22 - My Ultra Promise + My Vegas 50k

Chronicling my journey into running ultramarathons, and a ~race report of my most recent 50k in my hometown of Las Vegas

Background

After my first ultramarathon in 2019, I told myself I wanted to run at least 1 ultramarathon every year. 

And I’ve managed to do that! One ultramarathon-distance effort every year since: 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023. I actually have 6 ultras under my belt since I did two 50k’s in 2020:

1. 2019 Griffith Park Trail 50k, First Ultra! - 3/2/2019 - 6:18:19; 12:11/mi - 68th of 141, youngest male (age 23)
2. Solo 50k, Los Angeles - 03/28/2020 - 7:05:27; 13:25/mi
3. Solo 50k, Los Angeles - 07/12/2020 - 6:02:05; 11:38/mi
4. Solo 50 mi, Los Angeles - 07/17/2021 - 11:55:54; 14:19/mi
5. 50k Walk around West LA - 12/10/2022 - 10:48:51; 20:50/mi

And in this blog:

6. Solo 50k, Las Vegas - 12/27/2023 - 5:56:12; 11:26/mi

Sounds impressive. I guess it is. Honestly the “I run ultras” thing has become the quick fun fact I pull out when prompted. It’s the first thing I pull out of the jar when I need to remind myself that I’m pretty cool or that I’ve done some hard things. 

I often feel mixed about this yearly goal because for several of those ultras, completing them felt fortuitous. Sheer luck. A dice roll. Now those dice rolls have ended up in my favor, and it’s not like I went into them without some confidence built up. But on those lucky instances, I remember starting them with my fingers crossed HARD. Some years I have to really question my motivation and make sure that I’m not just trying to check off an arbitrary box. 

I kinda stumbled into my first ultra, and every time I get possessed by the delusion that I want to run another, it feels like I’m stumbling in all over again. Technically, an ultramarathon is any distance longer than the standard marathon of 26.2 miles, or 42.2 kilometers. But there’s a little more to that basic definition. If you tally up the steps covered by any marathon finisher and add the distance they accrued during their warm-up plus their wobbly steps off the finish line, you’d certainly come up with a sum that’s more than 26.2 miles. I think to be able to call something an ultramarathon, there has to be an intent to cover a distance greater than the marathon. Nobody’s doing warm-up strides before a marathon so that they can add them to their total mileage for the day and claim that they ran an ultra. 

Anyway, there are several common/standard ultramarathon distances for organized races: 50k (31.1 mi), 50 mi (80.5 km), 100k (62.1 mi), 100 mi (161 mi), and beyond. I ran my first 50k in 2019, well before my first marathon race in 2021. An atypical progression, but there was a method there! Through my first year of running, I had run a half marathon, a 10k, and then another 10k. I strung those races together from June through November of 2018, always having a training plan to bridge between races. After that last 10k, my mind went straight to thinking What’s next? 

Not a marathon. At the time, I had it in my head that I wanted to put down a “strong” performance for my first marathon, and I knew I’d need to train a lot more to manage that. Like a year or two, at least. Somehow I heard of ultramarathons, and the more I looked into them, the more it seemed to check off what I wanted in a next race and what I wanted for the next stage of my running journey. 

With ultramarathon races, there’s much less emphasis on finishing time than with road races. It’s still a race, but participants are usually more satisfied with simply finishing. The length and extended duration of ultras bring along a lot of factors that simply aren’t present or prevalent in your typical road race: increased risk of injury and gastro distress, the hilly or mountainous terrain that ultra distances command, the necessity to power-hike or walk as part of race strategy, and so on. All of this makes it hard for a runner to place a lot of stake in the finishing time. Between two 50k races, the courses will be so different that completion times can’t really be compared. Add the fact that these races often take place in scenic, nature-y areas, and it’s no wonder ultra runners may forgo some strictness on keeping pace so they can just enjoy being outdoors in nature. 

With all of this in mind, a 50k seemed ideal for me. 1) It was just slightly longer than a marathon, so I’d get a sense of the distance. 2) It would still be an organized race environment, so there would be course support (water, calories, porta potties). 3) I’d hopefully get to run some beautiful trail and share that with likeminded people. 

Some searching led me to the Griffith Park Trail 50k slated for March 2019. I searched Reddit’s r/Ultramarathon sub to see what training for a 50k looked like. I remember I saw two posts that said they managed to run a 50k on a weekly mileage of 30-something and by just progressively increasing the length of weekly long runs. I had cracked 30-mile weeks, and the concept of longer long runs wasn’t new to me. That was enough validation I needed to sign up for Griffith. 

