orcas-stral maneuvers in the dark

heading up the switchbacks to
the mt. constitution aid station,
randomly looked up to see this.

scenes from sweeping at the inaugural rainshadow running #Orcas100 trail race.
***********
i keep trying to catalogue the images in my head.

so far they refuse to cooperate.

but some things have started to emerge from the fog...
***********
1:20 a.m.: camp moran aid station. returning loop 2 sweeper says "the weather's not bad out there."

1:30 a.m.: loop 3 sweepers head out, are immediately deluged with wind-driven sideways rain. me: (shouting) "no, this isn't bad at all!" kay downes allen: "what?" "i said, 'this isn't bad!" "what??" "nothing!"

1:55 a.m.: visibility: three feet in front of headlamp. "is it me, or is it getting foggy?" "it's getting foggy."

2:05 a.m. "we could literally be passing bodies strewn on the side of the road and we wouldn't know it."

2:10 a.m. "hey, a confidence streamer!" "do you feel confident?"

2:15 a.m. trail marker points away from road, into woods. (ominously) "here we go..."

sometime later: "this is a great trail. i bet it's really pretty when you can see it."

later still: "did we miss a turn?"

"a confidence streamer would really be welcome right now."
"i'm seeing lots of footprints."
"you are??"

"keep an eye out for bigfoot. this is about the time they come out."

"i thought i saw a light up ahead."
"it could be bigfoot."

overtaking our first runner: "hello!" "hello." "how are you doing?" "about as well as could be expected."

volunteers at mountain lake aid station: "can we get you something? we have sushi and soup and pierogis and apple pie..." "do you have anything with caffeine in it?"

overtaking next runner: "hello!" "hello." "how are you doing?" "you just about caught me falling asleep on my feet."

later: "do you see a trail?" "yes, over here." "good, i was about to lead us into a swamp."

later still: "geez, i almost led us right into that tree." "maybe i should lead for a while."

checking in at the team 7 hills
mt. constitution aid station.
(photo courtesy of justin richards.)

approaching section of trail disguised as a small pond: "i'm not sure there's any way around this." "well, #%&*. #@$^, #*%&. we are totally #$%@&."

overtaking next runner: "hello!" "hello." "how are you doing?" "i'm getting ready to climb powerline. it's all i can think about."

climbing powerline: (loudly) "hoo. hoo hoo. hoo." "either that's an owl, or the guy we passed back there is having a lot of fun with this climb." "it's an owl."

next runner: "hello!" "hello." "how are you doing?" "i've been better. i can't keep any food down."

in front of a space heater at mt. constitution aid station, wet clothes steaming. ian burton: "dude, you are smokin'." "oh, yeah. i get that all the time."

post-sweep exhilaration 
at #Orcas100.
(photo courtesy of daisy clark.)

it was all downhill from there.
***********
sweeping a loop of the orcas 100-mile course ~ in the middle of the night, in the midst of wind/rain/fog/snow ~ was outrageously...fun. kind of addictive, in fact.

many thanks to kay, who came up with the idea in the first place. definitely not something i would've dreamed up on my own.

and, the fact is, we needed the miles.
***********
34 days to #gw100k

don't know why there's no sun up in the sky

"duck n cover, dude."

apparently i need a much bigger running pack.

so i have room for all the layers i shed mid-run.

that, or i really have to get a handle on how to dress myself for cold rain.

yesterday's run through discovery park ended with me soaked. again.

not because i didn't have on a great waterproof layer ~ i did. and not because i didn't have other layers i could take off if/when i got too warm.

i got too warm, all right. but by then the inside and outside of my jacket were dripping wet. may as well have gone out without it.

except i hate starting a cold, wet run by being cold and wet.

it says here we're not on the verge of warm and sunny.

fuh.

related: working the orcas 100 aid station this weekend will be interesting. sweeping an overnight 25-mile loop will be an adventure.

multiple ultra finisher jordan maki-richards is excited about the forecast, too:

"Okay veterans and adventurers - any advice on gearing/strategies for the persistent rain and cold at Orcas this weekend? I've struggled with keeping warm in similar conditions past 4-5 hours, so 25-30 is REALLY intimidating."

wet-&-cold loves company.
***********
update, this: 

weekending

sunday's view of the local volcano.

i don't know why i'm so tired this monday morning.

oh, wait. yes, i do.

saturday a.m. 12.5 miles seven hills group run

saturday p.m. clean kitchen, deep-clean disgusting shower (get fingers scalded by bleach ~ idiot), pick up accumulated dog poop in front yard, haul 10 bags of mulch and peagravel down treacherous slope to back yard, fill 6 yard waste bags with cut-back shrubs and blackberry brambles, haul bags back up treacherous slope, order pizza, drink a beer, fall into sleep-coma.

sunday a.m. 11.2 miles up and down chirico trail, 5,280 feet of vertical.

