Deadman Peaks 55K
Deadman Peaks 55K
Deadman Peaks came onto my radar shortly after Angeles Crest. After flying out to, and having to find accommodations for AC, I figured it would be nice to do something more local and low-key. With a bunch of my friends signing up for Deadman Peaks, I thought I’d join in. Training had gone really well, with a lot of weeks at around 60 miles and one week at 79, all on 6 runs per week (one day off, no doubles).
I drove up to Cuba on Friday afternoon with Marina, who was signed up for the 8 mile race (which we found out was actually a 10 mile race), ate some Indian food en route, and settled into our motel, preparing for a 6 AM wakeup. The next morning we got to the start at 7:30, checked in, and located the Socorro crowd. As the start time drew closer, we ditched our warm layers (it was ~25 degrees at the start) and made our way to the starting arch. We scrambled to take a group photo before the race was off, probably being a nuisance in the process, but got to the arch just in time to take off running.
Four of us, including my friend Michael (straw hat), took off quite quickly. My watch registered ~7:10 for the first flat mile. I was hoping to stay with the pack, but it was very clear to me that I couldn’t sustain that sort of pace, so I let the three of them go and ran along in fourth. The first few miles were a gentle uphill on sandy but compact singletrack. I was in no-mans land—stopping to pee a few times but seeing nobody. At mile 7, the trail took a left and essentially dropped off a cliff. I descended slowly on this steep, rocky section with big steps carved into boulders for about 300 vertical feet. Not long after starting this descent, I heard footsteps behind me, and this guy came plodding right past me, instantly disappearing out of sight. I thought I used to be good at technical descents, but apparently not anymore. We finished the descent off the plateau and entered a gentle downhill singletrack section into a valley, where the first aid station was. I attempted to pound the remainder of my water bottle (filled with Gu Roctane), emptied it, refilled it, and carried on. During this time sixth place hadn’t stopped and got slightly ahead of me, but I quickly caught back up and overtook him.
The next 8 miles to the turnaround was one of the more unique stretches of trail I’ve ever raced on. About a mile from the aid station we entered a section characterized by these big, bare sandstone rocks that were sometimes tens of meters long. On these rocks there was no trail, just cairns and flags to follow. It made for difficult running, since we had to traverse a lot of steep (albeit, very secure) rocky stretches, but it was unique and beautiful. As we got closer to the turnaround, I thought about something my pacer Malire had told me during AC 100. It was an ultrarunning mantra: “First half, don’t be stupid. Second half, don’t be a bitch.” I was still in the “don’t be stupid” phase and bracing myself to try not to be a bitch.
Around halfway through this section, sixth place caught me again. We yo-yoed for a long time. Since the rocky stretches were just wide-open spaces, it was no issue to pass when needed, so we went back and forth as our strengths and weaknesses dictated. Eventually, I decided I was sliding around in my shoes way too much on these rock-slopes and stopped to tighten the laces, and the guy was gone. I was now in sixth. It wasn’t long though before I caught and overtook the guy who had passed me on the first major descent—back in fifth.
As we neared the turnaround, I began to see the leaders and could estimate how far ahead they were. In first place was Michael, who I saw about 5 minutes before I reached the turnaround aid station. I cheered for him, to which he replied, “uugh.” He didn’t look great. Second and third were right behind, looking alright. At this point I was still feeling pretty solid, so I thought I may have a chance to catch up. At the aid station I refilled my bottle with water and Roctane powder, grabbed a couple extra gels, and walked off with a package of two Oreos that I munched on for a few minutes. I could see that sixth place was right around 6 or 7 minutes behind me.
During the next stretch I began feeling pretty worn out. These rocky sections were just slow, and on tired legs it was hard not to feel discouraged by how slowly I felt I was moving. I assumed sixth place would catch me at any moment, but he didn’t. Aside from the runners I passed going the other way, I was alone, continuing to feel pretty awful. After what felt like an eternity, I reached the mile 26 aid station with 9 miles to go. I was encouraged by the fact that aside from the one punchy climb that awaited in 2 miles, all I had was a gentle 7 mile descent. Since I was alone, I busted out some motivational tunes to reset the brain and headed towards the final climb.
Although the final climb was very steep and very slow, I didn’t mind it. This race didn’t have a lot of opportunities to settle in and hike, so this 10-15 minute stretch of pure hiking was a welcome relief. Still, I reached the top feeling pretty gassed and had a hard time finding the legs that I assumed I’d have for the final 7 mile descent. Instead, I felt pretty horrible. I entered into a phase where I ran and then walk-shuffled. It felt pretty pathetic at the time, but I think I was still managing to run (slowly) around 70% of the ground I was covering. It’s really hard not to convince yourself that you’ve fully blown up and are destined to walk it in, but over the years I’ve found that often times, just doing what you can and shuffling whenever possible is often enough to land a decent result. You have to just keep doing the best you can and moving forward as quickly as you can sustain, even if that isn’t very fast, so that’s what I did.
Alone again, I finished off the episode of Freakonomics Radio I had started earlier. This honestly sounds like a ridiculous thing to listen to near the end of an ultra, but I felt like I needed a distraction. Once that ended I probably had around 4 miles remaining. At this point, I was shocked that I was still somehow in fifth. It just goes to show that when you’re suffering, so is everybody else. Despite feeling like a pile of garbage, I decided that since I’d somehow hung onto fifth place thus far, I might as well try to hold it. It would be a shame if I lost it during a pity party 90% of the way through the race.
With this newfound motivation I started to pick it up, the legs started to push a little bit more, and I neared the finish line. I also realized that while my blind goal of 6 hours was out the window, 6:30 might be achievable. I pressed on, running as hard as I could manage, and crossed the finish line at 2:31 PM. My watch was dead, so I don’t actually know the final time. Since the race started 1 or 2 minutes late I think I squeaked in under 6:30, but I honestly have no idea. Somehow, I remained in 5th place from the turnaround to the finish. After the race, I located a Bud Lite Ice Tea (NOT, my first choice, but it’s what was in the cooler at the finish), found a chair, and threw on ~10 layers of warm clothes. Sam finished about 90 minutes later, Luis about 30 after that, and Trent and Kyle at some point after I left with Marina.
Generally speaking, this was a fun and gorgeous race with a low-key feel in high-desert New Mexico. I’d absolutely do it again.
Gear
· Coros Pace Watch. This watch has an absolutely outrageously long battery life. I forgot to charge it before the race and started with 14% battery. It still lasted almost ~4 hours and 45 minutes.
· Brooks Caldera 5. I’ve grown to love this pair of shoes. No issues. Felt great.
Nutrition
· Strawberry hibiscus Gu roctane. I think I had around 200 calories in each bottle, and I drank four bottles. This stuff has been working for me. It tastes pretty light considering how many calories it has.
· Gu. I probably ate 5 or 6 Gus during this race. Much less than I would normally, but since I was getting 100-150 calories per hour out of the Roctane, I didn’t eat as many.
· Oreos. Oreos are the lifeblood.
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