandered around Zernez checking for an affordable but decent place. The hostels were not up to our standards, but I found a nice, almost deserted, family run hotel for $40 per person per night (breakfast included). Throughout the trip, we never did have a problem finding an affordable place to stay.









Zernez is also just north of the Swiss National Park, the only national park in Switzerland, and the only area preserved in its natural state (most of Switzerland is given over to small farms and ranches or "alps", as they call them. It turns out that in its natural state, Switzerland looks a lot like California or Colorado. We took a bus and got out just south of the park; my faithful companions hiked back partway with me, including a summit, and then caught another bus back to town. I continued over another ridge and hiked back to our hotel thus successfully crossing the SNP from south to north. Woo-hoo!

I got snowed on, rained on, hailed on, blown around and saw an ibex and a herd of chamoix.

Our first hike was an overnighter from Wasserauen (near Alpenzell) to Wildhaus via Megaslip & Falensee. After days of rain and iffy forecasts we were happy to see the hike begin under partly cloudy skies and warm temps. Little did we know. This was our break-in/ shake-down hike but it turned out to be pretty challenging. Mrs R complained, "you didn't break us in, you broke us!" but I ignored her.

The first section took us uphill to Sealspee where we got some fresh milk at a little dairy; then a challenging and gnarly, but beautiful climb up to Megaslip where the weather got a little more ominous. For some strange reason, the girls wanted to stop here, but we pushed on, er, up, to Wilderalp Pass 3000+ feet altitude above our starting point. Then a muddy downhill through a ranch and down to Fallensee. We stayed in a barn loft above dairy cows. Bad news: It stunk of dairy cows. Good news: There were 60 mats in the loft, but we were the only ones there. We had homemade macs and cheese for dinner and bread, cheese, milk and chocolate for breakfast. I slept well until they started bringing the cows in for milking at 5.

The next day started out on the up-and-up, in the fog and through some snow in poor visibility. Miraculously, when we reached the top (Zwingli Pass; another 2000' climb); the sky cleared and the sun came out and we enjoyed beautiful weather and views on the way down, and down, and down.

Back to Switzerland! I've shown you our pics from the 100+ mile Haute Route but our other two weeks were nearly as magnificent. We started out tamely, doing the tourist thing for a couple days before our first hike. The first two pics take you from the sublime (the Protestant Cathedral in SG was absolutely stunning) to the ridiculous (the tiny little stainless steel public potty saved space by having you do everything in one basin- including washing and drying (OK, above the basin, not actually in it). The other three pics are from the beautiful little town of Stein Am Rhein- the monastery, downtown and um, well, I just liked the blue paint on the last building.

Determined to best my time of 9:41 from back when I was a young lad of 40-something, I started out the race at a blistering (for me) 11 minute per mile pace. I managed to maintain that for the first 26 miles up and down the east Bay hills, through the mud (it poured Friday) and was actually passing runners steadily despite starting faster than I prefer.

The next four miles are all uphill and took an hour, then I got back to my 11 minute pace for the remainder of the journey. The last six miles were absolutely miserable as my legs were shot (tingly and crampy and exhausted) and the heat (near 80) was making me woozy and dizzy. Plus I had to run this section at a ten minute pace to finish under 9:30. Despite the fact that three people passed me in the last mile (Bummer! - no one had passed me for the last 30-some miles), I finished in 9:27, utterly spent. If suffering and self-discipline build character, then I'm a real character!

Running through the Redwood and Eucalyptus groves and past the viewpoints of San Francisco added highlights to what was otherwise a tough day at the office. Today I feel like that guy from Petticoat Junction ("and there's Uncle Joe, he's a-movin' kind of slow at the Junction").



After the turnaround I saw Helen Klein, she was in last place (she was at mile 22, I was at 31) with two bloody knees and no chance of making the cut-off at mile 26. Still she had plenty of time to finish those last four miles to the cutoff in less than an hour which would have given her a sub-seven-hour finish for a tough hilly trail marathon. Not bad for an 84-year old!

This is one marathon I would like to run someday since I'm from the Chicago area. It's a fast course so my (tentative) plan is to run it in October '09 and qualify for Boston the following spring. Since I turn 55 in '09 the qualifying standard for Boston will become a little easier for me that year and I expect to be right on the bubble.

