Sometimes it's not the races that are completed but the hard times of a good fight that make the best and longest memories. Sounds like this was one of them. Pain often creates a tattoo on the soul. You got yourself a nice one for this HURT. Aloha Brah!
Tuesday, February 2
Nice Comment
I received this great comment on the HURT team blog (not the race website) from my friend Mike in Hawaii.
Saturday, January 30
HURT Course Photos
Gary Robbins of Vancouver, BC was the winner of the HURT 100, setting a new course record of 20:12. He took pictures of the course in the days prior to the race, and I thought you'd like of peek at what the trails look like:
http://picasaweb.google.com/robbins.runner/HURTCourse#
http://picasaweb.google.com/robbins.runner/HURTCourse#
Wednesday, January 27
HURT Race Report
After a week of physical and mental recovery, I'm ready to put my experiences and thoughts from HURT into words.
The Short Story
I was doing well until I turned my ankle badly at mile 16. I managed to make it to mile 20, where the doc taped it. At mile 25, I turned it again. I continued to mile 32+, where the swelling and fear of twisting it again on a downhill convinced me to stop.
The Full Report
I felt more ready for HURT this time around than I did two years ago. However, having participated two years ago and attaining the 100K consolation prize, I knew what was about to come. Aside the usual nervousness, there was more than a little apprehension. The good news is that there had been little rain since early December. The rainforest trail was as dry as most had ever seen it. That includes my days of living in Hawaii in the 80s and 90s. It looked to be a fantastic run.
On Thursday, I arrived and waited in Honolulu to pick up my friend Ron Wilmoth, from L.A. Ron and I had been planning this second assault of the trails for a year, and lately had been emailing each other every day. We were sharing a vacation rental cottage in Kailua, much larger and cheaper than a hotel in Waikiki.
The prerace briefing on Friday was fun, as much for the unofficial activities as anything. I got to share time with old Hawaiian Ultra Running Team friends and new ones. I got to talk with other friends I met at my previous HURT attempt two years ago. I even got to chat with other runners that I had met elsewhere, including Rocky Raccoon, Voyageur 50M, and even FANS.
The HURT 100 is a race that has that certain draw. Once you try it, succeed or not, you keep coming back. That's one reason there are so many familiar faces. My friend Mike Smith from Indiana, for example, was doing his sixth HURT. The five previous tries had resulted in 100K finishes. This year, after completing ten 100 mile trail runs in 2009, he would finish his first HURT 100M.
The start at 6:00 AM on Saturday is always fantastic. Standing on the bridge leading out of the Hawaii Nature Center, we listened to the countdown by John Salmonson. Big John, one of the HURT co-RDs, is one of my oldest friends in Hawaii and was best man at my wedding. When John counts down to zero, we're off, lights in hand, to the sounds of trumpeting conch shells.
On Thursday, I arrived and waited in Honolulu to pick up my friend Ron Wilmoth, from L.A. Ron and I had been planning this second assault of the trails for a year, and lately had been emailing each other every day. We were sharing a vacation rental cottage in Kailua, much larger and cheaper than a hotel in Waikiki.
The prerace briefing on Friday was fun, as much for the unofficial activities as anything. I got to share time with old Hawaiian Ultra Running Team friends and new ones. I got to talk with other friends I met at my previous HURT attempt two years ago. I even got to chat with other runners that I had met elsewhere, including Rocky Raccoon, Voyageur 50M, and even FANS.
The HURT 100 is a race that has that certain draw. Once you try it, succeed or not, you keep coming back. That's one reason there are so many familiar faces. My friend Mike Smith from Indiana, for example, was doing his sixth HURT. The five previous tries had resulted in 100K finishes. This year, after completing ten 100 mile trail runs in 2009, he would finish his first HURT 100M.
The start at 6:00 AM on Saturday is always fantastic. Standing on the bridge leading out of the Hawaii Nature Center, we listened to the countdown by John Salmonson. Big John, one of the HURT co-RDs, is one of my oldest friends in Hawaii and was best man at my wedding. When John counts down to zero, we're off, lights in hand, to the sounds of trumpeting conch shells.
