Crow Pass Crossing, Eagle River, Alaska- July 24th, 2010
Crow Pass Crossing was an amazing race and one that I can't wait to do again. Epic trail and scenary and the competition was incredible. Check it out! PLUS Trail Runner Magazine enewsletter put the race report in their October issue.
Driving up the narrow dirt road to the parking lot the morning of the race I’ll admit a level of nervousness I’d not felt in any of my previous races. The massive mountains shoot straight up in every direction, rushing waterfalls and rivers everywhere you look, dreary clouds are dropping in lower and lower on the mountain and every time I look around some lumberjack looking physical specimen is running full speed “warm-ups” up the mountain. Who are these people?! Where are all the old guys? Where are all the skinny white dudes? Everyone looks like a rugby player with a Chuck Norris beard. The women are even intimidating. Look at that woman’s thighs??! Isn’t that the woman that was holding the newborn baby from the meeting last night?? This is some race and I just barely got out of the car. Alaska… I swear, you should get a passport stamp for coming here. These people are no joke.
Crow Pass bills itself as a 24 mile race self supported (no aid stations at all) in the Chugach National Forest starting in Girdwood, Alaska. Starting on a bridge you immediately climb 2 miles and 2,000 feet or so (3,888 total gain)and then fly down a few snowfields, across some glacier rivers, through some alder tunnels, wade across the frigid Eagle River, and back to the finish at Eagle River Visitor Center over some of the rootiest, rockiest, most technical trail out there. There is no shortage of media coverage for this event. One of the two “big” events in Alaska for running (Mt. Marathon being the other) there were multiple articles leading up to the race as well as multiple local tv stations filming the race. Something you don’t always see for a ultramarathon not named “Western States” let alone a 24 mile “not even a marathon” race.
I nervously toed the line on the bridge at just before 7am Saturday morning. Long sleeved shirt, shorts, gloves on and a bandana over the ears, I was more than ready to get this race going. Having heard about, read about, watched video about, and every other hype on this race I was ready to see if this course was really as tough as it’s claimed to be. My cousin Josh was standing next to me muddled in between the other cyborgs and lumberjacks. It would be his first race longer than a half marathon and it took some convincing to get him signed up. He cracked and now he’s here. Cursing me. Twenty four more miles and he’ll be off the roads and on the trails forever.
The leaders up ahead of us bolted on the start and as expected, we would never see them again. This year was year five for Douglas, Alaska resident Geoff Roes. He set the course record of under 3 hours last year in a tight race with local stud Eric Strabel (who somehow decided a moustache was appropriate for the race?!! Sorry, it’s Alaska. Beards only.) Both had one 2 races each and it was surely going to be those two running full speed the entire way to victory number 3.
We bolted straight up the parking lot a hundred meters until the trail dives right into the alders and onto a double wide trail of gravel. The 100+ runners converged and filed in line and I had to hold myself in check from gunning it up the hill. Full speed and full of energy I tend to always go out too soon. Being a “shorter” distance and usually used to 50K or longer I felt I could go out hard on the climb and still maintain the remainder of the race. For the sake of conservative wisdom I held back on the climb and maintained a solid pace. Around the first bend I see a camera man filming the runners ascending the pass. A camera crew? Really?? Quick!...pick up the pace and run fast all of a sudden so the people on TV think you are in really good shape! Then immediately slow down after you pass the camera. I’ve got it all figured out.
The climb wasn’t as bad as I had expected. It’s a wide enough trail in the beginning, levels out here and there and isn’t terribly steep. Coming from the Arizona desert and 110 degrees the 45 degrees felt incredible climbing up the mountain. Looking ahead there was already a large line of runners up front spotting the ridgeline heading towards the pass. Continuing on up I kept holding myself back from a strong pace and stayed conservative until the steepest climb. Spectators lined the trail every few sections and cheered everyone on, something that would be a constant throughout the race despite the desolate nature of the trail. Climbing up the trail alongside two massive waterfalls I glance at my watch over and over. Not sure of the mileage to the pass I see we are at 27 minutes and 1.78 miles. Not sure it if was a 4 mile checkpoint or 2 mile or what it was the 60 minute cutoff started to make me nervous. I look back to Josh who was just a few steps behind me and yell into the now ripping wind to pick it up. Only a few people stand behind us on the trail. We must be in the back of the pack. We can’t possibly get booted the first checkpoint…
Climbing harder up over the ridge the wind is whipping hard and nearly tearing my race bib off my shorts. I hold it down and thank myself for throwing on the long sleeved dry-fit at the very last minute. I was freezing and wishing for that 110 degrees all of a sudden. Looking back again Josh motions me to go on. I push hard up the hill, across a small stream and power up the last stretch to the 80 year old man who has full veto power on your race. Even if you make it under the 60 minute cutoff, if you don’t look “fit” to go on, he can turn you back to the start and end your race. Feeling good he ok’d me in my 41 minutes to the top (Strabel blew through here ten minutes earlier…) and Josh followed behind well within the limit two minutes later. We caught our breath quickly, pounded a power gel and headed out across the flat snow field.
