The Age of Aquarius, or the Capitol Reef 50 mile

Prologue

Capitol Reef is a national park located in central Utah.  The race was not run in the park, but rather on the Aquarius Plateau/Boulder Mountain.  This plateau is west of the park and the views from the rim allow you to see down into the park some 7,000’ below.  Capitol Reef is a bit more recognizable than Aquarius Plateau.

There are worse race HQ's

The Aquarius Plateau is the highest plateau in the country, with much of it being above 11,000’.  We would be running along the Great Western Trail for much of the race, as well as some ATV roads.

Not sure where to start with this report.  A lot has already been written and talked about regarding this race, so anything I add will be largely a repeat of what others have said.  Here's a short video I found.

This was a tough race for reasons that one normally doesn’t associate with a tough race.  There weren’t huge steep climbs, no quad crushing descents, at least not long ones.  Much of the course was essentially flat.  What made this course difficult were two factors, the terrain and the altitude.  Try “running” for 20 miles at, or above, 10,000’.  Spend 18 of those miles above 10,500’.  Now factor in some other items.  All of the rocks that we dealt with, route finding, overgrown brush, widely spaced trail markings made for a slower than anticipated run.  Most of the time, my “running” wasn’t much more than to shuffle a bit faster than a walk.  Keep in mind that all of these difficulties are pluses in my book.  I may not think so at the time, but they really are.

I had originally signed up for the 100 mile distance, but the week before the race rethought that idea.  I figured that if I ran the 100 mile, it would take at least three weeks to recover and get back into some serious training for Wasatch.  Since Wasatch is my key race for the year, I didn’t want to lose those three weeks.  A 50 mile race would mean that I could take a few days off and go easy before hitting the training hard again.  Looking back, it was a wise decision.  Keeping my eye on the prize.

I knew that this race would be hard.  I tend to not do too well at high altitude.  I don’t get altitude sickness or anything like that, I just slow down a lot and occasionally get some slight exercise induced asthma going.  I also knew that if I could do reasonably well here, that running at altitude during Wasatch wouldn’t be an issue at all.

Race Time

The race started about 30 minutes late due to a slow bus ride to the start.  Gorgeous morning, temps in the upper 40’s, some clouds, but generally sunshine.  We started climbing right out of the gate, but for the most part, the initial miles to the first aid station were runnable, even uphill. 

The initial miles

The course was amazing from the start.  We would be running through trees, then all of the sudden be running in a huge green meadow.  I loved it.  Huge aspens, fir, pine.

The first aid station was at around 8.5 miles.  By then we had climbed roughly 1500’, not too bad over 8+ miles.  However, shortly after leaving that aid station we had the one monster climb of the race.  A “road” had been cut into the side of the plateau.  We gained 1000’ in a mile.  Not huge, but enough to make you wish it was done as soon as possible.  I found out later that this is a “road” used to drive cattle up and down the plateau for grazing.

Cattle "road", yep that's me.  Photo: Dee McLaughlin

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Once up on the plateau we followed along the east rim for the next 10 miles.  In a word, the views were stunning.  We could see into the national park some 20 miles away and 6000’ lower.  We could see the Henry Mountains.  One of the most remote mountain ranges in the country (at least the lower 48).  This was “big” empty country.

Pretty high up for a long time

The second aid station was at 16.5 miles.  This aid station was in the middle of nowhere.  Smack in the middle of a meadow at 11,000’.  It took them two hours to get there from the start.  After the second aid, we kept along the rim for a bit more, then headed for the interior of the plateau.  This meant a bit of climbing.  Not much, but going from 10,800’ to 11,100’ can be significant.  Lots of high alpine meadows, small lakes, streams.  Who knew something like this was in southern Utah?

The third aid station came around at about 21 miles and some familiar faces were present.  Kelly and Jo Agnew were running the show there.  It was nice to chat for a few minutes with them then head on out and across yet another meadow.

Aid #2 in the middle of nowhere

The next aid station came at about 31 miles.  This was the longest section between aid.  By this time we had dropped down to 10,000’, running down through a canyon off the side of the plateau.  What a difference 1000’ can make.  Coming down the canyon the trail became more technical.  This was to be the story for the next 15 miles or so.  Lots of rocks on the trail interspersed with small sections of ATV road.

Miles 31 to 37 were reasonably nice trail.  Still very rocky, but easy to follow, well traveled.  The last bit into Donkey reservoir was on some dirt road.  After all of the technical trail, it was kind of nice to hit some easy running.

The section from Donkey to Government Creek took runners through a section of forest that had seen a forest fire.  Not the most scenic section, but interesting.  With the forest canopy now non-existent, the underbrush went wild.  This section was way overgrown.  At times you really had to push through the undergrowth and could barely see the trail.  Made for some slow going through here.  Oh, and the mosquitos were horrendous.  I was so glad that I had put bug spray in my drop bags, and used it.

