Siskiyou Out Back (SOB) 50K Race Report

Sunlight is just beginning to pour into the valley when we arrive at the race start. As I wait my turn in the bathroom line, I find myself dreading the day ahead. Since my taper was a series of mountain hikes and runs with friends in Alaska, I feel anything but rested. I wallow the self-doubt for a few moments, promising myself that when the race actually starts, the pity party will come to an end. To my surprise, it's comforting to let those fears bubble to the surface and my worries fade away.

The first few miles are fast as I try to avoid the bottleneck as we funnel onto narrow singletrack of the PCT. We climb briefly through the forest and then pop out into a meadow choked with wildflowers. I pull aside to snap a few pictures and as I rejoin the pack, I find myself running behind Chris, one of my local trail buddies. Following behind someone on the dusty trail makes my lungs angry and I wonder how long I should stick with him. We catch up, chatting a little bit, but I soon find his pace is a little too much effort for me and I drop back.

As we approach the first aid station, I hear cowbells in the distance. We must be getting close. I begin scanning the hillside for its location but soon realize the cowbell is coming from down below in the meadow. Cowbells ring from the necks of actual cows. For a moment, I'm transported back to the first day hiking into Switzerland. Matt spent most of the morning eschewing my idea that the sound we heard echoing off the mountainsides was actually from a cow. Coupled with the intense mountainous beauty, parts of this course could pass for Switzerland. I'll have to ask Matt if he saw the cows this time.

By mile five, I've finally found my pace for the day. On a long uphill near mile seven, I begin power hiking next to a man whose stride is twice as long as mine. If there's one thing that has truly improved my trail running game it's that I'm one strong power hiker on steep hills. I'm surprised that I'm able to spot Chris a minute ahead of me. He must have slowed after he left me, too. He'll stay just out of my reach for the next twenty miles, but I make it my goal to keep him as near as possible.

I take the opportunity to break open my package of Oreos and stuff a few in my mouth as I continue on the uphill slog that is pretty much the first half of this race. I share a few with the runner next to me and we spend the next few miles running together, chatting about our local races. He's from Grants Pass and as it turns out, I remember him from the Enchanted Forest Half last September. I always enjoy moments like this when I realize how small our little running world truly is.

Even though the name implies out and back, it's not quite. The second half is a little longer than the first.

Nearing halfway, my energy level still hasn't improved. My legs are still heavy. I glance down at my watch and notice I'm running well under the pace I need to PR, reminding myself that of course, that means pretty much nothing this early in the day. If you can make it to halfway at about an 11:00/mi pace, you've probably got it, I tell myself.

I reach the halfway aid station in 2:47, make my only water stop of the day and then head out. Since this is the high point on the course, most of the remainder is downhill. My legs enjoy a delicious smooth gravel road for the next few miles and for the first time in the race, I'm feeling good.

Expansive views of the Rogue Valley spread out before me. Focusing mostly on the rocky cliffs and more technical terrain, I catch only glimpses of the true beauty of the area. My body protests with each tiny uphill. The higher altitude makes my heart patter, but not in the good way. Fine body, we can walk. I power hike many of the uphills but find I'm still keeping pace with those running.

PCT day and through hikers stop to let us pass, some snapping photos of all of the runners. A running race overlapped with a backpacking trip once, it's actually really fun to spectate a race that way! It's great to have cheerleaders on the most lonely parts of the course and I notice my energy levels rise as I pass more of them.

I spot the aid station at mile 22 and notice Chris stopped for water. I sneak by quickly, knowing well that he's competitive enough to beat me if he sees me coming. The aid volunteer directs me onto the right path, shouting out that it's four miles of uphill from here and I'm on my way.

I remember back to the first time I ran this course. Those uphill miles completely unraveled me in a way I do not want to experience again. But this time is different. The first two miles actually have a lot of downhill in them and since I'm running in a large gap between groups, I begin wondering if I made a wrong turn somewhere.

Just as I'm about to turn back, the climbing begins. Okay, here we go. Don't let the mountain beat you today, I coach myself. In order to distract myself from the long slog, I alternate walking and jogging to fixed points on the trail. Even the tiniest of uphills reduces my pace to a crawl. My heartbeat echoes in my head so loudly that I'm convinced it's someone's footsteps behind me. I pull over to let them pass several times before I realize nobody is there.

Uphill running at 7,000 ft. looks slightly blurry like this photo.

The next tree, the next rock, the next person. Just about the time I get really sick of climbing, I reach the top. I throw my arms in the air and call out FINALLY! I accidentally startle the guy behind me and then dash off downhill, slightly embarrassed by my enthusiastic outburst. From here, I catch brief glimpses of the radar tower atop Mt. Ashland. The finish line draws nearer.

