Quad Dipsea - 2005

On Saturday I ran my 3rd Quad Dipsea, a race which begins at Old Mill Park in Mill Valley and is run on the Dipsea trail, home of the Dipsea race, which is supposedly the nation's second oldest foot race (I've never heard what the oldest is). The Quad Dipsea isn't nearly as old, but is now in its 23rd year and still going very strong with roughly 250 runners this year. Quad Dipsea is short for Quadruple Dispsea, which gets its name from the fact that the race has you crossing the 7.1 mile Dipsea trail four times. The trail ends at Stinson Beach where they have you turn around and go back to where you came from, twice.

So that's a short history of the race, but this blog is mainly about my history with the race. Yes indeed, this blog is meant to be all about me and my adventures. :-) My day started with a 5 AM wake up, which ended up being closer to 5:20 AM with a couple of presses on the snooze button. I hit the shower, grabbed my gear and headed north on 280. By far the best part of the ride was driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, which never seems to get old to me, but this time seemed uniquely spectactular as I took in a view made more clear by a rain the night before. The skyline had been turned black by a sleeping city and rose up against a faint pink light acting as a messenger of the sunrise. I've seen the city from the same vantage point, lit up by city lights during the night and illuminated by sunlight during the day, but I had never seen it as it was as I made my way to the race. It was a such a treat.

I pulled out the directions to the start after I crossed the bridge and continued on 101. I took the E. Blithedale exit and drove to Throckmartin Ave, which cuts through the down town of Mill Valley. I always make a mental note to return to this down town some day, since I'm never in condition to explore it after the race (One of these days, I will). I arrived at Old Mill Park finding open parking spots that had to be less than 100 feet from the start. This was definitely a first for me as I usually find myself scrambling for a spot. It only took around 10 minutes more to see all of the surround parking spots filled on both sides of the street. I had arrived at nearly exactly the right time.

I walked to the registration table and checked in with my number of "234" (pretty cool number), punching my ticket to run. I then headed to men's room, where there was a nice long line waiting for the lone stall. This contrasted the ladie's rest room, which had no line, which is probably a first in the history of human kind.

As the crowd started to gather at the beggining point of the race, I noticed some familar faces in the crowd in the form of Rob Byrne, Helmut Roesner and Myles Welze. I would see Kitty Moore later on in the race, crossing paths with her on my first trip back. I greeted a few of those folks with handshakes and good mornings and not too soon after, a funny siren-sounding noise went off that supposedly served as the starting gun.

The start of the race was slow, as usual, with hundereds of people making their way up hundereds of steps. On the way up, this dude in his late 50's was cheering us on from his house, which was just to the left of the stairs. He had long hair and was playing air guitar and singing along to "Gimme 3 Steps" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, which was blasting from his home. Perfect song selection. Going back to the pace, I couldn't really complain because I knew what layed ahead of me. 'Tis better to save the energy for later. At the same time, it's still hard for me to figure out when to run and when to walk during the start of this race. There is just so much uphill until you cross the road and hit the trail. I did end up running some of the road before then, just to see if my legs still worked. They did.

After about an hour of some ups and downs, of which there are plenty of on the course, I arrived at cardiac point, which is at about the 4.4 mile mark and a nice milestone to reach no matter what direction you're coming from because of the climbing it takes to get there and the generous downhill you have waiting for you after crossing it. It has an aid station where I tend to graze a little bit. This year, to my delight, they had water melon, which I think is a perfect ultra food, especially after you've been eating GU and downing GU2O. It's nice to bite into something that has a more subtle taste and is much more refreshing. Though it's not quite in season, the melon worked wonders for me. I took a piece each time I passed an aid station.

After refueling and refreshing I took the plunge down the remaining 2.7 miles to Stinson Beach, which does understate things a bit. There is a fair amount of climbing that needs to be done after you lose a chunk of elevation, but it's not as bad as what it takes to get to Cardiac point. Coming into Stinson Beach, I saw Rob and Myles coming back and cheered them on as they passed by. I came into the turn around at around 1:28:30, which was a tad slower than I had expected, given that I felt as if I had pushed myself pretty hard. Nonetheless, I hung out at the aid station for a brief moment and started on Dipsea leg 2. I think this may be the toughest leg to do, psychologically, because you know you have to come back to the Stinson Beach turn around after a lot of running and climbing.

