Green shorts running

2012 Run Downtown 5k

2012-01-21T08:17:00.001-08:00

The RDT 5k last year was my first road race in over a year and first 5k in 18 months, and I was happy with my 16:58 time. This year, I was just hoping to beat that time. I had a great December, with almost 400 miles, though almost no speedwork (only 54 miles total speedwork since the start of October). But January was rough, with some niggles and a nasty cold. I felt recovered for the race, and wanted to try hard. It has been rainy the past few days, and this morning was no exception. 30 min before the race, it was pouring. Fortunately the rain stopped shortly before the start and the weather ended up perfect- cool 45 deg, slight breeze. It’s a big race with 3000 runners on a moderately hilly course (about 200 ft climbing). I arrived only 15 min ahead of time, ran a few strides, nodded to a few of my GE co-workers, and waited for the start.

I normally start too slow and finish with gas in the tank at 5k’s. I changed it up this time, sprinting hard from the start. I was in about 8th place after a minute. After the long gradual uphill to mile 1 (5:21), I was in about 16th place, 5 second back from a pack of 10. Mile 2 is predominately downhill and I passed a few people (5:20). The last mile has a steep uphill, then some flat and a gradual down to the finish. I passed someone at mile 2 but he hung with me and I could never ditch him- he ended up sprinting past me at the end. Last 1.1 mile was 5:52, with a total time of 16:34. This is a road PR for me by 1 second, and only 10 seconds off my all-time PR, so I was very happy with the results. The GE team did great, too, with 5 runners breaking 17 min, a new record (most previous was 2?).

I think today is good proof that trail runners can still run well in short road races, even with minimal speedwork. I think mileage base is far more important to 5k speed than anything else. Now, that’s not to discount speedwork- race predictor calculators say I should be able to break 16 min for a 5k based on my half marathon speed, and I’m sure I could do that if I trained and tapered specifically for a 5k. But, that’s not my priority, so I’ll just have fun at these short races and do the best I can while focusing on trail ultras. Either way, this was a good start to the year, though it still makes me wonder what kind of time I would have run at Harbison 50k if I weren’t sick. Hopefully I can find out next year. Regardless, this is a great race that is competitive, well organized, and fun. One final note- my 16:58 from last year would have gotten me about 23rd place. So I improved my time by 24 seconds but only 1 spot. And of the 14 who beat me, only 2 were over age 30. Bunch of young bucks!

2011 Year In Review / 2012 Preview

2012-01-07T18:56:00.001-08:00

I figured I should quickly wrap up last year and set some goals for 2012. First, the year in review:

The Good:

UROC- One of my best races ever at the highest profile race of my life, earning the last podium spot
14 races (most since HS or college?), 10 trail races, 6 ultras, 4 wins (SweetH20 was highlight), 2 CR
Set World Record as part of 100x5k GTC team. Not often you can say you own a WR! Also set my 5k PR at that event, as well as setting 3 other PR’s during the year
Ran 3769 miles (72 mpw), highest ever by a large margin and meeting my 3000 mile goal
Completing Foothills Trail on first attempt, in the second fastest time ever

The Bad:

DNF at Old Dominion 100. Not much to say here, other than that I learned a lot about mental toughness and the importance of goals. Part of that learning was reflected in my later MMTR 50 finish, which I wouldn’t have finished without OD100 experience. I’m proud of toughing out that MMTR.
Didn’t reach my goal of finishing 100 mile race (see item above)

The Random:

I think I own 20 pairs of active running shoes
Pace per mile of races: fastest of 5:10, slowest of 14:09
Had a great time running new East Coast trail races and meeting new people.

Looking ahead to 2012:

Goals- run at least 3300 miles, set 2 PR’s, win 2 races, top 5 finish at competitive West Coast race

Race schedule:

Spring- Harbison 50k (oops- DNS due to sickness), Uwharrie 40, and Jones Gap 15k as lead up to Umstead 100, with goal of sub-15 hrs

After that? Who knows- have 47 race possibilities on my schedule. Looking at Logan Peak, White River 50 or Waldo 100k in the summer, and Steamboat 100 or Georgia Jewel 100 or UROC 100k or Stump Jump 50k in the fall. Finishing with TNF 50EC Championship in San Fran at end of year. I’m really debating between White River or Waldo- I’m planning to head west for one of them. Both are known for being beautiful singletrack races. Biggest difference is WR fits better in the schedule, but top 2 places at Waldo earns a spot at Western States. Guess I’ll have to decide soon.

The ultrarunning gear I use

2011-12-29T21:04:00.001-08:00

I’ve had this blog for almost two years now yet have never written about gear. I know I often scour other running blogs looking for advice before I buy since, let’s face it, good gear isn’t cheap. But it’s worth it. I remember working an aid station at mile 22 of the Bear 100 one year, and a young runner came into the station looking for some gear repair. He had taken a normal plastic bottle and fashioned his own bottle holder using only duct tape. Unfortunately, it lasted less than 20% of the race. As he left the aid station with our flimsy repair job, I thought it would be a shame if thousands of hours of training and tons of money went to naught just because he didn’t have the right gear. Good gear won’t make you faster, but it shouldn’t slow you down. With that intro, here is some of my favorite gear:

Water bottles- Nothing beats a Nathan Quickdraw Elite bottle. I own 3 and use them all the time. Good size pocket, tough as all get out (survives multiple wipeouts), and the handstrap with thumb-hole makes it so you don’t have to grip the bottle. It’s worth the money, esp. since I have seen them as cheap as $16 recently.

