Arches 50k, 29 January 2022

I'm a little behind my desired fitness level.   Knee pain. Covid. Missed races.  Blah, blah, poor me.  I had signed up for the Arches Ultra 50 Mile in Moab, Utah, and was somehow sensible enough to downgrade to the 50k.  

Ice in the puddles

I had run this same race and distance a few years ago.  It was similar conditions today.  Cold.  More Cold.  Otherwise sunny, dry and absolutely beautiful.   The first couple of miles I almost froze to death.  I pulled my mittens over my gloves, then pulled all my fingers out of the gloves and made them into a little frozen finger ball and tucked them into my armpits.  My buff was over my nose and mouth, even if it might have made someone think that I'm one of those stupid mask people who ride their bikes alone, in the great outdoors, while rebreathing their own CO2 instead of fresh air.  19 degrees cold.

When the big blazing ball of fire crested the horizon, it was almost immediately warmer.  I doffed buff, then gloves, then my windbreaker, hat, and long sleeved shirt.  By the middle of the race I was in just a T-shirt and it was gorgeous.  

A new experiment for this race was half an ounce of Kava juice just before the start.  See my previous post about Kava and what you might expect from trying it.  

https://hikerdawn.blogspot.com/2022/01/kava.html

I have to say, the first few hours of the race I felt extraordinarily creative.  I often write my blog posts in my head as I run.  Sometimes I take a few pictures to remind me of a scene, and occasionally I even take notes on my phone.   They often read like the example below:

...

Mile 7: Finally pass a guy running in a pink bunny costume.   How did he stay ahead of me this long?

Mile 9:  Trip on a rock and fall on my face.  Pink bunny guy waltzes by my turtle pose without a care in the world.

Mile 12:  I realize that pink bunny man is a figment of my imagination.

Mile 13-14:  Spent wondering if I am slowly losing my mind.

Mile No Progress at all:  Lose my concentration and sit on a rock like Rodin's "The Thinker" while ignoring runners passing by and asking if I am ok.   A crowd gathers around me.

Mile 17:  Conclude that pink bunny man really is real.  I start screaming "WHY? WHY?"

Mile 18:  Wake up to Jim poking me and asking why I am thrashing in my sleep.  

....

Yeah, my notes go something like that.   And my photos are usually a close-up of my shoelaces as I drop my sweaty phone with swollen fingers that aren't working properly.  

The first half of this race was some of my fastest trail running in a while.  It was undulating and technical, but runnable and I actually ran most of it.  In fact I was able to maintain 6 mph for 2 hours which is further than usual.   The course visited all of the familiar trails on the East side of the highway as you approach Moab from the Interstate.  Lazy, EZ, Bar M, Klonzo, Wahoo, Gravitron, Vertigo, etc.   Circle-O was more fun to run than ride I always think.  It's a bumpy slickrock flat area where you follow the paint marks on the rocks so you don't get desperately lost.  It's tempting to cut the corners but I lost the trail once and when I found it again, I was running the wrong direction.  Passing runners is a bad sign.  It's not featureless, but when you are just staring at the bumpy rock and sand in front of your feet, it actually kind of is.  

The second half was only slightly more technical and with a few more hills.  Plus my legs were more tired.  I started wishing for a bike on the downhills.   Not the uphills really, cuz that sucks worst than anything.  Then I thought, hey, E-Bike!   I should dump all this running stuff and ride an E-Bike.  My next hobby perhaps.  

Definitely slowed down a little in the last third but not nearly as much as usual.   Wished desperately tho that I had been willing to carry a 1 ounce glass container of Kava for the second half as I was really curious what it might have done.  Next race it will be worth carrying I think.   Chewing a little nicotine gum and some caffeine didn't change much.  

Recalled that the first time I ran this, it had been with a sloshy camelback holding way too much water.  I remembered being proud that I could bypass a couple aid stations and keep running.  That was closer to the time when I was still used to running in crappy weather countries like England, and to a lesser extent, Germany.   I had to carry a lot of stuff with me in case the weather turned end-of-the-world-ish.   Here in the desert, not so much.   Chance of rain is usually near zero.  Worst case you might get a bit of wind.  

Anyway, I really hate the sound and feel of sloshy camelback and avoid it like the plague.   Plus, why should I pay for racing if I'm going to provide my own water?   Isn't the point of racing to carry nothing and pay $50-100 for the privilege of getting a couple of litters of water and a few snacks along the way?  Now I start with a mouthful of water in my bottle (for emergencies) and fill up at the first aid station.   

The math in my head said I was winning the race against my old self, and in fact I finished in 5:50, a full 23 minutes faster than my 6:13 time from 2018.    Jim had run the 1/2 marathon and also had a great, pain-free race, finishing in 2:18.  He had already gone back, showered, checked out of the hotel, and gotten us a sandwich, so we could head right home to Draper.

As a side note, our cattle dog, Spot, who to my knowledge has never gotten on any furniture except my lap and his perch near the window, decided to take liberties in the hotel.  We had neglected to bring his dog bed into the room, and in the morning we found him curled up on the couch.   What a prima donna.  

Here's the results:  https://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=84344

Following the painted lines