The Government Creek aid was the last aid before the finish.  Only six miles to go.  It was in this section that I caught up to a couple of the last 50K runners.  When I finally got to Government Creek, I knew that we had significant downhill the last six miles.  I didn’t know that the remaining miles were all on dirt road or ATV trail.  Nice if you have any legs left to open it up.

It was interesting running those last six miles, descending through various climate and geologic zones, starting out in an alpine setting and volcanic rock and within a few miles dropping into a red rock/desert sandstone landscape.

At long last, I came to the highway, crossed it and ran the last couple hundred yards to the finish.  I was pretty glad to be done, it had been a very long hard day.

Aftermath

So, after 13 hours and 40 minutes, I finished.  I met Christian Johnson at the finish and asked if he had another one of those beers he was holding.  As he went off to get one, Jo Agnew came up and handed me a PBR.  Yep, two fisted it and they tasted really good.

So what did I think of this first year event?  I really enjoyed it.  It was much more difficult than I had imagined.  It was also way more scenic than I had thought it would be.  The scenery at this race ranks right up there with Matt’s Bryce race.  I took about 60 pictures and could have taken many more.  We ran past numerous lakes, crossed a bunch of creeks, saw some cool waterfalls.  I was surprised at how much water was up there.

Waterfall off the rim in the distance

The race was different in many ways from other races I have run.  First, much of this race was on a section of the Great Western Trail.  Given the condition of the trail, my guess is that that trail saw more use Saturday than it typically does in a couple of years.  Much of the time the trail was not a well defined path.  Rather, we had to look for the ribbons that were put out, rock cairns, and tree blazes.  I found myself always looking ahead for the next blaze/cairn/ribbon.  There were a few times when I had to stop and scan left and right as well as ahead in order to locate the next marker.  I never got off trail, but there were a few that did.  You definitely had to be aware of your surroundings.  That’s one of the things I liked about the race, having to really pay attention to where you’re going.

Any personal revelations from this race?  I didn’t “find” myself out there because I was never “lost”.  Nope, it was just another good time beating myself up for 50 miles.  Mentally I was good all day, never really had any down spots.  The short little climbs towards the end of the race got kind of old after a while, but you just do them knowing they won’t last long.

One of the other things I really liked about this race is the small entry field.  With the exception of the couple of 50K runners on the trail and the last two aid stations, I ran over 20 miles by myself, no other person was even close.  No one caught up to me, I didn’t catch up to anyone.  I like that.  I like to run with people during training, but on race day I typically like to run by myself.  Running with someone during a race means that either they are running your pace or you are running theirs.  I want to run my own race. 

Were there any downsides to this race?  Only one that I could think of, and it was minor.  The course marking could have been better.  I never had any problem following, but getting off trail and lost on that plateau could be serious.

So, would I go run this race again?  Yep, I’m already thinking about next year.  I want to see if I can drop my time significantly.  Would I recommend this race?  Absolutely, Matt does a great job with any event he puts on and this one was no different.  Go sign up and run it next year.

Restaurant review

Well, this really isn’t a restaurant review, but Matt had a “build your own” pizza bar at the finish.  It was pretty good, plenty of fixings from cheese to pepperoni to mushrooms to various veggies.  Good stuff.

More Pretty Pictures

The obligatory selfie 

The next aid station is down by that lake

Into Less Dense Air, the Ben Lomond/Willard Peak Expedition of 2015

If you have never climbed the face to the summit of Ben Lomond Peak in Weber County, Utah, be prepared for a unique experience.

Prologue –

Our extensive planning for this expedition began last Tuesday when Misty threw out the invite to summit Ben Lomond and Willard peaks the hard way, up the front face. 

Our planned route

There wasn’t any snow remaining, the weather looked to be perfect, why not.

So plans were made, gear assembled, support crew fully staffed, and five of us made the climb on that fateful day last Saturday.  Misty Alessandri, our fearless leader, Curtis Thompson, our resident drug dealer, Corey Vigil, our Postal Service representative, Forrest Stuart, master roofer, and myself, just a hanger on and wanna be expedition member.

We knew that this climb would be arduous, difficult, breathtaking in more ways than one, and a hell of a lot of fun.  Nonetheless, we felt we were up to the task that lay before us.

Our route was carefully planned through many many years of route finding, looking up the mountainside, and just generally saying to each other “let’s go that way”.

We gathered on that fateful Saturday morning at the North Ogden Gravel Pit trailhead.  An inauspicious start to be sure, but it was convenient for everyone and close to town.  Looking over our gear, I could tell that we were definitely ready to go.  Everyone had their hydration packs, an assortment of gels and other foodstuffs (I use that term loosely), appropriate clothing (for the most part), and a sense of comradery that made us more confident and sure of ourselves than we had a right to be.

We had meticulously calculated that this trek would take us about 6 hours, 37 minutes given our level of fitness, the distance, and the prevailing winds.

