Squaw Peak 50

Wow, what a race.

At 4am, when the early starters began, so did the rain. It was just a drizzle at first, but by the time the main group started at 5am, it was pretty constant. I was faced with a decision: do I start with a jacket, or do I leave it in my drop bag for later. After thinking about it, and considering that this storm might be brief, I decided to leave it in my drop bag. I would come to regret that decision a few hours later.

The first stretch was pleasant, running downhill on the Provo Canyon trail (which is paved) in the pre-dawn hour. But after a couple miles, my right shin started bothering me. Now, when I had gone running the Thursday before, it had acted up, but I only ran two miles and had pushed myself. Previous runs of 8 miles had not been a problem for the few weeks leading up, but now it was. It might have been from my asphalt running (I had been mostly on the treadmill earlier), so this was a worrisome development, and I wasn't sure how long it would last.

After a few miles, we leave the paved trail and downhill, and begin a climb up towards Squaw Peak. The ground was very wet, and as we continued, the mud become really bad. My shin recovered on the uphill climb, and never was an issue the rest of the day.

As the climb got steeper, the mud became more of a problem. It was a slip-n-slide, with runs falling down. The danger was injury or just wearing yourself out. the grass on the side of the trail was sometimes just as bad as the mud. My time had slowed down considerably due to the conditions, and my goals for the day slipped away with so much mud. And downhill was just as bad, as you had to keep from losing control slipping down the hillside.

After a few hours, as we continued to climb, the rain turned to snow. Snow in June. Now, I was really regretting not having my jacket. I had started in a short sleeve shirt with a long sleeved shirt on top. And I was in shorts. At least I had my gloves and wool socks. The higher we climbed, the more the snow stuck, and soon we everything was covered with the white stuff. And it was cold. Cold to be wearing a wet shirt with an occasional breeze. Moving was my only hope from hypothermia.

After leaving Rock Canyon, it got even colder and the wind picked up. My arms were going numb and I began to feel my core temperature drop ever so slightly. I was now very concerned, thinking about pulling out my emergency blanket to try and warm up. But then the clouds began to breakup a little, and I could literaly feel the radiation from the sun coming through the clouds warming me up. I pushed on and began to warm up again. I had barely avoided disaster.

As we dropped into Hobble Creek, the snow was soon a memory, but the roads and trail were still muddy. A little farther down, I pulled my gloves off because I was getting too warm. The temperature was about perfect for running (40's to low 50's). I felt really good now. Turning onto the Left Fork road, I was able to run uphill. Last year, the heat zapped your energy on the road. This year, the cool temperatures and clouds made it pleasant. By the time I reached the aid station at the end of the pavement, I was within 30 minutes of my target. Things were looking up.

The next few hours I slowed down. More than I would have liked. I felt that I was lacking energy to push too hard. Coming into Little Valley, I decided that I need to conserve myself and not worry so much about time. I had a race in less than two weeks and needing to finish not completely spent or injured. I was going to enjoy the rest of the day and finish feeling great.

Last year, I left Little Valley dehydrated and drank all my water before Windy Pass, getting dehydrated again. This year, I stayed on top of my hydration (and the weather helped alot too), but I still wanted to have plenty of water for the long stretch to Windy. So in addition to the 2L hydration pack, I added a waist pack with two 24oz bottles.

As we climbed again, we began coming across snow fields. In fact, we climbed straight up on the difficult climb section a snow field. And had to summit a peak because of snow fields covering the trail. Windy Pass couldn't come soon enough, and I was glad to finally arrive. When the sun would come out, it got warm, but as soon as it disappeared behind a cloud, it was cold again. I kept my long sleeve shirt on and just carried my jacket around my waist.

After resting and fueling, I began the descent through snow. At first I was really cautious, but as I as went on, I was more confident and able to power through them. As I was already muddy and wet, I just ran through the mud puddles rather than around them. I was able to get a good downhill pace going and I quickly passed many runners that had passed me earlier on the climbs. My legs felt great, and it was fun to fly down the rocky trail.

I passed by the last aid station at Big Springs just calling out my number. I had water enough and I wanted to finish strong. I soon got warm and too off my long sleeve shirt for the first time. I ran for a couple miles until I saw a lady walking up the road towards me. Then realized it was Joye.

She had arrived at the finish and inquired on my progressed. They told her I had passed through the final aid station 30 minutes earlier and would be arriving any moment. An hour passed without me finishing, so we became worried (1 1/2 hours to go just over 3 miles downhill must mean I'm injured). She started walking up the road thinking I was almost finished. Turns out they were wrong, and I had only left Windy Pass, so she had walked a mile up the road when I met her. I decided to walk most of the final mile with her, telling about my day. Slowly, 5-6 runners I had passed since Windy Pass began passing me. I would finish in 14:25:15, just over an hour faster than my 2007 finish time.

Because I had signed up for the Big Horn 100 thirteen days after Squaw Peak, I decided I wouldn't kill myself on this race. The last thing I need was an injury. I was pleased with my final time, and lessons learned that day. It was a good race.