Spot the Bogey at 2019 Canyons 100k

Who has two thumbs, one herniated disc and runs 100km as “training”? Dis guy! Canyons 100k, held late April in Foresthill, runs some of the hardest parts of the Western States trail twice, out and back. Makes it harder for me to get lost. As long as fast runners are coming at me, I'm still on course!

Pre-race prep was unusual to say the least. Training was non-traditional - with one aging dog and a new puppy, my weekday runs were short, compensated with weight vests, squats and lunges. So not a lot of time on feet there (or cells in brain either, but that's another matter). The day before the race, I read my social media feed with envy as my friends were traveling to their hotels and dining on their well planned carb load. This from the discomfort of an airport on the east coast, where I'd dined earlier in the day on Chick-fil-A for the first time ever in my life. Tasty snacks on the 6 hour flight home would be my fuel. Sleep deprived, unsure what's happening to my gut, I thought to myself that this is all good training for my next 100 miler. If I repeat it enough, I’ll believe it, too.

The race start felt mellow. Greetings to a few familiar faces, wait in line for the bathroom, last minute eats. Same old, same old. Road start to gap out the runners, funnel into a single track, the hurry up and wait tango. Same old, same old. As we finished the first climb up Volcano Canyon 4 miles in, the passing lanes finally opened up so I could burn out my legs with too much enthusiasm and crash later. Same old same old.

From here, due to late snow season, we took an alternate course, swapping out the steeper Devils Thumb climb for an earlier out-n-back on a fire road that I’ll dub “The Pinky”. The section allowed us to see everyone on the course, those runners already ahead of us and those that will eventually be ahead of me after I crash and burn. The fun, mild downhill fire road allowed my legs to open up as I gave thanks to the fact that half the course is downhill.

The return uphill from the Pinky wasn’t too bad either. Mostly runnable. By the time I got to the second aid station at Michigan Bluff, I was just warming up and feeling good. The week prior I had been nursing a calf cramp and was concerned that I would not be able to race at all. The calf seemed to be fine and the fast, 3 mile long technical descent to El Dorado was not a problem. I had some funny pains in my right knee, not in the funny haha sense, but funny “Adam Sandler” annoying sense.  Anyhow, it didn’t affect my ability to run and shortly disappeared as we started the long 3.5 mile climb up to Deadwood.

A second out-n-back to Deadwood gave us a very close look at the other runners, as speedy runners flew downhill and nearly crashed into us a few hundred times on the narrow single track cliff side trail. Crazy nutters, slow down! At the summit was just a checkpoint where we would unceremoniously turn around. No dancing skills required. I got to see many of my Quicksilver compatriots on this section. Among them, Pierre was just a minute or two behind. I wasn’t in a hurry but when Pierre caught up to on the return downhill, I knew I wasn’t trying hard enough.

What I lack in youth, good looks, charm, wit, grace, sensibility, wisdom, vigor, strength, speed, sartorial style, any style, really, amiability, courteousness, talent, dance skills, a whiff of musical talent, intelligence, conviviality, pleasant voice, inoffensive breath, full set of teeth and toenails, creativity, grit, affability, humility, sense of direction, and 31 other redeemable qualities, I make up for in some small way with a willingness to throw myself downhill on a trail, particularly technical ones. Being caught halfway downhill, even by le magnifique coureur Pierre-Yves Couteau, was not something I was going to take lying down, standing still, or ambling downhill. Crazy nutter, speed up! I turned on the afterburners and charged downhill fast enough to ensure he wouldn’t pass. Unfortunately, my left knee started to hurt this time, forcing me to walk the final two hundred meters to the El Dorado aid station.

The next uphill to Michigan Bluff was its usual sufferable self but at least both knees felt normal again. It wasn’t until the descent down Volcano Canyon that things took another turn for the worse and now my right knee was hurting again - the left was fine. With only two smaller downhills remaining in the second half, I was hoping the pattern was going to repeat and I could at least walk those two hills and run the remaining flat 28 miles along the river (such lovely ultra runner logic). I always say that nothing fixes me like a 50 mile run, and I was only 30 miles in. Unfortunately, the sharp nerve(?) pain did not subsequently disappear on the uphill to Foresthill. With the questionable knee and future races lined up this year, I opted out like a pro, as did BJB and Joe Sanders, my two compatriots ahead of me. The aid station captain, Ethan, originally tried to encourage me to continue but was agreeable to my planned stop when I said I was trying to be healthy for his race in June.

So I pulled a bogey and whiffed on my first trail race of the year. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right? And gets you beer and burritos? Because while my comrades were sweating out their 100k runs, I went and got a beer and a burrito. So that makes me stronger. I can’t wait to kick ass at the next race,... or get stronger and get burritos after DNF’ing that too.

Spot the Bogey-Meister. photo: Bree