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Run on the Sly 2003 - Race Reports
David Wright:
Run on
the Sly 50M
Aug 31, 2003
Summary: A well-organized event with outstanding volunteers. The new course is, IMO, about an hour slower than the old one, so look elsewhere for an easy Western States qualifier!
Running the final miles of Run on the Sly, with the clock ticking down it's last few minutes towards the 12:45 cutoff, I realized that I could finally explain why I run ultras. Even though I enjoy telling non-running co-workers that anyone can train their body to run 50 miles, the truth is that running will always be hard for me. With no natural ability, and ageing equipment, it's never easy. I think about the quote that, "We are not strengthened by winning easy battles, but by losing hard ones." But winning hard struggles is OK, too.
A very handy feature of ROTS is the mile markers starting at 3 miles to go. I had less than an hour to go the 3.8 rolling downhill miles from the final aid station. I'd had my usual fade at mile 35, and had been stumbling along at what was probably no better than a 20 mpm pace.
But now it was time to decide - did I want to finish?
I ran.
It was twelve minutes to the 3 mile mark. Another 14 minutes to the 2 mile mark.(Did I tell you I was slow?) I started to relax, but still ran more than I wanted to. Finally I'm on the final pavement section. My watch says 12:40, but I think it's a few minutes off. I round the final turn. Chris is sitting by the side of the road, waiting for me. He jumps up and shouts, "Dad! Hurry up! You have only 7 minutes left!" Relief floods through me; I know I'm only 2 minutes away from the finish.
I cross the finish line, and how sweet it is! What other event is there where the last finisher receives applause and cries of encouragment? Did the first place finisher, some 4 hours earlier, experience the same intense rush of satisfaction? I doubt it. But comparisons don't matter. Speed doesn't matter. Perserverance matters. Pushing through the bad patch at 35 miles matters. The force of will matters.
Earlier, I was circling the Jenkinson Lake, thinking about the email from Barry Fisher, the Race Director, "This new course is significantly easier than the old one. Great for a 50 mile PR."
Right.
But aside from that little misunderstanding, Run on the Sly is a great event, and I've run it four times. Bob and Margie Read had done a wonderful job of creating a sense of ultra community at ROTS, with the group campsite and plenty of post-race food, and Barry and Lucinda have made it even better.
I particularly liked the treatment I got from the aid station volunteers. They catered to my needs, then kicked me out. Sitting around was not allowed. And they took requests! At Evergreen aid station they told me they were out of ice, then asked me what I wanted.
"Ice."
"We're out, but we'll try to get some more."
It's a short out-and-back section; I'm back after 15 minutes.
"Where's my ice?"
And they had 5 more bags of ice!
Even though they were taking down
the finish line by the time I finally got there, they still had food waiting
for us last few runners, and an eye-opening cold shower. And I won a six-pack
of "Slow Elk" beer given to the runner who enjoyed the course the
longest. Thanks, Barry.
Nic Webber:
Hi all--
I had written this yesterday for about an hour and was ready to send it when
my daughter turned the computer off. So any time you see something that doesn't
make you laugh, well, it would have. Run on the Sly 2003 was a success in that
I actually finished and I might not even have any permanent damage. Of course,
it was another learning experience, as are apparently all ultras.
Overall: The weather was nice until about 5 hours into it when it started to get hot; apparently after I had left there was a big thunderstorm with hail on the 50 mile runners and Barry's computer. From what I hear the course as more difficult than years past, which proves that RD Barry Fisher was lying (or maybe just crazy :>)) as he told me it was equivalent to Skyline (where the first 90 finishers came in under 6 hours). I would have come in the top 20 if I had run the same time. But, the reasons I like this race (my favourite) were the same-- great aid stations, great volunteers, very pretty area and a race director who can take my jokes. :>) There was a really nice view down into the central valley around the 19th mile as we crested over a ridge. My goal was to hit the main aid station at 10.7 and 20.3 miles at around 2 and 4 hours, and finish in 6 or 6:30. I drank consistently 25-30 oz/hour and took in about 200-250 cal/hour and 400 mg Na/hour-- amounts that appear to work out okay for me.
