Run on the Mountains

Running the Trails in Downtown San Diego

Two of my favorite pastimes are running and travelling. Whenever possible, I like to make the two intersect. This typically results in urban exploration run, which I find is a great way to orient yourself and get to know a new city. In San Diego, I decided to try and get a decent trail run in, without leaving the core of the city. I'd read a bit about the trails in Balboa Park, so I figured this would be my destination. I was encouraged by the park's claim of "65 miles of trails", but prepared for mostly sidewalks and other paved routes. I was pleasantly surprised!

Florida Canyon

I spent the majority of my time running around Florida Canyon, which is easily accessible from the Rose Garden in the main strip of Balboa Park (near the zoo). It was a dusty run through a desert canyon - not what I was expecting to run when I set out that morning.

There is a long paved road along the bottom of the canyon, with a pretty complex network of singletrack and doubletrack trails spider-webbing along either side. Especially, with a few side trips out of Florida canyon to other parts of Balboa Park, it's easy to get a moderately long (mostly) trail run in without getting bored.

Provided Routes

Probably my only complaint about this run is the "provided" routes offered by Balboa Park. There are a large number of marked routes all over the park. I decided to start following one, once I got to the park, but had to give up pretty quickly. The route signs sometime point towards areas with no trails (or too many trails without offering clear direction), send you running on the narrow shoulder of roads into oncoming traffic (around blind corners!), are sitting in fields with nothing around them, or simply seem to disappear. I found I was having a better time once I gave up on the "routes" and simply ran on the trails that looked fun.

The Strava

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more... -Henry V, Act III, Scene I

Back to Yakima

Last year was my first time attempting Rainshadow Running's Yakima Skyline Rim 50K. It was also the first time the thought that I might not finish a race entered into my head. I finished the brutal trail run, but it was definitely a death march the last 6 miles in to the line. I told myself: "never again." So, of course, a year later I found myself back at the Umtanum Recreation Area, ready to start the race.

"Once more unto the breach." That's all that kept going through my head. Why was I doing this again? Too late for that, though. The plan? Repeat nothing I did last year. The result would have to be better!

The Day

It was a beautiful day. It can be chilly in this part of Washington in April, but it was actually comfortable at 7 AM. This actually had me a little nervous, as it might get pretty hot later in the day. No sense worrying about that, though... can't do anything about it but drink more water.

The (Terrifying) Course

It's just four climbs! Four "get your hands on the ground", never-ending climbs. People tell you that start climbing right away, and after about a quarter mile you hit some pretty decent ascents. It feels "tough, but not horrible"... and then you start the real climbs. If you can keep a good sense of humor, it's actually funny to hear the reactions of the people around. As you approach the top of the climb, you realize... it's not the top of the climb - there's a hidden summit requiring a little more pain. This course is cruel in so many ways.

One this course consistently does, though, is reward you for your hard work. The ridge run at the top of the first climb is as fun as it gets. Eventually the decent gets pretty steep. It's possible to bomb down it (I did last year), but most mortals will pay for that later (as I did last year), so I took it easy and enjoyed the ride. During the decent, you see a massive hill in the distance ahead of you. The thought that everyone seems to have is: "I'm glad we're not climbing THAT." Then, we climbed THAT.

Climb two is another tough one, but not the same caliber of the first climb. By now, the day was starting to warm up and people were getting pretty spread out. I was holding myself back to a very slow pace and kept feeling the urge to pick it up, but didn't want to burn out early. I waited till near the top of the second climb to really start moving, which was the right decision. There's another great, runnable stretch here. This was the first photo op I had with Glenn Tachiyama, so I was grateful that I wasn't suffering, yet. The decent to the turnaround point is EXTREMELY rocky and tough to run. I probably ran it faster than I should've, but downhills are my strength, so I couldn't pass up the chance to make up time (I ended up passing quite a few people here).

Great volunteers at all the aid stations, and the mid-point was no exception. There is a very brief dirt road at the bottom of the trail, which was a nice respite for my beat-up feet. Refueling done, I headed back up, up, up. These hills were no shorter the other direction.

For the most part, taking the first half of the race easier paid off: I felt strong and steady on the return trip. The final climb back up the "first" hill seems never-ending, and was the one part of the race where I cracked. It was likely some hydration issues: The temperatures are higher, the air is dryer, and the sun is brighter on the east side of the Cascades. This rain-soaked Seattlite wasn't quite adapted for that. Not that I can use geography as an issue: My fellow west-sider Dave cruised past me on the last climb like he had just started the race. Good for him... *grumble, grumble, grumble*

The race finishes with a very steep decent for 2 miles back to the finish. There are some tricky, rocky segments near the bottom. More importantly, there is delicious pizza and beer AT the bottom.

The Party

Like every Rainshadow race, there was a great party at the bottom. Lots of food and beverages (healthy and otherwise, but all delicious). It was great to share experiences and catch up with my trail running buddies that I haven't seen in a while. I told James Varner (the RD) that there was no way I'd run the race again, which I immediately followed up with telling him that I'm already looking forward to running it next year.

Results

This is a SLOW race. I managed to trim 11 minutes off of my 2013 time, but this race was still about 1 hour, 40 minutes slower than my fastest 50K. Don't go looking for a PR, but come ready to find out how hard a 50K can be.