Start. I'm in the red shirt/white hat, right side of picture. Photo credit: Peter Daspit, Honolulu.
The first mile of the race is uphill. At first, it's a gradual climb, but that lasts less than 2/10 of a mile. After that, we were on the notorious "Hogsback". This is an extremely steep, rocky and rooty trail. And these aren't the kind of rocks and roots that you can stub your toe on. These are rocks and roots that force you to pick your path around, and when you can't, climb over like you're taking two stairs at a time. I heard one woman nearby ask her husband, both experienced ultra runners, "What have you gotten me into?" Even on fresh legs, by the time I got near the top I was questioning my ability to complete this thing.
Once at the top, however, you start down the Makiki Valley (Crossover) trail and start getting your normal attitude back. This section of trail is less than a mile, but has a normal (for HURT anyway) selection of rocks and roots. Except for the two spots of big boulders in the middle of the trail that you have to get by, that is. When you get to the bottom Makiki Trail, you head up a much rockier portion. This trail has some of those rocks and roots you pick your way around, along with boulders to climb up and over. After that, you work your way up switchbacks, through a section of trail that has a canopy of huge mangrove tree roots. I recognized I was near the top when I reached a section surrounded by ginger plants.
At this point, the long line of us heading up came to the only road section. This is a 1/10 of a mile section from one trail head to the next. It was starting to get light, and the line of people was able to spread out and we could see who we were with. I knew I was running well, as I found myself among a few pretty good ultrarunners. Was that good or bad?
The next mile down Kalawahine (aka Manoa Cliff Trail) is a fairly runnable downhill, followed by a half-mile of uphill switchbacks. It's after this section that you come to the top of the notorious Pauoa Flats Trail, who's name doesn't do it justice, as the trail is neither flat nor smooth. The first part is down a trail of rocks. Not rocks with spaces of trail between, but a trail of nothing but rocks. After that is the famous intertwined roots you've probably seen in pictures. Thanks to the dry weather, the roots were not slippery, nor did they have pools a water between them.
Once through this section, you travel Aihualama Trail. First, a section of bamboo forest, followed by 1.6 miles of downhill switchbacks leading to Manoa Falls. Just before reaching the falls is a boulder strewn section you have to climb down, where you can barely tell there's a trail.
Reaching the falls, which had little water this year, you turn right towards the Paradise Park aid station one mile away. This trail is sometimes flat and sometimes hilly, sometimes huge steps in eroded trail, sometimes runnable and sometimes not. In other words, one of the better sections of the course.
Once at the top, however, you start down the Makiki Valley (Crossover) trail and start getting your normal attitude back. This section of trail is less than a mile, but has a normal (for HURT anyway) selection of rocks and roots. Except for the two spots of big boulders in the middle of the trail that you have to get by, that is. When you get to the bottom Makiki Trail, you head up a much rockier portion. This trail has some of those rocks and roots you pick your way around, along with boulders to climb up and over. After that, you work your way up switchbacks, through a section of trail that has a canopy of huge mangrove tree roots. I recognized I was near the top when I reached a section surrounded by ginger plants.
At this point, the long line of us heading up came to the only road section. This is a 1/10 of a mile section from one trail head to the next. It was starting to get light, and the line of people was able to spread out and we could see who we were with. I knew I was running well, as I found myself among a few pretty good ultrarunners. Was that good or bad?
The next mile down Kalawahine (aka Manoa Cliff Trail) is a fairly runnable downhill, followed by a half-mile of uphill switchbacks. It's after this section that you come to the top of the notorious Pauoa Flats Trail, who's name doesn't do it justice, as the trail is neither flat nor smooth. The first part is down a trail of rocks. Not rocks with spaces of trail between, but a trail of nothing but rocks. After that is the famous intertwined roots you've probably seen in pictures. Thanks to the dry weather, the roots were not slippery, nor did they have pools a water between them.
Once through this section, you travel Aihualama Trail. First, a section of bamboo forest, followed by 1.6 miles of downhill switchbacks leading to Manoa Falls. Just before reaching the falls is a boulder strewn section you have to climb down, where you can barely tell there's a trail.
