The Bulldog Was Mad - 25K Recap

Preview Day: August 13, 2011
I have been training in the Santa Monica mountains for nearly 20 years now, but only in the past 3 years I have really begun to explore the truly exceptional Southern California trails - not only known for their beauty but their beastliness as well.  After one 25K in Malibu Creek in 2009, I developed a sense of awe and respect for the the Bulldog - a course that you can know but never master. 

My friend Ginger has set a goal of running 12 half marathons in 12 months in 2011.  When her ambitious goal was hampered by a lack of an August race, I offered up the 25K of Bulldog (15.7 miles) as an option.  Knowing that Bulldog is not a race you face blind, my friends Phil, Tony, and I took Ginger on a preview a few weeks ago.

I knew we were in for a day when the night before the run, Ginger asked "how much of the run are we previewing" to which I responded - "all 15.7 miles!"  Stunned, she showed up ready for the longest run she had done in a long time. 

The preview started with a wonderful fog and haze hanging over the valley.  Most people wrongly think that Malibu Creek is in Malibu - a beachside community along the coast.  But Malibu Creek is a good 2,000 feet uphill in the nook of the Santa Monica Mountains. 

Taking a slow preview means you have time to enjoy the sights without the pressure of time or the general push of the crowds.  Before heading up the 3 mile Bulldog climb, we stopped to admire the fresh paint job of the MASH jeep set out to landmark the home of TV's Korean War. 

And 8 miles in, we stopped at the top of the mountain to explore the man-made stone circle maze.  These sight seeing side trips did nothing to take away from Ginger's pre-run education, and she left our preview with a respect of the challenge that lie ahead on race day. 

Flash Forward:  14 days - August 27, 2011
4:30am - the alarm went off and I rolled out of bed.  In 3 hrs, Phil, Tony, Ginger, and I would be setting off from the parking lot to join almost 400 others on today's 25K - another 100+ braver souls set off an hour early to conquer the mountain TWICE.  I stepped outside at pre-dawn and noted the 67 degree temperature.  Today was going to be HOT.  No fog, no cloud cover, no hope for an easy ride. 

Shortly after arriving at the park, the sun peeked over the mountains revealing the splendor of our Southern California mountains.  All we could do was cross our fingers, focus our minds, and set off on our individual challenge to complete the race with integrity.  The first 2-3 miles swam along in a lovely fashion.  We all refrained from our usual "start too fast" mentality and settled into a nice rhythm.  Phil pulled ahead as is normal from the excitement of the day, but I hung with Tony and Ginger until we started to make our way uphill around mile 3.

By the time I reached the first aid station at Mile 4, while ready for a cold Coke and some pretzels, I was optimistic.  I was feeling good and my Benadryl at the starting line was holding off my typical dust induced wheezing that I have felt on previous runs.  From Mile 4 to 7 is an uphill hike that only true ultra marathon machines and little Asian women can handle without walking, so I settled into my usual power walking stride. 

About 6 miles in, another mile or so to go to the true summit of the day, I stopped and took a look down at my path behind me.  Folks were plowing up the hill, but more and more I noticed  that the rare patches of shade were dotted with racers stopping and taking a standing break.  I kept making my way up the hill, feeling the heat growing outside and within me.  A few times, I had to stop in the shade and will my heart rate to slow down just a touch.  But as long as I was still sweating and taking in my watered down mix of Vitalyte, I figured I would be fine.  At just shy of mile 7 I looked at my phone and noticed that at current pace I would reach the top at 1.5 hrs, putting me on par with my best finishes.  But 100 yards and another hill ahead, I realized that I wasn't sweating.  No moisture on the brow.  My arms were dry.  Not a good sign.  I soon came upon a group utilizing one of the larger patches of shade.  An experienced runner was helping her running mates gauge their temperature and giving them tips to cool down to ensure that they could complete the run. 

So I sat down.  Joined a dozen of my compatriots as we re-adjusted our strategies and focused on finishing.  A good 5 minutes of light hearted banter and consuming gu's and chew's past and then I set off for the last mile to the top of the mountain.  Finally reaching the top, I made my way the mile downhilll to the second aid station when I noticed that no one - not a single runner - was running down hill.  The heat had taken over and conquered our middle of the packers "finish in the top half" mentality.  Officially none of us cared and just wanted to finish. 

The aid station at Corral Canyon was heaven.  I spent 5 minutes getting sponge baths, chatting, eating, and refilling my 70oz Camelbak.  Once I knew that I was ok, I set off for the next segment - the downhill, but uphill crawl along the ridge.  The ocean taunted us from the West and a breeze helped to cool us down as we made our way.  2 weeks ago, I noted that the "bullfrog rock" was our final uphill - at mile 10, so I happily pointed out our turning point to any runner I saw along the route - especially those who thought they couldn't make it. 

From here it was 3 miles downhill to aid station #3.  Due to some unexplained rules of the race, Catherine - the best race crew on earth - was not allowed at second aid station, so I plowed downhill until I reached the bottom with a smiling Catherine who plied me with cold water and scones to get me through the last 2.5 miles of the run. 

After passing the last aid station there is a single track "up and over" hill that to a typical SM mountains runner is usually a little fun hill.  But after 3.5 hours and no shade, this hill was harsh and felt much harder than the mile that it was.  But I knew that the home stretch was in sight, so I sucked it up, took my last Gu and plowed up and over the hill until I hit the road to the finished. 

I had never been so happy to cross a finish line.  4 hours and 10 minutes after starting, I soon found out that the temperature had reached over 106 degrees on the trail this morning.  Yet despite the heat, every one of us quickly adjusted our focus and all did what it takes to finish.  Time flew out the window and not a person I passed on the trails cared about our time - we just cared about finishing. 

After I crossed the line, freed my feet from my shoes and replenished my blood alcohol levels, I saw a vision in pink pass my view.  There making her way to the finish line, over 5 hours after starting, was my buddy Ginger.  She ran that finish 1/4 mile like there is no tomorrow!

Bulldog 2011 is a day I will never forget.  I watched as a very reasonable 15.7 mile run with a 4,000 foot climb turned into the hardest thing I had ever experienced in my 40 years on this earth.  Like everyone around me, we focused, breathed, and conquered.  Much like the 2011 LA Marathon will go down on as the wettest marathon in history, Bulldog 2011 will go down as one of the most challenging trail runs in Southern California. 

We earned our medals today.  Here I am with Nadine, Ginger, Tony, and Catherine.  Phil (not pictured) completed the run ahead of all of us, despite his knee injury.  Typically after a day like this, we stop and reflect what is next.  Almost immediately after the run, I found out that I have won a free entry to the Catalina Eco Marathon on November 12, 2011.  I have circled this race with interest, and now that I have a guaranteed admission, I now know what my next marathon (#9) will be!  Yikes.  At least they "promise" me that it won't be 106 degrees in November!