Return to the Rainbow Trail

There is something about the Rainbow Trail that just draws me in. In 2018, it was a spur of the moment 50k that found me running under a canopy of gold, among a community of runners that really spurred my rebirth as a runner. In 2019, it was (almost) the culmination of a dream year with all the highs and lows that come with a 100 mile race. This year? Maybe a titch of redemption with a lot of learning involved. Redemption from Silverheels - saying that I could go out and run 60 miles hard and feel good afterwards. Learning is always a given at these events - from all aspects, mental, physical and preparation wise. 

There is also something about Music Meadows that calls the wind. All three years it's been windy. This year, the wind kicked up about 1:00, gusting around the parked cars. Guess that good night of sleep before the race was not going to happen! It was a restless night, listening to the wind and wondering if I was really ready for the upcoming miles. Soon enough, it was time to start getting organized to run. With my experience from the 100m last year, I knew that it would be chilly at the start, getting slightly colder as we climbing. I'd originally though about wearing my short sleeved shirt, but given the fact that it was hunting season opted for the brighter pink. Might as well be noticeable! I also decided to wear my good wind coat this time and just plan on leaving it on for a few miles after Music Meadows. A few gulps of coffee and some oatmeal later and it was time to run. I was in the last wave of the 100s at 4:10 so got to watch everyone else heading into the darkness. Inspiring and nerve-racking all at once.

The road up to Music Pass felt easier this year. I let go of staying steady and pacing and just went for it. Running hard and then power hiking. From last year, I knew the road and didn't need to search for marking, Just go up until you can't go up anymore, then get on the singletrack and start going up again! With the wave starts, there was a constant stream of of headlamps on the road, blinking in the darkness. And it was dark, no moon and clear skies. So amazingly dark that when I reached the meadow at the start of the Music Pass singletrack, I had to stop for a minute and turn my headlamp off. The stars were so plentiful and so bright. While I have yet to see sunrise from Music Pass, the stars are always worth the cold. After hole-punching my bib at the stop, it was time to head down. Last year, I'd been a little conservative - not wanting to blowup my quads in the first eight miles. This year? I didn't go crazy, but I also didn't hold anything back! It was actually pretty fun to float down the hill and relax into the descent. 

A quick stop at the van for my vest and some food, then it was off onto the Rainbow Trail. Everything seemed so familiar from last year. Almost the same start time, the darkness of the climb, then faint hints of sun on the horizon as I made the turn. Because of the waves, I didn't really know where I was in the race, but that wasn't really the point. I did catch one of the ladies in the 100k who'd started at 4:00. We chatted for a bit, then she took off again. We would yo-yo for a while. She would bolt away on the flatter sections of trail and the downhills, I would slowly close the gap on the climbs and more technical running. I did want to run a little harder, but also remembered last year. I'd run the first out and back on the Rainbow Trail much too fast just because I was in good company. Not this year. I'd decided that I would stay in my own world until Venable. If I felt good then, I would start thinking about racing. But until then... Just run.

Dropping down into Colony Creek, the sun peaking into the mountain valley

The sun started coming up mid-way through the stretch out the Colony Creek. Faint colors on the horizon then spilling over into blues and purples. It's the expansiveness of the sunrise on the Rainbow Trail that makes it amazing. You are just high enough above the valley with no huge mountain to the east. My fourth sunrise on the Rainbow Trail and each one has been spectacular in a subtle way. Even with the sun, it was still chilly. I was comfortable with my wind jacket on still, so decided I might as well wait until the aid station to take it off. No sense in being cold! It was still windy, a chilly wind teasing the small traces of sun warmth from the air.  Yeah. I'd leave the jacket on. As well as my headband. For some reason, I don't much like being cold. And when I have the gear to stay warm, I might as well!

The sun was fully up as I left Colony Creek. I stuffed my coat in my vest, hoping the next few long climbs would warm me up a little. I felt stiffer then I wanted for so early in the race - with my legs just not responding like I wanted. Oh well, maybe they would come around after some power hiking. Of which, there was plenty. I was being very careful with running and the rocky trail after twisting my ankle the Monday before the race. No need to take chances and add another DNF to the list from making things worse. It meant a lot of things I was able to run easily last year I was going rather slowly through. After all - there's no shortage of ankle biting rocks on the Rainbow Trail! Even with my power hiking and taking it easier then I wanted, I was actually still within sight of the leading woman. Until we hit the three mile descent into Horn Creek... She took off at the top of the ridge line, pressing a pace I didn't want to match. Oh well - if I caught her back, I caught her back. 

