Day 2: North Glacier Pass to north Twin Island Lake

This was our most difficult day, for sure.  We got a late start, which was fine because we wanted to hit the snow after it had softened.  We could have started a bit earlier, though, and still have been fine as it was a fairly warm day.  We missed out on some photo opportunities by sleeping until the sun was up, but an early morning bathroom adventure did give me an opportunity to see Mt. Banner lit up by the dawn alpen glow.

After breakfast and packing up, we took off toward the low point between Banner and Davis, which is pretty obvious.  There's also a well-defined use trail.  It was remarkable how much smaller Thousand Island's inlet stream had gotten overnight.  It went from a raging white torrent to a crystal clear stream.  There's no need to cross it until you're quite high.

The path to the base of the pass is easy walking through meadows, steadily uphill until you reach a broad flat area where the creek is wide and cobble-stoned.  In this area, where American Pipits and Gray-crowned Rosy-Finches play, stood a lonely grave.  This is an unusual sight to see in the Sierras:

But what a place to rest!

This, surprisingly to us, was the busiest day of the trip as we saw many other hikers.  We met our first people of the day descending North Glacier Pass.  They said they were coming from Twin Island Lakes, and had hoped to make it to Blue Lakes Pass, but had been stymied by a steep waterfall.  We think they may not have made it that far, as the really difficult waterfall to pass is the one below Lake Catherine.  We exchanged news about the World Cup, and then we were on our way.

We headed for the snow fields, which was the right thing to do, as the alternative is talus.  We stayed on the snow fields until we mounted a ridge we thought was the pass.  That's the "pass" just above Libby's head in the image above.  Unfortunately, it turned out to be a false summit.  The rest of the approach was snow pock-marked with talus, which is always a bit scary, or talus.  We opted for talus and took a direct approach toward the low point of the pass.  In retrospect, I think if we had headed up the talus to the right and then traversed into the pass, that would have been the least difficult approach.  We ended up mired in a long stretch of large talus.  Still, we made it.

There were a dozen other people on top of the pass, and it was blowing hard.  We took shelter in the rocks and ate lunch.  On the other side, Lake Catherine was still partially covered in snow and ice.

Lake Catherine has to be bypassed on the right over talus.  There's no alternative, so off we went.  At the far end, you drop down some easy terrain to a pretty tarn surrounded by snow.  From the tarn, the creek starts dropping precipitously in a series of cascades.  We crossed the creek above the waterfalls  on a partial snow/ice bridge and then started to descend the north side of the creek via a series of steep ledges.  This section had a couple of class 3 drops, but nothing dangerous.  The creek's descent is marked by beautiful waterfalls that sometimes drop 80' or more at a time.

The route follows the waterfalls until you can see a meadow off to its right, which is the route to the North Fork valley.  At the meadow, we headed off gently up and to the right along a fault into another canyon with a different stream.  Traversing over to this stream, you hit a use trail that takes you down to the old site of a linarite mine.  I picked up a couple of samples for Grandpa and we took some photos and had a snack.  It was already quite late by this point, after 5:30 pm, I think, but after some deliberation we decided to continue on to Twin Island Lake.  There's an unmaintained trail from the mine that leads down into the valley of the North Fork.  We followed it down partly buried switchbacks and then headed west in a traverse that led us to another little prospect.  From there we went up some faults and hit a nice flat area that led into another fault that went over the ridge to the lake.

Unfortunately, the only flat spot in this area is well above any good water source.  We considered dropping to the lake and then traversing toward the outlet, but the large intervening bluff appeared to fall off too steeply to comfortably circumvent below.  Instead, we continued up some cracks and then found another way to down climb pretty steeply to the outlet of the lake.  At that point it was too late to continue and we set up camp.

High Trail to Thousand Island Lake

We started our pack trip from Agnew Meadows.  Grandpa gave us a ride to the trailhead from the cabin early enough in the morning that he could get us down and then get back out again before the gate opened at 7:00.  We started hiking just a bit before 7.

The high trail starts with some easy switchbacks out of the meadow and then it surprised us by entering timbered country for a couple of miles.  It slowly ascends to avoid some cliffs, and then when it starts descending to the various junctions of the Clark Lakes trails, it heads out into open country.  I had expected to have continous views of Ritter and Banner on the walk to Thousand Island, but that didn't turn out to be the case at all.  There are some campsites in an hour or so (they may be illegally close to the trail and the water may dry up in late season, I suppose) that have fantastic views, though.

We took lunch when we hit the North Fork of the San Joaquin for the first time.  Then we were up and hiking along Thousand Island Lake.  That always takes longer than you'd like.  There were quite a few other parties camped along the lake, but we hiked almost all the way to the far end, so we had a nice private campsite.  The closest people had actually camped between Banner and the lake.  This is really one of the most beautiful places I've ever been, so it's not surprising that it's such a popular location.

