Waking up in San Francisco

Thanks to another bout of productive insomnia, below is a quick recap of my 13-day trip to Europe for the Jungfrau Marathon (previously described here). Or, just skip to the photos.

Interlaken
Everything about my 5 nights in Interlaken was about the race, and for better or worse, the town didn’t offer much else in the way of distractions. This may sound harsh, but i found that it generally lacked personality or soul and there was an overarching touristy vibe that made me a little squeamish. And most unfortunate of all, the food was unremarkable to say the least (kitschy swiss and italian = lots of overcooked pasta and gobs of melted cheese), and was enough to drive me out of town as soon as the race was over. But the race experience and mountain scenery were absolutely amazing, and made this part of the trip a highlight despite its cultural and culinary shortcomings. One highlight: on my last day, I took the train up to the “Jungfraujoch: Top of Europe” (the highest train station in Europe, literally perched on the glacier between the Eiger and the Monch) with friends Zac and his wife Wieke.

“Top of Europe”. See more photos from Interlaken.
Lucerne
I didn’t know anything about Lucerne before I came to Switzerland but it seemed like a logical place to stop on my way south to Italy. As soon as I stepped off the train I knew I would like it. The city, like much of Switzerland and Europe in general, is a stunning combination of old world charm and modern efficiency. Fortified castles and crumbling city walls stood next to sleek glass and steel art museums. High speed bullet trains run adjacent to quiet cobblestone streets too narrow for cars and quiet enough for sleeping cats. I spent my two days in Lucerne walking through these quiet streets and along its beautiful lake shore, taking in espressos and pints of beer along the way. I went to a great IMAX film on the alps, visited the stunning Museum of Art, and ran up Mount Pilatus, which stands sentinel over the city.

Lake Lucerne. See more photos from Lucerne.

Lugano
After two nights in Lucerne I took the train south into the capital city of the Ticino canton: Lugano. This southern region of Switzerland shares a border with Italy, and the culture reflects this relationship as well. Gelaterias were on every corner (pistachio and chocolate are my all time favorite) and Italian is spoken instead of German. Like Lucerne, Lugano is situated on a beautiful lake (Lake Lugano) surrounded by mountains, and features a lovely “old town” where cafes and pedestrians occupy the cobblestone streets instead of cars. I spent only one night here as I was beginning to feel the draw towards Italy.

Locals playing street chess in Lugano. See more photos from Lugano.

Lecco
Lecco stole my heart immediately with its Mediterranean climate, vibrant café and restaurant scene, wonderful and inexpensive local wine, and beautiful people. It’s located on the southern tip of Lake Como in the northern Lake District of Italy. Beautiful green hills and limestone cliffs rise all around this part of the lake, and set the stage for the stunning Italian Alps further beyond.

I came here to run a sky race in a small town near Lecco called Pasturo. It’s a race I had thought about doing for years after meeting the race director, Luigi, at a different sky race in Europe several years ago. I knew it was a challenging course having studied the course profile, which looked something like a cardiograph gone haywire. But this year he offered a short distance version of the course, which went up and down only one mountain over a half marathon distance. Wooed by an attractive prize purse, I decided to give it a shot. Big mistake. I felt ok going up the mountain and was within 30 seconds of the leader at the top. But my legs were nowhere near recovered enough for the trauma I was about to face on the descent. After about 5 minutes of running straight down the mountain (in sky races, the descents are burly and take the most direct line down the steepest side of the mountain, with or without a trail), my quads were completely trashed. After 10 minutes, 6 Italians had blown by me and I was reduced to walking/shuffling with a painful grimace on my face. It was not pretty, and I ended up doing the walk of shame the rest of the way down to finish. Four days later i can still hardly walk! Lesson learned: do not run a sky race with a gnarly downhill one week after a marathon. Most of you reading this probably knew that already.

But the race was positive in that it brought me down to the beautiful Lake District of Italy where had never been to before. I took a boat taxi on Lake Como and visited several other small villages around the lake, including Bellagio and Veranna. No such thing as a cookie cutter home here: the buildings in these old towns radiate history and character with their crumbling plaster finishes and pastel colors. The stone streets are smooth and polished by the hundreds of years of footsteps they have weathered. I sampled some excellent Lombardian wine and sought out quiet trattorias with delicious local food (polenta and lake fish were common). I ate gelato every day.

Veranna on Lake Como. See more photos from the Lake District.