The trail skirts across multiple snow fields amid the strong and cold winds, through rock fields and tundra. A short distance of flat ground takes you to the drop off and the view of Eagle River below. One look at this and you suddenly realize this is not just “another race”, but that this race is bordering on Epic. Two and a half miles in I’m already astounded at the beauty of it all. I look to my right as I hop over a slick rock and by the race photographers (naturally at a much faster pace than was necessary) to see Raven Glacier in full view, draining and melting into the valley you must now run straight down. An amazing feature in its own right but alongside this trail with the already picturesque valley below, you can only stare in amazement. You can’t though, it’s a race and you’ll fall flat on your face if you try. (I tried) Only 2 and a half miles into the race it already may be the most beautiful stretch of trail I’ve ever ran.
We fall in behind two other guys running in front of us. One older generation who last ran this race 19 years ago and another young guy named Josh who had only ran a half marathon prior to this. We followed them down the snow fields, single track, sharp and wet rocks to the valley floor below. One sharp turn after another, sliding down snow trails, small rivers all around you. This stretch is the ultimate downhill stretch where you can really fly down it but only at the risk of your medical insurance deductible. I’m falling madly in love with this trail. It’s already bordering on creepy.
My mind wanders to Power Gels and how they must be one of the most accurately advertised products ever created. The do exactly as advertised, EVERY time. As expected, ten minutes after slamming a delicious double latte with 2x the caffeine I was ready to pound the trails. The trail was a 8” wide dirt trail with scatter rocks, roots and random obstacles. Along the trail was thick bushes, rocks, the occasional supportive camper and campsite, and small streams everywhere. This trail was MADE for trail running. Every aspect that makes a runner a trail runner was found and exploited to its fullest in this race. One turn after another the trail makes you want to push it harder, faster, stronger and then even more with each new turn, the new hill, and the next challenge. Crashing through the first river crossing of glacial water, up the bank and down the trail covered in lush vegetation I felt like this was what every runner must dream about. What I’ve always dreamed about. This was just plain fun. Real fun like you have when you are a kid riding your bike through mud puddles getting so wet and dirty your Mom can only laugh when you come home. This wasn’t like any other race where I feel physically challenged by each hill, mountain, or long challenging section. This was pure and absolute fun. This trail makes you want to run and I wanted to run hard.
Josh and I fell in with a large group on the narrow single track and settled in with their pace. I would have liked to have gone faster but there was nowhere to go and it was only a few miles into this race. Conservative wisdom prevails once again. The bushes got higher on both sides of the trail, wildflowers were scattered throughout so the hillside was so beautiful to this desert dweller used to cactus and dirt I almost fell several times playing “tourist”. The trail was muddy and narrow, grass and bushes covered the trail that disguised foot high roots and rocks that were dropping runners left and right. Not two minutes later after I was able to get the thought of catching a bear off guard we opened up out of the bushes to a small meadow to find a black bear mulling about a safe section off the trail. Clearly not interested in the five of us he walked about among the flowers as we cruised by him without incident. Nonetheless, another run in was on the mind all day and I was thinking of ways to embellish the size of the bear the rest of the day. Bear sighting: Check.
I let Josh lead the way in hopes of keeping my caffeine induced body from blasting down the trail to the river. By now we lost our group of runners and were running solo. Bounding down the obstacle riddled trail, trying hard not to fall on my face and shatter a rib I couldn’t help but think just how incredibly it is that the leaders were able to run this same trail at such a fast pace and NOT splatter their face on the rocks. Roots so high off the trail you could smack your shin on it and the trail is so narrow you can’t put both feet together side by side in some sections. Coupled with an ongoing overgrowth on the trail you can’t see where you are going and only furthering your chances to startle a bear or moose.
