When Rob M and I arrived Friday evening in Bishop for the pre race dinner I quickly made a beeline to the beer garden that was serving up free local brew for runners. The restaurant was buzzing with runners chomping on pasta and garlic bread. But when I lifted the clear plastic cup and pulled on the silvery spout, a loud, hissing sound nearly knocked me off my feet. The keg was already dead!
The Bishop High Sierra 100k is the first 100k I’ve ever run. Aside from its connection to So Cal Ultra Series, I chose this race because of its difficulty and reputation for old school charm. With two kegs killed before our arrival, the charm had warn off and the difficulty had begun!
We started Saturday morning under clear skies with the prospect of thunderstorms arriving in the afternoon. I’ve never seen lightning during a race, and I was looking forward to some fireworks to keep my adrenalin flowing. Even though lightening didn’t appear, the course didn’t disappoint. We climbed along a sandy and rock strewn trail for 15 miles and over several snow drifts until we reached the Overlook turnaround at 9’400’. Here runners were required to grab a hole punch dangling from a post to mark their race number as proof they made the distance.
Surrounded by the majestic peaks of the eastern Sierra, we continued along mostly fire roads for another 18 miles at an elevation between 7’500’ and 8’500’. At this altitude I chose to ratchet things down a little and save some energy for the miles ahead. Even though my watch was set to ring every 45 minutes to remind me to eat, I wasn’t getting enough calories, probably due to the extra effort needed to run at altitude. I devoured some chicken burritos at the Intake 2 aid station at mile 26.5, and washed it all down with Gingerale. Man that tasted good.
Then I remember being passed by another runner on a climb around mile 29. I reminded him we weren’t even half way. His double take said it all. As the miles ticked away, my confidence continued to grow. I decided to hold back until mile 35 when we began the long 15 mile descent back down to Bishop. Again, I said to myself knowledge is patience, and patience pays dividends in this sport.
It dawned on me during the race that getting through the last portion of an ultra is more about trust than your god given talent. It's about the trust you have that the pain will eventually fade, and better moments are sometimes just around the corner. It's also knowing that this trust is constantly being tested, because sometimes even greater difficulties are around the corner. But you keep moving forward, despite the challenges, and eventually you get through them.
When I reached Sage Summit aid station at mile 52, my trust was redeemed. From here I could see the turnaround some 1,000 feet below. I knew I had to run down and back up 1,000’ of switchbacks, but I also knew that once I made the final climb, it was just over 5 miles to the finish and all down hill. So after several more shots of Gingerale, I descended into the valley below and turned to make my way back up this stairway to the sky. The Sierras were gleaming by this time, and the sun’s rays were piercing through the clouds and highlighting the valley below. Before I knew it I was making my final steps to the finish line. My final time was 11 hours and 38 minutes, 4th overall and 2nd age group.
Another day at the office as Rob M would say.
The Bishop High Sierra 100k is the first 100k I’ve ever run. Aside from its connection to So Cal Ultra Series, I chose this race because of its difficulty and reputation for old school charm. With two kegs killed before our arrival, the charm had warn off and the difficulty had begun!
We started Saturday morning under clear skies with the prospect of thunderstorms arriving in the afternoon. I’ve never seen lightning during a race, and I was looking forward to some fireworks to keep my adrenalin flowing. Even though lightening didn’t appear, the course didn’t disappoint. We climbed along a sandy and rock strewn trail for 15 miles and over several snow drifts until we reached the Overlook turnaround at 9’400’. Here runners were required to grab a hole punch dangling from a post to mark their race number as proof they made the distance.
Surrounded by the majestic peaks of the eastern Sierra, we continued along mostly fire roads for another 18 miles at an elevation between 7’500’ and 8’500’. At this altitude I chose to ratchet things down a little and save some energy for the miles ahead. Even though my watch was set to ring every 45 minutes to remind me to eat, I wasn’t getting enough calories, probably due to the extra effort needed to run at altitude. I devoured some chicken burritos at the Intake 2 aid station at mile 26.5, and washed it all down with Gingerale. Man that tasted good.
Then I remember being passed by another runner on a climb around mile 29. I reminded him we weren’t even half way. His double take said it all. As the miles ticked away, my confidence continued to grow. I decided to hold back until mile 35 when we began the long 15 mile descent back down to Bishop. Again, I said to myself knowledge is patience, and patience pays dividends in this sport.
It dawned on me during the race that getting through the last portion of an ultra is more about trust than your god given talent. It's about the trust you have that the pain will eventually fade, and better moments are sometimes just around the corner. It's also knowing that this trust is constantly being tested, because sometimes even greater difficulties are around the corner. But you keep moving forward, despite the challenges, and eventually you get through them.
When I reached Sage Summit aid station at mile 52, my trust was redeemed. From here I could see the turnaround some 1,000 feet below. I knew I had to run down and back up 1,000’ of switchbacks, but I also knew that once I made the final climb, it was just over 5 miles to the finish and all down hill. So after several more shots of Gingerale, I descended into the valley below and turned to make my way back up this stairway to the sky. The Sierras were gleaming by this time, and the sun’s rays were piercing through the clouds and highlighting the valley below. Before I knew it I was making my final steps to the finish line. My final time was 11 hours and 38 minutes, 4th overall and 2nd age group.
Another day at the office as Rob M would say.