Peacock 54 -- 2010 (Caution: Work in Progress)

Note:  This is not a complete report, and I am still working on it.  But to maintain some timeliness I have decided to post it now as I work on it....thanks

I hadn't been hitting the trails at Peacocks this year.  I burned out on the 24 hour sessions last year, and frankly I was just tired of hard roads and despite the fact that they are not paved those jeep roads up on Peacocks are like concrete during the summer. I also just don't like the drive, or get up at 3:00 AM. In any event the race this year was something I had been thinking about and reluctantly decided I needed to do. I did not, however, go into it unprepared, as I learned my lesson at the Triple Trek. I spent a day getting my gear together, packing the car, and even found time to mentally run the race in my mind, which caused me to change a few things in my stashes.  The preparation made all the difference. 

I got to the start early, and set up my stuff in my car.  A nice thing about Peacock is you can actually go to your car at the airport turn.  We started and it was unclear to me just how many people had come out to do the race.  Maybe 50 or so it looked like which is quite a turn out for Peacock. I wandered along with Don Fallis as the rest of the gang ran up the switchbacks.  I was a bit concerned about my legs.  That hamstring was a little tender, and I didn't want to push it.  I had not had time to talk with Don recently so it was nice to just walk along the switch backs and chat, plus I found didn't need my headlamp and Don was having a bit of a problem so I gave it to him.  We were far behind by the time we hit the picnic table at the top of the Kealia switchbacks, and  I fell farther behind Don when I stopped to tie my shoes, and take care of some other things. I was dead last once again.  I pushed up the trail following behind Don for quite some way, not quite able to catch him, not really feeling like pushing hard so early, yet getting in the mood for some heavy breathing and muscle pain. 

Don and I had already commented on the heat.  The sun had barely come up and the land was radiating warmth.  The air was still and the humidity high.  We were both drenched in sweat and sucking down water. To say it looked like it would be a 'hot one' was evident, and we knew we were in for a trying day and all that running in the heat can bring on. Peacocks is vicious in the heat, with the first two miles straight up, then later a long ridge line trail along the Waianae range, then the cross-over valleys where there is usually is no wind, and finally the steep open areas of Long Road.   I've run out of water more than enough times not to understand that you can not carry too much water.  The added weight is minimal when one thinks back on the pain and suffering of those many dry miles up top.

We reached the last long up before the Kuaokala sign and I passed Don, then caught up with Bob and Barbie McAlester.   I was climbing the hills hard, as it felt good.  I was up on the balls of my feet and leaning into the steeps and just about jogging up the hill.  Not wise, but I knew it would be for only a few minutes, and I wanted to get my heart rate up and break through the morning lethargy.   Bob caught me on a down and we walked together for a while, then we hit another steep and I left him and Barbie behind and finally reached the top and headed down into the windy valley road of the first section of Gordon's loop.

Gordon's loop is two basic sections.  The first section is the jeep road down and into the northern valley and then the trail section along the ridge line and back to the Kuoakala road. The valleys were suddenly cool and refreshing I fast paced the section fairly well. I was alone in the early morning along tree tunneled road, open ridges with views of the North Shore, and vistas across the valleys at the northwestern end of the island. I could just hear runners ahead of me, and those that had already reached the ridge trail across the valley. I'd occasionally catch sight of them, but I was unable to estimate how far ahead they were.  It didn't matter really, as I was running my own race.  It had taken me 1:30 or so to get to the turn onto Gordon's Loop, which was a bit slow.  I knew I was too far back to catch anyone ahead of me for a long time.  I pushed on, and finally heard someone coming up on me.  It was Barbie. She laughed when she caught me.  "I can run the downs," she said, "but you'll be leaving me on the first up.  I need to get some distance in while I can."  I took my cue from her and increased my pace to a jog and followed along behind Barbie.  The increased speed was good  as it helped me make up some time and got me into the jogging routine, which is often hard for me to do right off, particularly with the early race weight.  I finally said good bye to Barbie on the paved hill that leads up to the Radar Balls, and pushed hard on the long up.

