Tag: Max Ferguson

SRC Member Race Reports – August 2018

Post author By Joe Creighton
Post date September 8, 2018

Once a month we’d like to showcase the races for members courageous enough to spend a few minutes filling out a Google Form, and until we get that sick shout-out from the CEO himself on Twitter or, preferably, Instagram®, we will *NOT* promote Run Gum!

First-placers, mid-packers, sweepers, we want to hear all the tales: heroism, zeroism, and everything in between. And as you see below, your submission can be as brief, or *long* as you’d like!

Are you racing this September? Probably! Here’s an incomplete list of “races” I accept:

Real races! (road, track, trail, relays, obstacle courses, chasing that teen around the track after his friend Todd dared you to race him)
Not really races(?) (stair climbs for cancer research, color runs, certain Mario Kart levels)
Strava CRs! (no bikes)
Strava CR attempts! (definitely no bikes)
Beer Miles (5% abv or even PBR beer miles!)
Beer ultras (Fat Glass is coming 9/22!)

Submit Your Race Report!

Let’s hand it off to AUGUST 2018’s, ONE BOSS HOSS and one other late hoss!
🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻

Max Ferguson

Member #: 1247
Race name: Beast of Big Creek Trail Race
When was this race? 8/4/18
How did you place?! I won
Race website: Shelton Harriers
*Your* website URL: I don’t know how
Race report:

The following is a transcript from the Press Conference following the Beast of Big Creek Trail Race, held in Hoodsport Washington on August 4th, 2018.

Max Ferguson: Thank you all for coming, I’d like to share a short written message and following we can have a Q and A session for all in attendance.

Transcriptionist note: there are 24 empty folding chairs in a seemingly random campsite at the Big Creek Campground. Max has set up a podium he brought himself complete with a name plate. At the time of “beginning” this “Press Conference” there appears to be one lone person occupying the two dozen chairs available.

MF: Firstly I want to thank my parents without whom none of this would be possible. Their years of dedicated frugality forced me to spend many days wandering aimlessly in the wooded areas of the Cascade mountain range and the sprawling forgettable suburbs of unincorporated King County. This wandering skill I found critical in my athletic endeavors later in life. Not necessarily in high school. Or in college. Or even after college, now that I think about it. But a shit-load later in life. Right about the time I was missing my athletic prime, and had maybe one good year left in the ‘ol kickers. Yes, that’s when that childhood aimlessness kicked in.

I also want to thank the many fans in attendance today. I know that races such as UTMB receive far more gushing oration over their raucous all day fan brigade. But for my money, the homegrown ones here are the absolute best.

Finally, Id like to thank Keith Laverty for letting me borrow his watch today, and my greatest of apologies to his wife Elisa for being unable to “snag some of those fiery hot KOM monster vert climbs” for his Strava account.

With that being said, I’m more than happy to answer some questions from the gathered media presence we have here.

Note: There is no possible way the now 3 people sitting in the 24 available chairs is official media. One of these people simply appears to be a tired hiker who cannot find her parked vehicle. Also in ‘attendance’ is an unattended child consuming an entire roll of fruit by the foot and drawing frantically in a book.

Lost Hiker: I saw you running down that very narrow steep section with all the loose rock! I tried my best to move out of the way, but you still nearly knocked me off the trail coming past. Was that completely necessary?

MF: I’m afraid it may have been ma’m. I was in hot pursuit of some “gnarly AF descending Strava segs” and needed to test out all the running skills that slow motion footage from Salomon TV can teach an over the hill athlete such as myself.

LH: Well, you clearly could have just tried being safer, this is a public trail.

MF: Danger is my middle name.

Note: Max now puts on a pair of sunglasses. There is an audible groan from the now growing crowd of rather annoyed hikers.

MF: You there with the backpack and the “Short girls rule” tee shirt.

Note: Max points to a host of hikers annoyed by his trail maneuvering antics, one of whom has hand raised.

Annoyed Hiker #2: Did you at least have fun out there?

MF: I had an absolute blast. This is by far one of the great events in the Pacific Northwest that no one knows about. This race always puts a big smile on your face. Never immediately after, but like 2-3 days later, you’re smiling.

AH#2: It seems preposterously dangerous, who would you possibly recommend this race to? I see multiple people fell this year alone!

MF: I think the real question is not who should do this race, but only to weed out those who absolutely should not.

AH#2: Soo…who shouldn’t? Sane people?

MF: Well, hobby horses would find commiting to the entire event difficult. Self-identified triathletes would have issue not being able to legally purchase a ride to the upper trailhead. Politicians would have difficulty expending any effort to either climbing or descending the mountain based on the current media narrative being dissected at the time. Children under the age of 5 are much too small and weak, which is no good. Children over the age of 7 have too many wits about them, also not a skill-set necessary here at Mt. Ellinor. Classic rock DJs are forever living in the past and would be continuously talking about how ‘mountain races USED to be much more extreme…’

AH#2: Those all sound excruciatingly specific. These sentiments have clearly been brewing under the surface for quite some time.

