Race report: Rock the Ridge

Happy at the finish
📷: Stephen Stewart-Hill

Crap, no posts since February?  What the hell.

I wish I had some great excuse, but I don't.  Not much has happened on the running front, at least from a personal standpoint, since Rocky Raccoon.  I've been building up the coaching service a little bit, and spending devoting a little more of my mental energy towards working with my athletes; I've continued to spend time trying to develop the exercise science project I've been working on for the past year; and much of the leftover bandwidth I'd usually devote to the blog has instead been focused on the podcast.  But you'd think I could find a few minutes for an update in there somewhere.  I guess not.

Recovery from RR100 went...OK, I suppose.  I continue to have difficulty bouncing back quickly from big efforts.  This is in part because I do tend to let myself go a bit after a buildup to a goal race.  I took two weeks completely off, which I think is fine, but I also took three or four weeks off my diet, which would probably be fine if I ate like a reasonable person during that time.  But I don't--I just shovel in as much crap as I can.  At that point, trying to ease back into training carrying an extra ten pounds is just prolonging the agony a bit.  Then I have to suffer through my usual three week adjustment period to being back off the carbs, and suddenly, it's almost April.

As I started thinking about the spring season and how it would lead into the summer and fall, I wasn't sure exactly where the focus would be.  I had planned on a return to the Cayuga Trails 50 mile, which I've run four or five times now and is a race I absolutely love.  But family commitments that weekend made a trip to Ithaca impossible.  When a spot opened up in the Rock the Ridge Endurance Challenge, through one of the race sponsors (Health Quest Sports Cardiology, which manages my exercise testing program, at least for now), I was happy to take another crack at my hometown ultra.

I ran the first edition of RTR, in 2013.  The race has grown into the largest annual fundraiser for the Mohonk Preserve, a private, non-profit land trust that maintains over 7000 acres of open space in the Shawangunks.  Over the first five years, the race was a jointly-managed event between a pair of local RDs and the Preserve.  The Preserve decided to take over full responsibility for the race in 2018, and I joined the race committee assisting the new RDs, Jon Stern and Mark Eisenhandler.  We had some growing pains last year, as a bunch of folks who were veterans at race organization but new to the ultra scene tried to wrap their heads around what our stupid sport is actually about.  But for 2019 I felt like the committee did a better job at bridging the divide between "fundraiser" and "ultramarathon," and despite the largest field in the race's history--about 400 starters, plus another 50 or so relay teams--the event went off more or less without a hitch.

Given my sluggish return to training, my goals for the race were somewhat meager.  I had run some OK workouts in the buildup, but consistency had been lacking, and I had only a few longer efforts of 20+ miles behind me.  I was certainly a little undertrained.  One week before the race, I ran a fun tuneup at the Red Wings After Hours 8K, a nighttime trail race in Wappingers Falls, about twenty miles from home.  I had run the inaugural After Hours race last year, taking the lead from the gun and opening up a substantial lead before missing a questionably-marked turn in the dark and adding on nearly two miles out-and-back before I found the course again and battled back to finish eighth.  This time I surrendered the lead shortly before the mile mark but ran a solid race, closing to within 15 seconds of the lead or so with a mile to go and running 40:40 on a dark, hilly course.  I wasn't quite sure how that would translate to a runnable 50-mile effort a week later, especially with my relative lack of longer efforts, but I thought seven hours was a reasonable goal if everything went well.  I resolved to run the first half of the race as easy as possible while keeping the pace under 9:00/mile.  Most of the climbing at RTR takes place in the first 50K, culminating at the highest point on the course, Castle Point, just past the 30-mile mark.  I set a goal of 4:30 for the first 50K, hoping that would give me chance to finish strong over the mostly downhill and flat final 20 miles.  I knew seven hours would be somewhere near the front--despite being one of the largest 50-mile races in the country, RTR is not known for particularly deep fields, as it caters specifically to mid- and rear-pack runners.  But I wasn't going to commit to racing for the win.  Ben Nephew, a three-time winner of the race, would not be racing, but young speedster Etan Levavi, who had come from way behind to upset Ben last year in a sprint finish, was back to defend his title, and I figured he'd be the favorite.  I just wanted to have a good, long effort, get as close to seven hours as I could manage, and we'd see where that landed me.

