As Aidan, our six month old little dude progresses through his infancy, Sam and I have been finding more and more creative ways to play with him and keep him entertained. My favorite thing to do during playtime is what I call the "flying baby". This involves me sitting the little dude upright on my lap facing me and putting me hands around his chest just below his arms. Then I ask him if he wants to be a flying baby. Every time I say that he smiles. I lift him up over my head, hold him parallel to the floor, and slowly move him around so it looks like he's flying like an airplane or floating through space like a baby astronaut. Think of it as him laying on his tummy, but in mid air. He's developed quite a bit of strength over the last few months so he's able to hold his body in that position if I have my hands wrapped around his chest. In an excitable tone I say "look, it's a flying baby! Watch out for flying babies, they'll kill you with cuteness". If Sam is sitting next to me sometimes I'll "float" him over to her and she'll kiss him. This routine is a sure way to get the little dude to smile and laugh. He loves every second of it. These are great moments of joy that I share with Aidan. But I never expected those moments would get me through low points during a 50K.
My drive from Sunnyvale to Auburn on that Saturday morning was pretty fast and uneventful. I wanted to get some food in my system before today's FOURmidable 50K, so I pulled over at Flying J's in Lodi and bought a bag of Hostess mini-donuts. Eating at 6:00 AM was not a normal activity for me and I had some butterflies going in anticipation of the race, but I was still able to wolf down several donuts during my drive. The sun had just finished rising as I arrived in Auburn. My buddy Arjun, whom I was friends with through Bay Area Runners, was also going to be running this race. He had arrived in town the evening before and gotten a hotel room at the Red Lion. This was the first time I was going to be running an ultra with someone from that circle. I started running with Bay Area Runners shortly after I moved to Silicon Valley from Los Angeles in early 2019 and I've met some really great people. I would never have met Sam if I hadn't joined Bay Area Runners. I first met her in May of 2019, and we became closer as friends as we spent more time together at group runs and social events. In December of that year I began liking her as more than a friend, but I wasn't ready to be with anyone at that point. I still needed to improve myself before that could happen. Finally, in June of 2020, after months of wondering if it was a good idea or not, I asked her out on a date. The rest is history.
The delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I walked into Depoe Bay Coffee Roasters on High Street. I picked up two cups of piping hot drip coffee and headed for Overlook Park, the start line of the race. I had some time to kill when I arrived, so I headed over to pick up my race packet and planned to return to my car to get ready afterwards. Arjun arrived just after I got my stuff and as I was heading back to my car. I made my final preparations i.e. pinning my bib to my shorts, applying lube and sunscreen, grabbing my hat, water bottle, and sunglasses, and changing into my running shoes before heading back to the start line. I handed Arjun his coffee when I returned. We had just enough time to engage in idle chatter and take a quick picture before the race started promptly at 8:00 AM. Arjun drank down the last of his coffee and we were off. Today's event was a single loop course and featured three races; a 50K, a 35K, and a half marathon. Each of the distances started fifteen minutes apart and we were the first to go. Two hundred and eight 50K runners made their way across the parking area before heading down into the canyon on a wide fire road. Arjun and I ran along side each other and discussed our plan. We would stay together for as long as we felt like and if one of us felt like pulling ahead or needed to drop back, we would part ways and plan to see each other at the finish line. Less than a week prior, on Super Bowl Sunday morning, Arjun took a nasty fall while running through a mud puddle on the Bay Trail. He suffered a few scrapes on his elbow and couple of bruised ribs. Not serious injuries, but very painful ones. Most people don't realize the impact that ribs have on our bodies until they're injured. If a rib injury is bad enough, sometimes even breathing can be painful. His condition improved the last few days before the race, although it still hurt when he got up from a lying down position or coughed. Nevertheless, he felt well enough to attempt today's race. He later referred to that decision as "probably an exercise in stubbornness bordering on stupidity." He expressed his concerns to me as we made our way down into the canyon. "Dude, honestly, is running a 50K ever really a 'good' idea?" I asked. He laughed in agreement. I urged him to simply do his best. If he had to slow down or even drop, it was totally okay. DNF's are part of the sport.
