We all lined up in the dark on the street outside the Posse Shack, waiting for an announcement, when suddenly, everyone in front of me started running. It was a hurry-up-and-wait, as we all squeezed together through some narrow passages to get down to the Los Alamos canyon trails. It was still night, and I had a hard time figuring out where we were going, so I just followed the line of runners in front of me and the flour markers on the trails.

During this relaxed first part of the race, I had a great time, running, walking some, everything felt dialed in. All the "phantom" aches and pains that trouble me before a race had disappeared, and the sun began to rise. The weather was perfect for me. I had seen Naresh, Matt, Joe, John, Diana, and Mike Sawyer on this part of the course, but I was determined to run my own race. Diana, John, and I all hit the first aid station at about the same time - I took advantage of their supply of Hammer gels, and then hit the first major climb of the race.

The views from this climb were spectacular, and I felt great. It was easier than Pine Top in the Guads, the only place this year I had been to in the mountains. That was a big difference from last year's training, my mountain trips and races lined up in a nice progression so I was able to train right into the Grand Teton 50-miler. What I at first thought was the top was not, and Diana corrected me by pointing to the ants marching up a wall in the distance. Even that climb wasn't terrible though, and we got to a windswept aid station that had been supplied by foot with water and treats. I was still feeling pretty good, and the next part of the run was beautiful, along a creek. I'd been keeping an eye out for certain "landmarks" on the course, like the cliff, and one of them was the ladder on a small dam. This turned out to be no big deal, and I took a few pictures while I was out there.

The trail wound up through to Caballo Base, where the volunteers had camped out the night before. Everyone had to go up a 4 mile out and back to the Caballo Top. This is where my race times started to fall apart, partly because of altitude, and partly because I never got a rhythm going on the uphill. The trail is very narrow and steep, and uphill runners had to step aside for the downhill runners. In addition, the fast 50k'ers were coming up behind me, and I would have to pull over to let them pass. I'd never felt as bad in a race or run as I did on top of Caballo Top, where the volunteers had set up a camera to take photos. Even the golden retriever at the top wasn't enough to get my mood back in order, as I did a quick loop around, posed for a photo with Diana, and then ran to get back into the safety of the woods away from the cold wind.

Coming back downhill off the top should have been easy, but I was scared about the steepness of the descent. On a similar descent in the Skyline-to-the-Sea race in California, I tore a calf muscle by speeding down a 20% grade in pursuit of a PR. This was now ok, but I could feel a "twinge" on the descent where it healed, and I backed off immediately. This left me in pretty poor spirits, because I knew there were lots of gnarly descents on this race.

One of the best parts of this race was seeing everyone from my Rogue training group in the 50-mile and 50k races on the out-and-back - it was great to say hi to everybody, and most seemed to be enjoying themselves!

Towards the bottom of the descent, right before the aid station, the trail ran along the bottom of a small gorge, with a tiny creek flowing next to it. I had zoned out a little, when I heard what I thought was a waterfall - it was a black bear, who had just run across the trail and ran onto the other side of the canyon wall, where he now sat, growling at me. I'm not too familiar with bears in the wild, but they are one of the things I am scared of, and I thought I remembered you weren't supposed to run away from the bear, as he would think you were prey. I stopped for a short time and took his picture, and yelled "Hello" at him.

A 50k'er I didn't know was zooming down the trail, with his Ipod on. I yelled at him to try and get his attention that there was a bear right there, but he had his Ipod in and didn't notice. Doesn't seem like a smart idea to me in the mountains to have an Ipod, but whatever. The next guy had the same respect for bears that I did, and we took off down the trail from the bear together, safety in numbers and all that. I probably overreacted, because he was a black bear and not a grizzly, but he was growling at me and seemed pretty mad at the runners for ruining his peace and quiet that morning.

I should have stopped at the Caballo Base aid station and gotten my race back together - I had plenty of time to take ten minutes out, but I didn't, and that was definitely a mistake. I told myself I would stop at Pipeline where I had a drop bag, a little further down the trail. Unfortunately, what I didn't realize was that there was a nasty switchback climb between the two aid stations, and I really dragged down on this stretch. I caught up with a few more Texas runners on that segment, but my legs were fried at the top of the ascent. There was a nice jeep road to run to the aid station, but I couldn't get a rhythm going. It was about 5 and a half hours into the race when I hit mile 17, and there were still two major ascents. I wasn't sure how I was going to make up the time to hit the 36 mile/12 hour cutoff, but I also wasn't going to stop at mile 17.

After sitting down in a chair, eating some cookies and drinking some coke and putting on a long-sleeve shirt, I felt ready to take on the next challenge, which was an eroded cliff that fell into the caldera. I'd been advisor to go down scree on my heels, but when I tried this, I promptly landed on my butt. I stayed low and went down the rest on my rear, using the trees to control my descent. A runner behind me kicked a rock down the cliff, which missed my head by a few feet, "Sorry!" came from the runner.

The next section was fantastic - a jeep road through the caldera was the only sign of human presence I could see. I made up some time on the downhill jeep roads, but I still rolled into the 21 mile aid station at 7 hours. I asked them about support on the course, and they said there would be a mountain bike sweep, and that I wasn't the last one out there, so I felt much better about continuing. The next section was 8 miles to the Pajarito Aid Station at mile 29. The course went up and over Cerro Grande, but not on existing trails. We cut cross-country across the caldera grass, where there were lots of interesting piles of scat to identify. The path climbed up to a forest on the flanks of the mountain, which didn't look too steep from where I was. Unfortunately, once I was in the forest, the path then climbed up a pile of loose boulders. All I could think about was that rock climber who got his arm stuck under a rock and had to saw it off after two days of being trapped. I could see at least one runner behind me, but I was still prety cautious. Once across the scree, there was a section of loose dirt in the forest that was now a tramped-in path that I followed to an open meadow on a false summit of Cerro Grande. I found a nice flat rock in the sun to lay on and regain some energy. Laurie Underwood caught up with me (she was the runner I had seen behind me), and we fell in talking. Two other runners passed us as we discussed the day, but we quickly passed them to the summit of the mountain. At the top, we took in the views and headed down, but my achilles tendon in my right leg flared up terribly and I had to stop. At first I thought I would have to limp in to the aid station (6 miles away), but I was able to work on my leg and fix the problem with five minutes of stretching and kneading. At that point, I decided to walk into the 29 mile aid station and drop out, rather than continue to the 36 mile mark and get pulled. I didn't want to get any more injuries in a race I was already not going to finish.

The trail down from the top was a little worn in by now, but still not a path. It was steep and I took my time. After a while, it came out to a meadow where a mountain biker doing sweep saw me and asked if I was ok - Laurie had told him about me, as I asked her to tell the aid station I had achilles problems. I told him I was ok, but just going to walk it out and be conservative. I asked him how far we were, and he said five miles to the next aid station.

This section of the course was completely runnable, but I didn't really have it in me. I walked in along the stream, and eventually the aid station appeared around a corner. This seemed to take forever. They had a keg of home-brew raspberry wheat beer there, which I noticed after asking the aid station volunteers (who were completely cheerful and supportive) for a Mountain Dew. I canceled my order, and got a small glass of beer instead! This aid station was right off the road, so I got a ride back to the start/finish, where I saw a lot of my friends finish their 50K and 50 mile races.

All in all, it was a great day for running, a great day to be out in the mountains, and I didn't get seriously injured or eaten by a bear. I'm disappointed that I didn't finish the fifty mile race, but I'm not disappointed that I tried.