Yesterday was the Skyline 50K, a race I've had VERY mixed results in over the years. In 1994 it was my very first ultra, entered at the last minute on a lark when dead Evelyn Rodriguez (since then truly dead, insofar as DRS is concerned, I presume) showed up in town and said she was running it and I said "What the hey, I'll keep you company." Finished in 5:48. The next year I had the race of my life and finished in 5:09. In 1996 I was having another good day, when all of a sudden at mile 19 I developed severe ITB problems in both knees (very similar to what happened to me at Western States two years ago), and had to walk the last 12 miles, finishing in 6:12. And, for one reason and another, I never did get back there, until this year. The course had changed, I *think* it's supposed to be a little easier (and it IS a LOT prettier, substituting one gorgeous singletrack for a horrible fireroad passing a firing range), so I was thinking 5:30, maybe 5:45. Especially when I saw it was going to be a cool, overcast day, quite unlike some of the past scorchers on this course.
Alas, it was not to be. I ran strong all day, refueled and rehydrated properly, spent minimal time at the aid stations, even "sprinted" the last three miles in a vain hope to break 6 hours, and I still finished in 6:02. The old gray stallion he ain't what he used to be. Still, what's not to be happy about? A great day on some beautiful trails, with a full-on barbeque awaiting me at the end (not to mention a lovely sleeveless Coolmax T-shirt).
Deads everywhere. Before the race, there was Gary Wang, and Sally and Kevin. At the first main aid station (Bort Meadow), there was Kay Blom...and Kevin. At the next aid station, Big Bear, there were Jim Winne (actually just getting out of his car), Jane Colman...and Kevin. At the turnaround at Skyline Gate...Kevin again. Back to Big Bear, and Jane, Jim...and Kevin. And then finally at the finish...Kevin (and, later, Sally). Yup, that Kevin was in more places on the course than poison oak. :-) And a much more welcome sight. :-)
My two stories of the day: first was a typical situation I find myself in - there was this one woman I would pass on every single uphill (whether I was running, as on the milder uphills, or just walking fast, as on the steeper uphills), and who would then cruise by me on the flats and downhills. I'm not exaggerating when I say we traded places at least ten times during the day. Finally, in the section between mile 15 and 20, where the course winds along the beautiful singletrack of Redwood Regional Park, in and out of a series of canyons with lots of up and downhills, I was sure I had dropped her - no sight of her at all behind me. But then as we headed downhill to the aid station, there she was cruising by me again. I knew there was still one major uphill, as we left the Big Bear aid station, and I figured I'd pass her again. But evidently she built up a big lead, so that by the time we hit the very summit of that climb, I was literally within five feet of her. Then we hit the downhill and that was all she wrote (she ended up beating me to the finish by about 7 minutes).
The second story was my finish. I hit the last aid station, 3.05 miles from the finish with one big downhill to start, at 5:29:01. My mental acuity was of course limited at the time, but I figured that I had the slimmest of chances to break 6 hours, and decided I'd die trying. So I breezed through the aid station and headed off downhill for all I was worth. After a while I started to catch some guy who was one of those frustrating people, walking half the time, then running, but somehow managing to keep ahead of me for the longest time. Finally I caught him and said "C'mon, we still can break 6 hours, join the '6 hours or die trying' club." He said sure and picked up his pace. After another little while we caught up with another dragging runner, gave him the same pitch, and then there was a group of three of us, going for all we were worth to the finish line. The last of the trio evidently had more left, because he pulled ahead. As we closed in on the finish, the clock (ok, my watch) ticked over 6:00, and obviously we hadn't done it, but my companion said his p.r. was 6:05, and I guesstimated we'd finish in 6:02:30 (actual time ended up being 6:02:12), so that was good. We kept pushing for the finish, now with the run turning not into a "break 6 hours" run as much as a bit of a mano a mano thing. Nearing the final turn, he started to cut the corner to ace me out. "Gosh darn it," I thought, "here was this guy dragging along and he'd probably be five minutes back if it hadn't been for me, and now he's trying to beat me?" The heck with that! I put on one of my patented Dipsea finish line bursts of speed, arms pumping for all they were worth, and left him covered with dust (figuratively). :-)
All's well that ends well!
Steve "Old Gray Stallion" Patt
in Cupertino, CA, where the sun is FINALLY coming out now that
it's 2:00, and I expect to be heading out for a leg-loosening,
lactic acid removing bike ride in a few hours.