The Journey –

We began our epic adventure (a way overused term) promptly at 6am or so.  Leaving the trailhead just as dawn was breaking.  We trotted and hiked easily towards the North Ogden Divide Road, then beyond that along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, knowing that we would be able to establish our base camp in less than an hour.

We arrived at our base camp location and stopped to decide which way would be the best to go as we headed up Thompson Canyon. 

Near Base Camp

We could hear the snowmelt rushing down the canyon and a few of us wondered if we would be able to make the climb up through the rushing water (I just made that last part up, but it sounds good).

As we left base camp and trekked towards Camp #1, we bantered back and forth, traded ribald comments, and generally were in good spirits. 

Starting up Thompson Canyon photo: Misty Alessandri

Little did we know that by later that morning, we would be rethinking our decision to make this trek.  We climbed on and made it to Stuart Spring in good time.  We stopped for a drink of the clear, cold water, ate some breakfast (or lunch, I don’t remember), and carried on towards Camp #1.

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We made Camp #1 about one hour into our expedition, and since we felt no need to actually camp (plus having no actual camping gear with us), we carried on, and began the dangerous climb up Alessandri Rockfall.  We knew this portion of the climb would probably be the most dangerous.  Nothing but a huge, very loose scree field made up of big rocks, big, very loose rocks, and a 45 degree slope.  We spread out across the face as best we could so that if someone did kick some rocks loose, those below stood a better chance of avoiding being crushed, buried, or otherwise damaged.

Heading up Alessandri Rockfall

Nearing the top of the rockfall

During this climb, we did set off a couple of rock avalanches that, had someone been below, would have resulted in someone getting a scrape or two. 

Eventually we made it through Alessandri Rockfall and to our Camp #2 location. 

Camp 2 location

Once again, since we had no camping gear, and it only took a couple of hours, we pressed on up Vigil Ridge.  Vigil Ridge isn’t particularly difficult except that it’s about a 30 degree slope at 8500’. 
Although we all knew that we would be trekking to high elevations, none of us thought to take along supplemental oxygen.  Stupid us.  We were all feeling the effects of oxygen deprivation when we noticed a huge storm bearing down on us.  There was very little in the way of shelter along this ridge, but we did manage to take cover while we were graupeled (look it up) on for the next five minutes or so.  Once the vicious storm had passed, we again headed upward.  Our next milestone being the Farka Step.

Hunkering down waiting out the vicious storm.  Note the snow on Misty's hat 

The Farka Step involves a rock scramble of about 20’-30’ that can’t be avoided.  If one were to fall off this step, they would be looking at a fall of 30’ or so, enough to kill you, or at least make you hurt a bit.  Now I’m a chickenshit when it comes to stuff like this, so I was a bit worried about going up this, but I figured if everyone else can do it, so can I.  Somehow I managed to make it up and over and lived to tell the tale.  After going over the Farka Step, it was a short little hike to the summit.  We had made our first objective of the day, and it had only taken us three hours (plus or minus).

Once we made the summit of Ben Lomond, our first comments were “holy crap, there’s a lot of snow up here”. 

Yours truly on the summit

Looking along the ridge over to Willard Peak, most of the trail was covered in snow, but the trail over by the peak itself was clear.  So after the requisite pictures proving we made the summit, off we went, along the ridgeline towards Willard Peak.  This was a bit of slow going, and we had all sorts of snow to cross (let the postholing begin), but we did get over to the clear trail and even managed to trot a bit in the process.  As we rounded a corner along a particularly steep slope, we saw a huge snow drift blocking our path.  Knowing that if we traversed and someone slipped, they would slide to their doom (to the tune of several hundred feet) we elected to climb up and around that snow field.  Needless to say, this added a bit of time, what with climbing up, then boulder hopping, then back down to the trail.  It was at this point that we collectively decided that Willard peak wasn’t getting bagged today.  Indeed, we were looking at a substantial increase in our time.

Willard Peak in the distance.  Ridge running time.

We headed along the trail on the west face of Willard towards Inspiration Point.  Once we made the saddle between Willard and Inspiration, we looked out over Willard Basin and Curtis was the first to say “we’re screwed”.  We weren’t really screwed, but our original plans went flying out the window.  Nothing but snow, lots and lots of snow.  Now during the summer, we would just go downhill towards a small lake, catch the Mantua Road, and continue on our way.  Going down that slope in these conditions was out of the question.  Steep slope of snow, probably 10’ feet deep, potential postholing, potential of getting hurt.  Yep, not going that way.  So on towards Inspiration Point we went.  Our thinking was that at Inspiration Point we might be able to at least follow the road, buried though it was.  Plus, following the road made for a less steep descent. 

Looking at Willard Peak from Willard Basin

At this point, we had covered less than half of the distance we needed to cover, we had spent double the time that we had planned covering it.  The outlook was looking bleaker and bleaker with every passing minute. 

Trekking across Willard Basin

Oh wait, no it wasn't really, just a lot more work and time than we had planned on.