Race day came, and it started out dark, cold, rainy, and lonely. My eagerness brought me first to the parking lot, but soon enough other cars began piling in. And sooner than soon, the race started. Over the next 6 hours, I beelined around Griffith Park, slipping and sliding on mud, getting lost off the course with some other runners, and consistently remaining in awe as I took notice of all the other runners who decided to spend a rainy morning on the trails until their watches counted to 31 miles. 

I loved every minute of it. I’m pretty sure I had a wide smile for the first several hours of the race. Everyone was so friendly and just happy to be out running. I remember within the first mile of the race, on an uphill segment, I was side-by-side with a grandma in toe shoes! Then I zoomed my focus out and noticed everyone around me was noticeably older. A majority of the top finishers were actually double my age!! All of that sparked the idea in my head that I wanted running to be my lifelong sport. 

Other cool things. That day, I made several one-day friendships by chatting up runners while we shared some miles, and that just doesn’t happen during road races. Aid stations had little sandwiches and soda, unlike the sterile aid stations of road races that had just gels and Gatorade. I remember several hours in as I was walking past an aid station, a volunteer asked if I wanted soda, and I politely declined before my curiosity suddenly took hold. I backtracked, asked what the options were, and then took the most revitalizing swig of Dr. Pepper. The best Dr. Pepper I’ve ever had. I finished that race soaked and drained and not even thinking about my finishing time. In my immediate reflections after the race, I was convinced I didn’t care to run road races ever again. I was a convert to trail running. (Or so I thought, obvi that’s changed). 

I look back at that day as one of the best days of my life. Soon after, I told myself I’d try to run an ultra every year. When I made that commitment, I don’t think I was hoping to recreate that first race in 2019, but I wanted to be open to whatever would come out of future attempts. That Griffith Park race was transformative, and I can truly say that I’ve continued to evolve with each successive ultra. Like I figure something out about myself with each one. 

Wooh, that was a lot more background than I anticipated, but now I can get to talking about my most recent ultra: 50 kilometers in my hometown of Las Vegas, NV. 

Planning and Prep

2023 was a difficult year for me and for my relationship with running. After May, running never quite felt solid. My training was consistently inconsistent, and I went into my fall races really shaky and uncertain. That was the same for this ultra. Since it didn’t ever feel like a good time earlier in the year to squeeze it in, I was banking on my holiday break days at home in Vegas for a good opportunity to run an ultra. 

Holidays at home always have their own kind of busy-ness. Between spending enough time with family, catching up with old friends, and taking care of some other personal things, I was able to carve out a whole day to myself, to devote to running. I decided on the 27th. It was in a sweet spot that allowed me to recover from Christmas shenanigans and get the run done before a busy latter half of the week and New Year’s Day. Now that those logistics were settled, I started visualizing what I wanted my route to look like. 

Oo I should share at this point that I wasn’t even sure what distance I wanted to cover. Something inside me was yearning for 50 miles—I hadn’t touch that distance since 2021. But I didn’t want to set my sights too hard on that distance. My training simply wasn’t enough to support such high hopes. I didn’t think too hard about it and just planted that idea at the back of my mind. The night of the 26th, I told myself that at the very least I’d prepare to run the distance. I’d pack my run vest as if expecting 50 miles, and I’d start the run and just feel it out. My route planning was actually pretty minimal as well. 

I figured running the Red Rock Canyon Scenic Drive loop was a good start, then I could head back through Vegas along Charleston Blvd all the way to my sister’s place towards downtown, then run along the Strip. If there was still more distance to cover, I could make my way to my Dad’s grave on the southeast side of town. That seemed like a pretty great Vegas running tour! I did a quick Google Maps search to measure the distance between Red Rock and my sister’s: 20 miles. Hmm, seems to line up with the route I planned. And that was enough planning to satisfy me. All that was left to do was lay out my kit for the next day and get a good night’s sleep. Major considerations for my kit were my running vest, credit card and ID in a ziplock bag, portable charger also in a ziplock bag, sunglasses, a light packable jacket, and enough electrolyte tablets, salt pills, and gels to cover 50 miles, or around 12 hours. 

I woke up on the 27th much like how I wake up for my race days: with a little tiredness to shake off but also an automatic resolve to run. I was able to pretty seamlessly flow through my morning motions. Stretching, pooping, taking in some last hydration and carbs. Then I hailed an Uber to take me to my starting point at the west-most edge of Vegas. Once I was dropped off, I shook my legs out a bit, started my watch, and took my first steps toward Red Rock. 

The Run

The start of a long run is really interesting. Sobering. It’s shockingly simple. There’s only one thing to do: Run. And then keep running. The only security I could afford myself is that it’d be a long day ahead. Since I wasn’t dead set on the distance, I wasn’t even sure how long that long day would be. Thinking too much about pace this early on, or starting to count up or count down miles, can easily become tedious. So I homed my mind to the simplicity. I trusted that one step would turn to two, then three, then more. Eventually my watch would tell me I ran an ultra. 