Breaking through the high, thick vegetation was somewhat a relief as we entered into a forest with smooth pine covered trails. After an unmarked intersection and some guess work we began to steadily wind our way through blind corner after blind corner with loud claps, whistles and yelling to scare away the bears that we would never see. Here and there you could get a glimpse of Eagle River below us down the valley and the closer we got the more I thought about this infamous “river crossing.” Looking down at the river and the sun poking through the clouds was simply beautiful; I just couldn’t take my eyes off the view. Until I face planted into some alders.
We were only about 10 miles into the race when we opened up on the river bottom below and followed a flat section to mile 11 where the river crossing was. The first river crossing after the passwas about ten feet wide. This was not ten feet wide. This was probably about 60-70 meters wide the river was the only way to get to the trail on the other side. Two race volunteers awaited you with yellow bracelets for your proof you crossed in the right spot. This was the halfway point of the race and it was very positive to see the river and the half dozen people crossing it at the time we ran up. Especially considering that at this point I was seriously thinking we were in dead last. I jumped into the ice water before I thought about it too much and was instantly hit with an “OH MY GOD” feeling in how cold the water was. I’ve been in cold water before but this was unreal. Up to our lower thighs we plugged across the river one step at a time, trying hard to not foolishly slip and fall in. The temperature was only around 50 degrees outside so running wet for the remainder of the race would not have been enjoyable, or safe. Half way through my legs began to feel like there is permanent damage being done from the cold water, looking back at Josh he seemed to be getting some kind of sick enjoyment out of this. Alaska +1 point. Arizona -1 point.
Trying to walk out the cold in our legs and get the blood flowing again my legs started to feel much better. The cold really did help in fixing up the legs for the second half and with all the hills done for the race we entered the woods for the remainder. We quickly caught up to the two women we followed down the mountain in the very beginning. We kept with them for quite some time and their safe and comfortable pace. The trail wound through the forest, along the river and over mud, grass, rocks and one bridge after another. As the miles plugged on I started to feel better and better. After the ice bath Josh was feeling great and we continued on picking our way through the trail. We were passed a few times, once by Darth Vader (SUPER heavy breather) and a few ambitious second half runners. We passed a few ourselves (Darth Vader three times) as we moved along and eventually we passed the two nice ladies after a couple sections of steep descents with fixed ropes, ladders and a few near falls into the river.
Right around mile fifteen we spotted some brightly colored signs on the trees and heard some cheering as we came upon a campsite. A group of campers were cheering on all the runners and giving out chocolate covered peanut butter bars. As a self supported race with no aid stations for 24 miles this was a life saver. Gels and water are great for a while but that little bit of “real” food can go a long ways. The cheering is almost more valuable and we left their site grateful and energized.
The last several miles were a little rougher than expected. I think I had it in my mind that after the river it was going to be smooth trail to the finish…not the case. The trail became very, very rugged with more roots on a trail than I’ve probably seen. Very narrow footing and it made for difficult running although I felt strong and ready to run hard to the finish. Once we cleared this section we were left with only a few miles left. Powering up for a solid finish we had more gel and I had the last of my water. Mile 19 resulted in the last of my water supply but I figured I could make it through so long as my legs don’t cramp up on me mid stride causing me to pull up lame and collapse in a heap of failure in front of the finish line and all the Alaskan Gladiators that finished three hours before me. The trail opens up and gets along very easily as we got closer and closer to the Visitor Center. We started seeing more and more signs for the Visitor Center and more and more people that had hiked in from the Center a few miles to cheer on the runners. These people were so incredible as with each person sighted you just feel compelled to run a little harder, a little straighter and a little faster.
Josh held a great pace on the flats and got us through the few miles leading to the near finish. With just a mile or two remaining I asked Josh if he was ready to push for a hard finish. Not feeling he was quite up to it today he said to go along and push it if I wanted to. Reluctantly I moved on and pushed the pace up the trail. I could feel my legs responding well and my breathing was even and clear. One spectator after another pushed me faster and faster as I got closer to the finish line. Images of the finish line up ahead flashed through my mind as in any race and I pushed even harder. The trail wound through the forest, down then up, around corners, down a long boardwalk through a marsh. I wanted to push it even more and picked up the pace into the six minute range, well faster than I had run all day along the trail. The trail climbed gradually up the road, and I ran harder not wanting to lose any of the pace I had on this incline. One person after another cheered me on with, “Way to run!” and “Great pace!” and all the little things along a race course that make you come back again and again. I cleared 21 miles on my Garmin watch when someone said, “One more mile!!” I was amazed by this as I was expecting to run hard the last four miles and now there was only 1 left. I pushed it even more. Suddenly I was climbing the last hill of the race and I could see my family up ahead on the corner. I sped past them and all the people watching, some guy who passed us miles ago, rounded the corner and sprinted up the hill. I opened up my pace as fast as I could and suddenly looked up at the finish and before I knew it I was done.
