American River 50 2018: raging waters for a change!

I ran my first American River 50-mile in 2008 and every subsequent year but last year when I ran, or rather walked, the 100K Nationals that weekend. I was therefore excited to toe the line for the 10^th time, although it wouldn't have been for my 10th finish as I had a DNF there with a pretty severe asthma crisis in 2009. I actually had a few bad years with respiratory issues but still managed to break 7 hours 3 times, quite mixed results then.

I have to say that I've never felt so unprepared for the ramping up of the season: some crazy schedule on the business side as usual, but a few injuries these past 4 weeks which have really perturbed my training: pulling a muscle in my back, on my motorcycle, early March, then a tendonitis on the top of the foot as I logged 73 miles rushing back into training, a face plant last Monday in Honduras with 6 bloody bruises, and 2 3rd degree burns on my right calf as I started sliding on a steep gravel road, on a motorcycle again, and touched the exhaust pipe to avoid falling... Phew, what a series!

Then this wonderful vacation we had this past week on the island of Roatan, in Honduras: amazing place but not the best conditions for running. Agnès booked us on a flight through Houston on Friday and I had told her back in January that I might continue on to Chicago and Madison to run the 100K Nationals as I did last year before Boston. Given the circumstances, I decided not to but to register for American River instead, just before we left San Francisco last week. And I'm glad I didn't go to MadCity because it turned out to be sub freezing conditions, not suitable at all for another record attempt, would I have been in shape anyway.

Our flight was supposed to land at SFO just before 9 pm this Friday evening, with the car waiting for us to drive to Folsom right away, for an arrival there around midnight. Still much later than I would typically go to be before such a big race, but doable. Well, as we got into Houston, we learned that our flight was going to be delayed by at least 4 hours due to bad weather (read: rain) in San Francisco. At that time, I cancelled our hotel room and decided to DNS (Did Not Start), which I'm not sure has ever happened to me before. Huge disappointment but I thought of going to the track on Saturday to do some of the tempo running I missed so much so far this year.

Agnès attempted, and succeeded, in getting us on the earlier flight which was only delayed 3 hours and supposed to get to SFO by 11 pm. We hopped on that flight and, indeed, touched down, amid heavy rain conditions, on the SFO tarmac at exactly 11:00 pm. While we rushed to the long-term parking lot, I found another room at the original hotel in Folsom and Agnès was kind enough to let me be crazy to go for it again. We arrived at the hotel at 1:30 and got to bed by 2 am, for a short 3-hour sleep.

While I typically aim at finishing breakfast 3 hours before any race, that didn't work at all for this one: woke up at 5, ate 3 hard eggs and a brownie, took a shower, prepared my stuff while hearing the pouring rain outside and we were off the room by 5:35. Agnès dropped me at the entrance of the park at 5:47 and I rushed to the start line where I found Race Director, Julie Fingar, already delivering the pre-race briefing. As I couldn't find the tent and table where my bib was supposed to be, I interrupted her and she rushed in the rain to get it to me with 2 minutes to spare, so nice of her! Enough said, I think you got the picture, I had a good dose of stress to start the day, and that never does me much good...

The start line was filled with young runners in singlets. Actually, the favorite, Zach Ornelas, was even wearing a speedo, I had never seen this before at a trail ultra race! For one thing, the temperature was already high for an early Spring morning at 6 am, around 58-60F. Yet, I was wearing my super Ultimate Direction Ultra Vest v2, like I was going into bad weather in the Alps...

I let this group go, I believe they were about 10 going sub 7-min/mile. At about 1 mile in, I actually passed the lead woman and run alone for the next 2 miles, happy to be protected from the rain and wind with my jacket and hood. Since it was so cloudy and still dark, the PETZL headlamp was very helpful too.

At the first aid station one volunteer proposed to take my headlamp but I was convinced we'd have another station to drop it, just a few miles later. It was at 13 miles though, much later than I thought, and I was relieved to drop both the lamp and the vest with the Buffalo Chips, as the rain had stopped by then. We were 1 hour and 40 minutes in the race and I had the Excelsior team on my heels with Brian Purcell and Karl Schnaitter. On the asphalt and down the American River, which was raging this year, I got the pace down to 7:15-7:30 still much slower than previous years.

