Peterson Ridge Rumble race report 4/7/09
I toed the line on Sunday morning with no small amount of trepidation. My hamstring has been intermittently bothering me for the last month or two and I wasn’t really sure what to expect from it. Since it only really hurts when I run fast (relatively speaking, that is), and it was pretty cold out, I started out nice and slow. I wanted to give myself some leeway to speed things up in the 2nd half of the race if my body felt up to it.
I toed the line on Sunday morning with no small amount of trepidation. My hamstring has been intermittently bothering me for the last month or two and I wasn’t really sure what to expect from it. Since it only really hurts when I run fast (relatively speaking, that is), and it was pretty cold out, I started out nice and slow. I wanted to give myself some leeway to speed things up in the 2nd half of the race if my body felt up to it.
Race morning temps were in the mid 20's
My strategy, as always, was simple:
1) start slow, keep some gas in the tank
2) assess and adjust, be patient
3) begin passing people in the last 1/3 of the race
Unfortunately #2 just didn’t work out the way it has in my last few races, so point #3 had to be revised radically
3 revised) welcome to sufferfest!
This being my 5th ultra now, I have been expecting to have something other than the best race, or a PR (personal record) any race now. I finally got it at the Rumble. I started nice and slow, I met some nice folks, and got some good tips from ultra-awesome runner Linda. She kept a nice steady rhythm, and I decided to hang in there despite her assurance that she didn’t plan on seeing Ken again, who left us in his dust at about mile 2. Since his pre-race time estimate was similar to mine, my plans were otherwise. The course was meandering through some sweet sweet singletrack, weaving in and out of Ponderosa’s, but generally straying flat. I mean flat, really flat. I quickly became concerned about the lack of hills. Hills are what I need during a race. Actually let me revise that, justified walking breaks are what I need during a race. I simply do not excel at running flats for extended periods of time. Those sorts of training runs do not exist my neck of the woods. Case in point, the Mac course, where I do all my training, has 6700 ft of cumulative elevation gain. The Peterson Ridge course feels like it has less than 2000 ft. Irregardless (one of my favorite not word words), I still found places here and there to take it easy. I most definitely should have listened to the kind hearted volunteer at AS #3, who told me that then next stretch was icy. I hit the very first patch of ice on a downhill, promptly slipped and fell absolutely flat on my back. I banged up my ego, shoulder and forearm, but was otherwise OK. Shortly thereafter we hit the “grunt” climb and I felt as strong as I would feel all day. I like hills, but they were too few and too far in between for me to run a solid race on this course.
At and after AS #4, where the longer course again coincides with the shorter course, I started running into (not literally) a bunch of the Corvallis trail crew. Gaby, effervescent as always, looked strong, as did father and son team Dave and Eric. There was no sign of my trail bunny though, and nobody seemed to be quite as impressed with my new trail tattoo as I was. I chalked this up to my newbie status, this was the first course I had left a piece of myself out on. It felt nice though, I felt that the blood I left on the ice had somehow strengthened my bond with the course, and it felt strangely reassuring to know that I gone out to play in the woods, and was going to come back just a little worse for the wear, just like when I was a kid again.
By AS #5 I felt slow. A woman who I had beat at Hagg Lake flew by me like I was standing still. I found out afterwards that she was running the shorter race, but given how my body felt, mentally, I never even allowed for that possibility. I was running sans watch, so I didn’t really know if my splits were off or not, but I was cramping in my glutes and upper hamstrings, and that never happens to me. At this point I felt sort of cracked out. I was pretty sure that I had switched from water to energy drink too early in the race, and now my body just felt a bit weak. After failing to respond well to a few attempts at picking up the pace for any extended period of time, I stopped asking it for more, and was satisfied with any forward progress whatsoever. I was very glad to have a buddy to tackle hilly road up to AS #6 with. Thanks for the positive vibes Todd. From the top of AS #6, the course undulates slowly downhill on fantastic single track thru short manzanita stands. As my 2xcaffeine gel kicked in for real, view after view of crystal white Cascade mountains (Sisters, Broken Top, Washington, Jack, Jefferson, Black Butte, Belknap Crater) unfolded before me as I steadily, and finally gained the upper hand on Rod, whose black and white shirt I had been following from a few hundred yard back for roughly 15 miles or so. My elation at the awesome course was short lived however, because not a few minutes later, I heard John's voice 30 yards back. Not only was I barely passing people at this point, but I was about to get passed, and he sounded strong. This was not a position I have been in the second half a race for a long time. Panic filled my steps as I became the hunted. I was delaying the inevitable, desperately trying to hang on to the notion that I was having a good race, while John was slowly and inexorably closing the gap between us. It quickly became evident that he was killing the downhills, and I gladly stepped aside to let him by. Having done so, I felt much better. I let go of my notion of holding him off, and blissed out about how awesome the trail was, how crisp and clean the air felt, how much I like stands of Ponderosa pines, how the wistful notion of running flat trails seemed so attractive before I tackled this race.
My strategy, as always, was simple:
1) start slow, keep some gas in the tank
2) assess and adjust, be patient
3) begin passing people in the last 1/3 of the race
Unfortunately #2 just didn’t work out the way it has in my last few races, so point #3 had to be revised radically
3 revised) welcome to sufferfest!
