Dick Collins 50 Miler 2014: Hills, Madelines, and Super Nice People

I was pretty excited to run the Dick Collins 50 Miler. I hadn't run a 50 miler in quite a while, since May at Bear Mountain (which is so tough and technical it's more like a 75 miler than a 50, ugh). I had PRd on this course, so was hopeful, even though it was 2 weeks since Hinson 24 hour, and 3 weeks since North Coast 24 hour. Ouch. I felt it.

I started out, pretty excited and happy to run! It was so pretty. I was chatting up a storm with everyone around me, pointing out all of the pretty views. The course is just jaw-dropping, and oh yeah, this is totally normal for California and everyone stares at you like you are an alien when you scream, "OMG LOOK AT THAT VIEW," and they say, "That looks like everywhere out here. What is wrong with you?" Ooops. New Yorker.

There's a different vibe to running out in California; there's history. I mean, GORDY was in the race. Swoon. Gordy, the father of ultrarunning. People said, "Western," and they meant Western States. OBVIOUSLY. Everyone was amazed I came out for this race, but I told them they shouldn't be. It's an awesome race, beautiful, AND very importantly, the day before San Francisco's Burning Man Decompression.

The course is not easy but beautiful. Lots of ups and downs. I kept saying, "I don't remember the course being this hard!" Up and down, more ups than downs, it seems, but as the course was pretty much out and back, you know it really wasn't. My hamstrings felt DESTROYED. I kept stopping to stretch. They hurt so terribly.

I saw an old ultrarunning friend Steve, who was working an aid station while he was injured. He didn't mind the sweaty hug. 

I'll admit; the food at the aid stations weren't quite as good when Ann Trason was RD. I basically ran a 50 mile all-you-can-eat buffet when she was RD. This was still quite good - grilled cheese at the turnaround, yay. They had these little packages of madelines, and given that I adore madelines and bake them, I ate approximtaely 400. Well, not that many, but I couldn't stop eating them and had to restrict myself. I knew I wasn't burning that many calories, ha.

I pulled it into the finish, way slower than I thought and hoped. Blisters, soreness, but I was okay. I was disappointed, but I guess my legs are just too slow right now. Sigh. Oh well. Next year, I'll be fresher!

And yes, next year, I'll be back.

We got pretty good schwag - tshirts, wine glasses, little reusable backpacks, fleeces. The post-race BBQ was nice, the volunteers friendly, and I'll def be back! See you next year on the trails!

Wait, why don't I live in California?

We slipped on our shoes and headed out the door....and Jerry and I were running here within a mile. There's a wolf in the background. Tough hills. Mountains, really. Dry. Why do I live in NYC? Because it's my energy and my city and my love and my family and my friends and my community but sometimes, I just want to roll out my door into awesome running. Maybe in another ten years I'll be ready to move out there, but until then, I know all the awesome spots to run in NYC.

California Running

I fell in love with California running the first time I went out to San Francisco, pushing myself up the hills past the purple houses with their overgrown, lush gardens, past the ageing hippies smoking cloves on the corners, past the oblivious tourists and the too cool for school hipsters dominating the appropriate neighborhoods. But when I discovered California trail running, that’s when I really fell in love.

Even our feet are in love!

Cherie Hearts Redwoods!

North Face Challenge San Francisco 50 Miler. Dick Collins 50 Miler. Miwok 100k.

When I run out there, I vow I want to live there. I want to know the trails by heart that causes me to pause in my steps to gasp, “Oh, oh!,” as I run past.

We first headed to Tahoe for Wayne’s brother’s wedding. On our first run, we headed into Eagle Falls, a beautiful trail where my asthma and hatred of snow turned the run into a run-hike. Day, snow was slippery and hard to run on, and I hate snow in general so I thoroughly cursed everything as Wayne boldly blazed through. We headed to a different trail a bit down the road that was much flatter, but my asthma was really bothering me. Stupid altitude. I don’t like to give up, so Wayne pushed me to stop.