I was actually happy with that, thinking it would make the second half easier. I had a good climb up to the right bank but, on the subsequent steep and slippery downhill, I tried to escape a gully of mud on the right to get to the other greener side but slipped and had a bad fall on my left side again, the same I fell on last Monday in Honduras, yikes! My elbow was bleeding pretty hard and my hip was super painful, but I went on, counting on the nearby aid station to clean the wound. Well, another miscalculation, the next aid station was much further, it used to be one at this location but not this year. By the time I arrived at Negro Bar, mile 20, the blood had dried up, it will have to wait for the finish to get washed up. As a matter of fact, that made me realize that, in the haste of the start, I had forgotten to take my blood thinner pill (which I have to take every morning since my TIA incident 2 years ago), as well as my asthma-control medication, Singulair, the night before. When it occurs, my exercise-induced asthma typically kicks in around 14 miles and I could feel some at the bottom of my lungs but it was manageable at this slow pace anyway. I kept going up toward Beals Point which I reached in 3:14 and 9th place.

Agnès handed me a Vespa pouch and off I was, while hearing a few cheering for incoming runners.

Matthew Logan, 28, from Seattle, was the first to catch me as I was now struggling and started walking the uphills, passing through Granite Bay. Here he is, getting into the Granite Bay aid station at mile 29.5.

I came in 2 minutes later, albeit not in the same positive spirit.

At 50K, I was passed by Brian and Karl, along with the lead woman, Emily Hawgood, 23, from Zimbabwe. I remember seeing her bright and clean yellow shoes but, on this picture taken by Agnès, I must say that it looks like we weren't in the same race! I had mud all over my legs and even stuck in the blood along my arm and here she is, like she had covered 30 miles on a clean track, not a spot of mud to be seen, thanks to the agility of the gazelle!

From this point, I hadn't it in me and my legs anymore and I couldn't breath enough to run the uphills so I started logging 15 to 20-minute miles, a pace I've really hard time coping up with. I managed to reach Horseshoe Bar at mile 38, hoping to find Agnès and drop there. But, again, I had forgotten that crews weren't allowed there because of limited parking so I had to keep going for 3 more miles Rattlesnake Bar. By then, and after struggling through many more huge puddles, stretches of muddy sections either uphill or downhill and avoiding hundreds of poison oak branches, I had made my mind to drop to avoid spending 3 more hours to cover the remaining 9 miles. I could have done it but I was so eager to get my open wounds cleaned, I didn't even have any regret the following day as I was writing this post.

A special note to Ray Sanchez who is now in my age group and had very kind words when he passed me around mile 33. Ray not only won our age group but took second Master and 9th overall in 7:44.

And a mention to the Excelsior Men team which killed it this weekend, taking 10, 12 and 13, with, respectively, Karl Schnaitter, Paul Broyer and Brian Purcell.

Overall, the trail conditions were so bad that, despite a record pace in the first half according to some spectators, Zach won in a time of 6:22, way off the record. Despite a great and warm weather after the initial two hours of rain.

While getting some care at the finish line, I actually had a great chat with Rod Bien who had finished 3rd overall and 1st Master. He had bad GI issues after struggling with road shoes on the slippery trails in the second half. He is so modest that he was almost apologetic, stating that it was probably the slowest time for a 3rd place in the race history. We'll have to check with ultra statistician, Gary Wang... ;-) But, clearly, it was a testimony of the struggle we encountered in the second half. Here he is at Beals Point, with Race Director, Julie Fingar:

Here is my favorite Monster of Massage, Ve Loyce, helping the medical staff with his handy car wash.

And, mind you, the two burns after the initial cleaning on site

and after a shower, back home, a few hours later.

I now have a few days to replace the skin before Boston in just a week...

As for the hip, here is a view after two falls on it, in the same week...

While Cheri, from Julie's NorCarl Ultras team, was checking on me by email this Sunday, I took the opportunity to ask about the rest of the field and she had nothing too bad to report, thankfully! I count 382 finishers out of more than 500 registrants if I recall, not bad indeed in such conditions, kudos to all the finishers who gutted that one out! Including the legendary Tim Twietmeyer who completed his 39th American River out of 39 editions, in 11:44. This is quite a model of sustainable running!