I quickly turning around I looked for Josh. Just a few minutes before he was not interested AT ALL in running hard to the finish but there he was just a few seconds behind me flying up the hill to a really strong finish.
Once we crossed the finish we were given a Snickers bar (odd but thanks…) and a nice woman came to greet me. “You really saved all that energy for the finish didn’t you?!” “I’m the lady that needs to check your bag.” Obliging I open my pack to show the required long underwear tops and bottoms, stocking cap, gloves, water container, and top and bottom rain gear. The items were checked by the RD prior to the race in the morning and I was happy to see they followed through with the check afterwards. Nothing worse than carrying this gear for nothing.
The feeling after a race is I think what makes me come back again and again. Despite the pain and suffering that you force yourself to go through to reach that end result that feeling of accomplishment, both physical and mental is unmatched. The inspiring nature of running and the sight and sound of someone finishing their first big race is enough for me to sign up each time. Recapping the race with fellow runners you leap frogged all day and seeing your friends finish strong make every ounce of the energy spent worth it.
I can’t say I’m pleased with the 5:11 it took me to finish the race. I typically would run a 50K race in that time and this was only 22 miles (according to Mr. Garmin). But overall I didn’t bonk once, was never was really tired or beat up and when it came down to the finish I had plenty left in the tank. If anything my slower time (2 hours and 17 minutes slower than Geoff Roes eventual record finish…) only makes me want to come back again and really slam the pedal the whole way and see where that takes me. This trail was made for pushing your limits, testing yourself against some big time competition and finding out what you are really capable of. The climb up the pass, the narrow, technical trail down to the river and the ankle grabbing last ten miles really test your ability to maintain that hard pace. That pace you know you can’t maintain but you do anyway. That pace where you feel your legs getting wobbly, your lungs burning, your mind foggy. I’m looking forward to that chance to really find out what that pace will be.
Until then…
Driving up the narrow dirt road to the parking lot the morning of the race I’ll admit a level of nervousness I’d not felt in any of my previous races. The massive mountains shoot straight up in every direction, rushing waterfalls and rivers everywhere you look, dreary clouds are dropping in lower and lower on the mountain and every time I look around some lumberjack looking physical specimen is running full speed “warm-ups” up the mountain. Who are these people?! Where are all the old guys? Where are all the skinny white dudes? Everyone looks like a rugby player with a Chuck Norris beard. The women are even intimidating. Look at that woman’s thighs??! Isn’t that the woman that was holding the newborn baby from the meeting last night?? This is some race and I just barely got out of the car. Alaska… I swear, you should get a passport stamp for coming here. These people are no joke.
Crow Pass bills itself as a 24 mile race self supported (no aid stations at all) in the Chugach National Forest starting in Girdwood, Alaska. Starting on a bridge you immediately climb 2 miles and 2,000 feet or so (3,888 total gain)and then fly down a few snowfields, across some glacier rivers, through some alder tunnels, wade across the frigid Eagle River, and back to the finish at Eagle River Visitor Center over some of the rootiest, rockiest, most technical trail out there. There is no shortage of media coverage for this event. One of the two “big” events in Alaska for running (Mt. Marathon being the other) there were multiple articles leading up to the race as well as multiple local tv stations filming the race. Something you don’t always see for a ultramarathon not named “Western States” let alone a 24 mile “not even a marathon” race.
I nervously toed the line on the bridge at just before 7am Saturday morning. Long sleeved shirt, shorts, gloves on and a bandana over the ears, I was more than ready to get this race going. Having heard about, read about, watched video about, and every other hype on this race I was ready to see if this course was really as tough as it’s claimed to be. My cousin Josh was standing next to me muddled in between the other cyborgs and lumberjacks. It would be his first race longer than a half marathon and it took some convincing to get him signed up. He cracked and now he’s here. Cursing me. Twenty four more miles and he’ll be off the roads and on the trails forever.