Before long, we arrived at the bottom of the gorge and began the first climb of the race up Cardiac Hill. The single track trail followed several switch backs, and we made our way upwards with a small pack of runners. As we hiked along, we talked about all kinds of stuff. Me becoming a dad, ultrarunners we like, and our reasons for getting into the sport. Normally I'm pretty quiet in the early miles of ultramarathons, but having a buddy there to chat and share stories with was helping the time and miles pass by quickly. As we approached the first aid station about six miles in, Arjun was having doubts regarding whether or not he could finish. Taking deep breaths was still a bit painful for him. I told him to do what he had to do, and again, no shame in dropping if need be. We parted ways shortly after the aid station and I pulled ahead. Now on my own, I followed the trail along the American River. When I stopped to take a picture of the landscape I noticed two women out of the corner of my eye running the opposite way. "Liam!" one of them called out. It was my friend Julie who had moved to the Sacramento area from Palo Alto a couple of years prior. She was also a member of Bay Area Runners when she was living in Silicon Valley. Her and her friend weren't running the race, they just happened to be out for a morning trail run. I was surprised and happy to see her, it had been quite a while. We spent a minute or so chatting and I told her to be on the lookout for Arjun, who was probably about a mile or so back at this point.
I kept following the course and eventually No Hand Bridge came into view. I had run across it several times in several races in the Auburn area and the views never disappoint. I stopped at the aid station on the other end of the bridge, refilled my water bottle, thanked the volunteers, stuffed a corner of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my mouth and grabbed a few Oreos. In terms of food, I stuck with peanut butter and jelly and Oreos throughout the entire race. I stuffed a couple of Oreos into my mouth as I climbed up the trail towards K2. An oncoming 35K runner approached. I nodded and attempted to give him kudos but the partially chewed Oreos reduced my words to a mumble. It came out something like "hey bwow, gwood jwowb". Fun times. A short time later, about eleven miles in, I began the climb up the infamous K2 Trail, also known as Training hill. This steep and technical ascent is widely known in the Auburn area as a real ass kicker. As the nickname implies, lots of people come out here and use it as their training ground for endurance events. Just so people know what they're in for, the sign on the trail at the bottom of the climb reads "Training Hill Trail (steep)". The uphill was savage, but I climbed step by step up the trail through the lush forest. It's been quite a wet winter in California and the recent rain made the wilderness quite colorful and vibrant. One thing that was working in our favor today was the weather. February in Northern California can be unpredictable, but today we had partly cloudy skies. The temperature had been forty degrees Fahrenheit at the start line, which was prefect for me, and we were looking at a high of around sixty degrees. I really couldn't complain too much about those conditions, but I could feel the warm sun as I labored up the trail.
After I survived Training Hill, the trail followed a gradual downhill through a more open area with green fields and fewer trees. The trail was smooth and the distant green slopes of the Sierra foothills surrounded the grassy hillside. At times, the white, snow covered mountain tops of Lake Tahoe were visible on the horizon. Things were going pretty pleasantly as I exited the trail and headed down a remote backcountry road towards the next aid station at Knickerbocker. After departing the aid station things took a plunge, literally and metaphorically. The trail descended down a rocky fire road towards the river. Theoretically a downhill traverse would feel good mid-way through a 50K, but the problem was my feet. I had opted to wear my Vibram 5-fingers instead of my Hoke One One Speedgoats. I really like my Hokas but they're just so big. I prefer minimal footwear. I had done trail races in the past with Vibrams and decided to give it a try again. In retrospect, that was probably a bad choice. I think it slowed me down in this race. By the time I arrived at the bottom of the gorge I had stepped on a sharp rock at least a dozen times. Each time, the impact sent a lightning bolt of pain up through my body. No matter how hard I tried to avoid stepping on the sharp rocks, it kept happening. That really sucked. But what goes down must go back up. The descent was followed by another climb back up to the road and to the Knickerbocker aid station. The incline was more gentle on my feet, much to my relief and delight.
After passing through Knickerbocker for a second time I now had about thirteen miles left. It had been a good day overall. I was feeling good, having something to eat at all the aid stations, I was staying hydrated, and peeing consistently. "Don't get reckless" I told myself. "Just hold it together for twelve more miles, and you're good". I mostly ran alone for the next hour or so. The pack had thinned out quite a bit and only I saw a couple of runners for the next several miles. The terrain gave way to rolling hills along the countryside and I was able to cruise and let my mind wander. I thought a lot about Sam and Aidan. I thought about how wild it was that I was now a dad. It felt so cool to be out here running my first ultra since becoming a father. I began to have visions of doing the flying baby routine with the little dude. I visualized him floating around in front of me on the trail as I ran along. He was smiling and laughing just like he always does when we do the flying baby. Only in my vision, I wasn't holding him. He was just floating all around me as I ran. It made me smile. "I love you, little dude" I said to myself out loud. I thought about how great of a mom Sam is to him and how much I love her too. When you're twenty miles into an ultra and you're all alone on the trail, sometimes your mind goes into some wild places. Being an ultrarunner dad is so dope!