The sky was clear and sunny, but not too warm given the coolness of the air and a slight breeze. The views of the ocean and San Francisco were wonderful, still reaping the benefits of the cleansing rain. Despite how competitive you might feel on these races, I feel its best to slow down at some points and just enjoy where you are. Here I am running along the Dipsea trail with a light wind in my face and sun spreading out all around me, bringing to light the beauty of the natural and human-made marvels of the area. I took a few deep breaths as I ran along the single-track trail, trying to somehow consume everything around me thinking that it could give me more life.

I finished leg number two in around 1:29, giving me a first half pace of 2:57 and change. I remember the first time I had done the Quad Dipsea back in 2001, I had a first half time of 2:50 and ended up finishing at 6:19. As I came into the turn around, I wondered if had learned something about running this race, enough where I could possibly get under the 6 hour mark. Time and more running would tell.

As I embarked on the second half of the course, my goal was to hit Cardiac Point at about an hour, just as I had done on leg number one. After some hard running and hard climbing, I accomplished that, hitting the one hour mark right on the head.

One thing I'm forgetting about as I'm writing this, is the interesting race that was going on by the front runners. The one nice thing about running a race where you're doing multiple outs and backs is you get to track who's ahead. This race had 4 top dogs. The first guy I came across was this bearded gentleman who I was surprised to see walking up the stairs on the way back on leg number 2. Following in hot pursuit was this guy wearing a red and white singlet with "Denmark" printed on it. He was moving very quickly up the stairs, probably at a level 12 on the stair master (not that I use stair master enough to know the levels, but you get the idea). As I passed them I wondered what strategy would win out, the power walk or the stair master. Time and more running would tell. Following them not too far behind was a Japanese kid whom I had seen at the Skyline Open Space Preserve and is the only person to break 4 hours in a PCTR 50K. He also came close to 4 hours at Marin Headlands and finished top 10 in the SF Marathon, so definitely one of the elite runners in the area and someone I've been keeping an eye out for. Rounding out the foursome was a taller, grey-haired guy who seemed to be the most focused of the four. I found that the bearded runner and the Japanese runner were pretty friendly, returning acknowledgement and even encouragement to me as I gave some to them. The Danish runner would look at me, but not respond. This last guy didn't know I was there. We all have different styles.

I came into the final turn around at around 1:28:30 again, which I was pretty happy with. To this point I had run a very robust race and had shown no signs of slowing down. I was happy to see people who were in front me crossing at closer and closer points to the turn arounds and I was stretching the gap between myself and those who were chasing me. That's another nice thing about a race with multiple outs and backs. You do get to see your competition a little more up close, which can be a nice motivational tool.

I set out on my final leg, which is a comforting feeling knowing that you're not going to see these parts of the course again. I needed roughly a 1:33 final lap and wanted to take a stab at it. I tried to push myself on a little more hill running because I knew my walking pace was declining significantly. I found myself saying "C'mon, just run to that next ribbon" to get the motivation to keep my legs churning. There were quite a few runners that I was able to pass and that gave me extra spark to move on. What was fascinating to me though, was seeing the runners that were still left on the trail completing their third leg. There were quite a few that I was sure would not make it back before 5 PM, which would leave them in darkness. Either they were going to cut off the run short or they were crazy enough to give it a try. I suppose the one benefit they would have is they would be able to take in the sunset and the skyline being lit up at nightfall. Still, I don't think I'd want to navigate the trail without some day light.

I hit Cardiac a point a little later than I wanted too (running time of 5:13), still feeling like I had a chance, but my legs were definitely gaining weight, or least that's how it felt. I rumbled down the hill, trying to stretch my legs as much as possible. One mistake I had made earlier was patting myself on the back for not falling during the first 24 miles of the race -- I talked about this with Rob at the end of the race, who concurred that its a big mistake to pat yourself on the back because you'll pay for it later. I laughed when he told me that his biggest fear was losing his teeth and that he had a plan to put them in his water bottle if he ever ran into that situation -- Anyway, I payed dearly, tripping up down a steep descent and barrel rolling into a lovely thorn or thistle patch, whatever those nasty things were. I scrambled to get back up and collect my water bottle which had gotten away from me. I continued to run down the hill, trying to be as careful as possible while I picked thistles out my hands, arms and even my back.