Hydration pack- I own multiple, and find myself using the Nathan HPL 020 the most. I haven’t seen the newer Nathan vests, but love my 020. Can fit 70-90 oz of water plus moderate amount of gear. Comfortable and light. I don’t like the bite valve on the bladder though (leaks when open, real hard to open/close), so swapped it with a Camelbak Antidote reservoir. I also own an Nathan Krissy vest (HPL 028)- it’s like a small version of the 020, but with a single open pouch in back that can fit 2 bottles. I use it mainly for racing when I need more than 20 oz of water but don’t want to double fist.

Gaiters- Dirty Girl Gaiters. Light, tough, cheap, works great. I got the bright green to match my shorts. Really. I know, I’m lame.

Photo- sporting my favorite running gear after a 50 mile Grand Canyon R2R2R. Visible in this photo: Nathan bottle and vest, Dirty Girl gaiters, Drymax socks, S-caps, Brooks Shorts, Pearl Izumi shoes, and EFS Liquid Shot.

Socks- Drymax Maximum Protection Trail. Expensive. Durable. Absolutely blister-proof. Made in America. I wear these for every long run and ultra and have never had blister issues. You won’t regret buying these- I own 4 pair. If I had to choose my favorite gear, it would either be these or the Quickdraw Elite bottles. I also like my Thorlos, Darn Tough, and Smartwool socks, but not as much as Drymax.

Food- I’m not too partial, though mainly stick to gu’s even for 100 milers. If I bring my own, I use First Endurance EFS Liquid Shot. I really like that it comes in flasks so you don’t mess with opening and getting sticky fingers from gu packets. I like Clif Bloks for the same reason- no sticky fingers… but sometimes a pain to open. If I’m doing gu’s, I like the Powerbar and Clif Shots and Gu’s more than Hammer, just cause I don’t like the big Hammer packs. Due to race day availability, I have probably eaten the most Vanilla Clif Shots this year and never gotten tired of the taste. For my money, though, I don’t buy the Gu Roctane, since I just don’t think it’s worth the extra $$$.

Electrolyte- Succeed S-caps. 3x the sodium of Endurolytes, none of the fizz of Nuun. And the most inexpensive of the choices by a long shot. S-caps get me through 100+ deg humid days in South Carolina with no cramping.

Shoes- I think these are too dependent on the person to make recommendations. I have wide feet and have had good luck with New Balance, Pearl Izumi, and Salomon for many years now. I’m also trying some new brands that seem promising, such as Hoka, Scott, and Altra.

Other gear I like- Petzl Myo RXP headlamp, Under Armour Coldgear Mock top, Sporthill XC pant, Brooks Infiniti shorts, Body Glide anti-chafe, Blistex lip balm, and Charmin toilet paper.

[Disclaimer: I’m not sponsored by any of these companies and am not benefiting in any way by posting this. And I bought all the gear with my own money.]

Best. Race. Preview. Ever.

2011-11-28T19:58:00.000-08:00

Not that there is a single ultrarunner on earth who reads my blog but not Mr. Roes', but I had to give props to him for writing the most humorous race preview post ever. Even funnier than some of Dakota's stuff. And sadly, I blog lurk enough that I think I understood every joke in that preview.

Thanks, Geoff. And good luck to you and all the NF50 runners this weekend. We'll be tweet-lurking on Saturday.

Foothills Trail 76 mile run

2011-11-27T14:23:00.001-08:00

Before anything else, I need to thank the people who helped with this endeavor. At any race, there is an RD and numerous volunteers at multiple aid stations assisting hundreds of runners. A solo undertaking such as this, however, is fully dependent on a few friends and family generously giving their time to help just one runner. Barry Burns spent 14 hours on this endeavor, including 33 miles pacing on the longest run (time and distance) of his life. Justin Cole spent 13 hours, including 22 miles pacing on the longest run (time and distance) of his life. Ken Sturm waited many, many hours and paced for 2 hours. And last but not least, my Dad spent 23 hours, including 1.5 hours pacing, all to help me finish. Thanks a million for your time and help, guys. And thanks to my family for supporting me in my time away.

