The Ray Miller 50-Miler

Where to begin? The Ray Miller 50 miler - good, bad, ugly,beautiful, gnarly, good … repeat.




The Ray Miller 50/50 –

Let's go back a bit first....

Angeles National Forest / San Gabriel Mountains 2006 / The Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run

At the time I was coaching with and mentored by TNT coach Jimmy Freeman. The goal was set probably a year before. Jimmy was going to take a crack at the 100 mile distance. That season myself and the TNT Team had the opportunity to share in Jimmy’s quest. He would train Saturdays after TNT practice, Sundays and throughout the week. One Saturday training morning as I was pulling in the parking lot, Coach Jimmy was walking along the side of the road. As part of his training he ran an all nighter and showed up to coach the Team. “This guy is nuts”, I thought. “Can this be done?”

September of 2006 and Jimmy took off from the starting line in Wrightwood CA. After TNT practice a group of us caravanned to different point along the course to watch and support Jimmy and the other “super human” runners. We first caught Jimmy at mile 50 Chilao. He was looking good for having covered 50 miles on tough trail and altitude.

We next saw Jimmy at Chantry Flats. If you ever want to be inspired go to the Chantry Flats aid station of the AC100. By now it was dark. Runners in headlamps run, hike, crawl out of the Big Santa Anita to the Chantry aid station. When we saw Coach Jimmy at this point he looked a little rough and worn. That’s to be expected after covering about 75 miles on rugged mountain trails in the heat.

Seeing those runners check in at Chantry and then disappear on the trails in darkness is a sight. After 75 miles what awaits them is a marathon to the finish over the toughest part of the course. Amazing.


(Above - weigh in @ Chantry Flats to make sure runners are hydrated and safe)


(Above - Chantry Flats 2010 - THis woman looks great 75 miles in)

Last stop to see Jimmy – The finish line. Early Sunday morning, the sun barely up, Jimmy crossed the finish line at Johnson’s Field. Victory – 26hours and 27 minutes. Crazy!


In the following years I’ve made it out to various points along the AC100 course. Inspired by these athletes doing something extraordinary was part of my inspiration for pushing a little farther and stepping into the world of what they call ultra running.




Leona Divide 50 miler 2009 would be my first crack at an ultra followed by the Mt. Disappointment 50K 2009 and San Juan 50K in 2010.

Fall 2011

I found myself playing with the idea of running long again when I saw a new 50 mile race advertised; The Ray Miller 50 Miler on February 25th, 2012 (Point Mugu State Park). I was ready to sign up when I discovered that my friend Louis already did it for me. Without me knowing Louis went ahead and registered me. Thank you Louis... I think? Just like that I was ready to go. Oh wait, you have to train for these things!

Training For RM50 –

In a nutshell my training for the Ray Miller 50 miler was less than ideal. It was very different than my training for my first and only other 50 miler. I lacked focus and was inconsistent with my midweek training. Once I got my momentum I broke a cardinal rule that I tell my TNT athletes. I went out and tried to cram in a bunch of miles in a relatively short period of time. I did too much too often and wound up going crossing red line. My body broke down a bit and soon after that I found myself with an illness that lingered. Following that I had some family health issues that generated focus sapping anxiety. Thoughts of dropping to the 50K version of the Ray Miller danced in my head. The fence sitting had begun! There would be no shame in shifting to that distance, but when I reflected on my motivations for doing so I discovered the truth.

I was confident I could get through the 50K distance without many issues. I was more comfortable with the idea of running a 50K. Thoughts of running the 50 miler left me with doubt. With my lack of training a 50 miler would pose more risk. I could DNF (Did Not Finish). I could run 28 miles to the first time cutoff, not make it and return to the finish running a total of 40 miles. So close... more than a 50K and less than 50 miles.