Reaching the falls, which had little water this year, you turn right towards the Paradise Park aid station one mile away. This trail is sometimes flat and sometimes hilly, sometimes huge steps in eroded trail, sometimes runnable and sometimes not. In other words, one of the better sections of the course.
Bamboo forest. Photo credit: Peter Daspit, Honolulu.
Ron and I had been together much of the way. It was on Manoa Cliff and Aihualama Trails that we would get separated, come back together, and get separated again. Generally, Ron is a better downhill runner, but I'm better at the ups. We'd continue to see each other throughout much of the way through the first two aid stations.
After the aid station, you retrace your steps back to Manoa Falls and back Aihualama Trail, this time 1.6 miles of all uphill switchbacks, and back over part of the Pauoa Flats roots, until you turn on to Nuuanu Trail. Here's the description of Nuuanu Trail from the race booklet.
The Nuuanu Trail is probably the most dangerous section of the course. The "grassy ridge" is so narrow you can see city lights a thousand feet below you on either side. The "steep grassy downhill" can, at points, require you to just aim for the next tree to stop your free fall descent on the trail. Luckily, it was completely dry this year, instead of muddy and even more scary. The "rope" is the only way to traverse some huge, narrow boulders part way down the steep switchbacks.
The Judd Trail is gently rolling, but loaded with roots. It brings you to the Jackass Ginger aid station... almost. To get to the aid station you first have to cross the river on slippery boulders. Luckily, a rope is strung across to help, and the dry month had left the river lower than usual. After the aid station, you reverse your course back across the river. Luckily, I didn't face two-way traffic over the river this time, which can increase the challenge to not get your feet too wet. Next, back along the Judd Trail and then back up the Nuuanu Trail, probably the hardest climb of the course. Finally, you reach and cross the monster roots at Pauoa Flats. (Again!) This time you retrace your path across the rocky upper portion of Pauoa Flats Trail.
After the aid station, you retrace your steps back to Manoa Falls and back Aihualama Trail, this time 1.6 miles of all uphill switchbacks, and back over part of the Pauoa Flats roots, until you turn on to Nuuanu Trail. Here's the description of Nuuanu Trail from the race booklet.
At the signpost go hard right on Nuuanu Trail (11 on map). You eventually will break out onto a grassy ridge and eventually come to a steep grassy downhill with crumbly (or muddy) dirt. Use extreme caution on this section. A rope may be placed at this section for runners to use on the way down / up. At the bottom of the grassy downhill there will be a hard right and you will be on the Nuuanu (cliffs) trail. This is a narrow crumbly trail with several slippery boulders near steep drop-offs. Use extreme caution. Continue on this trail until you reach the Judd Trail loop sign post. This section is 2.08 miles long.
The Nuuanu Trail is probably the most dangerous section of the course. The "grassy ridge" is so narrow you can see city lights a thousand feet below you on either side. The "steep grassy downhill" can, at points, require you to just aim for the next tree to stop your free fall descent on the trail. Luckily, it was completely dry this year, instead of muddy and even more scary. The "rope" is the only way to traverse some huge, narrow boulders part way down the steep switchbacks.
The Judd Trail is gently rolling, but loaded with roots. It brings you to the Jackass Ginger aid station... almost. To get to the aid station you first have to cross the river on slippery boulders. Luckily, a rope is strung across to help, and the dry month had left the river lower than usual. After the aid station, you reverse your course back across the river. Luckily, I didn't face two-way traffic over the river this time, which can increase the challenge to not get your feet too wet. Next, back along the Judd Trail and then back up the Nuuanu Trail, probably the hardest climb of the course. Finally, you reach and cross the monster roots at Pauoa Flats. (Again!) This time you retrace your path across the rocky upper portion of Pauoa Flats Trail.
Carl crossing the river at night. Photo credit: Peter Daspit, Honolulu.
At this point, I'm back to continuing on Manoa Cliff Trail from where I left it. At first, I'm on an uphill section, which soon crests and heads generally down. Back in the 80s, I used to storm this section, running like mad. It is still runnable, but over the years there have been more washouts, which result in narrow trail ledges.