I had started with a 100 ounces of cold water in my camel, and two eight ounce containers of muscle milk.  I had been sucking the water liberally using the many short shots approach.  A frequent half a mouth full of water is better than a long gulps every ten minutes or so.  I use less water and feel better as the water does not pool in my gut as much.  Hydration was constant and without stress.   When I hit a hill I would pop a goo block.  The Margarita variety are triple sodium so I figured I was making up for the heavy sweating.  In addition to this I was doing some Calcium/Magnesium Lactate for muscle fatigue, and every hour I was taking an S-cap, and if it got strenuous perhaps two if it felt right. Though I was far behind the rest of the pack I was pushing quite hard and giving myself no rest.  It was one long constant hard stride. The same stride I could do for fifty, or a hundred or two hundred miles. I am the tortoise, but I do not stop, I do not rest, I just keep moving.  It doesn't pay to push 200 plus pounds to fast down the road.

I reached the aid station feeling great and doing maybe 3:20.  I still had plenty of water, and I had been sucking it liberally near the end.  I loaded up almost a 100 once again.  The heat was drenching me and I planned on drinking a lot on the first loop.  I'd have a few major pulls before I got to the top of  Long Road.  Rob Lahoe who was running the aid station and I talked over the times. He was amazed at the pace. Like me, he figured three hours to climb out of Kealia and do Gordon's loop was about right. I was just a bit behind that pace, while other runners   had been flying through in under two!  I've done maybe a 2:25, but I at the time knew I wasn't going two full laps. It was obvious that the heat would be taking its toll but just when was any body's guess.  I had seen some pretty ragged people on Long Road the year before, and I expected to see the same this year.  It would be quite a show I knew that.

I downed my first muscle milk and headed out of the aid station at the same hard stride.  One, two, three, four! Push, push, push, push.  Alu loa, alu loa! alu alu alu alu! ...over and over and over again.  I knew the cross-over to be a place where the mind wanders, and times stretch out like a an old sticky rubber band.   The push to Endless Valley, then the long looping, dishonest road down through the valley, then out, and out again, and then the gate, two short valleys, and finally the sight of the Norfolk pines.  An hour or under for the trek.   Alu! Alu, alu, Loa!!.

I was pretty much alone the entire way on the cross over.  The others would take at least an hour and a half to go down and up Long Road, so I figured I'd be meeting the entire race along the down.  I pushed on with the goal of doing a bit under one hour.  I had learned a trick from Barbie who was running in the center of the road where it was a bit softer, and I expanded on that often running in the debris on the side of the road.  It helped, but my Adidas trail shoes were not up to the challenge of the hard road.  I had wondered if they would be, but  started out in them not really knowing the conditions, and going with the shoes that I trusted the most.   It was a borderline choice, and the hardness was already taking its toll on my legs along the cross-over.  Other than that I was fine.  I was drinking liberally, my nutrition was good, with a protein drink just before the start and another at Rob's aid station and I had one more in my pack that I planned to do at the top of long road.  It was hot, it was sunny, I had already draped one of my neckerchiefs over my head to block the sun from my neck and ears.  I was pushing hard and making my times. 

There were some people coming back along the cross-over before I even got to the pavement, which didn't seem right.  I didn't know if they were racers, but if they were they were either very fast, or they had not done Gorden's Loop, which had not been marked particularly well.  I 'Goo Jawwed 'em and pushed on.  I ran into a few more people on the first section of the road before the green gate, and these looked like the front runners.  I hit the gate in under an hour,  grabbed my muscle milk and headed down the road ready to enjoy the show.  And it was quite a parade, with the fast group having perhaps fifteen people in it.  It was amazing.  Most were pushing quite hard, but were not showing too much stress, others were already pushing too hard for this point in the race. With barely 25 percent of the race complete many were 75 percent done in. A few would be lucky to reach the airport without a long stop with Rob.   I didn't feel bad about being slow, I knew what I had to do, and the finish was my goal.

