I did the Quicksilver 50 miler in San Jose on Saturday. My first ultra. In fact, this was the first time I’ve ever done any kind of organized run that wasn’t the final stage of a triathlon.
Great race! Efficient check-in, high quality shirt in the swag bag, close-spaced aid stations staffed by friendly and helpful folks serving a wide assortment of appetizing goodies, capped off with a to-die-for BBQ. (Here’s a link describing the food.)
And the trail marking was incredible. The race is held in a county park that was formerly a mercury mining area. (Hence the name quicksilver.) Numerous old dirt mining roads from the last two centuries run up, down, over, and even under (think abandoned ore tunnels) the hills, criss-crossed with a bunch of single-track hiking trails.
Studying the course map reveals at least 57 trail junctions where it would have been possible to make a wrong turn, yet each and every one was clearly marked with chalk arrows. And at those potentially confusing spots where you had to turn one way early in the race and a different way later in the day, there was a volunteer on duty the entire time pointing the way with a smile and a word of encouragement.
With all that going for it this race does have an evil psychological twist. There is a 50K event held concurrently with the 50M that uses the same course. So at the 31 mile point, all of us 50 mile guys had to not only run right past the finish line, we had to endure the sight of all the 50K guys drinking beer and eating hamburgers.
And to make matters worse, the 4-mile section from the 50K/50M finish to the next aid station on the 50M course is probably the toughest of the entire race. Pretty much all uphill for 4 miles, with parts so steep that you almost had to grab onto something to keep from slipping backwards. Except most of the trailside vegetation was poison oak, of course. Interspersed with short downhill parts where your only choices were to either a) walk slow and hope that your feet wouldn’t slide out from under you thus landing you on your butt, or b) run fast and hope that death would come quickly if you missed a turn and hit a tree.
I knew this was a tough course and that I would be lucky to be able to hold an average 12-minute pace. Hah! Not even close. Talk about eating humble pie. However, I was pleasantly surprised to finish second in M60-69. My very first podium finish ever. Hot dogs!
And the guy who beat me? Boy, what a loser he was. The best he could do was to come in next to last in our age group.
Hey, podium is podium.
Dan
