Tag Archives: Go Farther

Summary: Hot. Steep. Finished. Ready.

Strava details.

The Mt. Diablo Trail Marathon. Yes, it was a Devil’s Day out there.

I expected to finish around 5.5 hours – with 6000’ of climbing and a slow approach to the day, I figured a 12:00 min/mile pace was reasonable and would leave me plenty of gas of the tank. This was a last training run before the Tahoe 200, and a chance to try out my newest assembly of gear.

Get on your Game Face!

Race Objectives:

• Finish easy and strong: This race is about half of what I’ll need to do every day for four days at the Tahoe 200, so if I’m withering at the end of 26.2 miles and 6000’ of climbing, that’s not good.
• Stay healthy: Don’t injure or strain any muscles, joints, ligaments or tendons, and don’t create an extended recovery time. I’ve got 11 days until the Tahoe 200 starting line. No reason to overdo on a training run this close to the race start.
• Test my new gear: Trekking poles, a backpack with a hydration kit and all of the required gear (i.e. rain gear) I’ll carry for the Tahoe 200. I’m pretty I was the only runner out there with rain gear packed with them. (Lena joked that I should have taken it out and put it on at one of the rest stops.) The fully-loaded pack is 10 lbs, so that’s some extra weight for both the climbs and descents on the course.
• Self-support: The Tahoe 200 has plenty of 15-20 mile stretches with no aid stations or water. I wanted to see how long 2 liters of water plus water bottles with nutrition plus real food would last.
• Nutrition Plan: I was trying out Tailwind + Clif Bars. I used it a bit at The Ridge 60k two weeks ago, but later in the day. Today, I was starting with it to see if I’d respond differently. Usually I use 3Fu3l for the first 4-6 hours, then switch to a higher carb mix like Tailwind. I do really, really well with 3Fuel and so I just wanted to see if there was a noticeable difference by going with Tailwind.
• Foot Care: Avoid blisters and hot spots, and treat them quickly if any pop up.

Pre-Race:

Complete with rain gear. You know, for those 100-degree August days on Mt. Diablo.

My super duper crew.

I had company today! Lena and Benjamin came out there with me, which was AWESOME! So much fun to share these days with them. Parking was right there at the race starts – no shuttles or long walks. Woohoo!

We arrived about an hour before race start. I grabbed my stuff and geared up in the [long]  bathroom line. Only three stalls and no Port-o-Johns out there, but the line moved fast and the bathrooms where very clean.

I collected my gear and then Benjamin participated in the Kids’ Run – a 50-yard sprint – then I headed to the starting line. No hiccups in the race prep. I wanted to keep it relaxed and mellow, treating the day as just another training run.

Race Start & The First Climb (miles 1-9)

The first two miles were a nice easy incline. I jogged out slowly until mile 3 when the course inflected upwards and the hiking began. There were some pretty steep sections which made even a light jog difficult so I focused on using my trekking poles and establishing a rhythm. I need to get used to 17:00-20:00 miles because I’ll have lots of those (and then some) in two weeks.

I skipped the first aid station at mile 5 after 2000’ of climbing and kept going to the peak at mile 7. Specular views atop Mt. Diablo from an observation deck, which I took in for all of five seconds, then back down to the same aid station at mile 9. I filled up one nutrition bottle and then headed down to the bottom of the mountain.

Descent #1 (miles 9-13.5)

The downhill was equally steep, which was frustrating. With the 10 lbs of weight plus the steepness, my knees were taking a beating. I keep my steps short and used my poles to take some of the weight off my joints.  I did bust my ass one time on a particularly steep grade. I lost my footing and slid. Nothing terrible, and a good lesson to stay patient and to feel a fall because I’m sure I’ll have a couple of those…

Once down at the mile 13 aid station, I plopped down to change my socks. My feet were pretty dusty – I was wearing Injinji no-show socks and no gaiters, so with the sliding and direct, my feet got dirty quickly. (I’ll definitely be wearing gaiters in Tahoe, plus probably an overpair of socks to reduce on dust and particles. I rewarded myself with a few Peanut M&Ms and some stretching, then heading out for the second half of the day.

The next couple of miles where slight rolling hills where I could jog on the single track and fire trails, and generally make some good progress before the next big climb.

Climb #2 (miles 13-21)

This is where I wanted to quit. Around mile 16, the day was heating up. The high temperature was forecast for 105, and it was already well into the 90s by now. I had been out there 4+ hours and knew I had a lot of work to do – another 2000’ of climbing.  I stopped and did some breathing exercises which helped for the next mile, then got myself to the mile 17 aid station.

Me: “What’s the course like from here?”

Aid Station Volunteer: “Up.”