'Boy am I glad I'm not fast!"  I said to Huddy as he moved by me.  He just shook a finger at me.  He knew I was right.   Many of these same people, who were now almost two hours ahead of me, would be finishing with me, or not at all.  The pace was very fast and their were just too many people trying to do it.  I eyed the crowd like a wolf looking for the weaker in the herd.  Who, I thought would I be feasting on near the end of this race?  The selection was broad.  I passed Ed at the beginning of the Long Switch and asked him how he was doing.  His answer was not positive.   He asked me who I was doing and I just laughed.  "I feel fine!" I said, "I'm not going fast."   It went on like that for quite some time, and it wasn't until I hit the flat section near the bottom that I finally began to pass runners who looked like they were doing their pace.

I hit the aid station at the bottom of Long Road feeling good, doing another sub hour section.  I had run through here before in my mind and knew what I needed to do.  I gave my pack to one of the helpers after unhooking and unscrewing the bladder--good intentions aside, it never ever pays to rely on people to not screw up your gear---and got together my stuff.  I downed a cold V8 from my cooler, helped myself to two muscle milks, and grabbed another pack of blocks. I had a couple of glasses of cold water and sucked on an orange slice.  The guy gave me my pack back I loaded it with the muscle milk, threw the strap over my shoulder, thanked everyone and was gone.  It took me a minute of slow walking to straighten out the bladder which was twisted and not tight, and then I was hoofing it again. One. Two. Three. Four.  Alu, alu, alu, Loa. Push, push, push, Push.  Just because I was not running does not mean that I was not determined.

I could see a few people up ahead of me on the switchbacks and pushed hard trying to make every step count.  The ups are mine.  If I am to make any time it on the steep switches where my pace becomes faster than most runners can make.  I adjusted my shoulder straps, letting the pack hang from my waist and taking the pressure off of my chest, and bent into the steepness of the hill letting my liliopshosas muscle engage and just cranked up the hill.  Alu alu alu alu.  I was forcing my breathing, pushing out on every second beat and dragging in as much as I could on each odd, my head was down, I wasn't looking up much, I kept to the side of the road where the few trees were trying to grab that bit of reduced heat they offered.   Alu, alu, alu, alu.  I reached down and grabbed a block,  then later a few frogs legs, and then when I hit the lower hairpin at the back of the valley I took advantage of the momentary shade to grab a couple of  S-caps.  I pushed up the next section and before I got the the Long Switch back I dropped half a tab of guarana and another block.  I took a deep suck of water as I hit the turn and bent over and just kept my eyes to the road trying to catch the runner I had spotted ahead of me.

I made the top of the switch and found Eric Alosada off to the side.  He was not in good shape.  We talked and I cautioned him about getting himself caught out on the road in the heat.  He complained about a racing heart rate, and I was just too bushed myself to equate that with heat stroke, which is likely the beginning of which he was suffering.  Eric wanted to go on but his water was minimal, it was minimal if he was full, he had maybe a 40 ounce capacity.  I was sitting with about eighty in my pack at the moment and I needed every drop of it to ensure I got to Rob's.  I told Eric about an emergency water stash I had up top, but cautioned him to be careful and not be heroic.   'Don't get caught out here because there is nobody to come get you right away.  Rob's is a long ways off, man.'   I left Eric there to consider his options,  I knew Don and Bob would be by behind me, and that if it got worse for him there would be somebody to help him out.  I moved on after losing over five minutes.  It was a toss up as the rest in the poor shade of the hau'olekoa was a respite from the constant pace.  I pushed hard up the last two sections and hit the gate in about an hour from the aid station.  My times were hitting just about where I wanted them.  My legs were beginning to hurt a bit and it frustrated me that I could not trim my times more, but I was hitting the mark.