Fact is like many, I was afraid to fail or what I held in my mind of failure. That is why I considered the 50K distance. I didn’t want to fail and the 50K was the safe, smart choice. Once I realized why I was fence sitting the decision came easy. I decided to stick with my original goal and attempt the 50 miler. Whatever would happen on race day I would learn from, ”good” or “bad”. It was just running after all! That's what I told myself.

Race Day
The Disjointed /Scattered RR

Howls from the runners and with just enough daylight to start the race without a headlamp the gun went off. Up the canyon we went and I was feeling great!



Beautiful views of the Pacific as we ran the coastal hillside then through grassy La Jolla Canyon. Uphill, downhill and repeat this for miles. Talking with fellow runners, strangers at the moment but united in an effort to reach the finishline. My only competition that day was in my head and on the stopwatch


(Above a view from the same trail circa Summer 2010)

Twelve miles in and I wasn’t feeling so great anymore. The technical, rutty, rocky trails and the downhills were already taking their toll. My quads were starting to feel it and I was starting to question my choice of shoes.

More running and hiking. “Is that a rock in my shoe?” “This sucks!” "This is amazing!" “Why do I do this.” “Look a bunny rabbit!”

Mile 19: Danielson Ranch Aid Station. Greeted by a pack of SoCal Coyotes, a few super heroes, and a giraffe. Still feeling relatively good and happy with my time. I didn’t stay long. That was a mistake. I should have stayed longer and hydrated more. I filled my bottles and was off onto what turned out to be the most brutal section of the course for me.


(Above - Danielson Ranch Aid - Superheroes and a Giraffe)

8.3 miles to go until the Yerba Buena aid station. 8.3 miles of what felt like constant uphill. It wasn’t long until I realized that I was a bit behind on hydration. Climbing the trail I saw the front runners bolting down the hillside. “I want to be like that!” Fast, agile making the downhills look like a tiptoe through the tulips!


(Above - Ultra Champ Jorge Pacheco on the downhill - too fast for the camera)

With about 2.5 miles to go for aid I am now out of fluids and getting worried. "What’s the deal", I thought. I’ve covered this distance (8 miles between aid) before with two handhelds and have had fluids to spare. It was getting warm though and I didn’t take into consideration that I had already covered 19 miles. A hiker is coming my way. I swallow my embarrassment of not being self sufficient and ask if he has any water to spare. We talk a bit and he asks what “everyone is doing out here?” He is at the end of his hike and has plenty of water to spare. That water was some of the best I’ve tasted. Thank you Patrick the Hiker. Wherever you are. You saved my butt!

With about two miles to go until Yerba Buena Aid I see Coach Jimmy coming the other way. He puts his water bottle up for a cheers as we pass. “How are you”, he asks. “I’m feeling it”, I say. “Me too”, says Jimmy. Jimmy would take 5th place that day.

Still on the trail to the aid station and I bump into friend and former TNT Coach Matt. This is Matt's first 50 miler and se’s looking fresh. I think to myself, “damn I need to train better to keep up with this guy!”


(Above: Matt finishes his first 50 miler)

I reach the Yerba Buena Aid (mile 28) before the 1:40PM cutoff. I’m a bit realieved, but the day is far from over. I reach into my drop bag and pull out an alternate pair of shoes. They were an improvement. My feet were doing better. It's getting warm out so I wrap ice up in my bandanna and tie it around my neck. I apply some Tiger Balm to my aching quads.

Out of Yerba Buena for a 3 mile jaunt to the next aid station and then back to Yerba Buena. At the turnaround aid station I was met by more enthusiastic SoCal coyotes and was offered a shot of whiskey by an encouraging Coyote. No thank you.

Along the trail back to Yerba Buena aid I had to find a solution for my lack of fluid containers. I had two handhelds that I could fill up at YB, but would that be enough to get me to the next aid station 11 miles away? I was already feeling the effects of dehydration. Back again at Yerba Buena aid I found myself asking the volunteers if they had a few empty, smallish type water bottles (Arrowhead/ Sparkletts I wasn't picky). The ham radio volunteers saved the day. I reached into their bag of recyclables and pulled out two beauties. Like fine china.