We began our descent into Willard Basin using a combination of the road, and just going straight downhill.  At times the postholing was hip deep.  Corey postholed to his hip once and got his foot stuck.  He had to dig down to his shoe to free his leg from a certain snowy doom.  We did think about just leaving him to his fate, but opted not to.

Meanwhile, we were scanning for the best, easiest, and quickest way across the basin to the road.  We considered three options.  One, just going down to the stream at the bottom of the canyon and following it out.  Two, following the road as it traversed around the south side of the basin.  Three, going straight down into the canyon, crossing the stream and straight up the other side to the road.  We tossed option one since we didn't know if we would cliff out at some point.  That would not be good.  I argued for option two, since it involved less climbing, just a long traverse on snow.  This option was vetoed as well.  Option three was a straight down descent to the creek, through snow, crossing the creek, and ascending 700’ up the other side.  Very steep on both sides, but the far side was snow free and that appealed to us.  So down through the thickets, thorns, and snow we went.  On the other side of the creek, a steep ascent to the road.  At least this part wasn’t snowy and didn’t have as much vegetation.

Finally, at about 12:30-1:00pm we made the Mantua Road.  Although snow covered in places, we were able to make reasonably good time in the places that were snow free.  We were thinking that we might need to take that road all the way to Mantua, but once we made the trail turnoff, we knew we were home free.  At last, snow free single track. 

Sweet single track

Now we had nine miles of blissful, downhill single track.  At last, we were able to actually run.  Needless to say, the rest of the run was pretty uneventful, down we went, through the trees, descending the switchbacks, enjoying the scenery, the beautiful day.

Postlogue –

We finally made it to the gravel pit in Perry at about 3:30pm.  It took us fully 9.5 hours to cover just over 20 miles.  Yep, we didn’t set any speed records on this “run”.  We were all beat, tired, thirsty, hungry.  Forrest’s wife Pam met us with a cooler full of beer, chocolate milk, Gatorade, and also brought two Papa John’s pizzas.  Yeah, we devoured those pretty quick.

Words of Wisdom –

Sounds like a great adventure doesn't it?  And it was.  We had fun, we saw places that very few people see at that time of year.  We got to experience something other than the standard trail run.  However, things could have gone horribly wrong in a heartbeat, necessitating the need for rescue, perhaps a long cold night out, severe injury, or worse.  What kept us from that and made our journey safer?  Several things.  First, we are all in very good shape to be able to just travel that distance.  Second, we are all experienced at moving quickly through the backcountry, regardless if there’s a trail or not.  Third, we were all familiar with that area of the mountains.  All of us had been up in that area numerous times.  Fourth, we made good, smart, collective decisions on which way to go.

Here's the Strava - https://app.strava.com/activities/297621045

Some bonus pics

Life's twists and turns

Tomorrow I start a new job.  Yeah, I know that I told everyone that I was going out on my own with full time race directing, but sometimes life throws other options in your path that are too enticing to pass up.
Since January, I've been lining up races, either looking to buy or starting new ones.  Things have been going pretty well in that department.  In June I will be taking over the RD duties for the Logan Peak Trail Run.  Starting next week, I have a weekly trail series starting here in Ogden, the Ogden Citizen Trail Series.  The Antelope Island Buffalo Run saw its biggest turnout ever with 854 signed up and about 770 showing up to race.  I now have a new website to better integrate the various events I'm doing now.  I'm still working on a 25K/50K race on the Good Water Rim Trail, although that's going to be delayed for a few more months.  I'm also looking at a couple of other races.
So, overall, things were looking pretty good.  I just might be able to make my house payment occasionally.
My last day at my contract job was Feb. 27.  I met with my boss, I told him of my plans, he wished me well and mentioned that he was a bit jealous.
The first week of unemployment, or self employment, found me working about 50 hours trying to get things lined up for the Buffalo Run, and working on these other things.  At the end of the week I had forgotten to send out my four required job applications in order to collect that unemployment check.  I hurriedly sent out four resumes for four positions to two different headhunter websites.  that was on Sunday March 8.  I really wasn't expecting to hear anything back.  I had put high salary demands, not sent cover letters, or any of the usual things you're supposed to do, because I didn't really care.
Well, that's when things start to get interesting.  That Tuesday I heard back from one of the headhunters.  She told me about the position, said that my qualifications looked perfect for it and could she present me to them.  I said sure, go ahead.  I've been presented numerous times over the past couple of years and it has never resulted in anything.  I fully expected the same thing.  She called me back the next day and told me that they wanted to interview me.  I told the headhunter of my schedule, that these next two weeks I was basically in full on panic mode with race stuff but here was my schedule, the rest of that week, MTW of race week, or they would have to wait until after the race.  She called me back and asked if I could go in Monday.  Sure, why not.  So in I went for about half a day.  The interview ended up going really well.  Things just clicked, I liked the people, the job looked very interesting and would definitely keep me hopping.  I told the headhunter that I'd like to pursue it if they were interested in me.  She called me back later that day, told me that they really liked me and could I come in again to meet with a couple more people.  I reminded her of my schedule and I ended up going back in on Wednesday morning.  Met with a couple more people, still liked what I saw and let her know.  She called me back that afternoon and said that they wanted to make me an offer and that it would come in either that day or Thursday.
Well, Thursday I was out on the island course marking, setting up race stuff and generally getting ready for the next couple of days.  Also, no internet access and sporadic cell phone, so naturally I didn't hear anything.  Friday morning I was out on the island, looking out over the Great Salt Lake, watching the sun rise, drinking my coffee and enjoying the calm before the 100 mile madness started and my phone rings.  It was the headhunter telling me the details about the offer.  In a word, it was too good to pass up.
The next thing was to set a start date.  I mentioned that my kids and grandkids were coming out a week after the race and I wasn't going to be at work while they were here, so a start date of April 6 was agreed to.
So, I start a new job tomorrow morning.  Added bonus, it's about 10 minutes from my house.  If they have locker and shower facilities, I'll be running to work.
If you're wondering what my job is, Manufacturing Engineer at JBT Aerotech in Ogden.  Full time, direct employee, full benefits.  Something I haven't had in a couple of years.  You know the jetways that you walk down to get on a plane?  Yeah, they're made right here in Ogden.
On an additional note, after I accepted the offer, I had calls from one other company wanting to talk to me and another headhunter wanting to talk to me about positions.  It's kind of like a couple that tries for years to get pregnant, gives up and adopts, and a month later she's pregnant.
So, full time job, additional races to direct, I'm going to be a busy little boy.
I guess the moral of the story is to remain flexible and keep your options open.  You never know what's going to just drop into your lap.