3rd on beam, 5th on floor. a good day.

sunday p.m. shower, wolf down late lunch, do laundry, drive loving daughter to gymnastics meet in tacoma, endure interminably slow meet and awards presentation, drive home in surprisingly heavy traffic, arrive magnolia at 11:15 p.m., get ready for bed, bandage fingers, sleep like a stone for 5.5 hours.

monday a.m. fail to kill alarm, feed and walk dogs in windy cold darkness, shower, commute 26 miles to office. zombie-walk through morning, struggle to recount reasons for current torpor.
***********
it was worth it.

t-minus 53 days to #gw100k

snorca

"they have weird rain here."

where'd you go baby buffalo?
what's become of old cotton eyed joe?
holed-up, lying low
long gone come a summertime snow

~ james taylor
***********
this may have been my favorite day of trail running ever.

rain was forecast at the 2016 orcas island 25k, along with chilly temperatures.

instead, there was snow.

important meteorological note: running in snow beats running in cold rain 10 times out of ten. and twice on saturdays.

race notes: there's some climbing on this course. about 4,450 feet of it, according to the rainshadow running web site. i have no quarrel with this estimate.

you start out climbing, then give back everything you just gained. you reallyreally climb up the powerline trail, then give a bunch of that back. getting to the aid station at the top of mt. constitution? more climbing. all of which you give back over the last 5-ish miles.

the first time i ran this race, my quads hated me for the next three days. this time? no pain at all. throughout the race, i felt strong and relaxed and oops, i fell down. 

see the nice, gentle downhill that starts at about mile 8? man, that is some fantastic running. the trail is buttery soft, snow was wafting through the canopy, everything was still and quiet...except for the sound of me falling. ooof. i landed on my right side and rolled onto my back.

"are you okay?!" asked the nice woman running in front of me. "yup, i'm good," i said, popping back up again. because falling while trail running happens.

two minutes later: boom. down onto hands and knees.

"are you okay?!?" asked the same nice woman in front of me, perhaps concerned i was having some sort of cerebrovascular event. "yup, i'm good," i said again. "thank you for asking." because falling twice while running on a completely benign trail is a little embarrassing.
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earlier i said something about this being my favorite trail day ever. that was my exact thought, in fact, while running the fall-down trail.

in retrospect, i think it's because i was in the zone the entire way. i was working hard on the no-kidding-around ascents, but the effort was effortless. there were a couple idiopathic falls, but they were of no concern or consequence. there was snow, which was beautiful, instead of rain, which is wet. my hands and feet got icy-cold at the top of mt. constitution, but they warmed right back up again within a mile.

at the bottom of the last descent, i started to feel the same leg cramp i got while running this section two years ago. then, it hit hard and took awhile to work out. this day it never really took hold, and i ran right past it. or through it. or something.

in no time at all i was finish-line high-fiving race director james varner, two minutes faster than two years ago.

soon, friends were crossing the finish line as well, getting their own high-fives. dry clothes were donned, food and beer consumed. photos, smiles, more finishes, more food. and beer.

finally, an exceptionally cool thrift shop shirt (with the 2016 orcas 25k logo on the back) was triumphantly pulled from a big box of shirts that went unnoted and unmarauded before the race. huge score.

standing here today, i can't think of a thing i'd change.

yup. best trail day...yet.
***********
thank you, rainshadow cast and crew (especially those of you enduring the bone-chilling conditions at the top). none of it was possible without you. just kidding about the soup, colton gerhart.
***********
2016 orcas island 25k

3:13:19
55/254 (overall)
4/24 (m 50-59)

shoes: altra lone peak 2.5
song stuck in my head the entire run: "baby buffalo," by james taylor