Baker Lake 50k 2018

Mt. Baker through old growth

Two down, not sure if there are any more to go. A few days before this race I found a 60k in Bryce Canyon that takes place 2 days after my 60th birthday next May. I was super excited and almost clicked on "register" but decided to wait until the day after this race and of course at about mile 26 I was saying to myself, "F#*k Bryce Canyon" I'm never doing this again, let alone 6.2 more miles! Every mountain I've climbed, every endurance race I've slogged through, I have had the same thoughts as the finish line drew near. The discomfort, the relentless distance, the outright pain..."Why do this to myself again?" And yet, just 3 days post race and I'm planning my training regimen for Bryce Canyon. I still haven't signed up yet, but I'm pretty sure I will. 

Let me back up a bit and give you a blow by blow. Despite Vog in Maui and smoke in the PNW I did manage to get a fair bit of training in, including three twenty-milers. I definitely didn't do enough hill work though. Lesson learned. If the course is hilly, do hill work. Duh. This is what the elevation chart looked like. Nothing very high, although some very steep short bursts, but the hills were endless.

When I pack for an extended trek in the Himalayas I know exactly what to do, what I'll need, how to prepare for any contingency. Over the years I have worked out the kinks and know what works. Since this was only my second 50k trail race, packing for the excursion was tricky. I don't have a routine yet and since I didn't have crew I had to figure out exactly what fuel and gear I would need in my drop bag. I was planning to stay the weekend so I had to make sure I covered all my bases for before and after as well. This is what pre-race jitters looked like. 

Concrete, WA is a very quiet town. I never saw more that one car at a time on the main street. This is main street on Friday at 3:30pm.

The drive to Concrete was smooth and check in at the Mt. Baker Hotel went well. I was directed to my room...Hog Heaven. There were no room numbers, just themes. I proceeded to tell the girl at the desk how appropriate that was since I was born in the year of the boar and I told her about avoiding wild pigs in the woods of Poli Poli where I train on Maui. She was from Arkansas and knows all about razor backs so I showed her my razor back necklace. We had a grand chat and I headed off to my room. When I arrived I realized Hog Heaven was not what I was expecting. I had a good laugh at myself. Somehow I was expecting something with more agricultural leanings. 

I decided to check out the route to the race start the day before so I would know where I was going in the dark. The drive was beautiful along a forested road. When I arrived at the campground I saw a couple guys who looked like trail runners. Funny how you can recognize your tribe. I asked them if they knew about the race the next day. One of them said, "yeah, a little bit...he's the race director." They had just finished marking the trail and proceeded to give me the low down on the course. They had discovered 7 downed trees and were a little concerned about people getting around them. In my head I'm picturing the small downed trees I hop over in the Makawao forest and asked them what the problem was. Turns out some are old growth trees and one is about 5 feet in diameter. Being 5'2" myself I'm wondering how the heck I'm going to get over that! 

The cutoff for the Baker Lake 50k was 10 hours for regular start and an option for an early start with a cutoff of 11 hours. Based on my times in my long training runs I opted for the early start with a 6am check in time so I arose at 3:30 giving myself plenty of time to wake up, fuel up, pack the car and drive the 20 minutes to the start. I was so glad I had checked the route the day before because it was extremely foggy and I could barely see parts of the road. But the fog cleared, I got checked in and the race began. 

About a third of the 200 people in the race did the early start and I was lucky enough to end up right behind a couple of women around my age who were using the same plan I had; power hike the uphills and run the down hills. They were super friendly women and had a good steady pace that worked for me. Turns out one of them had just done a 200 mile race 2 weeks earlier and they both had run and paced several 100 and 200 milers. It was fascinating listening to their stories about the ultra running world and I felt so fortunate to be able to tag along and learn from them. Also, since they knew each other they were doing most of the talking so I could puff and wheeze happily behind them without having to talk much. 
The trail was glorious. I was happy. We were surrounded by a fairytale forest of old growth cedars and Douglas Fir, lichen, moss and ferns. There were chanterelles, amanita, and oyster mushrooms. It was surprisingly quiet, not many birds singing even as the sun rose but that could have been due to the cold. This is the first race I've done where I didn't peel a single layer and I kept my ears covered with my buff. The temperature, the damp and the shade of the trees kept the average at 48°. In Yakima, while training, I would peel my long sleeve and run in my tank top when it was 48-50° but it's dry there and this damp forest felt like a refrigerator. 