Many thanks to the volunteers who assisted us along the course, and the sponsors and vendors supporting this event, including my friend Victor's Victory Sportdesign.

12th DNF in 152 ultra races in 12 years, it can't work every time or that wouldn't be ultra running. Or ultra racing I should say. Besides, this could have easily be my first DNS if I had answered Agnès question when we were in the shuttle to the parking lot on Friday night: "Is that reasonable?" No, it wasn't, but still worth the try, it almost worked out.

My main goal for this week is to survive the 3 flights which it will take me to get to Boston next Friday, with a business trip to Cincinnati first, then a connection through IAD. No more tripping, I have enough bruises to take care of this week!

American River 50-mile 2016: feeling both guilty and relieved...

For those who have followed the events over the past 4 weeks, I owe you some news about my medical conditions since I shared so much after my stroke. And then a big apology...

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had to stop running while the medical investigation is still going on. The big step this week has been another MRI and angiogram to (1) ensure there wasn't any other signs of strokes in the past 3 weeks and (2) check the condition of my arteries and vessels in the neck and inside the brain. Through the independent readings of 2 different neuroradiologists, the result came negative, no sign of plaque, and no more blockage (the team in San Francisco had detected a blockage on a CT Scan, which the team in New Jersey missed apparently). That's great news which came at the last hour on Friday afternoon.

I still wear a heart monitor 24 by 7 to check my heart rhythm against any sign of atrial fibrillation, which is the last remaining hypothesis for the formation of the clot. If that comes negative as well, which I hope, then I think we'll be left with an unknown case which, to me from day 1, could just be linked to the fact that I went 101% at the US Nationals. I've suffered the well-known exercise-induced asthma for many years until I discovered Singulair, maybe we are going to uncover the record-induced or limit-induced stroke (we could say exhaustion-induced except that I didn't feel exhausted at all when that happened in New York). Certainly, there aren't that many individuals out there who have pushed the limit against aging as I recently did and still improving after 50... Although, the field specialists would argue that I started late, so that certainly explains some of the remaining PRs. But still.

Anyway, after this update, it's time for the apology. As some of you have seen on Facebook or Strava already, yes, I resumed running this weekend by lining up to the start of no less than American River 50. For the non insiders, the 50 means 50 miles (80+ km), half on a trail with a few technical sections, and more than 4,000 ft of cumulative elevation. Now, I read your mind, here is the first question you must have: "Did you get the medical clearance to do this??!" Of course, no, and I certainly don't blame my doctors for stating that this wasn't recommended. Which doctor, with such incomplete explanation of what happened 4 weeks ago could ever say "Yes, it's just fine, go back to running, straight to race 2 tough marathons." But the thing is that this question will never been a clear cut ever from now on. Which leads me to the next thought...

I know I'm going to get a lot of push back on this decision, and probably even more from people who know less about the circumstances, from my personal fitness to what ultra running is about. To spare you the time of searching, here is a list of negative terms that can come to mind if you wish: foolish, insane, inconsiderate, stupid, dumb, senseless, absurd, crazy, silly... Yes, like you, that list came to (my) mind as well... As a matter of fact, this has been a particularly tough decision and, if it didn't appear through 470 of these blog posts yet, I'm a very rational person, don't like failure, like to base my decisions on facts. And sometimes, I can be determined too... It was also a tough decision because, until Friday afternoon, I still thought that there was potentially a big problem with my arteries and there was no way I would run with this condition then. I even cancelled on Thursday the hotel room that we had in Folsom, forfeiting the pre-race plans. Talking about some additional stress created by last minute planning... And of course, my decision was very challenging for Agnès whom I love so much for the trust she has in me in particular.

