California Running

Race report on the Nanny Goat’s 24 Hr Trail Race/Relay/ +100 Mile, May 26-27, 2012.

I know, I know….any reference to the song “California Dreaming” immediately identifies me as an old guy…..hell, it came out in 1965.  (If you haven’t heard the song, it is available here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dN3GbF9Bx6E ).  But what the heck?  Nanny Goat is part of the “Old Goat Trail Races”, so I’m right at home there.

The event is held on a working horse ranch in Riverside, CA.  Of course, without knowing this a few pictures would tell you it is in the Golden State:

Traffic, traffic as far as the eye can see.

A grove of orange trees around the property.

A team of dudes dressed in pink from head to toe.

The event is essentially a 24-hour fixed time event, with an added twist: a 28-hour cutoff.  The goal of a fixed time event is to cover as many miles as possible in a given period, in this case 24 hours (there is a 12-hour option as well).  At Nanny Goat, anyone with 86 miles at the 24 hour mark can continue towards 100, with a firm cutoff of 28 hours. The event is a benefit for the Wounded Warrior project and is held on Memorial Day weekend.

I’ve participated in 24 hour events twice before, both at Across the Years in Phoenix, and just love the format.  The closed course takes many of the variables out of ultra running–no getting lost, no bad footing, no long distances between aid stations.  Weather could be a factor, but given the Southern California location heat was the most likely foe.  My conditioning was suspect–I’d been battling a severe case of plantar faciitis for months, although the symptoms had largely diminished in the last 45 days.  My goal for Nanny Goat was 100 miles, which I’d hit at the ATY events each year.  However, my conditioning was iffy, and my pace was slow even by my standards.

Entering Nanny Goat was a bit of a last minute decision.  I had originally been entered in the 24-hour event in Cleveland the weekend of May 5, but stuff got in the way and that trip sidelined.  I entered Nanny Goat little more than a week before the event, and snagged one of the last spots in the 200 person field.  Travel was easy, with a nonstop to LAX on Friday, arriving about noon.  California traffic was, well, California traffic, so the hour drive was a two hour (plus) drive.  But I made it to my hotel in Corona, CA by mid afternoon, in time for food and a full night’s rest.

As noted earlier, the course runs around the perimeter of a working horse ranch.  As such, there is a grassy stretch, a long section on packed dirt, an out-and-back section on asphalt and finally a trip through the barn where the aid station and timing mat are located.  A one mile loop.  Just repeat it 100 times, that’s all.

Grassy stretch, outbound.

Dirt straightaway (picture taken in the early morning, pre-race).

Out and back stretch, fully exposed and on asphalt.

Horse barn serving as runner stalls, transition area and timing station.

The race.  On a one-mile loop course, there’s not a helluva lot to report in terms of changing scenery, terrain, equipment, etc.  As noted, just keep moving forward, work out a food / hydration plan, determine an appropriate pace and repeat.  Again and again.  My plan in these longer events hasn’t changed much.  I walk the first mile (a brisk 13:45 pace, I might add), then split running / walking in a roughly 50-50 ratio.  Typically, my goal is a 12-minute mile which would reach 50 miles in 10 hours, then hang on with whatever I can for the last 50.  Not a very sophisticated strategy, and I generally lose some time to fueling and other stops.  Most runners, of course, target much more than 50% running, especially in the early going.  Some run all of the time, with maybe a short walking break every half-hour.  But, what the hell, I’m elderly and just do what I can.   My conservative pace worked pretty well for a while–through 25 miles I was feeling pretty good, and two-plus minutes ahead of goal time at just under five hours.

What’s the old saying?  If you’re feeling good in an ultra, don’t worry–that will change.  Predictably, my early pace began to deteriorate.  The catalysts?  Warming temperatures and a balky stomach, along with, of course, the mounting miles.  The early temperatures were ideal, in the 60s with a cloud cover.  As the afternoon wore on, the sun came out and temperatures increased, although they remained in the 70s.  I filled my bandana with ice and kept reasonably cool.  I’d been eating pretty much anything I wanted in the early going, including a cheeseburger.  With the passage of time, not much looked good, although watermelon and strawberries were welcome additions to the aid station and went down well.

The aid station, serving delicacies ranging from cheeseburgers to fruit to vegetarian chili.

By the 50-mile mark, my goal pace had deteriorated quite a bit–I hit the midway point in 10:25.  This means my pace for the second 25 miles had dropped by almost a full minute, from 12 minutes per mile to 13.  This was very discouraging.  My goal was 100 miles in 24 hours, which means an average of about 14:20 per mile.  If I can hit 12 minutes per mile for the first 50, this gives me 16 minutes per mile for the last 50 (all rounded for easy, late night mental gymnastics).  The loss of 25 minutes on the first 50 took away some cushion, and the night hours can be unpredictable.  But, there was nothing to do except keep moving forward.

The late night hours of an ultra, particularly on a loop course, can be sort of….surreal.  Lots of people moving at varying paces, headlamps and flashlights bobbing along.  Some barely moving, some relentlessly lapping plodders like myself (many of them were relay runners, relatively fresh).  I kept moving, maintaining a run / walk mix with an occasional lap of all walking.  When I could get some nutrition down, my energy levels picked up nicely for five miles or so before I would begin to tire.  Vegetarian chili worked well for awhile, until that began to look….unappealing.  Three No-Doz tablets strategically timed during the dark hours kept me from falling asleep upright.  A high point of the night is when I break out my iPod Shuffle.  I figure it has an eight-hour battery life, so I usually get it out around the 70 mile mark.  This adds a welcome diversion for my tired mind.

The low point of the night was probably mile 90.  Soup was sounding appealing, so I asked about it at the aid station.  No soup, but they could add some hot water to instant ramen noodles.  The nice young lady in the aid station mixed them up, then held them for me to pick up the next lap, which I did.  I’ve never found this dish very tasty, but managed to choke some down noodles while taking a break in the aid station.  Not wanting to waste time, I took the noodle cup and figured I could walk and eat.  I made it about 100 yards outside the aid station when….well, let’s just say the noodles didn’t stay down.  On the next lap, of course, the nice young aid station worker told me how much better I looked.  I couldn’t believe I still had all those miles yet to go.

Overall, my pace held up OK and I didn’t melt down too badly in the late night / early morning hours.  At each of these events I’m reminded just how hard it is to cover 100 miles on foot.  Energy levels down, sleep-deprived, everything kind of hurts.  I finished in in 22:25 at about 6:30 AM.  The last 50 miles took exactly 12 hours, or about a 14 minute pace.  The cushion built up in the first 50 miles held up, and I beat the 24-hour bogey by an hour and a half.  I opted not to go on for the full 24 hours.

I sorta botched this picture. This is the results screen, updated every lap. Properly centered, this would show my finishing time of 22:25.

Other sights along the course:

Full time residents of the ranch in the early morning light.

A runner’s crew member stationed on the course. This little guy was very well behaved.

A lone Marine carried the American flag for 24 hours.

Final notes.  A couple of things overheard from runners:

Young woman, speaking to her iPhone:  “Siri, finish this race for me.”

Male runner, speaking to his wife / significant other crewing for him:  “Honey, just kick me in the nuts so I can forget all my other pains.”

Lastly, there was the sign on the fence around the horse area:  “A woman needs two animals:  the horse of her dreams and a jackass to pay for it!”