California

In choosing a race for California I wanted to find something that I couldn't find anywhere else in the United States in December...warm weather with a racecourse that included views of coastal mountains and ocean vistas. I signed up for the Ray Miller 50K seven months ahead of time knowing that this race sells out every year. The trail is named after Ray Miller, who was the first official California State Park camp host, also known as the "guardian of the canyon".  There was no way I would miss it.  

Initially my plan was to drive to Malibu in my camper, to enjoy the scenic drive down from Oregon over a couple of days. However my schedule was too packed so I flew, rented a car, and brought my tent instead. Luckily I was able to snag a spot at the Sycamore campground about two miles from Ray Miller trailhead. This gave me time to settle in and prepare for the next morning. 

After sleeping well, I felt ready to run, although somewhat undertrained after taking time off to rehab an injury over the summer. I had only been running about 30 miles a week and my longest run up until had been only 10 miles. Regardless, I was very excited to have a day in warm sunlight!  And I also wanted to see how it would feel to run a 50k with the minimal amount of training, ha!

The race is put on by race director Keira Henninger, (KHraces.com) who has quite a presence as a Race Director in Southern California. Her husband, Jesse Haynes, (seen in the picture with us at the aid station) won the Moab 240 last year but you wouldn't know it by how down to earth he is. It appeals to me to find races put on by local people. They often design courses that are reflective of their favorite trails. This course ended up being spectacular. Not only did I see the sun rise as I started, but I also saw the sun set as I finished.  It ended up being a very long race. About 2-3 hours longer than I had planned.

At about mile 22 I came upon a runner who was sitting in the trail, clearly not doing well.  We were hiking on a hot and dusty single track, with the midday sun bearing down at 78 degrees. I had just passed another runner who was also stopped, dizzy, but standing, so he was not in as bad of shape but was also overheated. And I was feeling the heat and had slowed to try to bring down my heart rate but was still moving. I figured I would make up the time on the next downhill. However, once I saw the runner needing help, I also secretly welcomed the excuse to stop a bit and see what I could do. I knew she had heat exhaustion and needed to get into the shade, so another runner and I moved her to a tiny, shaded spot. Several runners also stopped and offered water, electrolytes and their concerns. We were all concerned. But the reality was that we were 5 miles from the next aid station and this runner was unable to walk, had muscle spasms and was almost vomiting. I sat with her for a few minutes while others poured water on her head, and we talked about "telling the aid station" fantasizing about a rescue, like snapping our fingers and “poof!” done. But then it occurred to me that there was no way, a rescue would take forever, she would have to try to walk. She did not want to be alone, nor was she in any shape to be left. I had to think for a minute.  I realized that I had already made all the race cut-offs, and that with the generous race allotment (14 hours), I was pretty much guaranteed to finish even if I crawled to the end. I realized that my race time really wasn't that important, as the whole point of doing the race was to experience California, meet other great people, and enjoy some beautiful scenery, and ultimately this race would still count for my project.  I offered to stay with her so the other runners could keep going. 

Eventually she started moving very slowly up the canyon and with lots of slow steps, a few stops, and another cool-down rest in the shade, we eventually made it five miles to the next aid station where we were welcomed by relieved staff who had been worried about the runner everyone was telling them about, and had sent someone with ice and water to head us off as we approached. We enjoyed some Coke, joked around, celebrated the aid station, and hung out for a bit. By that time of day it was cooler, and she felt that she wanted to try to finish the race but the staff wasn't so sure it was a good idea.  I offered to stick with her, knowing we'd already made it through the worst part, I was confident she'd finish.  They agreed to let her go. We had one more hill (it was in the shade!) and then the 3 mile downhill which we ran to the finish.  If I could choose any time of day to run it would be sunset, the golden hour, and we were treated to a beautiful one. 

The race was very well organized with the best aid station food I've ever had.  They even included my absolute favorite running food--baked potatoes sauteed in oil and salt! I usually make that for myself on long adventures, so that was a treat. I also enjoyed the start when one of the runners played the Star Spangled Banner on the trumpet, as we overlooked the sun coming up in the ocean. I felt that was a special touch. And the food at the finish line was also great for dinner.  Although… I admit… I've never felt so good at the end of a race :-) 

Put the Ray Miller 50K on your list. You won't regret it!