It was while rounding a bend on this trail, at about mile 16, that I stepped wrong on a root or rock and rolled my left foot, HARD, twisting the ankle. I think I let out an audible yelp. (Question: If Carl twists an ankle in the forest, and no one is around, does he still make a sound?) I was hobbling at this point, and after a few more yards, sat down to tighten my shoes, hoping that would help stabilize things.
Continuing on, the Cliff trail heads up it's last hill. Cresting this hill is a steep downhill leading to the road. This hill has erosion breaks installed like steps, and a stone path at the bottom. In the "old days" there was none of that. We used to blaze down that hill, which when muddy caused everyone to slip and slide until we could get under control again just before the road. Our old HURT nickname for this section was "Giggle Hill."
Directly across the road, I enter Moleka Trail. This has always been one of my favorite sections. Almost immediately, I'm in among the bamboo, which is beautiful to run in, both by sight and sound. But I'm not running well, mostly hobbling on the bad ankle. Not too much later, I come to the four-way trail crossing at the top of Hogsback. From here, I repeat the Crossover section, and at the bottom, head down Kanealole Trail (Center Trail). It has struck me the last couple of visits that this trail has become more rocky and difficult at the top, but easier at the bottom, as there's now a bridge and gravel trail leading to the Nature Center.
At the Nature Center I sit and get some Kalua pork sandwiches as I have my ankle looked over. A big "mahalo" goes to the HURT foot doc, Joel Jenkins, for the great job he did taping my ankle. After putting on my shoes, and getting some sherbet from my great friend PJ Salmonson, I'm ready to go.
It was while rounding a bend on this trail, at about mile 16, that I stepped wrong on a root or rock and rolled my left foot, HARD, twisting the ankle. I think I let out an audible yelp. (Question: If Carl twists an ankle in the forest, and no one is around, does he still make a sound?) I was hobbling at this point, and after a few more yards, sat down to tighten my shoes, hoping that would help stabilize things.
Continuing on, the Cliff trail heads up it's last hill. Cresting this hill is a steep downhill leading to the road. This hill has erosion breaks installed like steps, and a stone path at the bottom. In the "old days" there was none of that. We used to blaze down that hill, which when muddy caused everyone to slip and slide until we could get under control again just before the road. Our old HURT nickname for this section was "Giggle Hill."
Directly across the road, I enter Moleka Trail. This has always been one of my favorite sections. Almost immediately, I'm in among the bamboo, which is beautiful to run in, both by sight and sound. But I'm not running well, mostly hobbling on the bad ankle. Not too much later, I come to the four-way trail crossing at the top of Hogsback. From here, I repeat the Crossover section, and at the bottom, head down Kanealole Trail (Center Trail). It has struck me the last couple of visits that this trail has become more rocky and difficult at the top, but easier at the bottom, as there's now a bridge and gravel trail leading to the Nature Center.
At the Nature Center I sit and get some Kalua pork sandwiches as I have my ankle looked over. A big "mahalo" goes to the HURT foot doc, Joel Jenkins, for the great job he did taping my ankle. After putting on my shoes, and getting some sherbet from my great friend PJ Salmonson, I'm ready to go.
One loop finished! 20 miles! Only 4 loops to go!
Heading out, the newly taped ankle feels great, and I'm able to run the runnable sections again. But as the saying goes, "This, too, shall pass." At about mile 25, a little over two miles from the Paradise Park aid station, I turn the same ankle again. This time it's very hard. I hear an audible snap and find myself on the ground. I manage to get back up and make it to the aid station, where I sat down, thinking I could not go on.
After sitting a bit, I tried to drop out. But after wonderful support and encouragement from aid station captain Rob Lahoe, I decide to continue. Rob rightly told me that I had plenty of time to just walk and finish the 100K.
Off I go, walking as briskly as I can. The uphills aren't too bad, as they limit the range of motion for my foot. The downhills are tougher, and cause my foot to hurt. They also give me more fear of twisting it again. I continue on, but the big, steep downhill on Nuuanu Trail is making me think it's just not to be.