Passing time in the early stages
📷: Kate Schoonmaker

After a flat opening mile, the race climbs about 900' over the next three miles, and I ran as easily as possible, trailing a couple of relay runners but among the leaders, cresting the hill, just about four miles in 36:05.  This was almost 5 minutes slower than I had been at the same point with Ben in 2013, when I crashed over the last 15 miles and struggled to a 7:29 finish.  It was a bit alarming to be so much slower, but it was very, very early, and I focused on keeping the pace as slow and easy as possible.  Over the next several miles I was passed by a slew of runners, including Etan, who opened up a small but substantial lead.  Don't panic, I repeated, we're not racing for a while yet.  Just make steady progress.  I came through the Spring Farm aid station, at 9.6 miles, in a relaxed 1:25:22, a little less than a minute back, in seventh overall, and began the long slog up to Skytop Tower.  The course climbs over 800 feet in the next 5+ miles, and I continued to focus on a relaxed effort, not worrying about place as I yo-yo'd between third and eighth.  I hit the 15 mile mark, right below the tower, in 2:07, over seven minutes slower than 2013 but feeling much more relaxed, running in fourth place. 

Trapps Bridge
📷: Maryalice Citera

Those of us from second through fifth continued to alternate places through Trapps Bridge at 22 miles, with Etan still about a minute in front.  I was clearly the strongest climber of the bunch, though I was, as usual, surrendering plenty of time on the downhills.  On the flat couple of miles from Trapps Bridge, I started feeling very strong, and allowed the pace to pick up just a little bit, careful to keep the effort in check.  Even that little bit allowed me to roll quickly up on second and third place, and I led our little chase group as we started climbing up to the main aid station at Lyons Road.  As we approached Lyons, Etan started to come back to us, and I reached the aid station timing mat in 3:24:40, 44 seconds behind Etan, who had run the nearly 15-mile split from Spring Farm to Lyons two seconds faster than I had.  I stopped only to fill my bottle and headed straight out, now leading, as Etan grabbed some aid from his drop bag.  He caught up with a minute or so, and after briefly acknowledging each other, I turned on my mp3 player for the first time as we started to climb up to Awosting Falls.

I generally view the next five miles, from 25 miles the top of Castle Point, as the crux of the race.  The course climbs over 1000 feet, much of it exposed to the sun, over that five mile stretch, the majority at a runnable grade.  I knew from the first half of the race that I was the stronger climber and the weaker descender.  My pacing to this point had been ideal--at just about 3:25 for 24.6 miles, I was almost exactly on target for a seven-hour finish.  If I was going to have any chance at the win, I needed a gap at the top of the climb--but I couldn't sacrifice the last twenty miles of the race to get it.  I'd have to walk the fine line of pushing the climb without redlining, and see where it got me.

Pushing a bit, near Castle Point
📷: John Mizel

I kept a steady tempo and effort through the climb, getting some early separation at Awosting Falls and stretching out the lead as we climbed higher.  I caught a glimpse of Etan at one point on a switchback, maybe a mile from the top, and estimated the gap at about thirty seconds.  I crested the hill and took a brief glance back.  Nobody there.  OK, time to run downhill.  Keep it steady and relaxed, but keep a nice tempo, don't let up. 

