Distance: Vertical Kilometerish (2,400ft of gain in 3 miles)
Finishing Time: 47:18
Place: 14th/ 179
Lead-up
Christian has been living up in Bear Valley for the past few months and during a recent 20 mile run together we talked about the upcoming Mammoth Trail Festival. The trail festival is held in the Eastern Sierra in Mammoth Lakes, CA and has 3 different races spread over 3 days- 50k, 26k, and Vertical Kilometer (VK). Christian is already registered for the 26k and VK and tells me to tag along. “We had a friend cancel and an extra room is open,” he tells me. “It’s yours if you want it.”
I hesitate at first to sign up, but am ultimately lured in by nostalgia for Mammoth. For the past three summers, my parents have rented an off-the-grid cabin for our family in Mammoth Lakes Basin for a week during the month of July. Staying and training up in Mammoth has allowed me to come familiar with local trails, the altitude, and the town at-large.
The race I sign up for is the Vertical Kilometer (VK). A VK is a race measured by elevation gain, as opposed to distance. For the Mammoth Trail Festival version, the VK will be 2,400 ft of gain over the course of 3 miles up what is known as Dragon’s Back. A true vertical kilometer would 3,280ft of gain (1 KM= 3,280ft) but there exists very few mountains in the Lower 48 that continue to rise for that long. Adding to the difficulty is the course starts at around 9,000ft above sea level, and will get up to north of 12,000ft by the top.
Following the changing of leaves on Highway 395, I arrive in Mammoth on Saturday morning. Christian gives me the recap that he hooked a wrong turn at his 26k the day before and DNF’d. There’s a group of 7 of us and one of the runners is running the 50k today, and we eat, play ping-pong, and check out vendors while waiting for her to finish.
Race Day
Sunday comes around and I shuttle up to the Mammoth Lakes Basin where the beginning of the Dragon’s Back, the “trail” that is used for the VK. There’s 200 runners at the start and I scoot my way towards the front. It should be a powerhouse of a race with several sponsored/professional athletes. My one advantage is I haven’t raced so far this weekend, while my best guess is most people here have done either the 26k, 50k, or both.
The start goes off and we have a minute or two of flat running over Twin Lakes bridge before we begin the climb straight up. Heading into the climb and trail, I’m in 10th place and the first two overall females are right in front of me. Pretty quickly the oxygen depravation from running hard at altitude becomes apparent, and 1 mile in I start to alternate between running and a hard hike uphill. The third overall female is directly behind me and between noisy breathing, I hear her loudly announce “I got to move up” . With that she works around me on a section that is more scramble than run. She doesn’t look great but I don’t think anyone does- the race length is equivalent to running a hard road 10k.
I feel completely awful from miles 1-2 and my mind begins to question all decisions to enter this race. This is so stupid, why are we all killing ourselves to make it to the top of this insane mountain? It’s a really bad idea to entertain existential questions mid-race so I do my best to disassociate from the thinking part of my brain and shift my attention to focusing on my breath, which actually has calmed down a bit. Noticing this gives me a boost and I think hell, I only have another mile left.
At this point, I’ve been passed by a few folks since I got on the trail in 10th place, but not a whole ton. Rather than fading further in the last mile, I put in a little surge and create distance on another runner who seemed to be closing in on me. I’m a little far to catch the runners directly right ahead of me, which happens to be the first three overall females. I do have a great view of that race as we are well above tree line and have massive exposure, with crumbling quartz granite rock making up the last mile. With only two minutes left in the race, I watch a female pass and move into first overall. It’s the same female runner who passed me early on and I’m astounded at this, as I really didn’t think she’d be able to hang on to that type of effort.
I cross the finish line at 47:18 and am greeted by Christian’s crew. Christian comes in only a minute behind and says with devilish grin, “If I knew how close you were, I would have pushed to catch you.”
It’s absolultely freezing at the top of the course and when the rest of our friends finish, we take the gondola back down the mountain and into Mammoth. Breakfast ensues with the group and I order an acai bowl and a coffee. People break off from breakfast for their long car rides back to LA and I putter around town for a bit, debating on whether to buy cross-country skate skis. Finally the time comes and I get into my grey Tacoma to make the 3.5 hour ride back to Arnold, CA.
I loved reading the play by play of this grueling race. Congratulations!