My training hasn't been going so well -- I'm having trouble getting back
into my pre-stress fracture condition. If something isn't working, change
it. So, what the heck, I decided to take some days off, and run a race up
North.
The Double Dipsea race in the woods north of San Francisco has been going
strong for about 40 years. It's mostly trail, a shade under 14 miles, an
out and back course from Stinson Beach to Mill Valley. It has about 4400
feet of climb, and about 1300 steps.
See http://www.doubledipsea.com/racemaps.html for map and profile.
It's a handicap race, with the older and fairer runners starting first, and
the young men starting last. So the start of the race is a series of mini
starts, as in "OK, 50-55 women start in 2 minutes!" My handicap at age 55
gave me a 20 minute head start, or about 1:30/mile over the scratch runners.
That's about how much slower I run mountain races these days, so it seems
fair to *me* anyway.
Needless to say, this brings out the good masters and women runners, because
anyone can win, and the leader board will have both men and women of various
ages happily cohabitating. May the best WAVA score win.
It was a perfect day as I took the scenic drive to the race. It was clear
and cool at 7:00 am, but it would get hot under the solstice sun in a couple
of hours. The panoramic sweep of the ocean below and the hills above made
this one of the most scenic drives ever for me.
When the first group took off (70-75 women), I started my 2 mile warm-up
jog, then lined up with the 20 or 30 guys in my age division. One guy took
off like a rocket, and I wrote him off (he ended up something like 6th
overall). Within about a mile and a half I'd burned off the others, but
while chatting with one guy I learned that there are 4-5 major short cuts on
the course, and that it's legal to take them! Know thy course.
I was already running pretty hard (there's a 1300' climb in the first 3
miles), and in a mostly 3 step breathing rhythm, with some excursions into 2
step. Soon we were passing some of the older and earlier starting runners.
This felt strange, a real change from the expanding universe effect at the
start of a normal race. People are coming back to you from the start.
At 3 miles I saw a guy ahead of me cut over a grassy berm -- must be one of
the shortcuts. I passed on following him. As I rounded a curve a couple of
minutes later, one of the 55 year olds I'd left behind me was 200 yards
ahead of me! Damn! I noted the exit of the short cut, and vowed to catch
it on the way back. Took me a half mile to reel that guy back in. Having
so many people to pass was encouraging, and I got a little energy hit each
time.
The surface was challenging and does not play to my strengths. 1300 steps
of varying tread widths, 2.3 million roots, a jillion rocks, and the odd
board embedded in the trail. I cannot run fast over this stuff, and slowed
to a crawl over a lot of the course, hardly breathing. As soon as a
runnable section appeared, I accelerated and ran at 10k effort. So the race
for me was like a fartleck run. At some points a nimble footed gal I'd
passed earlier would close on me, and as soon as I could open up my stride,
I'd take off at a low 6 minute clip and put a lot of distance on my pursuer.
The slowest part of the course was the 500+ steps down to the turn around in
Mill Valley. Probably 10 folks passed me down those stairs who I'd easily
passed earlier on the runnable parts of the course. I just said "see you
later" to myself. I was in about 30th place at the turn around, and blasted
off to attack the stairs back up, where horsepower, not nerve was king. I
went apes**t on the climb out of the valley and it was payback time for all
except for a couple elites. My plan was to ease up on the next downhill,
and attack the last 3 miles of the course. I was in about 20th place now,
and feeling good about my prospects.
Unfortunately, pride goeth before the fall. By this time I was alone, and I
came to a fork in the road. There was a flourescent ribbon on the right, so
I went right. I found my self climbing but I didn't remember this on the
way up. After a couple of minutes I found myself joining a gaggle of
runners who'd been 5+ minutes behind me! Geez! That was a real bummer.
Ok, Dan, pass them again. So I poured it on and passed as many as I could,
but I could see familiar rear ends ahead of me that I'd passed earlier, and
I knew I wasn't going to see those butts again until the finish. There
wasn't enough time (and runnable miles of trail) to catch them. 5-6 minutes
is a lot of time to lose in the last 3 miles of a race.
I did catch the shortcut on the way back that I'd missed earlier, and low
and behold, got back about 30 seconds. I caught up with another couple of
runners just before the nasty steep steps in the woods, so sat behind them
as they pulled away from me. I was able to catch up on the next runnable
section, and the three of us (my partners were a 35 year old guy who was
prematurely gray, and 40 year old woman) ran together until the very end.
Fortunately, we saw someone duck off into a hidden trail shortcut, and we
followed running as fast as we could through dizzying serpentine rutted
trail, thrashing the encroaching brush and jumping crevasses and rocks like
there was no tomorrow.
Finally we hit the road, with about 600 yards to the finish at the beach,
and it was every man for himself. The young guy took off fast, and I let
him get 15 yards on me. The gal was somewhere behind me. The kid was
kicking his heels pretty high, he's running real hard, but I was having a
hard time finding high gear: I was nauseated from the effort (as I'd been
for the last couple of miles), and worried that I'd start gagging and have
to slow. With about 50 yards to go I said what the heck, and blasted off.
Turns out I had a *lot* left in my kick, and nearly caught him in that short
distance. Note to self: No matter how bad you feel, blast off in the last
150 yards!
Wow, what a race! I finished 33rd overall, and would have probably been
20-ish but for the extra loop I ran. San Francisco has the toughest bunch
of runners -- it's not unusual as in this race, for the top 5% of finishers
to be at about 80% wava. Maybe next year, with some speedwork, a few less
lbs, and no wrong turns I can crack the top 15-20. This one's on the
calendar.
Stats: 1:25 (including extra 5-6 bonus minutes), place 33/350-400, 2nd
55-59.
Gratitude Department: No falls or even stumbles, just a couple of near
ankle-twists from moving rocks on pushoff. Almost zero soreness.
Cool sights of the day:
Many toned (and friendly!) women of all ages.
Driving through a mysterious ground fog then seeing a crop duster zip by at
an altitude of 30 feet.
Then a few miles later, an egret rising from the banks and giving me a
flyover at the same altitude.
-- Dan