The next day was Wayne’s brother’s wedding. We took out the groom for a great 45 minute run. Wayne found this trail on a trail map and it was fun – ups, downs, rolling hills, pretty views, giant pinecones. It helped de-stress the groom and we all felt good after the run. It was pretty – but cold. The temperatures in Tahoe were in the fifties when we were there, and often raining or misting.

The following day, we left Tahoe, heading to Big Sur to celebrate my birthday there. We ran Buzzard’s Roost at Big Sur State Park, heading uphill over 800 meters. The run was breathtaking. I carried my camera, and kept stopping to snap pics of the Redwoods, of the beautiful views. The Redwoods are amazing – their sheer massiveness is so impressive. It saddens me to think of how they are chopped down for patio furniture without a thought.

We had a bit more time the following day so we headed back to Big Sur State Park. We followed the Pine Ridge Trail, which was my favourite type of California running – ridges! Great views, uphills, though stupid me forgot my inhaler so had to take it easy on the uphills. We saw tracks of an animal, and fresh poop and began to get scared, realizing we were gaining on whatever animal it was. We turned around, enjoying the awesome downhills.

The rest of the day, we spent driving up and down Highway 1, stopping in random parks and beaches to hike, walk, enjoy the view. I wanted to run again, but we didn’t have time.

We headed into San Francisco, and then to one of my favourite places to run, Marin Headlands. It was gorgeous. I’ve run both the San Fran 50 Miler and Miwok 100k here, and loved the views. We walked around, gasping at the Redwoods, enjoying the sunset, taking photos, inhaling the view…It was amazing.

We wanted to head to Auburn to do a little running in the morning (Western States 100 Miler course, hello!), but Wayne wasn’t feeling good, and was doing the driving so we randomly stopped in Fairfield, CA. In the a.m., he slept, still not feeling good, while I headed out. I found a pretty creek to run alongside, with a long stretch of about 400 meters. I did 6 x 400, as well as 3 x my plyometrics workout. It felt great.

And back to NYC, with its grey streets and skyline views…I’ll miss the trails, the awe-inspiring views, but I’ll be back. I know for sure.

Miwok 100k Videos!

I've never taken videos during a race before, but these two videos should give you a good idea of how I act during a 100k race...

Mile 46 or so...

Mile 57 or so....

The Miwok 100k

I was really excited to run the Miwok 100k – it was on some of the same trails as the North Face Challenge – San Francisco 50 Miler, trails that are so gorgeous you will (if you are me), shout to the nearest runner, “Oh my god! Isn’t that gorgeous?” It is that amazingly beautiful. It makes me want to pack up my cute little apartment and head to the left coast for a lifetime of amazing trail running.

The race started at 5.40a.m. on the Beach. Starting on sand was a little challenging, but fun. We quickly filed into one-by-one and headed up a trail. Some people had headlamps, but most didn’t. We all went on a short out-and-back, and I got to see some of my friends, which was really nice – and of course, be wowed by Kami Semeck, Anton K., Jen Shelton, among others.

The hills were tough, but I was feeling pretty good. However, I very quickly felt the heat. At mile ten, I dropped my long-sleeved shirt and gloves into my first drop bag, and headed on. Around mile 15, I realized I would soon be out of water. I’m usually fine at ultras – but I usually don’t run upwards of 7 miles with no water, and I’m usually not suddenly thrust into heat like this.

At the mile 19 or 20 aid station, I asked a volunteer if they had an extra water bottle. We improvised; she filled an empty plastic juice bottle with water.  I ran with this rather awkwardly the rest of the way.

The course was full of ups and downs…I got passed on those horrible, somewhat technical section leading down to the beach, but then felt strong going upwards. There was tripping, gasps at beautiful views of the water, of beaches, of rolling hills. I could not believe there were this many trails with phenomenal views, just outside one of the coolest cities in the U.S.

