Chanoko Race Report March 2019

Chanoko is a Total Body Fitness Race that starts at the Auburn Dam Overlook park and hugs the North Fork of the American River following the Pioneer Express Trail. In Ultra circles around here, the Pioneer Express is a major artery for big name races like the Western States.


Chanoko is a smaller run, less than 75 people were entered into this distance (31k) the day I ran it.  I like that because the trail is yours, for the most part.  We aren't back-to-back people chugging along, worrying about our pace because we don't want to hold up the group.  It's easy to spread out, with the fasties taking the (considerable) lead, then everyone else finding their pace and enjoying the solitude of nature.

The overall elevation change of this route was 1,629 feet.  That number is deceptive (as it always is). The beginning of the race is up on the overlook and the first three miles are spent moderating speed as you wind your way down to the river.  We are three miles in, just getting out of the park and down the service road, when we hit Cardiac Bypass, then Cardiac Hill, at mile three.  One one hand, I'm so grateful we are going down instead of up, on the other hand my quads are starting to wonder how much longer before they get a break.

The first time I attempted this race, I flew down this section with the mindset that it would rack up some timing points to offset the slowdown that would inevitably come later.  My pace those first three miles was 8:46-9:14.  That logic failed me, and so did my legs.  This was my one and only DNF race and I vowed not to make the same mistake twice.  So these first three miles were held to a modest pace of 10:30-11:00 minute miles.

We make it to the bottom and it's absolutely gorgeous.  The river is flowing powerfully and the water
is every shade of blue and green, with occasional white foaming rapids you can feel the energy coming off of.  The trail is all single track, the poison oak is in its infancy stage.  It's small and red, but still juicy and ready to cause grief to anyone who dares brush past.  I don't tend to get poison oak reactions, but I dressed smartly with tall compression socks, capris leggings and arm sleeves, so I'm well protected.

Miles 4-9 are just lovely.  Nothing hard, a few spots with a downed tree to shimmy past (watch the poison oak), but it's all chill.  The river keeps us company and we just run along, chatting happily.  My mindset was to make it past that spot where I bonked the first time, around mile 10.  There are muddy spots, small creek crossings, bogs with bridges, marshy areas you just have to slog through.

I see a definite slowdown in my pace after mile 10.  This makes sense, since my preferred distance is a half marathon and Chanoko will be my longest to date.  It's been 10 miles of pretty technical trail and we've been hoofing it pretty good.  Mile 10 is where my leg seized up and just refused to go any further two years ago.  That year, it took me an hour to hobble out to a road and call for a pick up.  This year, I am feeling groovy at mile 10, but I'm trying to play it smart, so I slow down.  Way down.  I'm 14:00-16:00 paced miles now.  I made it past the thistle meadow with the old palm trees where I died last time.  The thistles are all still dormant so there will be no bloodshed on this race (well, not from thistles anyway).

Aid stations are a bit stretched out because of the inaccessible trail.  It's important for runners to pack some nutrition and hydration for the long stretches in between.  I've got my hydration pack loaded with a Honey Stinger waffle, some Trader Joe's peanut butter pretzels and M&M's, and water.  So from an energy standpoint I'm all set and feeling good going into the second half of the race.

Then you get into the Meat Grinder.  It's a section that is past Sterling Point, past the Los Lagos neighborhood with it's remarkable homes.  I spent some time daydreaming about just climbing up out of the river canyon and hopping into the pool at Eddie Murphy's old house.  Honestly, even here it's already feeling very Meat Grinder-like.  It's already plenty of ups and downs.  But Meat Grinder has these steps loaded into it, thick timbers set across the trail to ensure the water doesn't wash the trail away.  I'm pretty tall, at 5'9" and these step ups are putting my fatigued legs at a 90 degree angle.  I'm talking to my knees at this point, directing them as we go "bend, dammit, bend!" I implore them to just keep playing along.  The course record for women through this section of AR50 is an 18:08 and mine clocks in at 35:08.

We pass through Meat Grinder, cursing out loud and trying to maintain a sense of humor, and climb up to Star Wars Rock.  We're almost to the parking lot at Doton's Point.  We are almost into our normal stomping grounds, where I know every twist and turn and can predict the amount of energy and the speed and distance I've got left.  I pause to help a woman who is struggling along, hobbling on one leg with an IT band/knee that had seized up.  I have a Black Ice Patch in my pack that I haven't needed.  I know this woman's pain, it was my pain just a couple years ago.  So I stop, take off my pack and give her the Black Ice Patch with some basic instructions.

That pause was long enough for my body to have a false sense of finality.  Done!  It was done.  My legs turned stiff.  I imagine a river of lactic acid filling every cell.  My own knees proclaim they are finished.  I get my pack back on and we start down the hill toward the Doton's Point aide station.

I have to tell my husband, who has so patiently remained at my side this whole way, that I simply cannot run anymore.  I'm not out of the race, but it's turned into a how-fast-can-you-walk event.  We are at mile 16.5 and we have around 2.5 to go.  I convince him to power on and get a good finish.  I can tell he has plenty of pep in his step and he's ready for a challenge.  He knows I'm in my neighborhood and feels safe that there's support if I totally bonk out.  So off he charges to the end. His final miles were paced around 8:30.  Amazing job, after taking such a long time to get me through to that point.

I'm left to work through all the emotions that come with a frustrating finish.  I tried several times to pick the pace back up and run, but each time my left knee would hit me hard, and harder, until I realized if I pushed it too hard I wouldn't see that finish line.  So I resigned myself to see the good in any finish.  I slapped a smile on my face.  I listened to the birds.  I gave thanks for getting through this race in this body that has been through so much over the last year.  I reminded myself that it hasn't even been a year since I finished my cancer treatments. It's hard to get down when you make it through a life event like that AND can finish a hard 19.1 mile trail race within 12 months of chemotherapy and surgeries.

The lady I stopped to help chugged past me in the last mile of the race.  She said the Black Ice Patch was amazing.  She was slow, and limping a little.  But she was running.

I was happy with my good deed.  And happy with my finish.  Chanoko is done!

Final time 4:47, pace average 14:47.  Fourth in my age group.  Runner #32 to cross the finish line, out of 58.  I'll take it, with a smile.