Distance: 36.7 mi (6,900 ft of elevation gain)
Finishing Time: 7 hours, 16 minutes
Place: 1st/9
Pre-Race
I had run Lake Sonoma 50 mile five weeks prior to this 37 mile Arnold Rim Trail (ART) race, my first ever 50 miler, so my number one goal was to go into ART feeling healthy. Working with coach Jason Pohl, we talked about not so much looking to “gain fitness” between these two events, more to feel fresh and healthy.
My biggest run since finishing Lake Sonoma was an 18 mile training run that I did with local runner Rob. Rob and I have run together before both in training and in races, and he’s a strong runner. He dusted me on this course 7 months ago and finished ahead of me at Lake Sonoma a month ago, but I seem to be trending closer. With the Arnold Rim Trail race being a smaller event, I knew it very well could come down to either one of us.
First Half (Miles 0-18)
I make the five minute drive from my house to the beginning of the race, after eating pancakes, a smoothie full of carbs and some protein, and a double-shot espresso. It’s a big advantage to have the race be in your backyard as you can sleep in your own bed and eat from your kitchen the morning of the race. The biggest advantage though is lately I’ve been doing 80-90% of my running on the Arnold Rim Trail (ART), and know exactly what to expect on the course. The ART trail has everything, with lots of rolling incline/declines and a few more sustained hills. I blew up last year with the constant change of ascent and descent. I wasn’t underestimating the difficulty this year, especially with a warmer day and no cloud coverage in the forecast.
The 37 mile race is about to begin and there are only a total of 9 runners at the start line. We hear the word go, and Rob and I are out running together in front from the very beginning. It’s an eerie sense of deja vu. Was it really only 7 months ago that we were both out here leading from the start line? It feels like I’ve lived a trail runner’s life time since then, and yet the memory still feels fresh of how slow and frustrating the second half of this race was for me. We were close in the first half of last year’s race, but he ended up winning comfortably putting about a 30 minute gap on me during the second half of the race.
I let Rob go a bit early in this one, Rob in first and myself in second. We are both running by ourselves, although I occasionally catch a glimpse of him when the trail opens up which is reassuring he’s not too far of head. We are making one of the two big climbs of the first half of the race around mile 4, up to Top of the World, when I hear a loud crashing sound in the bushes followed by loud shouting. I’m confused for a moment, until I catch up to Rob 5 minutes later who tells me what it was.
“A bear. A big one too. I came right up on it- that’s about as close to a bear that I’ve ever been to.” That’ll make for a good post-race story.
We leave the first aid station around mile 6 together and he gradually pulls away on the downhill and flat sections. Miles tick by and I glance at my watch, which is now reading 14 miles. I haven’t seen Rob in a while and my legs are already feeling tight, especially around right hip area. I also just ate absolutely ate it running on flat trail, tripping over a rock and going full sprawl to the ground.
I feel pretty crappy, sit on a rock for about 30 seconds, massaging my legs and catching my breath. The mini stop works magic, and I found myself moving well downhill. I let gravity take me and make the biggest descent on course, which takes me just short turn of the turn around point at mile 18. A quick mile hike up and I’m at the halfway point.
Turn Around/ Aid Station (Mile 18)
My buddy Nathan is there to greet me and he has laid out a chair, food, and a change of shoes/socks. What a guy.
“You’re doing great man,” he tells me as he helps refill one of my water bottles. We both just saw Rob leave the aid station as I came in, so it goes without saying I’m within striking range. Nathans asks what else he can get me.
“Fruit from the aid station. Watermelon would be fantastic.” I eat this, a couple bites of peanut butter and jelly, and with a change of socks/shoes I’m just about. I leave my shirt behind, opting to go shirtless with the heat picking-up on the return back.
“Thanks man,” I tell Nathan. “See you at the finish”.
Second Half (Mile 18-36)
I feel great leaving the aid station and like I’m flying downhill on a fun descent. This is where my race started falling apart last year and I feel much, much better this time around. I see another runner coming in about 45 minutes since I hit the aid station, and he looks scared. “How far to the aid station?” he asks me.