Pickled Feet 12 hour race, it was a reasonably good day

Prerace - 
I've been wanting to get up to Boise and run one of their local races.  So many of the Boise trailrunning scene come down to Utah and run my races so it was time to return the favor.
I decided to run the Pickled Feet 12 Hour just as a last long run before I got out and give Salt Flats 100 another go.  Salt Flats is one of my key races this year.  As a result, I didn't have any real high expectations.  I knew I could get at least 50 miles in 12 hours provided things went went well, and I thought even 60 was possible given my effort at Antelope Canyon a few weeks back.  I even harbored this fantasy of a win if I had a really good day.  I always harbor fantasies of winning races, but that's all they ever are, fantasies.  Keep in mind I have never won a running race in my life.  Also keep in mind I'm 56 years old and my "fast" days are behind me.
I drove up Friday afternoon, hung out, drank beer, and ate pizza with a few Boise runners I know, watched the 100 mile, 24 hour, and 48 hour runners do their thing.  It was a good time.
Went to bed in the back of the truck around 11pm and slept pretty good.
Race day - 
The 12 hour day race started at 6am on the dot.  The weather was cool and windy, but not bad.  We started in the dark but I managed to forget a headlamp.  I managed to grab one from Emily, the RD just as the race started.
The course is an odd shaped lollipop that's a measured 2.5 miles.  A short section where all the runners pass each other, and a loop that the runners can choose which direction to go.
When the race started I found myself in the lead.  Now I've managed to do that in the past, but it's always short lived.  This time I felt pretty good, just dropped into an easy pace and managed to keep the lead, at least for the time being.  When we reached the "Y", I went into my race leader fantasy mode and figured that all of the runners would go right.  I went left and sure enough, no one followed.  Now I had the trail to myself.  I thought I would really pick up the pace since no one would see me and be tempted to follow and just see where things went.
Well, I met the other 12 hour runners on the back end of the course, and carried on.  I managed to finish the first loop in just over 23 minutes and was in the lead still.  I thought "this is weird", but was somewhat buoyed by the fact that I still lead the race.
Meanwhile, the rest of the day was pretty boring.  We had a cold front roll through early in the morning.  Very windy and a few sprinkles, but it cleared off after that and warmed up a bit.
My laps were very consistent in the 23-26 minute range.  After about 6-8 laps, I realized I was still in the lead.  It's hard to know exactly since runners can switch directions on every loop.  I did that some, but then settled in to going just the same direction.  I did know that there were a couple of other runners that were in the hunt, but I wasn't sure how far back they were.  This meant I was running scared.  Still, I kept the pace reasonable, not pushing, but not letting up either.  I finally found out from a friend that I was in the lead by at least a lap, or 2.5 miles.  Not too bad, so far.  Others started noticing that I was doing reasonably well and were cheering me on.  My typical response was to remind them that there was still time for things to go horribly wrong,  I kept waiting for things to do just that, for my legs to get tired, my mind to wander, to just want to take a walking break.  I resolved that I would run every lap I could regardless of how I felt.  The only time I would walk was occasionally through the timing/aid station area, or if I stopped by my makeshift aid station.
When I got close to the 50K mark I thought that maybe I could PR that distance.  I hit it in 5:04:35.  Dang close to a PR.  Since I still felt strong, I set my sights on a 50 mile PR.  I last set a PR at that distance way back in 2010 with an 8:59.  So not tremendously fast.  Needless to say, I was super excited to hit the 50 mile mark at 8:40:14.  Who knew I could still PR.  Doing that just fired me up more, especially since I still felt strong.  I was still in the lead by at least a full lap.  I did catch up with the guy running in second and we compared notes and I was definitely up a lap, plus he was starting to flag a bit, walking bits and pieces here and there.