Again, I realize the gravity of this decision. I had never put much thoughts into stroke conditions before. Actually, I was very familiar with the danger of clots for ultra runners but had quite a big misconception about it. As ultra runner, our heart is getting so much stronger, it beats slower (mine often goes below 40 at rest), slowing down the blood flow which is particularly risky when sitting for hours on a plane right after a race, something I'm way too familiar with. What I didn't know if that these clots typically forming in the legs are a danger for the lungs where they will end up, not the brain. In my case, we need to find out what caused the TIA in the first place to see what the potential risk of forming another clot is. If a clot was the reason in the first place... At least I'm on a blood thinner which certainly decreases that risk (and, no, John Burton, that's not a banned substance, I checked before even taking the first pill! ;-).

Now, I'm not that crazy, I had to make deliberate concessions in order to make the decision work: what I was aiming for is what I called "jogging American River" at about 80% of my fitness capacity. That may not mean much slowing down for many, but that's a huge gap from the 101% I pushed to at Caumsett, really.

Hum, with that super long introduction, we are not even at the start line, I'm going to have to keep my race report really short (for a change... ;-). Although I have so much things to say about the support of many from the start to the finish line.

I had so many doubts about this decision obviously that I went in with a very low profile, no message to my Club mates, nothing on Facebook. Besides, with a 6 am start, it was pitch dark and very easy to remain incognito. Start photo showing that Lake Folsom was high enough this year to reach the boat ramp near the start line (well, you can't see it, that's the black background, but you got the picture... ;-):

Incognito? That is until the Master of Ceremony mentioned my name at the mic... A few people who knew about the past weeks stopped by many had no clue.

With my M6 bib (thank you Julie! ;-), a few probably thought I was here to kill it. A few days ago, one of the favorites, Chris Denucci, asked to follow me on Strava... Needless to say, I lost sight of him right off the start and was happy about it as I was trying to make my way back to a jogging pace. The bright yellow jerseys of the Excelsior team were ahead and I settled behind Ray Sanchez and Nikki Kimble. We were about half a mile in the race when I was going to check my pace and discovered I had forgotten to start my GPS. My new Petzl Tikka RXP was really helpful on the first trail section and I offered Ray to run on his side so he cold benefit from the light since he didn't have a headlamp. But the sky was so clear that the lamp wasn't needed even before we reached the levee. It felt really cool to not push and rush as usual, and even felt good to lose sight of the top runners. At the dam, I had a nice chat with Nikki (her ski season in Montana, snowshoe racing, physio therapist jobs, motivational speaking engagements about ultra running or depression). Nikki focuses on mountain 100-miles and was definitely not trying to chase Devon who was racing the boys. My pace was now down to 8:24 min/mile which was indeed much slower than usual. I picked up the pace a bit as we were now going down the bike path. Not pushing (I swear) but ended up lowering my average pace to 7:45 at the turn around at the end of Lake Matona. Between the early morning lights and the reflection on the still water, the view were stunning and I was glad to take the time to look around for a change.

Agnès was at the Negro Bar aid station and a volunteer and she helped me refill my GU2O bottle. From mile 15 it's mostly up to Auburn so the average pace keeps rising. After Negro Bar I started feeling the effect of a notorious lack of training these past 4 weeks. I was hoping that super good conditioning of January and February would carry through March but that was wishful thinking. Despite good hydration and taking an S!Cap every hour, I could feel some nagging cramps coming and had to ease up after Beals Point (which is theoretically the half-way point and the start of the brand new 25-mile race, but I'd say closer to 24 miles. I reached Beals in 3:12 (7:55 min/mile) and did a quick stop to grab a couple of GU gels. I had decided that, since I wasn't really racing, I wasn't going to do Vespa (Vespapower.com) but I didn't realize how tough that was going to be to get back to the old school of running on carb, ouch! Besides, with all the worries about potential clogged arteries, I had cut on fat even more than usual so that mean I was likely to be fat-depleted anyway...

I was surprised no to see Agnès at Beals. She had expected me a few minutes later so she had walked down the water and barely see me passing though on her way back to the parking lot.