I swung my pack around grabbed a muscle milk reset the pack and moved on.   Alu, alu, alu, alu!  Breath in, out, in Out. alu, alu, alu, alu.  Push on the downs as best I could, stride hard up the hills, push, push, push, push.  Suck some water, alu, alu, alu, alu! grab a block, push, push, push, push.  One valley, second valley, the gate, the third valley. Alu, alu,alu,alu. Then the turn to Endless valley and the vista across to the other side where high up on the ridge I could make out another runner.   Head down, push, push, push, push. gonna Catch that sob. Jog to the side of the road where it was soft.  Bend into the steeps and stride hard.  Push, push, push, push.  Keeping it up, trying not to let my mind wander from the need to maintain pace, to concentrate on the road, to keep the cadence going strong.  I should learn some marine cadence calls, I thought to myself.  'Alu!' cried the helmsman, 'Alu, alu, alu,' he continued, and I leaned into another hill and powered up it.

I was moving along the edge of forever.  It was a pace I could maintain for a long time.  It was pretty much the same pace I had done on Maui when I did the 170 mile circuit.  It was more stressful because it was a race, but the drill had not changed.  It had to be done, and I did it.  My mind wandered of course, but I dragged it back when I realized my pace was suffering.  I pushed on up the road toward the back of the valley and then up the collection of wiggles at the very back.  My mind was dealing with all the minor issues of maintaining such a pace.  I'd feel a hot spot on my heel, watch it a bit, and if it didn't go away as I changed my pace just a bit, I'd look for a berm or rock, and quickly stop and pull up the sock.  Then It was alu, alu,alu, alu.  Move on hard.  I was drenched in sweat, and sucking water at a liberal pace.  I was to the point where I knew I had enough so now I could suck it down a bit to lighten the load.  While others were dehydrating I was pushing down the road making sure I didn't over drink.  Most of the people I would beat in this race  would simply not finish. They would be way out ahead of me and then gone at the next turn. But I was racing myself, and my own time from the previous year which was just about 17:00 I believe.  I was out to beat that time and was feeling pretty confident that I would.   I made it through Endless Valley and pushed on past the Overlooks, the windy forest section, and then the final up toward the Junction and Rob's truck.

The roads were taking their toll on me by this time and my legs were hurtin, the pain radiating into my lower back.  I stayed to the side of the road as much as possible, trying to jog a bit but having very little success as the pain would grow out of proportion to the benifit.  I could fast pace on the edge of it, but any faster movement was just not productive.  I had a pair of  'road shoes' in the car, a pair of Asic Trabuco's with about three layers of padding on the soles, which I had taken with me to Maui as backups. I had never worn them for more than a break-in run, but I started looking forward to putting them on.  My Adidas were good tail shoes but just not built for extended hard packed surfaces.   I pushed on, taking a few more frogs legs, and hoping that I could get to the turn soon.

I hit Rob's and watered up, downed a muscle milk, and pushed on.  The down was difficult.  My legs were aching and it was effecting my stride, the steep down of that upper section of the Humps quickly became very hard on me.  When I hit the switchbacks my pace did not increase.  I have often run down the switches only to find myself really zonked on the up out of  Dillingham.  Last year I had gone a bit slower but was still nailed on the up.  I opted to just take it easy, but it cost me a lot of time.  At the best of times I can make it from the Three-way, where the aid station is, down to the airport in about 45, but I couldn't have done any better than 60 or so on this attempt, and I struggled into the check point at 2:24PM , or 8:24 ET or something like that.  It was still in the green as far as finishing in time, and it meant I would be getting into the bottom of Long Road only a half an hour under the cut off.   That was five hours away, but you have to be running the race far ahead of where you are to make check-points.  You can not just let it happen, you have to be running your times based on where you want to be five or six hours in the future.  If you don't you can find yourself having to run like the devil to make a cut-off, when a lot of fast pacing would have done the trick with four hours of lead time.