The Foothills Trail traverses the Cherokee Foothills of the Southern Appalachians in North and South Carolina over some of the most rugged terrain in the SE. It reaches the highest point in South Carolina, crosses numerous rivers and streams alongside dozens of waterfalls, has suspension bridges up to 50 yards long, and can claim such notable landmarks as the Chattooga River (filming location of Deliverance) and Whitewater Falls, the highest waterfall in the East. The trail is 76 miles long, more or less, with approximately 16,500 ft climbing and 15,900 ft descending, though the exact amounts have been the subject of much discussion on the FHT listserv. One unique challenge is the thousands and thousands of wooden stairs, which tend to change fast downhills into slow, careful descents. The crux of the trail is the remote 33 mile Laurel Valley portion that does not have any road crossings or opportunities for aid and is the cause of most DNF’s for the trail. There entire trail has only been run 16 times in under 30 hours, with twice as many DNF’s. It is a worthy challenge for any ultra runner.

I first learned of the FHT when I ran the Dan Hartley-organized, unofficial Bad Creek 50k on the course last spring. Over the course of the year, I ran the entire trail in portions. Thanksgiving week worked well for my first attempt as we were off work and my father would be in town. My primary goal was to finish, with a secondary goal of breaking Matt Kirk’s Fastest Known Time of 16:52 (I made pace charts for 15:15, 16:30, and 18:15). My Dad and I left home just after 5 am on Nov 21, reaching the entrance to Table Rock state park at 6 am. I had to run in about a mile to the trailhead, where I started at 6:22 am. It had been raining the night before (more on this later) but the weather was warm and humid, near record highs- low of 55, high of 76- T-shirt weather the whole time with lots of sweating. The steep climb to Sassafras went well as I ran easy, stopping to enjoy the gorgeous sunrise from Bald Knob overlook, with low-lying fog enveloping the blue mountains. The trail was leaf-covered the entire 76 miles, which made seeing the rocks, roots, and stairs challenging, and water on the leaves soon had my shoes soaking wet. I reached the Sassafras aid ahead of schedule (2 hr 7 min, including aid stop), swapped bottles, and ran the next leg to Rocky Bottom at mile 14.5 (52 min) where Barry was waiting to pace me.

FHT sunrise (top) and Rocky Bottom aid (bottom)

The 33 mile Laurel Valley section with Barry was enjoyable. It is a long, long section with a wide variety of terrain and numerous climbs and descents. I tried to maintain a steady pace, but we found that the wet wooden stairs and bridges were extremely slippery and reduced us to slow, slow, cautious sidestepping down the (literally) thousands of steps. I would estimate that the slick stairs and bridges slowed us 30+ min over this section alone. We saw very few people, enjoying the hours of solitude. Long stretches would pass with neither of us wanting to break the silence. We filtered water once, but carried the rest of the supplies for the entire leg. We both went through some ups and downs, but steadily moved onwards while trying not to think about how far we still had to go. Highlights included a refreshing thundershower, amazing views, not too many spiderwebs, and seeing a pack of 10 wild boars. Good times. The last mile to the WWF aid is perhaps the hardest of the run, with some boulder scrambling, a steep climb, and a very technical traverse. We reached an anxiously-waiting Dad and Justin, where I changed shoes and clothes and swapped gear. Counting the stop, the leg was 7 hrs 53 min, an hour slower than Matt’s FKT split. I knew the record was out of reach so stopped worrying about the time. I knew I would finish, so just kept moving forward, knowing we would reach the finish which we reached it. Quitting was never an option.

Stairs hidden under the leaves

Justin paced me from Whitewater Falls to Sloan Bridge as the sun set. The darkness combined with the leaf-strewn trail and my fatigue to slow the pace more than anticipated, but we reached the aid in 69 min. Then followed the Fish Hatchery and Burrell’s Ford sections, taking 48 and 61 min, respectively. I can’t recall many specifics other than being wrapped in the small cone of light on a never ending trail with Justin, and slowing to a walk for almost every obstacle or semi-technical trail portion. Justin asked once if I thought I would get a second wind and run faster, which I found humorous since I was actually feeling good and felt like I was running fast at that time. Justin learned just how far every mile can be running at night over technical terrain while tired. My dad met us at Burrell’s Ford (mile 60.1) for a refill before the long Chattooga River section. The first half was slow, as the technical trail generally follows (and briefly enters) the river, but we began to have faster stretches when the trail would smooth out. We were cruising up a long uphill when a headlamp was coming the other way- it was Ken, running to find us after hours of waiting. The 3 of us ran the last miles to Cheohee and the final aid after a (slightly) faster than expected sub-2:45, 10.4 mile stretch. Justin bowed out at this point while my Dad joined in for his first-ever night trail run. The last 6 miles went fast, even if we weren’t on the long uphills. There were some nice views of the lights in the distance (one benefit of running after the leaves have fallen) with lots of jovial chatting. The finishing trailhead in Oconee State Park soon arrived after 1:16 for the last stretch. It was 12:16 am, for a final time of 17 hrs 54 min, the second fastest FHT time ever. We were finished. After jogging the 1 mile road out of the park, we met Justin at the car. With congrats and photos all around, my Dad drove everyone back to their cars while we enjoyed the donuts and chocolate milk my Dad had wisely bought, finally arriving home at 3 am.