Back through Minnewaska Lake and down to Lyons Road on the return and no sign of Etan, 37.5 miles in 5:14, still right on pace for seven hours.  A quick stop to refill the bottle, slam a couple cups of Coke, and off again.  Waving to some friends as they made their way up to Lyons on the outbound trip, me now on the return and starting to smell the finish a little bit.  Forty miles in 5:35, hammering that 8:20 pace, trying to keep fueling.  Energy flagging a bit as I pulled into the penultimate aid station at Rhododendron Bridge, 42 miles or so, not moving quite so smoothly now.   Banana, Coke, GU Chomp.  Glance back as I'm leaving the aid station: there's Etan, thirty seconds back.

Well, I thought, that's it.  You gave it a good effort, and you're still feeling OK, but you haven't been able to shake him, and you know how well he can close.  I jogged out of the aid station, trying to recapture the rhythm, as the second-place relay team ran smoothly by.  I really had to pee, but didn't want to stop until Etan passed me, which I figured would be any minute now.

Coming down Lenape, smelling the finish
📷: Tom Weiner

Except, it wasn't.  After about four or five minutes I realized I felt basically fine and he hadn't gone by.  I looked over my shoulder and couldn't see him.  Huh, that's weird.  Might as well start moving again.  The relay guy wasn't that far ahead; I focused on trying to peg the gap and picked up the tempo a little bit.  We reached the bottom of the final short climb up Kleine Kill Carriageway, still no Etan, as I moved back in front of the relay runner.  The climb made my legs burn this time, but this was the last piece.  Switchback at the top of the hill and I could see Etan coming up behind, but I had a good minute at this point.  A minute or more with less than four miles to go.  Run under 8:00 pace and you'll make it really hard for him.  Just make it hard for him.


The relay guy caught back up, which worked out perfectly; it was keeping me mentally alert.  We hammered downhill to Duck Pond as fast as I could go, and I pulled away on the short flat stretch to Lenape Lane.  Two switchbacks here: no Etan.  A mile to go; one final, two-minute climb.  I turned to check over my shoulder, almost seizing up the entire left side of my body.  Shit, don't do that again.  But still: no Etan.  I was going to make it.

Homestretch
📷: Renee Zernitsky

In the end, I just missed out on the seven-hour mark (by 78 seconds) but held on for a 94-second victory margin.  The entire gap came from the climb from Lyons to Castle Point, which I ran about two minutes faster than Etan.  Our splits from Lyons to the finish were separated by a single second. 

Not my first ultra win, but my most gratifying for sure.  I came in fairly fit but a bit undertrained, not peaked, and looking mostly for a training stimulus.  I came away with a big PR and a win that means a lot to the burgeoning local ultrarunning community.  I haven't run scared like that for quite some time, particularly trying to hold off someone as talented and tenacious as Etan, and I'm grateful that he was there to push me and that I was, at least on this day, equal to the challenge.  And I was careful afterwards not to overindulge too much in my customary post-race fashion.  If I'm training through, I've got to act like it!  I've been rewarded by a relatively short (for me) recovery; after a week of feeling pretty flat and sluggish, I'm rounding back into form and hoping to start workouts again this week.



Gear
Salomon Sense Ride 2 and Agile shirt
Injinji no-show socks
Patagonia Stride Pro shorts
Orange Mud Single Barrel Hydraquiver and trucker cap

RTR Race Report: Almost a Good Day



One of the nice things about racing ultras is that there are always lessons to be learned. The races are so long, so many things can happen, and whether you have a good day, or a bad day, or more likely, a combination of the two, you're sure to come away with one or two nuggets that will help for the next time.
The Rock the Ridge 50 mile last weekend was no exception.  This race was not in my plans at the beginning of the year, but ultimately the allure of running a 50 miler on my home trails was too tempting, and I bailed on the Ice Age 50K for a chance to race the beautiful carriage roads of the Shawangunk Mountains.  As with any inaugural event, you're never quite sure what to expect, but race director Todd Jennings did an excellent job partnering with the Mohonk Preserve to put together a nice, smoothly-run race.