At mile 27, a long, three mile descent appears. I can see runners ahead of me weaving through the meadows on the mountainside. I glance down at my watch for the first time since halfway. Five hours. Wait. FIVE HOURS?! It is then I finally realize that I could walk it in and beat my goal. I notice tears welling up in my eyes. I whisper to myself, Oh my gosh Karen, look at how strong you've become, as if saying it out loud will make it more real.

I smile a great toothy grin as I dash through the wildflowers, my pace accelerating with each passing moment. Just as my energy begins to fade again, I hear the first place 50 mile racer flying down the hill. Ben, the course record holder on my 30K race, dashes by en route to a new course record here. (The second place finisher, Hal Koerner, was over thirty minutes behind him.) So light and quick, he appears to float down the mountain. With renewed excitement, I try to pick up the pace even more.

The last half mile is uphill and reduces me to a very slow walk. I pass a couple familiar faces and then spot Matt just before the crest of the hill. He points out a man in a lawn chair up ahead and says that's the top.

As I hand off the camera, he tells me to kick. "The girl just ahead of you is flagging, you can catch her!" he coaches. I love that we know each other so well that we can find just the right thing to say. I close out the final mile of my race with a 7:50 pace and over forty minutes faster than last time at the SOB (previous: 6:18:59).

5:38:29
10:54/mi.
5,000ish ft. gain 
Entire course at 5,800-7,500 ft. 

Matt ran another PR himself, finishing in 4:36.

Post Race: So let’s talk about my goal of sub-6. I don’t set soft goals for myself. Ever. More often than not, that means I fall short, but that’s okay. It’s better to set honest goals and miss them than to be OMG AWESOME every time. So when I beat my goal by a whole 22 minutes, I was extremely surprised. It almost feels like the day I got my first BQ, I still can’t believe it. I’ve been looking at that little slip of paper over and over the last couple days to prove to myself it actually happened. While this course is one of the flatter 50Ks I've done, the altitude definitely added to the overall difficulty.

Racing Tomorrow!

I don’t run a lot of two mile runs, but when I do, it’s almost always the day before or after a marathon (or longer) race, as was the case with today’s run. I'm never very fond of them, but it's nice to have something consistent to begin and conclude every training block. I should probably change this tradition to a Dairy Queen visit, right?

Pre-Run:

Grumble, grumble. I debated whether or not to skip this run entirely. It’s going to take more time to shower and get dressed than it will to run, I argued. But since Matt wasn’t due to arrive for a few more hours, I figured I didn’t have anything better to do, so I dragged my stiff jet lagged body out for an easy two.

My thoughts seesawed between Hey, that’s kinda pretty and Quit whining, legs. By the end of my first mile and a couple of photos, I was starting to feel better. I picked up the pace every minute through the second mile just to shake out the muscles that don’t get used much when I’m just trotting along at my easy pace.

Post Run:

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEndorphins! Maybe my body could be ready for a race tomorrow. I know I’m not 100% ready for this race because I spent a week away playing when I should have been resting, but I’m going to do my best and have fun.

The weather looks perfect, there aren’t nearby wildfires to clog the views and I’m stronger than I was when I ran this race three years ago (in 6:18:59).

The rest of the day will be about hydrating like a pro, hunting down a donut and some Oreos for the race, and reuniting with my beloved foam roller (oh and Matt too…. I guess..hehe.)

One day until the Siskiyou Out Back 50K! :)



(I'm planning on writing a few posts about my trip to Anchorage next week while I rest my legs.)

A Lazy Day in the Mountains

After indulging in long mountain run up Canyon Creek, Matt and I agree it best to actually start a taper so our legs are rested for SOB. Normally, I yearn for the opportunity to kick back and finally get some stuff done at home but when my travel style is much more active and I find it difficult to rest. Instead of attempting a grueling summit of Granite Peak, we shift our focus further north to a part of the Trinity Alps we've never seen. At least the slower pace of a hike will keep my restless mind occupied.

As it turns out, the drive is a bit of an adventure. Ruby Sue, our new adventuremobile, is up for the challenge and climbs the rugged fire road like a champ. Every time we pass through a particularly difficult spot, we praise her efforts, not mentioning that our tiny Focus would have pooped out on the first climb from the highway. After all, it's not nice to compare your babies. :)

We set out on our hike as a large family is packing up their gear and heading for home. We chat a little bit and can hear their bottles clink together, beer for the adults, rootbeer for the kids, as they toast to a great weekend in the wilderness. With just five miles round trip through pretty easy terrain, this trail would make the perfect beginner's backpacking trip.