Zurich

On Sunday night I got a ride from Lecco to Zurich with a nice Greek guy named Christos I met at the race. I had to fly out of Zurich the next day, and this way I could see a little bit of Zurich before I left. Anyway, what is usually a 4.5 hour drive turned into a 10 hour saga in his old Russian made 4WD truck. It included 2 hours in horrible bumper to bumper tunnel traffic, getting completely lost somewhere in Switzerland in the middle of the night, sleeping on the side of the road because neither of us could stay awake, and finally getting stopped by two police cars at 1:00 AM only 5 minutes from his house, and Christos getting breathalized because they thought he was drunk driving. It was unreal!

But all ended safely and the next day I locked my bags at the train station and spent a nice morning walking through Zurich and eating a wonderful meal before catching my flight back home.

The Jungfrau Marathon / WMRA Long Distance World Championship

26.2 miles (nearly all uphill)
6000 feet elevation gain (nearly all in the last 12 miles)
4,000+ entrants

Pre-race: I arrived in Interlaken on Wednesday night after a long but uneventful 16 hour journey (San Francisco – Frankfurt – Zurich – (train) – Interlaken). On Thursday I checked out the top few kilometers of the course with friend and fellow racer Adam Campbell from Victoria, BC. On Friday I did an easy 25 minute run along the river. The race organization was kind enough to put me up in a hotel for 4 nights and provided meal vouchers each day. On Thursday and Friday nights there were athlete dinners, technical briefings, and opening ceremonies where I had the honor of being introduced on stage alongside Wyatt and three other top seeded male runners. A different song was played as each athlete was introduced and jogged down the center of the banquet tent to the stage: they played “Born in the USA” for me. It was awesome. Also, every country with a representative in the race had a flag hung at the ceremonies, which i think is pretty cool. The only downside to arriving early is that I had the worst jet lag I’ve ever experienced. Basically, whether I napped during the day or not, I woke up at 3:00 AM every morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. In fact, 6 nights into the trip, I still have insomnia which is how/why I’m writing such a long report on this race…

Race day weather: Perfect – clear skies and mild temperatures (50-60 F at the start, 40-45 F at the top)

Fuel: Ate a bigger than normal breakfast – oatmeal with dates, half of a hardboiled egg, a piece of toast, and about 2 oz. of black coffee. I ate three gels during the race and one gel 45 minutes before the start. Also made a concerted effort to drink two cups of water at every aid station.

Now, if you’re still with me, on to the race…

The Jungfrau Marathon is the most beautiful course I’ve ever seen. The race starts in Interlaken, with the first 5km flat in the city to maximize spectator support. The next 15km climbs gently (800 ft) up the Lauterbrunnen valley, along the river, on rolling singletrack, bike paths and paved roads.

4,000 or so runners filled the starting chute on the main street in downtown Interlaken, while the elite athletes warmed up in front of the starting line. Spectators, at least 3 or 4 deep, lined the sides of the street as far as you could see, and banners of previous year’s champions loomed overhead. About 5 minutes before the start, the announcer once again presented five of the top seeded male and female runners. As they called my name I jogged a few steps in front of the start and waved to the swarm of photographers, trying my best to hide how awkward I felt. I’ve never been a part of something with so much fanfare and hype, and I felt a little out of place. But that’s the great thing about racing in Europe – they are into it! Every race has prize money, helicopters shoot video for TV broadcasts, and people come out to watch it.

At 9:00 a loud canon exploded and we launched out of the blocks. Not getting knocked down was all I was thinking about at this point, as getting trampled by 4000 runners would not be the ideal way to start the race. The cheers from the crowd were deafening as they banged on the guard rails and screamed, and loud firecrackers went off all around us, only adding to the adrenaline rush that is natural at the start.

Two guys immediately went off the front to go for the sprint primes (cash prizes for intermediate points along the race), while a group of 14 or so collected to form the main pack. I tucked in near the back of this group while Jonathan Wyatt (NZ), Zac Freudenberg (US) and Daniel Kipton (Kenya) set the pace. We went through 5k in 16:40 and it felt like we were jogging; same thing when we through 10k in 34:10. However, at the 10k aid station I got detached from the group when I missed the water handoffs (downside to being in the back of the group) and had to stop and grab some water.

Without much road racing experience I am remarkably unskillful at grabbing a cup of water and drinking it while running 5:30/mile pace. I would say 95% of the water typically distributes itself across my face, eyes, up my nose or anywhere except the back of my throat, but the 5% I do manage to get down is accompanied by a large gulp of air. I figured slowing down to drink was worth it to make sure I got enough water during the early part of the race.