Horn Creek was quiet when I dropped down the rocky connector trail - just the 100 runners this early in the morning. I located my drop bag and tried to be as efficient as possible with refilling my bladder and getting some snacks. I got water and ginger ale to go in my soft flasks, then some bacon and a queasily to eat on the climb back to the Rainbow trail. Since my mom was volunteering there, I also broke the rules a little and got a hug! Time to head out to Venable. Again, I was wanting to run a little faster then what my legs and ankle would tolerate. I'd caught back up the leading woman and we were running together with one of the 100 mile athletes. The pace should have been easy. It was the same pace I had been running last year. But it wasn't - I just wasn't as comfortable as I wanted to be. It was a nice section of trail though, with some good conversation. And again, on the downhill to Venable, I was dropped. My confidence for trying to run down the rocky track wasn't there at all. We were doing a strong yo-yo again. I'd make up ground on the climbs, she would take off on the descents. Only this time, I wasn't making up the ground like before...

Time to get into my head and stop worrying about what everyone else was doing. That was hard this time and I couldn't figure out why. Too many minds. Too much internal pressure about what I should be doing and how fast I should be running at that point. It was a little frustrating. I think it was because of the history with the trail. After all, how many time had I taken that descent into Horn Creek? Why was I struggling so much this final time down? I really didn't know, but I couldn't shake it. Even when I got to to Horn Creek - this time a bustling hub of activity. The volunteers were all busy, so I had to wait a few minutes for water. No worries - such is racing in the time of COVID. The aid stations aren't a free-for-all anymore. I actually like some of the new rules at the aid stations, even if it does mean a little more time spent. 

My trail experience didn't seem to help much on the traverse back to Colony Creek. I kept forgetting how many little climbs and descents there were after long climb up from Horn Creek. Each time - oh, we must be there. Nope - false alarm! If it hadn't been so annoying, it would have been funny. The 15 miles between Horn Creek and Music Meadows has been my Achilles heel every year I've been on the Rainbow Trail. Even the first year, I just struggled on that sections - especially the stretch between Colony and  Music Meadows. You can see Music Meadows for miles along the rainbow trail. So close, yet so far... I know I was loosing huge chunks of time to the leading woman, and I had a feeling I was also being gained on. I had to focus on just staying moving, running and power hiking and not let the feeling that I was failing because I wasn't running get into my head. Forward momentum is still forward momentum. And I was catching some of the other runners on the trail, so no matter how cranky I was getting at myself, I was still moving well. 

Single track climb up to Music Pass

As always, Nick was ready for me at Music Meadows. He was once again going to pace me up the final ascent of Music Pass. I wasn't quite in a good mind when I came in, wanting to change up a few things on the plan. As such, we were both distracted and not paying attention to any other runners. I completely missed the woman who'd been closing quickly in the last six miles get her pacer and head back out.  As such, we heading out thinking I was second on the trail. I knew I wasn't going to catch the leading woman anymore, but was still focused on getting in under the current course record. That was been my goal all along - but I would  need to hustle to the best of my ability on the climb up and descent off Music Pass. Nick definitely pushed me hard on the climb. I was running and power hiking at a good pace until we hit the single track. I just wanted to keep moving though - the wind was cold and the sooner I got to the top, the sooner we'd be able to get into the trees. It was on the steeper section of the single track that I discovered I'd dropped into third as the other woman and her pacer passed us going down. I allowed myself to get frustrated and then pissed that I'd missed her. It took a bit to get back into a good mental spot, and I'm not sure I really did. 

Turn Around - always trying to keep a smile on my face!

Even with the less then stellar prep - including smoky training runs and stress of moving, I still had great time in the race. I met my goal of running under 14 hours, as well as having a solid second climb up Music Pass. Every ultra is a learning experiencing, including the ones that go well. There's always going to be down moments in any race. How you react is the key to a successful run. That's something I'm still learning.

Final sunrise on a great weekend