F&ck. Another 2.9 miles up – more climbing on top of the climbing.

Taken around mile 8. Definitely wasn’t so chipper 10 miles later…

At mile 18, I, sat down on the course for a minute again. My groin muscles started cramping and I wanted to quit. Okay. Here it was. The real test of why I was out there.

But I couldn’t quit, more than anything because I was in the middle of nowhere and it’s not like I could hop in an Uber and head to the finishing area. This was the mental test I needed to just keep going.

I could feel the heat coming off the rocks and ground, as much of the course was exposed with nothing but yellow grass all around. Every so often, an oasis of trees covered the course for 20 yards or so and breeze would blow. When I noticed the breeze, I took off my hat to let my head cool down and to try to enjoy whatever relief was available. I passed a few racers along this stretch – people walking even on the flats. I had a couple of small mental and physical peaks in there. They were short-lived, but noticeable and that made me feel good about my overall fitness to feel that jolt of positive energy.

I kept drinking fluids – rotating water and nutrition and slowly and reached the mile 21 aid station.  By then, I was feeling pretty tired so I sat down for a few minutes to relax and take in a Coca-Cola. The climbing was done for me. (The 50k course headed all the way back up to the mountain peak 1000’ up from there.) Just five miles down to the finish. I knew the five miles would be steep, so that meant another hour. I was already at 5.5 hours, so a good hour behind what I expected going into the day.

The Final Descent (miles 21-26.2)

Mile 21 was on a single track with some mellow undulations, then I hit a 2-mile stretch that was as steep going down as it was going up because, well, it was the same trail… I used it as a chance to practice more with my trekking poles and thought about getting down to under two miles left where I knew the course leveled off and I could jog it in.

Once down to mile 24.5, I hit the more even terrain but was feeling pretty tired and ready to be  done for the day. I did a walk-jog strategy – jogging for 100 count, then walking for a 50-count. I extended the 100 count to sets of 2-3 and kept plodding along. I was hovering at 15:00 min/mile pace overall. I passed a hiker coming up the trail who said – “One mile to go…” I kept the rhythm and passed one last racer with about 1/4 mile to go. I jogged it in across the finish and was happy to be done at 6:35.

Lena and Benjamin were there, along with Kim and her kids.  All I could say was – “Oh man. Sorry that took so long.”

Six and half hours. That was a long day. For context, two weeks ago, I ran 39 miles in 6:32 at The Ridge 60k– an extra 13 miles in the same time as these 26 miles took today.

After dumping my gear and dosing my head at a water spigot, I heard my name called –

“Scott Sambucci – Age Group, First place.”

What? Really? Wow. The patience paid off. Don’t know how many were in my age group – probably fewer than ten, but one must be present to win. My first 1st-place age group medal. Nice.

My first Age Group win.

Recovery

Once home, I showered then stretched for a good 30 minutes – lacrosse ball and foam roller – across my leg muscles then took a 16-minute ice bath to reduce any swelling and help with recovery.

I felt good the rest of the day. I little bit of stiffness as the night wore on, but overall I felt limber and good. I slept through the night and today I feel good. A little sore, but definitely good.

What I Learned:

• Nutrition: Definitely going back to 3Fuel for the first few hours. I didn’t feel badly or have any adverse effects to Tailwind. Just feels like I do better with 3Fuel at the start, plus switching in the day keeps my palette fresher.
• Patience: There were some looooong climbs out there. That’s just the way it is. Keep moving forward. For every steep grade, there’s relief. Eventually. It’s good to know that I’ve experienced slow miles and could do a race without racing or worrying about my finishing time.
• Gear: I LOVE my trekking poles. So, so, so awesome. Worth every penny. I couldn’t self-support for the day because of the heat, but I feel good about what I can carry if the temperature is 20-30 degrees cooler.
• Fitness: That I was out there in 100 degree heat, finished strong with very little soreness is really super. I’m as ready as I can be for the Tahoe 200. Let’s do this.

Results

If I look pretty proud of myself in this photo, because I was. :0)

I’m a happy guy after 32.76 miles on the trail

I took 2nd in my AG and 6th overall with a time of 5:47. Going in, I absolutely wanted to finish under 6:00, and thought that a sub-5:30 shouldn’t been a problem. Had I run exactly 31 miles, I would have bagged a 5:30, but alas, my Garmin showed that I ran nearly 33 miles because of the course and missing a turn. The overall pace per mile is more important to me than the total time.

For the data geeks out there, here are the mile-by-mile details from my Garmin.

Most importantly, I felt GREAT at the finish. Yes, I was tired and cramping, but no injuries or physical issues during the race, or in the days after. I took Sunday and Monday off, did a light four miles on Tuesday, a harder six on Wednesday and turned out a solid Cross-Fit workout this AM to celebrate my birthday.