Photo courtesy Jo Agnew

It was a this point that I thought I really did have a chance to win my first race ever, and possibly set a course record in the process.  As I went through the timing area on one lap, I asked Emily what the course record was, she told me on the next lap that it was 65 miles and change.  I mentioned that I thought I had a shot at it and she encouraged me to go for it.  Meanwhile, I just kept up a steady pace, running as close as I could to the same pace I started with.  I knew I was slowing a bit, but I never entertained any thoughts of walking while out on the loop.
Now the 100K mark was getting closer.  My previous PR was an 11:45 I ran at the Kettle Moraine 100K way back in 2004.  When I finally did get to 100K, my Garmin told me the time was 10:55:06, 50 minutes faster than that previous PR from over ten years ago.  Holy crap!
With just over an hour left, I opted to hit the long loop one more time.  I knew that the win was pretty much there, the only thing hanging was could I get a course record.  I figured at my current pace, I would without too much problem.  Once I finished that last long loop, I switched to the short .38 mile loop that allowed runners to maximize their mileage.  I managed to get a bunch of the short loops and finally called it quits with about 3 minutes left on the clock.  I had the win and the course record with 67.24 miles completed.
Aftermath - 
I finally sat down and quit moving for the first time in 12 hours.  Grabbed a beer and just enjoyed the moment.  I ACTUALLY HAD WON A RACE.  I have never done that.  I ACTUALLY SET A COURSE RECORD.  I have never done that either.  Almost a week later and I still can't believe that it happened.
I have never considered myself as having any real running talent.  I like to run, I do pretty well when I train hard, but most of all I have a pretty good time regardless of how I do.  I have noticed that I am slowing down just a bit.  Here I am, 56 years old, a grandfather, winning a race.  This race was one of those few races that we all have where everything just clicked, the stars and planets aligned and things just went right.  It is something that I will always remember.

Drew Adams, the 2nd place male, and myself.  Photo courtesy Jo Agnew

Fueling -
I used Tailwind, Ultragen, and bacon as my fuel sources.  Mostly Tailwind with about 600 calories consumed.  One dose of Ultragen at 320 calories, and about 5 pieces of bacon at I don't know how many calories.
Gear - 
Since this was a loop course with an aid station every 2.5 miles, I only carried a bottle sporadically when I wanted to get fueled.  For shoes I wore my Altra Olympus the entire time.  Love those shoes.  I ended up with one small blister and I might lose one toenail.  Not too bad considering.
Training - 
I'm not sure where I found this race effort, but I have to give credit where credit is due.  I've been spending a lot of time in the gym at Bomber Athlete.  Joel is a fellow ultrarunner and has been kicking my ass all winter in the gym.  I think it's working.  With the mild winter we've had, I've also managed to log a lot more miles than I usually do during the winter months.  Speedwork helps too.
Thanks and other stuff - 
Here's the Strava link to the race.  https://app.strava.com/activities/276061682
I need to mention a couple of other Utah runners that were there, Kelly Agnew was there to defend his 24 hour title.  Although he didn't set a course record this year, he handily won after comtemplating a DNF five miles into his race.  Davy Crockett was running the 100 mile event, and stomach issues forced him to take a 6-hour downtime.  Most other runners would have hung it up.  He came back out and finished.  While it wasn't a fast time, he did complete it.  That says a lot to his perseverence and toughness.
Many, many thanks to Emily Berriochoa, the RD and her crew.  This was a very well run race.  Aid was constant and plentiful, timing was superb and accurate, everyone was super friendly.  I loved it.

Antelope Canyon 55K, first race of the year

Spoiler alert, let's just say I had a pretty good day at this race.

Prerace-
I've been training hard all winter.  With the weather being reasonably conducive to running outside (keep in mind I hate cold weather), I've been able to really rack up the miles.  In fact, I have more miles this year to date than I ever have since I started keeping a running log, like 8-9 years.  Couple all of the running with my strength work at Bomber Athlete, plus weekly speed sessions, and I felt pretty good about where I am so far.
Antelope Canyon 55K was to be where I would be able to gauge where my training was.  I checked out the course elevation profile, looked at last year's results and kind of put a goal time in my head.  Last year's results showed that the winner of the 50K ran it in 7:38.  Now for those that don't know, a 7:38 is really kind of a slow time given the amount of climbing in this race, as in not much climbing.  So there had to be another factor that resulted in a slow time.  I had heard rumors of copious amounts of sand on the course, but didn't really pay much attention to them.  7:38?  For a 55K?  Heck, even in my old decrepit state I could run it that fast or faster.
Went down Friday with a couple of friends, stayed at the Lake Powell Resort with a bunch of other HUMR's.  I was told the resort was completely full with runners for the race.  Given that this is the off season, I imagine they were pretty happy to get the extra business.  Had dinner with friends and hit the hay.