The leaders up ahead of us bolted on the start and as expected, we would never see them again. This year was year five for Douglas, Alaska resident Geoff Roes. He set the course record of under 3 hours last year in a tight race with local stud Eric Strabel (who somehow decided a moustache was appropriate for the race?!! Sorry, it’s Alaska. Beards only.) Both had one 2 races each and it was surely going to be those two running full speed the entire way to victory number 3.
We bolted straight up the parking lot a hundred meters until the trail dives right into the alders and onto a double wide trail of gravel. The 100+ runners converged and filed in line and I had to hold myself in check from gunning it up the hill. Full speed and full of energy I tend to always go out too soon. Being a “shorter” distance and usually used to 50K or longer I felt I could go out hard on the climb and still maintain the remainder of the race. For the sake of conservative wisdom I held back on the climb and maintained a solid pace. Around the first bend I see a camera man filming the runners ascending the pass. A camera crew? Really?? Quick!...pick up the pace and run fast all of a sudden so the people on TV think you are in really good shape! Then immediately slow down after you pass the camera. I’ve got it all figured out.
The climb wasn’t as bad as I had expected. It’s a wide enough trail in the beginning, levels out here and there and isn’t terribly steep. Coming from the Arizona desert and 110 degrees the 45 degrees felt incredible climbing up the mountain. Looking ahead there was already a large line of runners up front spotting the ridgeline heading towards the pass. Continuing on up I kept holding myself back from a strong pace and stayed conservative until the steepest climb. Spectators lined the trail every few sections and cheered everyone on, something that would be a constant throughout the race despite the desolate nature of the trail. Climbing up the trail alongside two massive waterfalls I glance at my watch over and over. Not sure of the mileage to the pass I see we are at 27 minutes and 1.78 miles. Not sure it if was a 4 mile checkpoint or 2 mile or what it was the 60 minute cutoff started to make me nervous. I look back to Josh who was just a few steps behind me and yell into the now ripping wind to pick it up. Only a few people stand behind us on the trail. We must be in the back of the pack. We can’t possibly get booted the first checkpoint…
Climbing harder up over the ridge the wind is whipping hard and nearly tearing my race bib off my shorts. I hold it down and thank myself for throwing on the long sleeved dry-fit at the very last minute. I was freezing and wishing for that 110 degrees all of a sudden. Looking back again Josh motions me to go on. I push hard up the hill, across a small stream and power up the last stretch to the 80 year old man who has full veto power on your race. Even if you make it under the 60 minute cutoff, if you don’t look “fit” to go on, he can turn you back to the start and end your race. Feeling good he ok’d me in my 41 minutes to the top (Strabel blew through here ten minutes earlier…) and Josh followed behind well within the limit two minutes later. We caught our breath quickly, pounded a power gel and headed out across the flat snow field.
The trail skirts across multiple snow fields amid the strong and cold winds, through rock fields and tundra. A short distance of flat ground takes you to the drop off and the view of Eagle River below. One look at this and you suddenly realize this is not just “another race”, but that this race is bordering on Epic. Two and a half miles in I’m already astounded at the beauty of it all. I look to my right as I hop over a slick rock and by the race photographers (naturally at a much faster pace than was necessary) to see Raven Glacier in full view, draining and melting into the valley you must now run straight down. An amazing feature in its own right but alongside this trail with the already picturesque valley below, you can only stare in amazement. You can’t though, it’s a race and you’ll fall flat on your face if you try. (I tried) Only 2 and a half miles into the race it already may be the most beautiful stretch of trail I’ve ever ran.
We fall in behind two other guys running in front of us. One older generation who last ran this race 19 years ago and another young guy named Josh who had only ran a half marathon prior to this. We followed them down the snow fields, single track, sharp and wet rocks to the valley floor below. One sharp turn after another, sliding down snow trails, small rivers all around you. This stretch is the ultimate downhill stretch where you can really fly down it but only at the risk of your medical insurance deductible. I’m falling madly in love with this trail. It’s already bordering on creepy.
