South Bay Cowboys

So the Coyote Cohort’s Backbone Ultra.  I’ve been eyeing this run since it was first announced mid-last year, soon after the entire Backbone Trail officially became a continuous CA State owned trail.  It began with a “That would be epic to run the whole Backbone Trail.  I won’t be ready in 2017, but I wonder if I’ll be ready in 2018.”  Then it was a “I’ve been training a lot.  Lets see how I feel after Ray Miller 50.”  To a “After Sean O’Brien 100k, if I feel good, I’ll sign up for Backbone and treat it as a fun run.”  To “I can’t miss this opportunity, I may not really be recovered from my 100k, but let’s do it!”  Then I signed up for the race on the evening of the deadline.  Also, it helped that I had met one of the race directors, Howard, while running Ray Miller 50M.  I felt like it was a sign to take the opportunity and signup.

Preparation

Backbone Ultra was five weeks to the day from Sean O’Brien 100k.  I recovered for one week, then immediately jumped back up in mileage to a 71 mile week.  My first training week was going to be my peak week, and then taper back down the mileage again until race day.  Now this strategy resulted in improper recovery from the 100k, and some leg issues.  In the third week of training, I had another lower mileage week, to try and recover from my sudden high mileage.  I wasn’t doing any of this right.  In the final two weeks leading up to the race, I tried to just do consistent, easy miles, with nothing too long.  Most of my leg tweaks were smoothed out, and I made it to the race not feeling great, but also not feeling injured.

Race

With short of three hours of sleep, I was up with my alarm at 2:00AM.  I got ready, and was out the door at 2:40AM, and then arrived at check at Ray Miller about 3:40AM.  The full moon was out.  The event was planned to coincide with the full moon.  I check in, get my bag and bib, and go back to my car to kill time.  I had to wait for the buses to take us all to the starting line.  At about 4:45AM, I made it onto a bus which soon departed for Will Rogers for the start of the race.  

The bus ride was mostly quiet with runners trying to squeeze in another hour of rest before arriving.  My nerves kept me up.  We arrived at a parking lot full of people.  We soon made our way to a grassy area for announcements from Howard.  The spinner hats were passed out for the Ultrasignup projected leaders and laggers of each distance.  Notable runner Jeff Browning has the lead hat for the 68 mile course.  The air was full of excitement, as anxious runners shivered in the cold morning air, waiting for the start.  We’re delayed almost half an hour, but finally began about 6:29AM for the initial trek of the Will Rogers Trails.  Within 15 minutes I went from shivering to overheating with the sun high enough now to directly hit me.  I took a quick stop to take the jacket off and note this was a bad sign for the rest of the day.  It was only going to get hotter.  

In the beginning, there various clumps of runners, many over ambitious with their paces.  I climbed comfortably, enjoying the morning and soon making it to Hub Junction.  Soon after I passed my familiar Eagle Rock, turn down Musch Trail, which I’ve run countless times, and made it to the first aid station at Trippet Ranch.  Here, early in the race, I felt comfortable.  I saw two friends working the station who fill up my handheld and ask what else I need.  I over confidently said I was fine, and don’t need more than the handheld.  I was off, and soon dealing with an increasingly hot day.  Two miles out, I realized I’ll have to fill more than just my handheld for the aid station gaps.  

Trying to take it easy, I finished off the miles to the next aid station at Stunt Rd, where I filled up my chest strap bottles along with the handheld.  I’m in and out quickly, making my way to Piuma Rd.  Only about one quarter of the way through the run, and I was already slowing and feeling dehydrated.  The sun was just getting hotter.  I pushed on, but began to lose some confidence.  Finally finishing off the section, I make it to Piuma aid station a bit dizzy.  I begin hitting the SaltCaps and chugging extra water at the station.  The next part was the brutal, exposed climb up to Corral Canyon, a section also in Sean O’Brien.  

I’ve already accepted this next ascent is a hike, and jump right into it.  I’m one third of the way in, and I began feeling things I hadn’t felt in an ultra before.  How I felt at that moment, and the thought of how much I had left to do, began to seriously shake my confidence.  I was feeling increasingly dizzy, and more than just sore.  There was nothing I could do but persist, one foot after the other, to get to the next aid station.  I wasn’t injured, but I was depleted.  Finally making it to the next aid station, I took my time to drink and even sit for a few minutes.  I filled my bottles, took more SaltCaps, ate some potatoes and sat in the shade.  Others around me seemed to be doing just as bad.  My body slowly calmed down, as I began to take back some control.  This day was going to be a battle.  I managed to stand and leave the station, looking forward to the thought of the cold water stream crossings in the next section.

I soon hit a series of six to seven stream crossings that I soaked my hat in to help cool myself down.  Every crossing was a new dunk of cool water, rejuvenating my spirits a bit.  I pushed on at my slowed pace.  Close to Latigo there was another runner that caught up behind me, but kept his distance.  He followed for a while, and eventually announced to me that he’s a spectator, not a runner.  We got into conversation about running and the area, and the distraction helps.  He’s adjusting to my pace, but he’s not pacing me.  Approaching Kanan Road, he allowed some distance between us so no one could claim he was pacing me.  Coming down to Kanan, I was surprised to see the same two friends from Trippet down at the station spectating.  They snapped some pictures of me and cheered me on.  My spirits are shaky, but I’m slowly turning the tide of this battle.  I ate up, salted up, filled up, and for the first time in 26 miles, my confidence snapped back and I knew I was going to finish.  Just like that, the day turned.  