The point is that critical point in the Peacock is the turn at Long Road. It lays out there at 8:00PM, 14 hours into the race.  Add three hours to finish, which is the standard times for those sections, and you get a 17:00 hour finish time for an 18 hour limit race.  If you are a slower runner this is a bit of hurdle.  Gordon and Don are telling you they don't want to out there all night.  They are saying 18 is when they plan to close up shop, not when you can finish.  Four hours for the return is what people who are really hurtin must do, but you can not be hurtin too much and reach the bottom of Long Road by 8:00PM.  You need to plan on that 8:00 PM time all race, or you will find yourself sprinting down the steeps of Long Road just to be able to head back out.

So as I sat at my car changing my shoes and gulping down the last of the mornings protien drink, I was already thinking 7:30 at the bottom of Long Road. I had lost 30 minutes over the first loop.  I was in and out of the turn pretty quick as a result.  I was carting 100 oz of water, two muscle milks, and a bottle with an energy drink.  Ernest looked at me and shook his head.  'Man, that's got to weigh over ten pounds.'   and he was right.  But I have run out of water before on that second up and I was not going to do the same this time.  I packed it on, and strode on out.  Push,push, push, PUSH.  Immediately I could tell the pain in my legs was easing. Changing shoes had been a good decsion. To help matters along, and because I felt I was fully hydrated, I dropped a few ibuprofen and popped a goo block. I needed to feel fleet of feet all the way out and back.

I was strong all the way up the switchbacks.  I met a guy, Chris, or Steve, my name recall is limited at best, and he followed me up the hill, keeping me pacing hard. He wasn't running the race but apparently volunteering, or had a friend in it, or something. I was too busy to ask, and he didn't offer a clear explaination.  We hit the road beyond the bench and I pushed hard, trying to tire him out a bit.  But he was young and fresh and he moved ahead of me on the final ups, kind of like just to tell me he could do it. It pissed me off a bit, punk stuff, but he had helped me push hard into the hills and get more from myself than I could have, so I couldn't hold it against him.  We chatted a bit, and he told me his goal was to do the Honolulu Marathon.  'Good!' I said.  He pushed ahead of me on the hill, pissing me off again, and when I caught him I asked him if he was interesting in doing a 'Quad Marathon'.   'What?' was his response. 'This is my first, I havn't planned on any others yet.'   'No' I said, 'We can do all four on the same night. It will be fun.'  'What?' he said.  Yeah we start maybe 20 hours before the race and do three and then do the last one for real, and hey by then you have some time to warm up so its a blaslt. it didn't seem to go over to well....and he didn't even laugh.  He made some comment about how I should go talk to some of those guys that do 100's, which I thought was kind of funny.  Anyway we made it to the turn, I pointed out the way to the aid station, we wished each other a good day,  and I headed down the valley road of Gordon's Loop.  I looked at my watch and I was sitting at ??:41, so it was still good, but I had to boogie. I've made it to the top of the hill in under an hour, and that is my standard, though a bit fast.  I knew I could do Gordon's in under two, so I figured I'd be chipping away at that time a bit. 

I pushed down through Gordon's running the soft spots and jogging the downs when I could, trying to make up time wherever it felt good.  I was hoping to get to Rob's truck in way under two hours from the turn. It was hot in the open, but the tree covered valleys were cool and almost refreshing.  I paced on, hitting the ups;  alu, alu, alu, Loa!' Suck some water. Breath in,out,in,out. Left,right,left, right. Take an S-cap.  Alu, alu, alu, Loa!  Suck some water, and move, move move, move!  Hit a hill, loosen the straps, get to the top tighten them down.  Move Mike! move, move. Something in my shoe. move on, move on!  Still there. Go,go, go go. Don't stop, Not now.  Heal hot spot now.  Fix it, fix it.Look for a berm, maybe a tree, alu, alu, alu, alu loa!  There.  Here. Take off shoe.  Arggghhh!! Cramp from toe to head! Pain. Straighten leg, slow, slow.  Empty shoe, bend down, hurry man, pain, tie shoe, ok! Go,limping, go GO! Keep going it will go away soon enough.  Suck water, move, move.