(Returning to YB Aid in search of something to carry extra water)

I filled up my two handhelds and the plastic recyclables and was on my way. Trudging uphill with water bottles stuffed in the back of your shorts is not ideal. Neither is carrying the empties miles to the next aid, but having that warm butt water was essential. The "squeak, crunch, squeak" sound of the bottles against my small waist pack would grate on my psyche.... or was that sound coming from my legs?

Climb, climb, climb back up to Sandstone Peak. The scenery was amazing. Having the discomfort mixed in with the pain made it a little something more special. Got a little surreal at this point.



On top of the climbs there are downhills. Great! Right? No! At this point the downhills were a different type of pain than the uphills. The uphills are a slow, dull pain. The downhills are sharp and quick like shark daggers in the knees and quads. I was moving slow and gingerly. How do those front runners fly down those rutty, rocky trails?

I make it down the long, switchback filled decent but feel beat (mentally and physically). The first 15 miles of this race felt pretty good. Early on, up to a bit past mile 19 I was thinking that I could improve on my first 50 mile time. The Santa Monica Mountains had other plans for me.

Discomfort and pain were with me the following 20 plus miles. I’ve heard other ultra runners say, “If you feel good, don’t worry it will pass.” Somewhere between miles 35 and 40 I had a shift in thinking. I’ve also heard ultra runners say, “the rough patches will pass.”

I got tired of feeling the pain, I got tired of feeling beaten. I realized that there would be some pain for the rest of the race. It wasn’t going anywhere. In a nutshell, I surrended to the pain and in accepting it, the pain became less.

"What counts in battle is what you do once the pain sets in." - John Short

Heading down to final aid station I felt renewed energy. I played with my pace and found that I still had some in the tank. Going faster and speeding up my foot turnover actually rejuvenated my spirits and my legs!

Sycamore Canyon was beautiful! I ducked and dodged along the trail, crossed the stream a few times and eventually found myself at the last aid station. The Santa Monica Mountain Goats were in charge of this aid station and were very supportive and helpful.


(Above - Approaching the Goat Aid Station)



At the last aid station I put on my headlamp (actually around my waist), emptied my shoes of pebbles and headed along the last 5 miles of the course (about 2.5 miles uphill and then 2.5 miles down to the finish / roughly). The last climb wasn’t too bad. I felt like I was making good time, but worries of not making the final cutoff time crept into my head. I had 1.5 hours to make it. My limited experience on this last section of the trail from two summers ago told me that I could, yet doubts and fear of failure persisted. This was the loneliest I felt all day. These were the same thoughts that led me to contemplate dropping to the 50K earlier in the week. I was right up against what I saw as "failure". I turned off my headlamp and kept moving forward in the dark. I didn’t want to focus on landmarks. I just want to focus on effort and push. I had to push, but for some reason part of me didn’t want to. For a few minutes a part of me that wanted to quit. So close to the end and part of me wanted to shrink from what I saw as the challenge. I don’t understand that.



I tried to quiet the noise in my head and repeated a mantra of “keep driving, keep driving, keep driving” to myself. I thought of my friends Van and Virginia Garner at the finishline.


(Above - Friends and cancer Warriors Van and Virginia the day after the race at a TNT fundraiser)

I thought of my TNT SGV Team and our honored teammates. “Keep driving, keep driving keep driving!” I heard So Cal Coyote Howls on the ridge above. On the trails below and behind me I saw the headlamps of other runners pushing hard to beat the clock. I made it up the incline and onto the flatter fire road. I broke into something akin to a run. “Where’s that turn onto the ridge that I know from two summers ago? Once I get there I will have a better idea of how close I am.”

I make it to that familiar ridge and hear the ocean waves below.


