Quad Rock 2020 Race Report: Smokin' Hot

Anticipation

I've been looking forward to running Quad Rock ever since I started trail running at Horsetooth Park outside of Fort Collins. The course runs over some of the best trails in Horsetooth and Lory Parks just outside of town. While it looked bleak earlier this year due to the pandemic, the race directors managed to jump through hoops to make it happen this year. There were many changes due to COVID including waved starts, masks at aid stations, limited spectators, and more, but the biggest change impacting the race its delay from May to August. Anyone who lives on the Front Range knows that those are two very different climates. Because of that, in the months leading up to the race I spent a lot more time running in the afternoon instead of the mornings to get acclimated with the heat.

In the final week leading up to the race, my body was feeling as good as I could hope for coming off of the Never Summer 100K a few weeks prior. After a week or so off from running following that race, I had been able to run comfortably for an hour a day. I biked a bit and hiked a few mountains, but never ran for more than an hour in between Never Summer and Quad Rock. Never having run two races this close together, I was eager to go long again and see how things held up. If everything went well, I had a good shot at finishing the 2020 Gnar Slam-- 4 races put on by Gnar Runners: Never Summer 100k, Quad Rock 50, Black Squirrel Half Marathon and Blue Sky Marathon.

I think this counts as cross training

Hiking the weekend before Quad Rock

That’s when I heard about the Cameron Peak fire, about 50 miles west of Fort Collins. It was the third of four fires that would ignite in early August in Colorado, burning thousands of acres of land across the state. Smoke from the fire blew west and blanketed Fort Collins with haze. There was no sign of containment, let alone rain, the coming week. With that, air quality became a big concern for the race, but I was grateful to not be close enough to the fires to have to be evacuated. I can't imagine how horrible that must be and I'm hoping for the best with each of these fires.

The race directors monitored the air quality in town and it looked as though quality improved the night before the race which sealed my decision to run the race. If things changed, I knew I'd come up short and that was fine. When it comes to smoke you don’t really get to decide if you can push through it for hours and hours, the air decides for you. A few years back I hiked a few mountains during a particularly nasty wildfire season and I remembered my throat feeling like it was on fire, painful headaches and quickly becoming dehydrated. I knew if any one of those 3 symptoms hit me on a 50 miler I’d be forced to stop short.

Race Day

My awesome wife Calli shuttled me over to the trailhead that morning along with our dog Lily, which meant a 4:00AM alarm clock and a 30 minute drive for her. I was grateful for the company and she wished me good luck as I stepped out for the start line.

Early morning, Lily was not enthused.

Nick Clark, one of the race directors, gave a quick briefing of the course before counting down to the start. At 5:00AM, the group of us set off for a long day touring Horsetooth and Lory State Park just outside of Fort Collins. I've run these trails just about weekly for the past few years, so I know them very well. We would run a clockwise circle around the parks and return to the start line. Then we would reverse the loop, retracing our steps back here to the finish. Each loop came in at 25 miles with nearly 5,500' of climbing, for a total of 50 miles and 11,000'.

The elevation profile of the race showing the 6 big climbs. Spoiler alert-- number 5 was rough.

This race coming on the heels of a successful Never Summer 100k, I decided to use a similar approach today as I did for that run. I made a conscious effort to dial it back early on, even if it felt too easy. That meant that as we started in the darkness, I saw a line of headlights quickly string out in a line ahead of me. I didn't mind. Temperatures were the lowest they would be all day and my headlamp illuminated the trail in front of me, helping to keep me in my own head-space. At this point, smoke was not really detectable.

The sun began to rise near mile 7 as I turned right for the first big climb of the day up Towers Road. At this point I thought I could loosen up a bit. Much of Towers is steep enough to warrant hiking over running when going this long, but I managed to hold a decent pace climbing up the road.

At the top of the climb, I reached the Towers aid station. Based on the course layout, this would be the first of four times these amazing volunteers would help me run my race. Still spry and unaware of how the day would unfold, I happily refilled my bottles and took a turkey & cheese wrap to go as I began my first descent of the day down Spring Creek.

I love Spring Creek. The trail meanders through a valley before reaching Horsetooth Falls (which is quite dry this time of year). After passing the turn for Horsetooth Falls, the air quality worsened drastically. Haze permeated the valley and my throat quickly became irritated. I doubt visibility was better than 2 miles. Skeptical of how things would go, I dialed back my effort again as I put on my mask and rounded into the Horsetooth Aid Station near mile 10 where I would see Calli and Lily again. I spent a few moments talking with Calli. Haze was the main unknown that could bring things to a screeching halt, but otherwise everything felt good so far. She wished me luck and I was on my way.

Horsetooth Aid. Lily is still not enthused.

From Horsetooth, I climbed back towards Towers Aid station on the Westridge Trail without much event. With another quick stop at Towers at mile 14, I thanked the stellar volunteers again and began the descent down Mill Creek towards the Arthur's Trailhead aid station. While descending, I noticed my throat was no longer irritated and smoke had cleared. This rejuvenated my effort and made me more confident in giving the second loop a try.

