Seattle Running ClubTwo hundred images from a beautiful fall day full of cross country racing here in Seattle at Lower Woodland Park. Seattle Running Club also debuted their slick new jerseys!
The USATF Pacific Northwest Open Cross Country Championships.
November 4, 2012
All images © John Wallace III
It’s that time of year again, folks. Time to decorate your home & office walls with some of Glenn Tachiyama’s stunning race photography. From here in Washington down to Northern California and out to Logan UT, the 2013 Tribute to the Trails calendar highlights the very trails and that we here in the Pacific Northwest get to experience all year long.
The calendars will be ready to ship on November 16th and will cost $23 online* or $20 in-store. ALL profits from this calendar are donated to the Washington Trails Association, helping ensure we’ll have these trails to enjoy for many years to come.
For more information, please visit their FaceBook page. Online orders will be possible at Zombie Runner. In-store orders and pickup are possible at our partner stores, Fleet Feet Seattle as well as The Balanced Athlete in Renton (The Balanced Athlete is now accepting pre-orders).
*online orders include $3 in PayPal processing fees
The Seattle Running Club XC teams had their 2012 debut on a beautiful day in West Seattle’s Lincoln Park. Results from the races can be found here.
Lincoln Park, Seattle, WA
Sep 15th, 2012
All Photos by John Wallace III
I have a race in one week. The day is circled on my calendar. Every day I jot down my training and the circle haunts me from its space one row down. I haven’t tailored my training for this race and yet I harbor a mini-obsession about it.
Because I’ve run this race before and it spells FALL. I can run a marathon in any weather, anywhere. The first trail race of the year denotes spring on muddy trails adorned with wildflowers. But September means cross country. And my first cross country race is Sundodger.
If you think cross country is only for high school and college runners, you’ll be surprised to know there is a thriving Master’s division of cross country in the Pacific Northwest as well as throughout the country. It is the arena where seasoned road racers, track stars and trail runners meet and the strengths of each discipline are necessary for success.
Sundodger is not a fun run. People don’t dress in goofy costumes and gorge themselves at a finish line buffet. We are dressed in uniforms. We are a team, bravely facing off other teams. Bravery is requisite because we’re Masters competing in a college meet, so we’ll be tearing it up against legs and lungs half our age.
Sundodger – I love the name. It evokes images of heavy clouds bombarding runners who must dodge a gauntlet of raindrops. The race, however, means something different to me. True, the sun is scarce in West Seattle’s Lincoln Park. And dodging does describe the style of racing. It’s not raindrops that I’m dodging. I’m dodging the other women, their elbows pink from the cold, like jabbing weapons as I weave around them. It is dodging in tight, feather-light spikes around turns in the trail, stepping on the balls of my feet, pushing off roots and edges of puddles and pivoting, my ankles working hard, coordinating with my core to steer me.
Cross country gives me the exhilarating feel of a herd in flight. Maybe for some it is like being in a pack of wolves. But for me, it’s like I’m a deer. I’m running together with the herd but I’m always trying to break ahead, not necessarily victory seeking. Rather, I’m pushed by a fear of being at the back, of being devoured, engulfed. The whites of my eyes likely show, though I never look back.
There’s more adrenaline packed into the 22 minutes of the 6k for me than is spread out in an entire marathon. My race is about intense alertness and physical intent.
I hope readers are not turned off by this extreme description. Cross country is not all seriousness. There are elements of fun and team camaraderie. Honestly, I am one who hated cross country in high school but love it now, for its purity and quintessence in the vast milieu of weekend races. I manage to drive five hours round-trip several times each fall because the obsession hasn’t weakened its grip on me.
It had been another long day. Long in a wonderful way. Quentin had finished a stunning portrait of flowers at art camp, the swimming pool had beckoned us to dive and tread in its silky coolness, and then there was more earnest play at our friends’ riverfront barbeque below their orchard. We enforced a few moments of stillness in order to get Quentin and Alice to chew before dashing back to the beach to dig elaborate canals.
At the end of it all, we are lingering in the delightful elongation of evening, filled with shared contentment. We’re ready for the half-mile climb through the orchard back to our friends’ house before saying goodbye. Just waiting for kids to drop like ripe fruit into their carseats.
“I’m going to run behind the car.”
“What, really?”
Quentin smiles, this little plan hatched in his head. His clothes are soggy, his legs splattered with sand and he’s wearing hand-me-down crocs that are still a size too big.
“Okay.”
We roll the windows down and Kevin will drive slowly, just in case. We start our ascent. I can’t see Quentin through my side mirror so I have to turn my head to watch. He’s framed by the rear windshield, a moving picture, his sun bleached hair contrasting glowing cheeks, his arms pumping smoothly, rhythmically. When did his legs grow so long? When did his eyes gleam with such impish determination? How is he keeping those crocs on? These thoughts thud inside my head as I watch my boy, the one I pushed for so many miles in a baby jogger, enduring, running after his long day, fueled by ice cream that still encrusts his upper lip.
