Dispatches From The Field - 7/31/11 - Elevation

There were two things today that I should have paid attention too...one I did and the other I didn't.
It started the day before yesterday, when my friend Jeffrey Bencus got on me about when we were going to get together and run. It had been too long and he wanted to go run the Lower Bristlecone Pine Trail at Lee Canyon. To cut to the chase on 40,000 text messages and a call to other friends to come join us, we ended up meeting Thomas Burke for that run this morning.

The thing I paid attention too was the opportunity to run with two great Sommeliers who I admire and enjoy. Both have an understated sense of humor that is not only funny for what they say, but is additionally funny for their delivery as well. Both are wicked smart and Thomas has an attention to detail that drives me crazy with envy. So of course I give him sh*t about it all the time. Great company today, gentle reader, and I was grateful for it.

Jeffrey on the left and Thomas on the right.

The thing I didn't pay attention too (and I should have) was Thomas asking me about my experience at altitude more than once...

Lee Canyon is the local ski resort to Las Vegas. In about an hour, you can be in the mountains at over 8,000' elevation. I'm amazed that we don't get more high-level triathletes and ultrarunners training here, because we truly have it all. Open water at Lake Mead, great pool facilities, long rides with hills, mountains to run and the moniker "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas". It must be the heat.

The road to Lee Canyon is worth an epic cycle ride for many on it's own and at some point will require it's own blog entry from me. Off Highway 95, the road pushes up with very few turns and thru to over 9,000' elevation. Heart attacks have been caused by less.

So we get to the parking lot for the Lower Bristlecone Pine Trail and I am excited. I have been in this area several times, but I have never been on this trail and have run up in this area once before.



We start up the trail together.

It turns out that Lower Bristlecone is a loop that works its way up and around the side of the mountain before dropping you into the parking lot for the Lee Canyon Ski Area. From there you come back down the road and end up in the parking lot where you started. Jeff says that the whole run is about 6 miles.

This should be easy. After all, I have run marathons and did the Double Dipsea trail race this year. I know that Thomas is an ultrarunner and Jeff practically lived up here last summer. So what if these two bantered in the car the whole way up about bagging this peak here or where that trail goes there for a nice little 32 mile round trip on a summer afternoon. People, it is only six miles! I have to be able to keep up. After all, I have been progressing in my overall performance and am definitely better than the last time I ran with either of these guys. Neither Jeff or Thomas consider this trail more than a scooby-snack. Today is the day that I keep up.

From the lower parking lot, the trail gains elevation immediately. The two of them start out at an easy pace, with Jeff saying that the first three miles are uphill. The trail is a fire road that is in very good shape. We could easily run three abreast, but I treat this like a race situation. While they run side-by-side talking to each other, I fall in behind, marking the two of them for the kill.

My plan is simple: Hang with them for the uphill portion of the run and then pass them for the downhill (my downhill has gotten better too). It will be fun and I can join in on the conversation on the way down. Just one of the boys and as the weakest of the three runners, I will earn my stripes.

Why am I not in on the conversation now? Because a mere mile into this run I sound like a steam train churning up this hill. The grade is only about 3-7% as we move through the lazy switchbacks up the mountain and the road is well groomed. These guys are looking like they are out on a Sunday stroll and I sound like I am about to pass out. The one solace for me is that while I am at a turtle pace, I feel good physically. I start thinking about Thomas and his concern about me at altitude.

Exertion at high altitude is more difficult than at sea level because of the reduced partial pressure of oxygen as elevation rises, impairing the oxygenation of blood flowing through the lungs and ultimately resulting in a diminished oxygen supply to working muscles. Studies by the Federation of Sport at Altitude have shown that the lack of oxygen above 10,000 feet translates to 25-40% less muscle power. To compensate, the heart works harder to maintain the same pace. Adam W. Chase - Running Times Magazine.

OK, so I'm only at about 9,100', but I can testify to the whole 25-40% less muscle power thing. I'm two miles in and Thomas and Jeff have just walked away from me. I decide that I need to pick up the pace before they decide the need to come back for me. How embarrassing would that be on a run that these two would consider a warm-up. I tell my legs to go and nothing happens. I continue to crawl up the hill. I command my legs to go again and again nothing happens. Not good...It's times like this that I try and look at the bright side of things: the view is stunning and the air temp is in the high 60's. It's got to be approaching 100 in Vegas by now.

Looking out to the south from the fire road.

Just over 2.5 miles in and my two jovial buddies come back for me. They are probably discussing the relative merits of Brettanomyces bruxellensis or lack thereof. These guys suck! Why am I the only one breathing hard? Did I pack my rattle and pacifier with my gels today?

Reunited, we head up toward the top of the climb and I am making a concerted effort to not fall behind. After all, I want to get invited back. I keep thinking about how this is not even steep.

Just as Jeff had promised, the climb hit the three mile mark. I look over there shoulders and see a small 20 yard slope where the pitch hits (later according to my Garmin) 52%. I put my head down and push forward, doing that slow motion run where you look like you are running, but actually are moving slower than if you just walked. I hit the top and they are gone again. I curse under my breath for falling behind again.

Because of less oxygen available to the working muscles, exercise performance is decreased at high altitude. For example, it is impossible to run a mile at high altitude as fast as at low altitude. And this applies to any aerobic event, which is any muscle activity lasting more than two minutes. In addition one cannot expect to perform with the same intensity as at low altitude, and one's pace has to be adjusted accordingly. This means running, cycling or walking a bit slower at high altitude, and taking more breaks and rest stops, to avoid exhaustion. For those who keep track of VO2 max, an overall measure of physical performance: VO2 max drops 3% per thousand feet of altitude gain, starting at around 5000 ft. - Institute for Altitude Medicine at Telluride

The trail shows a little more elevation and I top out at 9,442', but I am essentially moving along parallel to the mountain on some nice single track. I start to pick up the pace with gravity's help.

Simply beautiful. As you start to move into the single track, the trees come in closer to the trail and create a feeling of intimacy that is missing on the fire road. Shade, roots and rocks all moving with you as you work your way down the mountain. What a blast! The whole day is complete for me at 8:00 in the morning.

The Bristlecone Pines watching over the upper section of the trail.

I never see Thomas on the way down, but I do see Jeff from time to time through the trees. I have the sense that he waited for me (he's that kind of guy). I'm sure that he had been waiting until he could hear me crashing down the trail behind him and then he would start running again. I pick up the pace further as I try to catch him.

I come around a corner looking for Jeff and see a couple with a dog (small English Springer Spaniel?). I notice the dog is not on a leash and I move right to give him what space I can on the trail. Right as I get even with the dog he decides that I am a threat. I come to a dead stop waiting to see if the dog and I are going to have the UFC Championships right here on the trail. Leash laws people! (I later found out that Jeffrey had the same problem and told the people that I was behind him). Not cool!

Dog under control, I take off again, but Jeff is gone. As I come out of the downhill, I see Jeffrey again (which means he waited again). We hit the upper parking lot, where Thomas is waiting for both of us (he's that kind of guy too).

I finally get to run with them down the road as we do the last half mile back to the lower parking lot. Looking like a bad representation in a wet T-shirt contest, I feel at peace. What a great experience the morning has been. I have to come back soon.

Thanks to Jeffrey and Thomas for making sure I was good all the way. Next time, I'm going to get in on that Brettanomyces conversation...

1:14:23/6.19 miles