Distance: 50k ( 4,900 ft of gain)
Finishing Time: 4 hours, 38 minutes
Place: 2nd/ 86
Course + Lead up
The course is an out-and-back that parallels the San Joaquin River and is brand new trail for me. I’ve never been to the San Joaquin River, which feeds into Millerton Lake and lays 30 miles or so east of Fresno. The river stands as a gateway into the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and if you were to continue east, you’d eventually hit John Muir Wilderness.
Training has been going well leading into race day and dating back these past 8 weeks, I’ve put in my biggest and most consistent weekly volume ever, with weekly mileage hitting: 50 mi, 48 mi, 66 mi, 54 mi, 31 mi, 72 mi, 52 mi before leading into a taper. Add in about 8-10k ft of elevation gain per week and a few shorter, faster races and I’m feeling ready for this 50k.
Race
It’s dark and early on race morning, but I feel awake as my alarm goes off at 4:45. I make it to a local Starbucks at 5am, and get a yogurt parfait, breakfast sandwich, and a black Americano. The breakfast sandwich tastes surprisingly good, a revelation for eating this early in the morning.
By the time I make it to the race course, change, and get all things situated for the 50k, I’m 15 minutes away from start time. I go into a brisk warm-up jog for 10 minutes and then I move myself towards the front of the start line. There’s a largish group of runners for this race and the beginning is single trek, meaning you could easily get caught behind early and have a hard time passing.
A few minutes into the race race and I find myself in 3rd place, as we immediately begin with the biggest climb of the day, about 700ft in 1.5 miles. I’m running directly behind two other male runners, one who looks to be at least 6’3 and another runner who has a smaller frame. I feel pretty loose, and make conversation with the taller runner as we climb up. He introduces himself as Menlo. “I’ve done this race once, but it was on a mountain bike,” he says with an accent. “Only started running seriously about four years ago, when I had a kid. I couldn’t spend all that time on the bike.” He seems self-assured and could be tough as the day goes on.
The uphill gives way to a steep, long downhill and gradually Menlo and the smaller runner pull away from me. I decide to let them go as it feels too early to be pushing that hard. I check my watch and see that my third mile split was 6:53, meaning those two were probably running around 6:20 pace, smoking fast for a 50k.
At the same time, it’s not necessarily ideal to run solo while other runners are grouped together. If you can, especially in a longer race, it’s a good idea to “work together” and run with someone. You can follow someone else’s pace and footing, and running with others just makes the time go faster. I try not to think too much about as it’s still so early in the race.
As I hit the 6 mile mark, running solo in third place, I hear a man shout “First aid station down here!” He’s 200 yards downhill on the lake and maybe 1/4th of a mile off-course. Immediately after, he calls out “You don’t need to stop here if you don’t want!”. There’s no way I’m running down there right now or on my way back, and I make a big mental note to not expect to hit that aid station on the day.
By the time mile 9 rolls around, I have Menlo and the smaller runner back in my view and I’m closing the gap on them. I slowly reel them in and we run together as a pack of 3 for a few miles, and it’s great to just follow their pace. I’m running directly behind when a bottle falls out of the second place runners belt and instinctively, I bend down, pick it up, and toss it to him. “Thanks man,” he says and moves aside to let me pass so he can readjust. It’s the last time he’ll be in front of me, as it becomes a two man race between myself and Menlo.
I pass Menlo at mile 14, where there is an aid station and a mile before the turnaround. As I turnaround at mile 15 to head back to the start line, Menlo is right there and he must be only 30 seconds behind me. I check my watch and see that that we ran half the course in 2 hours, 12. That’s cooking fast as my “A” goal was to finish around 5 hours and I’m on pace for nearly 30 minutes faster than that.
I back off the pace slightly, to make sure I have enough in the tank for the last half of the race, and Menlo catches up to me. We hold conversation for about a mile and he tells me he currently lives in Santa Barbara and went to college at Cal Poly, the same area I grew up. He talks more about mountain biking and afterwards I check his Strava, and his bio reads “Professional Athlete”. That can mean a lot of different things but still, it’s good company to be in.
At mile 22, I take a big step to my left to avoid a cattle guard and get hit with cramps in my left hamstring that are so violent I have to stop moving. I cautiously begin forward progress and relax the pace. I’ve dealt with cramps before at races and it all seems related to intensity and pace- there’s a fine line of sustained intensity, especially going uphill, that I can push. I could feel that they were on the edge of cramping, so I’m not totally surprised.
Menlo has taken advantage of this and ran out of sight, putting me in second place by myself. Things stay this way for some time, and at mile 26 of the 30 mi race, I see another runner coming up from behind me who seems to be steadily closing the gap between us. This sucks, I think. All the normal doubts come up- you’re slowing down so much, he looks really strong. I try to remember that he surely, and everyone else out here, is going to be hurting this deep in the race and I think maybe he expended so much energy trying to catch me, he’ll fade from here. He gets so close to me that as I open another cattle gate, that I continue holding it so he can get in also. I take off running up a steady grade from there and he doesn’t quite keep pace, but every time I glance back, I see his white t-shirt right behind me.
Mile 28 is the big climb of the day, 700ft in about 1.5 mile, and I alternate between running and hiking it. All the little moments I can run are adding up and I’m getting out of sight of the third place runner who was closing in. The steep downhill for the last mile of the race finally comes and at this point I’m running on pure adrenaline, stoked for having such a great 50k to cap off an amazing 2023 run season. I run that last mile at 7:30 pace and cross the finish line with a smile. I jog over to Menlo, who has his shirt off and is sitting on the asphalt, and give him a fist bump. “When did you finish?” I ask.
“About 7 minutes ago, give or take.”
A mere two minutes after I finish, the third overall runner comes in. The three of us all finish within 10 minutes of each other, with Menlo @ 4:31 (a course record by 1 minute), myself @ 4:38, and 3rd place @ 4:40.
Reflection:
2023 was a fantastic overall year and I got to participate in all kinds of different events, ranging from sprint triathlons, to a 55 mi race in Tahoe, a Vertical Kilometer (VK) race in Mammoth, and much more. The first event I did in the year was FOURmidable 50k in Feb, which I ran in 6 hours flat. I finished this race, which was same distance and comparable in elevation gain and trail condition, in 4 hours, 38 minutes. To drop 1hr and 20 minutes in the 9 month span of the season is fantastic improvement.
I’ll spend the next few weeks giving myself a mental and physical break from running. I’m sure I’ll still do some runs, but also spend time on the bike, in the gym, and playing some fun sports like pickleball and basketball. I’m excited for 2024, and I plan to run QuickSilver 100k as my “A” race for the Spring and then leave another big race for the Fall. I want to take full advantage of my teacher schedule with getting a 10 day block off of work for spring break and then getting 8 weeks off for summer to put in big training during those times.
Lastly, big thank you to my coach Jason Pohl. He was a big support and resource to help organize my training and events, and it was fantastic to share the journey with him.