That night we tried fishing, but it was very, very windy, and we had no luck.  It's also very shallow on the west end of the lake.  We did see a couple of deer and a bald eagle, though, which was nice.

LA Marathon

I wanted to type out briefly what it was like to run my first marathon.  You know, so I won't forget.

Expo

There was no bib or packet pick-up at the start of the marathon on Sunday morning, so we were required to make the trek out to the LA Convention Center on Friday night or Saturday.  There was no way we could make it Friday night, so off we went on Saturday.  Since there were no parking options under $15, Libby and I elected to make a day of it and use public transport.  We drove to Norwalk and took the Green Line to the Blue Line to the stadium. We got to see a lot of the less glamorous parts of LA this way!  It took about an hour and cost $14 for the two of us to make the trip.

The expo itself wasn't very exciting.  It took them awhile to find my bib because it was filed upside down.  There were quite a few booths, but we aren't really shoppers.  They didn't give out a whole lot of free stuff, and the places that were giving out free stuff had huge lines.  We're not really into lines.

Ryan Hall was there signing autographs, and it was cool to see him.  He's a very slightly built person -- which isn't surprising considering his profession.  We decided not to stand in line to talk to him.  One cool thing was that they had Asics' mobile marathon treadmill out front of the convention center.  We got to watch someone run a 4:50 pace for 11 minutes.  He looked pretty good!

Marathon

The Start: Logistics

The course of the marathon ran from Dodger Stadium to Santa Monica through Hollywood and Beverly Hills.  Libby was great and came to see me off and then drove down to Santa Monica to meet me at the finish line.  Couldn't do it without her!

It was scheduled to start at 7:30, and we planned on getting there 90 minutes early.  We left home at around 5:00 am to give ourselves plenty of time, and it was a good thing that we did.  Unfortunately, the time sprung forward overnight, so we lost an hour of sleep the very day of the marathon.  We dealt with this unpleasant reality by switching the clocks that evening as soon as it got dark, and then went to bed at 9:00 pm PDT.  We set two alarms because, although our bedside alarm clock is designed to change automatically to DST, we didn't trust it.  Turns out it worked!

It was a breeze driving through LA until about a mile before the exit.  Then it stacked up and we crept forward sluggishly.  I don't exactly remember how long it took, but I think it was after 6:00a when we parked.   After one false start at the security gate, and a trip back to the car, we were through and looking for the porta-potties.  They were on the other side of the starting area.  So, we had to walk a long way to the bathrooms and then wait in a long line.  By the time we were all done, it was after 7:00 am.  I wasn't warming up because I was going to do so on the course to spare my knee, so that turned out OK.  I crammed myself into the middle of the open corral and waited for the start.  Of course, after the official start, it still took five or more minutes to reach the timing mat.  Then we were off!

The Start: My Knee & Training

After my half marathon in January, my goal had been to have one recovery week, and then to return to 40 miles per week training weeks.  I wanted to do one long run per weekend of 2.5 hours, one medium run on Thursdays of 1.5 hours, and three other runs in the 45 min to 1 hour range.  On the third week of the half marathon, on my medium run on a Thursday evening, I felt a twinge behind my knee while running downhill.  It wasn't a pain, just a twinge, but for the duration of the run, I began to feel pain.  It crept up on me and by the end of the run it was constant.

Afterward, it hurt.  It hurt all the time, and it hurt overnight.  I iced it that evening, and the next day we went to California Adventure with my cousin Sierra for a full day.  I wasn't feeling any more pain by the end of the day, so I went for a short run to feel it out that Saturday.  I came home with a little tightness behind the knee, but since there was no pain I figured I'd dodged a bullet.

The next day I went for my scheduled long run.  I felt great for the first half of the run, but then the pain came back.  I was a long way from home at that point, so I kept going and finished the full run.  The pain came back the same way it had the first time: in waves that got worse and worse as I ran.  Otherwise, I felt great conditioning wise on this run. 


Since the pain was worse this time, I knew I had exacerbated the injury.  I was very frustrated.  For the rest of February I did very little running (40 miles total for the rest of the month).  I did do some cross-training, but not a lot.  On most of the runs I did do, I felt some tightness behind the knee.

The result was that I missed about 5 weeks of training.  And it meant that my only realistic goal in the marathon was to finish.  I'd dreamed of running a 3:30 or a 3:45, but that was clearly going to be impossible.

The Race

I decided to warm up on the course.  Normally, before a race, I will take 15 minutes to slowly bring my heart rate up to its aerobic thresh-hold of about 145 bpm.  This gets my muscles loose and relaxed and ready to go.  It makes a big difference in how easy it is to hit race pace from the get-go.  Today I would do the same thing, but on the race course itself.  Since my only goal was to finish, I could afford the extra time.