A few times Quentin slows. Twice to retrieve a wayward croc. A couple times to walk and catch his breath. I call out to him, does he want to hop in? I mention to Kevin that I could keep Quentin company and he could drive up to the house. My mom instinct overpowers me sometimes and Kevin thankfully denies my attempts at rescue. This is not about me running with Quentin. And it’s not about applauding his vim while cutting his vision short.
We continue to drive slowly, gravel crunching under our tires. After passing two dogs that wag their tails and sniff at Quentin, we’re at the final bend and rise to the house. Exhaustion starts to weigh on Quentin but he rallies for the finish. When we arrive there is cheering and Quentin saying to himself and to the rest of us, “I did it. I did it.” Alice, the biggest competitor in the family, shakes her head in wonder at her brother’s impressive strength.
It is clear to me now. I have glimpsed the young man Quentin will one day become, strong in body and mind. Powered by his heart’s desire, no task is too hard and every opportunity is open to him. The moment is etched into my memory, illuminated by a new pride, one that is beyond me, for Quentin alone and the values he embodies.
Over the past month I have had a phenomenal set of races. A welcome break to what was looking to be a dismal 2012. After the catastrafu-…….nk that was the Vancouver Marathon in May, I seemed to mess up my knee and glute during a brief period of hot weather we had later that month. Hydration, it’s a thing, just do it. This setback led to weeks of not running, and followed an already low amount of running recovering from the marathon. Being a lover of high mileage, this took an immense toll on me physically as well as mentally. After visiting a personal friend who is a PT and having him rectify my wrongs, I got back SLOWLY into running and expected very little in the way of performances. I guess that’s just what I needed, because what followed was a tremendous string of races that still have me riding high!
First was attempting to defend my title at the Langley Half Marathon, a truly brutal all road course that leaves no prisoners. I knew the 1:15:30 record set by Ian Frasier was out of the question, but my 1:19 of last year left me wondering how much closer to an elusive CR I could manage on 2 weeks of total training. This would be my longest run since Vancouver…. I jumped into the lead from the gun, pressed early on the first flatter sections and then eased into the first hill so as not to kill myself early. I knew I was the only non-islander (Langley is on Whidbey Island, and the race is almost completely dominated by locals who know what the hell they’re doing in terms of pacing this monster) and there is a bit of a target on my back considering the top 5 remembered me and did some whispering and pointing at the start line. I tried to press as well as possible on the flats and be controlled and smooth on the downhills. I’m confident in my uphill running ability that I tend to just go on feel uphill and focus my energies on keeping the other elements in check. I passed up water station 1 (not a mistake) and accidentally dropped the cup from water station 2 (a large mistake), so by the time I got to the turn-around water station at the top of the course I was, to put it mildly, parched. Knowing I stopped at the top last year and drank water made me OK with stopping again to carefully pour water on my burning quads and to drink the sweet liquid of life. Also knowing Frasier walked part of the uphill makes me feel confident in my “stop at the half way” tactic. On the return trip I kept track of my lead on second place. Running without a watch I had no idea of time, but I felt I had a larger lead than the previous year and wasn’t worried about being caught.
Returning on the hills that day was absolutely brutal. It was a gut check if ever there was one. My legs hurt so bad from a lack of uphill training, and a general fatigue I hadn’t encountered in months. Towards the final miles my flatland speed began to diminish and the first thoughts of doubt began to set in. The only thing really keeping me together was course knowledge. I know the course now and I was prepared for each hill and a general idea of how long the climbs were. Knowing this easily knocked a minute off my time. As I sped down the last long hill into the finish I really opened it up and tested how hard I could push on a downhill. Finding another gear I was pleased that when I crossed the tape I’d found myself 2:30 seconds faster last year. 1:16:58 puts me under 1:17 (smiley face), gives me two of the three fastest times on the course (double smiley face), and puts me within striking distance of the CR (next year!).
*****
Having felt very very pleased with my run at Langley, getting back into training was easy, but my next race was going to be quite a bit trickier. I am planning on running the Chuckanut 50k in March, and to prepare I decided it would be good to run the middle 18, it would be better to race the middle 18, and it would be best to run one of Candice/James’s races on the middle 18. As luck would have it I found myself waking groggily and without coffee along the Bellingham shore having “slept” in a tent at an adjacent campground. Candice and James remembered me from Yakima Skyline, but I anticipated being an unknown to the other competitors. This race as like Langley is filled with locals, keen on the shifty tricks of the trails, and well-versed in the curves and subtle features of the mountain known as Chuckanut. Somehow I found myself on the start line holding my bottle and two gels being whispered about and pointed at by one other competitor. Why? Honestly. No idea, I’m an unknown!!! As we set off up the trail I somehow found myself in the lead. I did not want to be in the lead, but that just happened. I had very little course knowledge here, and powered by sheer terror of replicating Max King’s interesting navigational errors, I scorched my way up the first climb attempting to place as much distance between myself and second place as possible early on. As I climbed up to Fragrance Lake I tried to get my mind on what I was doing, I needed to drink in as much course into my mind as possible, and I wanted to run 2:30. I figured that is the time Roes ran for this section when he set the 50k CR, and without the flat 10ks bookending it, was possible, but a TALL order especially on a month and a half of total running.