My mind wanders to Power Gels and how they must be one of the most accurately advertised products ever created. The do exactly as advertised, EVERY time. As expected, ten minutes after slamming a delicious double latte with 2x the caffeine I was ready to pound the trails. The trail was a 8” wide dirt trail with scatter rocks, roots and random obstacles. Along the trail was thick bushes, rocks, the occasional supportive camper and campsite, and small streams everywhere. This trail was MADE for trail running. Every aspect that makes a runner a trail runner was found and exploited to its fullest in this race. One turn after another the trail makes you want to push it harder, faster, stronger and then even more with each new turn, the new hill, and the next challenge. Crashing through the first river crossing of glacial water, up the bank and down the trail covered in lush vegetation I felt like this was what every runner must dream about. What I’ve always dreamed about. This was just plain fun. Real fun like you have when you are a kid riding your bike through mud puddles getting so wet and dirty your Mom can only laugh when you come home. This wasn’t like any other race where I feel physically challenged by each hill, mountain, or long challenging section. This was pure and absolute fun. This trail makes you want to run and I wanted to run hard.
Josh and I fell in with a large group on the narrow single track and settled in with their pace. I would have liked to have gone faster but there was nowhere to go and it was only a few miles into this race. Conservative wisdom prevails once again. The bushes got higher on both sides of the trail, wildflowers were scattered throughout so the hillside was so beautiful to this desert dweller used to cactus and dirt I almost fell several times playing “tourist”. The trail was muddy and narrow, grass and bushes covered the trail that disguised foot high roots and rocks that were dropping runners left and right. Not two minutes later after I was able to get the thought of catching a bear off guard we opened up out of the bushes to a small meadow to find a black bear mulling about a safe section off the trail. Clearly not interested in the five of us he walked about among the flowers as we cruised by him without incident. Nonetheless, another run in was on the mind all day and I was thinking of ways to embellish the size of the bear the rest of the day. Bear sighting: Check.
I let Josh lead the way in hopes of keeping my caffeine induced body from blasting down the trail to the river. By now we lost our group of runners and were running solo. Bounding down the obstacle riddled trail, trying hard not to fall on my face and shatter a rib I couldn’t help but think just how incredibly it is that the leaders were able to run this same trail at such a fast pace and NOT splatter their face on the rocks. Roots so high off the trail you could smack your shin on it and the trail is so narrow you can’t put both feet together side by side in some sections. Coupled with an ongoing overgrowth on the trail you can’t see where you are going and only furthering your chances to startle a bear or moose.
Breaking through the high, thick vegetation was somewhat a relief as we entered into a forest with smooth pine covered trails. After an unmarked intersection and some guess work we began to steadily wind our way through blind corner after blind corner with loud claps, whistles and yelling to scare away the bears that we would never see. Here and there you could get a glimpse of Eagle River below us down the valley and the closer we got the more I thought about this infamous “river crossing.” Looking down at the river and the sun poking through the clouds was simply beautiful; I just couldn’t take my eyes off the view. Until I face planted into some alders.
We were only about 10 miles into the race when we opened up on the river bottom below and followed a flat section to mile 11 where the river crossing was. The first river crossing after the passwas about ten feet wide. This was not ten feet wide. This was probably about 60-70 meters wide the river was the only way to get to the trail on the other side. Two race volunteers awaited you with yellow bracelets for your proof you crossed in the right spot. This was the halfway point of the race and it was very positive to see the river and the half dozen people crossing it at the time we ran up. Especially considering that at this point I was seriously thinking we were in dead last. I jumped into the ice water before I thought about it too much and was instantly hit with an “OH MY GOD” feeling in how cold the water was. I’ve been in cold water before but this was unreal. Up to our lower thighs we plugged across the river one step at a time, trying hard to not foolishly slip and fall in. The temperature was only around 50 degrees outside so running wet for the remainder of the race would not have been enjoyable, or safe. Half way through my legs began to feel like there is permanent damage being done from the cold water, looking back at Josh he seemed to be getting some kind of sick enjoyment out of this. Alaska +1 point. Arizona -1 point.
Trying to walk out the cold in our legs and get the blood flowing again my legs started to feel much better. The cold really did help in fixing up the legs for the second half and with all the hills done for the race we entered the woods for the remainder. We quickly caught up to the two women we followed down the mountain in the very beginning. We kept with them for quite some time and their safe and comfortable pace. The trail wound through the forest, along the river and over mud, grass, rocks and one bridge after another. As the miles plugged on I started to feel better and better. After the ice bath Josh was feeling great and we continued on picking our way through the trail. We were passed a few times, once by Darth Vader (SUPER heavy breather) and a few ambitious second half runners. We passed a few ourselves (Darth Vader three times) as we moved along and eventually we passed the two nice ladies after a couple sections of steep descents with fixed ropes, ladders and a few near falls into the river.
