Way Too Cool Race Report           March 5, 2016

Standing at the starting line with my friend Dave with two minutes before the start I wondered first, what was I doing here and second how the day would go. The usual race jitters weren’t there. I didn’t feel the excitement of the other runners like I usually do. I spent five hours in traffic the day before in the pouring rain for a drive that normally takes 2 ½ hours. The forecast for Saturday March 5 called for three inches of rain and 25 mph winds. I was mentally prepared for ‘a fine and pleasant misery’, but I was a little grumpy.

My training had not been going to plan. I should realize it never does. I did get in some long runs with Dave.  Over the past three months I spent more time on my own than I wanted running the trails in the Bay Area. I did enjoy the beauty of those trails. That beauty is what got me into this crazy sport.

I started the race at a comfortable pace, then slowed down. The goal was to listen to my body throughout the day, take care of myself, not push the limits and just get across the finish line. This was set to be my longest run in the past 8 years.

Three years ago I signed up for this race, but had to withdraw. My health wasn’t back to full endurance strength since I contracted Lyme disease in 2008. Completing the California Death Ride last year was a great confidence booster, but a bike doesn’t beat you up like a trail run.

The rain held off as we went through the first eight mile loop. It was wet and muddy on the course though. I got into a few pace lines and just ran comfortably. I had no problems with letting runners pass me. One lady didn’t want to get her shoes wet. She would be running on the wet grass slipping all over the place and I would run down the middle of the trail and pass her. When we got to a non-muddy part of the trail, she would pass me. We kept this up for about two miles. The trick I learned in college on the backroads of Montana is the place where the water was running down the trail was the least muddy and most stable path. The water washed the muck away.

After a stop and the porta potty at mile eight I started running downhill for three miles to the American River. I had been on this portion of the trail twice before during the Western States 100 runs in 2004 and 2006. Being a big guy, it hurts to run downhill slow. You have to literally balance fast downhill running with downhill face planting. I got in my downhill form, which is a slight drop in center of gravity and slight forward lead, and let myself freewheel down the technical single track. This section felt great. I could feel my heart rate going up, but took advantage of gravity.

When we crossed the road and started running along the river, a guy came up to me and complimented me on my downhill running. He said he was pushing the pace and had a hard time keeping up with me. He went on to say that I was running slower on the flat gravel road than I was on the technical downhill.

The reason I was running slow, was to recover from pushing the downhill. I got into mile 11 aid station, refilled my water, grabbed some PB&J sandwiches and ginger people soft chew candy and continued up the river. This section felt slow. I was getting light headed and my stomach felt strange. It was like it was detached. It is hard to describe.

We climbed from mile 15 to mile 18 up out of the river canyon the edge about 900 feet. After wading through three or four creeks and lots of mud, the trail flattened out and I found my stride.

Between miles eleven and 17 I was wondering if I was going to have to drop and walk back to the start. My friend Asaf teases me by telling those we run with that it takes me ten miles to warm up. He is probably right. By mile 17 I had locked in an upright running position that let me run uphill, on the flat and downhill, all with the same energy. I kept that form for the rest of the race.

Running down a steep muddy track where three of four runners were falling down, I ran into the fourth aid station call ALT. Here is where I made a mistake. I drank a few cups of coke and had some potatoes and salt and took off. All in all I never spent more than two minutes in any aid station.

I was now on the old course of Way Too Cool. I ran this course five times between 2002 and 2008. Sometime in the last eight years they changed it for the better.  I spent a fair amount of time by myself during this portion of the run. Occasionally I would pass a runner, occasionally one would pass me.  About ten minutes out ALT I took a drink of water and got nothing from my camelback bladder. I forgot to fill up with water at that even aid station. I had another hour and half of running before I got to the next water stop. I asked one runner behind me if he had any extra water, and he said no. It is a good thing it was raining hard. I took my chance with giardia by stopping by a fast flowing stream and half filling my water.

At mile 25 there is a one mile hill, named Goat Hill. It is a steep climb up to the next aid station. I kept my form and thought of my coaches instructions from 12 years ago. Keep the stride up at 180 steps per minute, keep the steps small on the uphill, and just keep tap, tap, tapping away. I was at the top of the hill before I knew it. I told the man filling my water (I remembered this time) that the next 3 ½ miles were the toughest part of the race for me. He smiled and said, the next three miles are always the hardest part of the race.  

Concentrating on my form, I just kept going. Tap. Tap. Tap. I started passing people. I was sore of course, but not in pain. When we crossed the Highway 49 for the last time, there was only 1.4 miles to the finish. Steady on I went. Not feeling spent, but feeling energetic. I didn’t kick to the end, but just kept moving.

When I crossed the finish, I was ecstatic. I fist pumped the air and let out a woohoo. I finished feeling strong. I still had the endurance capability. I put the nail in the coffin of that dreaded Lyme disease. Yeah, there are a lot of ‘I’s in that paragraph, but at the finish it is your own moment.

And the weather? It was overcast all day and rained for maybe a total of an hour during the whole day. I was running in short sleeves. Once we got off the course, the wind picked up and the skies opened up. It rained hard for the 2 ½ hours it took me to get home.

Now I am looking to figure out what is the next adventure.