The downed trees were a challenge but nothing like I expected. Turns out the 5 foot diameter was at the base of the tree and what crossed the path was nowhere near that. We had to scramble under one and over several but all in all they didn't cause a huge delay.
A couple miles from the turn-around I dropped behind my buddies. I had to walk about 1.5 miles in order to...how to put this delicately...in order to avoid having to take a solitary walk further into the bushes. For some reason my usual fuel of roasted tiny potatoes and kalamata olives was not sitting right with me so I wasn't fueling properly and was looking forward to the protein shake that was waiting in my drop bag. Or so I thought. Turns out I had grabbed the baggie with my straight protein and recovery powder, post race fuel. It was not the full meal shake I was hoping for but I drank it anyway. I downed a hand full of potato chips, drank a couple cups of Coke, sucked up an E-shot and a Pickle Juice and headed back out. I felt renewed and strong and set a strong pace for the return. As usual the beauty of the trail turned out to be more important to me than the pace so I had to stop for some more snap shots. 

A couple miles later I caught up with my buddies and once again fell into their steady rhythm of power hike and run. Then it started getting grueling. Then my monkey mind started grumbling. 

Not another hill?!
When is this going to end?!
F*#k Bryce Canyon, I'm done with this s#@t!
Ooo, look at those mushrooms! 
Ooo, look at that moss! (no matter the level of pain, I always appreciate the beauty) 

I started to drop behind my buddies. I mostly kept them in sight but as the last miles stretched out I walked more than they did and soon no longer heard their chatter. I passed a few people which made me feel better and was passed by a couple as well. When I finally reached the end of the trail and knew I only had 1.6 miles of road left I was ecstatic. It's all downhill from here...NOT! When the race started I would have sworn that the road to the trail was ALL uphill but apparently not. I had a good jog down then had 2 more bloody hills to climb on pavement before I jogged back into the finish. 

The clock showed 8:48. My Garmin showed 8:22 moving time so only 26 minutes were spent snapping photos, fueling up and visiting the porta-potty. I finished only 5 minutes behind my super experienced running buddies so overall I was pretty proud of myself. And I was SORE. And I was RAVENOUS. The race directors put on a fantastic party with burgers, pulled pork, coleslaw, 3 different homemade soups, tons of salty and sweet snacks and loads of beer. 

Oh, so healthy.

I saw no bears

I ate and drank very little during the race. Definitely not enough to properly fuel myself. I had completely forgotten that I had a meal bar in my pack that I could have eaten in place of the potatoes and olives. Because it was cold I didn't think enough about water. I made it through the last 10 miles on 16 ounces of Tailwind but returned with my hydration bladder still half full. I've read so much about ultra running and watched so many documentaries and I know that anything can happen during a race. It's just like mountain climbing. No matter how trained or experienced you are, you still might get altitude sickness. No matter how much you train using potatoes and olives, one day they might not work for you. And this was not even a long race. Listening to the women's stories of 200 mile races I realize just how little I've done in this ultra world. So I guess I will sign up for the Bryce Canyon 60k for my 60th birthday. What the heck. If nothing else I'll have a fabulous hike and more stories to tell. 

In closing, I'd like to thank all who supported my fundraising efforts by donating to Breast Cancer Prevention Partners. I believe their work is crucial in this increasingly toxic world and I appreciate your helping them in their mission to eliminate our exposure to toxic chemicals and radiation. With your help I raised $4392 and will keep my fundraising page up until Halloween in the hopes of hitting $5000 by the end of the month. 

May the road rise up to meet you and may the wind be always at your back. Happy Trails!