Early June, 2015
"Hey Jacob, you should come run this Midnight Sun Run 10K with us!" my friend Scott said, as we climbed together at Ascension bouldering gym in Fairbanks, Alaska. "I don't run though!" I said, and Scott laughed and said something along the lines of he doesn't either, not anymore. "When is it?" I asked, and found it was that weekend.
I figured, what the heck? Why not? I'll give it a try.
I went home, ran a mile around my neighborhood, and didn't die. But I sure didn't have fun. The next night I ran two miles, and again didn't die, or have fun. So I signed up for the race and showed up at 10pm on Solstice night.
The air was electric, full of people looking far more prepared than I was, wearing sponsored gear and fancy shoes, spandex, costumes, and generally confident. I was not, but I toed the line and went for it.
I didn't know about pacing. I didn't know about running form. I think I wore a long sleeved shirt, and was hot the whole time. There were a couple aid stations, where I tried to run and drink water. It didn't work, so I just walked while drinking water, and then ran when I finished the water.
I ran the whole time, except for the water breaks. I sure wasn't fast, but I pushed through and finished in a time of 51:45, just barely out of the top 10%.
Someone told me that was a pretty good time for my first run ever, and that statement started a vicious cycle in me that is still spinning.
Fast forward a couple years to September 2017, at the 55th Annual Equinox Marathon in Fairbanks.
I had run the Midnight Sun Run a couple more times, and gotten slightly faster, and ran a couple 5K races, and a relay leg of this marathon the year before.
The Equinox Marathon is almost a holiday in Fairbanks. Hundreds of people show up to run, young and old, with many people having run it every year since they were kids. Hundreds more show up to cheer on the runners, offering food, water, and even beer at various points along the course, in addition to the multiple sponsored aid stations.
The course ranges from grassy fields to smooth singletrack to rooty doubletrack to gravel roads, and even some pavement miles. Oh, and there's 3,285 feet of uphill and downhill. So, it's no cakewalk.
Check out the course here.
I had returned from a trip to the Czech Republic about three weeks before the race, and started in heavy on my "training" as soon as I could. I met my friend Daniel V, who I ran the relay with the year prior, and we ran the course from UAF campus in an out and back fashion most weekday nights, starting with 8 miles, and then 10, 12, and 14. I increased distance too fast, and hurt my feet. I took a week off of training, and read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall while I was hurting. Born to Run inspired me like no other! After a rest for a week, I got in a couple more 8-12 mile runs, and then ate carbs like a madman.
It's so much fun to run with a bunch of excited runners on a difficult course. I always start out too fast because of this. The course starts with a steep run up a sledding hill before settling into 8 miles of flowy narrow soft trails through some beautiful woods. It's so fun that you forget all about your desired pace, and just keep up with the front runners who are faster than 8 minute miles.
Reality comes crashing in pretty hard when, at mile 9, you start up Ester Dome, which is 3 miles of steep terrain, not always runnable. At mile 12 it flattens for a bit and then you enter the out and back, which is long hills up and down to a turnaround point, where you backtrack for a couple miles. You see who's in front, and who's behind you. It's a great opportunity to cheer on friends and people who are struggling.
At mile 17 you start down a very steep trail known as "The Chute," (There are usually paramedics waiting at the bottom for those who went out too hard) and then settle into a gradual downhill for the next 7 miles or so. This is painful for most runners, since we've been running uphill for the past few hours. Somewhere around mile 21 you hit pavement, and this is especially painful for me after running in dirt for the past 21 miles. Pavement. Downhill pavement. Ouch.
Anyways, this is the home stretch! 3 miles along Goldhill Road feels like 10, with small rolling hills and narrow shoulders and aching everything. With two miles to go, you cross back onto the UAF trail system and go up a couple more hills, and then downhill to the finish line! It's fun to try to sprint out the rest of your energy with everyone cheering you on, and you're on a flat grassy field, but usually there isn't much left in the tanks.