I'm glad I didn't run yesterday as it was the hottest CM ever (88 degrees with 80% humidity) and entrants were more likely to end up in the hospital (hundreds did, one died) than get a PR. But if you don't think marathons are exciting, check out these finishes from yesterday's men's and women's races for first place:

Our trip to Spain was brief, just a few days, but we got to stay with our good friends the Munros, missionaries to the immigrant community around Madrid. They live in a suburb and the train station near their home is where the terrorists boarded the train a few years ago and planted that bomb that killed so many people just before the last Spanish election. I preached in the church there on Sunday July 1 and we got to tour Segovia, Alcala and Madrid, along with a few other stops along the way. While there Mrs Runalong got an incredibly painful migraine one evening; SCARY painful; but fortunately there have not been any reoccurences.

Mrs R shops for a new suit:


The Mod Squad visits a castle...


The Roman Aqueduct in Segovia was more than Adequate!




The Mod Squad in Madrid...


They just don't build churches like they used to!


More pics in part two below.

Most of the tall buildings in the Madrid area have storks nesting on top:


Alcala is the birthplace of Don Quixote's creator. Mrs R just couldn't seem to get into the spirit of posing...


The church took about 20 minutes of the service to profusely thank and praise the Munros for their service this past term...

... is next Saturday. I'm in decent, though not top, shape and will be shooting for a time around 9:30. I ran the DC four years ago and finished in 9:41 so it would be nice to find that I'm just getting better with age! OTOH, I won't plan to go quite all out as the DC is more of a training run, my last chance at a 50 mile race before the HURT 100 mile race in January.

The DC 50 is named after one ultrarunning legend and directed by another, Ann Trason, probably the greatest female ultrarunner of all time. With over 15,000' of elevation change (half up and half down) it is moderately hilly by western trail race standards.

In Zermatt I found the perfect souvenier t-shirts, with our mantra! Next installment I'll take you to Spain.

Yesterday three of us took a little jaunt through one of the most popular sections of the Trinity Alps, Canyon Creek. Our 20 mile journey took us up past waterfalls to Canyon lakes and L Lake with a side trip to Boulder Lake. About half running and half hiking we had a great time on a beautiful fall day. Sadly I forgot my camera, but this was my favorite view (courtesy of Google Images):

The last day of our trek was one of the very best. I wrote it up a couple weeks ago and my computer ate it and it sufficiently discouraged me that I'm just now finally getting around to re-doing it. At any rate we enjoyed a relatively flat stretch toward Zermatt with splendid views of the Matterhorn; manifold wildflowers and few more "trisky" sections. Above Zermatt my now-buff companions decided to take the underground funicular down to town while I enjoyed a run down the heavily travelled trail (many tourists take the ride up and walk down) through a couple cute villages, past a waterfall and, of course, past hordes of Japanese tourists who looked at this gray-bearded American flinging himself wildly down the hill with looks of amazement. Perhaps they wondered if something was chasing me.

In Zermatt we met up with our Swiss friends who we had shared several dinners with. Sybille has since written to us, inviting us to visit her and her family in their hometown. Maybe someday. We had a celebratory meal, bought a couple souveneirs, and eventually hopped the train back to Germany and thence to home. It was time to leave and go home- we all could feel it. We didn't want it to end. But we were ready. We didn't know what we felt, but it didn't really matter. We were going home. But when I look at these pictures...

I'm heading up to Oregon with Steve, Ted, Mark, Lorelei and Ronny to run in the McKenzie River 50K. It's a relatively flat and fast course for a trail 50K, but I'm not relatively fast right now. I should do OK but my hopes of using this to set a new personal record for the distance have been tempered by my lack of running while in Europe.

I wrote a scintillating report about our last day of the Haute Route, but my computer ate it. I'll redo it Monday; it was one of the best days of the whole trip. After that I'll do a little British show and tell for you. Have a great weekend!

Sit down with a cup of tea (hot or cold, depending on where you live) and read Marcia's amazing account of her solo run through the Sierras.
Excerpt:

Tyger, tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night.

The poetry of William Blake strolls across my consciousness as I pass through mile after mile of pitch-black forest. There are no tigers here, and the only thing burning bright is the light of my headlamp. I am comfortable alone in the forest at night. There is very little to be afraid of in these mountains. But, yes, things do occasionally happen to people who wander far off into the mountains at night, and those thoughts do not escape me entirely. I remember John's last words to me, as he kissed me goodbye early that morning. "Have fun. Don't get eaten."