(Above - Coach Jimmy - Mile 46.5 of the Inaugural Ray Miller 50-miler. Topped out on the Fireline Trail climb with about a mile to go in the climb before a 2.5-mile descent to the finish line. ALL 50-milers went up and over those mountains (the Tri Peaks and Sandstone) in the background, from the valley floor (Sycamore Canyon) which you can't even see the base of in this shot...)

I see headlights on PCH below and bump into So Cal Coyote Kevin. He’s out there supporting the runners in the dark. Thank you Kevin. “How’s my pace” I ask, still fearing I won’t make the cutoff. “You’re good!” he says. Still I’m not convinced, but I’m starting to believe. It’s all downhill from here. “I’ll probably make it as long as I don’t turn ankle. If I turn my ankle will I still have time to crawl to the finish? Don't turn an ankle!”

I’m feeling better now that I am in somewhat familiar territory. A light appears! It’s Kate Martini-Freeman! “How am I doing Kate?” To others it’s obvious that I will make it with time to spare, but I’m not buying it. “Keep that pace! Stick with it and you will be fine”, says Kate. Thank you Kate.

Downhill, downhill, downhill in the dark with my headlamp. A light pops out from the coastal chaparral. The Bandito appears! It is TNT Coach Juan Rivera!


(Above - Juan Rivera/Bandito running 35 miles because...)

Surprised and happy to see him, the Bandito runs behind me shining his flashlight on the trail ahead. More light! “Juan, how much further?” I ask. “You got this coach. A few more turns.”

The Bandito and I reach the last switchback. We see the lights of the finish line. Howls and cheers are heard. Jimmy Freeman is on the trail near the end and gives me a high five. Thank you Jimmy.

There’s the finish line! Right there in front of me. It’s not a smooth finish in the dark. You have to step up along some stone steps to go under the banner. Van Garner yells in excitement as I take my last three or four steps on the course, “watch your step, watch your step!” Thank you Van.

I step across the finish with the Bandito behind me still shining his light. 13hr 15min 38sec.

Just like that it was over. Oddly, it seemed like time flew by.


(Race Director Keira Henninger puts a medal around my neck)

I am a bit blinded and dazed by the lights. My eyes adjust and I see friends Virginia and Van Garner, Janna, Sarah, Kim, Melissa, and Juan’s little girl Emmy. Van and Virginia I expected to be there. The others I had no clue that they would be there. Thank you friends.


(Above - Friends at the finish line)

It feels good to stop. Van asks if I want a soda. “A coke would be good… and a chocolate milk!” I gulp those down. “Van, you got another soda and another chocolate milk?” I gulp those down.

We wait for other runners to come in. I’m wondering if Louis (my friend who registered me for this race) would make the cutoff. I have no clue where he is on the course.

Ten minutes later there he is! Jimmy leads the crowd in a chant of “LOUIS! LOUIS! LOUIS!” His first 50 miler. Louis crossed the finish line with five minutes to spare!
Congratulations Louis!


(Above - 50 Mile Louis crosses the line)


(Above - Three endurance athletes / Bandito, Emmy and Pelon)


(Above - Spawned from SGV Marathon Training / Iron Kim, Louis and Emmy)

What a day! I am blessed. It was good, bad, ugly, good… repeat. The best part of the day was crossing the finish line, looking up from the lights and seeing the faces of those who came out to support me and the other runners that day. That was very special and is my favorite memory of my second crack at 50 miles. Whether you were there physically or there in spirit, your mojo inspired me to “KEEP DRIVING, KEEP DRIVING, KEEP DRIVING!”

Happy Trails,

Kiley

NOTES

* All pictures taken by others. If I stopped to take pics/ would not have made it.
* Figure out shoe situation
* What I used to call the "little things" count. X-Train and nutrition will make me a stronger, happier runner. These are no longer the "little things", they are as important as miles.
* Thank you to all who supported me whether at the race or there in thought and spirit.