Gorge Waterfalls 50K 3/25/12
This race has been a long time coming. I intended on running it last March, but unfortunately came down with a sinus illness that took weeks to clear. This year it looked like I might be sitting out again due to a medical procedure I had to have on the Wednesday before the race. When I had read about other people having the same procedure, they mentioned being laid up for days on end. You could imagine my dismay. Laid up!? Days on end? Don't they know who I am, or more importantly, what I need to do before leaving here for the season. My good friend Corinne had assured me that I would be just fine, so I took her positivity and decided I would give it a go. 
I was curious what the initial trail revisions would be like. Friends who ran the race last year went on and on about the beauty of the trail and the waterfalls. Things happen and trail construction is as good a reason as any to switch things up. Then it got revised again due to snow at low elevation. Safety is another one of those awesome reasons to change up the course. I figured that regardless of where the race went, the Gorge is a beautiful place and the course would still take us through mossy, fern filled woods past mondo waterfalls. The revision made is so we ran past the waterfalls twice! I will admit that I was also happy when I learned that the course revisions gave us a bit less elevation gain. This might help me in my endeavor to not be laid up for any time at all.
The morning of the race was less than easy. I had hydration pack issues that led to water all over the counter and floor, and brought to light a crucial missing piece. "Forget it, I am going to bed," I told Pat, only to have him find the missing piece, which spurred me to resume getting ready. Pat and Mango planned on being at the finish area sometime around 2:30-2:45 to see me finish. I set off from home smiling cause I have never had anyone waiting specifically for me at a race. Sometime during the drive, my newly sealed pack somehow leaked all over my bag, gloves, and shoes. Frickin' typical, I thought and moved my gear into my other running bag. Readjusting my hydration bladder I wondered, "does this crap happens to anybody else on a regular basis?"
While walking around at Benson S.P. for registration, I realized no one had bib numbers yet. Some people were in line for the bathroom, others in line for parking passes. I started off to find registration and overheard someone saying, "James, the race director, is having some car issues." Well, that would explain it. I went to the bathroom and got in line for a parking pass. Now, this might be made up, exaggerated, or totally correct, but a guy in front of me in line mentioned that James got a flat. His rig, loaded with all the race gear, was so heavy that he couldn't jack it up and he had to call AAA for assistance. Holy cow. Most people marveled at how much revising the poor guy had to do at the last minute to keep this race going, and now this was happening to him. Suddenly, my hydration pack issues didn't seem so troublesome.
After arriving, setting up, and checking everyone in at registration, James gave his pre-race briefing. Typically, his pre-race speeches are incredible so I was excited to hear what he'd say this time around. "Well, we are going to cancel the race!" We all thought this was hilarious. Then, more seriously he told us about possible snowy and icy places on the trail and warned us, "Be very careful! If you slip and fall, you will fall off a cliff and die. Yes, you will fall into one of the MANY beautiful waterfalls, and that will be it. It isn't worth it." It was a statement that was funny and not funny at the same time. That was that, and it was go time.
The race started off in a flash. People were everywhere through the switchbacks at Multnomah Falls. If you aren't in the lead, you never really know where you are in the pack because people get dispersed pretty quickly. Since I was running alone, I had to set time goals for myself. With the elevation gain and loss in the first leg, the fantastic water fall views, and possibility of ice on the trail, I had planned to make it to the first aid station in under 1.5 hours. I was relieved when I arrived at the aid table in 1 hr 15 minutes. The next part had rolling hills, followed by road, then back to a trail that would take us to Elowah Falls - our turn around point.
If you come to the Gorge, you obviously must see Multnomah Falls. You can drive right up to the bottom of it and oogle at it in all its glory. If you want to see something that blows Multnomah Falls away, you should go see Elowah Falls. It is a massive waterfall, where the cliffside below is this humongous concave ampitheater. The walls of the cliffs are covered in a thick, vibrant green moss. The shape of the area amplifies the sound of the crashing water. The water at the bottom is the clearest crystal blue color. It was so beautiful that eventhough I was racing, I stopped and checked it out for a few minutes. Yeah, it is that good!