Barry, Justin, and Jon (top); Jon, Justin, and Ken with no flash (bottom)

I really enjoyed running the entire FHT. It is an awesome trail and I had great company along the way. Thanks again to my great crew and family- I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Justin asked if I thought it was as hard as a 100 mile race, as some have said. Personally, I don’t think it is. For me, nothing compares to the last 20-30 of a 100, and I would say this stopped just as I was physically reaching that point. It was no tougher for me than the first 75 miles of the Bear 100, for example, and not as hard as the entire Rocky Raccoon 100. But it’s still a tough trail and all finishers should be proud of their accomplishment.

One final thought- running the FHT is a big undertaking requiring lots of planning and support. If I ever run the trail again, I would again go for the record, which I think is doable. Here are a few items I think would help, some pertinent to me and some to everyone:

Best time of year would likely be March or April. Temps are still cool, but the leaves would not be as significant on the trail. And the extra 2-3 hours of light would make a huge difference in maintaining the fast pace before the darkness comes. I would rather have more daylight, even if temps were warmer.
I started 45 min before sunrise. Next time, I would probably start 90-180 min before sunrise, so I would reach Sassafras just as I turned off my headlamp. Darkness slows me more at the end when fatigued.
Fueling and water was great for me. 40 gu’s (~250 cal/hr) and 20-25 oz water/hr, plus S-caps.
I need to be in better shape and well-rested. I am probably in 80% racing shape right now, having peaked for UROC two months ago. My training since then has been sub-par for a true FKT attempt, plus I wasn’t fully recovered from Mountain Masochist. A record on this trail requires a full-up race effort.
Most important, I would not go for the record unless the trail was dry with no rain forecast. Slick footing on stairs/bridges slows the final time 30-60 min, I would say.
I would not change a thing about pacers and crew- they were great. I lingered a bit at the aid stops once the record was gone, and probably spent ~35-40 min stopped the whole time. That could be cut in half.

Given this admittedly-ideal scenario, I think a sub-15 hr time is possible by me or someone else. Since I am running Umstead 100 next March, my next attempt is likely at least 16 months away. In the meantime, good luck to all other FHT runners and have fun! Go add your name to the finisher’s list!

Mountain Masochist Race Report

2011-11-07T20:37:00.001-08:00

A Tale of Three Races- a short story

Working title: 33 miles is an awfully long way to walk

Prologue

When a race is in its 29^th year and has a shoe named after it, you know it is a classic. With that in mind, I eagerly registered for the Mountain Masochist Trail Race 50+. It’s a classic Horton race, with 9200 ft climbing, 7200 drop, and a few extra “Horton miles” included. I had heard nothing but good things about it.

While UROC was my focus race of the fall, I still wanted to do well at MMTR, though a few niggles and a slow recovery from UROC somewhat tempered my expectations. Nonetheless, I felt a 7:15-ish time was doable. Unfortunately, that changed when my daughters kindly shared some kind of flu bug with me a few days pre-race. I felt moderately achy and fatigued, mainly in my legs (a first), though I hoped it was either just a taper phantom pain or would pass quickly. However, I felt sick enough during the drive up Friday that I seriously considered turning around, but chose to see how I felt Sat morning. The already-long pre-race briefing and dinner felt even longer with my throbbing head, though I enjoyed some good conversations with a group of Raleigh runners. After, we headed to JB’s (Jonathan Basham) in-law’s house, where they were kind enough to give me a bed. There were 5 of us, and I was the only one of the group who hadn’t done or seen the race at least 5 times. One was Alyssa Wildeboer, the second-seeded woman with bib 102. Seeing as I was bib 2, we joked that hopefully the “2’s” would kick some butt (more on that later).

Race morning came early and cold, but I felt just good enough to give the race a serious go. There was some stiff competition, including a few guys I met earlier this year (Eric Grossman, Jeremy Ramsey, JB, amongst others). I was eager to start.

Part 1: The Race

The first 3 road miles were enjoyable, with a bit of chatting. I found myself in 7^th, at the back of the lead pack, though I decided to let them go after 4 miles due to concerns about my health. They were a minute or two ahead at aid 1 (7 miles, 49 minutes), though a long stop due to bottle issues backed me to 10^th. I had heard MMTR had lots of dirt road, but was pleasantly surprised to find that much of it was actually more like doubletrack or closed ATV trails that were at least somewhat technical and very fun, rather than passenger-car gravel roads. The next few miles passed quickly and I felt reasonably good as we ran up and down trails. I really enjoyed the trail, the cool temps, and being outdoors. After a few creek crossings and Aid 4, a long, gradual uphill found me in 6^th place with three guys just behind. I was pleased to find myself slowly pulling away and was climbing strong. I reached Aid 5, mile 19, in 2:35. Unfortunately, my day was about to change.

