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June 25: Tim Kelley and I went peakbagging in the Lynx Creek area of the Kenai Mountains. Center Creek gave us a good excuse to do some packrafting as well. Also be sure to look at Tim’s photos and comments.
Archive for the ‘Run’ Category
Lynx Creek
Sunday, June 25th, 200610 Hours Of Fun In The Kenai Mountains
Sunday, August 14th, 2005|
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On August 14, Tim Kelley, Trond Jensen, Toby Schwoerer, and I went on a 10 hour peak-bagging quest in the Kenai Mountains. Tim also has his photos from this trip on the web, click here to see his shots.
Klondike Road Relay
Saturday, September 11th, 2004|
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On Sept 10-11, I travelled to Skagway, Alaska to run the famous Klondike Road Relay.
Trip To Colorado
Tuesday, September 7th, 2004On Labor Day Weekend, we went to Colorado for a last blast of summer heat, but we also had some unexpected winter weather as well.
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First, we headed to the Grand Junction/Fruita area for some hiking, mountain biking, and warm weather.
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Then it was on to Aspen.
Whittier Ridge Run
Sunday, August 22nd, 2004|
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On August 22, Scott, Brian and I finally tackled the Whittier Ridge Run that I have had my eye on for over a year.
Hammer Adventure Race
Saturday, July 10th, 2004|
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Hammer Adventure Race held on July 10, 2004
Long Lake Run
Sunday, June 27th, 2004|
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Scott & I ran an 18 mile loop around Wolverine Peak, past Long Lake and Williwaw Lakes.
Lost Lake Run
Wednesday, August 20th, 2003Saturday August 20
I have done a number of fun mountain running races this summer and I had been told that the last one on the schedule was one of the best. The Lost Lake Run. The Lost Lake trail is about a 16 mile one-way trail near Seward, Alaska. Linda and I hiked the trail in July. As I said then, it is one of the most beautiful runs in Alaska. The trail climbs for the first half of the race up to Lost Lake. The elevation gain is only a couple thousand feet so it is gradual enough to run the whole thing.
Photos from this race in the gallery.
I realized at the start that most of the top trail runners were not there. Must be saving up for the World Mountain Running Championships in Girdwood, Alaska in a couple of weeks. I started well and was running near the front for the first mile or two. Then the top two runners took it up a notch and I never saw them again. I was feeling good, so I passed the rest of our group and tried to lay my claim to third place early in the race. I dropped them all, but the climb was longer and harder than I anticipated. I began to tire as I reached Lost Lake, which was one or two miles from the top of the hill. The first woman began to close in on me. About 500 meters from the top she caught me. At this point, pride took over and I refused to let her go. I crested the top of the hill with her. From here it was all downhill to the finish, 8 more miles, and the legs on her 5′ 3″ frame were no match for my 6’1″ gait and I was able to break away quickly. Whew, I could relax – I wasn’t going to get ‘girled’ today. But I couldn’t relax too much because I knew I was not a great downhill runner on uneven terrain and others would start closing in. Sure enough, with about four miles to go, a guy came flying by. I was starting to resign myself to 4th place, but then I realized that he was not getting away from me as quickly as he had caught up. I was hanging tough. For the next three miles I kept him in sight. With a mile to go, the trail emptied onto a road. Once again, I was able to put my long legs to use. I was feeling strong and I picked up my pace and quickly closed the gap. At this point there was only one problem – I didn’t know where the finish line was. There I was preparing for a sprint finish, but without any idea when it would start. The road was winding and I couldn’t see more than 50 meters ahead. I stayed shoulder to shoulder with him and waited for any clue: a quickening of his pace, the sound of spectators, the sound of the main highway nearby, anything. At one point we deviated from the road and dropped down a trail towards a firehouse. I knew the post-race party was at the firehouse, so I gambled and dropped the hammer. I got a good jump on him and immediately began to worry that I had misjudged. But just then, I rounded a corner and the spectators and finish line came into view. I finished third.
