Susan Donnelly

San Francisco, May 1, 2010 (May Day!)

People always ask what an ultra’s like, so this time I’m putting you in the driver’s seat.  Let’s go!

Coming Into the Race

Last year, clouds dumped rain and the wind blew an unending fog onto you the entire day.  You were cold and couldn’t see a darn thing.  This year, you were lucky enough to get in through the lottery again and unlike last year, the weather forecast looks perfect – sunny with highs in the 70s.  Real California weather.

The race traverses 62 crazily scenic miles along the ocean cliffs of the Marin Headlands, the huge redwoods of the Muir Woods, and the grassy hillside of Mt. Tamalpais.  And you even get to see most of it twice: except for the first and last few miles, it’s essentially an out-and-back course.

You’re still fairly stiff and tired from running Zane Grey 50 mile the weekend before, and Massanutten 100 is only two weeks away, so your only semblance of strategy here is to enjoy the scenery and finish.  Of course, you’re tempted to spend the entire race reveling in the scenery and likely miss the tight cutoff at the turnaround (well, the 36 mile mark).  Thankfully, your running partner understands this and manages the pace so you make the cutoff and finish too.

Imagine what it would be like…

Out

It’s 5:40 a.m. and dark but the start on the beach at Rodeo Lagoon is prettier this year because you can actually see the ocean and beach in the moonlight.  The course follows some road, then a few trail out-and-backs and a nice view of the Golden Gate bridge before arriving at the Bunker Road aid station (6.2 miles).  It winds around on some extremely runnable trail and descends pleasantly into the Tennessee Valley aid station (11.9 miles).  You’re lucky enough to get to say hi to Stan Jensen who’s working the aid station.

From here, the scenery gets serious.  You wind up wide dirt road/trail, just knowing the ocean will be in view at any moment.  You might even encounter a California hiker with his white pet bird on his shoulder, a truly California sight.

And there it is – the ocean!  You wind along one of the prettiest trails you’ve seen toward the Muir Beach aid station (16 miles).  You get something to eat and drink – need to watch your hydration today after the hot race last weekend – then get out of there as quickly as you can.  Looking around on your way out of the aid station, you pick out one of the houses clinging to the hillside for when you win the lottery.

Then it’s off toward the Muir Woods with lots of other runners, like Amy Dodson.  Running from the sunny, open shrub-land along Highway 1 into the quiet, dark hugeness of these trees is like walking into a cathedral, and just as spiritual.  There’s nothing like it.  The trees are so much older than you and will likely outlive you.  It would be fun to talk to one of them.

At the edge of the woods sits the Pan Toll aid station (21.7 miles).  This marks the start of the Coastal Trail section that seems to parallel the perfectly-named Panoramic Highway.  Along this section, you weave continuously in and out the side of the ridge, from brief, dark sections of mossy woods out into the bright, open grasslands of Mt. Tamalpais.  The contrasts couldn’t be more startling.  Sunglasses, no sunglasses, back and forth and back again.  All the while, you’re running a narrow trail along the side of a huge hillside that falls down to the ocean – lose you sense of balance and you could tumble a long, long way.  The trail isn’t wide enough for two, so it gets a bit tricky when you finally encounter the leader on his return and then all the other runners following behind him (not to mention all the hikers later in the day when you’re returning).

The sun/shade combination eventually gives way to the dark forest of big trees again and you reach the Bolinas Ridge aid station (28.4 miles).  The good news is that so far, you’re well hydrated and seem to be doing ok on your calorie intake, so keep doing what you’re doing.  You fill up your bottle and grab something to eat.  Now is the final push to the turnaround cutoff.  You’re running through more majestic redwoods, in awe of their size and strength, feeling like a little mouse scurrying around their feet.  But as wonderful as it is to run the cool shade of these giants, you’re thinking instead about that left-hand turn down to the aid station.

Where is it???  You’re passing plenty of other runners on their way back to the finish, people you know and shouldn’t be too far behind.  The clock is ticking and your running partner is acting a little stressed.  You can picture the turn from last year and every time the trail takes a right-hand curve, you just know the turn will be there, or maybe the next…

Finally, there it is and you take the steep descent to the Randall Trail Aid Station (35.6 miles) as fast as your tired legs can stand.  Neither of you is talking about cutoff, you’re just doing the best you can.