Toby with a nervous smile before her first ultra

Race-
Got up Saturday morning, got ready, and caught a ride to the start.  Met up with friends again, said our hi's and all of the sudden we were off.  We didn't line up or anything.  Matt, the RD said go, and off we went.

A little bit of prerace action

I immediately noticed that I was roughly middle of the pack.  My usual place.  I figured I would move up some as the day went on, with a finish somewhere in the top third.  Again, my usual place.
Did I mention I heard rumors of sand?  Holy crap, there was sand, and more sand, and more sand, and still more sand.  Like miles and miles of sand.  Ever tried running in dry, loose ankle deep sand?  Yeah, it's slow, it's tough.  Nontheless, I adjusted my gait a bit, shortened my stride, didn't push off on my toes, and was able to keep a steady pace without wearing myself out.

The always happy and upbeat Andrea

My race plan was to evaluate the first couple of miles, see how I felt, then decide if the day was worth really pushing, or if I would just take it a bit easier.  So after a couple of miles, I noticed I felt really good, the running was easy, breathing was easy, I was happy, so time to push the pace.  So many times I just cruise a race thinking that I'm saving some energy for the end miles.  Today I thought I would really push and see where it led.  If I blew up late in the race, so be it.  I would learn from it.
As the miles wore on, I did find myself passing quite a few people, but I really had no idea where I stood in the pack.  I did manage to keep a couple of faster runners in site for a few miles, but eventually that ended as they kept pulling further and further away.  Meanwhile, I was just having a good time running by myself.  No one else around, just keeping the pace a notch above what I usually do.
Shortly after I arrived at the Horseshoe Bend aid station, I met up with a couple of other runners, Kara and Eric, and we kept each other company for the next ten miles or so.  Lots of fun, all running at the same pace.  This ten miles had no trail for us to follow.

Horseshoe Bend, yeah, we ran right along the cliff edge

It was all cross country through sandstone and sagebrush, going from flag to flag, from flour marker to flour marker.  It was nice at times to have three sets of eyes looking for course markings.  We had to stop a couple of times to look for the next marker.  After a bit of that, we ended up at the very edge of a 1000' shear cliff that dropped down to the Colorado River.  Horseshoe bend in all its glory.  It.was.stunning.

Didn't get a chance to suck my gut in before the pic was taken

The best thing is, we got to run right along the edge of the cliff.  Pretty cool stuff.  I managed to snap a few pictures, but mostly just looked out in awe.

Eventually, we made our way away from the cliff and headed for the next section of stunningness.  After the Water Hole aid station, we dropped into Water Hole Canyon.

Kara, the women's 55K winner descending into Water Hole Canyon

Me next

This is a slot canyon and at some points, you did have to turn sideways, it was so narrow.  We had to climb at ladder up about ten feet at one point.  It.was.stunning to run through this.
After running through Water Hole Canyon for about a mile, we made our way up a steep sand hill and back out into the open countryside.

Eric's turn for a picture in Water Hole Canyon

 Now it was time for some straight-line running, downhill, along a powerline (kind of boring and not very scenic), in yet more sand.  Thank goodness it was downhill.  I felt really good here and really opened it up, putting a bit of distance between me and my two running companions.  After this section of downhill effort, there was a crappy section of uphill running, in yet more sand.  I did manage to run this entire uphill mile without walking a bit.  A testament to all of the strength training and speedwork this winter.  It was the top of the hill that I took a wrong turn for a couple hundred yards before I was yelled at by some other runners.  Yep, haven't gone off course at a race in a long time.  This bit of off course running now put me behind my two running companions, but I was hoping to catch back up.  So once again, time for more sand running.  Did I mention there was a bit of sand on the course?  Yeah, a lot, like fully one third of the course was ankle deep, dry and loose sand.