Almost as soon as I got to Fragrance Lake I realized I had made a mistake of pacing. Checking back on the switchbacks I saw I was being pursued by a pink racing flatted creature of real speed. My tactic of knowing when to push and when not to (they call this course knowledge, it is a thing) was seemingly blowing up in my face from the start. When we dropped down onto the dirt road I was terrified that my downhill running was sucking more than normal and I was pretty damn sure I was lost because nothing made any sense. On top of that my legs hurt, you know, from all the running. I again opted to run watchless and go on feel rather than pace. Smart decision, but habitually checking your empty wrist looks a bit odd. Then again running like a damn madman through the forest with a number pinned to your shorts doesn’t do me any favors. Climbing up the road I tried to make myself as efficient and even-paced as possible, again a quick look back confirmed I was in for well over an hour more of really hard racing as I seemed to put no distance on my competition.
I cannot stress how long that road seemed. I almost thought about dropping because I went out so ridiculously fast on the first climb, and had already walked once or twice. I couldn’t grasp what idiot was controlling my legs, but I stubbornly soldiered on. Reaching the ridgeline I scared the living bejeezus out of the aid station, filled my bottle and took off down what almost no person on the planet would call a “trail.” Trails dont have cliffs, trees growing in the middle of them, or a Mario Bros-style platform jumping puzzles in them, we civilized suburbanites call that: “the woods.” That being said, getting onto the technical portion of the course I began to feel good. Well, great. I started to pick up steam and really got motoring, hopping and ripping along the undulating ridgeline. By the time I dropped off the back of the ridge into the valley I was back in Beast Mode, only without Skittles. On the long return below the ridge I took my SRC singlet off, tucked it into my shorts, watered the head and quads, and flew. Gently easing onto the throttle I kept pushing faster and faster on the long rollers picking up free seconds where I could.
As I pulled into the aid station at Chinscraper I felt super confident. I’d walked only once, I’d run quickly on the flats, and my downhills felt better than previously. Another quick refill-o-H2O and I was off up the hill. Starting into the trail I immediately happened upon the top two 12k runners, having no idea they were A. fast, and B. not in the middle of the 12k pack like I’d guessed. I ripped by them trying not to let anyone show me up on the climbs. This move scared the living Sam Hell out of them, seeing as they were racing for series points and thought I materialized out of thin air. My move though, was…ill-timed. Chinscraper followed what I originally thought was Chinscraper, which then had more uphill afterwards. Who the hell puts more hill after Chinscraper? Stupid mountain. After the uphill I stumbled out onto the road, ran past a father and son enjoying the mountain air. Judging from the look of terror on their face I must have seemed like I just climbed out of my own ill-timed grave. At this point I knew that all that stood between me and sweet handcrafted mug victory was to sack up and do something I generally save for special occasions when I want to impress the ladies: run the downhills quickly. Thats a joke, I can’t run downhill quickly. I can run downhill, it will not be quick. After the first 12ker flew by me wearing a pair of Nikes older than me I told myself I was not going to get passed by another no matter what. So I only got beat by one more guy in a final sprint. I was comforted by the fact that I had believed on my best day I could run 2:30. If I was on fire like a banker’s pants, maybe 2:28. I flew across the finish line completely spent in 2:24. I thought the clock had to be wrong, that no way did I just run a 2:24 on that section. Did I? Holy flaming bankers pants, Batman!!! I had little energy to celebrate so instead I drank a beer and sunbathed.