We started out at 6:15 am to avoid the heat and apparently the daylight for as long as possible, and ran the first 2 hours in shady woods and along a west facing slope along the lake. We almost needed lights, but for the lightening storm that was happening in the distance. As in years past we started by climbing up a steep hill for 1/2 mile then rolling hills for 3 miles, then another steep 1/2 mile uphill. Kind of a rough way to start (and finish) for us wimps. Then we went around the lake in the area that killed me in the past, short steep rolling hills of between 6 and 20 feet high like a washboard. I went out too fast, running with two ultra rookies-- a guy named Larry who could walk hills faster than most people could run and a woman named Nikki who is a age group champion 10K runner. This should have tipped me off that I was going too fast, plus the fact that I was at 84% of my max HR the first 2 hours. I didn't feel too good until about an hour into it, which is my typical warm up time anyway, but my knees didn't hurt until 2 hours in and the spot that I fell on didn't hurt at all-- attributed to my acupuncture treatments, which consisted of moxabustion last week and did the trick.
We hit the third aid station at just under 2 hours, a little fast especially for the terrain. We crossed the road here and went into the "meadow" loop, which I was hoping would be nice and flat, you know, like a meadow. It was more up and down in forests, with about 200m total through vaguely overgrown meadow type plants. I started to get some gas problems in here, at about 2:30-- not gas coming out (as it would then not be a problem), but gas filled upper intestines which I could feel and, weirdly, hear bouncing around in there. It didn't hurt yet, but I could tell it was going to. I think it made my gait weird too and maybe that is why my legs got to hurting so much.... It progressed into a fairly urgent need to have diarrhea and an even weirder duck type gait. Only 18 more miles to the porta-potties. [Weird gas thing-- the only thing I did differently the day before was eat a McDonald's #2 value meal (2 cheeseburgers) instead of my customary #3 (quarter pounder with cheese)-- last time I'll do that, I'll tell you. And I did not consume any garage floor cleaner in any form.]
At 3:00 we hit the approximately halfway aid station which did not have a porta potty but did have Guiness beer. I (wisely, I think) skipped the beer. I lost Larry somewhere behind me at the aid, and Nikki took off on me with her 10K form. I thought I'd maybe see her later on the trail this being her first 50K but she came in 26th place just over 6 hours. So at about 3:30 the urge to become jet-propelled became more than I could bear so I started looking for a semi-private stump or log or something. I located a primo large tree, behind which I ducked, dug a hole and fed the dung beetles. It's a good thing that since that fiasco a couple years ago I always carry toilet paper. Unfortunately, the tree was near a bend in the trail so the 8 runners who passed me during this time could see me both coming and going, as it were. Oh well, nobody really cares after running that long. I hope. I apologize if you are one of the unfortunate people who saw me.
After I stood up (I'm sure you don't care about my split time, but it was faster than in training), my leg muscles started to hurt. A lot. All of them, including small feet muscles, hip flexors and anterior tibials. Not cramping but just really sore, like the way they get after a fast race where all you want to do is stop moving. They didn't feel better until, well, today, but they did get worse later on. For the next hour, I could jog/stagger the flats and slight downhill grades, but walked any uphill (and there was a lot) and steeper downhills. For all that, I managed to hit the 20.3 mile aid station in 3:57, still on pace but I wasn't entertaining any hopes of making it in 6 hours, but maybe 6:30 was within reach.
But then the uphill started. It took me 1:15 to get about 4 miles uphill to the next aid station-- at 25 miles I was 5:13. Which still wasn't too bad, considering, but I knew what was coming. The infamous "Bill's Hill," which the sign also said "don't blame Margie." Don't worry, we don't, Margie. Barry, on the other hand, we blame. :>) This is the hill that killed me the last two years and this year was no different. It took me 47 minutes to slog up the next 2.4 miles to the last aid station, wanting to stop with every step but unable to. I started getting really sleepy in here and stumbling a little-- I begin to see now how some people can fall asleep on the trail and walk into trees.
I hit the 4 miles left aid station at exactly 6 hours, and walked for a bit with a guy who had bailed on the 50 miler with a bad back. Seemed like a decent sort especially after 6 hours. There was another runner there reclining comfortably in a lounge chair drinking a beer, looking pretty happy. He passed me about 10 minutes later jauntily bouncing down the trail and I passed him back 15 minutes after that walking slowly-- he said he twisted his knee. I told him it's a good thing he has the beer in him, otherwise it would really hurt.