At this point I also started to wonder if it was smart to maintain the pace the group was going at. It felt easy now, but we still had 32km to go and 6000 feet of climbing. I decided to keep my distance and not surge to rejoin the group, but basically followed within 10-100 meters of them over the next 10km. The section along the river was very nice – a mixture of gently rolling bike paths, singletrack and roads.

At 20km, the course passes through the center of Lauterbrunnen where at least a 1000 spectators lined the course, and 74 (official count) waterfalls pour hundreds of feet from the steep canyon walls on either side. I saw a BASE jumper pull his/her parachute right above me at one point (and I read the next day that a BASE jumper had died right there the day before).

I could start to feel the gentle climb in my legs and the increased effort that it required, and it reflected in my time through the half marathon (1:15:55), about a minute behind the lead group now, and four minutes slower than what I ran on a flat sea level course in San Francisco in late July. But I felt that I was running the right pace knowing that the hardest was yet to come, and was counting on most of the guys in front of me dropping back once the real climb started.

After 25km, the course turns up the mountain and the real race beings. The steepest part of the race occurs between 25km and 30km where about 1,500 feet are gained. It is viciously steep here. At 30km, the course flattens out a bit and passes through Wengen, a small but cheerful car-less village perched on the side of the mountain.

Despite it’s small size, Wengen was host to the most exuberant, supportive crowd I’ve ever experienced in a race. Spectators were literally lining the street 10 deep on both sides, leaning over the guard fence, waving flags, blowing horns, ringing cow bells, cheering and pumping their fists in encouragement. Dozens of outstretched hands from kids awaited high fives. Meanwhile an announcer was screaming something in German over the speaker system but all I could understand were the sounds of “Gaaaah-len …. Bah-rellllll!!!” and “America!!”. As I ran through Wengen, still alone and in 11th place at this point, the energy of the crowd seemed to literally lift me off the ground and carry me through the town. It was like I was floating in the wind, and it felt like my entire body was buzzing. Who needs drugs to get high when all you have to do is run 5:00 pace through a small village in a mountain marathon? It was one of the most euphoric moments of my life.

The flat section is short lived, and after Wengen the course (mostly cinder trails and soft, narrow dirt roads at this point) continues to climb through steep pastures and tiny villages, and into a pine forrest. Cows and goats roam the pastures with bells clinking below their necks, lazily chewing on grass. Old farmers cutting hey with a sith would pause long enough to smile at you as you run by and say “hoppe! hoppe! hoppe!” (i.e. go! go! go!).

Soon after Wengen I passed one of the other top seeded runners – Daniel Kipton from Kenya. I couldn’t help but feel both pleasure and sympathy passing the Kenyan. Pleasure because he is obviously a great runner who is much faster than I am on flat terrain, but sympathy because he was clearly way out of his element. I also started to realize that I was executing my plan as hoped, as I was starting to reel people in, but I started to wonder if I had gone out too conservatively.

The last 5km are the second steepest of the race, and the most technical, as the course switches to single track with rocky steps, and climbs up along the ridge of the glacial moraine. At this point, you are running directly below three of the most famous 4000+ meter peaks in Alps: The Eiger, Monch, and the Jungfrau, each crusted in snow and blowing snow plumes off their summits into the azure blue sky. A bagpipe player dressed in a kilt signals that you are near the top of the climb, and only 1km remains, which is all downhill to the finish line at Klein Sheidegg (6857 feet).

With 5km to go I caught up to Zac Freudenburg, the other top seeded American runner who helped set the pace at the start. Zac is a great guy who I became friends with after he got 3rd place behind me in Pikes Peak last year. He has a strong road background and ran 2:21 in Boston this year to qualify for the Olympic trials. Given his fast marathon background and climbing abilities, I knew this would be a good course for him. But the strong early pace followed by the steep climb was clearly taking its toll, and he was suffering pretty badly. Still, he was kind enough to hold out his hand for congratulatory slap as I passed by him, and we offered each other words of encouragement. At that point I was in 8th place and feeling more and more confident with each runner I picked off.

I passed two more runners on the steep, technical single track heading up to the moraine ridge, and could see one other runner further ahead. The top was in sight and I knew 5th place was in reach. At this point however, my legs were feeling completely depleted and I was reduced to power hiking with hands on my knees for a few steps on every switchback. My arms started to tingle and was feeling light headed, a tell tale sign that I was right on the edge. But I kept up the cadence and passed my last competitor of the day just below the bag pipe player to move into 5th place. As it turns out, he was a defending champion (in 2000) and runner up last year.