MF: …Also! People infatuated with buckles, and who presumably have ill-fitting pants. This may not be your cup of tea as I’d recommend well-fitting clothing, and no clothing adapters are provided for finishing.

AH#2: So what do the finishers get?

MF: I know there are some sweet socks up for grabs and a stuffed animal of rotating species is handed out to the top men and women.

AH#2: The men and women both run the same distance right?

MF: Yes both men and women get to equally risk major injury racing headlong down a boulder field from the top of a 5900 foot mountain. Both receive the same trophy and equal shot at respective ascent and round trip records.

AH#2: So, how long is the race?

MF: That reminds me! People who need to know how long a race is should not do this race. This race is kinda a half marathon, but it’s most certainly not.

AH#2: So, it’s shorter?

MF: No.

Annoyed Hiker’s Extremely Tall Husband: So, it’s longer?

MF: Well, it could be.

AHETH: This man is an idiot.

MF: Idiots! They should also very much think twice about doing this race. You kinda have to have your head on a swivel on this race. Idiots most certainly are probably a net negative in this racing environment. Which reminds me, people who purchase individual tickets to Dave Matthews Band concerts. Not sure racing full speed down a mountain is up your alley–this isn’t the 7.5 minute rhythmically-beige saxophone solo of descents.

Note: There is a smattering of applause on this particular point.

AHETH: Aside from verbalizing your own insecurities, was there any point to this random gathering? Were there any amazing performances in the race aside from your own self congratulations?

MF: Hmmmmm, there was a 59 year dude wearing Wal Mart specials and tattered shorts that threw down an ass whipping on some youngsters. That was pretty neat.

AH#2: So how are you going to celebrate this run today?

MF: I’m most certainly going to have some finish line beer.

AHETH: Ohhh, do they have an IPA?

MF: Thankfully…no.

Note Surprisingly, the annoyed short female hiker with the shirt from Hot Topic circa 2008 is nodding in agreement.

AHETH: But I like IPAs, what’s wrong with an IPA?

Note: His wife is visibly ashamed of her husband’s poor taste in beer.

MF: I dunno, I guess the last thing I want to drink after turning my legs and feet into hamburger is a beer brewed solely for the purpose of attacking your mouth with reckless and near tasteless abandon. I appreciate that they brought beer to a finish line that is…ya know…drinkable.

AHETH: I guess that’s a fitting response for a man whose initials stand for –

MF: OKAY, I think that’s all the time I have, I’ll see you all again next year!

Did iRunFar interview you before or after the race?: No
Race image(s):

Shoeless Joe Sez!

I understand imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but being loathed by annoyed hikers’ extremely tall husbands is kinda *MY* gimmick, Max?

“Note: There is a smattering of applause on this particular point.“

I find Max borderline intolerable in most instances (avoid him at parties, is all I’ll say), but I have to say this report…..kinda ruled? But really, do NOT engage with him in any social+public situation.

I told my gf that I set a personal goal of including a Freaks & Geeks gif in every month’s race report, and I’m kinda running out of time here. Ummmmmm…here’s me an hour after I stupidly bought Max a birthday lunch once back in 2014:

SPECIAL ‘LATE REPORTS’ SECTION FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE LATE!

Arthur Martineau

Member #: ??
Race name: White River 50
When was this race? 7/28/18?
How did you place?! ??
Race website: White River 50
Race report:

This race is a summertime classic it has been around for 26 years. This was to be my 13th year running this 50 mile ultramarathon. For my 13th finish in a row, I picked lucky number 13 as my race number. The weather was hot, but that’s what it’s like most years. There was a massive forest fire at the end of the summer last year which burned half of the first loop of the course. The trail crews did a ton of work on the trails to get them ready for the race, but they were still much rougher than usual. I previewed the first loop a few weeks earlier, so I knew what to expect.

It was a really lovely morning on race day Saturday. Scott did his standard race day briefing. I have no idea what he said; I haven’t listened to it in a quite few years. If he ever changes the course, I might be in trouble. The race started somewhat normal. I usually run the mostly flat 4 miles to the first aid station at a brisk pace. It’s cool at 6 am, so I like to get warmed up. About halfway to that first aid station (2 miles into the 50 race), I started to get some calf cramps. I expected to get some calf cramps during the run. My training has been about half of what it is typically this time of year. I didn’t expect to get them until around mile 20 or 30. I knew, no matter what, I had to get these 50 miles done. I stopped using my calves and slowed down just a little. I relied more on my hamstrings for a couple of miles, and the cramps went away. This is a technique I’ve used in long races many times before. The longer the race, the more I need to focus on using different muscle groups.

