A race report – because how else can I remember what happened?

Run the Caldera Marathon, June 13th, 2009
26.2 miles, at 8000 ft elevation, with more than 2100 ft elevation gain over the course.

I got up very early (3:50) to make it to DP’s by 4:50 am. Bones joined DP, DP’s spouse, and I for the drive up in DP’s very spacious SUV. We left just after 5. This is the first time I didn’t drive, and getting to watch the scenery was really nice. We met GeekGrl and S. Baboo to caravan up from Bernalillo. We got there at 6:25 for a 7:30 start – early in my book, but there were a lot of people I hadn’t seen in awhile, so the time passed quickly. For once, I was the one in the know, having done the course twice before. I made sure to mention the killer hills late in the course at mile 20 and 22, roughly – they are easy to miss in the elevation profile as they are short compared to the mountain you climb early in the race, but very steep. I also extolled on the virtues of the cattle trough full of cold water at the finish. Very refreshing for tired legs.

As is my wont as a scientist/runner/type A, I wrote out several time scenarios. Would you like to see them? No? Too bad.
2007 finish: 5:45
2008 finish: 5:13
I wanted this year to finish under 5 hours. It had been 4 weeks since the Jemez 50K/SF100 weekend, and I was feeling recovered. Mostly. I hadn’t done any long runs since then, so I wasn’t sure about the state of my endurance.

Best case time: 4:45 This would mean running everything except small portions, and running 9 minute miles on the flat-to-rolling bits. At altitudes around 9000 ft.
Very hard : 4:55 a tad more walking, and 9.5 min/mi
Hard: 5:01
Moderate: 5:07
Do-able: 5:11

The small field of 48 grouped near the start with only a few overly intense souls toeing the start line. The rest of us hung around in the general vicinity. We started off with an air horn. Isn’t that a bit of overkill with less than 50 runners? Couldn’t you just yell, “GO”? The caldera had gotten rain in the week before the race, just enough to keep too much of the fine soil from being raised into a cloud of black dust by our tromping feet. It was cool and overcast, with chance of thunderstorms later in the day. Good running weather. I started near Bones. Since his goal was to finish well but comfortably, I thought I might beat him. (It’s helpful when the competition isn’t feeling competitive…) He’s speedy, and I know he’s faster over short distances. Plus, I thought he’d set a good controlled pace for the first 3 – 4 miles that are roughly downhill.
Which he did. But did I stay with him? No. I was feeling pretty good. At one point, he said something to the effect of, “we’re doing 9 min miles – that’s too fast, Mo!” And I think I said, “I know, but I can’t help it.” And he had found someone to chat with. Since I wasn’t feeling like talking, I think we were both happier that I went off alone. I was sinking into the rhythm of running and breathing, looking and being. At mile three, the course turned uphill, gently at first. (I skipped the first aid station. My watch beeped every 30 min to remind me to take an e-cap or gel and water.) I kept running uphill, feeling good but slowing my pace down to 12 min miles. DP’s spouse started walking here to conserve energy, and I passed him. There was a guy ahead of me that kept about that pace, and I used him to keep me going. I caught him at mile 5, and we exchanged hellos, but not much more. There’s several streams that run through this area, some of them sulfur-y, but they provide nice background noise to get lost in. A few guys passed me after mile 7, I let them go as I thought following them would make me work too hard. As it was, I got to mile 10 (highest mark on the course) at 1:51… which was 2 minutes AHEAD of the BEST POSSIBLE time I had calculated. Ooops. I hoped I hadn’t spent too much on that climb – only time would tell. I took the next two miles easy, stopped and stretched twice, and tried to settle into a good pace. I ended up keeping about 9.5 min/mi down, with some parts at 10 – this is slower than I anticipated. The downhill is rutted and has some rocks, and I found it hard to get a rhythm. I could tell I was pretty tired. My calves were tight; I wished I had worn my compression socks. At the aid stations I was now refilling my water bottle (I drank 6 oz every three miles. I ate three gels over the course, and 2 e-caps an hour) and occasionally drinking some coke. At mile marker 15, my garmin said 14.5 miles, and it now looked like I wouldn’t finish under 5. I found it hard to enjoy the view coming down the mountain to the jeep road across the caldera as much as usual. I wondered if Mark and Steve were about to catch me after I wasted all that energy on the climb. I followed the road and it turned into the wind. I was getting hot here, so I doused my arm coolers with water. The simple fact of having cold arms (plus the scenery) shook me out of my disappointment. I decided to keep working. I could still beat my time from last year. So what if it wasn’t going to be easy? So what if it wasn’t a cake walk, wasn’t obvious, wasn’t a given, like some of my other races this year? The harder I had to work for it, the more I could enjoy it. So. I found I could run a little faster, and the need for discipline melted away. It’s so easy to talk myself into a corner, like the present is all that’s possible. The first step out of that corner is hard, but after that…

