2008 Twin Peaks 50/50 Ultra

Race day snuck up on me so quickly. It seems like yesterday when I first registered for the 2008 Twin Peaks 50/50 Ultra. The emotional rollercoaster between race registration and race postponement; race training to foot injury; sickness and recovery would be reflected during this 50-mile trek.

Race day started at 1:30 AM, I quickly woke up, suited up, took care of the bathroom business, to be ready just in time for my ride. Bruce showed up to pick me up in his Land Rover, windows marked up in bright yellow paint: "Go Cris Go!" "Team Francisco Rocks". Although I was tired, I quickly got pumped up. We chatted along the way to the starting line, while I sipped on my Cytomax and chowed down on a Bruegger's bagel (my typical prerace meal).

Arriving at the Indian Truck Trail entrance in Corona, I got together my water bottles filled with Cytomax, and stuffed my pockets with 6 GU gels, 8 SaltStick caps and enough Fig Newtons and Nutter Butters for the first 6 hours of running. With my Garmin 201 and 305 on and headlamp ready, I was ready to embark on my first 50 miler.

Coming off of a bruise foot injury 2 weeks prior and just recovering from a cold several days beforehand, my plan was to take it easy. For me, that meant to jog the flats, briskly walk the hills and jog down the hills, and hopefully, finish the race.

After the race director, Jessica Deline, finished giving the course directions and race instructions, we got the count 4, 3, 2, 1 and we were off (at about 4:05 AM). I immediately started to jog the flats and briskly walk the hills, and after about 5 minutes, I could faintly see two lamps in the lead. Eventually after 30-40 minutes, I was sharing the lead with Mike. We chatted over the next 10-12 miles in the dense fog.

My main concern was that the aid stations were not going to be ready by the time I got to them. I would soon find out. By the time we hit the Main Divide, we noticed that the aid station was not setup. Because we still had fluid, we should be able to make it to the West Horsethief Aid Station with no problem w/o extra fluid.

Along the way, we ran into an aid truck headed in the opposite direction, who graciously offered help and apologized for not being setup in time. Who could blame them? While running, we couldn't see more than 5-10 feet in front of us. I filled up on water, wished them well, and kept trucking along.

Soon, we came to the West Horsethief turn. The fog was so thick that Mike totally missed the sign. Fortunately, I was familiar with the course, having run most of this course in training. Calling him over, we both dropped down out of the fog to Trabuco Creek. By this time, daylight began to peak through, and I was able to shut off my headlamp. With our conversations, time flew by so quickly that before we knew it, we were at Holy Jim arriving at 6:55am.

At that point in the race, my running partner had to take a bathroom break, so we split ways. The setup crew for the Holy Jim aid station was just arriving. A lady asked me if I was in the race and I showed her my bib #75. Then, she told me that I was in the lead. Although I knew this already, it just hit me: I was in the LEAD.

Being that this aid station wasn't ready, I proceeded to climb Holy Jim, thinking that I would fill up at the Upper Holy Jim station which was scheduled to open by 8:00 AM. Climbing Holy Jim solo in the dense fog was dare I say "easy" compared to my previous training runs in the heat.

At the top of Holy Jim, there was no aid station to be found, so I proceeded to Santiago Peak. I knew that I was running low on fluid, but I could not do anything about it at this point. The temperature was definitely beginning to drop as I climbed. At the hairpin turn near the entrance to Upper Holy Jim, the wind was howling and blowing the moist fog to the core of my bones. My hands and lips were numb, but I kept hiking up the mountain.

Two miles before I reached the peak, I sipped the last of the fluids left in my bottles. I began to become thirsty, and prayed for strength and provision. I recalled Bible verses reminding me of God being a source of life and water. That encouraged me to get to the top of Santiago Peak. Arriving at the top, an aid station volunteer arrived just in time. I filled up on water and then proceeded down the hill.

On the way down, I passed by three or four other runners. While dropping down Upper Holy Jim to the Holy Jim aid station, I started to see many runners from both the 4am and 5am. At this point, time just flew by until I hit the West Horsethief Trail, which rises 1,400 feet in about a mile and a half. Although this trail was very strenous, I grinded it out to the top of the trail, which put at about mile 32 of the race.

Reaching the aid station at the top, I filled my bottles, drank some hot chicken soup, and headed toward Santiago Peak again. During my ascent to the peak for the second time, I really started to feel the fatigue setting in, but I continued to run/walk until I hit the summit at ~40 miles. Once I got there, it was confirmed that I was still in the lead, but I had a strong feeling that it wouldn't last. I filled up on fluids for the last time and proceeded toward the Indian Truck Trail.

Jogging the final miles of the race down the Indian Truck Trail, I felt a nauseous on a couple of occasions. I quickly ate a GU gel or Fig Newton and SaltStick cap, which seemed to alleviate the feelings. Seeing the countdown to 50 on my GPS watch, my hopes raised going from 48 to 49. However, when my watch hit 50 miles, I looked ahead at the trail only to see a long winding trail with no end in sight. Although my spirits fell along with my confidence in my watch's accuracy, I knew that this was the time that I needed to stay mentally strong. I remembered all of the preparation and training that I put into race, the past 11 hours of running that I already covered, and all of my friends and family watching for me at the finish. It was definitely a mentally challenging moment in the race, but I pushed through it.

I pushed through mile 51, 52 and soon, I saw the finish line and heard the cheers. A sudden surge of energy came through me and I started sprinting toward the finish line. I was quickly swarmed with hugs and kisses from my friends and family. I did it--I finished what I thought was 50 miles with 12,600 of cumulative elevation gain. Once the official results were released, it turns at that the race was actually 52.5 miles with 17,000 of cumulative elevation gain in 11:25:33. I guess my watch didn't let me down after all.

Although I was wondering how someone could possibly run more than 50 miles during the latter part of this race, I'm ready to find out for myself.