I was feeling pretty good about my third place when my friend Scott McArt, who had raced last year, but not this year, asked me my time. When I told him, he replied, “Nice job, that might have gotten you a top ten finish last year.” Ouch. Like I said, the fast guys weren’t there.
Powerline Pass Trail Run
Saturday, July 26th, 2003
Saturday July 26 – Powerline Pass Trail Run
I was pretty beat up after Crow Pass, more than I expected to be. Sure, I knew it would be a very hard three to four hour run, but I figured that after a few easy days I would be back on the trails. I had run the last half of Crow Pass with a slight cramp in my right calf. At least I thought it was a cramp. When it hurt enough that I still couldn’t run on Wednesday of this week, I finally figured out it was a muscle strain. I gave it a couple more easy days, hoping I would be well enough to race the Powerline Pass Race.
Powerline Pass is a new race that starts at sea-level, climbs steeply up to 3500 foot Powerline Pass in five miles, then descends for about 1000 before leveling out for the last half of the 11 mile race. It was similar to many of the other great Alaskan trail running races that I was starting to become familiar with. I really wanted to do this one, because it was the first year of the race, and I thought it had potential to become one of the most popular races. Since there are races I can’t get into because I am new to the area (Mount Marathon) it would be nice to get in on one from the beginning. Kind of like seeing a band in a club before they get big.
On Friday my calf was still hurting but I really wanted to race. I decided I would jog over to race registration (about three miles from my house). If I could make it there, I would sign up. The run over was fairly painless, except for the one uphill, which really hurt. Hmm, not a good sign for a race that climbs 3500 feet. But, refusing to accept not even trying I signed up,a nd figured I would make a final decision during my pre-race warm-up.
Also affecting my race decision was the fact that my girlfriend (okay, actually she’s my fiancee but I dislike that word – seems kind of snooty) was signed up and ready for her biggest running event ever. I was extremely excited that, after watching Crow Pass last weekend, she immediately decided she wanted to give Powerline Pass a try.
Linda is in good shape and is a willing partner in most outdoor adventures, but she would never consider herself a runner. Runners are those people who wear the short shorts and singlets. Anyway, as much as I wanted to race, I thought maybe the pain in my leg was trying to tell me that this was Linda’s day. I should just be her support team, as she has done many, many times for me.
I drove her to the start this morning, thinking I would be fine with sitting this one out. Of course, I was dressed to run, with my number on just in case. Linda and I went for a short warm-up run. My leg felt better than yesterday, but was still tight. As the start neared, my competitive juices started flowing and I knew that despite my best intentions, my competitive instincts were going to get the best of me. I was going to race. I rationalized it by saying that if it hurt, I would back off and run with Linda.
From the start I felt a bit tired, but the leg was fine. Amazing, the pain and tightness was gone for the whole race. I was a little frustrated that there seemed to be a lot of people ahead of me, twenty or so, but without having any expectations I was able to enjoy a nice, hard run through the mountains. When I finished, a few people commented to me that I was crazy for running both Crow Pass and then this. And these were people who had run Crow Pass, then sat this one out. It never occurred to me that I would need more than a week to recover from Crow Pass. After all, in the winter, we frequently race 50K marathons only a week apart. I had forgotten that marathon runners rarely run more than one a month. Hmm, maybe that was why I felt tired today. I was pleased to see that even though I was not near the top of the results, only one person ahead of me had run Crow Pass as well. In fact one guy who beat me at Crow Pass came in well after me this weekend.
I basked in this accomplishment for about thirty seconds, they realized I now had to fulfill my support duties. I ran put on a dry shirt, grabbed some water and headed back out on the course to jog in with Linda. She came along much sooner than I expected and was moving quickly enough that I really struggled to keep up with her to the finish. I was very excited about her accomplishment. I may make her into a slightly insane endurance athlete yet. She may not be a runner, but she sure beat a few out there.