*****
Two days later, I went on vacation. A college friend of mine decided to set up a long road trip through national parks and invite me along as his running/hiking buddy, seeing an opportunity to go to 6-10k ft and live for 10 days I jumped at the opportunity, the only catch is that the day before the Cougar 13 miler I would need to drive 12 hours to get home. Sure, I’ll take that downside. Lining up at Sky Country I really had no idea what the hell my fitness was like. I’d basically had 2 weeks of super low mileage, super long time spent on feet, and super little oxygen. Seeing Uli there is nerve-wracking, however he was tethered to his dog (or is it the other way around?) so my worries were eased. Eddie Strickler was there (10 miler CR holder), as was “ol’ Mikey Smith” (my nickname, no one else call him that), and Keegan Symmes (thankfully this wasn’t another 5k, I can’t stand losing another one to that kid) the field was stacked. I figured I needed to get some serious distance on them before Wilderness otherwise they were going to see me on the switchbacks and realize my downhill weakness. Eddie already knows it, and Mikey Smith does too, but Keegan is young and he has high school things to remember, so maybe he didn’t know my achilles heel. By the mile 3 aid station I’d blasted through the flatter miles and lept out to a minute lead on the field. I ran with reckless abandon over the flats and when I topped out on Wilderness was feeling good. Hell maybe that thin air cleaned me out, I was just on it. Until the trail did the downhill thing it likes to do, then…it started going south. Coming back up Wilderness Creek I prepared myself for the power hiking I would endure, and stomached the humiliation I knew my co-worker Trey would inflict on me if he caught me walking those switchbacks he knows so well. I hit the aid station, took a cup of water, found my guts, and made out down to De Leo fixin’ for a comeback. As I hit De Leo, I really hit De Leo Wall. It just crushed me. My lungs were just burning, I swear I’d swallowed a sandpaper lozenge climbing up that godawful mess. Speaking of godawful mess, my ungraceful withered frame slunked into the final aid station, grabbed two cups of water, doused the flaming glutes, wasted the rest on my head and general face area, and whipped off down the trail. I saw the impending blow up on Quarry coming, I was primed like a North Korean rocket launch. Two minutes up it and I was looking for discarded trekking poles to magically appear on the wayside. I felt like I had the race in the bag going up De Leo, I had seen no one on switchbacks and I was emotionally prepared for the Enron-sized failure I was going to be on Quarry. Even once I’d crested the hellish unending nightmare that is Quarry-don’t-ever-run-me-I’m-no-fun Trail, I couldn’t muster anything more than a scant jog in comparison to my early race pace. As it usually does, the pace gradually sped back up and I burst out of the trees finding myself with a huge 3 minute improvement over my 2009 time, and another win notched into my belt.
******
Overall it’s been a great comeback. I’ve run some times that really make me step back and rethink what I’m capable of, and make me excited to test myself against faster runners and tougher course records. I can’t wait to return to Langley next year for a shot at it, and I’m eagerly chomping at the bit to get after the 25k CR at Cle Elum.
All photos: © John Wallace, III
The White River 50 Mile remains the crown jewel of Pacific Northwest ultra racing, and 2012’s race was one for the ages. We had a record number of people toe the start line (as well as the finish line). We had Ellie Greenwood, arguably the greatest North American female ultrarunner of all time not named Ann Trason, training-running her way to within 8 minutes of the course record. We had ultra-noob Sage Canaday, in only his 2nd ultra ever (and FIRST 50 mile) shatter the very legitimate course record by 9+ minutes and put the rest of the world on notice that he is very very very much for real.
The list of names who have run this course is a veritable who’s who of ultrarunning lore, and it’s to the credit of the McCoubrey’s, all of our volunteers each and every year, and of course the 50 beautiful miles of Cascade goodness. Each year this race grows, whether it catches the eyes of new trail runners who’ve heard nothing but good things or veteran trail runners who want to test their mettle against this race’s history. For those two groups and everyone in between, it’s extremely rare and difficult to leave White River disappointed or regretful. It’s a microcosm of ultrarunning’s overall community. As low-key or rugged as you make it. Epic trail running with friends followed by a relaxed and celebratory buffet of like-minded community support and acceptance. And good burritos!
We congratulate everyone who took this race on in 2012 and either look forward to seeing you again in 2013 or personally introducing you next year to one of the best trail races in the country. We have a hunch you’ll like it.
All 275 finishers (easily a new record!)
Also check out RealEndurance.com for lots more race history and statistical information.
Thank you and congratulations to those that have become members of our club and help support our continued growth! We hope you enjoyed yourself out on the trails and we appreciate your continued support!
Chris Bellevie - 14:24:51 Angel Mathis - 11:37:19 Karlee Coble - 11:34:45 Kyle McCoy Bradley Dutkiewicz - 10:08:59 Priya Naik - 10:48:23 David Entz - 9:29:40 Van Phan - 9:56:59 Boram Kim Jonathan Symmes - 9:55:27 Peter Kline - 14:35:08 Ken Turner - 11:24:49 Glen Mangiantini - 11:22:00 Jimmy Vitelli - 11:50:09 Andy Martin - 11:11:46 Sophia Walker - 10:01:15 Arthur Martineau - 8:39:36 Ben Wenter - 10:40:47 Tim Mathis - 9:59:07
Greg Crowther, former SRC president and one of the rare sub-7:00 finishers (only 16 ever), gives his thoughts on the historic performance by first-time 50 miler Sage Canaday.
>>Read More
Our own John Wallace was there at the end capturing what many consider the best moment of the race: crossing the finish line! Below is a sample, click here for the rest.
Glenn Tachiyama’s traditionally excellent images (start line, Corral Pass, Sun Top) are available.
Takao Suzuki also has a massive and great set of start line and mid-race images on Facebook.