Despite the tumble, I was able recover pretty well and move at a decent pace to the parking lot that marked the beginning of the final climb of the race. My calf muscles popped out on me, cramping as I tried to muscle my way up the first hill from the parking lot. I was in what I call "Frankenstein mode" as I tried to walk with very little knee bend to keep my calves out of the equation. It actually works pretty well.

Each stair seemed to get harder and harder to ascend as my legs lost power and my lower back and hips started to complain. Damned body. What kept me motivated, along with just wanting to be done, was being able to pass a couple of runners on the way up. One of them was stretching against a tree and I noticed his calf muscle was bulging out. "Cramp" he said, as I asked him if he was ok. God do I know what he was feeling.

Before hitting the street crossing at the top, there was a little bit of trail running left to do with some gentle down hill. I took that opportunity to take a second spill when my right foot caught on a rock and I went flying. I let out a groan so loud that it seemed to be coming from somewhere else as I hit the ground with my shoulder and rolled onto my back. I grabbed onto some branches as my legs spun and dangled out above a deep drop to the right of the elevated trail. I chuckle at this now because my only thoughts at the time were of getting up and running when I could have been in some dire straits.

After I collected myself and moved onward, I noticed that a stone, about half the size of dime, had wedged itself into the palm of my hand. I plucked it out immediately and tossed some water on the cut, which continued to bleed for a while. It was by no means a big cut, but the problem was dealing with the fact that I can tend to get a little queasy at the sight of blood, especially my own. It doesn't happen very often, but once in a while an incident like this will creep into my psyche and causes some problems. Normally it's just a matter of lying down and getting the blood back to my head, but I didn't want to take that option. I was facing a serious problem as I approached my final descent down 200+ steps that I overlooked with wobbly legs and a dizzy head. I spent the rest of the race balancing caution with speed, favoring the former. I rose my left hand, the one with the cut, above my head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. It must have looked a little ridiculous, like someone trying get called upon in a class, but it worked.

As my foot dropped down the last step and I ran towards the narrow bridge preceding the finish line, I heard some racing footsteps behind me. "Fuck you", I muttered to myself. Excuse my diction and attitude, but no way was I going to get passed in the last 50 feet after taking a beating over the course of 28.4 miles with nearly 9300 feet of elevation gain. So I turned on the jets and guess what, they were working just fine. "Oooh, these guys are hard core" I heard someone say as I blew past the finish line. I didn't even turn around to see who this guy or gal chasing me was, but I didn't care at that point. I was done.

My time was roughly 6:02:30. My three goals for the race were to finish, P.R. and break 6. I knew I could do the first 2 without much problem having done my previous best time during a day filled with rain, high winds and hail to go along with slippery trails. The third was a stretch goal and I was pretty happy to come close. My 4th and final leg was done in roughly 1:35 and change, which is not a huge drop off in speed. I don't think I would have run the race any differently than I did because I ran it about as evenly I as I could have.

Oh yeah, the front runners...I'm not exactly writing this entry in chronological order, but here's what happened...On my second crossing of these guys, the bearded runner had been passed by Danish one, who had built a pretty comfortable lead. The focused runnner had passed the Japanese kid and was holding the third position. Both still looked pretty good. On my third and final crossing, the bearded runner had taken the lead again and still looked pretty fresh, but the focused runner was hot on his heels, now in second place and probably about 2 minutes behind with a few miles left to go. The Danish runner had fallen off significantly and looked pretty tired. The Japanese runner had fallen off even more so and I belive was not 4th anymore, but perhaps 5th or 6th. At this point I do not know how this race ended, so I'll need to wait for the results, as will you. :-) If it helps, I believe the focused runner's name was Roy Rivers because I heard some runners behind me yelling "Go Roy! He's only 2 minutes ahead of you.". I looked up some past results and found this name among the top Quad Dipsea finishers in the last 3-4 years. I guess we'll wait until results come out with bated breath. Supposedly the top runner finished at a time 4:14, which is about the norm for the top dog in the Quad Dipsea when the field doesn't contain the incompareable Karl Anderson, the only one I've known to break 4 hours.

And that was the 2005 Quad Dipsea, my 3rd one now complete...I heard a few people being signaled out as finishing their 10th as they came across the line. Some day, I would like to get there. I mean, I've done 3...what's 10? :-)

UPDATE - Roy Rivers ended up taking the final lead, finishing in 4:14 and change.