I was pushing hard and as I reached the single track out on the ridge I began to bonk a bit and stopped to suck down a muscle milk and a couple of goo blocks.  It seemed to do the trick. I moved on trying not to lose concentration, trying to make every step count, but still in awe of the beauty of the late afternoon up on the ridge, the incredible lonliness, the union with the past that such a place provides, but I didn't have time to do more than briefly acknowledge it, to accept it, and then I had to push harder, had to move on. Then the final hill, push up, push up.  The Last 100 yards..and there is Rob with his camera..Argggahhh. "What's that all about he says.  All about?  Argggahh is my only response.  I was in under my time frame, but still more than a half hour back.  That half an hour that I had sold in the early stages of the run would just not go away.  I was looking at 17:00 easy and it was hard to see how I could do better. 

I did sixty ounces of water at Robs, as the day was getting long and it was cooling a bit.  It was before 5:30 but it would be dark out on Long  Road by the time I got there.  Rob and I talked a bit, he told me of the terrific DNF rate, I grabbed some nuts, downed a few cups of water.  Thanked him, and I was gone down the Crossover.  Push mike push push.   I turned a corner and the race leader, xxxx, was there running down the road.  Lets see.....four hours ahead of me.   A few minutes later it was Scott, then just behind him.  Julie seemed to be the strongest of the three.  I moved on. It was fifteen minutes before I ran into Jeff.  He was dragging a bit, but still looked strong, despite his claims of  'just wanting to finish'.  

It was the same routine as the first loop.  I was into the endless valley and pushed on, not trying to figure out how far I'd come, just knowing the turns as they came, knowing what lay ahead and moving on, head down, push push push.  It was getting dark and the western sky was full of pinks and purple hues, the ocean was a sea of mercury.  The birds were celibrating the day in one last song fest.  I pushed on, once again happy to be where I was, happy to be pushing myself to the limit, and thankful the day, all the while regulating my pace, my intakes, adjusting my stride to account for hot spots or vague pain, coaching myself on the need to concentrate.   Over twelve hours in, and just over four more to go.  My calculation for Long Road was still 17:30 which it had been for the last four hours.  I wouldn't have to run Long Road to make the cut-off as I did the year before.   I could push down the hill keeping my energy conserved for the climb back out.  Alu, Alu Go Mike go go go GO!

I pushed down Long Road occasionally passing others on their way back up.  People who had made it this far were going to finish, so there was a bit of relief in the greetings.   Those who don't know me occasionally expxessed concern, 'You going to make it?' was their reply.   'I'm fine, I have time.' was my repley.  I was a mile out of  the aid station when I passed Jan, near the Green Gate when I met Cheryl and Marian.  I had some heavy pushsing to do if I was going to catch anyone.    I arrived in the station walking backwards, just to play havoc with the flashlite beams that were searching down the road.   It was a short stop, but an easy one, as I knew I had time.  Like I noted, if you can make it to the bottom of Long Road under the cut-off you have a lot of time to finish.  You can actually bonk on the up of Long Road, and still have time to pull yourself together and do the last sections at a reasonable speed and finish under the 18 hour limit.  How this will play out with a 100K is anybodies guess.

I strode out of the Long Road aid station the clock reading 20:43 knowing I had to push hard to even get close to the others.  Beyond the Green Gate I could just see lights flickering high up on the hill, at the last lookout before the road took the final right toward the gate. Some one with a headlamp was looking back down into the valley before heading off toward the Cross-Over.  The rest of the valley was bathed in the silvery noonlite glow flowing into the near darkness as clouds passed blocked the light.  A successful march up Long Road was critical, and I knew I could not faulter.  I simply put my head down and pushed every step. 