Part 2: 33 Miles is an Awfully Long Way to Walk

Reaching the top of the hill at mile 19, we started a 3 mile decent to Irish Creek aid. However, it quickly became apparent that my body had just taken a turn for the worse. Interestingly, the first thing to fail when things turn south is my downhill legs (a la Logan Peak 2010 at mile 24), not my uphill legs. JB and the two other runners behind me passed and steadily pulled away as my pace uncontrollably slowed from 6:30 to 8:30 per mile over the course of a few miles. I knew I was toast, and my first thought was, “Egads, 33 miles is an awfully long way to walk.” My body told me my race was over and shifted into slow, long run pace, with a lot of walking interspersed. Two more runners passed me. A bit of humor did arrive in the form of David Horton, who came sliding up in his truck, waving me over. He pointed at me and loudly exclaimed, “Hey! Hey! You’re 11^th place. Do you know what that means?!? You’re the First Loser! Now go catch someone to get top 10!” I just shook my head, muttered a low, “Okay,” and plodded onwards as he screeched away. I was shocked how long it took for anyone to appear behind me, despite my laborious pace. When I was finally passed, I mentioned to the runner that he was now in 11^th spot and only needed one pass to be top 10. I was surprised when he gave me a couldn’t-care-less” look and just said, “It’s a long race.” Truly, there was a steep dropoff- outside the top 10 runners that day, none of the remaining guys seemed to particularly care about specific times or places, just wanting to finish. It was a different mindset than the competitive, push hard and beat the other guy mentality at the front.

I had a few conversations with myself regarding if I would drop at Long Mtn, the halfway mark. I am glad to say that, partly shamed by my OD DNF, partly cause I needed a qualifier for Western, and partly cause I just wanted to keep going, I resolved to finish as long as I could walk. And walk I could. If I was stubborn enough to start the race regardless of how my body felt, then I was going to be stubborn enough to finish the race regardless of how my body felt. It served me right and seemed fitting. My mantra the rest of the day was simply, “Onwards.” I repeated this to myself time and again.

I leisurely changed shoes and swapped gear at Long Mtn (mile 28.3, 4:05), then teamed up with law student David Kirby to finish the climb up Buck Mtn. Although I felt I could essentially run the whole mountain on a good day, I was content to relax and see if my body could recover at all. David and I chatted, which certainly made the climb pass quickly. Before I knew it, we reached the top with the Rocky soundtrack blaring from some jeep speakers (I can’t imagine how the aid station workers can endure the same song for 4+ hrs). The next 12 miles were a physical roller coaster of small ups and big downs, though it appeared my struggles were common to all the racers in my vicinity. I reached the loop, downed some delicious ramen noodles, and joined a twosome of runners to venture around and over the mountain. The leaf-strewn trail, surrounded by bare trees and with no wildlife in sight, gave a bit of a surreal, desolate, and forlorn feel to this portion of the course. I was surprised at how technical some of the trail was, and unsurprisingly struggled with some of the very technical descents, walking sections. The loop eventually ended (mile 40, 6:34), though, and I paused briefly for my only star of the day.

Part 3: Pseudo-pacer

Returning to the road, I found Alyssa bounding past me, looking strong but a bit tired as the second place woman. Feeling marginally better and moving at similar paces, I decided to try to stick with her and maybe even assist if possible, acting as a pacer of sorts. We settled into a routine, amiably talking as we ran. I was again reminded how much easier things seem when you have someone to talk to and distract you from your misery. There were a few times I struggled to keep up with Alyssa, and a few times I easily could have pulled away, but we were generally even. Across the gravel roads, up and over more technical, very leaf-covered singletrack, we pushed as we tried to reel-in her unseen foe, somewhere ahead of us. She listened to all my ramblings and both of my corny jokes and I picked her brain for knowledge of the course. We even decided that the race should be a team competition, seeing as we were numbers 2 and 102. If Eric (bib 1) didn’t finish with Sandi (bib 101), then we would win! Up and over one last 4000 ft mtn, then to the last aid station, where we learned first woman was 28 min ahead. With little chance of winning, Alyssa still wanted to beat her husband’s fastest time ever of 8:41. Running strong on the long downhill, the finish line finally appeared after a long 51.5 miles. She finished in 8:33:58, with me right behind. I finished 16^th overall, 14^th male- it was my first chicking since the Rocky Raccoon, and a double chicking at that. Horton shook my hand and immediately told me to come back to see what I could do when I wasn’t sick.

Eric won the race, clocking a sub-7 hr time. JB and Jeremy were 5^th and 6^th. I had a good time at the finish line, eating and talking with Clark, Horton, and all the racers. The post-race dinner/awards was likewise enjoyable, and I was intrigued by the fact that 30% of The Barkley Marathons finishers were present, with JB, Andrew Thompson, and David Horton all within 10 feet of me. Now that’s a crazy race- if you don’t know about it, google it. A few hours sleep courtesy of JB and Hillary’s parent, and I drove home early Sunday morning.

Epilogue

Physically, it probably would have been wise to not run. But, I wanted to experience the race and knew beforehand that it would likely be a slogfest. I gave it my best, but just didn’t physically have it to compete that day the way I am used to. I attribute my sub-par performance to 30% lack of UROC recovery/undertraining, and 70% sickness. I still believe I could run a 7:15-ish or faster. The race has lots of history, though it may change routes next year due to Forest Service issues. That would be a real shame. It’s a great course and well-run race with lots of great runners and volunteers.

