Peterson Ridge Rumble 40 miler

have a habit of contemplating entering a race for years. Since I started running ultramarathons, I've considered running the Peterson Ridge Rumble -- it took five years for me to actually enter. This year, they increased the distance to 40 miles, which also meant I was finally going to attempt my goal of running longer than 50km.



One of the things I love about ultramarathons is the attitude that most of the runners seem to have surrounding the events. Although we all take our races fairly seriously in our own ways, the rest of the time is about fun and camaraderie. You can't help but laugh when five people who are running a 40 miler end up collectively bringing a full cooler of beer for an overnight trip (at least we didn't drink it all the night before).

I'd been neurotically checking the weather all week, especially since we'd had a late snowstorm come through few days before the race. However, Sunday morning was actually somewhat warm and only a few, non-threatening clouds hovered over-head as I positioned myself near the back of the pack at the start. After some shuffling for a position I was comfortable with and a quick jump in the bushes (perhaps I'd gotten a bit too hydrated before the race), but when I found myself near Caballo. We ran together, with our pace kept in check by his heart-rate monitor. A few miles later, Drew, a former Corvallis-resident joined up with us, and then next 10 or so miles flew by as we chatted our way along soft-single track and dirt roads. The course wasn't very technical, and most of the rocks were easy to pick your way through, but that's what made them so dangerous. The ease of the trail could lull a runner into a sense of complacency, and sure enough, I found myself kissing dirt somewhere around mile 14. What a happy surprise - the ground was soft! I picked myself up, inspected my scrapes and cuts (minimal, just enough to help with that 'tough' look) and was able to keep up the pace.

Unfortunately, I lost Drew and Caballo when I stopped to eat a little at an aid station, but the rest of the race was still really nice. I took another digger, but didn't do much more damage (wow, that dirt was soft!). I was shocked when I looked down at my Garmin and saw that I was already at mile 20. My slowest miles were between 20 and 30 - nothing remarkable good or bad. At the second-to-last aid station, we made a turn for the mostly downhill final 10 miles. I could hear LocaDork in my head, saying that this is where the race should begin. I figured that from hear on out, everything was going to be new territory, so I might as well see what I had left.

I made a few calculations and realized that not only was I in good shape to beat my 7 hour goal, but had a slight chance of beating my slowest 50k time. There were several voices and thoughts in my head for those last 10 miles - Meghan's descriptions of her recent win at Way Too Cool, knowing that Pam had just made the US National Team for the 100k the day before, an old friend's advice that there's always more left to pull out of your gut - so I just ran hard. And I tried to run harder the closer I got to the end. The only major problem I had was when I run hard, I tend to have asthma issues; and I really have asthma issues when I get emotional. So when I looked down at my Garmin and saw that I was at a little over 38 miles and started to get a little emotional, I started having a pretty nasty wheezing spell. Figuring that I still had about 2 miles to go, I opted for stopping, taking my inhaler, slowing my breathing. Once I started and got another 200 meters down the trail, I saw that I was actually about 1/2 mile from the end. The emotion and wheezing came back, but at that point it didn't matter. Through the parking lot, onto the track, then crossing the line at 6:43:32. Just a bit slower than my fastest 50k; definitely under 7 hours. Yippee!