Crow Pass Crossing
Saturday, July 19th, 2003Saturday July 19
Back in April, when I didn’t get into the Mountain Marathon, I circled a different date on my calendar as my ‘big race of the summer.’ That date was July 19, and the race was the Crow Pass Crossing.
The Crow Pass Crossing is a foot race through the backcountry of the Chugach Mountains. It starts south of Anchorage, near Girdwood, and travels up and over Crow Pass, down to Eagle River which is about halfway through the race. You then ford Eagle River, which the race entry form describes as a ‘quarter-mile wide, glacier-fed, thigh-deep, torrent’ (its not quite a quarter-mile wide). From there the ‘trail’ (and I used that term loosely) follows Eagle River, with a couple more smaller river crossings, out to the Eagle River Nature Center, which is north of Anchorage and is the finish line. The whole race is between 24 and 28 miles (no one really knows because it is too hard to measure).
It is a very hard race, and because it is so remote, the race organizers need to make sure that everyone who enters is capable of finishing in under 6 hours (the maximum time allowed). A few more quotes from the entry form:
“This is a risk filled and dangerous race. Bad things can and usually do happen. Someone has been injured or imperiled each year. There are very real hazards and little chance for immediate medical aid if needed. Racers are asked to please assist their fallen brethren. COmmunication is nigh onto impossible.”
“Don’t be stupid. Do not make this your first experience with the trail. If you believe you are special, you are wrong.”
And the list of hazards:
Good stuff. The entry form seemed like overkill, but maybe I was underestimating this race.
My first major decision was what kind of pack to take. I had seen from a picture in the newspaper, that the winner usually only carries a water bottle belt and then duct-tapes the required clothing to it. Required clothing is: hat, gloves, long underwear top & bottom, windbreaker and pants. I had planned to take an Ultimate Direction pack (like a Camelbak). Was that too much? I couldn’t see how one water bottle would be enough. So I went with the pack and 96oz of sport drink.
Crow Pass Crossing start
I’m in there somewhere
With this decision made, I found myself at the start line bright and early at 7:00 am. The first four miles of the race were uphill to the top of Crow Pass. At the top, I think I was in 8th place. The next ten miles were downhill to the river crossing. I knew that downhill running was not my strong point, but I moved my legs as fast as I could over the rocky terrain. Soon after we started the descent, the trail became overgrown with cow parsnip, devil’s club, and other wonderful weeds. The trail was still rocky and uneven, but now I couldn’t even see my feet because of the poisonous weeds all around me. I kept pushing, hoping with each step that my foot would land safely. Occasionally, it would not, and I would trip or fall flat on my face. Every time, I had to bounce back up and keep pushing. It is extremely hard to run all out when you can’t see the trail under your feet.
For the first half of the descent, there were two guys coming up behind me, Mark Strabel and Ben Speiss. When they caught up, I turned to ask if they wanted to go by…except they weren’t there anymore. That was weird. After the race, Mark explained that he had tripped and fallen and lost a few seconds. Then when he got up and continued his pursuit, he came around a corner and there was a bear in the middle of the trail. I never saw it, but it must have been right there when I went by, since I was only a few seconds ahead. Mark waited some more precious seconds while the bear moved off the trail and then he continued.
Ben caught me a few minutes later, and I followed him down to the river. I found it much easier to follow someone else. The river was apparently much higher than usual. It came up to mid-thigh on me. Lars Spurkland claimed it came up to his waist, but since he is about 6’8″, he must have been crossing on his knees or way off course.
When we got out of the water on the other side, my feet felt really weird. The icy water had numbed them, but as the feeling started to come back, I felt like I was running in clogs – my shoes felt hard, unforgiving and about 4 sizes too big. The feeling went away after a few minutes and I began to feel really good. I passed Ben and began to pull away. I lost time at the next river crossing and he caught up again, but I pulled away again. I knew that these couple of miles were the best trail I would see all day and I needed to take advantage of it. I was moving pretty well. Every time I stumbled I would feel my calf muscles start to cramp, but they would release. I began to wonder how long I had before they cramped up for good. The cramping made me notice that, even though I felt strong, I also felt dehydrated. I was drinking plenty of my sports drink, how could this be? I began drinking more often.
