Race Report: Jemez Mountain Trail Runs 50M

http://www.highaltitudeathletics.org/JemezMt.htm

From overheard conversations and the pre-race briefing, my understanding of
the history of JMTR is that an earlier Bandelier ultramarathon in the Los
Alamos area was cancelled due to land access conflicts, and at the
instigation of an old ultrarunner Aaron G. (I'm pretty sure this is the same
guy I saw at the Big Tesuque and Pajarito trailruns last year, finishing
last but proudly sporting a Leadville100 shirt) a new event was planned.

The course designer spoke at the briefing, and mentioned the over 200
volunteers involved, one of them clearing 100 downed trees single-handedly.
Glancing at the website, LA trail system volunteering is a massive
undertaking, with 1000 trees cleared and 30k seedlings planted since the
forest fire in the mountains around the town some years ago.

The weather was unbelievably perfect, around 40F, warming to 75F, and
walking to the briefing Friday I kicked myself for not bringing my bicycle
to ride to the start, which I make a point of for local runs. There was
some minor snowfall near Caballo peak Friday night that made for a slushy
first major ascent, but we enjoyed lots of forest shade, light cool breezes
and brief, absolutely delightful drizzles from swift-moving clouds for most
of the course; very different from the Valles Caldera marathon experience
last July -- hot, dry, no shade, I think they need a course re-design on
that one, or at least start it pre-dawn :)

I did make more effort than usual to prepare for the event, my first 50M,
being very afraid of the prospect of 20M of late-race cramping and
stumbling, so I ran a full marathon (Big Sur) 3 weeks before, along with a
few ascents up segments of the La Luz, a lot of leglift exercises from a
hanging bar to strengthen my abs and hip abductors, biking, and in a first
for me, a sports massage the week previous, an r.r recommendation. I left
refreshed, but unsure that it had addressed the hamstring tightness that has
dogged me for some time. My impression from the lady was that it was pretty
much on me to stretch more, and no doubt longer more frequent massages would
help. She also stressed repeatedly to drink a lot of plain water every day:
"1/2oz per pound every day, minimum", or 3liters/day for me. I saw no
evidence that she was knowledgeable at all about nutrition, especially
sports nutrition however, so take that with a grain.

Equipment-wise (starting at the feet), my solution to the
Shoe-heel-hitting-the-opposite-anklebone problem was to add iron-on velcro
strips (just the fuzzy side) to the inside surface of my spandex dirtygirl
gaiters covering the bone protrusion area. This worked well; my ankles took
many hits from the opposite heels during the race, but the sharp spur-like
pains and stigmata are gone. I eliminated black toenail issues some time
ago by carefully trimming and filing the nails pre-race, and spent a good
1/2 hour this time on it. My natural shoe size being slightly longer than
13US, a 14 too large, and 13.5 mostly non-existent, this has always been
very annoying, but no sign of it this time, even with the many steep
descents; tieing laces only after ensuring the footheel is all the way to
the rear helps also . Socks: Injin hobbit sox, very happy with them.
Discovered the wonders of Bodyglide for the first time, the only spots I had
blisters were the inside heels just above the heelpad, probably from the
flexion of the NB857 insoles, they do squeak when I walk. Shoe design has
improved exponentially in decreasing blister occurrence, but I think I've
identified an area that needs tweaking on this shoe :)

So that's the feet. Light nylon NF hiking shorts over REI boxers. Real
racing shorts with some sort of pocket-skirt would be more appropriate, but
these shorts have big pockets and you can look like a fairly normal person
wearing them, even with biking underwear beneath, sartorial inertia I guess.
Longsleeve coolmax top, sungloves, sunhat, shades, light sunscreen on the
lowerjaw/neck/back-of-legs. Camelbak holding Clip2 packets, 2nd 32oz
waterbottle, headlight. I did study the coursemap, and attempted to
calculate how many Clip2 packets to carry, but this plan more or less
collapsed later in the race and I just ended up using the Succeed/Gatorade
at the aid stations. The waterbottles were clumsy, 26oz UltimateDirection
would have been a better choice, or a newer model easy-to-fill camelbak.
Photos here
http://web.mac.com/jamesrickman/James_Rickman_Photography/James_Rickman_Photography_Albums/Pages/Jemez_Mountain_Trail_Run_2008_Proofs.html
I'm the bib81 shot.

Exactly how much I drank is unclear, but it was quite a bit. 32oz Clip2
before, along with their Pre-race vitamin packet, and for the first half I
did attempt to empty a 32oz bottle per half-hour, but with cool weather
eventually I settled into stopping drinking when I felt stomach sloshing.
SCap every 1/2hour. I had no gastric issues whatsoever, and gained 1 or 2
pounds from start to finish, though undoubtedly the weight gain occurred
late in the race when I was mostly walking. Urinated several times, bright
yellow, not dark but yellow. I wondered if the various snakeoil
anti-oxidant chews and capsules and their large vitaminC content I was
popping along the way were causing this color, hmm. A normal bowel movement
well after the race, boy I wish that had occurred pre-race, I carried it for
18 freaking hours. No other health issues, but my calves are surprisingly
sore now; I attempted to place my feet flat on the slopes, and am thinking
they got over-extended on the steep ascents, not sure.

