Race Information

• Name: Quad Rock 50 miler
• Date: May 8th, 2021
• Distance: 50 miles
• Location: Fort Collins, CO
• Website: https://gnarrunners.com/quad-rock-info/
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/5264917891
• Time: 12:42

Goals

Splits

Mile	Time
10.3 mi	2:09
14.1 mi	1:04
17.5 mi	0:44
24.9 mi	1:50
32.3 mi	1:55
35.7 mi	1:16
39.5 mi	0:59
42.7 mi	1:07
50 mi	1:35

Training

So, a bit of background. My big goal race for the year is Western States in June, so I planned to use this race (Quad Rock) as a tuneup to see where I’m at training-wise. Typically this race is very hot, and the course is pretty exposed, so I figured it would give me some heat practice for Western States. The elevation profile is a bit tougher than States (~220 ft/mile vs 190 ft/mile), but obviously it’s also half the distance. I’ve been working with a coach since mid-January (Kimber Mattox with Chaski). I’ve averaged approximately 48 mpw for the last 12 weeks, with one weekly workout (going from VO2 Max to Hills to Threshold focus) and typical long runs in the 14-16 mile range on Saturday and a 10-12 mile run on Sunday. This volume and long run distance is honestly lower than I would have done on my own in prep. However, I did do a 27 mile run in January for my birthday and then 3 weeks before Quad Rock I did a ~35 mile day that consisted of a solo marathon distance long run in the morning and a 4 hour hike in the afternoon. For a more detailed look at my training leading up to the race, feel free to creep through my strava.

Pre-race

I drove up to Fort Collins Friday night after my friends convinced me it would be a stupid idea to wake up at 2:30 am and drive up the morning of the race. I had to drop off my drop bag by 5 am, and the RD told everyone to give themselves 20 minutes for parking and walking to the start/finish area, so I knew I had to get to the park by 4:30 am-ish. Woke up at 3:15, made shitty hotel coffee, finished packing my drop bags and getting my vest all packed with goodies, got dressed, bathed in sunscreen, almost locked myself out of the hotel room by forgetting the keycard, and finally hit the road at 4 am. After dropping my drop bags and grabbing my bib, I hung out in my car for a bit to wait until it got closer to race start time (5:30 am). At around 5:15, I meandered over to the start and threw on my headphones to listen to some energetic music to hopefully wake myself up. Chatted for a few minutes with one of the race photographers who was curious to know why my bib said “Tater Tot”, and then got lined up for the start. As I stood there, I went over my race goals in my head: finish before cutoff (14 hours), try to go sub-13 hours, and make sure I ran at least part of every single mile no matter what. I knew that while there would be plenty of hiking involved, there would always be some flat or downhill that I would need to take advantage of, especially later in the race when I got tired.

Race

After a brief countdown, the race started. I had tried to place myself somewhere in the middle of the giant pack of people, but apparently I didn’t do too well at that. I think I got passed by at least a hundred people in the first mile (which, according to the tracker, I probably did considering I was in 112th place at the first checkpoint). I averaged around 9:50 pace for the first 3 miles, which felt way too fast for me considering how much further I had to go, so I tried to just let people speed past me without trying to hang onto them. My philosophy tends to be “if they’re passing me, they’re either fitter than me (and I’ll only ruin my own race by trying to hang with them and blowing up) or they’re going too fast and they’ll blow up and I’ll pass them back”. So I just tried to stay chill. After the first few miles of small rolling hills, we hit the first big climb up Towers Road. This is where I had to re-learn how terrible of a hiker I am. I lost count of how many people just blew past me on this hill. I know all the “tricks” for faster hiking, small steps, lean into the hill, whatever, but my hike speed is just abysmal. It’s something I really want to work on in these last 7 weeks before Western States. Anyway, I slowly suffered my way to the top of Towers, refilled my water at the aid station, and started to head downhill towards Horsetooth (mile ~10ish). This section is mostly downhill and fairly technical, so it was pretty much perfect for me. I passed probably about 10 or so people in 3 miles. Technical downhills are probably one of my favorite parts of trail running, and I threw myself down the trail with reckless abandon, no thoughts of trying to save my quads for the next 40 miles. The last half mile or so before hitting the aid station is basically a sand path with a few rocks here and there, nothing technical or difficult. Of course, because of who I am as a person, I managed to kick a rock and careen into the dirt, smashing my knees and hands into the ground before flipping over onto my back and skidding on my shoulders for a few feet. After taking a second to lie in the dust, curse my lack of grace, and check to make sure nothing was broken, I got up and jogged the final few feet to the aid station where a lovely volunteer checked to make sure I was okay. After reassuring him that I was fine and the blood just looked worse than it felt, I took a minute to refill my water and make another flask of roctane before heading off back up the hill to the Towers aid station again.