Going up Long Road is a special agony that one must endure to truely appreciate.  I have devoted entire pieces to making the asscent.  I was thankful that it was not in the heat of the day, though being alone, at night and definitely last in the race had its own special hardships.  But I knew that even if the others were far ahead of me that every minute I pushed up the hill was one minute I was going faster than they were.  The hill was my opportunity to make great gains,  even if I never saw another person out there.  The hill was where I could catch them, even if I would not see them for hours.   I welcomed each steep, each hard breath, each gasp, and momentary failure of will as proof of my continued gain.  I needed to make the top just at the edge of my endurance.  I needed to get to the top gate feeling as if I could not climb another step.  At the same time I knew I needed to move beyond the gate and feel like climbing once again after the rest I would get from the quick down just after the gate.   It was proof of my training that I made it to the top gate in just about an hour.  Fourty miles in and I was still feeling solid.  I reached the gate and sucked down another muscle milk, washed it down with a few swigs of cold water and pushed on. 

The cross-over was a solid hard march.  It is up hill in the 'back' direction and always seems longer.  I have given the sections rough  names as I find it helps me if I know where I am.  So it was the  three little valleys, the gate, the Endless or Long valley with its early fakes, its back valley wiggles and ups, and then the long upper trail that leads makai, and finally out of the valley.  Then there is a section I call the overlooks where the road wanders right up to the top of the ridgeline and one can see into the Waianae side,  the last of these is preceeded by a long tree covered section.  Finally there are some twists and turns, steep hills, and the final push to the three way.   When I'm fresh I can fast pace it in  just about an hour.  I came in just under that.  I was dazed.  I felt my pack and decided I didn't need any more water.  I took a few drinks and talked with Rob briefly.  The back of the truck was strung in christmas tree lights. It was quite festive, but I was to tired to even remark on it.

 'How far ahead are they?' I asked.

'Jan is about ten minutes, the others are maybe nine minutes.'

I thanked Rob and headed out.  Niether he nor I believed I could catch anyone.  But as I left the truck I knew I had to try.  It is down hill most of the way,  and I ran it.  Straight out run, or when it was quite steep, which is often, I hunched my ass down and did a Groucho Marks styled crab walk.  I slowed only occasionally to catch my breath.  I knew I was making good time, but ten minutes is a long ways off. 

I hit the picnic bench at the edge of the Kealia switch backs, took a quick break, sucked some water and started to push as fast as I could down the switchbacks.  They were not as steep in most places, but they are very dangerous and rocky.  One misstep and you can be seriously hurt. I took every chance I thought I could take, slowed at the worst places and just keep pushing, feeling the tenderness in my knees, trying to guage whether the pain was injury or fatigue and moved on.   I had just about given up on catching anyone when suddenly I rounded a switchback on a bit of ridge and could see down the mountainside.  And there perhaps four switches below me, I could see a light.  I let go and flew.  The light became two lights, then two sets of lights, and I pushed on.  Finally there were people ahead of me on the same switch, and then I was up on them, and going by, and flying on.    Then I saw the next set of lights and was up on them, it was Marian and Cheryl.  I said hello, danced down some rocks just about ready to lose it, and moved on.   Perhaps I slowed a bit, but I was running now and it didn't matter. 

I hit the bottom, was through the gate and running hard all the way to the chains.  I came into the aid station my watch reading 10:31.   Officially 16:30. Eighteenth.  The others finished seven to ten minutes behind me.  It was a Peacock PR and a negative split to boot. 

I finished it up pretty well physically.  My knees were sore for a day or two, I may have lost a few nails from running the steep downs.  I was worn down and it took days to recover.  But I made the race without a serious bonk.  With the exception of going a bit too slow at the start and wearing the wrong shoes on the first lap it was a flawless race. I could not have asked for much better.  The fast start did in almost 50 percent of the field as the heat of the day just fried them out on Long Road.  It took some longer to fail but it was the too fast start and Long Road that did them in.  The girls did much better than the guys and something like 80 percent of them managed a finish, with women taking second, third, and a lot of other top ten places.