PCTR Mt Diablo 25K Trail Run: A Devilishly Awesome Run

On Saturday I fell in love with trail running. Again.

Every time I hit the trails—singletrack, fire road, sand pits, loose gravel, ruts of clay carved from running water, marked or unmarked routes—I am reminded of why I run: to play outside. Running is the most simple and fulfilling form of exercise. It’s pure joy—like being chased by or chasing elementary school friends through the not-yet-razed-for-housing hillsides of my suburban youth summers. All one needs is a pair of shoes. And for trail running, a desire to get a little dirty.

I rose early and drove across the city and to the East Bay for the Pacific Coast Trail Runs’ Mt Diablo 8K, 25K and 50K. I was doing the 25K—15.5 miles from the Mitchell Canyon Trailhead to the summit of Mt. Diablo and then back down.

The organizers welcomed the 200+ of us who had gathered for the morning’s run with a toast that induced chuckles, but also caused me to think for a second, “Uh oh.”

“This is the largest field we have had a race this year. Which is interesting, because this is the hardest run in our series of trail running events. Good luck!”

And with that we counted down from 10 and were off. At least for a little bit.

The 8K runners turned off early while those of us doing the summit trek were forced to slow to a hike for many parts of the steep 4,450’ climb. Whoo doggie! Training in the staircase of the Empire State Building would probably done little to prepare my quads for the punishment of a mountain named The Devil.

Finally, finally—over one hour after starting the race!—I reached the aid station and swallowed giant gulps of Conquest energy drink and float soda between fistfulls of fruit rolled in salt and energy gel. “Those were the longest and hardest 8.5 kilometers I have run!” I exclaimed to no one in particular. But after a few-minute break, it was time to continue forth with the climb.

And a climb it was! While not as steep as the first-third of the race, the run to the summit was intense and provided little opportunity to stretch the legs or fill the lungs with anything but dusty deep swallows of morning air.

But the views from the highest point in the East Bay made everything worthwhile and fueled me with a sort-of-existential awe to forge forward. At one point, rounding the east side of the mountain and facing west, a giant cloud blanket sat quietly and beautifully over the entire San Ramon Valley, creating a heavenly scene.

When I finally reached the summit—there’s lots of “finally” moments in this race—I took in the panoramic for a few minutes and then returned down the path from which I came.

Going down was fun—I knew I was halfway to home. And what took me two hours to climb would take only 50 minutes to descend.

But whoever thinks running downhill is easy has not done so herself down the trails of Mt Diablo. It was a lot of fun to exchange high-fives and words of encouragement with those on their climb north. But the descent was so treacherous and narrow at times—and always so steep—that it took more mental effort to stay upright going down than it did to keep moving forward climbing up.

At the aid station I again stopped. For four minutes. I needed the break. And the food. And the water. And the food. I treated the incredible spread of goodies as if I was that German kid drinking from the chocolate river in Wonkaland—I couldn’t get enough! Especially when I swallowed the melon rolled in salt—whew! That woke me up.

Finally (again) it was time to throw my body back down the mountain.

Sure enough, the 8.5 kilometers from the aid station to the trailhead seemed just as long going down as it did going up. Go figure.

Finally (yup—but “finally” in a good way) my feet and ankles found footing on flat ground and ran under the “Pacific Coast Trail Runs” banner and straight to the table of food.

I refuelled and then clapped people in. Later I would learn that I came in 8th overall.

The best part of the event was most certainly the camaraderie. Trail runners are a unique, down-to-earth, incredibly friendly bunch. I chatted with a number of people doing the run, though most impressive were those doing the 50K (31 miles). The course that I finished, finally… They did twice! The crazy thing? Three runners doing the 50K actually finished their first of two laps before the first place finisher for the 25K came through. These are some freakishly awesome athletes.

And cool for me was the fact that Scott Dunlap was on the course, author of one of my favorite internet sites, A Trail Runner’s Blog. And Graham Cooper, winner of the Western States 100-Mile Race, was out training today too. HE is wild! The temps were very warm, especially in the valley. Most everyone had on tanks and tees—many were shirtless. Graham, however, was wearing a knit cap, wool gloves, and a black ski jacket. And he did the 50K! At the 25K mark, his jacket was so stripped with white salt stains of sweat that he looked like a zebra.

I want to offer a final kudos to Pacific Coast Trail Runs. This was my first PCTR event and it was awesome. The course was incredibly well marked—better than any EnviroSports event—and the organization superb. At the aid stations they had volunteers grabbing our bottles and filling them with water and energy drinks. At the aid stations and at the conclusion of the race, they had a Costco-sized spread of Costco goodies: Pop Tarts, Clif Bars, Clif Shots, animal crackers, cookies, chips, boiled potatoes, salt, bananas, oranges, melons, PB&J sandwiches, licorice, Jelly Bellys, soda and energy drinks, and gels. And at the finish, yummy chili and chicken noodle soup.

Run hard, get dirty, and do so at a PCTR event. See you on the trails!

Run With It!
J.R. Atwood