As the trail crested the climb and turned down for the last kilometer towards the finish, I felt the thrill of completing the race. My quads felt like jell-o at first but soon adjusted to the downhill and I was able to sprint down to the finish in good form. The two race directors (who had been following the race by car or motorcycle along the course) were the first to greet me across the finish line and congratulate me. Hot shower, massage, and beer and chocolate immediately followed (yes, at least the last two are available on most mountain tops in Europe).

I am happy with my performance. I wouldn’t call it a breakthrough performance by any means, but I ran tactically and executed my game plan. It’s hard to have a goal for a mountain course you’ve never seen before, amidst competitors you have never met. There are so many unknowns. The climbs were certainly much steeper than I expected, for example. But once the gun goes off you let go of expectations and just compete the best you can. I ran within the means that my training afforded, played my strengths (climbing, endurance), and tried to pick off as many people as possible at the end. If I have any regrets it’s that I have a sinking suspicion that I didn’t leave it all on the mountain. I felt a little too good throughout the race, particularly at the end, and might have let up too much after 10km. Something to remember for next time I suppose. I’d like to do the race again, now that I understand the course a lot more, and know exactly how to train for it.

Above all, the entire race was just an awesome experience. The support and organization from the race committee was beyond expectations and the crowd support was inspiring. And the three hours I spent running below waterfalls and alpine peaks and alongside glaciers was totally surreal. It truly is one of the most beautiful marathon courses in the world.

Finish: 5th Place overall, 3:11:05

Course record holder, three time Olympian, and five time world mountain running champion Jonathan Wyatt won as expected in fairly convincing fashion. Two Italian runners placed second and third, and a tiny Mexican runner got fourth. Zack Freudenberg ended up a very solid 8th, and my friend from Canada, Adam Campbell, rounded out the top 15.

Me, Zac F. (8th), and Jonathan Wyatt (1st) at the awards ceremony

Click here to see some photos of the race

I met some friends on Saturday for a leisure afternoon in The Mission, one of the sunnier parts of the City. Michael is a friend who just returned from a 3 week climbing trip to Peru, and his friend Josh recently moved to The City from New York. Meanwhile, my friend Georgia just moved to the Bay Area from Boulder. What better way to join a bunch of friends than people watching in Dolores Park - the people watching capital of the city. There is always some kind of drama going on here and saturday was no exception.

At about 4:00 in the afternoon while we’re just lounging in the grass, a troop of bicycles comes parading into the park. At first i thought it was the critical mass ride, but that’s on the last friday of every month, so this was something else. They stopped in the middle of the park and start unloaded things off the back of their bike trailers. Within about 5 minutes, they have a full blown outdoor concert set up and an indy band starts belting out tunes. We went over to check it out, and it turns out we had stumbled into the First Annual Bicycle Music Festival. A dozen or so bands traveling to 5 venues in the Mission, all on their bikes, including equipment. And the best part is, they even use specially rigged stationary cruiser bikes to power the speaker system! It was awesome.

Later that night we went to a biker bar (this is SF so when i say a biker bar i don’t mean Harley’s, i mean the other bike culture - fixies and cruisers) called Gestalt, which happened to be the final stop of this festival. This place is so cool; at least 25% of the bar is dedicated to bike racks so you can park you bike inside while you nurse your pint of frothy ale. Or, for a few bucks more, you can have your beer poured into a glass mug the size of a small barrel. Meanwhile, a vocalist, flute player, bass player, and percussionist produced some loud noises that managed to somewhat resemble hip-hop music. It was so bad that it was good. But the fact that this raucous, gritty music was being powered by a stationary cruiser bike pedaled by a transgendered woman with really bad make up on somehow made it fantastic.

It was a classic day in The Mission, where there’s never a dull moment. I was checking out the photo gallery on the Festival’s website and found a few pics of us - Georgia and Josh took a few turns riding the cruiser near the end of the night.

I spent two amazing July/August weekends in the Lake Tahoe area. I had always heard about Tahoe for its skiing, but never realized what a summer paradise it is, especially when coming from the foggy anti-summer of The City. I did some great high altitude training runs (the lake is at 6000 ft), won my second race of the year (2 for 4 now!), paddled around the lake, and found some great swimming holes with my friend Bill.

A few months ago when i was posting a lot on my blog, a friend of mine in Boulder told me: “i can tell how much you’re running based on your blog activity”. At first i blew him off, but now i realize he was probably right. For the last three weeks or so, i have finally found my groove in training, and i’m feeling healthy, strong and injury-free for the first time all year. It feels awesome, and i’ve only got six weeks until my big race, so i’m pouring it on.