Thursday was another rest day for the ladies. I hiked up to the little village of Gasenreid, a short but steep 1500' climb and found a great hotel (the only one in town) with a nice big room with a balcony overlooking the valley (see pics) for $40 per person (super cheap by Swiss standards). Then I made the easy flat two mile walk over to Grachen, a cute touristy ski town, where I met a couple of cute chicks who had taken the bus up from St Nick. We wandered around the shops, stocked up on food for the last two days of our trek, ate lunch at "Mike's Place" and walked back to Gasenreid together.

Pics 1 & 2: Grachen; Pics 3-7:Pics taken of our from our hotel in Gasenreid.

Later that day, Mrs. Runalong and the Bex read together while I wandered around town. Friday morning we continued soouth on the Europaweg, a 20 mile trail from Grachen to Zermatt. After a tough 1500' climb we would spend the next two days traversing high above the valley below. Because the hillside is very steep the trail is very challenging in places with lots of boulders and scree and abrupt drop-offs and a fair amount of up and downness. But the views were consistently magnificent, as you can see.

Praise the Lord, after weeks of iffy weather when even the best days were hazy, our last few days on the trail were postcard perfect! We did have one scare when Bex slipped and fell while crossing a steep and dangerous cascading stream but the only damage was to Dad's nervous system. Europa Hut was crowded and offered no privacy at the end of an exhausting day, but it's the only game in town. Tomorrow will be our last day... and one of our very best!

Climbing out of Gasenreid:


Snack time; looking north...


Becky's feet; Gasenreid & Grachen...


Decisions, decisions...


Can you see them?


Cross the danger area quickly!




A long ways down...


Almost there...


For the first ten days of the Haute Route, click here and scroll down.

To be honest I can't remember much about this section. My notes say that it was only an "OK" day, as there were low clouds most of the day blocking any views. Fortunately the remaining days of the trip were Grrrreat!

Pic 1: Typical Zinal home. Pic 2: A typical scene from an "OK" day.

I bought Mrs R a knee brace at the pharmacy and that seemed to help her a lot today. At breakfast there were, as usual, several kinds of cheese set out. My lovely wife reached out with her hand and grabbed the slice that looked best to her... oops, that's not cheese, that's butter... "yuck!" Two members of our family got a big laugh out of that.

We all hopped on the bus Monday morning; I got off at Les Hauderes, where I had left off yesterday; Mrs Runalong and Bex stayed on to La Sage, a few miles up the road. It was a fairly easy hike until I met them at La Sage, then it got steep. The views behind us were wonderful (see pics). It was a steep climb of about 4000' to the Col de Torrent where we were greeted by more panoramas and a steep hike down to Lac Moiry with tons of wildflowers.

The cabin at the Lac Moiry dam was expensive so my two companions hopped another bus to Zinal while I went up and over another high Col to a big ski area on the other side. The sky was threatening but apart from a touch of rain mixed with snow flakes it turned out OK. Not having a pack I was able to run wildly down the long, steep, technical trail to Zinal, going as fast as I could without risking a disastrous fall. Thus we again completed two stages in one day.

On the bus from Les Hauderes to La Sage, an old (80-ish) couple got on, barely able to climb up onto the bus and totter gingerly back to their seats. They had backpacks and hiking poles and got off at a trailhead for a hike.

1) La Sage, (2) Hiking out of Val d'Herens, (3) Lac Moiry, (4) Zinal

I promised Mrs R and Bex a rest day so they took the bus from Arolla to Evolene and I hiked to Les Hauderes where I took a bus to Evolene, which was not on the route but was a pretty town with affordable accomodations.

Sunday morning July 22nd in Arolla: there was no suitable church in the small village but we were nevertheless treated to contemporary Christian music (in French) over the hotel speakers while we ate breakfast. They had the best yogurt we ever tasted and you could add homemade apricot or raspberry puree! A few hours later I stopped at a small dairy farm where a very nice lady who spoke only French served me the best glass of milk I've ever had.

It was basically a rest day for me too as I hiked/ran to Les Hauderes (about 2/3 of the way to Evolene); a cute little town that was having a big street fair (I enjoyed some fresh Belgian waffles) and then caught the bus to Evolene where we found a very nice hotel (and Becky got her own room) with real wood panelling. Obviously it used to be THE PLACE in Evolene and was showing its age a little but we really enjoyed it. Evolene is a very pretty town and we all enjoyed our rest day.

The dairy area (2); and Evolene:

What a day!!!