I knew going in that I'd be running for second place, with my good friend Ben Nephew, one of the country's top trail runners, slated to compete.  Ben had a good week, as just a few days before RTR he was named to the US team that will compete at the IAU Trail World Championships in Wales in July.  (He'll join a stacked team, with Brian Rusiecki, Jason Bryant, Dave James, Justin Ricks, and Dave Riddle, that should be one of the favorites for team gold.)  Ben and I spoke a few days before the race and made a plan to run together for the first half, hoping to average 7:45 pace or so on the flat segments, maybe a little slower on the climbs.  I knew this would be an easy pace for Ben, but figured it would help me to settle into a not-too-slow tempo in shooting for my goal of 6:40 (8:00/mile pace).  The forecast was promising: cool at the start, clear, with expected highs in the low 60s.
 

Feeling good, at the start.

(Photo: rockhillhayes)

After the opening jaunt across the fields from the Testimonial Gatehouse, we started the climb up Lenape Lane, a 3.5-mile dirt road that climbs about 1000' at a steady 4% or so.  This is one of my staple training stretches, particularly in the winter, when the trails are covered in snow and we basically run up and down Lenape until the thaw.  I know every step of the climb and was happy to settle into a nice, steady tempo with Ben as we chatted about recent races and his prospects for worlds.  About a mile from the top, we gave up the lead to eventual second-place finisher Dylan Armajani, who pushed through the top of the climb with about a 5-10 second gap on us.  We crested the hill, and the 4-mile mark, at just over 31:00, right on 7:45 pace, but for the uphill!  I felt fine, but was wary of going any quicker this early.  I could tell that Ben was itching to chase after Dylan, though, and let him go just past the top, as we entered the Mohonk golf course.

And that was basically the last I saw of either of them.  I quickly eased off the gas, passing 5 miles in 38:10, and fell into a back-and-forth battle with CPTC's Jeff Holy, which we would continue most of the day, as I easily put time into him on the long climbs and gave it right back on the downhills.  I settled into a nice solo rhythm, running right on 7:50-8:00 pace, passing 15 miles at Smiley Tower in 1:59:59, and 20 miles, on Overcliff, in 2:38.  By the time I reached the second aid station, Lyons Road, just shy of 24 miles, I was starting to feel the heat of the day, but was still feeling pretty strong.

Not me, but pretty sweet.
(Photo: rockhillhayes)

The next six miles were a slog, gaining over 1000', including the brutal 3/4-mile, 400' climb from Awosting Falls to Lake Minnewaska.  I struggled badly, falling off to about 10-minute pace on the exposed section as the heat and elevation started to sap my strength, but rallied back to 8:30 pace coming back down and was able to come through Lyons Road on the return trip, 38 miles in, at 5:15. I knew 6:40 was out of reach, but with the last 12 miles being almost exclusively flat and downhill, thought I had a pretty good chance at breaking seven hours.

The next seven miles ranked among the worst of my life.  No real pain--my quads, which were my main concern other than my balky hamstring, held up really well.  Just overwhelming fatigue.  I tried pushing the nutrition, but to no avail, and by 42 miles was alternating walking and running, as relay runners streamed past in a quick procession.  It took my 91 minutes to get from Lyons Road to the 45 mile mark on Forest Drive--13:00 pace for seven miles.

And then, suddenly, as I turned downhill towards the finish, my legs came back. (Actually, they started coming back about a mile or two before that, when I was able to get back into a slow but steady rhythm of probably 9:00 pace along the flat section of Oakwood Drive.)  I certainly wasn't fast on the downhills, but the quads felt OK, and I was able to cover the last 5.5 miles in 41 minutes--close to my original 7:45 pace, and sneaking in just under 7:30, for a fourth-place finish and a two-minute PR.

