Tag Archives: ultra marathon

“Snow-Rut?!”

Despite my last posts, I had no clue just how short this season was about to feel. Abigail and I drove east to Big Sky on Thursday of Labor Day weekend under thick clouds- to run The Rut race. The weather was unseasonably brisk, even for Montana. While our recent adventures may allude otherwise, neither of our bodies have been in perfect running order. Her IT band, and my hamstring have been out of sorts for months. A week before the race I sprouted a nagging sinus infection that carried up to race day.

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We arrived Friday evening so Abigail could run the 28km race on Saturday, and I could rest one more day before the 50km race on Sunday. The big sky in Big Sky was pretty full of clouds, but we stayed optimistic. Abigail “just wanted to finish”, so she started at the back of the first wave, and promptly proceeded to pick off competitors one by one.

 

I hiked up to cheer on racers around mile 7 and saw the front runners come through- but when Abigail passed, I realized she was still probably in the top 20 women. Go Abigail!

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The skies cleared off, and Abigail got the full Rut vertical experience, holding her place and picking her way along the exposed ridges that makes the rut The Rut. The final results list her as the 17th overall woman- no joke for her first real mountain race, and being behind 7 or 8 pro runners from Europe and some wicked strong locals from higher elevations.

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My race was less flattering. Last year, I went out too fast and burned out early. It was not pretty. I wasn’t any fitter this year, and between sickness and injury I felt unsure of myself right up to race day- but I was determined to run a smarter race and do the best I could.

The weather system that was supposed to hit the 28km race waited for me, and I left the condo in 40 degree spitting rain. Hydration would not be a problem. They closed the upper mountain due to risks from both lightning and snow, so my 50km with 10,000ft of vertical became a 42km with 7,000ft of vertical. Much faster, lower elevation, and frankly, easier. I picked my layers carefully, and started with the 2nd wave of runners to keep away from the peer pressure to go fast. Abigail found ways to cheer me on early in the race, and I felt solid well past where things started to fall apart last year.

Mercifully, it didn’t start raining hard until 2 hours into the course. At 3 hours and at 9700ft above sea level, there was an inch of snow on the course. Moving was necessary for warmth, but careful pacing and diligent nutrition kept me in good shape. I felt a little weary on the long downhill between miles 16 and 20, but worked my plan, gave up some speed and stayed strong.

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I finished 30 places faster than last year, and in the top 25% of finishers. Plus, I wasn’t a puddly wreck of exhausted muscle fibers which makes me think my plan to run smarter worked well. We even managed to sneak away from the race and celebrate my friends Maggie and Chad getting married in Bozeman that night- cheers to them tying the knot!

Suffice to say- I’m still eager to run the full course next year, hopefully in better health, and with a better plan. Hopefully the course won’t look like this (from our drive home on Monday):

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Endurance

“This feels good man, just real good.” I bounced past a mountain biker, and a few minutes later, past the spot where I had bonked on the trail last September. Nick and I were out for a run and the stoke was high. That morning he had suggested “let’s just get out and turn over the legs for 3 hours,” but earlier in our planning Nick had mentioned my favorite words – “I want to get out and suffer.”

Making good time.

Martin- making good time.

I was in 7th grade when I discovered I loved endurance sports. I ran every single day that year. I ran in hiking boots in the Chicago winter, and lived for summer runs along Lake Michigan. I loved that it made me lean and quick. Even then I knew, I wanted to move fast and light in the mountains.

Early morning light, starts all good adventures.

Early morning light, starts all good adventures.

After last weekend, I’m just not worried about my foot holding me back much any more. I started my 4th of July at 430am, rolling out of bed, throwing a carefully packed bag in the car, and meeting Martin by 5. I’ve wanted to get high in the Missions since I first saw them, and Martin had been itching to get on top of McDonald Peak. I left the car in running shoes with simple bivy gear, boots, and ice axe on my back.

Fast and light.

Fast and light.

First sight of the objective.

First sight of the objective.

We made good time on trail, and kept moving across excellent snow conditions- supportable, but not icy. The last few slopes were a slog but the final summit ridge took a little rock climbing savvy to tick the peak in 7hrs 20 from the car. We had dropped the bivy gear at the last basin, descended back to it and looked forward to a comfortable night in the range.

Mission vista.

Mission vista.

Summit. Windy.

Summit. Windy.

While stoked on the event, the summit, and the experience, I got back to Missoula knowing I had a little more in me. Nick texted, and Sunday morning we headed up to the Rattlesnake to try beating the heat that was sinking into the valley.

Descending into heat.

Descending into heat.

We didn’t really intend to summit Sheep Mountain, it just kinda happened, and it only took 2 hours of running. The only problem was I really wasn’t prepared for the return. A 4 hour run requires some planning, particularly around hydration and nutrition. I had packed 260 calories, and one hand bottle of water- barely enough for the 3 hour run Nick and I had originally planned, but not nearly enough for the 4 hour endeavor it became. I bonked the first time at 2hr 30, but was able to get up, get moving, and fire off quite a few more miles.

About 1 1/2 miles from the trailhead the bonk hit hard. The heat takes it out of you. Nick put my arm over his shoulder and we walked together, one step at a time towards the water in the car. We crested the last hill and I let go, coasting down to the car under my own power, but humbled by the harshness of finding my endurance limit. Nick, of course, was still going strong. Together we covered 22 miles and 3,500 feet of vertical gain (and 3,500ft of loss). It was the longest duration I’ve ever run (Chicago Marathon only took 3hrs 13min, but it was flat). I laughed at myself after a soak in the creek and a burrito.

After the hardest bonk ever, in any sport.

After the hardest bonk ever, in any sport.

Its been a long time since I tried something hard and really failed, but I think in finding a limit, there was a certain success. Nick is an ultra-marathoner that I deeply respect. Sharing my limit with him was a privilege, and I hope to return the favor some day. “Ultra” is a state of mind, and I think I’m just starting to understand what that looks like. To both Martin and Nick (and Madison, the dog) thanks for reminding me of some of the things I loved the longest. Life is a long game, it’s fun to practice playing.

Long effort requires long rest.

Long effort requires long rest.