I really don’t know how far it’s been and don’t want to give him bad information. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know. 5 miles at the most, probably a little less than.” His face twists hearing that and I’m not quite sure he’ll make it. I look back after the race and see that only 4 of the 9 people that started out on the course ended up finishing.
I make a pretty good push up an annoying slight incline to make it to the aid station at mile 23 and I’m very excited to see Rob, who is in first place overall, at this aid station. He’s grabbing some food, looking fine, but he doesn’t seem to be making any immediate moves to get out of the aid station. I refill some bottles, grab some food, and leave about 30 seconds after Rob. It’s making for a tight finish. Catching him at this aid station gives me some waves of adrenaline passing through my tired body. A win out here today is a real possibility.
For the next 6 miles or so, mile 23-29, I just tuck in and follow Rob’s pace. Even though I’m excited to be in the position, my body doesn’t feel particularly strong. I’m running flats and downhills fine, but terrain with a slight incline or more is becoming problematic to run. My legs are feeling twinges of cramps and the ability to generate the needed power to run uphill is systematically leaving me. I’m switching to lots of power hiking going up and Rob must be in a similar boat, as he stays within view.
In a shaded, single-trek part of the course I move past Rob and after putting some slight space between us, glance down at my watch. It read 29 miles, which I’ve been in second place for the entirety of that distance. I turn my attention to the current climb that’s vying for my attention, probably 300-400 feet in the next mile. I make myself run some of it, feeling like a fool if I waited this long to make a move and then get passed immediately after.
My ability to run up steep inclines is short lived and I reach the last aid station at mile 31 with a good amount of power hiking. I’m greeted by a familiar face, Greg Novacek, who is friends with both myself and Rob and seems to be getting a kick out of the two man race for the lead. I grab a fistful of fruit and refill one water bottle with electrolyte, and then begin a steep descent that causes me to feel everything in my quads.
As I make the last big descent of the race, about 500 feet in a little over half a mile, I’m thinking of nothing but moving as efficiently as possible and not completely blow myself up with exasperating my cramping legs to the point of not being able to run downhill or flats. That would be game over.
My watch reads mile 34 of the 36.5 mile race and I glance behind me to see if Rob is in view. Nothing. I haven’t seen him since making my pass at mile 29, although I think I heard him coming into the aid station as I descended out of there. While this is all going on in my head, I see a body blur by me. “I’m not going to make this easy on you,” is Rob’s one-liner as he passes me, retaking the lead. If he can sustain that type of pace for these last 2.5 miles of the race, then it really does belong to him.
I don’t fall apart after being passed at mile 34, just keep working steadily, and he comes back into view about half a mile later. I’m starting to close the gap on him and all of the sudden the cramps aren’t nearly the problem they were, and I push up a hill to repass and grab the lead again with only 1.5 miles left in the race.
It all hurts at this point, but I just grit my teeth and bear it, knowing any relaxing could lead to relinquishing this lead. I keep my foot on the gas all the way until the end where the road opens up and I can look behind my shoulder to see if I’m being hotly pursued. No one is in view and I let myself enjoy the last minute of this, coming into cheers from the crowd. Nathan is there to greet me and I see a few other familiar faces. As Rob comes into the finish line right after, we share a quick embrace and both agree to not do that again anytime soon. I end up finishing time is 7 hours, 15 minutes, 11 seconds and Rob’s is 7 hours, 16 minutes, 44 seconds.
Post-Race
I definitely went to the well in that race, so to speak, and end up taking the next 4 days off from running. During that time period, I get a small head cold and some tightness in my right calf, but both dissipate within 48 hours and I focus on getting myself ready for Western States Training Camp in two weeks. I’m really excited for camp, covering a total of 70 miles on the iconic Western States course within a 3 day time period. It’ll be great to not race, just go out and enjoy running. Surprisingly, or maybe not, Rob is doing Western States Camp, meaning we’ll have both run Lake Sonoma, Arnold Rim Trail, and W.S. Camp within a 7 week period.