New course record holder Sage Canaday uploaded this video with footage from before, during, and after his amazing race:
Josh Barringer – 10:47:34
Sage Canaday – 6:16:10
Mark Cliggett – 10:44:50
Jennifer Edwards – 9:21:38
Ellie Greenwood – 7:40:02
Jayme Helgeson – 12:47:16
Adam Hewey – 7:48:00
Tim Mathis – 9:59:07
Greg Norrander – 7:55:08
Jacob Puzey (mostly writing about Sage Canaday) – 7:10:52
Dan Ripple – 13:47:26
Spencer Vaughn – 8:44:26
George Williams – 9:54:51
Karla – Volunteer perspective (from Corral Pass)!
Did you run White River? Send us your race report via our Facebook page, or link to it in the comments here, and we’ll add it to the list!
There were 184 first time White River 50 finishers.
There were 91 repeat offenders, led by Dave Dutton and his FIFTEENTH finish (two 6-year consecutive streaks ’94-’99, ’07-’12), William Emerson (#11), James Kerby (#10). Glen Mangiantini (#8 – all consecutive [’05-’12]!), Van Phan (#8 – 6 consecutive [’07-’12]), Arthur Martineau (#7 – all consecutive [’06-’12]).
There were 47 new course PRs!
Most time off PR: Bradley Dutkiewcz 3:03:41 (13:12:40 – 10:08:59)
Least time off PR: Seth Wolpin 2:27 (10:05:33 – 10:03:06)
Most time over PR: Dave Dutton 4:07:45 (12:54:16 – 8:46:31)
Least time over PR: Marie Boucher 0:39 (11:04:40 – 11:04:01)
We totaled 79 DNS (“did not start”) Forty were before bibs assigned, 39 after.
There were 40 DNF (“did not finish”)
Oldest Male (under cutoff): Scott Flett, 64 11:34:15 (6min54sec PR!)
Oldest Male: Charles Rose, 65, 14:51:38 – (first-ever White River 50 finish!)
Youngest Male: Trevor Farris, 17, 13:08:20.
Oldest Female: Liz Kellogg, 63 11:04:52 – (Liz was also 11min9sec under the then-female 60-69 age-group record. The record was ultimately broken by Gail Forshaw, 62, with an 11:04:40 [11min21 sec under].)
Youngest Female: Three 24 year-olds: Yitka Winn 9:53:34, Carley Feuerborn & Ashley Earle 12:20:49.
Last weekend Sage Canaday unleashed a completely implausible yet very real performance at the White River 50.
I don’t think a lot of people understand just how remarkable Sage’s race was. Perhaps the following exercise will help.
Imagine a convergence of all of the great ultrarunners, past and present, who have come to White River in their prime: Tony Krupicka, Uli Steidl, Michael Wardian, Scott Jurek, Karl Meltzer, Hal Koerner, William Emerson, Dave Mackey, Chad Ricklefs, Mike Wolfe, etc. etc. etc. Line them up at the start, in your mind, and send each of them off to run the race as well as they ever have.
In this virtual race, as in the real one, the stars collectively hold back for a while. Even the 2010 Krupicka and the 2004 Steidl cover the first few relatively flat miles at a very comfortable 7-minute pace. But there is one exception. Twenty-six-year-old Sage Canaday, whose ultrarunning experience consists of one 50K, is going for it. He abandons Krupicka, Steidl, and the rest without so much as a backward glance. Who the hell does this kid think he is?
As Sage reaches the second aid station — Ranger Creek, less than a quarter of the way through the race — his lead has become an affront to the ultrarunning royalty behind him. Even after correcting for changes to the 2012 course, he’s 10 minutes ahead of Krupicka and Steidl.
Surely the kid will pay for his overzealousness … and yet he doesn’t. By the Buck Creek aid station, 27-plus miles in, he has extended his gaudy lead over the field: 12 minutes on Krupicka, 16 minutes on Steidl, etc. The race is only half over, yet Wardian, Jurek, and company have already been made irrelevant to the question of who will win.
In the second half, Krupicka closes slightly, but it’s no use; Sage’s lead is too big. He beats Krupicka by 9 minutes and 19 seconds, Steidl by 16:33, and everyone else by over half an hour. The 2010 Greg Crowther is thrilled to finally break 7 hours in his fourth attempt, yet has been beaten by a full 42 minutes. He can only shake his head in wonder.
[Photo by John Wallace.]
I think I got everybody. Great race, everyone! A lot of determined faces for 7.5 hours!
It’s finally time for the 2nd Shoeless Joe Interview! I apologize for the delay, and appreciate all the warm words of encouragement from people who enjoyed my first one, with Uli Steidl!
Greg Crowther is a well-known Seattle-based runner with an incredible amount of accolades on both the roads and the trails, on both short and long distances. He can win 5Ks and he can win 100 milers. He’s represented the United States numerous times at the 100k World Championships. And to top it off, he served as the Seattle Running Club president back in 2011. More of Greg (and less of Joe) can be found at GregCrowther.com, his twitter profile, and SingAboutScience.org.