It’s a huge relief to roll in 20 minutes ahead of cutoff.  Now you can afford a more relaxed and stress-free return.

Back

You hike back up the loooong, steep hill, encouraging the runners behind you and hoping like crazy they make cutoff and wondering if they will.  Finally, you reach the top and take the right-hand turn back toward the Bolinas Ridge aid station.

You can take some photos now, but the trees don’t fit in the viewfinder.  It’s hard to imagine how to tell someone what it’s like to run through all these patient, beautiful old things.

Arriving back at Bolinas Ridge (now 42.8 miles) signals your return to the grassy, sunny section.  By now, the sun has warmed things up (you hope your sunscreen is still working) and the wind is blowing hard, trying to knock you off your feet.  Looking at the scenery while trying to run on this narrow ledge gives you vertigo, so you keep your eye glued to the trail lined with blue lupine and orange poppies, and take in the views only through peripheral vision, spare glances, and some occasional outright scenery stops.  It’s easy to see why people write songs about this area.

At Pan Toll aid station (49.5 miles), now crowded with hikers and families out for the day, you grab an extra shirt from your drop bag in case it gets cool later.  Fill up your bottle, find something from the table to eat, and it’s back through the Muir Woods.  The day is going fast and it’s hard to say hello and goodbye one last time to these magnificent trees.  They feel so peaceful and sheltering, it’s hard to leave.

You retrace your steps along the trail paralleling Highway 1 until you reach a left turn onto the Miwok Trail.  The rest of the course from here to the finish is different from what you ran in the morning.

The trail winds uphill through some alarmingly close poison oak, to a ridge with some panoramic views of Mill Valley, Sausalito, San Rafael, and the whole surrounding bay area.  From here, you take wide dirt trails into the Highway 1 aid station (54.7 miles), scattering occasional coveys of quail that have ventured onto the trail in the setting sun.

From Highway 1, you wind your way along more high, wide trail with more wides views of civilization below until you descend again on the quieter, ocean side of the ridge to the Tennessee Valley aid station again (now at 58.4 miles).  It’s the last aid station.  When you leave, the next stop will be the finish and this adventure will be over.  It’s hard to believe you’re almost done.  You went out conservatively (though fast enough to make cutoff) and you feel better now than when you started.  How can it be almost over?

You climb a gradual uphill on dirt trail wide enough for two, catching other runners here and there on a gradual climb.  The sunset behind you has turned the few high clouds red and peach and gold the ocean picks up the same colors.  A mile or so later, the same clouds are bruised, purple-blue and it’s time to turn on the lightweight headlamp you’ve been carrying the whole time.  Not everyone has a headlamp or is feeling as good – some runners are out longer than they expected – and you all have a few miles left to go.

Around another corner of the hill top, you see bright lights of San Francisco across the inlet to San Francisco Bay.   On the city side, fireworks are exploding over the water.  Today was the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon, so the fireworks must be for their finish but you pretend they’re for you too.  After all, you probably have a better view!

The lights of the finish are visible on the beach far below you and there are a few headlamp lights bobbing along the switchbacks in between.  The distance looks short but it takes a good 15 minutes to get there over the switchbacks and stairs.  The closer you get, the louder the surf crashing on the rocks.  And before you you know it, before you’re ready to give up the fun and go home, you cross the finish line to be greeted by Tia Bodington, the RD, with the sound of surf and the busy voices in the race tent next door.  Where did the day go?  Surely you just lining up at the start a few moments ago.

End

That’s a quick sketch but I hope it gives a small taste of what it’s like.  Everyone always asks what you think about during a race this long and the question inevitably stumps me.  There’s so much to see and think about along the way that the time goes faster than it would any other way.

So keeping running along with me – more races and other stuff to come.  Next up, Massanutten!

Posted: Sunday, May 30, 2010, 2:50 pm | Tags: Blog | Respond | Trackback