July 28, 2006
I participated in a very unique local informal race, the Millcreek 50K. What makes this race unique is that it is run during the night, starting at 9 p.m. It was a great chance to meet more local runners, put in an intense long training run, and enjoy the Wasatch Mountains of Utah during the night.
The course travels through and above Millcreek Canyon near Salt Lake City, Utah. The start was located at the Big Water Trailhead (an aid station location for Wasatch Front 100). We would climb above the canyon using the Great Western Trail, hook up with the Desolation Trail (part of the WF100 course), travel on the ridges between Millcreek and Big Cottonwood Canyon, drop down back into Millcreek Canyon via Bowman Fork, travel up the canyon to Elbow Fork, descend the canyon on the pipeline trail, and end the run with a grueling climb and descent of Grandeur Peak. The total elevation climb would be more than 10,000 feet – very tough for a 50K.
I have a strange affinity for running at night. I enjoy the cool temperatures, the solitude, the peace, and the night sounds. I also take pleasure in the technical challenge it presents. In order to produce speed, your feet must be able to “feel” the trail and adapt quickly to obstacles that your eyes cannot see. You must put trust in your balance abilities. Your concentration must be intense. You must not fear the occasional face plants. I also like night runs because they don’t impact my family time.
My recent training regiment has been somewhat odd – Very long runs on the weekend and no running during weekdays as I recover and taper for the next event. I’ve put in a record (for me) 290 miles during the month of July including three full dusk-to-dawn runs. I’ve only run nine days this month. It has been a strange schedule, but I can feel that I’m continuing to make great training progress. Four days since my first road marathon, I already felt totally recovered and ready for another long run.
Thirty-two local runners showed up for the run. About five had started an hour or so early. We all brought items to donate to an aid station and a couple of water spots. The temperature was warm enough for short sleeves all night, even on the high ridges. I started the race in mid-pack and enjoyed talking to and meeting some other local runners. Within a mile our lights were on and I concentrated more on keeping a good pace going. I passed a few runners and settled into a gap between groups of runners, in about 10th place. This was a strong race for me; I would never be passed by any runner.
The climb up the Great Western trail was a cat and mouse game, trying to keep ahead of the lights behind me, and trying to catch the lights ahead. As I reached the top of the ridges above The Canyons ski resort, I could see the lights of Park City below. The trail now rolled up and down along the ridges. I finally caught the runner ahead of me and introduced myself. My pace was faster on the downhills than his, so I pressed on ahead. When I reached the Desolation Trail, I really kicked in the speed on the steeper downhill. My legs felt strong. My lights illuminated the trail well, and I really started to cruise. In just a couple minutes I overtook running friend Jason Berry and another runner. Jason is a strong runner and I thought he would catch up with me later, so I didn’t stop to chat. (I wouldn’t see him again). I continued to blast down the trail and passed a group of startled early starters.
I reached Dog Lake (about mile 10) at the 2-hour mark. Some kind souls had hauled up Gatorade, Gu, and water. I quickly refueled and was on my way before any other lights appeared. I realized that I was now in a unique position, running near the front. The next section was a long challenging, mostly flat traverse trail, with lots of bushes. It felt like running through jungle. It reminded me of “Leland’s ledge” or “Devil’s Den” section of The Bear 100. I concentrated very hard to keep a fast run going despite the obstacles. I knew most runners would probably walk much of this section, so I thought it would be fun to try to keep the run going and see if I could catch runners ahead and create a big gap behind me. Because the “jungle” conditions hid the trail surface from my eyes, my feet had to really feel the trail and I had to trust my balance. I experienced two face plants during this section but jumped back up quickly. When the second fall occurred, I just simply yelled out loud, “Number two.”
While climbing up to the saddle near Gobbler’s Knob, I could see one light up above, and finally I could see lights far behind me. When I ran up and over the pass, I quickly caught up to the runner ahead who was walking. He said he was doing fine, so I pushed ahead hard on the long downhill in Bowman’s Fork to the Canyon floor. Next up was another long climb near Alexander Basin. There was no sign of lights behind or ahead. I took face plant number three on the descent into the Elbow Fork aid station. The guys there were very kind and helped me refuel. They told me that I was doing great, running in fifth place, but the runners ahead had about an hour lead. Boy, they were fast.
Next up was a very fun, rolling run down the pipeline trail, a popular mountain bike trail. I really kicked up the speed and could see a light up on the ridge far behind me descending in to Elbow Fork. At about the 26-mile mark, at 3 a.m. (six hours), I reached the trailhead for the long out-and-back climb to the top of Grandeur Peak. I set a goal to get up there by 4 a.m.
Far up on the mountain I could see the lights of the front-runners. Even though they were an hour ahead of me, it felt cool to be running close to them, and being so far ahead of the main pack. Soon a light was coming down toward me. The runner quickly explained that he didn’t make it to the top. About half way he started throwing up and was dizzy, so he decided to quit and head down. I wished him well, and hoped he would be fine. I now had only three runners ahead of me. When I was about a third of the way up, the two leaders and eventual winners greeted me. I next located a lone light high on the mountain. How cool was this? Running at night, being able to see the progress of co-runners ahead. Behind me it was dark. No one was chasing me.
At about 2/3rds up, the third place runner greeted me. I pressed on hard up the steep mountain. I was very pleased with my pace and strength. It was steady and strong. After some false summits, I finally reached the top of the peak at 4:06 a.m. I was greeted with a spectacular view of the night-lights of the Salt Lake Valley. It was incredible. I didn’t dilly-dally at the top. I turned around and headed down. On the way down I did run into a few runners coming up. I was surprised to see how few there were and how far behind they were. One runner recognized my green light, greeted me, and asked if I was in first place. I laughed and let him know that I was in 4th place.
I continued to run pretty fast down the mountain, still feeling great, and cruised into the finish area at the 7:49 mark, 4th place. It had been a tough 50K, but I had had a blast. Running buddy, Jim Skaggs was sitting there in the chair. He called it quits after 26 miles, avoiding the grueling climb up Grandeur. After talking for a bit, I headed up to my dad’s cabin about a mile away, took a shower and slept for a few hours. I returned to the finish line in time to see the last two runners come in. Of the 32 starters, 14 completed the course. About 10 others decided to quit after 26 miles. The others packed it in at earlier points.
The night race was very unique and challenging. The course was well-marked, but still required careful attention and confidence that you were indeed heading the right way. Kudos to all who spent their time and effort organize this event.