One runner passed me on the way to Cavitt School and I distanced another one in the subsequent roller coaster to Granite Bay. By Granite Bay I wasn't feeling so good. Not the head thankfully, but the leg fatigue and level of energy. I wasn't eating as much as I should given my choice of not running on fat calories, but I didn't feel like eating potatoes. I ate mostly GUs, one or two am hour, a few pieces of bananas, a few chips and drinking a few small cups of Coke here and there. With this regimen, no surprise that I bonk, both physically and mentally in the infamous Meat Grinder section. Not only most of my worst ultra memories have been formed in this section over the past 10 years, but the matter became even worst with XTerra throwing us full-speed mountain bikers to us. I almost got hit twice and you could tell the runners were the intruders, although the trail rules and etiquette say otherwise. I appreciate these are shared trails but that was insanely dangerous. Between all these required stops to let the bikes pass, plus the yelling to announce myself in the numerous blind turns, that really broke my rhythm and I didn't need that especially in that section. But I had promised not to push, so I tried to remain calm and savoring this opportunity to experience trail running again.

I asked for more ice in my water at Horseshoe Bar as the temperature was rising. Ray passed me in that section to Rattlesnake Bar and Tim Twietmeyer arrived in the station as I was chatting with Agnès and trying to recompose myself in the shade before the final 10 miles.

Tim is 57, I was glad I wasn't fighting for the age group title today, no stress, no pressure... ;-) (Tim is an ultra legend but here are a few stats about him for the non insiders: that was his 36th American River meaning he ran all of them. Tim ran and finished Western States 25 times under 24 hours, the only one to do so. And he even won that mythical race 5 times! And he lives in Auburn, so these trails are his backyard.).

The few miles after Rattlesnake were slow and painful. I was so worried to fall because of the risk of bleeding, I must have been super tensed as my back is unusually sore this Sunday. Despite all the efforts to raise my feet higher I tripped 5 to 6 times and fell once but landing on my hand bottles (thank you again Ultimate Direction! ;-), avoiding any bruising. I also got tired of scanning for and avoiding the numerous and invasive poison oak branches. With that, I couldn't wait to reach the final 3.5-mile climb to the Auburn Dam Overlook finish. It was 1 pm and quite warm now but I'm a good climber and these steep miles are on a fire and service road so at least I didn't have to jump over rocks anymore, just shuffle. At the mile 47 mark, my watch was showing 7:18 of elapsed time and I thought I could still break 8 hours. But I had forgotten that I had missed the start, and wasn't sure about how minutes I missed anyway.

I got more iced water at the final Last Gap aid station and, soon after, ran into Rich Hanna who was blown away to see me, even more so, running that final uphill (impressive view from the finish line down to the trail at the bottom of the canyon).

By the way, Rich is the one who broke that darn M50-54 50K American Record before me in February, the new record I was chasing in Caumsett 3 weeks later. He is so nice, he offered to run by my side to the finish and we even chatted a bit about what happened. I ran all the way to the finish but, not knowing the exact clock time, I was really unsure about the 8 hours. As the CEO of the Chip Timing company officiating for the race, Rich was pretty confident I had it and, sure enough, I crossed the finish line in 7:58:15. 21st overall (Devon took 11th overall in 7:10), 20th Men, 2nd M50-59 to Tim (7:49).

Chris Denucci won, 42 seconds from breaking 6 hours! Chris Wehan took 2nd in 6:10 and Ian Sharman 3rd in 6:17.

Karl Schnaitter finished in 8th and was the last one to break 7 hours. Team wise it was a huge show off from Excelsior again, taking 5 spots within the top 22, kudos!

After all the stress that I created for Agnès, and the short night we had as we left the Bay Area at 8 pm on Friday evening, we were both eager to hit the road and we left Auburn at 2:45 pm. By then, out of more than 600 starters, only 50 runners had finished, it was going to be a long afternoon for all, starting with all the volunteers. An extended thanks to all of them, especially as I used the aid stations much more than usual.

And a special thank to the Race Director, Julie Fingar, for letting me run this event for the 9th consecutive time (including one DNF in 2008 on asthma).

Thank you also to Tom from NorCal Ultras for checking on me after the finish, and proposing to take my blood pressure.

Here I am with Rich, after the finish (I had not realized that Rich was a 2:17 marathoner at age 29, that's way below the Olympics Trial standards! Promised, I won't be chasing Rich's record anymore, I know where my limit is now! ;-).