I wasn’t breaking any speed records here, but I picked my pace back up to 9.5 min miles and kept it steady. I caught a couple of the guys that had passed me going uphill. The rolling hills just before mile 20 caught me off guard, and I walked them at first. Then I ran as a guy I had just passed caught me. I “power-hiked” up the hill at mile 20, ran down it, and hiked up the next one. The volunteers here tell me I’m the 2nd woman! Woot! I think my exact words were, “No way!” I caught that guy again, and left him at the aid station. Then running downhill, my calves started to cramp. (The aid stations were a little shy on salty food selection, several only had pretzels which I don’t like.) Crap. So I get to the bottom and find a rock to stretch on. It took awhile to get them stretched out, and that guy passed me again (and he nicely asked if I was ok), I kept stretching until I felt them loosen. Better to resolve the problem now that to keep fighting it the last 5 miles. My garmin was about ¾ of a mile behind the mile markers at this point. I started running again, and I felt much better. Well, ok, my feet were achy and all the stabilizer muscles in my feet and ankles were tired, but I felt ok. I caught up to that guy again, and just kept him 20 yds in front of me. It’s mentally easier for me to follow someone than to feel pushed from behind. At the aid station at mile 23, I took some cherry coke. Blech. It was all they had. At this point, knowing the course was a huge benefit to me. I knew it was largely downhill from here, with a few flat sections and bumps. I did, however, start to let myself believe the mile markers instead of my garmin. Believing them meant that I would finish in 4:45, and that made me a bit too happy to be realistic. It did keep me focused… until after mile marker 25. Because all the miles since mile 13 were marked short, mile 25 was long. Really long. So although the aid station volunteer said there was only 1.5 miles to go, it was more like 2. I pushed the pace a little here, thinking I was close, and then it slowly sunk in as I ran, and ran, that I should trust my garmin. I passed the guy I’d been tracking for the last 5 miles at mile 25, and kept going. Finally I saw the clearing with our cars in it through the trees, and then the finish line. I couldn’t make out the numbers on the clock from across the field and I couldn’t look at my watch because the footing was so uneven. As I got close, I saw it read 4:5X and I was so happy I had kept it together.

My final time was 4:54:54. Kurt was there cheering, and he told me he thought I was second woman also. I was more excited to tell him that I finished 20 minutes faster than last year. I talked over the run with Ruthanne, who did fantastic, and went straight to the cattle trough. The one filled with cool water to soak my feet and calves, and wash off the dirt. The one I told all my friends about.

It was empty! The huge container of water was sitting right next to it on the trailer, but there was no hose. *sigh* I was disappointed, and I wished I hadn’t talked up that aspect of the race quite so loudly to my friends.

It took a little while for my calves to loosen up and my feet to feel less achy after the race. As second woman, I was supposed to receive a decorated plate. Unfortunately, they were not there to be given away, so the race organizers took our addresses. I did get 1st in my age group and so got a painted tile for that, which is nice. Shortly after I finished, I saw DP’s spouse cross the line, and then Bones and S. Baboo. I walked back up the trail maybe ½ mile with DP’s spouse to cheer her on, and run in with her.

The ride back was pleasantly spent recounting the tough parts, the pretty parts, and everything in between. And post race, I got called crazy freakin’ fast. I have no delusions about how fast I am, but it’s nice to hear other triathletes call me fast.

And now I get a break from racing, from testing myself for a little while. Time to enjoy training again. Time to get back in the pool after an 11 month hiatus.