Chuckanut 50K - Bellingham, WA - 3/17/19

2019 Chuckanut 50K

Time: 4:20:59
Place: 13th
<iframe height='405' width='590' frameborder='0' allowtransparency='true' scrolling='no' src='https://www.strava.com/activities/2218039097/embed/29a757b927ef82f84cb8f1771bcfb7eae6c156da'></iframe>

I had high hopes for my second running of this race. As I wrapped up my time in Bellingham and that chapter came to a close, I pegged ever-higher hopes on a having a big day with a fast time to close things out in a celebratory fashion. With the way things in my life had been going, part of me wanted to go out with a figurative middle finger held high, and making a big statement at this storied local icon of a race was the best way to do that, and extract some vindication and closure for myself from the town I had called home for the last 16 months.

Unfortunately, winter refused to quit this year and nature had other plans. A couple weeks out from race day the forecast was looking chancy, and the Chuckanuts received snow a few times in early March, on top of what was already on the ground. I had done some long runs in said snow, so knew what to expect and had practiced wearing my new Kahtoolas, but I was still crestfallen that top-tier course conditions were no longer on the table. The race was actually relatively nice and the course was dry and in great shape everywhere there wasn't snow. The white stuff showed up on the latter 2/3rds of Cleator Road, a smidge on the ridge, virtually the entire Lost Lake Trail, Cleator Road again (of course), and the top of Fragrance Lake Road before hopping back on the Fragrance Lake Trail for the final descent.

Race Plan: Currently, I run almost exclusively in the Altra Solstice, a road shoe with no traction to speak of. It performs fine in all dry conditions for me, but is awful in mud and slushy snow. I had been curious about the Altra Superior 4.0, but didn't feel like buying a whole new shoe and busting it out for race day. In retrospect, that might've actually been the move, but I opted instead to pick up my Kahtoola Microspikes from my mother at aid station 1, along with a handheld bottle of Tailwind, and hold them both. My plan was to stop and quickly throw on the Microspikes whenever I encountered snow, and peel them off when I left a snowy area. From my knowledge of the course conditions, thanks to Krissy's well-documented Instagram stories, I figured this would take place about 3 times. Can't afford not to stop for a couple minutes total in exchange for great traction and a consistent pace, I thought! That one bottle, plus a top-off of water at the North Lost Lake aid station and a couple gels got me through the middle 18 miles, where I picked up a smaller handheld and one open gel for the last 10K.

Start to aid station 1 [6.5 miles]
We got a great parking spot close to the start, oddly deserted save for a few savvy elites. I rocked out to some tunes in the car while the rest of my party went on to Fairhaven Park. I don't do much before an ultra-distance race, aside from put on my kit, go to the bathroom, and some drills/strides/light jogging. With time to kill I just made sure I was warm and walked around. Fortunately I had the foresight to enter the Porta Potty before I really needed or wanted to because it took probably 15 minutes. I chatted with some strangers and friends, then squeezed myself into the human mass near the front by the line. There's a countdown from ten, and we're off. Being much better trained this year, I was prepared to and comfortable going out faster, in around 6:30 pace. Much less traffic this time. I felt excitement, but also a relief of pre-race anxiety. There were some friendly check-ins with familiar faces, but I mostly kept to myself. Just before AS 1, I could see the front of the race running back towards me and peeling off onto Fragrance Lake Trail, a 2 mile singletrack climb up to a small lake, which was still mostly frozen. When I lived in Edgemoor last summer, I loved nothing more than running up here, jumping in for a quick dip, and heading back home. 14 miles. I had been running with Sarah Bard, and later Ashley Hawks for the last mile or so, but lost a few places when I stopped to slam a gel and grab my first bottle and spikes. Only a few seconds probably, but I hustled to make the ground back up on the last bit of flat ground for awhile.

AS 1 to AS 2 [Miles 6.5-11.2]
No sooner had I left the crowds and cheering of the aid station behind, I noted a slight sense of foreboding that I didn't like carrying two things in my hands, and that this was going to be less fun than I'd hoped. The Microspikes felt a bit heavy and burdensome after about a minute, but it was too late now. I'm a decent climber so I plugged away on the ascent up to Fragrance Lake, making up a few places but trying not to push the pace like last year. After the lake section and once onto Two Dollar Trail, the tenth mile is a net downhill, albeit with some short upward humps. The first cracks started to show here, when I realized I didn't have another gear, and the guy behind me was gleefully chomping at the bit to clomp down the trail with abandon. That's a grim prospect 1/3 of the way through the race. Begrudgingly I let him go for now, wondering why it felt like my wheels weren't attached very firmly. I wasn't enjoying having my hands full, and even this early I think I realized that I was discouraged from taking in calories soon enough by the cumbersomeness of the task. Mile eleven sees you the rest of the way down the trail and then intersects with Cleator Road, a steady 1.9 mile climb up a well-maintained, unpaved service road up the mountain. The second aid station is normally at this intersection, but had been moved almost a half mile up, right about where the snow started, presumably to account for other aid stations shifting as well.