Personally, I had fun and I’m very glad I did MMTR. Now, I also had many hours of suffering, but there is something enjoyable and rewarding about pushing yourself and completing a daunting task when it is definitely an off-day. It’s hard to beat a day running and walking trails in the beautiful mountains. And I also enjoyed trying to help Alyssa meet her goals- nothing forces you to get over your own bad day like trying to help someone. It was a hard, fun day, and I finished what I started, even if it took me a little extra time.

I have to thank my wife, Marci, and 3 kids for providing the best support a guy could ask for from a family. And for my parents and friends for caring. There are a lot of races on the East Coast I want to run, and likely won’t be repeating any races for a while, but this would definitely be one of the first that would draw me in again. Good times.

Freeloading and an open invitation

2011-10-17T18:09:00.001-07:00

Like many runners, I'm frugal. So, I'm always up for freeloading- free rides, places to stay, food, warm showers, whatever. And, thanks to the generosity of fellow runners, I've been able to meet many new, generous, awesome people while keeping my money out of the hotel business and in my pocket. I have invited myself to people's houses many times, and never had a bad experience. The single best example of generosity was during the cancelled Pocatello 50, when someone gave me a ride, a shower at their condo, their clothes to wear, and drove me around for an hour trying to find a locksmith after I locked the keys in Cody's car- that was quite the adventure, and the help was sincerely appreciated. And, in return, I've had some people stay at my house on a number of occasions and given many rides (disclaimer: I have said "No" once. There was a good reason, though- a 39 1/2 week pregnant wife who was having labor pains. Sorry, Mr. Grossman).

And so, if you see a race on my calendar in your neck of the woods coming up, please invite me to stay at your house if you're so inclined. It will save me the trouble of inviting myself!

And, while there aren't a ton of races in the Greenville, SC area, the same invitation is open to any of you. My car gets great gas mileage. And we have a spare bed and some good cooking, so, if you're coming our way, our door is always open. Literally- try as I might, I just can't get my 3 and 5 year old daughters to close the darn thing.

Let's all work together to save our money for the important things like race entry fees, shoes, and food! Probably in reverse order.

Ultrarunning and Your Toes (Warning: Gross)

2011-10-02T11:04:00.001-07:00

This is what ultrarunning does to your feet. I’ll often have a black toenail, but UROC did a particular number on them, for some reason. So for any of you non-runners who are thinking of taking up the sport… well, just be aware that you might get some extra looks when you wear your Chacos. You have been warned. (Don’t click on the picture unless you want to see a large version)

And in case you’re wondering what it feels like, take a look at this photo:

(I’ll let you decide for yourself if I’m yelling in pain or shouting for joy)

Ultra Race of Champions (UROC) 100k race report

2011-09-27T18:42:00.001-07:00

[Warning: Like all my focus-race race report, this is a long one]

“It has something to hurt everybody… For the technical guys, it’s got the road to pound you into submission. And for the fast guys, it’s got the brutal climbs and the rocks and the water and the mud. So I think there’s going to be something to put just about everybody down.”

-Eric Grossman, speaking about the course at the pre-race panel

After the Bear 100 last year, I didn’t have any firm running plans. I did a few low key races, but kept feeling the urge to test myself against more stout, nationally-recognized runners. When I read about UROC, I almost immediately requested and received entry as an elite runner. My summer training cycle was aimed to peak at UROC, with only a few untapered races mixed in. June and mid-July weren’t quite up to par, training wise, but the last 7 or 8 weeks was my highest two month mileage ever. My few injury niggles seemed to resolve themselves during the taper, and I was excited and felt ready. I wanted to run hard with the true elites of the sport (i.e. the one name guys- Geoff, Mackey, Wardian, etc), go fast, have fun, and see what happened. I believed I could compete, and set A and B goals of top 5 and top 10.

The week before the race was uneventful. Well, except for the minor occurrence of my wife giving birth to our third child, a boy. A brief NICU stay even had me questioning my participation in the race, but then everything cleared up and I received the green light. The normal pre-race nerves had me looking forward to just starting the darn race so I could stop thinking about it. All the UROC pre-race festivities were really enjoyable and a new experience for me- an interview with the indomitable AJW, some pre-race chatter with Eric Grossman, Jason Bryant, Anne Riddle-Lundblad, amongst others, and the elite panel Q&A. I slept terribly, as always, and just wanted to run. My family was at home, but was excited for the live coverage- UROC had videos posted on race day while the race was still going… find them all here.