Got a bit narrow in spots

Yeah, we climbed this ladder

Eventually I made it to the Page Rim Trail.  This is a trail that encircle the town of Page, AZ.  Page sits on the top of a small mesa and this trail meanders along just below the rim of the mesa.  The 55K runners had to make one loop of this trail before heading for the finish line.  Well, by now I was starting to get a bit tired.  We hit this trail at around mile 20.  That meant we still had about 12-13 miles to go.  The good thing was, it wasn't sandy, it was nice hardpack single track, very runnable.  The bad thing is that it was very runnable.  When you're presented with a flat trail late in the race, when you really want to just walk for a bit, you fell obligated to run the damn thing because, well, it's runnable.  So I ran, and ran, and ran.  I did manage to catch a couple of people on this section, but I did notice one of the women ever so slowly gaining on me.  I knew I wouldn't be able to hold her off, but I was going to make her work for it.
I left the last aid station with 6.9 miles to go and figured 1.5 hours given my current "running" pace.  Yeah, I was starting to slow down just a bit.  This is the point in a race where I usually just kind of throw in the towel and cruise it in.  This time I decided to see just how deep I could dig to keep a run at a decent pace going.  It was tough, really tough.  My calves were wanting to cramp, the legs were tired and sore, my breathing was kind of ragged.  I wanted to walk at every uphill opportunity, no matter how small the uphill.  I had to really tell my self to keep running.  I think this is what's called the pain cave, that point where you just withdraw into yourself and focus on the task at hand, no matter what you feel like.  About two miles before the last aid station, Toby, one of the ladies I traveled down with, passed me.  This was her first ultra and she was doing really well.  If you knew her story, you would know just how well she was doing.  Very tough lady.  Anyway, we chatted for a couple fo seconds and she motored on ahead.  I was glad to see her doing so well.  About a quarter mile out of the last aid station, the lady I was trying to stay ahead of finally caught me.  I thought, oh well, I tried.  As I came upon the last aid station, I saw that she went into the canopy.  I thought here's my chance to get that place back.  I filled a water bottle really quick and bolted.  I knew that the finish line was less than a mile away and if I could put some distance between the two of us really quick, I might have a chance to stay ahead.  I could see the finish line in the distance, so I took off as fast as I could, in other words, not very fast.  I dropped off the mesa we had been running around and ran as fast as I could. I did manage to hold her off for that last 0.7 miles.
I managed to cross the finish line with a time of 6:13.  Not quite my goal time, I did want a sub 6-hour time, but I was happy with it.  I had pretty much laid it on the line to run that fast and I was spent.  As I was standing there, I asked the timers what my placing was.  I figured somewhere in the top 20-25.  When they told me I was 10th, I didn't believe them.  I don't ever place that high in the standings, at least I haven't in several years.  So yeah, that made the effort all that much sweeter.  7th place male.  Really happy with that.  No one who finished ahead of me was older than 42.  Yep, grandpa kinda took it to the kids today.
Aftermath-
So the final result show me with an 8th place finish, 6th place male out of about 90 starters.  No one over the age of 42 finished in front of me, so yeah, I'm really happy with my time and certainly my placing.  I certainly wasn't expecting that at all.  This bodes well for my upcoming season provided I can keep up the training, and indeed bump it up substantially.
So what did I do differently to get there?  Well, like I mentioned, specific strength training, specific running, and a different metal attitude.  One where I left most everything out on the course.  It felt really good to push hard.  It was uncomfortable for most of the race, but we're always told, get comfortable with being uncomfortable.  I certainly was this time.
I got the chance to see plenty of friends running the race as well, and cheer them on.  I always enjoy the social aspect of these races.
Fueling - 
Basically I didn't fuel the entire race.  I ate one gel, about four cups of coke, and a bottle of Tailwind drink.  I intentionally did that for a reason.  I figure that when I run a marathon, I don't fuel much, why should I treat a race that's just a bit longer any different.  Not fueling as much certainly gets me through the aid stations quicker.  I probably drank 60-70 oz. of water as well.  My stomach was fine.  It did start to get just a bit queasy the last few miles, but nothing worth slowing down about.  The only change I would have made  would have been to take some electrolytes and maybe one more gel late in the race.  I think that's why my  calves wanted to cramp up the last few miles and that bit of energy would have been nice to have.
Shoes - 
I wore my Altra Olympus, no gaiters, and I had very little sand in my shoes.  I attribute this to the slight change in my gait when I was running in the sand, more of a flat footed gait.  Seemed to work for me.  Plus I never seem to get much dirt and sand in my shoes.
Gear/clothing - 
The weather was perfect for this race.  High's in the low 60's, cloudy most of the day, no breeze.  I wore shorts, compression shorts, a short sleeve t and a long sleeve t.  I had light gloves on most of the day as my hands can get cold when it's in the 70's.  That choice was perfect.
Race critique -
Did I mention anything about the insane amounts of sand on the course?  Yeah, there was a lot.  For the most part I enjoyed the course.  The first few miles weren't anything to write home about, running on sandy atv roads, trash strewn about, but once we headed for Horseshoe Bend, things got a lot better.  That section coupled with Water Hole Canyon were my favorite parts by far.  The trek around Page on the rim trail was also pretty nice.  Very runnable, scenic views of Lake Powell, the surrounding desert, and just a nice trail.  I would recommend this race for anyone who likes desert running.  Matt Gunn does a great job with any of his races, and this one was no exception.  Aid stations were very well stocked with everything you could want during an ultra.  The volunteers were great, very helpful.  The Navajo tacos at the finish line were good and a nice change of pace for post race fare.  Plus Matt had plenty of good beer at the finish line.  Hard to beat that.

The completely awesome finisher's coffee mug

It was indeed a good day.