After crossing the mat, I couldn't help but break into a slow jog for a minute or so.  You just get swept in a sea of excited humanity.  I checked my heart rate and saw it had jumped far too quickly, so I made myself walk.  The course goes up briefly from the start line, and then plunges down a steep hill.  I love running downhill, but today I walked it.

At the bottom, we turned left and it got a lot flatter, so I started jogging slowly.  There are so many people on the course that if you have to be weaving around people constantly.  I imagine that this is the case for pretty much everyone.  I think you'd have to be in a seeded corral to avoid this, and it is frustrating.  People drift around on the road and form groups, and stop suddenly in front of you.

However, the fun thing about a big city marathon like this is the community support.  People line the course and cheer for the whole way.  There are some areas with more people and some areas where there only a few people, but there was a lot to look at the whole race.  In the early going, Chinatown hosted dancers in their dragon costumes.  In downtown, there was a Taiko drum group keeping the rhythm.  There were bands set up along the course, and impromptu refueling stations, cheerleaders (literally), and it was all a lot of fun.

By the time I was approaching the halfway mark, I stopped walking down hills.  I had no knee discomfort, and I had a sense that I might finish without any knee pain.  However, crossing the 13 mile marker, I saw that I had finished my first half marathon in something like 2:05.  That's slower than most of my training runs, and I was a little disappointed because it meant that a sub-four hour marathon was probably going to be out of reach.  Still, I knew that if I ran the whole second half, I'd put up a strong negative split, so I let myself go at a pace that felt comfortable.

After Hollywood, there's a steep downhill section.  There were no bands on this section, and no one around me was talking.  It was interesting just to listen to the sound of hundreds of feet thump-thumping down the hill.  A little later on the descent I saw someone running the race barefoot.  I congratulated him!

The third 10K of the race was the best for me.  I was running at a comfortable pace and had stopped worrying about my knee.  I was getting refreshment at every water stop.  I had to start pouring water on my head during this stretch, though, as the early morning high clouds had cleared and the sun was becoming intense.

At mile twenty, we turned north and started up the last hill in the heat.  It was probably over 80 by then, and pouring water over my head only seemed to cool me down for about two minutes.  The Veteran's Hospital is LA's heartbreak hill.  It isn't that steep, but it is long and sustained.  It saps you, and leaves you very tired and drained at the top.  From there, it's a dull long and gradual descent to the beach through a residential neighborhood.  The last 10K was the hardest run I've ever done in my life.  My legs felt sapped, I was hot and cold at once, and wanted to finish so badly.  I focused on my form, relaxed my arms, and just tried to flow along.  That helped, but deep down at this point I just wanted it to be over.

I was still stopping to walk through aid stations, but it had become difficult to walk.  It was also difficult to run, but actually less uncomfortable.  That helped me keep going, but in mile 24/25 I started getting a sharp pain in my lower quads.  It felt like a cramp, and I decided to try to walk it out.  When I started walking, the other leg's lower quad started cramping in the same spot.  I gingerly walked to a tree to steady myself, and tried to stretch it out.  However, when I grabbed my ankle my hamstring started cramping!  I just had to laugh at that point.  I shook my legs a few times, then started running and the pain was gone.  I was grateful because I earlier I had seen a young runner rolling on the ground in pain at one point from cramping in his legs.

The last mile was the longest mile I've ever run.  I kept telling myself that a mile isn't very far, but this felt so far.  I really didn't have anything left to put out more effort.  I was very pleased to see Libby waving at me from the side of the race near the finish line.  It took a few moments before I was sure it was her through my mental haze, and I started left to high-five her.  However, I only took one step and then decided I couldn't.  I felt at that moment like I had only enough energy to finish, and no more, so I struck on for the finish line at my slow pace.

I crossed, stopped my watch, and started hobbling.  It's such a surreal feeling to be so exhausted.  You can only walk in slow motion.  I grabbed some gatorade, a bagel, and a water bottle.  The bagel was very hard to eat.  I forced half of it down and threw the rest away.  Then I made my way to the family reunion area and waited for Libby.  She had found parking a long way away, maybe another mile, and that was good because it kept me moving and my muscles got some active recovery in before sitting in the car.

Final Reflections

I am so grateful to finish this race. I feel like it was a miraculous intervention by God that my knee didn't hurt for the whole race.  I'm so grateful to him and to those who prayed for me.

My official time was 4:03:11.  I wish I could have gotten under four hours, but I just wasn't fit enough to make up the deficit from early in the race.  The marathon is very long.  You have a lot of miles to cover, and I think training volume has got to be key to a successful race.  You need a lot of aerobic fitness to complete that last 10K, and I'd like to take another go at it with a better base of fitness.