Unfortunately Greg has long been sidelined with an Achilles injury. He was out of commission for nearly two years, but is now getting back into the running saddle. And after a number of months spent tracking him down, he finally agreed to stop running for a few minutes and sit down with me. Enjoy!
********
Shoeless Joe: Welcome to a new edition of the Shoeless Joe interview! Today I’m blessed to get to speak to the head honcho himself, Greg Crowther! (mispronounced as “kroh-ther”). I spoke to Greg one time after a Cougar Mountain race, but this time we’re going to get real! Greg, how are you doing?
Greg Crowther: I’m fine, thanks. How are you?
SJ: I’m great! I had a small cyst near my butt that I got removed recently, but otherwise I’m fantastic. It’s an honor to be speaking with the Seattle Running Club President!
GC: Well, former president. Win Van Pelt succeeded me in November.
SJ: Oh cool! Win Van Pelt…that’s an interesting name. No offense but he does sound a bit more presidential than “Greg Crowther.” (mispronounces name again) I’m sure you were great though! Speaking of great, I hear you’ve had a great injury that has kept you from running for many weeks. What has that been like?
GC: The injury to my left Achilles tendon has been great in that it has been an important influence in my life, for better or worse — great in the sense of the Great War or Great Flood. I haven’t trained seriously or raced since August of 2010. I was pretty bitter and upset about this for many months; then my marriage ended, which really put running in the proper perspective. I dream of getting fit again, which might happen in a year or in a few years or never. For now I am mostly a “social runner.”
SJ: Oh, my source did not mention anything about any marriage ending. I’m afraid I don’t have any follow ups on that topic.
You say you might be fit in a year, a few years, or never. Can you narrow that down? Will you be racing the White River 50 mile this coming weekend? I’ve raced that one a few times; I think you would enjoy it!
GC: (Sigh) No, I’m afraid that I cannot “narrow that down.” To any hypothetical Greg Crowther fans out there who are breathlessly awaiting an announcement on my return to competition, I’d say, “Thanks for your interest, but please find something more worthy of your attention.”
Regarding White River, I’ve been smitten ever since 2002, when I crewed for defending champion William Emerson. Watching that race had a huge influence on me. Up to that point I had thought that ultramarathons were really long, dull episodes of power-walking over ridiculously hard, poorly-marked courses. White River showed me that an ultra could be a well-organized, runnable race contested by athletes who are fast as well as tough. The 2002 race was an epic battle between Emerson, Scott Jurek, Karl Meltzer, Hal Koerner, and Nate McDowell. Nate is probably the least well-known of those guys, but at that time he was as good as any of them, and when he came whipping down the Sun Top road, 43 miles into the race, at sub-6:00 pace, leaving Jurek and the others in the dust, I was super-impressed.
Since then I’ve been back to White River almost every year to race or volunteer.
SJ: That’s awful kind of you! Do you think you have a good shot at winning White River this year?
GC: (Sigh) My chance of winning is 0 because my chance of racing is 0, as I tried to convey earlier.
Are we working through a bunch of questions that you prepared before the interview? You should feel free to modify the questions as we go so that, in the context of my answers, they actually make sense. Otherwise people might conclude that you aren’t very smart or aren’t listening to me, or both.
SJ: Huh? Oh yeah, I agree! I remember my first White River, in 2009. I said “Hi” to Scott Jurek but I don’t think he heard me. Did you know he’s vegan?! I saw that online. It’s crazy that he’s able to run all those 50Ks and 50 milers without any protein. Do you have any dietary…umm…tendencies? Are you vegan…or paleo or something?
GC: I abide by a strict meat-based diet. Perhaps that’s why I’m 6-0 lifetime against Jurek.
SJ: (Laughter) Greg Crowther (mispronounced) getting feisty! I love it! Alright let’s keep the feistiness going with the Fleet Feet Fast-Acting Lightning Speed Round, sponsored by our good friends at Fleet Feet Seattle! Greg, I’ve brought this mask. If you dare put this over your eyes, you’re telling me you’re ready to throw down!
GC: Um, can’t I just say, “I am, in fact, ready to throw down”?
SJ: You may say you’re ready but that face says otherwise! Put the mask on! If you want to show as well as Uli did, you’ll need to block out all distractions!
GC: Hold on. What IS the “speed round,” anyway? Do I have to answer quickly? Or are all the questions about fast people?
SJ: Oh I’m sorry, did you not check out my interview with Uli? Yes, the game is I ask you a question fastly, and you answer fastly. Lightning fast! See, because running is about being fast. (trailing off) Well, for some people…
GC: Well, trying to keep up with Uli is generally a bad idea. I’m going to give you back your mask so that nothing catastrophic happens to it.
SJ: Sorry Greg, I will have to insist!
GC: No, I’m serious.
SJ: Well alright, maybe next time! Ok, here we go! What is your favorite brand of hot dogs?