Doing Difficult Things

Tucking my son into bed on Friday night, I told him – “Tomorrow morning, I’m going to leave early and won’t be here in the morning. I’m going to do a race and I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

“I don’t want you to go. Do you have to?”

“I want to go.”

“Why do you want to do?”

“Because sometimes you have to do difficult things.”

“Why?”

“To make yourself a better person.”

“Why does it make you a better person?”

“Because when you do hard things, it makes you work really hard to see how well you can do. Next time, you guys can come with me.”

That’s probably the closet I’ve come to answering a question I get a lot – “Why do you do these races?”

Race day is an evaluation, a checkpoint. It’s the culmination of months of training and a chance to see how hard I’ve really worked compared to how hard I think I’ve work, and to see that hard work payoff – the intervals, Kettle bell swings, box jumps, Wall Balls, eating well and maintaining discipline each week.

Less than two months ago, I was hampered by hamstring problems and an overall sense of stiffness. I committed in April to fixing myself with dietary changes and taking time for my Self to visit my doctors about the state of my health. I jammed in workouts at lunch and planned long hilly runs in San Francisco, running up Hyde Street and Divisadero just because they were the steepest hills I could find.

Races test my focus and mettle – how much do I want to improve and be well. How badly do I want to finish a race to feel that sense of completion?

I guess that’s why I do these, but I still don’t really know…

“Am I really going to do this?”

Then race morning happens.

I slept horribly Friday night, tossing and turning, waking up at 3:30, thirty minutes my 4:00am alarm. Laying in bed, I asked myself – “Am I really going to do this?”

But I pulled myself out of bed.

I grabbed my gear and hopped in the car. I was barely out of my neighborhood and I thought to myself – “Am I really going to do this? Am I going to drive an hour an a half at 4:30 am just to run 30+ miles over 5500’ of hills?”

Then the song “Try Anything” played from my music list.

When the race started and I heard my Garmin beep the first mile, and I asked myself – “Am I really doing this? Am I really going to do this 30 more times over the next 5-6 hours?”

But I had already started. Just keep going.

At the mile 12 aid station preceding a five-mile climb to the turnaround point, I asked myself – “Am I really going to do this?”

Yep. Just get to the turn-around and I’ll have this course licked.

And so it goes. Moment by moment. Segment by segment. Mile by mile.

A Brush with Greatness

About fifteen minutes before the race start, I saw Dean Karnazes. The dude grabbed a racing bib. He was racing! Really cool. It’s one part of endurance racing that I love, whether it’s Ironmans or ultra-marathons, everyone races the same exact course. No one escapes the same test.

Dean was very chill with people talking with him and taking photos. Seemed like he knew of the amateur racers there. I walked up and said – “Dude. This is so cool that you’re out here.”

That’s Dean just ahead of me.

He said, “Well, I was in town and I figured what the heck? We’ll run some miles out there together today.”  I wanted to snag a photo but it was less than ten minutes from the race start, and I felt like he deserved a little space.

I ran near him for the first two miles until the 50k/50-mile course split and that was the last I saw him for the day. He finished the 50-miler in 10:22, a solid effort for a guy that probably hasn’t done any hard training or competitive racing in a long time. “Ho-hum. I guess I’ll knock out a 50-miler with 10,000’ of climbing today…”

The Course

It’s and out and back course, starting at Fort Cronkite in the Marin Headlands, over a long climb to Tennessee Valley, over another climb down to Pirate’s Cove and out to Muir Beach. From there, it’s a five-mile climb up Cardiac to the turnaround a few miles before Stinson Beach.

Heading down to Pirate’s Cove

I like the out-and-back because I knew that once I reached the turnaround, the biggest climb was behind me and I knew exactly where I was on the course on the way back. Mentally, it made the second half much easier mentally and physically.

Funny Story of the Day

A few years ago after I finished 13th in a half-marathon trail run. A couple years later, I finished 5th overall in that same race. Since then, I can’t help but to pay attention to my race position. I never expect to win a race, but I know that if I’m fit and run a good race, I can finish near the top of my age group and in the top 10-15% of all racers. I think of myself as being the slowest of the fast racers, or  maybe more like being one of the fastest of the slow people.

This was a small race, about thirty racers each for the 50k and 50-mile course – so it was pretty easy to know where I was relative to the field.

I started the race bunched with a pack of 5-6 runners. Occasionally we’d run together (and miss a course turn together, adding another 3/4 mile to the course for us), then we’d break apart on the climbs when two of the guys pushed harder on the uphills. I’d see these two guys at the next aid station, heading out just as I was pulling in. I kept my stops short to reduce dead time on the clock.