While smoke had abated, on that descent I first noticed the heat of the day. I was sweating heavily and drank my bottles dry before I reached the next aid station. When I arrived, volunteers handed me salted watermelon and otterpops. They then sprayed me down with ice cold water while filling up my bottles. That helped tremendously, and I thanked them before beginning the climb towards Timber Trail.

As mentioned earlier, the course is one loop that you run in each direction. Because of that, you see every runner doing the 50 miler either on their way out from the halfway point (which is the start/finish area) or on your way out from there. As I descended Timber, the 1st place man and woman passed me on their climb from the start area. Those two were flying. After passing them on their climb, I ran past a few other runners ascending the trail. I couldn't help but notice that there weren't really that many people climbing out of the start/finish area, which seemed odd.

A friendly greeting at the halfway point, Lily's in a better mood.

As I rounded into the start/finish area, I realized why. Two runners that got to that aid station at the same time as me decided to drop because of the smoke and heat. I wondered how many more had called it quits at mile 25. I felt as good as I could have hoped for after 25 miles in those conditions. My throat was no longer irritated and the haze seemed to be clearing from the area. It was sunny and hot, but that's what I signed up for. After stopping to see Calli (who had driven back around the reservoir to the start to meet me, she's incredible) and the pup, I didn't think twice about turning out of the aid station and going for the second loop. Not before stuffing my pockets with ice for the road!

Mile 25, time for round 2! Lily trying to eat my salted watermelon.

The 4th climb of the day passed without much issue. I saw a lot of the 50 milers and all of the 25 mile runners making their way towards Soldier Canyon. Some were absolutely flying, others were pretty toast. After topping out on the climb, I welcomed a descent back towards the Arthurs aid station. Howard is a rocky trail and pretty tough to bomb down quickly so I kept a reserved pace here as well. A few runners working on finishing their first loop asked me how far to the top of the climb, or how far to the next aid station. I did my best to estimate but looking back I accidentally gave some bad advice... mental math is hard after running 30 miles!

That climb and descent brought me back at the Arthurs Aid station, where I accepted another spray down of ice water, more otter pops, food, ice, all that good stuff. Each aid station did such a great job of helping runners out quickly. Before long I was off towards a climb I had been dreading all day.

Nearing the Arthur's aid station, with Arthur's Rock in the hazy background.

Remember how I said I love Spring Creek? I don’t feel the same about Mill Creek. It's a long, tough climb on it's own, let alone after 32 miles of running. I had some pretty serious nausea kick in on the way up to boot. While it only took an hour, it felt like eternity.

Finally the Towers aid station came into sight (my third visit of the day). One of the volunteers commented on how put together I looked. Laughing, I thought they were joking. They were serious! I guess I can hide the pain pretty well as I was in a bad place mentally. Really wish I took a picture there!

Things did not improve for me after leaving towards the Horsetooth aid station. Thinking back on it now, I don’t even remember falling. One moment I was running down the Westridge trail, the next I was sprawled face down in the dirt. I laid there for a moment, breathing heavily with my cheek on the trail. Even if the fall did some damage, not running felt pretty great right about then.

I gathered the energy to get up and assess the damage. Rocks scraped my hands, elbows and knees but nothing seemed too serious. Deflated, I continued moving, wiping the blood on my shirt. I needed something to change. This had been a rough 2 hours and it was only getting hotter.

The remainder of the descent passed by with no more issues (woohoo). I was surprised to see Calli and Lily just past the Horsetooth aid station as I pulled in at mile 40. I thought the parking lot would be full and she wouldn’t be able to park there, so we didn’t plan on her being there. That was an awesome surprise!

Before I left the aid station to see Calli, one of the volunteers said, "Hey, you're our first runner from the 5:00AM wave!"

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah no one else has made it here yet. And you know what, I think you're actually in the top 10 overall right now." I couldn't believe it. Especially with how rough those miles 32-40 had been. With that and Calli surprising me at the trailhead, I left Horsetooth with resolve to finish as strong as I could. I knew if I didn't get passed by anyone I would do the best in my wave, but I couldn't really tell how I was doing in relation to the other runners in the top 10 as they had started 30 minutes before me. It's easy to find motivation to outrun someone when you can see them right in front of you, but I wouldn't have that in this case. I just needed to run as strong as I could and hope it was enough to land me in a strong spot.

My awesome wife and pup, and me trying to hide the pain.

That brought me to the final climb of the day. My legs were wrecked, but it's a more gentle climb compared to Mill Creek and it passed quickly enough that I still had momentum when I topped out at Towers for the last time. Three volunteers helped me immediately, refilling my bottles, handing me otter pops and gummy bears, giving me 2 cups of ice. I shoved ice into pockets of my vest and shorts, praying that would cool me down a bit. I'll say it again, the volunteers at this race are next level--without them this would have gone way worse.