As closing comments, and I probably lost most of the readers that far into my post, I'd say this (for now at least, there may be more to discuss after the remaining medical tests come in): in 2014, strokes were the fifth cause of deaths in the US so this is serious stuff and I certainly want to learn more about what happened in my situation which I believe is not a common case. It certainly makes approach to life different and I'm glad Agnès found me a neurologist who also does research on strokes and has an open mindset to look at every hypothesis. With all I learned so far but also a lack of definitive explanation, I find it challenging to classify what happened to me: it doesn't seem to be a known injury, nor does it look like a sickness. It's not an injury of a body part to be fixed. And it's not a sickness in steady state. You just don't want another stroke to hit, yet it's uncertain what could be the cause. Was it a random accident, or an unknown injury of a blood vessel due to reaching a physical limit which I had never attained before? Or the result of some aging which has not been noticed before because nobody or so few have pushed that hard? I know these are big remaining open questions but, thanks to the medical care I received in New Jersey then in California, the most alarming assumptions have been tested and eliminated so far. I'm still waiting to hear about the heart monitor results, and hope they are able to leverage the recording from this 8-hour long stress test, that should be interesting (and probably not seen before!). Meanwhile the blood thinner should help and it felt really good to get ultra live again, even if it was at an 85% level effort.

There are many other ways to take risk and life and I was certainly not the only one today on the trails. Besides, it was an amazing day to enjoy the outdoors with great company and a super professional race organization, experience the blooming nature and see so much water in the area, although the drought is still far from being resolved. Life is wonderful and love and running are part of mine. I hope you will... forgive me!

PS: all picture credits to Agnès, my crew yesterday and love always!

American River 50-mile 2015: a painful recovery run

American River, a long history for me of ups and downs. I toed the start every year since 2008 so this year was my 8th. In 2008, I had one of these major exercise-induced asthma crisis and I had to walk more than 30 miles, making it a painful crawl, yet finishing just under 9 hours. The following year, same thing, unable to breath by mile 16, I stopped (DNF) at Beal's Point just after the marathon mark. Then I finally broke 7 hours in 2010, 6:47:53 in 2011, 7:55 in 2012 with some asthma again, 6:47:39 in 2013 and 6:51:33 last year on the new course.

For those not following my weekly posts, I haven't been running for the past 3 weeks, suffering from a painful inflammation on the outside of my left heel after a run in the cold in Columbus a couple of days after Way Too Cool. With that, I was quite nervous about this race, wondering how the heel would behave on such a long and delicate trail. Now, the entertaining emcee on the start line recounted a mental advice shared by Matt Fitzgerald at the pre-race pasta party, to replace nervous with the word excited: so, here I was, I was really excited to see if I could indeed race this Saturday...!

Speaking of excitement, the race was so professionally organized by Julie Fingar and her NorCal Ultras crew that we had the privilege to witness a full lunar eclipse right before the start.

The timing was perfect, as it was the shortest eclipse of the 21st century, some moonlight even came back right after the start to make up for the 20 minutes of darkness following the 6 am start. Knowing that I wouldn't see Agnès before Beal's Point, I decided to take the risk of running in the dark without a headlamp, albeit with some hesitation.

It was so dark at the start that Agnès had a hard time capturing much of the action with her camera. Chikara (Omine), Karl Schnaitter and a few other youngsters took off and, still focusing on warming my heel up, I was happy not to engage in a brutal pace and hunt right off the start.

I tied along with a runner carrying a handheld light, I think it was Cody Logan (bib 409, 20, from Bakersfield). The first mile is on the park road so isn't a problem but the next 2 miles are the ones for which a light can help indeed so I thanked him once we got on the first levee. The moon was magnificent, now back to a full orange color and the sun was close to making its appearance.

After these 2 miles of trails in the dark, my GPS was indicating 7:30 min/mile. Apart for some roller coaster-type of road before Folsom Point, the first 12 miles basically have us going down the river, leading to quite a few fast miles on the smooth bike path. By then, my average pace was down to 6:55 min/mile. I was convinced that this was similar to my pace of last year but, re-reading my 2014 post, it was actually 7:12 last year, oops! At least my left heel wasn't complaining, so I was really excited to be running fast again!