As for the race experience, I can't be rational or linear at this point. I
generally get emotional near the top of La Luz, and it's the same here, a
blur of images and feelings. The pre-dawn single-track lemming march off
the cliff in the dark. Hiking up the first steep hill of volcanic tuff.
Stepping over the first of numerous small streams. Climbing up a re-bar
ladder next to a waterfall. Hearing a lady from Lubbock yell she was
training for Badwater, that this was not racing, and not what she signed up
for! (I don't see any women from TX on the finisher's list, hmmm. Yet
another reason to move north, more mountain-running chicks. You can have
that boiling lake of asphalt all to yourself, thank you no thank you!).
Snagging a sock climbing over one of the couple dozen fallen trees. The
steep, slushy and slippery hike up the cool dark heavily-wooded Caballo
ascent. Glancing up and seeing Karl Metzler flash by like a picture from a
magazine. Emerging on the peak, turning right around and slipping sliding
down the same slush, recognizing a few faces from last year's races. Coming
out of Pipeline aid station and gasping in astonishment at a 30 degree dirt
slope, yelling at the girl sliding in front of me (one of many gorgeous
runner chicks, all of whom finished long before me) that Karl Metzler would
do this at a full sprint, none of this hesitant sliding crap. And that was
the first marathon.

This year the designer added another portion in mid-race, a descent down
into and directly across the Valles Caldera and up to Cerro Grande peak, and
I'm very glad now he did. The Valles Caldera marathon skirts this valley,
sticking to logging roads, but here we struck out straight across it. From
the edge this looks like a pleasant stroll, a shallow grassy bowl with tall
stands of ponderosa on the distant gentle slopes. Going cross-country it's
a hummocky tussocky marshy mess, and was followed by an astounding scramble
directly up a scree field. This is exactly like it's rockslide counterpart
on the La Luz, but with big giant boulders, in which I had a couple shaky
moments. Followed by more tussocks, this time angled at about 20 degrees
and slush-covered all the way to the peak, and down down down in a steep
descent. By now I was pretty knackered, and at about 28M was done running.
The earlier steep descents were enjoyable and you could think smilingly
about 'pain management', but now I could feel my quads vibrate and my knees
pound, and didn't like it.

About mile 31, I and a couple other runners missed a switchback and walked
parallel to it for a bit before consulting a map and seeing flags a few
hundred yards up the slope that got us back on course. Shortly after the
next aid station I lost sight of them and missed a switchback again at a
ski-run crossing. Seeing buildings in the distance, I walked towards them,
was intercepted by a volunteer, and found I had cut across an entire loop
going to Pajarito peak. Luckily someone earlier had done the same thing,
and after checking with the race director I was offered the choice of
climbing directly up the ski-run to the peak and then right back down. This
was at 2:30pm so I'd been on the course 9.5 hours and the cutoff time to
leave the aid station was 5pm. I said sure, and started off up the ski
road, but was mentally dull and looking at my shoes instead of the course,
and wandered up the road half an hour before realizing I'd missed the
turnoff again.

This was my low point, and I started back down grumbling that I'd quit. But
the thought of wearing the t-shirt with a big dripping DNF stenciled across
the front was just too depressing to bear, so reaching the turnoff I told
myself to take a few steps up see how it was, and etc, and eventually
reached the peak with lots of runners yelling I going the wrong way, and
came back down. I asked one runner to vouch for me at the aid station, but
it turns out they were watching me with binoculars the whole time, ha! I
made the cutoff by 1/2 hour.

The rest of the run (fast walk for me) was unremarkable pretty average
trailrunning with enjoyable views of the countryside but no technical
challenges, which is why I'm glad the middle Cerro Grande ascent through the
Caldera was added, it very much spiced things up. The runners who passed me
in this last 10 miles were the most impressive thing of the entire event for
me. The discipline it had to take to start slower and then jog at the end
when they had to be hurting just as much as I was, whew. The final aid
station had a hawaiian theme with the ladies wearing skirts and leis, and
I'm very thankful to those lovely volunteers for the much needed spiritual
boost. They called me by name, talked to me, patted me on the shoulder like
a person instead of the outhouse-stinking mess I was, and much cheered I
jogged at a good stiff pace all the way to the finish, catching a runner
who'd passed me earlier. I yelled at him to go for it, I wasn't about to
pass this late, but he was cramping badly and waved me on. I stayed a few
minutes to cheer him and the next runner home and scarf a couple barbeque
sandwiches, then left, with finisher's pottery and a gift certificate
in-hand. Fifteen hours twenty eight minutes.
http://www.highaltitudeathletics.org/results.htm

I guess it just goes to show that, it really is all about the t-shirt. Next
training run: The Taos Marathon.

rms


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