This being my 5th ultra now, I have been expecting to have something other than the best race, or a PR (personal record) any race now. I finally got it at the Rumble. I started nice and slow, I met some nice folks, and got some good tips from ultra-awesome runner Linda. She kept a nice steady rhythm, and I decided to hang in there despite her assurance that she didn’t plan on seeing Ken again, who left us in his dust at about mile 2. Since his pre-race time estimate was similar to mine, my plans were otherwise. The course was meandering through some sweet sweet singletrack, weaving in and out of Ponderosa’s, but generally straying flat. I mean flat, really flat. I quickly became concerned about the lack of hills. Hills are what I need during a race. Actually let me revise that, justified walking breaks are what I need during a race. I simply do not excel at running flats for extended periods of time. Those sorts of training runs do not exist my neck of the woods. Case in point, the Mac course, where I do all my training, has 6700 ft of cumulative elevation gain. The Peterson Ridge course feels like it has less than 2000 ft. Irregardless (one of my favorite not word words), I still found places here and there to take it easy. I most definitely should have listened to the kind hearted volunteer at AS #3, who told me that then next stretch was icy. I hit the very first patch of ice on a downhill, promptly slipped and fell absolutely flat on my back. I banged up my ego, shoulder and forearm, but was otherwise OK. Shortly thereafter we hit the “grunt” climb and I felt as strong as I would feel all day. I like hills, but they were too few and too far in between for me to run a solid race on this course.
At and after AS #4, where the longer course again coincides with the shorter course, I started running into (not literally) a bunch of the Corvallis trail crew. Gaby, effervescent as always, looked strong, as did father and son team Dave and Eric. There was no sign of my trail bunny though, and nobody seemed to be quite as impressed with my new trail tattoo as I was. I chalked this up to my newbie status, this was the first course I had left a piece of myself out on. It felt nice though, I felt that the blood I left on the ice had somehow strengthened my bond with the course, and it felt strangely reassuring to know that I gone out to play in the woods, and was going to come back just a little worse for the wear, just like when I was a kid again.
By AS #5 I felt slow. A woman who I had beat at Hagg Lake flew by me like I was standing still. I found out afterwards that she was running the shorter race, but given how my body felt, mentally, I never even allowed for that possibility. I was running sans watch, so I didn’t really know if my splits were off or not, but I was cramping in my glutes and upper hamstrings, and that never happens to me. At this point I felt sort of cracked out. I was pretty sure that I had switched from water to energy drink too early in the race, and now my body just felt a bit weak. After failing to respond well to a few attempts at picking up the pace for any extended period of time, I stopped asking it for more, and was satisfied with any forward progress whatsoever. I was very glad to have a buddy to tackle hilly road up to AS #6 with. Thanks for the positive vibes Todd. From the top of AS #6, the course undulates slowly downhill on fantastic single track thru short manzanita stands. As my 2xcaffeine gel kicked in for real, view after view of crystal white Cascade mountains (Sisters, Broken Top, Washington, Jack, Jefferson, Black Butte, Belknap Crater) unfolded before me as I steadily, and finally gained the upper hand on Rod, whose black and white shirt I had been following from a few hundred yard back for roughly 15 miles or so. My elation at the awesome course was short lived however, because not a few minutes later, I heard John's voice 30 yards back. Not only was I barely passing people at this point, but I was about to get passed, and he sounded strong. This was not a position I have been in the second half a race for a long time. Panic filled my steps as I became the hunted. I was delaying the inevitable, desperately trying to hang on to the notion that I was having a good race, while John was slowly and inexorably closing the gap between us. It quickly became evident that he was killing the downhills, and I gladly stepped aside to let him by. Having done so, I felt much better. I let go of my notion of holding him off, and blissed out about how awesome the trail was, how crisp and clean the air felt, how much I like stands of Ponderosa pines, how the wistful notion of running flat trails seemed so attractive before I tackled this race.
At the last AS I was greeted by none other than last years Oregon trail series champ, William Swint, who treated me like a champ and promptly sent my on my way. Thanks to all the volunteers out there, your help was very much appreciated! I couldnt bear to drink any more Nuun, my body had been rebelling against it for hours, so I went with a gel, thinking that nothing else would be digested before the finish. Promptly Ken came into view, and I realized that I was happy at seeing him, since his pre-race time goal was very similar to mine and it meant that my race might not quite as off time-wise and I was expecting. Evidently these guys have been running together for quite some time, because Ken had some strong words of encouragement for me to catch up. I took one last quick walking break for a hundred yards, and finally willed myself over the last few undulations, across the road and around the track to the finish line (full results here). It was not pretty, but I finished. Timewise, I was only 5 minutes off my goal pace (in a 5:45 race time thats a pretty legimate estimate), but pacewise, I didnt feel as good as I did at at Hagg Lake two months ago. I’m not sure if that means I had a good day at Hagg Lake, or if had just an OK day at the Rumble, but anyways I had a fun race on a really sweet course , and can’t wait for the Mac next month.
Rod, John, Ken and I, post race
My trail tattoo is legit, right?
Rod, John, Ken and I, post race
My trail tattoo is legit, right?
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