By mile 12, something really strange happened, I started feeling cramps in both my calves, yikes! 38 miles to go, that wasn't looking good. I doubled my S!Caps intake at the end of the second hour (2 caps at the top of the hour instead of one in such vernal conditions) and grabbed a few pieces of banana at the next aid station. I kept the same rhythm and stride and was excited (again...! ;-) to see that I just had a 1:50 gap behind Karl and 2 other runners by mile 15 (Hazel Bluffs).

I stopped for a minute to refill my Gu2O bottle at Main Bar (mile 17) and, the cramps worsened as I left the station. At this point, I decided that it was more than time to slow down a little before all this turn to a carnage and prevent me from finishing. And I must say that I'm very please with the way I handled that this time as I'm usually pretty bad at slowing down slowly, that it just enough to keep a reasonable pace without bonking and walking.

I got to Beal's Point after 2:42 of running (mile 24) and took some Coke and banana to keep addressing the cramp issue. Agnès had made it to the aid station just in time to take a picture as I was leaving.

No runner to be seen in front of me on the levee, nor behind either. After the levee, it was cool to run and race with a group of kids training on the trails near the Cavitt Junior High School of Granite Bay. Despite my slower pace, I was stunned that I was catching up with some of them after 25 miles of running, and 25 more to go! How... exciting! After this episode, the solitary run resumed and I was glad to see Agnès again at Granite Bay (mile 29). By then, I had the cramps almost under control thanks to a shorter stride and was glad that I didn't have to walk at all.

I did a very short stop at this aid station, still having some fluid in both my Gu2O and water bottles. Shortly after, nature called right at the beginning of "poison oak territory", not the best place to stop in the bushes, but that had to do. My average pace was now down to 7:27 but at least I was moving and there was still no one to be seen behind. It was time to get into the section I most hate among all the trails I've run and raced on, and there are actually very few of them: the infamous "feet grinder..." The views are certainly wonderful and there isn't much elevation gain overall as we follow the ridge of Folsom Lake, but, except for the new 2-mile loop at Twin Rocks, it's hard to keep a steady pace. After a few miles of painfully hoping over slippery dusty boulders, I was completely out of fluids and, at every turn, was hoping to get to the next aid station, which I believed to be Buzzard's Cove like all the other editions I've ran. But this remote aid station wasn't to be found and I finally reached Horseshoe Bar at mile 38, so glad to finally find some water, having ran on empty for a few exposed miles. My fault for having missed this big logistical change, but I don't think this was advertised enough, both on the web, numerous emails and even at Granite Bay. Knowing there was 8+ miles without an aid station, in particular in this tough section, I would most certainly have filled up my bottles before leaving Granite Bay. And I still wonder how the slower runners fare with such a stretch...

Of course, this is an opportunity to remind us how the original ultra runners raced 40 years ago without all the support we now get and I'm so thankful for getting ice at aid stations in particular. The stop at Horseshoe Bar was more than needed and, with cramps still nagging, I tried to drink as much as possible while running to make up for the earlier dehydration. The rest was fine: using Vespa, I just took one GU every hour, it's amazing how this works!

It was great to see Agnès again at Rattlesnake Bar. Since it was only 3 miles after Horseshoe, my stop was much shorter. At this station, Agnès enjoyed catching up with Greg Soderlund, Garry Towle and Rich Hanna and seeing the 4 runners ahead of me (I had no idea and didn't even dare to ask in which place I was, more concerned about just finishing today).

Respectively, Chikara, Bradford Avilla, Karl, Brian Miller and Greg:

At the top of the wall to exit Rattlesnake, my legs stiffened so badly that I couldn't even walk. I had just taken my 2 S!Caps but decided to even double that. I wasn't feeling so good about that, knowing about the potential risks of electrolyte imbalance and renal failure, but I wasn't going to just drop at mile 41 this way either... I resumed running with most of my legs muscles cramping, even my feet were cramping now, it was pathetic. Thanks to the drinking and the S!Caps, I was able to keep moving again and decided to run, or jog or shuffle until I get passed by someone. Actually, thinking of Matt Fitzgerald's advice, I thought this was too negative of a thought so I changed my motivation to let's keep running so nobody passes me, hoping that others were struggling as I was behind (sorry folks... ;-).