We heard rumors that there are ptarmigan up here!

The gravel forest road gradually deteriorates and by the time the road has turned into a hike through a wintertime runoff stream choked with gravel and boulders, we wonder how recently this road was passable by car.  The forested route opens up briefly to a grassy meadow and I can almost make out the cirque containing our day's destination.  We dash back into the forest and my pace quickens. The lake is near! I become more excited with each passing moment.

We begin to hear voices and smell smoke with each tiny gust of wind. We arrive to another meadow and discover a group of older men smoking cigars in their lawn chairs. With the amount of gear they schlepped up the mountain, it's clear they've been here awhile. I've heard about people backpacking like this, but to me it seems like car camping with a little bit of relocation. It's an interesting concept. I'm not sure I'd like all that lounging around when there are more beautiful things to see. Maybe something for our next taper? We chat a little about the weather, whether there are fish in the lake, and then continue on to check it out ourselves.

True to her name, Tangle Blue Lake sparkles like a bowl sapphires in the midday sun. A moderate wind ripples the surface and makes it sparkle even more. Matt and I take a few moments to scope out the best lunch spot before settling down beneath a tree. Even though it has taken less than an hour to arrive from the car, the total journey on the drive and hike leave me satisfied. We have lunch and then head for home.

After a quick stop for milkshakes and curly fries (why do warm days make me crave fries!?) in Trinity Center, we make our way back to the campground. The campground is beautiful. It was built just before the California drought really began to take hold and unfortunately all of the plumbing fed from Trinity Lake, which happens to be right outside the camp. The campground has fresh asphalt, artfully constructed tent pads, and brand new facilities but because it's dry, almost nobody uses it. Matt and I have our pick of campsites and the one we chose had the perfect hammock spot.

I plan to do some yoga and then read my book, Matt eyes up the hammock. Before I can get through very many downward dogs, I'm asleep on the mat. I wish I could say this photo was staged.

I wake after a short time when the heat of the sun breaks through a crack in the forest canopy and glares in my face. I wake up to realize Matt has fallen asleep with his book, too.

That evening, we gather on the shore of the lake at a nearby campsite to watch the sunset. When we travel to places that aren't completely cloudy, we like to watch the sky change as day fades away. All around us are remnants of the storm a few days ago. We point and admire each of the clouds as they turn from orange to pink and then turn to purple as the sky turns dark.

It's the perfect end to a lovely day. We head back to camp and I finish with the yoga and then crawl into bed.

Canyon Creek Run

Sometimes the best adventures aren't carefully planned out. Sometimes they just happen. We were going to be in the mountains for the weekend, so were a couple friends. They wanted a long run and we can't turn down the offer to join in the fun. That's how we find ourselves at the Canyon Creek trailhead on this overcast Sunday morning. 

 

After a short overnight in a free (!!!! this is so rare in California) campground, a quick caffeine and sugar fix in the trail parking lot, we're ready to go. This trail has become an old friend. Since this trail has year round maintenance like snow removal, it has always been our go-to winter camping trip. Summertime is too hot for backpacking, we'd argue. I've backpacked this trail half a dozen times in the snow and had yet to see it in the summertime. On an unusual cool summer day, it's not even half as miserable as it would have been when we cancelled an earlier trip when temperatures soared into the 90s as high up as 6,000 ft. Today it's damp and about 70F. Perfect weather if you ask me. 

The climbing begins immediately and I can hardly believe it when I arrive at the stream crossing that normally takes thirty minutes to reach. Before we know it, the forest views are replaced by towering walls of granite. Adam, our token Trinity Alps newbie, stands there, agog at the beauty. Even though I've seen all these views before and argue that mountains look best in the snow, I admit they look pretty darn incredible in the summertime. Bonus: my Snickers bars don't harden in the summer either.

The four of us take turns with the lead, breaking off periodically to photograph the mountain peaks and waterfalls cascading down the mountainside. It feels leisurely and playful and my legs hardly seem like they've crested the eighty mile mark this week. 

By the time we pass the two waterfalls, I begin to understand the summertime allure of this trail. Water pools beneath each waterfall into a crisp, clean and refreshing swimming hole. Visions of returning during a heatwave and backpacking in my bikini dance in my head. Heck, I might even consider hauling up a floatie or beach towel. 

Our run turns into a brisk hike as we climb boulders and rocky staircases to the top. The first of two lakes appears. I snap a few shots and continue on, not because this lake isn't beautiful, but because I can see where the second one will be and its jagged granite peaks pull me higher through the rugged terrain.

