Some days you go out to burn the barn and you end up setting the whole damn farm aflame.
All these dang loopty loops around the track over the last few weeks left me itching for a big day out. To hell with the speed block, sometimes you have to feed the snot nosed gremlin on your shoulder that whispers sour nothings into your ear. This loop seemed to have a pretty consistent elevation profile to the upcoming race, so I figured it would be a nice fitness check in.
Right as I was to set off I met a man named Keith. 71 years young, training for the Leadville 100. Fuck that would jazz me up more than any of the 200mg caffeine gels holstered in my running vest. I convinced him to take a route to the beach and hoped I might catch him.
Climbing would feel so-so all day, but I was happy with it overall. The goal was to push up climbs and then try to recover on anything else, but by half way I would just be holding on for dear life on the steep ones.
An absolute stunner of a day and there were loads of recreators out and about which was so fun to see and even more fun when they would cheer me on.
The recent storms certainly left a bit of carnage out there, but it’s not so easy to tell what was new and what was old. There were at least 20 downed branches, large trees and debris which would add some extra zest to the route.
I set off with one full flask and would stop at coast camp to drink about 300ml and then fill both flasks.
The rolling section along the beach was easily my favorite. The views were spectacular and the rolling terrain felt comfortable. I would end up seeing Keith and we had a nice exchange before splitting ways.
The last fill would be at Wildcat. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring a third flask, the Solomon filter flask that I wanted to test out. After Wildcat it’s a 20 mile stretch with no water fills, other than steams or whatever else you can find, so I decided to bring the Precision 300g flow gel packet and try to use that as a flask. It surprisingly worked extremely well. I would really need it in those last miles.
All in all the trail conditions were pretty good, until that last 8 or so miles. Just as I was starting to think I might get away without a single fall, they would start coming with a vengeance. I’ve never post holed in mud like that before. Thank the gods the ground was so mushy and I didn’t tweak my knee or ankle. On the worst fall, I was churning down a section at sub 7 minute pace only to get slingshoteded into the muck, leaving a clear body print in the mud. You could likely identify it was me by the dental prints I left. Mud, at least the kind found in Point Reyes, doesn’t taste very good and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have much of a carbohydrate profile.
After that one I would be a bit spooked that I had hurt my back. That coupled with the ripe fatigue setting in and the bog-like trails would slow me down a good bit.
I settled in to a manageable pace and then gave a little diesel at the end when I saw sub 5 hours was in reach. Nothing like an arbitrary time goal to motivate you.
Mucho amor
jojo