Yet again, I was being passed by what felt like hundreds of people on the uphill (according to the tracker it was only 13 people but I swear there were more). A handful of them were people who I had blown by on the downhill, and I had the feeling that we’d end up yoyoing all day. At this point, I started to get pretty grumpy and hit a bit of a low patch. I think it was partially brought on by the fall and partially from being frustrated by my shitty hiking skills. I was hyper aware of my knees, and spent the next 10 miles debating whether or not I should drop out when I got back to the start/finish area at mile 25. I told myself that I’d have a great excuse, and everyone would totally understand dropping out when I showed them how bloody and beat up I looked. This grumpiness and wimpiness continued all the way up to the Towers aid station, and all the way downhill to the Arthurs Rock aid station. The grumpiness was actually compounded on the downhill section, because I was running fairly slowly and cautiously on the downhill, which is NOT how I like to run downhill. It does not spark joy. But, I didn’t exactly trust my recently battered knees to have the structural integrity needed to bop over the rocks like I usually would. After Arthurs Rock aid station, it’s a ~7 mile section to the start/finish, half uphill and half downhill. The downhill is a beautifully smooth and groomed gradual downhill with barely any technical sections. I was still down in the dumps for the uphill (just lugging my useless body up the mountain while cursing the stupid Western States lottery with every single breath), but once I hit the downhill everything changed. I just started cruising along, even hitting a sub 9 minute mile, giant smile on my face and happy as a clam. According to the tracker, I passed about 14 people in this section. By the time I got to the start/finish aid station, I was in the best mood and had zero thoughts about dropping out. Refilled water and roctane, grabbed some more Gu’s from my drop bag, grabbed some watermelon and gummy bears from the volunteers, and headed out for my second loop.

As I headed out for my second loop in high spirits, I knew the next 7 miles would be rough. I had a long uphill ahead of me, totally exposed, in the midday sun. I had my soft flask of water and another one of roctane, but I had also grabbed a third smaller soft flask of water to use for one single purpose: dousing my head and chest with water whenever I started to overheat. It came in handy several times during this climb. I spent most of the climb with the same small group of runners, a few guys and one other woman. I was finally managing to hold my own on the climbs and not be totally left in the dust. It turns out, while my “fresh” hiking speed isn’t very fast, I don’t slow down all that much when I get tired, so I begin to catch up with everyone else as they slow down more. Once we reached the top of the climb, a few of us actually cheered out loud. On the descent into Arthurs Rock, one of the guys just tucked right in behind me and we ran down together. Once we got into the aid station, he actually thanked me for pulling him down the hill and we chatted for a moment. We would go on to spend the next 6 or so miles together as well. Usually in race, I spend most of the second half of the race alone as the field spreads out, so it was nice to have a buddy for awhile. This aid station was the first to offer ice, which was thrilling. I immediately took two cupfuls of ice and stuffed it down my sports bra. Truly one of the biggest advantages of being a woman is being able to use my sports bra as a pocket. Ice in the bra is one of my favorite heat tricks, as it really helps keep my core temperature down. Once I was sufficiently iced, bottles refilled, and gummy bears obtained, I headed off up the hill to Towers aid station.

This climb was fucking brutal, no other way to describe it. It’s “only” 3.4 miles, but the climbs are super steep and technical and it just feels like it’s never going to end. I kept trying to keep my eyes open for any sort of recognizable landmark from the first loop so I could try to estimate how much further we had to go, but it was useless. I spent the entire section yoyoing with the same group of people I had been with from the start/finish area, and we kept laughing about how ridiculous the climbs were and how long it felt. Finally, I hit the top of the climb and got to jog down the little bit of flat trail into the Towers Aid Station. The cruelest part of this aid station was seeing the faster runners who were there for the last time before heading off for the last 7 miles into the finish, and knowing I still had about 14 more miles to go before I was done. But, nothing to do but keep going. After refueling, I took off down the trail to Horsetooth aid with the same group of fellas I had been hanging with. This section was mostly downhill, but the first mile was deceptively hilly and we all became convinced that the volunteers had lied to us and there was way more than 500 ft of gain. Eventually we hit the actual downhill and I just tucked in behind the two guys I had been running with and stuck to them until we made it to the aid station. We caught up to a few other runners who I hadn’t seen since they passed me going uphill at around mile 12, so I felt pretty good about that. In the aid station, I yet again refilled my bottles, grabbed some Gu and gummy bears, and hit the road. I knew the next section was the last big climb of the race, and I was ready to get it over with. Somehow, I managed to pass 8 people in these 3 miles of climbing. I just suddenly felt like the energizer bunny (if the energizer bunny was moving at a 20 min/mile pace). I was running every single downhill and flat section, no matter how short, and even running the more gradual uphill sections. I started passing people I hadn’t seen since the first 5 miles of the race, all of whom had adopted that slow weary trudge you see at the end of an ultra when you might have gone out a wee bit fast and don’t have any legs left (speaking from experience here).