But i finally found the time to post some pictures from my mom and sister’s visit out here in early July:

Unlike my normal alarm clock, this one jolted me awake without delay, and for about 10 seconds i considered opening up my window and crawling out onto the fire escape.  Then i went back to sleep.  The scariest part of an earthquake is always the few seconds after,  when you’re holding your breath and wondering if a second, more powerful wave is about to come.  This was a 4.2 magnitude tremor, with the epicenter about 2 miles northeast of Oakland.  Still, it was big enough to set off car alarms out on the street and give my bed a good shake!

After searching endless craiglist listings in the past week to replace my stolen commuter bike, i found my perfect set of wheels at local bike shop in the Mission this weekend.

All along i had been thinking i would get a funky little single speed road frame. They are light, nimble, responsive, and retro. Sounds perfect, and it would have been the easy choice if i didn’t mind conforming to what all the other 20-something hipsters are riding around town. But i don’t consider myself a hipster by any stretch (i still include color in my wardrobe, after all), and certainly not a conformist, so i started exploring other options. Plus, the streets in SF are too rough for road bikes, in my opinion. What with all the potholes, cable car tracks (perfect width to lodge a road bike tire in), and unexpected street debris to contend with. I decided to go with a single speed mountain bike frame, so that i can continue to bomb down hills in comfort, and most of all, with the confidence that i will not blow out a tire at an inopportune time. And why single speed? Well, if you have to ask, then you probably wouldn’t understand the answer. But let’s just say i suck at bike maintenance, and it’s several fewer parts to keep tuned.

Meet my new commuter: the KHS Solo One. It is a sweet ride.

I can also take it to the hills of Marin and do some sick single speed mountain rides if i’m really feeling old school. But in the meantime, i swapped out the tires with some bombproof Kevlar-lined slicks, for my pavement rolling pleasure.

I also asked them to swap out the quick releases on the seat post and wheels with an allen wrench nut to to give seat and wheel thefts one extra step before they steel them. Oh yeah, and i got a Kryptonite U-lock. Take that slimy bike thieve suckas!

I raced one mountain biking season on it my sophomore year in college.

And when it became too heavy and out-of-date for that, it gracefully accepted its conversion to single-speed-commuter bike status.

And now my dear Gary Fisher Hoo Koo E. Koo enters an afterlife of sorts… may it ride in peace.

It’s funny to look back… i rode it as a commuter bike for 4 years in Boulder; to work, to the gym, to trailheads, to lunch, to friend’s houses, and i never locked it up.  I just had this trust that nothing would happen to it.  And now, after only 5 months in SF, it gets stolen while locked up directly in front of the movie theater entrance on a crowded street.

Welcome to the city.

“Ergo, I cannot buy a delicious home in San Francisco. Ergo, I am screwed forever”

Mark Morford pretty much sums it up …

http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/gate/archive/2007/06/15/notes061507.DTL

On Friday night, three of us piled into Michael’s old Subaru Loyale and headed for the mountains. It was a weekend filled with amazing camping spots, long runs, alpine climbs with snowy approaches, hot springs, and even some live music at a gas station.

Friday night (after arriving in Yosemite at 12:30 am), Michael and Pete started climbing East Buttress of Middle Cathedral while i slumbered on a beautiful rocky ledge overlooking the Valley and El Cap. They weren’t the only ones climbing at night; looking across the Valley at El Cap i could see several headlights creeping slowly up the sea of granite. An amazing sight for sure.

Saturday morning, while Michael and Pete were still climbing, i ran from the Valley up to Tenaya Lake (~16 miles/4000 ft elevation gain) where i rendezvoused with my friends around lunch time. Later in the evening we drove down to the East side of the park, with a stop in Lone Pine, my new favorite small town in California. In Lone Pine, you can get great coffee and pastries at the Latte Da, fresh handmade burritos at the general store, and listen to live bluegrass music and eat fish tacos at the Mobile station. After a pitcher of margaritas and a hot meal at the Mobile, we headed to the hot springs for a soak and to crash for the night.

On Sunday we climbed Bear Creek Spire, easily one of the best alpine climbs i’ve ever done (right up there with the Matterhorn). See pictures for how that went.

Monday we spent a leisurely morning in Lone Pine, drinking coffee and chatting with tourists from Amsterdam who on their way to San Fransisco (we gave them an “insider” list of places to go) . Finally, Michael and I trotted up to Cathedral Peak for a final weekend climb before heading back to SF. It was an excellent way to spend the holiday weekend.

As usual, the pictures tell the real story.