At four miles the first climb starts. My energy level was high, but I wanted to continue to hold back a little. I alternated running and hiking, but I felt like I was running a little more than most years. About 2 miles before the next aid station is where the burned out forest starts. The burned roots created holes in the trail. Thankfully all the fallen trees were cleared. It was about then that my hamstrings started to cramp. I should have seen this coming. I had been drinking a lot of water in the last few days. Looking back, I think my electrolytes must have been out of balance. So I stopped using my hamstrings on the climbs and flats, this worked. The cramps subsided. I was drinking a lot and sweating a lot and didn’t feel hot.

After the Ranger Creek aid station we climbed up onto the ridge, and the views were impressive. Mt. Rainier was in full view but so were the mountains in all directions. Running the ridgeline was rather uneventful, I only saw three of the frontrunners on the out and back. I started second guessing my pace. Was I going that fast? I didn’t think so. I made it to the turnaround aid station in about 2:50, that was a pretty average time for me. I took an extra second at the aid station to make sure I had everything and then headed back up toward the start.

It’s a rolling downhill all the way back to Buck Creek where the race starts. I didn’t feel as smooth or as fast as most years. I began to realize the second half of the day was going to be a struggle. I started to eat and drink on a faster schedule to fuel up for the second half. I went through the Ranger Creek aid station again and turned toward the highway. I was looking forward to getting out of the charred trees. The trail was riddled with holes from the forest fire for about a mile, then turned back into the buttery path I’m so used to running. I picked up the pace and passed three runners. I was quite surprised to see them as I felt like I was plodding along. I crossed back over the highway and went into the Buck Creek aid station. I filled up my bottle with some extra calories, instead of just water, and headed out around the airstrip.

It’s flat for a couple of miles, so I jogged easy, again trying to fuel more and digest before the climb. I continued to struggle with cramping on the uphills. I was alternating between the muscles that weren’t cramping at the time. I’m fortunate none of them fully locked up. I think it would have taken a while to stretch them out. At the Fawn Ridge aid station, I was careful not to eat very much. This aid station is in the middle of a long steep climb. I’ve been sick a few times just a 1/4 mile out of the aid station from the combination of heat, climbing, and too much food.

I did a lot of hiking from Fawn Ridge to Sun Top. It seemed every time I ran something would cramp. A few times even my quads began to twitch like they wanted to cramp. That could end my day. I tried to just give a good effort on the climbs and coast on downs. I was really running out of gas by the time I made it to Sun Top. Once again, the aid station crew were great. All day the volunteers have been very helpful. Either I looked terrible, or they were just having a great day hanging out in the beautiful sunshine.

I started down the road, walking. I walked for about a minute trying to psych myself up. Everything hurt, I had no energy, I just wanted to be done. The run down the road sucked, it was dusty and my legs hurt. I tried to drink every half mile, but I don’t really remember if I did. Trucks kept speeding past kicking up dust. I stopped a couple of times to let the dust settle. I was delighted to make that right turn into the woods at the last aid station.

My spirits were lifted, a little as I started my last leg of the race. If I could make it these last 6 miles without falling, my number one goal for the race would be met. I had a bad fall the previous weekend, and my hand was still recovering. If I fell on it again, I’d probably end up in a cast. I don’t have time for that. I started to calculate my time with how many miles were left. I figured out I still had a chance to be under nine hours, but I couldn’t take too many breaks. I had zero energy, so any slight hill brought me to a crawl. Without a single stumble, I made it out of the woods and jogged to the finish. My time was just under nine hours. I even managed to be fast enough for first place in the over 50 age group, so I get a cool picture from Glenn.

I look forward to next year. Everyone involved in this race does such a great job, I can’t imagine missing it. Maybe I’ll make it to 20 years like David Dutton!

Did iRunFar interview you before or after the race?: ??
Race image(s):

Shoeless Joe Sez!

“It was a really lovely morning on race day Saturday. Scott did his standard race day briefing. I have no idea what he said; I haven’t listened to it in a quite few years.”

Nice 😎

“About halfway to that first aid station (2 miles into the 50 race), I started to get some calf cramps.”

🤔 Calf cramps two miles into a 50 mile? I don’t know about you, but I’d have pulled the plug at that first aid station. Let’s see if you do the same!

“The longer the race, the more I need to focus on using different muscle groups. “

Pretty sure I said the same thing on my blog back in 9th grade after a particularly rough off-campus mile during P.E.

“I started down the road, walking. I walked for about a minute trying to psych myself up. Everything hurt, I had no energy, I just wanted to be done. The run down the road sucked, it was dusty and my legs hurt. I tried to drink every half mile, but I don’t really remember if I did. Trucks kept speeding past kicking up dust. I stopped a couple of times to let the dust settle.”

This promotional copy for the White River 50 Mile provided by Arthur Martineau!