It began by climbing up a small col. From there we saw beautiful Lac des Dix (Lake Dix), though it was initialy covered by some beautiful clouds; from the col we could see the next four hours of our route; had a close encounter with chamois (see pics); followed by a long hard climb, then a brief descent to Cabane des Dix; across a glacier and up a steep pile of boulders to a narrow trail with big drop-offs.

From there we climbed a 70' ladder to the top of the cliff (a bit tricky with a backpack and a bum shoulder as well as being psychologically intimidating); then the long, long descent to Arolla (sensory overload with the extravagant profusion of wildflowers and the sound of glacial ice cracking loudly). There we found our best lodging yet at a great price (they were even playing contemporary worship music over the sound system in the restaurant- in French!).

Again there were times this fine Saturday in July when I wondered, "What have I got us into?" Mrs R had a tough day (hangover from yesterday's tough hike) but she pushed herself really hard and made it. But the story is best told in pictures...













(Too many picks for one entry - continued below)

The only way across this icy river was to flop up on this rock and over:

Friday July 20th was a very "trisky" but fascinating high country hike. We saw two ibex and three chamois; hiked across scree and boulders and snow and a tricky river crossing (due to getting off course). The snow crossings were steep with unpleasant consequences should one fall but the snow was soft and we made it safely. At times though, I did wonder, "what have I gotten us into?". We hiked past the Grand Combin and had many great vistas on a day with lots of warm sun and a fair share of cold rain with thunder. The weather changes dramatically and rapidly in the Alps.

But everyone was in a good mood. Then, near the bottom of the last descent, I caught my foot on something and fell. Trying not to fall forward down a semi-steep muddy and rocky path with my big backpack I rolled left and managed to fall with no damage except...

Somehow, while falling, I tore something in my shoulder. Immediate and searing pain. I could barely move my left arm and that only with great pain. Fortunately we were only hiking and not mountain climbing so I could get by without one arm!

As soon as we got to the hut a huge storm hit and lasted most of the evening. Cabane de Prafleuri was unimpressive in itself but for one thing: dinner was all you can eat! After eight hours of hard hiking, that's no insignificant blessing.

The second day of the Haute Route is moderate by HR standards; 7.5 miles and 3000' each of ascent and descent. Mrs R opted to avoid most of the ascent by taking the tram up to Col de Balme (7000' altitude); Becky hiked up the first half with me and then took the $1 tram up the second half. I met them at the cafe on the top where we enjoyed marvelous views (and tiny little coca-colas for $2 each) before descending from France into Switzerland and the town of Trient. It was the first day in which my lovely companions learned that going downhill is much harder on the body than going uphill!

This was our first night (of many) on the route in which we had no reservations, but not to worry. There were plenty of room at the inn (the ONLY inn in Trient). Here's a pic from the top, looking back; and the beginning of the long descent toward Trient.

Rather than start at the beginning of our amazing summer adventures, I'll begin with the end. The last two weeks were spent hiking the Haute Route from Chamonix, France (at the foot of Mt Blanc) to Zermatt, Switzerland (at the foot of the Matterhorn). The route, which began as a cross-country ski touring route has been adapted for summer hiking. It goes from the most massive mountain in Europe to the most recognizable. The guide book (by Kev Reynolds) recommends doing the route over 14 days; I set our trek up as a 13 day adventure. Because we would be staying in huts or villages each night, we didn't need to carry any camping gear. Also, if the going got too rough for Mrs Runalong, she could skip a day here or there and take a bus to the next village. There were also some trams and gondolas along the way if she wanted to skip a big climb or descent (she did!). I carried her clothes and stuff along with my own and she carried our lunches and such. Becky carried her own stuff.

From the guidebook: "Mont Blanc to the Matterhorn- recipe for a visual feast! To walk from one to another is to sample that feast in full measure; a gourmet extravaganza of scenic wonders... In two weeks of mountain travel you will be witness to the greatest collection of 4000 meter (13,000 feet) peaks in all the Alps and visit some of the most spectacular valleys. There you'll find delightful villages and remote alp hamlets, wander flower meadows and deep fragrant forests... cross icy streams and glaciers... The route is over 180 meters (112 miles) long. It crosses eleven passes and gains more than 12,000 meters (40,000 feet) in height."

Our first day was easy; after a long train ride from Locarno; we arrived in Chamonix in late afternoon, grabbed a few burgers at McDonald's* and headed toward Argentiere only six miles away in the valley.