Cool video of some of the elite runners- my family liked the 1:33 mark

The weather dawned perfect on Saturday. Temps were between 60-70 all day with no rain. The small group of elites lined up, and finally the relief of running arrived. The initial pace seemed reasonable, and I wanted to stay near the front group, if possible. However, I somehow found myself near the back of the conga line on the technical descent, somewhere around 14^th place after the 600 ft drop. Troy Shellhamer took a nasty spill right in front of me, landing hip-first on sharp rocks- it looked like a fall that would knock some people out, but he popped up and kept moving (as a side note, several people noticed a strong resemblance between Troy and I, although his beard was more neatly trimmed. Beard Power!). The first climb was rather steep, and I felt like we were running a 10k more than a 100k (which would be a common theme all day). We reached a brief stretch of road, and I slowly passed Ian Sharman, Jeremy Pade, and Michael Owen on a gradual uphill as they were wise enough to walk some steeper portions. Ian later commented to iRF that the frontrunners seemed to be running a 50k rather than 100k, which I think may have resulted in some of the eventual DNF’s. I reached the first aid station at the summit somewhere around 10^th place. I thought of making a charge for the front group, but held back knowing there were many miles to run [in hindsight, Good Move #1]. The subsequent singletrack descent resulted in more position changes, as technical specialists like Jason flew by while pre-race favorite Dave James came back. I wasn’t expecting as much singletrack at the start, so enjoyed it until we reached some road downhill before the steep climb to aid 2 around mile 9, which I reached in 8^th place.

When I signed up for UROC, the course had about 50 miles of trail. Later changes resulted in almost a 50-50 split of road and trail, which disappointed me. While I can hold my own on the road, trail is more enjoyable and reduces pounding injuries. Leaving aid 2, the course runs on the paved Blue Ridge Parkway. Admittedly, if you have to run on road, this is a pretty nice one- rolling ups and downs, good views, and little traffic. Even with the later heavy fog, the traffic was respectful and seemed to give us wide berths (except for one particular jeep, which swerved towards 4 runners in succession). Much to my surprise, though, the trail-road-trail-road changes, with corresponding pace shifts, seemed to only add to the course difficulty, rather than making it easier. I was alone on the BRP, though I could see a group of three runners several minutes ahead. The pace was quick- in fact, the next 13 miles flew by in under 90 minutes, even though 8 of the miles were trail. After 4 or 5 miles of road, the trail turned onto the delightful singletrack descending to the Lake Sherando, the low point on the course. I tried to run smooth and easy, making sure to save my quads, while enjoying the trail. While the temps were nice, I was drinking water faster than expected, so I asked the aid station at the lake to grab my second bottle from my dropbag for the coming climb [Good move #2]. They had it ready after my quick lake loop, and got me on my way. Every aid station stop consisted of refilling 1 or 2 bottles and grabbing 2 or 3 Clif Shots, and I found all the volunteers very helpful in speedy turnarounds. Thanks, all- you were great, and we appreciate it. A special thanks to the RD’s and Clif for giving enough Clif Shots to last the whole race.

I hadn’t seen anyone on the out-and-back to the lake, so knew the leaders were less than 10 minutes ahead. The 1700 ft climb from the lake up to Slacks Overlook passed quickly for me and I felt reasonably strong, passing Eric Grossman at mile 24, just before the nasty yet short, Massanutten-ish rock garden. I drained the last of my water just as I pulled into the aid station, grateful I had both bottles to stay hydrated. The next 8 road miles to Whetstone flew by, including a couple on a dirt road. Clouds moved in, enveloping the mountain and generally limiting visibility to 50 yards. It seemed to create a mystical feeling, and I rather enjoyed it. I reached Whetstone aid at 34 miles just ahead of Ian, who had been slowly reeling me in for over an hour. As it would turn out, he and I would run within a minute of each other for the next 4+ hours. Neal and Gaby Gorman were working the aid station and quickly had me onto the Dragon’s Back trail to the race turnaround. The trail was very runnable, with minimal technical challenges and elevation gain, and I was looking forward to seeing how far ahead the leaders were.

Dave Mackey appeared soon, slowly walking to the aid station. He looked done for the day, which he said was due to some recent illness. Ian caught me just as Mike Wardian passed us the other way, 30 minutes ahead. Geoff followed a few minutes later, apparently having passed 4 runners in the last hour. Scott Gall, Matt Flaherty, and Jonathan Basham (JB) were 5 to 15 minutes ahead. We briefly speculated that it was likely we would see Matt later in the race, as the fatigue of his 6-hr, 50 mile run the weekend before would likely catch up to him. Ian jumped ahead after the turnaround at mile 38, with me slowing slightly to nurse a twisted ankle. Other than the ankle, I felt fine at the turnaround thanks to my three Clif Shots per hour routine. The return trip was uneventful, except for passing Scott who had drastically slowed and stepped aside as I went by. His battle with Mackey had apparently taken its toll, and he dropped at the next aid. I was now in 6^th place and eager to move further up. Eric was 6 min behind me, and looking good.

