Rough day at the office today.  It only took the first climb of the 19mi Sierre-Zinal race to figure out it wasn’t going to go the way I planned.  The first climb was the whole first half of the race but…

The short of it: I ended up dying the worst death I’ve ever experienced and finished up in 20^th at 2:55. I didn’t even think I was capable of dying that badly.

The long of it: I was actually figuring out the title of this blog post as I was running. That’s how well it was going. There were a lot of things that didn’t fall into place and a lot of things that went wrong. I’ll spare you all the excuses but I’m sure some of you are wondering what could possibly go that wrong.  Lets first start off with the pressure I put on myself. It seems that whenever I take a race very seriously something like this happens. I had pretty high expectations coming all the way to Switzerland, like winning. Probably shooting a bit high in retrospect, but that’s ok. So we set off up the climb from Sierre at a good clip and I felt pretty good. That is until we really started to go up. The pitch started off at a reasonable 10-12%, something I’m used to, but quickly shot upward to about 35, maybe 40%. I quickly lowered my expectations as the lead group of three ran away up the climb. I was hoping to reel them in later but then the second group started to catch me… and then pass me. I was able to stay with them until the top of the climb but as it flattened out and I should have been switching gears, that group switched gears and I swear I threw it in reverse.  I lowered my expectations again. I didn’t have anything left after the climb. It was the steepest, longest climb I’ve ever done. Probably part of the reason the race didn’t go well. Usually running at an elite level requires training and I did not train correctly for this race. Problem #1. 

My expectations were to stay just off the lead pack up the climb, take it easy because I knew that wasn’t my strong point, then fly down the flatter sections later in the race. Problem is, you’ve got to still have something left after the climb to run the rest of the race. I would have done great if I’d started at the 9 mile mark.

Problem #2. After reaching the top of the climb I’d been working pretty hard for about an hour at this point and knew that by the end of the race I would need some electrolytes. So I reached for my electrolytes in my back pocket but found it empty. They had bounced out and I was out of luck. Remind me to speak with the designers. Love the new Mtn Hardwear shorts but we’re going to need to work on the pocket security.  This had some pretty dramatic consequences later in the race as each of my leg muscles took turns twinging and twanging in cramps on my way back down the mountain into Zinal. At one point I stubbed a toe on a rock and trying to keep my balance I took a few steps that required some extra strength to stay on my feet and every muscle I used talked back to me. An adductor cramped, then my hamstring, then finally my calves.  Just the fact that I was cramping gives you some idea of how far gone I was because generally I don’t cramp when I’m low on electrolytes, I just get tired and slow down first, then finally cramp…apparently. Makes me think that about the last half of the race I was feeling the effects of low electrolytes.  This just reinforces what I’ve learned the past year: Take your electrolytes kids…and don’t do drugs, stay in school.  Reminded once again how important correct nutrition is, especially in long technical mountain races.  The only thing sore the next day was that adductor too.

As I wound down the trail my body followed by winding down, literally. The last couple miles were a struggle to maintain body control. Over the technical trail I kind of felt like I was throwing by body where it should go and hoping to have enough leg strength to keep me upright.  Had I felt a bit better and made a conscious decision to give up and jog it in, it might have been enjoyable. I could have chatted with the locals, checked out the enormous views, and walked through the aid stations enjoying what they had to offer (I don’t get to do that very often but in this case I actually did do that though it was hardly enjoyable). 

Racers were pretty spread out and only once in a while would another come trotting by me. While they weren’t in quite the shape I was in, they weren’t really running much faster though either. I think this course gets to just about everyone.  The one thing that I did find annoying (ok, not the only thing at this point) was that at Sierre-Zinal they start the “tourists” (their word, not mine) at 4am. This puts them squarely on the mid to late section of the race as we go through. At this point it’s single track and on one side you have a steep hillside going up and the other is …yes, a steep hillside going down.  That doesn’t leave a lot of passing room and since they’re going the same direction as you are, they don’t move without some verbal commands, which are hard to come by at 8000ft and 15miles in.  Not the best set up but it does make for a few spectators where there wouldn’t normally be any.

I have to say though, it was a good learning experience, it’s a beautiful area, and I’ve found a tough trail race that I couldn’t get right the first time. Sierre Zinal is the toughest course I’ve ever run. It broke me down to a whimpering school boy.  All that means is that I’ll be back until I figure it out.  It’s a good challenge that could take me a couple of years to complete.  The race organization does an exceptional job with all of the invited athletes. Catered breakfast, lunch, and dinner while mixing in local culture with special meals and events. It’s quite a week.

As I’m writing this I’m riding the train back to Geneva to catch my flight home in the morning and my legs are still cramping.  Since I had to leave for the airport after the race, Brandy, Matt (her husband), Glen and I all took the train together into Geneva, spent an hour in the airport figuring out a hotel. Eventually Glen came through big time and got us a free room at the Holiday Inn.  It had a twin bed, which Glen took since he got the room, but he didn’t get a sheet. Brandy and Matt took the sheet and slept on the floor, and I got the throw to put down on the nasty carpet. We finished off a ¾ liter of Malibu Rum (Glen did most of the damage), which I haven’t had in years but was really delicious under the circumstances. And we all crashed out until departing for our flights in the morning.

Just to pour salt in the wound, my headphone jack in my seat on the plane wouldn’t work on the trip home. 10 hrs I could watch movies but not hear what they were saying. Needless to say it was a pretty boring flight and a bit frustrating.

Putting in a good word for Megan and Dakota, Megan had another great race this year. Not quite a win and she probably won’t be happy with her race, but I was impressed. And Dakota came by me in the last 4km of the race looking pretty fresh, at the finish line he looked a bit different with blood and dirt all over himself. Apparently he went down right after passing me. So I said, “That’s right. That’s what you get for passing me. Boo ya.” Well, maybe not quite what I said. But he had a great race despite that little spill.

Good luck to all of Team Montrail at UTMB. Go get em. Just glad I don’t have to climb any more of those hills this week. Until Tranrockies next week anyway.

I’m teaming up Ryan Bak, an old Oregon Track Club teammate of mine, to take on worthy rivals from the UK, Flagstaff, and across the US next week at  the Transrockies 6-Day Stage Race. Follow us at www.transrockies.com.