I settle on the shore of the upper lake and pull the PB&J from my pack. I can already tell that this day will go down as one of my favorite runs ever. I take in the view while the boys play a game of "No, you go first" before they dive into the lake. Being that the day is cooler than normal, the occasional gust of wind makes us reluctant to swim. Adam goes first. Then Jeff. Matt follows and then it's my turn. The boys count me down.  "5..4....3...2..." SPLASH. The water is warmer than their reluctance led me to believe. I slip out of the water and the warm, dry alpine air quickly goes to work at warming me back up. We finish our snacks and then make our way back down.

The return trip turns out to be a bit of technical run training. I hear Adam and Jeff bounding down the mountain behind me, our steps synching up as a single unit.

We take turns almost falling, but nobody ends up eating dirt. It's always a good day in the mountains when that happens.

A white film forms on the air and slowly raindrops begin to fall. Each shower is brief and refreshing.  The rocky trail turns to dirt and my feet rejoice. The soft soil of the forest trail is like pillows underfoot. The trailhead comes as a surprise at the end of our sixteenth mile. We head to the car to pre-eat before dinner. Chips, salsa, and a few beers are consumed and then we head for pizza. Jeff and Adam disappear back to the coast while Matt and I head off to the campground on Trinity Lake. Our weekend is just beginning.

16 miles, 4:55:21, 2,894 ft. gain

Peak Weeks

Even though this training block has been a full three months, I can't believe it's already over! Just a short taper remains before the Siskiyou Outback 50K. I'm not sure on my goals for race day yet, but I'm sure it will be fun.  But first, let's talk a little about training, shall we?

June 30-July 4:
Running Miles: 63.75
Hiking Miles: 3
Runs: 6
Other: Hike (1), Yoga (3)
Kitties: 14
Notes: This week dragged a little. Since I raced on the 4th, I front-loaded my mileage. That basically means I ran a hilly 5K race and then the long run back to back. I'm sure this contributed to that sluggish feeling. It helped for the second 5K race though so no complaining here.

24.25 miles, 4:56:21, 12:15/mi., 4,100 ft. gain.
Sweat (over 80 degrees, yay). Hills. Big trees. Matt’s stories to pull me from the grumpy bonk that came on far too easily a day after a hard 5K race. 

I will never stop admiring the giants.

Sweet, sweet downhill!

Drenched in liquid awesome.

My favorite feature of the new car: tailgate=perfect chair.

A perfectly flat Humboldt Bay on an early morning run

Garden is in full swing! I love growing my own food.

July 5-11
Running Miles: 70.25
Runs: 6
Other: Strength: Core, legs, shoulders (2), Yoga (2).
Kitties: 58
Notes: This week felt so strong, I didn't want it to end....so I pushed off the taper by a day or two and got in another long mountain adventure. Every mile felt like playtime and I know I'll soon miss all the summertime trail miles once road season begins again.

Long Run : 26.25 mi.

Five and a half hours of sweating, smiles, and sharing time with a new running buddy. I love how big trees and big climbs can make me feel so small. It’s incredibly humbling. I worked through several low points (read: related to being a lady), but I made it home with a smile and a little BBQ sauce on my face.

I like Henny Penny, our rooster, better with BBQ sauce. Hey, the guy had it comin'.

12 miles, 2:05?, with gal pals Tanya, Cindi, and Lanore.

I’ve run a lot of places during my years as an athlete: roads and trails; dirt and sand; snow and ice; from home and abroad. No running route puts my life into perspective quite like the Headwaters Forest. I’m not sure how to describe it but each visit feels like a religious experience.

I am in such awe and energized by this gorgeous place and cherish the repeated opportunity to have not only the strength to make it here myself, but to be able to share it with those I hold most dear to me. If there’s one thing I wish for all of you it is that I hope you find a place that gives you this same feeling.

10 mi, 1:20:56, 8:05/mi. 6 middle miles @ 7:30-7:50

Nailed it!! First three miles of half-full marathon pace were with wind, second into the wind. Mile 7 was spent following a pickup kicking up dust everywhere. I felt my throat and lungs close up a little bit, otherwise the run felt really strong. A little bit of pace work during the summer will definitely set me up for a strong fall season. :)

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Fall Racing Plan: As we head into the taper, thoughts of course turn to the fall. Matt and I will begin our fall training with a short half marathon cycle. By running some half marathon paced runs, it will make the transition to marathon pace runs go smoothly and hopefully set us up for a couple new PRs. Races will include The Rogue Run, Humboldt Redwoods Half Marathon, and another CIM (I will start praying for good weather now).