At 2.5 hours, I had seen Elowah, checked in at aid 3 and was running back towards the start. This was just over halfway through the race. Had I started out too fast? This seemed too fast for me, but whatever. A little while later, with ten miles left my legs started cramping... probably from running too fast for me. Taking electrolytes and eating helped. It didn't solve my issues, but I could ignore it and continue. After the last aid station we had seven miles to the finish. Generally, people get stoked when you are that close to the finish and the people around me were talking excitedly. Usually I'd take off in an almost sprint... but instead I started falling apart. The uphill was fine but the downhill hurt all the way down to my soul. The fractured basalt rocks hurt my lower body joints and there was a sharp, stabbing pain in my foot. Not being dramatic either, but I also started getting overly emotional. Happens to runners frequently, but I had never experienced it. A friend of mine had told me a story about being a mile from the finish of a race, and sitting on a log for a long time reevaluating his life and wondering why he was out there in the first place. Yes, I started reevaluating my life at this point in the race; realizing that 27 years of heavy impact was taking its toll and I suddenly hated myself. Even worse, what if I finished too early and Pat and Mango hadn't arrived yet? I started to get sad, and had to talk myself out of weeping. Pathetic I know, but I was having a meltdown (which I now blame on low blood sugar). I envisioned Tom Hanks yelling, "there's no crying in baseball!" and managed to pull it together.
A strong mindset is key for running. While my body was telling me to stop and just walk, or better yet, lay down and forget about it; my mind convinced me that the faster I moved, the faster I would be done, shoes off, and this whole thing would be in the past. I hobbled downhill in what I imagine was an ugly attempt at running. Somehow, my dark mood began to lift with each awkward step downhill. Euphoria was setting back in and I was rejoicing inside because soon enough I would be done! A fellow runner - obviously elated - ran ahead of me. He cruised down the steeply paved switchbacks, heel clicking and hooting out loud. Tourists moved out of the way; either being polite or out of terror, worrying for their own well-being. After dodging tourist traffic and running along a flat stretch, the finish line was there in view. Mango was in the crowd, running circles around little kids. Pat told her to come get me and she ran next to me, jumping in the air excitedly. I finished the race with my favorite little running buddy and couldn't be happier to get so many licks.
This morning I woke up and had a hard time getting out of bed. It wasn't lack of sleep, I just really couldn't move my lower body properly. Sitting there, I looked my legs over and wondered why people do this to themselves. Other runners did it upon waking too, I guarantee it. What is even more funny is that we do it knowingly. Today, like every day after a race, I walk around like I was just in a car wreck. Tomorrow will be better and the next day I will start running again... slowly. A little over a month from now I will race, and the viscious cycle of healing and training will begin again.
*Photo credits: Multnomah Falls by Krissy Fagan. Action photo by Glenn Tachiyama. Elowah Falls photo was pulled off the web because I thought I should show the most beautiful waterfall...but I am not sure who it belongs to.
I was curious what the initial trail revisions would be like. Friends who ran the race last year went on and on about the beauty of the trail and the waterfalls. Things happen and trail construction is as good a reason as any to switch things up. Then it got revised again due to snow at low elevation. Safety is another one of those awesome reasons to change up the course. I figured that regardless of where the race went, the Gorge is a beautiful place and the course would still take us through mossy, fern filled woods past mondo waterfalls. The revision made is so we ran past the waterfalls twice! I will admit that I was also happy when I learned that the course revisions gave us a bit less elevation gain. This might help me in my endeavor to not be laid up for any time at all.
The morning of the race was less than easy. I had hydration pack issues that led to water all over the counter and floor, and brought to light a crucial missing piece. "Forget it, I am going to bed," I told Pat, only to have him find the missing piece, which spurred me to resume getting ready. Pat and Mango planned on being at the finish area sometime around 2:30-2:45 to see me finish. I set off from home smiling cause I have never had anyone waiting specifically for me at a race. Sometime during the drive, my newly sealed pack somehow leaked all over my bag, gloves, and shoes. Frickin' typical, I thought and moved my gear into my other running bag. Readjusting my hydration bladder I wondered, "does this crap happens to anybody else on a regular basis?"
While walking around at Benson S.P. for registration, I realized no one had bib numbers yet. Some people were in line for the bathroom, others in line for parking passes. I started off to find registration and overheard someone saying, "James, the race director, is having some car issues." Well, that would explain it. I went to the bathroom and got in line for a parking pass. Now, this might be made up, exaggerated, or totally correct, but a guy in front of me in line mentioned that James got a flat. His rig, loaded with all the race gear, was so heavy that he couldn't jack it up and he had to call AAA for assistance. Holy cow. Most people marveled at how much revising the poor guy had to do at the last minute to keep this race going, and now this was happening to him. Suddenly, my hydration pack issues didn't seem so troublesome.