Anyway, I told the back guy that I could still make 7 hours because anyone can walk 15 minute miles, right? I jogged and speedwalked off down the hill and just about killed myself making it to the 3 miles left marker, in, yes, 15 minutes. So I gave up the 7 hour idea because I wouldn't be able to do that for 3 more miles, and just walked. I hit the 2 miles left marker, though, in 15 more minutes, so I started thinking, "well, maybe." I decided that if I hit (walking) the 1 mile left marker at 6:47 or earlier I'd run the rest and try to make it. A big guy passed me in here (who I ran with last year for awhile) and started walking, so I caught up and started talking-- I told him we might be able to make 7 and he agreed-- we hit 1 mile left at 6:46:30. He looked like he might be in my age group (he wasn't), so I left him and jogged/walked (okay, staggered) down the hill. I hit the top of the dirt road (0.4 miles left) at like 6:53 or so and knew I had it unless I fell or something. Tried really hard not to fall and stumbled the rest of the way-- performed my customary all out sprint at the end (growling and moaning) to finish in 6:57 (48th of 98, my best place finish yet in an ultra). Afterwards, Lauren (my wife) said it looked like I was hurting because I didn't sprint at the end, so I told her that was a sprint. She would have hurt my feelings if I had had any left at that point. The big guy made it in 6:58:45 or so-- nice job if you're out there. (I'm starting to think I should be asking people's names more often so these stories run together better like my sentences.)
I went and got my finisher's buckle (for which I had to buy a belt yesterday), and found I had won a door prize of a $25 gift certificate for a local massage place. Pretty cool. I then sat down for awhile since I was unable to stand and Lauren brought me a burger of which I ate half-- I'm never hungry after a race. Then I took the best ice-cold shower I have ever had and we took off. Unfortunately, Lauren figured out that when we go down to Arizona for the Javelina Jundred, she will have to drive back home probably the entire way. She has not clued into the fact (yet) that I will be whining the entire way, or that she might have to also drive me to work for the next week. :>)
There you have it in a nutshell,
Nik
Pat Wellington:
The 10th Anniversary of the Run On The Sly was a huge success and a great way to spend Labor Day weekend. Race Directors Barry and Lucinda Fisher did an incredible job orchestrating the 4 ROTS runs simultaneously (50 Mile/50K/20 Mile/8 Mile) which take place at Sly Park located in the Sierra Nevada foothills/El Dorado County/lovely Pollock Pines, California and serves as a benefit for El Dorado Search & Rescue Teams.
We celebrated the 10th Anniversary with a new course covering more single track trails and narrow fire roads instead of the former wide logging roads. The new course also had us running around Lake Jenkinson earlier in the run, which makes for a much more fun/enjoyable course. Let’s keep the new course!
Without a doubt, Run On The Sly has the most outstanding, fully-stocked aid stations with the most enthusiastic helpful volunteers I’ve seen in 10 years of running ultras. After you stuff yourself at the aid stations, you can still look forward to an all-you-can-eat picnic at the finish, as well as music and complete his/hers shower areas set up. No detail is left to chance. They even put flashlights in all the port-a-potties!
Run On The Sly has the unique quality of treating all runners like winners thanks to the philosophy of race founders Margie and Bob Read and carried on by Barry and Lucinda. Back-of-the-packers can be assured the aid stations/finish line won’t run out of food before they get there thanks to the meticulous planning of the race directors.
This year we had some interesting weather conditions. We had some thunder and lightning when we started at 6:15 am, but rain held off until around 3:30 pm or so when all of a sudden a thunderstorm hit complete with giant hail. We dashed to the van and headed back to the StageCoach Hotel (located on the historic Pony Express Trail), which is only 5 minutes from Sly Park. As we got to the highway and looked up, we say blue sky and sun just ahead with a big dividing line of black thunderclouds on one side and blue sky on the other. The rain clouds were only over Sly Park! It hadn’t even rained at the StageCoach Hotel!
Mark you calendars for Run On The Sly 2004!
Pat Wellington aka TrailPatty
in San Francisco
Steve Patt:
1) When the first and last four miles
are uphill and downhill (the same hill), respectively, and your time for the
first four is less than the time for the last four.
2) When you positive split the second half of the race by 25% over the first
half.
3) When your "Get up and go" gets up and goes, without you.
Yes, it was that kind of day yesterday at the Run on the Sly, whose acryonym ROTS definitely doesn't describe the race course or the organization, but fits my race to a T.
