Mount Taylor 50K Race Report — A New Mexico Classic

     The Mount Taylor 50k is a fixture of New Mexico trail running. The race is capped at 170 runners and typically sells out in the spring, with a sizeable waitlist. I missed the race in previous years as I was too slow to register, but this time I got in quickly. Having run the Philmont Ranch 50 Miler 7 weeks ago, and with Deadman Peaks 50 mile my next major goal, I decided to use Mount Taylor as a tune-up. I took the day-before the race off, but ran 11 miles on the prior two days, with Thursday being a challenging session with hill reps and a 15 minute tempo run.            

     In general, I’ve had much more structure in my training than in previous years. I’ve put in decent miles, getting up to 70-75 miles/week for most of my training blocks, but I’ve also alternated my intensity quite a bit. Some runs have been exceptionally easy (for me, 9-10 minute miles), while others have been quite tough and involved speedwork and hard efforts in the middle of 3+ hour runs. In other words, I’ve been cracking the whip more than normal. Additionally, I’ve looked at my fieldwork as more of a complement to training rather than an impedance to it. Immediately after my 11 miles including speedwork on Thursday, I hiked around in the desert with my colleague for the better part of four hours while we removed equipment. In the past, I think this would’ve frustrated me a bit, but lately I’ve been looking at it as some additional zone-1 training. Since I’m not a pro athlete and can’t just ride my bike around all day after workouts, I should view my fieldwork as an opportunity to build on the structured training I do.

     Despite training through this race, I had every intention of running as hard as possible at Mount Taylor. I recover quickly from these things and figured there was no need to leave anything in the tank. On Friday afternoon, Luis and I loaded up my car and headed toward Grants, NM. Check-in was excellently organized, and we loaded up on some pre-race pasta and headed up the mountain to set up our tents and settle in for the night.

     I woke up at 4:45 AM a good hour and 45 minutes prior to the start. I didn’t intend on waking up quite that early, but in my view, I’d rather lose a tiny bit of sleep than be stressed out over completing my morning rituals before start time. I checked mountain-forecast at the last minute and was quite startled to see that there might be 32 degree windchills near the high point on the course—yikes! I hadn’t planned on bringing any extra layers. I felt a bit better when I got to the start line and saw my friend Cliff Matthews standing there shirtless and ready to go. I ducked into the woods a few minutes before the start to pee, and then returned to a group of folks. Suddenly, my hands felt empty, and I realized that I didn’t know where my water bottle was! I panicked and looked frantically for it—I must’ve set it down somewhere. With 6 minutes to go before the start, I considered running back down the hill to my car and just grabbing a random bottle from there, but eventually I spotted it on the table next to the drop bags. I must’ve set it down while sorting that out. A little startled from that minor panic, I calmed myself down and joined the cluster of people at the start. After a few more minutes of chatting, the countdown began and we were off and running.

     

     This race can be thought of in three parts. In the first third, a long runnable 1400’ climb and descent on dirt roads. Next, 10 miles of steep rolling hills on the continental divide trail. Finally, at mile 21 onward, the crux of the race—a 2000’ climb over the race’s namesake peak, Mount Taylor at 11,300 feet above sea level. After that, there’s still a 1500’ descent along the rim and into the caldera, a 900’ climb out of the caldera, and a 1200’ descent to the finish. Everybody warned me to save something for the climb up and over Mount Taylor.

     I started perhaps quicker than might be advised for the first third. I linked up with a few folks: Will, who I’d met the night before, and Mike, a badass masters runner who I’d met at one of our Socorro races. We charged up the mountain right as the sun was rising in the distance. After four miles, we began descending. Along a rocky stretch of road, a young woman from New Zealand named Johanna went flying past me—leave it to the kiwis to be fearless and sure-footed. It turned out we had run together for a bit at the Jemez Mountain 50 miler back in May. I passed Johanna back a few miles later and didn’t see her again during the race, but I was certainly looking over my shoulder in the final few miles of technical downhill at the end of the race.

     I entered the mile 10 aid station and quickly filled my bottle and added Gu Roctane drink mix. Thus far, I’d kept 200 calories in my water bottle and eaten a gel every 30 minutes. It was working. In the next six miles we covered steep rolling hills on the continental divide trail before reaching the start/finish area and beginning the second half of the race’s figure eight course. At mile 16, I passed a woman holding a clipboard and a radio who said, “Nice job, you’re in 15^th”. Woah, I felt like I was running well, but didn’t realize I was running that well. I’m not sure if this information helped or hurt me, but either way, at this point I was diligently taking in food and water to avoid a blow-up—If I could sustain this, I’d be stoked. At the mile 16 aid station I dropped trash, refilled my bottle, and pounded an applesauce pouch that was in my drop bag. For what it’s worth, that applesauce was the easiest 70 calories I’ve every ingested. Applesauce may have to make a reappearance at these things.