I'm taking two main lessons away from this race.  One has to do with nutrition.  I learn more and more about my in-race fueling with every ultra I do, and I'm certainly getting closer.  I basically used GU and S! caps the whole way, drinking Gatorade, Coke, and a little bit of Nuun.  For the most part, it worked pretty well.  My salt intake is definitely my most limiting factor.  I carried 21 S! caps for the race, joking beforehand with Ben that if I needed more than that, something had gone horribly wrong.  Well, I used every one of them and probably would have been happy with 5 or 10 more.  Three capsules an hour should be plenty, but I think my personal requirements may be a little higher, particularly on a warm day where temperatures got up into the low-to-mid 70s. Every time I was able to pop a couple of tablets, though, I felt better almost immediately, so future efforts will focus on more regular salt consumption, and maybe switching to a higher-salt drink, such as Perpetuum, rather than Gatorade.

The other lesson is, I'm just not in shape for a full 50-mile effort right now, and I can't fake my way through it either.  I have an excellent fitness level for 50K and feel like I could run a really good one (which bodes well for GCI in July), and I can stretch that fitness out to 35-40 miles at sub-maximal effort.  But I don't have the mileage, particularly the long runs, to hold up hammering a full 50 miles just yet.  So, in the four weeks I have left before Cayuga Trails, I'm focusing on getting three solid weeks of mileage with at least two back-to-back long runs in there.  If I can average 90 miles/week with a couple of real long ones, I'm hoping to be ready to mix it up in Ithaca.  With the field they're expecting, I'll be lucky to sneak into the top-20, but it should be a ton of fun.

Thanks again to the Bicycle Depot for sponsoring me by covering my fundraising commitment to support the Preserve, allowing me to run.  And thanks to Todd, Ken, Norman, and everyone at the Preserve for putting on a very nice event.  For a $150 entry fee, I think we could have expected more than three full aid stations, but in all other aspects, you guys did a hell of a job.

Ridge Rockin' with the Depot

Last month I posted about Rock the Ridge, a new 50-mile race/hike that's being held for the first time this year to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the Mohonk Preserve here in New Paltz.  I didn't say anything about running the race at that time. I've been planning since last fall on running the Ice Age 50K in Madison this month, a race I've wanted to do for quite some time, and with RTR falling just one week before Ice Age, it didn't seem doable for me.  Also, though I support the Preserve and their fundraising efforts, I wasn't too keen on going around, hat in hand, in order to raise the $250 in pledges necessary to compete.  But as the race approached I got more and more enamored of the idea of running an ultra right in my own backyard, on the trails I train on every day.  I don't know exactly what happened, but all of a sudden one day I decided I HAD to run RTR.  So I asked my friends Geoff and Mike, the co-owners of the Bicycle Depot, if the shop would be interested in sponsoring me for the race, and they graciously agreed.  So, my first sponsorship for 2013: the Bicycle Depot!

The Depot is one of several excellent bike shops in our area, and in my opinion is the best one.  They offer a wide range of road and mountain bikes, accessories, and apparel.  They have a full-service shop for assembly, repair, tune-ups, you name it.  They have a full fleet of rental bikes that they re-stock every year, so they remain in great condition.  And, they are just about the friendliest group of bike mechanics and business owners you could ever imagine.

Mike and Geoff are strong supporters of the local racing scene as well as the local community in general.  In addition to being one of the main sponsors of the Spring Dual Against Cystic Fibrosis, they are longtime supporters of the ridge, the Preserve, and the Mountain House.  They've donated brand new bikes as raffle prizes for local events like "No Petrol Day" and the New Paltz Regatta, and they've formed partnerships with other excellent local businesses like Rock and Snow (another huge ally of the Preserve and one of the main sponsors of RTR) and the Mudd Puddle Cafe to help support our unique community.  I'm proud to represent the Bicycle Depot and hope that I can put in a good showing this weekend.  In terms of the race, Ben Nephew is the overwhelming favorite, but hopefully he'll take it easy on me and we can run together for awhile, at which point, I don't know, maybe he'll get eaten by a wildebeest or something.