A brief recap of what led up to this - through most of June and July, I had a bad bout of sciatica which cut my running to a minimum. Finally feeling better, I managed four weeks (!) of 35 mpw from the end of July through August, before starting a taper. During that period I managed one pretty decent 21-miler and one 18-miler where I melted down in the last few miles. Not really auspicious. At the beginning of last week, I ran into Ian at the end of a Rancho run and mentioned my continuing dilemma as to whether or not to run a 50K this weekend. His advice, of course, was no. Well, that did it. I was committed. :-)
Well, guess what? On that kind of training you can manage a good 20-mile race. And that's what I did. Unfortunately, I entered the 50K.
As Jim has already mentioned, the first four miles of the race are a pretty steady uphill. It's not "Vista Pt. at Rancho" uphill, but significantly uphill for sure. So when I arrived there at around the 42-minute mark, that was NOT a good thing for someone who was expecting to average 5 mph (12 mpm) for the race. But I hadn't pushed, or anything, and who knows, maybe the mileage is really short. You have to be careful psyching yourself out with this kind of thing. A 2-mile descent follows down to Jenkinson Lake. 6.4M in 1:06 (10:24 pace) but still I don't feel like I'm pressing in any way.
After circling the Eastern shore of the lake on a fairly typical rolling single-track close to the lake (10.7M in 1:54, 10:39 pace) we cross a road and head to something called "Fleming Meadows." Now, I had no familiarity with this course at all, so I figured Fleming Meadows for meadows. What was I thinking? It was more like Fleming Mountain, which we proceded to run up, down, and across for the next 8 miles. Still, no problem, and I hit the 15M mark at 2:44, 10:56 pace, slowing down but with a fair bit of uphill), and then the 20.2M mark at 3:42 (11:01 pace). So far so good. And that's about it.
Coming back around the western shore of the lake, I discovered that this section of the route is much farther from the lake, and much hillier, then the eastern shore. The next aid station, at 25M, is the turnaround for runners doing the 50M, so I begin to see a few people heading back. It's a mark of the state of my race at this point that I finally begin to ask a person going by me “how much further?” which is NOT a good sign. I also discover how poor people are at estimating distances. One guy said he had left the aid station about 20 minutes ago (remember, this is one of the leaders) and another one told me it was about 1/2 mile. Both were off by a factor of two (luckily for me!) because sooner than I had been led to believe, there was the 25-mile mark. It had taken me 1:08 to cover that 4.8 mile stretch, a 14:13 pace.
Sadly, it gets worse, because the next 2.4M are all uphill. On the outbound stretch, I was full of great ideas of saving myself and pouring it on up this hill, passing all sorts of people on my way to a brilliant finish. Well, it sounded good before the race. 2.4M in 38:48 for a 16:10 pace. Grim death pretty much describes it.
But it gets even worse! The last four miles are downhill, and even going up the previous 2.4M I was hopeful to salvage SOMETHING from the race at this point. A sub-6 finish, which had seemed like a piece of cake halfway through the race, was certainly out of the question, but at least if I could finish strong I'd feel better about my race. Well, if I could have I would have, but I didn't. 4 miles DOWNhill in 49:59, 12:30 pace for just that stretch, and a good 8 minutes longer than it took me going UPhill. And it wasn't a case of trashed quads, just trashed mind and body. I just plain lost it. Actually it was even worse than it sounds, because the LAST mile is so steeply downhill you can't help running. The others were done at more like 13-14 minute pace, downhill. 6:19:43 at the finish, actually not far from the 6:15 I had predicted to Debi before the start of the race, but one HECK of a lot slower than I thought I would be doing halfway through the race.
A little bit of that was altitude (race is at 4000'), a little bit heat, a little bit course unfamiliarity (not realizing the second half of the course was hillier than the first), I think a little was poor nutrition (I wasn't drinking as much coke as I normally do, which contributed to me "losing it" mentally, and also I don't think I was eating enough, which helped me lose it physically), but mostly it was just plain under training. There's just no substitute for LOTS of long runs to prepare for an ultra, and, despite having done a 100K at early May, I just didn't have enough in the legs to properly prepare for yesterday's race.
But it was worth a shot, and I had fun, and I finished standing up. And now I'm a bit better trained for whatever's next, and plus I had a great time (well, at least for four hours) seeing more of Northern California's beautiful trails on a beautiful day. And I got through the race without the slightest pain, which was definitely a worry, so there's that too. Hey, I can count my blessings as good as the next guy. And I do.
Steve "Go and blow" Patt