I finished in 4:39, just outside of the top 25% overall. Man, that was tough. But wow, it was fun!
It took a large amount of mental effort to complete, and when I was finished, while physically spent, I still had emotional energy left. I could've pushed another few miles.
Remember that vicious cycle? Finishing the Equinox Marathon spooled it up even faster. What next?
Enter the 2018 Angel Creek 50 Miler. I don't know where I heard about it, but it looked super fun, and covered some trails I had hiked on before out by Chena Hot Springs. I figured if I could run 26.2 miles in under 5 hours, I could probably cover 50 miles on foot within the generous time cutoffs. My aim was to get to the mile 40 checkpoint by the cutoff, and if I did that then I'd just finish as able.
My friends Scott and Daniel V had me over and then tried to have an intervention of sorts. "We're just worried about you, that you might be getting in over your head." I responded that nothing was wrong with trying, I was pretty sure I could do it, and if I couldn't, well, there were lots of bail points and support. They grudgingly let me do my own thing.
Angel Creek 50 Miler. 12,600' of climbing, and 12,000' of descent. Mostly rough trail with rocks, steep climbs, descents too steep to run, and several miles of brush too thick to run. This race was put on by the late Drew Harrington, George Berry, and Karen Taber.
I made a plan, picked a pace that would get me through, and practiced a couple times on Ester Dome running at the ideal pace. I don't remember training like crazy, which means I probably didn't really train. I did spend a ton of time with mental prep and planning though, including buying a nice assortment of Clif Bars and related protein bars. (To this day I can't still can't enjoy Clif Bars.)
When I got to the race start the night before, I met an assortment of cool people. The one who stands out is Chris Butcher. I told Chris that I just wanted to make the cutoff, and he said "Can you run an 8 hour marathon?" I told him I did the Equinox in under 5 hours, and he said "You'll be fine! You'll do so good out there." That was encouraging, and it messed with my plans in a good way.
I remember looking at the other runners getting ready. They had name brand ultra running vests, Hoka shoes, and little rituals as they ate breakfast and had coffee in the hours before the race. Some were running short little sprints in the parking lot, and others had gone for longer runs. I forgot to bring my oatmeal, so I ate a bunch of bagels that I had brought. I packed my backpack, drank a Red Bull, (a tradition that I have carried with me to every ultra since) and did a couple short jogs to get my blood pumping before the 5 am start.
I stuck with my friend Matt Blood and some other guys for the first few miles, and gradually we all separated out until I was by myself, just moving along at the best possible speed, which was only a fast walk at times. I like being by myself in the middle of the pack. It's a comfortable place where I'm not rushed by people behind or in front of me, and can focus on my own ideal pacing.
My feet started hurting noticeably around mile 25 or 26, right when I left the trail for some rocky tundra and uneven ground on the way into Angel Creek drainage. I went gingerly for this part, and took some Advil at the cabin checkpoint at mile 30. Most people had pacers from this point, but I was solo. I got a little bit confused on the next part, where I didn't see any flags for a long ways, and I even turned around and backtracked a little. I eventually decided I wasn't off course, and kept on going. I made it to the cutoff location more than 2 hours before the cutoff, and changed shoes at mile 42 which was AMAZING. The next 8 miles were on a familiar trail, Angel Rocks up and over to the Hot Springs. At this point I was less than 10 miles from the end, and I was on comfortable ground, and I got faster and faster. My spirits were high, and I passed several racers who were very down and in pretty rough shape.
When I came down the last hill, I saw another runner! I was able to sprint past him and finish just before him, which surprised me. He had nothing left, and I could've run another 10 miles, albeit slowly. I finished in 14 hours and 23 minutes.
Remember that vicious cycle? I just proved to myself that I could cover 50 miles fairly easily in less than a day. And I walked a lot. Like, half the race probably.
I was hooked.
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