Mont Blanc

*A beautiful building, inside and out, with espresso and beer on the menu and free wifi!

Just a few of the pics I took Saturday:

I'm not running Western States this year as I'll be in Jolly Ol' during the race (June 23-24) but I found a nice video promo on YouTube:


But I do hope to run the HURT 100 next January in Hawaii. A few years ago Monica Scholz ran 23 or so 100 mile races in one year. I ran with her for awhile at Western States a couple years ago and she told me that HURT is her favorite. And, you guessed it, I found HURT on YouTube also (Paul Sibley's inspirational tale):

About time: After living here for a quarter century I finally climbed Mt. Shasta yesterday. Bob, who's been up it several times, took Stu and I on the 7000+ foot vertical climb to the summit at 14,262. We got up at 2AM after being awakened by other groups beginning as early as midnight. You need to start early as it takes most people 8-12 hours to summit from Horse Camp (where we camped) and it's best to start heading down by noon as the snow starts to get real slushy and the chance of thunderstorms increases in the afternoon.

Our route, via Avalanche Gulch, is visible in both these pics. The arrowhead-like rocky section in the middle is called "the Heart". We went up the snowchute to the right of the heart, through a gap in Red Banks (above the heart) and then left up Misery Hill to the summit.



Due to a dry winter there wasn't much snow this year. The plastic boots I rented weighed about 400 pounds each (conservatively) and were as uncomfortable as they look. We left camp at 2:45 and summitted just after 10:00. The altitude was hard on me and I was really struggling to breathe. I got a nasty altitude headache that didn't quit until we got back to Redding. Bob hardly seemed to break a sweat. We met another ultrarunner at the top, Kevin Sawchuk- he and his group had come up from Bunny Flats, where we were parked, in 5:05. But then Kevin IS fast, and he wasn't wearing big plastic and lead boots.

The route is very steep and crampons are essential and there are some great, long glissades coming back down. Above Red Banks, many hikers leave their packs behind for the final ascent. I kept my pack on and Stu asked if I had brought my waist pack. At least, that's what I thought he said. He was really asking if I had brought one of the "waste packs" issued to us by the USFS when we got our summit permits (for making doo-doo on the mountain). He was having some stomach issues. Thinking he wanted to borrow a small WAIST pack for the summit ascent, I said, "no," then Bob said "yes, you do," and pulled the WASTE pack out of my mesh pocket. I hate to think of what would have happened to my WAIST pack if I had brought it and offered it to Stu!

The rest of the story is best told in pictures, the reason these pics are so good is because I didn't take them (thanks, Bob!).

I've always wanted to do this race but it's a long way away and conflicts with a lot of other races I like to do but I finally "just did it" this year. I had to finish the sermon and a bunch of other stuff first so it was 12:17 Friday afternoon before I left for an almost six hour drive and 10:20 Saturday evening when I returned from a nearly six hour return trip. In between the race itself took me just short of six hours (5:53).

On the way up I passed Callahan's Restaurant near Ashland. It was at Callahan's a few years ago that I, as a newbie ultrarunner, met Scott McQueeney, with lots of UR experience, including Badwater, though he was a few years younger than I. We talked quite a bit over dinner one night just before the Siskiyou Outback 50K. A few years ago I was going to run McD but it ended up on the same day as my daughter's graduation from college. Decisions, decisions.... (just kidding!). Scott ran McD that year and finished right about the time I would have finished, then collapsed and died of a massive heart attack. Running makes your heart stronger, but if you have bad genes...

In Corvallis I ran into the same (mostly) bunch of Ashland runners I ran into six years ago in Auburn, CA just before my first ultra, the Way to Cool 50K. Now, as then, they invited me to join them for dinner.

As is the case with most of my races, McD has virtually no flat sections, only ups and downs. The RD's had asked me if I would make a film of the race as I had of the Miwok race a couple years ago but I said not this time, I wanted to see the course first- maybe next year. Lots of people at the race knew me because of the Miwok video (and/or because of other races or the internet or maybe even direct revelation from God- running up the trail a guy I'd never met, upon hearing I was from Redding, asked if I was Mark Swanson- he never did say how he surmised that).

Also in the race was John Stumbo, pastor of the Alliance church in Salem, one of the largest in our denomination. Since I have a long streak of coming in first place in the Pastor's division (which exists primarily in my head), this could be a problem. He ran the race last year and finished in 6:06. I was hoping for a 5:35 finish, so I thought I'd be OK.