GC: Do Schultzy’s sausages count?
SJ: I…suppose, yes! I’ll allow it!
You and I are heading to a karaoke bar tonight…what song are you planning on rocking?
GC: “Hold On.” In the style of Wilson Phillips, of course. My backup choice would be “Once in a Lifetime” by Talking Heads. “This is not my beautiful house!” and all that. Sorry, am I being too long-winded for the Fleet Feet Lightning Blah Blah Blah Speed Round?
SJ: Not at all! Would you mind singing a few bars of “Hold On?” Just to prove you’re not one of those poser Wilson Phillips fans?
GC: Sure! In fact, I have my own backing track right here with me. (Actually does pull out phone and plays a karaoke version of “Hold On.” Greg and Joe sing together for a verse and a half.)
SJ: Awesome song, reminds me of VH1! Moving along, I see you brought a bike helmet with you. Do you play any bike polo?
GC: Uh, no. For me, biking isn’t really a sport, it’s just a way to get around.
SJ: You have been convicted of murdering Fleet Feet’s Brian Morrison. You’re on death row and nobody likes you because everyone loved Brian. What is your last meal?
GC: Fried chicken. I wouldn’t enjoy it, though, because I’d be upset about Brian’s death — I was framed, obviously — not to mention my own impending demise.
As an aside, you’re doing a marvelous job of working Fleet Feet into every other sentence. Didn’t they once give you a free pair of socks?
SJ: Yes!
GC: I think you’ve paid your debt to them at this point. We should also be sure to mention the Seattle Running Club’s OTHER distinguished partner store, The Balanced Athlete. Whose owner, Eric Sach, was cleared of all wrongdoing in the Morrison case, by the way.
SJ: Yes, I agree. Everyone, go to The Balanced Athlete…tell them Shoeless Joe sent you; they’ll hook you up!
Keeping with the food theme, favorite type of M&Ms: Regular, Peanut, Almond, Dark Chocolate, Peanut Butter, Coconut, Mint, Grape, or Pretzel?
GC: The green ones. Those are home runs, right?
SJ: ? How many tattoos do you have?
GC: None.
SJ: If forced at gunpoint to get one, what would you get?
GC: Whatever the gunman wanted me to get, I suppose. How many do you have?
SJ: None, too scared! But if Vibram Five Fingers hooked me up, I might be willing to get their shoe tattooed on my leg or chest or something.
GC: I agree; if you have to get a tattoo, you might as well get some free product out of the deal.
SJ: Totally! You’re doing great Greg, stretch run coming up. Who is your favorite character on The Cosby Show?
GC: I identified with Sondra because she was the most academically inclined of the Huxtable children. So her, I guess.
SJ: I liked Denise’s Army husband.
If you could run only one more race–any distance, any place, your fitness level at a place with which you’re happy–which one would it be?
GC: Hmm…good question.
SJ: Thanks!
GC: Assuming that I was able to train properly, I’d probably do another flat 100-miler, like Rocky Raccoon. Since I’ve only started two 100’s and only finished one, that’s a distance where I could still PR. (Pause) Plus, if you only get one more race, why not make it last as long as possible?
SJ: Good point, I agree! The following question was submitted by an SRC club member and fan, and it seems appropriate given your presidential status in the club. Boxers or briefs?
GC: If you must know: briefs.
SJ: Briefs, me too! Thanks to Patrick N. for that question!
Final question: Dirty Dancing or Pretty Woman? And show your work!
GC: Dirty Dancing. Patrick Swayze trumps Richard Gere for athleticism and non-sliminess, plus any soundtrack with “Hungry Eyes” and “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” is a winner in my book.
SJ: I agree! Plus Swayze looks like he’d easily best Gere in an ultra.
Nice work Greg, if you had worn it I would say you can take the mask off! It wasn’t a World Championship 100k, but I bet completing the Fleet Feet Fast Acting Speed Round was just as satisfying.
Getting back to the serious stuff, I’m fascinated by your time spent as president of the Seattle Running Club. Do you have any stories from that all-powerful position? Backroom deals with Brooks? Shady compromises with Nuun?
GC: Yeah, it’s a shame I can’t tell you about our super-secret contract work for the Department of Defense. Let’s just say that the future of the U.S. border patrol involves fewer guns and more runs.
I wasn’t entirely comfortable in my role as president, but I did have a few “It’s good to be king” moments. One was when I got an email from a guy working on ads for an upcoming exhibit on horror films at Paul Allen’s Science Fiction Museum. He needed to get some pictures of runners being attacked by a zombie and wanted to use SRC members as the runners. Vice President Van Pelt wasn’t so keen on the idea, but I thought, shoot, what’s the fun of being president if you can’t feed some of your constituents to zombies once in a while? So I encouraged club members to sign up.
