Fifth year at the Mac

I blame (credit?) Clem. As I caught up with my Corvallis running friends over pizza and beer, after an evening run when I was back in Oregon in December, Clem suggested that I come back for the 20^th anniversary of the MacDonald Forest 50km …and, of course, then spend the next day, Mother’s Day, with my mom. 

Really, I could blame (credit?) Clem with this little running addiction in the first place. Clem is the founder of the MacDonald Forest 50km. The reason I ran my first trail race in 1997 was that one of my friends’ mothers was training for the Mac and wanted company on training runs and races. The second trail race I ever ran was the 15km that used to be run on the same day as the 50km. That was in 1998. I've been hooked since.

The Mac is hard. 8000’ of elevation gain over 31 miles. I’ve always struggled a bit at the race, even though the trails are my ‘home’ trails. Yet I love this race. The woods are beautiful, the support is great, and the ‘competitors’ are friends. So, really, all I needed was an excuse to sign up.

The only problem is, this year, the Mac fell less than 3 week after the Boston Marathon. While the soreness in my legs had faded, I could tell the week before the Mac that my legs still hadn’t fully recovered. Just no ‘oomph’. Add to that, while I did a few mountain runs over the past few months, most of my miles were on flat to rolling trails and road, with more focus on speed work than climbs and descents. I kept telling myself that I should think of the Mac more as a fun, hard training run, than a race.

Of course, stepping up to the starting line of any race, it’s hard to not also set some challenging goals. I decided that my “A” goal would be breaking 6 hours (my fasted time is 6:03), “B” would be 6:30 (my slowest Mac was 6:33), and “C” would be to just cross the finish line still wanting to run in the future.

Fringe-cup (Tellima grandiflora)

Race morning I fell into what felt like an hold, comfortable routine. Arrive early to get a decent parking spot and cheer on the early starters. Catch up with friends, and simply just soak in the smell and feel of the forest. The race started as it has for years, A short stretch along the road, followed by a the Callaway Creek Trail then the first big climb up Powderhouse Trail. My legs felt okay, but I could tell my body wasn’t fully there … it seemed harder to keep my breathing under control (and I’m used to running at 5200’ and higher!) and while not tired, but legs didn’t feel springy, like they would after a normal taper. But I was distracted enough by my surroundings. Tall Douglas-fir creating dappled light on the forest floor, wildflowers all around – fringe-cup, iris, bleeding hearts, camas, and the singing of birds overhead. My joy of being in the woods I call home increased even more when we turned onto the Old-growth trail. I will always be in awe of the the giants along this trail.

After we crossed Lewisburg Saddle, my mental-map of the race course was no longer accurate. Instead of heading down Alpha, we headed down Horse trail, then back up Dan’s. I usually prefer to run down Dan’s and up Horse, but I was still feeling pretty good and it was fun to have a different route. 

Linda caught up to me at the top of Dimple Hill. We chatted a bit about the ‘new’ course and she said that she just had to get to the the bottom of Extendo and could then fall apart. I thought that seemed reasonable – Extendo was the 3^rd of 4 aid stations, and only one big climb left after that. Problem was, heading up Dan’s, I got the first sense for how my legs would handle the climbs later. They didn’t hurt, these just didn’t have much to give. At that point, I essentially decided that I was done trying to meet my A goal and wanted to just keep having fun on the trails.

From Dimple, we started the section referred to, quite accurately, as the maze. Despite hundreds of runs through the maze, I still don’t have all of the trails and intersections memorized; and it turns out that I've usually run the trails in the opposite direction than we were running them during the race. That, combined with the fact that my body was increasingly telling me that it really wasn’t recovered from Boston, and time seemed to suddenly slow to a turtle’s pace (or, really, my running pace slowed to a turtle’s pace). Without the mud, my time in the maze should have been relatively fast, but it seemed to take forever to make it to the top of Extendo.

Usually I love running down Extendo, a soft, sinuous dirt trail, with swooping switchbacks and a relatively gentle grade. Instead, getting down Extendo felt like a feat of will and determination. I increasingly felt nauseous and was on the verge of tears most of the way down. To be honest, I

thought more than once if I should call it a day at the aid station. While I had to admit that fatigue probably played a role, I was pretty sure that most of the crappy-feeling was from being over-heated. I had been really good about eating a gel every 45 minutes, and didn’t really feel like I was bonking. I was hydrating relatively well despite the heat, drinking both from my pack and having a few cups of coke and water at the previous aid stations. I’d been taking an S-cap every hour, and my body had previously done really well with the Skratch formula that I had in my pack, so I didn’t think that it was just an electrolyte imbalance. However, this was the hottest run I’d had since last summer; my body definitely wasn’t used to the heat, which was obvious from my swollen sausage fingers.  Ugh. No good.

Running through the larkspurs

The one bright spot on this section was running through a massive patch of larkspurs, reaching nearly to my shoulders, right before getting to the aid station. Once I finally got to the aid station, I dumped a few cups of water over my head, which alone helped relieve some of the nausea. Then, one of the aid station helpers asked me if I wanted some ice – I thought of pacing Meghan at Western States and without hesitation said yes, and dumped one cup down my sports bra and a second down my running skirt. I’m sure it looked strange, but the relief was amazing. I grabbed a few s-caps, drank some coke and a cup of water, and ate a few potatoes dipped in salt.  I spent way more time in the aid station than I wanted, and certainly wasn’t 100%, but all thoughts of quitting had finally left my brain.

Although the ‘race’ had gone out of me, I was still enjoying myself. In the miles between Extendo aid and getting back to the Saddle, I tried to focus my thoughts on the beauty of the trees, the wildflowers that were in abundance, and how lucky I was to be out there.

Once at the saddle, there were only 6 miles to go. I was able to pick up the pace heading up the road, but once we turned onto Chimney trail, my pace slowed to what felt like a plodding hike. The trail was appropriately named given the heat streaming down. Ugh. It felt like it took forever to get to the top. Once I did, a few mountain bikers told me ‘only 3 more miles’ to the finish. Normally that distance would feel so short. Normally.

Managed to run across the finish line

I managed to get my pace to sub-9 minute miles until we made our final turn to Section 36 trail. My legs had nothing left in them for going uphill, and I again slowed to a plod. I tried to channel memories of pushing myself at Boston and Waldo once we headed downhill, but that ended when I caught a foot, luckily managed to catch myself, but in the process slammed my toes into the front of my shoes so hard that the pain nearly brought me to tears.  So I slowly jogged into the finish.

6:31:14. Surprisingly, not my slowest Mac. Definitely not my fastest, but considering the conditions (my body, the heat, and what I think is a harder course than my previous finishes), I don’t feel too bad about it.  As usual, the post-race festivities were wonderful – with runners, their friends, and families stretched out on the lawn, listening to live music, and cheering on the finishers.

I was happy enough with the opportunity to spend time in the woods I consider a second home, catch up with good friends, and earn my 20^th Anniversary jacket – but then the next day, realized that this was actually my 5^th running of the Mac (not the 4^th like I’d thought).  I finally earned my mug!!!

Many Many thanks to Ken and Dennis for continuing Clem’s tradition and putting on one of the best races I’ve ever experienced; thanks to Maistro for brewing another fabulous MacAle; thanks to Meghan for coaching; and a special thanks to Clem for starting it all.

Recovery:  Wine tasting with mom on Mother's Day