With all of the technical trails done for the day, I decided that as much pain as I was in, I needed to try and push the pace to the finish line. I had run Towers road dozens of times during training, so I let loose on the way down and managed to pass a few runners. After the descent, Sawmill had a few small climbs that finally spit me out to the valley trails with 4 miles left to run. The valley trails are some of the best in the park, though admittedly, they're nicer when it’s 60 degrees instead of 95 (I'm sure anyone who's run Badwater is laughing at me right now, but hey, it was hot for me haha). I had chugged all the water/sports drink I had and doubted I could finish strong while fighting dehydration.

Fortunately, 2.2 miles from the finish line there was a small aid station set up with pitchers of ice water. Words can't express my gratitude. The ice that I shoved in every pocket had melted, and I was roasting again. “Thank you," I said as a volunteer filled up my bottle. "I may splash some of this on me and have you top it off if you don’t mind."

“I got a better idea,” he replied. He then dumped the entire pitcher of ice cold water over my head. I screamed. I thought I heard the water sizzle as it boiled off my skin. It was such a shock from the heat of the valley.

Once I could form words again, I thanked him profusely. I never would have asked for that, but man did I need it. I actually felt cold for the first time since 6:00AM!

Shivering, I hit the trail again and before long caught up to another runner. I wasn’t eager to pass him as I didn’t know if I could go much quicker than his pace of 10 min/mile, so I figured I'd try to keep up with him to the finish. That’s when he looked back and said, “Hey man, you wanna pass?”

So much for that, what the hell. “Sure, thanks.” I passed him and tried to speed up a bit to build a bit of distance between us. After a moment I looked back and noticed he was right behind me. I pushed a little harder. Jesus, the guy was still there. We were running at a pace of 8 min/mile. How was he keeping up? I couldn’t let this guy pass me right after I passed him!

Alright, I thought. Let’s go. I chugged the last of my water and let it rip. Every step split a fire in my ankles. My heart was pounding. I didn’t look back again. If he kept up and passed me, he deserved it.

The final mile runs a trail that contours around a popular bay at the Horsetooth Reservoir. Just ahead of me, I saw a group of people with an offleash dog coming back from a dip in the reservoir. As I neared them, I moved off the trail to run past them. The dog paused briefly as I passed by, following me with his eyes. Then it charged.

I shouted and jumped further off the trail. I didn’t have time to think if this thing was aggressive or not, I just tried to sprint away from it as fast as I could.

“Cujo! Cujo, come!” its owners shouted as it chased me. Cujo ignored them and kept chasing after me for 50 yards. It made a few attempts to bite at my feet, nearly tripping me twice. I was terrified that it would sink it's teeth in my leg so I paused briefly to kick at it. That seemed to work, as it backed off and returned to the group. Phew. Hopefully they put Cujo on a leash, but I won’t hold my breath.

I thought I was giving it my all before the Cujo* incident, but that made me realize I still had something in reserves. Finish line now in sight, I maintained that effort through the end. I crossed the finish line at 10 hours and 55 minutes, free of dog bites and ahead of the guy I was irrationally trying to outrun.

Calli met me at the finish line and helped bring me back to life after I collapsed in the dirt near the finish line. She told me that I definitely finished top 10, and pretty high in my age group. I was ecstatic. That’s when Nick Clark, the race director approached us. “Brandon Cooper?” he asked. I nodded. “Congratulations, you finished 3rd overall for men,” he said as he handed me an engraved mug.

I couldn’t believe it. “Overall? Not just my age group?”

“Right overall, you started at 5:00 instead of 4:30. Some of those guys from the 4:30 wave got here before you, but looking at net times, you landed 3rd overall.”

I was still in shock. I am not someone who finishes in the top 3. I’m proudly a mid-pack runner. I later learned that more than half of the field dropped at the halfway point, likely due to some combination of the heat and smoke. In all, close to 60% of the 50 mile runners finished short of that distance.

I thanked Nick profusely for putting on the races this year in light of all of the setbacks. His team worked incredibly hard to take necessary precautions in light of COVID, and then they had to deal with a nearby wildfire the week of the race. Their volunteer staff did an outstanding job caring for burnt out runners as best they could in light of all of the COVID restrictions. Calli and I chatted with him a bit longer before he returned to the finish line tents.

Cookies, otter pops and smiles at the finish line.

Quad Rock is an awesome trail race and I will definitely be back next year. Hopefully it can take place in May, as that would give me an excellent shot at beating this year's time. Between now and then though it will be nice to have a few more weeks between now and the Black Squirrel Half Marathon, my next trail race as a part of the Gnar Slam. I'm planning on taking some time off before shifting gears to training for that and the Blue Sky Marathon. My last race shorter than 50 miles was in 2018, so it's time to learn how to run fast again!

*Okay the dog’s name wasn’t Cujo, I just like calling off leash dogs that attack me Cujo. As a dog owner, I don't understand why people don't leash their dogs. If I had a dollar for every time I've heard, "Oh, he's never done that before!"... I would have another dollar after this race!