A few weeks ago (nearly published this the week after, then forgot about finishing it...) I ran the Tushar Mountain 70km outside of Beaver, UT. The race runs through the wild and scenic Tushar Mountain Range and covers ~3700 m of climbing (~12000 ft) at an average elevation of 3000 m (~10000 ft). If it's not the climbing that makes this race so difficult, it's being at such a high elevation.
This race was many things to me. It was a return to a course I had run previously in 2019 where I did NOT preform well. It was, similar to the Ogden Marathon, a continued boost in confidence for my health and return from injury. It was practice and preparation for The Bear 100, which will be my first 100 mile race at the end of September. And lastly, it was a celebration.
When I ran this race in 2019, I was absolutely crushed as I crossed the finish line. I had not run as quickly as I had hoped. I had not eaten nearly enough food nor drank nearly enough water - both which resulted in GI issues and intensified altitude sickness. However, what left me feeling the most crushed, was my inability to enjoy the race; to embrace the challenge of the course, to cherish the people I was with, and to appreciate where I was.
The Tushar Mountains are unlike any other in Utah. They're big, rugged, open, and secluded. As you drive on I-15 in either direction, you just barely catch glimpses of Baldy Peak and Mount Belknap, which top out at 3695 m and 3699 m (12123 ft, and 12137 ft) respectively. Even knowing these mountains exist is a rarity - running through them is a marvel.
Although I was disappointed with the outcome of 2019, I knew it was a learning experience. I saw where I had gone wrong, and I felt like I could correct these things to better my next experience. I always knew there'd be a next experience, I just didn't know when. I wasn't comfortable racing in 2020 due to COVID, so I eagerly signed up in 2021. Then injury struck, and I had to defer my race entry to 2022.
I started really getting excited for this race in June. I had recovered from the Ogden Marathon, and had begun working with my coach to build towards The Bear. Most importantly, my confidence towards running was growing. After a year full of challenges, I for the first time felt comfortable with the place I was in. I was healthy, excited, and above all, appreciative of what I felt like I could do physically.
My coach and I decided that I would approach this race as a training run for The Bear. This proved to be very helpful in that it eased any sort of pressure and expectations I had of finishing. The only outcome could be the one that unfolded on race day. I could use mistakes as lessons learned and make corrections for The Bear. I could take note of what worked well and try to repeat them again, and again, and again.
The day before the race, I drove down with my friends Meredith and Rosemary and met up with 20+ other runners and friends from Salt Lake to camp. Although I only knew a handful, I was quickly welcomed by some of the wonderful women representing Women of the Wasatch (WoW) who were down there to race, pace others who were racing, or simply cheer runners on. WoW's presence at this event was impressive and inspiring, and it felt good to be around so many other excited runners.
When I woke up on race day, I felt calm. I was excited, but there were no "race day jitters". I felt like I was exactly where I wanted to be. The race started at 6:00am, and I quickly settled in to a pack of 3 runners; myself, Billy, and Dom. We spent the first ~14.5 km step and step, chatting about what we do, where we run, what we like to eat while running, and how beautiful the course was. On the climb up Delano Peak, the high point of the entire race, and the tallest peak of the Tushars at 3710 m (12169 ft), Billy and I stayed together and we started to separate from Dom. I saw Dom at the finish line, and he continued on to have an excellent day!
Billy and I were within eye sight of one another, and for the most part together, for the first ~50 km of the course. Considering we didn't know each other before the race, and both were without pacers, it was a nice amount of time to share with someone throughout the race. It helped the distance come easy, and even a simple high five at aid stations kept the excitement high. I didn't hit any lows during this stretch, and maintained a steady diet of gu's, Clif bars, Untapped maple syrup, Bobo bars, and almond butter. My body was feeling good! Billy and I ran the entire downhill section from Bullion Pasture to Miner's Park together (km 35 to 47), taking it easy and chatting, gearing up for ~990 m (3250 ft) climb that the course takes you on at km 48.
Coming out of Miner's Park Aid Station, I stopped briefly to use the bathroom and it wound up being the last time I saw Billy. He had a strong final third of the race, moving all the way up to 45 minutes ahead of me. An additional outcome of sharing those miles with Billy, is that I will be pacing him at the Wasatch 100 in a couple weeks! This was just another highlight of the strong sense of community I felt during my weekend in the Tushars.
After separating from Billy, I was able to once again settle in to my own and specific "100 mile pace". The climb out of Miner's Park felt smooth. I didn't even think about moving any faster than a strong and sustained hike, and continued my previously mentioned diet. I heard thunder in the distance, but never needed to grab my rain jacket. It wasn't until I got back to the finish line that I learned many of the runners experience hail and heavy rain.
I was determined to not just feel good on the climb though, but finish strong over the final 13 km stretch of the race between the last aid station and finish line. It was this exact section of the course that did me in when I raced in 2019, and I did not want to repeat that.
Pulling in to the last aid station, I had lost all desire for any of the sugary, syrupy, or chocolatey foods I had in my pack. I made a mental note of adding something savory to my quiver of foods for The Bear and future training runs, and kept on pushing. I was optimistic I'd be able to hang on. While the previous 58 km had been a series of big climbs followed by big descents, the last 12 km felt more like a roller coaster. It packed a series of ups and downs that might not stand out on an elevation profile, but can really tear your quads apart, especially that late in a race.
I once again found a new pack of runners - this time it was one woman racing and her pacer, and we got to chatting right out of the aid station. I not only found this to be a great way to maintain my 100 mile pace, but I also really enjoyed these two's company. Two new friends from Salt Lake made.
11 hours and 30 minutes after (11:28:52 official) I started the Tushar Mountain Race, I returned back to the finish line. I was greeted by several members of WoW, my new friend Billy, and at least 4 grilled cheeses. I was thrilled. I ran 1 hour and 10 minutes faster than I had in 2019, but more importantly, I was able to enjoy the entire race experience. While the last 6 km of the course still managed to eat my quads alive, and I certainly felt the effects of not eating, I was incredibly satisfied with my ability to appreciate everything this course provided.
I got what I came for. I was able to go to my coach with a full list of things that went well, things I can improve on, and a high level of excitement for what the next 8 weeks entail ahead of the Bear. Something I was not expecting however, was the sense of community. Being surrounded by so many others from Salt Lake, and having run this race previously, it felt somewhat like a home course to me. In professional team sports, this concept is called home field advantage. The players of a home team get to play in their own team's arenas, surrounded by their own fans, and the comforts of their own homes to sleep in. As I raced through the beautiful scenery of the Tushar Mountains, I found comfort in a similar sense of familiarity. I knew this place. I knew these people who cheered for me at each of the aid stations. I knew that once I finished, I'd have a moment to myself, and then I'd get to sit down and cheer in those runners behind me. It felt like home.
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