Before I knew it, I was back at Towers aid station for the last time. Refill bottles, get gummy bears, rinse, repeat. Gummy candy is my go-to ultra fuel, if you haven’t noticed. I think half of my calorie intake at Javelina in 2019 came from gummy worms. Anyway, I knew the last 7 miles was pretty much all downhill (I think someone said it was 500 ft uphill, 1,500 ft downhill). Not going to lie, I was pretty terrified of the downhill at this point. I knew it would be hell on my quads, and I didn’t want to have to be reduced to a walk because of it (I also didn’t want anyone I had passed to catch me because I ran out of legs in the last section). I started off with a sloooow jog downhill, just trying to get as little impact as possible on my poor quads. As I shuffled, I started to see runners ahead of me walking slowly down the hill. This may have ignited a little bit of competitive fire inside of me, and I immediately sped up my jog. I ended up passing about 5 people on the steep downhill section before hitting the last ~3 miles of small rolling hills. I was so close at this point and I just wanted to get my ass across the finish line already. I got into a groove with my shuffle run (not to brag but I was managing a positively blistering 12 min/mile pace), and decided I was going to try to run as much as I could until the finish. I ran the gradual uphills, the flats, and the downhills. I think I caught another 4 or 5 people in this last section, all of whom were either walking completely or only running the downhills. The last mile or so, I started to feel what may have been the early signs of an asthma attack, chest getting tight and hyperventilating a bit, so I slowed down and threw in some more walking. Once I could see the finish line though, I couldn’t let myself walk anymore (and it didn’t hurt that there was another runner right ahead of me who was slowly walking, and I really wanted to catch one more person before the finish line). I finally made the last little turn onto the road and started sprinting (aka, like 9:30 min/mile space) down to the finish. I crossed the line at 12:42, beating my sub-13 goal and accomplishing everything I set out to do that morning, and I swear I felt like I could do 1 or 2 more laps (not that I would have enjoyed doing another 25-50 miles, but that I could have suffered through it).

Post-race

Crossed the line, got my finisher’s mug, and instantly collapsed onto a bench. After sitting in a heap for about 30 minutes, I got up, grabbed my drop bags, got in the car, and started to drive home. After about 45 minutes of driving, I realized I hadn’t eaten any real food since 4 am, so I made a pit stop at Wendy’s for Emergency French Fries. Once I was sufficiently fueled, I finished the drive and faced my biggest challenge all day: two flights of stairs up to my apartment. Luckily no one was around to watch me hobble up.

So here I am, with about 7 weeks left until Western States. This week will be a recovery week (I hope, considering it’s Monday and I’m still hobbling around like I’m recovering from a double hip replacement). I have about 4 or 5 weeks of real training time before I have to taper. To be honest, I am slightly terrified at the thought of running 100 miles in less than 2 months. I am less terrified now than I was before Quad Rock, however. The fact that I felt so good at the end of the race makes me feel more confident about being able to run twice the distance soon.The next big block of training will be focusing on volume and vert, with some bigger back to back long runs (my coach suggested doing some back to back 25ish/15ish milers, which sounds terrifying and fun). I think once i have those bigger long runs under my belt I’ll feel a bit more confident. I was really nervous going into this race about my “lack” of long runs, because in the ultra world it doesn’t really feel like you’re doing a “real” long run until you’re in the 20 mile range. So this race, while about 3.5 hours slower than my 50 mile PR, was a big confidence boost that I can run an ultra without back to back 20s. It was also my first trail ultra since October 2019, so it was really great to get back into the swing of things and remember how to do this shit before Western States (arguably the most important race I’ve ever done/will ever do). Overall, I think I had a fantastic race all things considered, and I’d highly recommend Quad Rock to anyone interested (or, really, any race put on by Gnar Runners). Course marking was fantastic, aid stations and volunteers were amazing, and the race atmosphere was perfect. Couldn’t have asked for a better “return to racing”.