“My spirits were lifted, a little as I started my last leg of the race. If I could make it these last 6 miles without falling, my number one goal for the race would be met.”

I’m only 38 years old and already my #1 goal at *any* trail run is to last 6 miles without falling 🙁

“I look forward to next year.”

How? Everything I’ve read so far reads like torture porn. 🤷‍♂️

“Maybe I’ll make it to 20 years like David Dutton!”

Is that a character from The Office?

Congrats Arthur! Only 350 miles til #20! That’s only like, umm…one Bigfoot 200 and an…average performance at a 48 hour track race!

Archived Member Race Reports

Tags Max Ferguson, Race Reports, Run Gum

Featured Race Reports

The Long and Winding Trail

Photo courtesy: Paul Nelson
So, I guess that race went pretty well. I’m not quite sure how I did that, but I’ll start at the beginning and explain how I got to where I am today. If you have something more important to do, I’ll just let you know now: it’s consistency. If you’re at work though, writing TPS reports, doing some crazy lab work (I’m looking at you Greg Crowther), or busy scoping out some nice real estate (Win…), feel free to kick your feet up for a minute and take a stroll with me down memory lane.

I can pinpoint the exact time I realized that people ran after college. It was early 2000s at Edmonds stadium. Lined up to run the 10k was two old dudes, some college guys, and the stands had maybe ten people. How or why I was there has slipped through the cracks in my memory, but there I was. I watched one of the older runners completely demolish the entire field–running under 30 minutes–at a time in my life when I was under the distinct impression that a 15 minute 5k was the limit of human achievement. At halfway, when the rabbit dropped out, I remember asking my assistant coach who the hell this guy was.

“Oh that’s Uli Steidl,” he said. “He is world class. I think he’s 40.”

My coach was correct about one thing and slightly inaccurate about the second detail. (Although to be fair I have asked a vast number of people about Uli’s age and only SRC members have gotten it right; everyone else just perpetually states “I think he’s 40.”) In any case, the memory of someone running THAT fast while not being sponsored or in school baffled me. How is it possible??? I didn’t really know, but I knew then and there I wanted to run after college. I never thought I’d be as good as Uli was, but I figured I’d give it a shot.

All through high school I had that image of post-collegiate glory bouncing around in my head. My high school coach, the venerable Jef Rettmann, gently explained, “Max, you’re never going to win state. The 5k just isn’t long enough for you. Wait ’til college though, the 10k is going to be your thing.”

So I kept at it.

In college the story was the same. My coach, the imposing Dave Warth, gruffly mentioned, “Max, you’re never going to win nationals. The 10k just isn’t long enough for you. Wait ’til you get out of college, the marathon is going to be your thing.”

So I kept at it.

After college, I tried the marathon. In fact, I might have even gotten good at it at one point. For a brief two month span through April and May of 2010, I honestly think I had that beast wrangled. But never tamed. I accidentally started in the wrong race in Vancouver that year, then ran back to the start after blasting four miles at five minute pace. The restart was no good, my calves blew to pieces, and mentally I was cooked. I spent two years trying to get it right and finally came to the realization “Max, you’re never going to win the Vancouver Marathon. The road is just too fast for you. Trails and ultras, that’s going to be your thing.”

So I kept at it.
Photo courtesy: Pacific Party Canopies
In April of 2012 I entered the Yakima Skyline 25k with hopes of dipping under 2:30. I came blitzing across the line in 2:15. In July I wanted to run 2:30 at the Chuckanut 30k, I stunned myself running 2:24. Finally, this past weekend, after splitting 2:24 for the middle 18 en route to a 3:47 Chuckanut 50k, I think it can be said I found “my thing.”

A huge thank you to all the people that have helped me along the way. My high school coaches Jef Rettmann, and Brett Johnson, without whom I never would have kept running as long as I have. I have been lucky enough to have had a phenomenal running family in high school and college, notably Sam Ahlbeck who never let me win a race, Joel Purcell who still probably think I’m going to hell, David Desmarais for beating me in the PE mile in 8th grade, Nate Lowe for arguing with me for every step of a 15 miler, Chad Byler for taking a huge risk allowing some freshmen on the C2C team, and Michael Hardbarger for taking me shopping in the middle of the winter that one time. I now find myself with another host of incredibly friendly and supportive faces, the Balanced Athlete peeps without whom I would be sleeping on the streets with a cardboard sign (“will tie shoes for money”), Seattle Running Club, without whom I would never have even tried trail running, my father Mike for refusing to carry me on hikes after the age of two, and finally my mother Susan for allowing me to drop the trumpet for track in hopes of wooing chicks with my athletic prowess.

As long as I have the support of people like this: I’ll keep at it.

Tags Chuckanut 50k, Max Ferguson

Featured Race Reports

The Summer of Max

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.

Tags Max Ferguson, Race Reports