A somewhat more serious example was the Fat Glass 50K last August. The idea grew out of a board meeting discussion about Beer Miles — those track races where people drink a beer every lap. We thought, well, *any* running group can hold a Beer Mile, but it would take a special bunch of loonies to put on a Beer Ultra. And, with the SRC kind of representing the lunatic fringe of the Seattle running scene, we figured that it was up to us to create such an event. And things blossomed from there, thanks mostly to the incredible generosity of SRC member Peter Kline, who hosted the race at his house.
SJ: Yes. I think the Fat Glass 50k may prove to be your shining legacy, I hope SRC can bring it back for a second round! If I may be so bold, could the Fat Glass 50k be the race Greg Crowther (mispronounced) returns to racing, if only for a day?! Could you handle six pints of craft beer in 4+ hours?
GC: At this point, I have neither the legs nor the liver to handle the Fat Glass 50K.
SJ: Yeah, maybe I won’t do it either. I see on your facebook profile picture, you look like you’re wearing some kind of lab coat. Are you a doctor?
GC: No, I’m a research scientist.
SJ: Ohh, a scientist! Cool! Can you answer this then? How did you get into being what you are now? I mean, I’m guessing if I asked 8 year-old Greg Crowther (mispronounced) what he wanted to be when he became adult Greg Crowther (mispronounced), the answer wouldn’t be “research scientist.” When I was 8 I wanted to be a pro baseball player. When I was 18 I wanted to be a pro baseball player. When I was 28 I wanted to be a pro baseball player. A few months ago I gave up on that dream and have since settled. But I don’t get the feeling any scientists have “settled” into their profession, despite the fact that their field of work is really hard and confusing and boring and hard and you gotta go to college and stuff.
GC: When I was 8 I wanted to be a pro baseball player too. The idea of becoming a scientist didn’t really take hold until college, when I realized that different academic disciplines have fundamentally different ways of exploring the world and figuring things out, and that the approach taken by the natural sciences–the scientific method–was especially compelling to me. In history, for example, there is no shortage of fascinating questions, like “What caused World War II?” But trying to answer that question in a rigorous, conclusive manner is really hard, because you can’t go back and re-create the world as it was before the war and experiment on it. I don’t recommend that, anyway. But science has this elegant cycle of devising a hypothesis, performing empirical tests of the hypothesis, refining the hypothesis, doing additional tests, etc. It’s a rigorous and powerful way of discovering things, but it’s also simple in a way. Even if you aren’t a genius, and can’t answer any of the big questions that everyone cares about, you can work on smaller questions that relate to the bigger ones, and make progress in that way. A distance runner’s “one step at a time” mindset is definitely helpful in science.
SJ: Interesting. Though didn’t we conclusively prove that the New Deal caused World War II? And I think the scientific method can definitely be abused by scientists with agendas, but I don’t want to get into that right now even though I’m sure you agree with me 100%. Moving on, what position did you want to play?! I wanted to be a first baseman who hit lots of homeruns at Candlestick Park.
GC: My childhood idol was Carl Yastrzemski of the Boston Red Sox, and he played first base in his later years, so I liked that position as well. And I liked pitching too. I was told that, as a lefty, I had a “natural curve ball,” though I don’t think it was unhittable or anything like that.
SJ: Yastrzemski? First off, how old are you?! And how could you be a Red Sox fan living in Seattle as a child as I presume you did?
GC: (Sigh) You presume incorrectly, as usual. I grew up in Vermont. I’m 39. Yaz retired in 1983, when I was 10.
SJ: Ohhh, ok! Vermont is pretty far away; did you move out here because you really love running in a 54-degree drizzle 11 months out of the year?
GC: I much prefer that to running in 5-degree snow and ice, but my main reason for moving here was to go to grad school in physiology at the University of Washington.
SJ: I agree! I think we’re about done here Greg, but I wanted to talk about one more thing. (Reads from card) Have you ever considered minimal running? Learning to run free with Vibrams? Thanks to the generous folks at Vibram Five Fingers, I can get you a pair of Vibrams to try–free!–for a whole week. I’m confident you will notice the difference, and join the revolution. Are you interested in taking your running to the next level?
GC: No, I’d prefer to stagnate at the current level. Thanks, though!
SJ: Ok, fair enough. I also have a couple 10% off coupons for an upcoming Tough Mudder. Would you be interested in being on my team?
GC: I’m afraid not.
SJ: Hmm. Ok. I’m sure I can find someone. Are there any questions you wanted to ask me?
GC: Not especially.
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It was awesome of Greg to hang out with me at his work and let me interview him. Thanks Greg! If any of you want to hang out with Greg in the immediate future, I have learned he will be at Crystal Mountain this coming weekend volunteering at the White River 50 mile (not racing, apparently). Tell him hello and maybe he’ll sing a couple bars of Wilson Phillips with you! You can also enjoy his blog at GregCrowther.com. He also twitters!
Call for Comments (from Joe)
Call for Comments (from Greg)
Call for Support (from Joe)
All photos of Greg & Joe: Terry Creighton