I took more ice at the helpful and very well stocked Dowdin's Post aid station, as well as a cup of Coke, and thanked the volunteer who was manning the whole station all by herself! Keeping moving got me to the bottom of the Dam Hill without being passed and right on 6 hours and 30 minutes of racing. At this point, although my legs were hurting so much, I thought I might well try to hold my spot and even attempt to break 7 hours. With 3 miles to go, that meant 10 minutes per mile, for three uphill miles... Unfortunately, I reached the mile 48 sign after 12 minutes, it wasn't going to be a sub-7 AR this year... But I kept going, and running and eventually ran the next mile in 10 minutes with a very cool "no stop iced water refill" at the Last Gasp aid station (thank you guys!). I climbed the last mile with determination but not trying to kill myself and eventually crossed the finish line in 7:03:53 and, indeed, 5th place.

Not a great time but good enough for first Masters (Ray Sanchez won the M40-49 age group finishing in 6th, less than 5 minutes behind me) and winning my age group of course.

Like often at this race, I enjoyed taking some rest at the finish line...

The second in our M50-59 age group was actually the local legend, Tim Twietmeyer, 56, who was celebrating his 35 consecutive AR finish, wearing the very appropriate bib #35 and being paced by one of his sons, and an ultra runner himself, Austin.

35 consecutive finishes out of 36 participations (Tim was till in college that first year), this is an amazing example of sustainable running, what a strike!! (Gary Wang had run his 20th consecutive AR last year and, per his Facebook message, was glad to sleep in this first Saturday of April, for a change... ;-).

Chikara had won the race in 6:13:39, setting a new course record for this new course. Chikara has won many races but I don't think he got too many nice flower bouquets like this one though! ;-)

Karl ran 4 minutes slower than last year and took 3rd place again.

Second place was Bradford Avilla, 19, who was running his first ultra. A super promising performance and debut with 6:31:41.

And the woman race was won this year by Jennifer Benna:

So, how did I feel about all this. While I felt great about this honorable place, more importantly, I was really happy that my heel seemed ok, at least that it had not bothered me during the run. Now, I didn't want to declare victory too fast because, after running 38 miles with cramps, I had so many pain points to process, it could be that the heel issue was only hiding. I wanted to see how my legs and joints were going to feel when getting cold.

First, I had to work on my muscles to get as many toxins as possible and as quickly as possible: stretching the calves, then getting Ve Loyce's super massage (Monsters of Massage).

After that, I was already feeling better when walking and even better after trying Karyn Hoffman's RecoveryPump compression boots:

Very nice treatment before our 2.5-hour ride home (versus 4.5 hours in Friday's traffic...) and an evening at Greg's high school to see an amazing representation of Cabaret. Another long and rich day...

This Sunday, stairs are still painful, but not as bad as it could have been after so much cramping so I'm thankful to Ve Loyce and Karin for the extra recovery care which gives me a chance to line up and perform at the 100K Road Nationals in... a week!

Now, I have to admit that I put so much on my right leg to try to protect my left ankle that the outside of my right knee was quite sore and painful after the finish, and still this Sunday. That leg took its toll in the feet grinder section especially, when I was hoping over rocks or trying to avoid poison oak branches, all that while keeping the cramps under control, and I think I might have twisted my knee before Rattlesnake. At least I didn't fall, and I was very pleased with the mental strength I had which allowed me to keep moving all the way. I hope the knee recovers on time to bear 100 kilometers of asphalt this Saturday, and isn't the start of a new nagging injury... But, again, I'm at least grateful that the heel issue seems to have been taken care of with the last three weeks of non running and that the under training was worth it.

Big and many thanks to Race Director Julie, her NorCal Ultras crew and army of 300 volunteers for allowing to run this legendary race year after year, and introducing ultra trail running to so many new comers. Amazing logistic to ensure that we do what we love in a safe way. 629 finishers out of 760 or so registered runners, that's an amazing finisher rate!

And special thanks to Agnès for driving, crewing, socializing, taking picture and waiting for me at this very special race!


PS: no, Agnès, nice catch, but Chikara didn't run 50 miles with a funny balloon striped to his back pack! ;-)