Changing Seasons, Changing Gears

For most trail runners September signals beginning of the end of the season. Thoughts start shifting to gathering firewood, early powder days, and nights around the fire with friends. For me, racing started early this past season with a trip to Hong Kong for the Asian Skyrunning Continental Championships back in February. After that race I set out on what I had dubbed “the summer of adventure”, that was, of course, after a couple more months of skiing.I didn’t race a single ultra all summer, but I ran more than I ever have. There were incredible adventures in the Boulder-White Clouds, the Tetons, the Wind River Range, The Gray’s River Range, the Sierra’s, Zion and the Wasatch. I was not regimented in a focused training program, rather I left gaps to run with friends as opportunities presented themselves. As August came along I started to feel an itch, one that I hadn’t felt for quite some time. I had the itch to race. This became painfully evident as I helped Ty Draney at El Vaquero Loco early in the month. For the previous 7 years I had raced the Vaquero, and as I watched the runners disappear up the trail a fire was rekindled. A few days later I drove the High Sierra to attempt a long, unsupported route that, in the end, turned out to be too much, with too little experience in that type of travel.Luckily I had been in contact with Mike Foote, the race director of The Rut in July and put my name in the mix for the race. I had raced The Rut in it’s previous two editions, but admittedly I had not had an A race at either one. After the Sierra misadventure, I put in a couple of weeks of focused training and tried to bring adventure fitness up to par with race fitness.Friday afternoon we loaded the van; three kids, a huge pile of gear, my wife and I piled in and made the 3 hour drive up to Big Sky. A cold front moved in just in time for the weekend’s events and the air had a solid fall bite. Saturday we enjoyed a leisure day at Big Sky, we played mini golf, the kids swam in the pool, and we caught up with friends we hadn’t seen all summer. After a pre-race dinner of burgers and fries we headed to the room early to try to get some sleep before the next morning’s race. I slept poorly that night, not because of the kids, but because of race nerves. It may seem strange, but it felt good to have that feeling back, it had been absent for quite some time.Ten minutes before the start of the race I kissed the kids on the forehead and headed out the door of the hotel. A short warmup put me on the starting line just a few seconds before the start. I had promised myself one thing in the moments before the start, “enjoy the journey”, I muttered to myself and then, with Mike Wolfe blasting an elk call, the race began.Normally, I do not race particularly smart. I tend to go out too fast, blow-up and then try to hang on to the finish. Although I felt nervous, I felt no need to perform to anyone’s expectations but my own and I held back a little for the first couple of miles to allow my body to find the groove I needed to maintain all day. The first part of the course is beautiful smooth single track, and it’s fast running. The legs moved well, but I was really glad when we turned into the mountain section and started climbing. This terrain change allowed me to pull from a summer’s worth of adventure and to start really racing. I steadily moved up from around 19th or so to just outside of the top ten. The technical, exposed ridge and scree running boosted my spirits and helped me to shift into another gear. I saw my wife and kids at mile 18, right at the base of the biggest climb of the day, Lone Peak. I got a couple of high-fives and then happily ascended into my favorite part of the course. I was able to move up a couple more spots and even caught Max King near the top.I continued to relish in the technical running as we quickly descended off of Lone Peak, and I briefly caught Edward Farley before having a little twinge of cramping in my right hamstring. This happened just as we popped onto a summer service road and I backed off the pace slightly in hopes to hold the cramps back. Max quickly caught me and I was able to bum a couple of salt tabs from him. He disappeared down the road using his exceptional turn-over and I was alone, trying not to loose too much ground. It didn’t take long for the cramps to disappear and I pushed as hard as I could trying to make up ground on Max. Occasionally I would catch a glimpse of him, but in the end he put a few minutes into me and finished 6th. I cruised into the finish in 7th overall, in a time of 5:47:51, more than an hour faster than last year.The entire race had gone very well for me. I never had a deep low, never really exploded, and with the exception of the short lived cramps my body felt fantastic. As I reflect back on the race I really feel that the biggest reason for the result I had was the mindset that I created at the start. I set out to enjoy the journey. It was not about conquering the course, or destroying competition, it was about pushing myself while soaking in the majesty of the mountains and the awesomeness of human potential. I was not the fastest racer of the day, but I think I had the most fun. There was no suffering, no slogging, just joy. It was the kind of day in the mountains that doesn’t happen all that often and I will remember it for a long time to come.