I talked to John before and after the race. I'd met him once when he spoke at a pastor's conference, but I couldn't remember what he had spoken about or if we had talked at all. I was quite surprised when he told me I was the reason he was here, his "inspiration" and recounted, seemingly verbatim, a conversation we had had in which he had asked me about running, I had told him how I started out just running to the end of the driveway, etc, etc. We continued to talk a little at the beginning of the race but I'm a slow starter and he looked like I was holding him back so I let him take off (he did), figuring I would catch him later when my superior sense of pacing would enable me to pass the too-fast starters.

The course was fine: Typical Oregon forest and ferns and a couple spectacular viewpoints. One of the aid stations was populated (infested?) with hippies: Hippies with really, really bad hair. BTW, did you know that when Oregon runners blow the snot out of their noses it lands on the ground and interacts with the decaying vegetation and turns into banana slugs? Some second generation Oregonians have actually evolved to the point where they just blow fully-developed slugs out of their noses!

Anyway, the early going was marred by the insistence of some runners to continually shout "Aflac!" at each other. Maybe something to do with the U of O Ducks? I'm not sure if the shouters were for or against the Quackers. I have to admit that through hours of practice they had virtually perfected their spot-on imitations of the obnoxious TV duck.

Back at the ranch I was having some trouble. I just couldn't generate much energy going up hill. I had trouble running the easy grades and when I walked I couldn't walk as fast as normal. My mind would tell my body to speed up and my body would reply, "try and make me!" My mind would reply, "we've been here before body, I have ways to make you accelerate," and my body would reply, "neener-neener" and refuse to speed up. Just one of those days.

On the downhills, however, I was, as usual, SMOKIN'! Younger runners would hear me bearing down on them from behind and would step aside and cower in fear as I sped by, followed by a sonic boom. I was just flying down steep grades, gliding over roots and rocks, the personification of power and grace. This is important so listen up, kids (well, it's not important to you, but it is to me, so listen up anyway).

You see, if there is one thing I've noticed about old people, it is that they don't like going downhill or down anything. They move slowly and gingerly and cautiously. I, on the other hand, was flying downhill recklessly and fearlessly. The lesson is obvious: Old people don't do that. I do do that. Therefore, I am not old. I told you it was important.

But all in all it was a tough race what with all those uppity sections of trail. I finished in 5:53, about 30 seconds a mile slower than I'd planned. Rev. Stumbo, on the other foot, finished in 5:10. I was still the fastest out-of-state pastor.

Anyway, it doesn't matter who won or lost (the actual winner set a course record at just under 4 hours) or how fast I went. All that matters is that I'm not old.

The length of the road to the South Fork summit: 7 miles.
The elevation gain: 2000'.
The date: May 7, 2007.
The temperature on the digital sign as I drove to the trailhead: 102º (I don't think it was really that hot).
The first: First time I ran up to the top with no walking breaks.
The time: 73 minutes to the top, breaking my old record by four minutes.
How much did the last two miles cost? Don't even ask.
How close did I come to breaking into a walk the last half mile? Don't even think about it.
The views at the top: Almost worth it*.
The seven mile gravity-assisted descent: Almost worth it.
The feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment at the top: Priceless.

*Would have been worth it if I hadn't been up there so many times before.

That's how Bex spent her spring break last month. Hard to believe that we'll heading to Europe to see her NEXT month (that's the one after this one). Anyway, here are her pics from Sicily.

But what's with the Frog Crossing?!

Well, the big day came. I trained as well as I could, pushing the red-line without crossing it (the endless quest to train as hard as possible without breaking) and went out to see if I could beat my old 50 mile personal best of 9:03 (set four years ago) with a sub-9 finish. I was confident enough to begin to wonder not just IF I could break 9:00, but BY HOW MUCH?

Despite the predictions of occasional showers totalling all of 0.10 inches for the day Saturday morning arrived wet and it kept raining pretty much all day long. By early afternoon the horse trails that make up the last 20 miles of the course were getting pretty sloppy and slick. The temp never got above 55 so it was a tough day for crews and volunteers - the real heroes of the day. For runners it wasn't too bad. Not perfect, but cool is always better than warm when you are running.