After arriving, setting up, and checking everyone in at registration, James gave his pre-race briefing. Typically, his pre-race speeches are incredible so I was excited to hear what he'd say this time around. "Well, we are going to cancel the race!" We all thought this was hilarious. Then, more seriously he told us about possible snowy and icy places on the trail and warned us, "Be very careful! If you slip and fall, you will fall off a cliff and die. Yes, you will fall into one of the MANY beautiful waterfalls, and that will be it. It isn't worth it." It was a statement that was funny and not funny at the same time. That was that, and it was go time.
At 2.5 hours, I had seen Elowah, checked in at aid 3 and was running back towards the start. This was just over halfway through the race. Had I started out too fast? This seemed too fast for me, but whatever. A little while later, with ten miles left my legs started cramping... probably from running too fast for me. Taking electrolytes and eating helped. It didn't solve my issues, but I could ignore it and continue. After the last aid station we had seven miles to the finish. Generally, people get stoked when you are that close to the finish and the people around me were talking excitedly. Usually I'd take off in an almost sprint... but instead I started falling apart. The uphill was fine but the downhill hurt all the way down to my soul. The fractured basalt rocks hurt my lower body joints and there was a sharp, stabbing pain in my foot. Not being dramatic either, but I also started getting overly emotional. Happens to runners frequently, but I had never experienced it. A friend of mine had told me a story about being a mile from the finish of a race, and sitting on a log for a long time reevaluating his life and wondering why he was out there in the first place. Yes, I started reevaluating my life at this point in the race; realizing that 27 years of heavy impact was taking its toll and I suddenly hated myself. Even worse, what if I finished too early and Pat and Mango hadn't arrived yet? I started to get sad, and had to talk myself out of weeping. Pathetic I know, but I was having a meltdown (which I now blame on low blood sugar). I envisioned Tom Hanks yelling, "there's no crying in baseball!" and managed to pull it together.
A strong mindset is key for running. While my body was telling me to stop and just walk, or better yet, lay down and forget about it; my mind convinced me that the faster I moved, the faster I would be done, shoes off, and this whole thing would be in the past. I hobbled downhill in what I imagine was an ugly attempt at running. Somehow, my dark mood began to lift with each awkward step downhill. Euphoria was setting back in and I was rejoicing inside because soon enough I would be done! A fellow runner - obviously elated - ran ahead of me. He cruised down the steeply paved switchbacks, heel clicking and hooting out loud. Tourists moved out of the way; either being polite or out of terror, worrying for their own well-being. After dodging tourist traffic and running along a flat stretch, the finish line was there in view. Mango was in the crowd, running circles around little kids. Pat told her to come get me and she ran next to me, jumping in the air excitedly. I finished the race with my favorite little running buddy and couldn't be happier to get so many licks.
This morning I woke up and had a hard time getting out of bed. It wasn't lack of sleep, I just really couldn't move my lower body properly. Sitting there, I looked my legs over and wondered why people do this to themselves. Other runners did it upon waking too, I guarantee it. What is even more funny is that we do it knowingly. Today, like every day after a race, I walk around like I was just in a car wreck. Tomorrow will be better and the next day I will start running again... slowly. A little over a month from now I will race, and the viscious cycle of healing and training will begin again.
*Photo credits: Multnomah Falls by Krissy Fagan. Action photo by Glenn Tachiyama. Elowah Falls photo was pulled off the web because I thought I should show the most beautiful waterfall...but I am not sure who it belongs to.
"Does this crap happens to anybody else on a regular basis?"
ReplyDeleteYES.
At my last race before Gorge, I discovered a 3-inch hole in the side of my trail running shoes the night before the race - uppers completely separating from the soles. Then, morning of, I discovered I'd failed to pack my running shorts (we camped out the night before the race...) Oi vey! Last-minute race disasters are part of the adventure, I suppose.
Anyway, great report! Thanks for sharing. My mom, who stresses out constantly about my passion for long distance running, called me the morning of Gorge and said, "My only advice for you is that, if it gets hard, just stop running, sit down, and cry." :)
A hole in your shoes sounds awful! You weren't the person who ran with two left shoes at Orcas, were you? If not, did you hear about that lady? Wow, what a trooper.
ReplyDeleteI love your Mom's advice. I have used that technique before, and realized while sitting and crying that I wasn't getting anywhere fast. Haha.