I’ve run the Red Rock loop once before, but for that I started on the loop. This was my first time approaching it from the city. It took me 4 miles to the start of the loop. A little longer than I anticipated, but it helped me get in a good rhythm. For those 4 miles I ran on the bike lane/shoulder. To my left was the road with traffic headed in the same direction; to my right was endless desert. So it was really just me and the road. I ran easy and took note of how great the weather was. 

Getting to the Red Rock loop was funny. I queued up with vehicles lining up at the fee station and patiently waited my turn. Once at the toll window, I handed the attendant my $5 pedestrian fee and then sauntered onto the one-way scenic drive loop. I love the loop. I used to love driving it when I was in high school, so being back here on foot brought a lot of feelings and memories from my first hikes. I remembered that driving on the undulating curvy roads made me feel like the street racers in Initial D who would race mountain passes. Now being on the same roads with just my legs and shoes made me feel both vulnerable and empowered. It also made me appreciate how much a car can diminish one’s sense of the road surface. The slight grades that would only slightly challenge my old Toyota Camry were now threatening the longevity of my legs on this run! My strategy for the inclines that I learned from Sage Canaday was to allow myself to walk for 20 seconds, then run for 40 seconds. Repeating that rhythm would help conserve my legs but also keep me moving at a decent clip. 

Running the 14 miles of the scenic loop made me feel like I was in my own world. Having grown up in Vegas, Red Rock was one of the first places where I got a sense of nature. It was invigorating to relive all of that. I was in that loop for a good two-and-a-half hours soaking that in. I also got to snap some pretty pics!

Once I had gotten out of the loop, I remembered that the Scenic Drive road ends a couple miles away from where it starts. Oops. At that point my watch read over 16 miles, so I had plenty of distance ahead of me anyway. I felt like such a badass having completed the loop and now running toward the city. I made my way back to my starting point where there was a convenience store near my 24th mile mark, so I took the opportunity to duck in and restock. Water bottles and Lays potato chips! I refilled my hydration vest’s flasks, popped in some electrolyte tablets, munched on a fistful of chips, and continued on my way.

After 24 miles, I was feeling GOOD. Like surprisingly good. The weather was great. My legs still had good life in them. The prospect of 50 miles still teased me, but I was firming up on the idea of calling it at 50k. I revisited the decision at the marathon mark and decided there that 50k would be my finish for the day. So just 5 more miles to go, and I cruised every step of it. The route I chose was awfully forgiving since Charleston Blvd is just a long straight gradual downward slope from west to east. The day was also gorgeous. I saw beauty every step of the way on an otherwise mundane road. While finishing up those miles, I called my sister to ask her to pick me up at my finishing point. Turns out I was still quite a ways away from her apartment. 

I finished really pleased! With my lack of prep, I was thinking I’d feel totally wrung out after an ultra, but fortune seemed to be on my side that day. At least with weather. I’m sure there’s some good residual strength in my legs that I’m not giving enough credit to. My sister picked me up at our meeting spot and immediately informed me of how stinky I was. We went to her home where she made me my favorite Maruchan instant noodles while I massage gunned and foam-rolled my body diligently. That Maruchan was truly revitalizing. 

And that’s that! 2023’s ultra. I’d like to go back to Vegas someday to do the route I initially conceived. Snagging Red Rock, Downtown, the Strip, and seeing my dad in one day would be amazing. But I’m very happy with how this run went :) one more for da books!

Lastly to finish off, just some quick extra notes that I found..notable about the run:

• No music! No expectation of where my mind was gonna so I thought it’d wander. Didn’t really get through much! Just kinda kept doing diagnostic checks and enjoying the day. Coached myself through some of the uphills (20-40 strat through the uphills). Also just hummed and sung out loud to myself. So freeing!
• I often overestimate how much ill headspace I’ll have on runs like these. I anticipate that with all the time on my feet and the repetitive nature, that my mind will be free for processing or for an epiphany. I still get surprised when the actuality is that my mind is wholly engaged in just running. In keeping it going, in doing some diagnostics or mental math of the distance and pacing
• Mantras! I recited this several times when it just felt right to: May I be loved. May I be happy. May I be well. May I be filled with loving-kindness. 
• Nutrition: I ate a total of 7 gels, roughly every 45 minutes. I alternated between Maurten, Huma Chia, and Huma Chia Plus.
• The Daily Stoic for this day was incredibly on point:

That’s all, folks! Thanks for reading through. I think this one’s pretty different from previous posts, so lmk any constructive feedback u have! -Nico, of Nico Run Club