Around mile 14, I saw the the lead runner heading down the mountain. By the time I hit the turnaround at mile 16.5, I only remembered counting 3-4 racers passing by me on the way back down, and I saw two faster guys from our pack still at the stop. I’d caught up to them again. I quickly refilled my nutrition, then jumped in the port-o-john then headed back down to scoot ahead of them.

I knew from an earlier stretch that I was a notch faster than both of them on the flats and gradual downhills, while they were faster on the steep descents and uphills. The next five miles were all downhill and I knew that with a push, I could build a cushion before the last two climbs where they would make up time on me.

I hammered along this stretch, dropping 7:58-7:53-8:16 in consecutive miles and feeling really, really strong. I checked back up the hill every once in a while and never got a glimpse – my strategy was working! I love it when a plan comes together.

At the bottom of the descent, I approached the next aid station which marked about 13 miles to go. By then, I felt a little thrashed from the push but excited that the last part of the race was ahead. I unscrewed my nutrition bottle and looked ahead across a pedestrian bridge leading to the next climb.

Guess who I saw? Yup.

They must have started AHEAD of me from the turnaround when I jumped in the port-a-john. F&ck. It was a little depressing at the time, and pretty funny now that I look back at it.

All in all, it was a good thing. Mentally in that stretch, I was running from ahead, which forced me to push more aggressively. Had I known they were ahead of me, I might have pulled back thinking there was no way for me to catch them. That wrong information push pushed me to work harder than I would have otherwise and test myself.

The Finish

The last 9-10 miles were a tough slog, but because I knew the course from the day and previous races, I was able to break the remaining miles into 2-3 mile chunks.

I worked back to the Tennessee Valley rest stop (~mile 25) where the station worker told me I had five miles to go. That just didn’t see right. I knew the very last aid station was two miles from the finish, and ain’t no way that station was only three miles from this point. She said she was sure, but  I still didn’t believe her.

I’m glad I didn’t. There were, in fact, seven miles to go from that aid station. I pulled into the last station only to see another racer from the early pack right on my heals. I hadn’t seen her the last ten miles and was really surprised to see her pushing. Dammit. Now I had to hammer the last two miles of rolling hills.

I did hammer, dropping back into a sub-8:00 mile pace for the last mile to make sure she didn’t pass me. I didn’t care that she was a she. I just couldn’t have someone pass me that late in any race on principle. One of my strengths is my ability to pace myself and finish strong, and having anyone sneak by me after five and half hours out there is unacceptable.

I finished the race about two minutes ahead of her, delightfully accepted by medal for my 2nd place AG finish, packed up and headed home. My race was done.

Training Regimen & Diet

The results from training continue to surprise me. I’ve been running 20-30 mile WEEKS, and finished a 33-mile DAY with 5500’ of climbing. My longest run since January was 12.5 miles two weeks ago.

I’m a devout believer in three aspects to my training:

1 – Diet & Nutrition: Mostly low carb throughout the week with one cheat day on Saturday. I dropped into a Paleo diet for four weeks in April. The week prior to the race, I upped my fat intake and have been eating fruit as a carb source these past couple of weeks.

Race morning, I ate three scrambled eggs and two bananas before the race, then only used 3fu3l nutrition throughout the race. It wasn’t until the mile 26 aid station that I ate any solid food – 3Fuel only to that point. My body’s adapted to fat-burning mode so I don’t need much food or calories during the race.

2 – Run Intervals: Nearly all of my runs include dropping into regular speed work intervals, ranging from 1-minute drops every mile to 1/4 to 1/2 mile intervals with a 1/2 to 1-meirest between. This cooks my legs and pushes my heart rate. I feel like I get as much from a 8-10 mile run with intervals as I used to get from a 15-mile long run at a steady pace. Much more efficient.

3 – Cross-Fit & Weightlifting: I’ve long subscribed to this approach, and really focused on this during last year’s Uberman training. Oddly, I’m most sore post-race in my UPPER body, which is awesome. It means that I’m recruiting all of my body to run. I’ve got a strong core and upper body (for an endurance athlete…) and I felt strong enough to drop a 7:47 mile at mile 30, and finished the last mile at a 7:30 pace.

What’s Next?

I’ve got my sights on a 100-miler this year. That was the original goal back in March, which got pushed back from injury. The Pine-to-Palm 100 looks incredibly hard.

This week, the Uberman race director pinged me to see if I’d like to join a relay team as their runner. Damn. He had to send me that email… Going back to do the Badwater course is still in my crawl. I just may need to do that.

In the mean time, I’m volunteering at the Western States 100 mile 65 aid station to experience that race first hand.