Reaching the Jackass Ginger aid station at mile 32.7 I sit again. The fantastic aid station volunteers, led at this time of the night by Barbie McAllaster, bring me food and drink, and a bag of ice for my foot. By this time it was much more swollen. Someone brought me another chair so I could elevate my foot, and I sat there icing it for about 20 minutes.
I finally decided that if I continued to walk, the chance of spraining it again or doing greater damage was a real possibility. My downhill portions of walking had become even slower, and it took three hours to walk the leg I just finished. Even hitting the 100K in the time limit would take a tremendous effort. I was done.
I sat at the aid station a while, watching all the action until someone could take me back to the Nature Center. I finally got a ride with a great group of Canadians. Back at the Nature Center, I waited for Ron to come in and to see how he was doing. He finally came in, completely exhausted, and after much arguing, convinced everyone he had to drop. Ron had been fighting a cold the previous week, and it had taken it's toll.
HURT has defeated us both this year, but I'll be back, and I expect Ron will, too.
Heading out, the newly taped ankle feels great, and I'm able to run the runnable sections again. But as the saying goes, "This, too, shall pass." At about mile 25, a little over two miles from the Paradise Park aid station, I turn the same ankle again. This time it's very hard. I hear an audible snap and find myself on the ground. I manage to get back up and make it to the aid station, where I sat down, thinking I could not go on.
After sitting a bit, I tried to drop out. But after wonderful support and encouragement from aid station captain Rob Lahoe, I decide to continue. Rob rightly told me that I had plenty of time to just walk and finish the 100K.
Off I go, walking as briskly as I can. The uphills aren't too bad, as they limit the range of motion for my foot. The downhills are tougher, and cause my foot to hurt. They also give me more fear of twisting it again. I continue on, but the big, steep downhill on Nuuanu Trail is making me think it's just not to be.
Reaching the Jackass Ginger aid station at mile 32.7 I sit again. The fantastic aid station volunteers, led at this time of the night by Barbie McAllaster, bring me food and drink, and a bag of ice for my foot. By this time it was much more swollen. Someone brought me another chair so I could elevate my foot, and I sat there icing it for about 20 minutes.
I finally decided that if I continued to walk, the chance of spraining it again or doing greater damage was a real possibility. My downhill portions of walking had become even slower, and it took three hours to walk the leg I just finished. Even hitting the 100K in the time limit would take a tremendous effort. I was done.
I sat at the aid station a while, watching all the action until someone could take me back to the Nature Center. I finally got a ride with a great group of Canadians. Back at the Nature Center, I waited for Ron to come in and to see how he was doing. He finally came in, completely exhausted, and after much arguing, convinced everyone he had to drop. Ron had been fighting a cold the previous week, and it had taken it's toll.
HURT has defeated us both this year, but I'll be back, and I expect Ron will, too.
Epilog
After almost two weeks, my ankle is finally feeling almost better. The swelling has gone down on the foot, and the swollen lump on the ankle is shrinking. This weekend I'll probably test it with a short gentle jog on the treadmill.
Wednesday, January 13
Follow HURT - Another Update
The HURT 100 main website has been updated to include live race updates right on the main page. Just go to http://www.hurt100trailrace.com/ anytime this weekend to follow along. You can scroll right for times at each aid station/loop.
No login or Google account is required.
No login or Google account is required.
HURT 100 Live Runner Updates
The HURT 100 starts Saturday at 10:00 AM CST (6:00 AM in Hawaii) and goes until 10:00 PM CST on Sunday. I leave tomorrow morning, so I have a day to thaw out. :-)
The HURT team is still working on the details of live runner updates for this weekend’s race. I’ll post the details if they get published today, but you should be able to go to the race website prior to the weekend and get the info.
http://www.hurt100trailrace.com/
I believe they plan to use Google Docs, and have a shared spreadsheet that you can look at. You’ll probably need to register for Google access if you don’t have it already.
The HURT team is still working on the details of live runner updates for this weekend’s race. I’ll post the details if they get published today, but you should be able to go to the race website prior to the weekend and get the info.
http://www.hurt100trailrace.com/
I believe they plan to use Google Docs, and have a shared spreadsheet that you can look at. You’ll probably need to register for Google access if you don’t have it already.
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