Mile 28.5 (and again around mile 40-ish) had a great Hawaiian theme, complete with leis, popsicles, potatoes, and very friendly faces. Scott Jurek was helping out; I think his girlfriend was running the race as well.

Everyone loved my all-pink ensemble: pink visor, pink tank, pink polka dot skirt, pink compression sleeves, pink gaiters. “The pink lady!” It cheered me up, but at the end, when people told me how good I looked, I ensured them that I felt like utter crap.

I tripped on the clumsy grass and fell. A man running behind me had me take a salt pill, and I stumbled on awkwardly. I felt like I was falling apart.

Around mile 49, I just wanted the stupid race to be over. That’s why 50 milers are my favourite race: just when you’re aching for it to be over, it is.

I continued on, mostly alone, as I was most of the race. I met some kickass people, but found myself running ahead of them or falling behind – towards the end of the race, it was mostly falling behind.

My shins were aching increasingly, on the lower anterior portions. I could feel blisters growing. I was very sunburnt, dehydrated, lacking salt, electrolytes, sugar. My asthma (usually quite in control) was not very stable and I found myself using my inhaler multiple times, especially whenever I tried to push it on an uphill. (At the end, I simply walked every uphill rather than run, for the mere reason that I was worried my asthma would not push me into a full-on asthma attack.) I was quite disoriented and was crying hysterically on and off the last 12.5 miles.

At the final aid station, not knowing there was another aid station (and hoping, oh please, we were almost at the finish), when a woman told me how much longer, I allowed myself to bawl in front of her.

“Take some ibuprofen,” she told me. “I can give you some.”

“I can’t,” I wept. “I can’t take ibuprofen.” Stupid surgery messing up everything. “I hurt everywhere,” I told her. “My shins hurt…my asthma is messed up. I have blisters and I’m so out of it. I hate this race.”

She listened to me cry. “Would you like me to run the rest of the race with you?”

I stared at her in shock. “That’s five miles!”

“So?”

“No, you need to run your race.”

And that’s why I love ultrarunners…this woman, who did now know me at all, would throw her race (and any training she had put into it) to help me – a complete stranger. (I remember at The Boston Marathon when I paused to find my endurolytes, completely dizzy and not a single runner offered support. Road runners are a different breed.)

I encouraged her to go on, and was weeping as I entered the final aid station.

The volunteers were quite concerned. They made me take endurolytes, eat jellybeans, cookies. “Sugar depletion,” they diagnosed. They asked me if I was sure I was okay, told me I would be okay. Before leaving, I threw myself in a volunteer’s arms, completely bawling. I felt selfish for crying at a wonderful, beautiful race when I have so much to be thankful for in this world, but I just couldn’t stop.

I went on, crying, eating jellybeans. I stopped crying, and pushed it up the hills. The last 3.8 miles felt like 20. I used my inhaler, cursed my shins, struggled on the climbs, cried some more.

Finally, you get to the top and see the race down below. It looks so close – but it’s SO far. Much of the downhill was on asphalt, and I’m pretty sure the course is designed this way is so that it could torture my aching shins. I almost cried with each and every step, and tried to run in a very controlled fashion.

The finish was windy, but beautiful – waves crashing in, cheers. I crossed the finish line and began crying out of control. Karen helped me, along with some of the race volunteers. They covered me with blankets as I cried, shivering, suffering. It was over, but I still hurt. I lied down on the dirt ground in front of the heat lamp with a fleece blanket saying MIWOK 100k (BTW, great race swag: a t-shirt, hat, bottle, bag, bottle of beer, blanket, more), crying, shivering.

I woke up, sunburned, in pain, feeling horrid. I felt nauseas, almost like I had the flu. Was it sunburn? Was it hell? Who knows, but it sucked.