Soon enough I was back into the thick brush, rocks, and roots and struggling to maintain my balance on every stride. Many of the rocks and trees had drops of blood on them from other competitors. I would do a ‘superman’ (fall forward with my arms out in front of me) every ten minutes or so. But I had to keep pushing.
I was feeling more and more dehydrated and I began to think that my sports drink was too saturated. By drinking it, I was dehydrating my body more and more. I began to crave pure water, but I had none. Should I keep drinking the sports drink? I wasn’t sure, but I had no other option, so I did. Just when I began to think that I was slowing down, I saw two people ahead of me. This was a good sign, maybe I wasn’t going really slow through the technical stuff. But over the next 20 minutes, I couldn’t close the gap. Maybe they saw me and speeded up. Just when I thought I was finally going to catch them and move into 6th or 7th place (not sure which), Ben came motoring up from behind. He was now moving very fast and I hitched a ride with him as we reeled in the two ahead.
The four of us ran together until Echo Bend, which is a significant landmark in the race because it is three miles from the finish and the trail is much wider from there on in. At this point we began climbing for a little while. The gap between Ben and the guy behind him was opening up. I waited to see if it would close. When it became obvious that Ben was getting away, I passed the other two guys and reeled Ben in. I was feeling really good. In fact on a number of the hills, all the other guys were walking and I was still running. I passed Ben and was in 5th place and feeling good.
But then a funny thing happened….I bonked on a downhill. Now, I should tell you that I never bonk. Lots of times, I will gradually get tired and slow down, but I almost never have the instantaneous bonk, where you go from feeling decent to feeling awful in a few minutes. In fact I can’t remember a single time this has happened to me. But it happened today. Just after I had passed Ben, we were coming down a hill and he flew by me. At first I thought it was just me not pushing down the hill fast enough, but I couldn’t pick it up. And when we hit the flat I dropped even further behind. Then Trond Jensen came flying by me like I was standing still. I hadn’t seen this guy all race, but now he was charging for the finish, passing about 8 people in the last few miles. There was another guy with him, who I thought was also a racer, but now I am not sure.
Trond Jensen (63) et al. start passing me (third guy) as I bonk
It was at that point that I knew I was bonking. Was it because of the sports drink? The fact that I am not in my best shape? The fact that I have never done a race longer than three hours? I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. I just had to minimize the damage. Only two miles to the finish. I can do that.
I ran pretty well for the next mile, considering how awful I felt. One of the guys I had left behind earlier came by, but I thought I could hold my position from there on in. Then, with about a mile to go, I lost it. My pace slowed to a crawl. Mark Strabel came flying by me like I was standing still, which I might have been. I could barely move. Each step was a struggle. Fortunately there was no one else close behind me and I was able to fight my way to the finish line in 10th place in about 3 hours and 34 minutes. To show you how slow I was going at the end, Mark passed me with about a half mile left and he beat me by two minutes! Ouch.
I have never felt as bad after a race as I did for the first ten minutes that I sat at the finish line. They handed us all Snickers bars as we crossed the line, but all I wanted was water, and even that was hard to swallow. After a few cups of water, I began to get some life back, but my legs were shot. The were so tight I could barely hobble around.
Going into this race, I had no idea what to expect for a time. I was pretty sure I could do the course in under 4 hours, and I would have been thrilled to go under 3:30. I came close to my goal, and I was happy about that and my top ten finish, but I was still disappointed with my bonk. If I could have finished strong, I might have been sub-3:30 and top 5. I also noticed that everyone around me in the race was carrying a much smaller pack than I was. Something to keep in mind for next year.
I guess I did pretty well for a first-timer, its just that I always expect more. But hey, 3:34 isn’t too bad for a marathon distance through the backcountry of Alaska. And regardless of the finish, it was a worthwhile and fun adventure.