     At mile 19 we hit a beautiful gravel road. My legs were tiring, but energy was holding strong. I felt like I was flying on that road—as if I was in the midst of a tempo run. When I glanced at my watch, I was only running 8 minute miles. I guess three-hours of mountain running will take a little out of your legs… I got to the mile 21 aid station, refilled my bottle, and settled into the climb up and over Mount Taylor. While everybody had spoken of this stretch as something to fear, I was kind of excited about it. A long sustained climb meant in many places it would be more efficient to hike rather than run, and that meant mixing up the muscle groups. Plus, I was excited to summit Mount Taylor, an 11,300 foot dormant stratovolcano with cultural significance to the Navajo people. It was the sort of terrain that’s rarely accessible in a race and usually behind the restrictions of wilderness designation. 

     Heading up Mount Taylor I mixed up hiking and running. In the past, I was a pretty weak climber and much better downhiller. I’m not sure when this happened, but at some point in the last few years my strengths flipped. Nearing the peak, I began to see runners coming back to me. I did my very best to keep my attention ahead of me and not look back, but at the top of the mountain, I couldn’t resist glancing back knowing that I could see whoever was within 10-minutes. I saw nobody—I was moving forward, and not backward. Things were going well.

     I passed a runner on the descent off of the peak and into the aid station at mile 25. Just before I left this aid station, another runner with poles bounded out just in front of me. I drank two dixie cups of Coca-Cola and set out after him. I knew the next four miles would entail a descent into the caldera, and a climb back out to the same aid station I’d just left. After almost three miles of continuous downhill, I thought to myself, “Jeez. Either this race is longer than 31 miles, or the climb out is about to be steep.” As soon as we began climbing, I saw a sign that said there was one mile to the aid station. Ahh. So I guess it’s the second possibility. I passed pole-man right before beginning the climb and was confident I could gain time as my up-hill power hiking was strong. I was continuing my diet of 200 calories in my bottle and a gel every 30 minutes. The gels were beginning to cause some palate fatigue, but I told myself that if I puked on the climb up to Mount Taylor or out of this caldera, that would be alright. While I’m not the best at technical descents, my legs are pretty solid, and I was confident that I could tackle the final descent steadily even if I was puking and out-of gas. Luckily, no pukes necessary.

     

     At the mile 28.5 aid station, I knew there was two miles left. Eager to stay ahead of pole-man, I drank another two dixie cups of coke and pushed on without filling my bottle. At mile 29 we seemingly dropped off a cliff and down what felt like a ski hill. This terrain did not suit me, and it occurred to me in this moment that pole-man had the advantage. Sure enough, he blasted past me at mile 29.5. I continued to run steadily downhill, watching my feet, and finally caught a glimpse of the finish. I sprinted to the end, finishing somewhere between 13^th and 17^th place (results pending) in 5:49:45.

     While not my best 50k time, I’m stoked with how this went. This race had 6600’ of climbing and descending, and being in the teens of one of New Mexico’s most competitive races is a solid result. I also felt like I held myself together better at this race than I have at any other. There were no blow-ups and come-aparts, and in most places I felt like I was running really well. Perhaps the part I’m most happy about is the fact that I moved up in the second half, rather than falling back. It was truly one of my best-managed races in a long time. 

     I’m in total awe of the leaders, who finished in 4:15ish. I doubt I could’ve kept up with them for three miles—extremely impressive. I’m also impressed with my buddy Michael, who finished fifth in 4:59. He told me after the race that he’s not sure how he could improve his time on that course. I sort-of feel the same. I know it’s possible, but my 5:49 felt like an extremely well-executed performance! Anyway, those guys are legendary. 

     

     I think the biggest contributor to my solid run was nutrition. I’m very confident I managed 300-400 calories/hour for all but the first hour (when breakfast was still settling). It was almost nothing but pure sugar in the form of gels and drink mix, but it worked. I ate probably 9 gels over the course of the event (I skipped a couple timed-gels to make room for the coke and applesauce I ate at aid stations). I also had a mixture of strawberry hibiscus Gu Roctane equal to 200 calories/18 ounces in my bottle at all times. This rigid nutrition plan also allowed me to be super quick at all the aid stations. I doubt I spent more than around 6 minutes at aid stations in total. I did pee like 6 times, which probably cost me 2.5 minutes… Unless I can figure out how to pee while running, I’m not sure I’ll be able to cut back on that time.

    Overall, I’m happy with the results. There’s still a lot of room for improvement, but I’m starting to get race-management down pretty well. Now on to Deadman Peaks!