I got this feeling of being so selfish for not enjoying this beautiful race and wonderful opportunity (especially when I won’t be able to run post-recovery), but I just couldn’t make myself do it.

Overall, it was a beautiful struggle. I’m SO glad I finished, although the end completely sucked and was painful and unhappy. However, finishing when you’re in pain – it proves just how strong you are.

And just because I’m from New York and weak on the hills doesn’t mean I’ll let the hills conquer my soul.

Dick Collins Firetrails 50 Miler Race Report

I initially read about the Dick Collins Firetrails 50 Miler in Trail Runner magazine, and it sounded awesome -- good footing, good views, good foods, good people. I fantasized about running it, but didn't register until just a month before the race. I'm so glad I did - it was my favorite ultra ever, probably even my favorite race.

I went to bed early the night before (East Coast time helped me out!) and slept 8 hours, waking up periodically to make sure I hadn't overslept. I arrived at the start, chatted with some really friendly runners, stretched, shivered. The race was fairly chilly at the start -- I started the run with just a tank top and running skirt on, and throwaway gloves (which I wore until mile 20).

With a view like this, how could I not be inspired to run fast?

We started in the dark at 6:30, but as most of it was on pavement in the very beginning, headlamps weren't really necessary. There were some hills, but I pushed on, excited to finally be running a race I heard about months ago and constantly thought about -- especially one that was run by the legendary Ann Trason! Wooohooo! (I don't crush on celebrities, but on ultrarunners like Ann Trason.) I ran the first twenty or so miles with a really lovely woman named Laura; we discussed our desires (and my fears!) to get into the Western States 100 Miler lottery. I lost her when I stopped to pee, and I was happy to see that she finished quite strong (and made the qualifying time for Western States lottery).

Focusing and running hard

The course was hilly -- lots of ups and downs -- and is an out and back. This means that while mile 20-25 you are running downhill, you hate it because you know on the way back you will be walking and suffering. Most of the hills weren't the heavy-breathing-painful-walking-type-hills, but the kind where you could drink some water while power walking or even do a slow run up them. There weren't too many technical portions (yay, because I suck at technical running), but there were some really lovely views, including a bunch of switchback portions which made it difficult to sometimes see how far ahead you had to go.

Smiling big around mile 16

The aid stations -- they were THE BEST of any ultra. Most aid stations tend to run out if you aren't in the top 10% of the race, but this ultra was great. Each aid station had water, heed, S-caps, homemade cookies, homemade brownies, potato chips, pretzels, potatoes with salt, m&ms, watermelon, oranges. I ate brownies, potato chips and watermelon. Yum!

eating a brownie while running=heaven!

I met so many amazing people -- super-friendly runners, aid station volunteers. I was wearing all pink - pink visor, pink tank, pink running skirt, pink gaiters -- so whenever I arrived in an aid station, I got the "Pink lady!" or "Pink!" shouts. It felt pretty good.

I was SO happy to finish. I was pushing as hard as I could, running the hills, and when I saw the finish line, I almost started crying. I ran with my hands high up in the air, pumping them with a massive smile!

Post-race, finishers got a wine glass, jacket, t-shirt, tote bag, and the most amazing post-race BBQ (veggie burgers, grilled meat (if you're into that), homemade soups, pasta salads, corn, amazing dessert, yum) -- I chatted with a newbie and his family, and had the biggest smile!

I had PR'd by an hour and twenty minutes -- I finished in 9:47! I had hoped to break 11 hours, and to break 10 was awesome. I came in the top 100, and this was pretty fantastic in my opinion (out of 234 starters).

Strangely enough, that night I went to a party, had swollen feet but was mostly fine; the next day, the aches were so minimal I barely noticed; I went to San Francisco Burning Man Decompression and danced and walked around for nearly twelve hours. Only my big toenail complained (and looks like we're getting rid of that toenail anyway!), but I felt remarkably recovered from having run a hilly 50 miler!

Finish line rewards!