AS 2 to AS 3 [Miles 11.2-16.5]
Moseying right along past this one, the snow started to be a factor. There was a strip of bare ground on the side of the road that I and other runners were utilizing but it quickly dissipated and we were left to slog through the dry slush. Here is where I put on my Microspikes, the first and only time, but they didn't do much good as the snow was old, and had lost all its crystalline texture and much of its moisture. Every step, regardless of shoe, lugs, or traction device apparently, caused the snow to yield and a resultant backslide of the foot. My technique was to try and plant firmly, and lift up a bit more rather than a pure push-off. This is obviously inefficient but we all had to work with it. Picking my way through barely-there tire ruts, shoe prints, and dog tracks, I ground my way up to the top. Normally the 3rd aid station is at the summit of this climb, supporting runners and directing them to the left turn onto the ridge. This time there was only one person indicating the turn. I don't recall needing anything, but it was strange and  unexpected, like #2 had been. Someone else was behind me now, and the scarcity of snow and ice on this trail necessitated a quick pull-over to remove the Microspikes. I did this, and spent an inordinate amount of time fiddling with them, trying to get them back in their pouch. This is my least favorite part of the course, due to the technicality. With two free hands, it would have been a different story, but I had zero. I was grateful to have some guys to work with, but definitely wasn't feeling stellar and also lost a couple guys here that I hoped to reel back in later, and never did. Finally I recognized the final dip marking the end of the trail and was dumped out onto the North Lost Lake Trail, and immediately into the (St. Patricky) arms of aid station 3!

AS 3 to AS 4 [Miles 16.6-21]
A volunteer dumped some sort of fluid into my handheld here, I probably grabbed a GU or two (who knows?), and was on my way. I noticed David Laney, who hadn't started the race but definitely would have been at or near the front. Not sure why he didn't run, but it was cool to see him involved regardless. The snow was deeper here, and the trail rolls a good bit, so the going wasn't much faster than Cleator Rd, or didn't feel like it at least. I simply tried to run at a decent clip and not waste too much energy backsliding in the snow. For the rest of the race, I never put the Microspikes back on. I'm not sure how much it would have helped, but for whatever reason I kind of had a mental block to it. I just wanted to get it over with, and I'll never take conditions like last year's for granted (tore my shirt off at the first aid station). During this section (~miles 18 and 19), I moved away from the few guys I had been running with, and passed the polite and pleasant Ben Robinson I'd met the night before, wearing Normatecs at packet pickup. He probably wasn't having the best day, but he had a smile on nevertheless. After a relatively level section, there is a pretty significant climb. This is about the time I stopped having as much fun. Thoughts of dropping out definitely crossed my mind, although with less persuasion than crawling up Chinscraper. I was passed here by Tyler Cox, who I hadn't seen yet during the whole race but who was obviously having a good day, which was a bit of a blow to my already sinking hopes of a top-10 or near-to-it finish. Anyway, I plugged away at the rest of the climb until rounding the corner, at which point the rest of the South Lost Lake Trail is a descent until aid station 4 and the final big climb.

AS 4 to AS 5 [Miles 21-25.2]
Chinscraper is a steep trail that I've only run twice, this year during the race and last year. It's really steep and comes late in the race when you're itching to pour on some speed, but can't yet. That's not to say it can't be run well; people certainly do, I just haven't yet. Almost everyone does some hiking here; it's just so steep. I was feeling pretty forlorn until I caught up to my buddy Andrew Wise who suspected we were somewhere near 15th place, which came as a nice surprise. All no longer felt for naught, although I was already feeling a bit bummed about not running a fast time like I had trained so hard for, before the day had even concluded. There was still racing to be done! At the top of the climb, you pop out at the Cyrus Gates Overlook, a gorgeous sight to behold on a clear day, just all water and islands and such. Unfortunately, the snow was deepest up here and I had a heck of a time running in it. Although I don't remember the exact failure mode, it took me 9:38 to run a mile that lost 408 feet, so something definitely wasn't right. The next wasn't a far sight better, 7:59 while netting 530' in elevation loss. I fared better once out of the white stuff for good, hurtling down the twisty Fragrance Lake Trail down to aid station 5, the same way I'd gone up.

AS 5 to Finish [Miles 25.2-31.1]
Sweet baby Jesus did it feel good to drop those stupid Microspikes! I grabbed a small 12oz bottle of Tailwind and an open GU from my crew and took off like a bat out of hell, as excited to finally be let loose and run fast as I was to be almost done. At this point, you can almost taste the beer and finish line chow. (Oreos, chips, and black bean burger with avocado in my case.) Moments before at the last station I had been informed of my place, and I caught a guy after a mile or two, and held on for dear life, running practically the same pace for the final 10k as the year prior. There isn't too much more to say here, except I think I was holding together pretty well, all things considered, and was grateful to be in a pretty good finishing position. For all the miles I've run on the Interurban Trail, it never quite got old. One runs largely alone here as the field is so strung out, maybe running someone down, or trying to fend off a closing competitor. Even though you're running out of your mind, there is time and space to be contemplative. What really matters? What is it all for? The finish of the course was ever so slightly different, snaking into Fairhaven Park the back way through the Lake Padden Apartments. I didn't know exactly how much of a hump I'd have to run up in the last few hundred meters before the line, but thankfully it amounted to almost nothing. The rest of the day was filled with beer, food, friends, family, lovely weather and all in all it was the perfect send-off and goodbye to a place that will always be one of my many, many homes.