Right around mile fifteen we spotted some brightly colored signs on the trees and heard some cheering as we came upon a campsite. A group of campers were cheering on all the runners and giving out chocolate covered peanut butter bars. As a self supported race with no aid stations for 24 miles this was a life saver. Gels and water are great for a while but that little bit of “real” food can go a long ways. The cheering is almost more valuable and we left their site grateful and energized.
The last several miles were a little rougher than expected. I think I had it in my mind that after the river it was going to be smooth trail to the finish…not the case. The trail became very, very rugged with more roots on a trail than I’ve probably seen. Very narrow footing and it made for difficult running although I felt strong and ready to run hard to the finish. Once we cleared this section we were left with only a few miles left. Powering up for a solid finish we had more gel and I had the last of my water. Mile 19 resulted in the last of my water supply but I figured I could make it through so long as my legs don’t cramp up on me mid stride causing me to pull up lame and collapse in a heap of failure in front of the finish line and all the Alaskan Gladiators that finished three hours before me. The trail opens up and gets along very easily as we got closer and closer to the Visitor Center. We started seeing more and more signs for the Visitor Center and more and more people that had hiked in from the Center a few miles to cheer on the runners. These people were so incredible as with each person sighted you just feel compelled to run a little harder, a little straighter and a little faster.
Josh held a great pace on the flats and got us through the few miles leading to the near finish. With just a mile or two remaining I asked Josh if he was ready to push for a hard finish. Not feeling he was quite up to it today he said to go along and push it if I wanted to. Reluctantly I moved on and pushed the pace up the trail. I could feel my legs responding well and my breathing was even and clear. One spectator after another pushed me faster and faster as I got closer to the finish line. Images of the finish line up ahead flashed through my mind as in any race and I pushed even harder. The trail wound through the forest, down then up, around corners, down a long boardwalk through a marsh. I wanted to push it even more and picked up the pace into the six minute range, well faster than I had run all day along the trail. The trail climbed gradually up the road, and I ran harder not wanting to lose any of the pace I had on this incline. One person after another cheered me on with, “Way to run!” and “Great pace!” and all the little things along a race course that make you come back again and again. I cleared 21 miles on my Garmin watch when someone said, “One more mile!!” I was amazed by this as I was expecting to run hard the last four miles and now there was only 1 left. I pushed it even more. Suddenly I was climbing the last hill of the race and I could see my family up ahead on the corner. I sped past them and all the people watching, some guy who passed us miles ago, rounded the corner and sprinted up the hill. I opened up my pace as fast as I could and suddenly looked up at the finish and before I knew it I was done.
I quickly turning around I looked for Josh. Just a few minutes before he was not interested AT ALL in running hard to the finish but there he was just a few seconds behind me flying up the hill to a really strong finish.
Once we crossed the finish we were given a Snickers bar (odd but thanks…) and a nice woman came to greet me. “You really saved all that energy for the finish didn’t you?!” “I’m the lady that needs to check your bag.” Obliging I open my pack to show the required long underwear tops and bottoms, stocking cap, gloves, water container, and top and bottom rain gear. The items were checked by the RD prior to the race in the morning and I was happy to see they followed through with the check afterwards. Nothing worse than carrying this gear for nothing.
The feeling after a race is I think what makes me come back again and again. Despite the pain and suffering that you force yourself to go through to reach that end result that feeling of accomplishment, both physical and mental is unmatched. The inspiring nature of running and the sight and sound of someone finishing their first big race is enough for me to sign up each time. Recapping the race with fellow runners you leap frogged all day and seeing your friends finish strong make every ounce of the energy spent worth it.
I can’t say I’m pleased with the 5:11 it took me to finish the race. I typically would run a 50K race in that time and this was only 22 miles (according to Mr. Garmin). But overall I didn’t bonk once, was never was really tired or beat up and when it came down to the finish I had plenty left in the tank. If anything my slower time (2 hours and 17 minutes slower than Geoff Roes eventual record finish…) only makes me want to come back again and really slam the pedal the whole way and see where that takes me. This trail was made for pushing your limits, testing yourself against some big time competition and finding out what you are really capable of. The climb up the pass, the narrow, technical trail down to the river and the ankle grabbing last ten miles really test your ability to maintain that hard pace. That pace you know you can’t maintain but you do anyway. That pace where you feel your legs getting wobbly, your lungs burning, your mind foggy. I’m looking forward to that chance to really find out what that pace will be.
Until then…
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