I followed my plan of running 7/8 of a mile at about 8:20 pace followed by 1/8 mile of walking: lather, rinse and repeat 30 times until you reach the horse trails and things get more vertical and technical. I covered the first 30 miles this way by 10:38 AM - right on schedule. I worried if this faster than normal pace would burn me out (I was red-lining it again) but, though it was tough I was able to keep up the same level of intensity almost to the end. My pace got slower, as did everyone's on the steep and rocky and muddy trails, but I kept pushing- walking any significant uphill sections and running everything else. Some of the downhills were so technical that they weren't any faster than the uphills.

I realized for the first time (my fifth trip to American River) how many long sections of flat runnable trail there were mixed in with the steep technical stuff. Usually I haven't been fond of flat portions late in a race. Uphills I could walk, downhills I could run but propelling myself over the flat sections of miles 30-50 has always been tough. Yesterday, thanks to my training, I looked forward to these flat sections (some quite long) as opportunities to make up time.

I stayed on schedule and began aiming for a finish around 8:30, which I figured at this point was the best I could do if I really pushed. My calves began to tighten up because I was running faster than usual, thus pushing harder off on each step than usual and my body wasn't used to it. I was passing people consistently the entire race.

By the time I got to the last big hill (1000' climb in 4 miles) I was pretty much spent. Two guys passed me as I tried to move up the early steep portion; only the second and third person to pass me in the final 40 miles of the race. I realized 8:30 was just out of reach and pushed to make at least 8:38- which would be exactly one hour faster than last year. I got to the finish line in 8:35, beating my old PB by 28 minutes (more than 0:30 seconds per mile) and last year by an hour. I finished 92nd out of 500 starters; 9th out of 96 finishers in the men's 50-59 division. (Results here).

(Update: Whoops, the joke's on me, I guess. I just looked up last year's results and my memory deceived me. Last year's time was 9:33).

And when I got to the finish, I was finished. I had nothing left.

My three friends from church all finished as well, despite battling some huge impediments (injuries, sickness, lack of time to train, etc). My daughter, who began running last August and has barely been able to finish 50 kilometer races within the allotted times was concerned that she wouldn't be able to make the cut-offs at AR. I knew she could do the distance, but...

She made the first cut-off (mile 31.5) with 6 minutes to spare and finished with 12 minutes to spare. HOORAY!

I plan to let this time of 8:35 stand. Training that hard and running that hard were satisfying, but took a lot out of me. I'd rather have longevity in my running career than worry about moving up from the top 20% to the top 10% of my age group. Besides, if I can keep at this long enough, it will keep getting easier and easier to be at the top of my age group; maybe even take first place (there was only one 70+ finisher in each of the men's and women's divisions this year)!

Thanks to all for prayers and encouragements. Now back to more important matters.

I apologize for the lack of blogging, I spent about 5 hours Friday and Monday evening trying to troubleshoot and fix Runalong but, as you can see, to no avail. I even downloaded and tried the iBlog beta update version 2.0 and it had the same problem. I've played with rebuilding my blog and with iDisk and everything I could think of and am pretty much out of ideas. And the "support" at iBlog doesn't answer my emails. I don't think iWeb is going to work for me and I'm not crazy about switching to Blogger but I'm running out of ideas and patience.

Anyway, today is the first non-Sunday in 5 weeks that I haven't gone for a run. My legs appreciate it. Last week I finished most of my runs with one mile at about 7:15 (hard enough to be hard, but not too hard). Yesterday I finished my short 7 mile run with two one-mile runs of 7:15 and 6:54. They're getting easier. I'll only run about 30 miles this week but I'll do about eight of these fast one-milers to keep my aerobic conditioning up. In the American River 50 Mile Race (4/14) I plan to do the first 29 miles (paved and mostly flat) at about a 9 minute mile pace. Studies have shown that in long races a 5 to 1 running to walking ratio is best for most runners so I'll be running 7/8 of a mile at about an 8:20 minute per mile pace, followed by 1/8 mile walking at about a 12:30 pace (90 seconds) to get my 9:00 average (6.67 miles per hour).

The last 21 miles of the course are hilly (over 3000 feet of climbing and equal descent), technical and possibly muddy so I'll be shooting for an 11-12 minute pace there to meet my goal of a sub-nine hour finish. My previous four finishes have all been under 10 hours with the fastest several years ago at 9:03. I'm a little older now (so they tell me) but I'm better trained this year so if it isn't too hot on race day I think my odds of meeting my goal are pretty good. We have five of us going from our congregation (counting my daughter) which just may be the most people from one congregation ever to run in any one ultramarathon!