The next section I alternated between running and hiking.  Inclines, I hiked.  Everything else, I was running.  Easy.  I grouped up with two other runners for a while, until they spread out ahead of me soon after Zuma Canyon Fireroad.  I finally got more consistent downhills in the following section.  Up to that point the entire run had felt like an uphill grind.  My legs were already beat, so my downhill running was slowed, but I enjoyed the change in grade.  I wove around the trails that were new to me and finally make it to Encinal Canyon aid station at mile 43.4.  I feel ok, but still pretty depleted.  

“Want any hot food?” I heard.  Nothing sounds appealing, but I figured I should eat, and I accepted a burrito.  Oh my God, that tasted good.  I devoured it and feel so much better.  I filled up, and took another burrito for the road. Back to the uphills, but with a quickly descending sun.  

As the sun set, my climbing legs woke up and my pace quickened.  I overtook a small group that had passed me earlier on.  I enjoyed the thinning light on the horizon and moon rising up behind me.  I finally switched on my headlamp and found some downhills along the fireroad I was on.  I was now cherishing my building confidence.  A few miles out of from Mishe Mokwa, a lady managed to overtake me, muttering to herself about being delusional.  She was holding a good pace, but clearly mentally losing it a bit.  I still feel mentally sound at 12 hours in.  

With the sun long gone, I soon heard the sounds of a busy aid station up ahead.  “DING DING” I heard a bell and the yell “runner” somewhere up ahead.  I turned a corner and see the lights of the next aid station.  This one was busy.  “GAVIN!”  Darryl and Jac are here again cheering on the runners.  They helped me fill up my bottles and offered more encouraging words saying I’m keeping a good pace.  I didn’t feel like I was, but relative to the day and other runners, I actually was doing ok.

“Do you want food?”  An aid station volunteer offered to take my order.  I excitedly ordered a burrito with everything.  I found a chair, and took a few moments to enjoy where I was.  There were a lot of runners taking a breather here, chatting, and resting.  I gobbled up my burrito and asked for another.  I’m not a big fan of taking too long at an aid station, so I took the next burrito, said my goodbyes to Darrel and Jac, and got back up the trail for the ascent toward Sandstone Peak.  

My connection to prior races had motivated me throughout the day.  I ran this next portion of the trail at mile 34 of Ray Miller 50M.  I felt like I’d come such a long way in such a short time.  And now, I was running the full Backbone Trail.   I found myself alone on the trail, making progress in the dark.  I saw city lights in the distance toward Ventura County.  I felt completely alone, but completely free.  I was covering trails in the middle of the night, and I felt safe and free.  I saw a sign for Boney Mountain Trail with 5.5 miles to Danielson Ranch, the next aid station.

Then it was time for descent down steep technical trail with my headlamp.  What followed was my least favorite part of the run.  Stubbing my toe on rocks. Kicking rocks only to have them roll and hit my feet or trip me up.  I was too tired to efficiently handle this downhill, so it was slow progress of kicking rocks as I tried to make my way down to Danielson.  Finally, close to Danielson, I managed to lose the trail.  I wandered around a bit and eventually checked my phone using the app Gai GPS to get myself back on track.  I finally found the trail and finish the last ¾ mile and make it to Danielson.

More hot food!  I was immediately offered soup, which I devoured, then I grazed on the buffet of food that included freshly cooked bacon.  Wow, so good.  There was also an open fireplace, burning hot.  I wanted to stay and eat and drink and enjoy the fire, but I was so close to the finish.  After a short chat with another face I recognized, who was volunteering, I took off for the final seven miles.  The first section out of the aid station was flat fire road, so I fell into an easy jog, soon overtaking another runner.  I finally made it to the next single track ascent, which I mostly hiked.  On the way up my watch finally died, so I started up Strava on my phone to track the finish.  I made it up to the fireroad and slowly continued the run.  I didn’t feel THAT bad, but I must have looked pretty bad, hunched over in a very slow run.  I clicked off another mile and saw a light approaching me.  It was a medic volunteer checking on the status of runners coming in.  He asked how I feel and how my feet were holding up.  I told him about earlier dizziness from the heat, but how I felt pretty good now and my feet were perfectly fine, other than bruised a bit from running on rocks.  He congratulated me and left to go find the next runner.  

I finally hit Ray Miller trailhead, the final descent down to the finish.  This section was my very first trail run, XTERRA Pt. Mugu in 2015.  It’s all connected.  My first trail run.  My first 50.  And now a successful Backbone Trail run.   It was after midnight after running almost 68 miles, and I felt awake and alive, though slow.  I trudged on for the descent.  The closer I got to the finish, the faster I got, albeit still slow.  Hitting the final switchbacks, I saw a very quiet finish line down below.  I cross, and it is done.  At 1:05 AM (2:05AM after daylight saving time change) I finished at over 18 and a half hours.  I got my medal, a free pair of socks, a finish line burrito, and left to find my car.  

It was a quiet ending to an epic day.