At around mile twenty-one I crossed a creek through shin deep water. The cold water sure felt great on my aching feet. At mile twenty-seven I found myself plodding along the rolling trail with highway 49 through the trees and down the slope to my right. I was starting to get frustrated because I was supposed to be approaching the final aid station at No Hands Bridge soon, but the trail just kept going. And going. It seemed like it was taking way too long. "Where the hell is No Hands Bridge?" I asked myself out loud. Finally, the trail began a descent, and the canvas tent of the aid station came into view. I got what I needed, thanked the volunteers and slowly crossed the bridge once again. From here, I had less than four miles to go. The problem was most of that remaining distance was going to be uphill with a really brutal climb at the very end. But I knew how I was going to get through it. The visions I had of flying babies on the trail earlier in the race carried me along pleasantly and my running felt effortless at times. I knew it was going to get tough these last few miles. My secret weapon to getting through it this time around was flying babies on the trail. Shortly after crossing the bridge a woman I had met earlier in the race came up behind me. Her name was Betty, and we leap frogged each other for the second half of the race, exchanging small talk and words of encouragement. "How's it going Betty?" I asked as she passed by. "I'm tired" she replied. "It's time for me to unleash my inner David Goggins". That made me laugh. Anyone who follows Goggins knows exactly what she means. I've gained more of a sense of appreciation for him recently. He may be overly intense, but he's got one hell of a story and he's very motivating. I definitely like him more now than I used to. Betty and I continued leapfrogging each other for the last couple of miles and chatted, which helped keep me going.
They weren't kidding when they said the last climb up to the finish line at Overlook Park was hard. It was a beast. With less than a mile to go, I was so close, but the elements were forcing me to move very slowly. I visualized my little dude floating around me smiling and laughing throughout most of the final ascent. And man, did it help. There are very few things in this world that make me happier than Aidan's smile and laugh. I could be having a really shitty day but if I see him look at me and smile, it just makes everything better. I knew that this race was going to be unlike any other ultramarathon I've ever run. And indeed, it was. I never thought that I would visualize my infant son floating around me with a big smile on his face as a means of motivating me during a race. I'm sure it won't be the last time I use that method and I'm sure Aidan (and his potential little sibling, if we can make that happen) will be a big inspiration to me for the rest of my life. I finally heard the sweet sounds of the finish line close by. Everyone who runs races knows those sounds. The sound of the race announcer on the PA system, the sound of music playing, and the sound of cheering. It means you're almost there and you're going to make it. It's always a welcoming sound. I crested the top of the hill and the last fifty feet was a flat stretch. I crossed the finish line seven hours and twenty-five minutes after departing the start line that morning. I clapped my hands in celebration and thanked the volunteer who handed me my finishers prize, a FOURMidable race themed canteen. I walked over to a tent where another volunteer filled my canteen with beer and congratulated me.
About thirty minutes after I finished Arjun emerged from the top of the final climb. I cheered and ran the last flat section with him just before the finish line. We then embraced and congratulated each other on finishing today's race. We shared stories of the journey as we chowed down on some burgers and fries, courtesy of FOURmidable's awesome finish line accommodations. I was super stoked that he was able to push through the pain in his ribs, overcome his doubt, and cross the finish line. He knew what it took to get the job done and I was proud of him. We saw Betty and congratulated her on her finish as well. As we walked back to our cars I said to Arjun semi-jokingly "okay dude, Canyons is just two of that. No problem, right?". He gave me a look as if he was telling me to shut up with his eyes. We both laughed. We would also both be attempting The Canyons 100K together at the end of April. Today was good preparation for it, but both of us had training to do before that day came. After we parted ways and I got back to my car, I pushed Canyons aside in my head. Not that I didn't want to think about it, but all I really cared about at that moment was getting back home to be with Sam and my little dude. Oh yeah, and a nice hot shower too.