I returned to Whetstone with Ian just ahead, 42 miles and over 6 hours into the race. I had some hot spots in my feet and my legs were feeling sore, so Neal had already dug out a change of shoes and socks from my dropbag [Good move #3]. 90 seconds later I was back on the road, grateful for fresh cushioning. I left my extra bottle with Neal, and he had insightfully reminded me how simple the rest of the race really was, telling me to, “keep eating and keep running.” Those words would echo in my head the rest of the way. Ian maintained his one minute lead on me for the 4 miles of paved and dirt road to the self-serve Spy Run Gap aid. After filling my bottle, I turned onto the BRP to see Ian walking up the road, disappearing into the cloud. Now, any good sports bookie would put his money on Ian beating me, but, having stayed within 200 yards of him for over an hour, I was determined to give him a run for the money. Literally, since he was in 5^th place, the last podium and money spot. If he beat me, it wouldn’t be for a lack of me trying. For the next 3 hours, a single mantra kept repeating in my head: You Can Walk When You’re Dead. I started running up the hill. Within seconds, Ian glanced back and saw me chugging along. It almost seemed that he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and started running. And so, we ran every step up and down the rolling hills through the fog. It felt like a side-by-side race, just 200 yards apart. Even when the thick fog prevented me from seeing him, I knew Ian was still just ahead. The rest of the race was simply a battle with him and the other racers- pace didn’t matter, only place.

3.5 rolling, cloudy miles later found us in the exact same relative position as we pulled into Bald Mountain aid to start the last and most technical singletrack of the day. The aid workers told me that JB was also just ahead. I caught JB around the 50 mile mark (7:16, just 5 minutes slower than my admittedly soft PR), and he was struggling. I moved past him and was now in a podium place. The rock garden soon appeared and I picked my way down it. Seconds later, a seemingly rejuvenated JB came flying by with long, thumping steps. Boy, talk about a resurrection, again putting me out of the money after less than a mile in it. The guy is one of only ten Barkley 100 mile finishers (yes, that Barkley), so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. I picked up my pace and caught him as soon as the trail evened out. After a few minutes following him with the usual exchange of pleasantries, he suddenly stopped and pulled to the side. Not questioning my fortune, I ran on, passing the fateful junction that saw Wardian make a wrong turn, then emerging to cross the BRP and start another technical descent.

No sooner had I started the new trail then I once again heard thumping footsteps. Gaining on me. Thinking it was JB yet again, I glanced back to see the source of the thumping was actually Ashley Arnold from Trail Runner magazine. In non-running apparel. Running down technical singletrack. Gaining on me. Flummoxed, I immediately caught a toe and took a digger [Bad move #1]. Ashley evidently decided she was at risk of injury anywhere in the same area code as this limb-flailing mess of a trail runner and turned around, mumbling something about needing to give something to Wardian. This made even less sense to me than no explanation, since, to the best of my knowledge, Mike was at least 30 min ahead.

My bruised bum and dignity somehow propelled me to run faster, and I soon caught and passed Ian. Although, for the life of me, I have no memory of passing him, which seems a strange memory to lose as it’s not every day one passes the fastest 100-miler in the country. For all I know, the USS Enterprise beamed me directly in front of him. Or maybe I ran through a wormhole. Time travel? Whatever the method, I found myself just ahead of Ian. We raced hard down technical singletrack. We were so engrossed in our duel that we flew right by a (very well-marked) turn [Bad move #2]. Fortunately, the trail dead-ended 100 yards later at a waterfall. Spoiling the tranquility of some hikers, we asked them where the trail was, with no response. Ian looked high, while I scrambled down wet rocks seeking the familiar orange flags [Bad move #3]. Ian soon ran back on the trail and I heard him yell something. I somehow avoided falling as I pulled myself back up the rocks onto the trail, backtracking and soon finding the missed turn and its dozen flags. Doh. Just like that, I had lost 3 full minutes and went from 4^th place to 6^th. I consoled myself that at least I still had 10 miles to rectify my mistake.

I again caught JB and opined that he had missed seeing a very lovely waterfall. Then I resumed the familiar task of chasing Ian. I caught a glimpse as he crested a hill (“I can walk when I’m dead” “I. Can. Walk. When. I’m. Dead”). We reached the second to last aid station, and faced 9 final miles on the road. I left the aid station just 10 seconds behind Ian as we ran up yet another hill. The hill ended and I kicked the pace to 6:45-7:00 minutes per mile on the flat and gradual downhill. Unfortunately, Ian had one more gear than me. Slowly, oh so slowly, he inexorably pulled away. 10, 15, 20 seconds per mile- the gap slowly yet steadily grew. Jason and Alison Bryant and Dave James had been helping at aid stations ever since their DNF’s, and they now kept driving along in their car, cheering and giving updates in the fog. Jason told me that 2^nd place was 3 minutes up. I didn’t believe him (would you, when you knew Geoff Roes and Michael Wardian were both up there?). Then, at mile 58 on a half mile straightaway, the clouds briefly lifted. I could clearly see Ian about one minute ahead of me. Sure enough, another minute in front of him was Matt Flaherty, and, yet further up, Michael Wardian, back on track after his detour. Here we were, 8.5 hours into the race, and only 3 minutes separated 2^nd from 5^th. It was a beautiful sight. I picked up the pace even more, straining to get every ounce of speed from my legs. And still, the gap widened.

In ultras, if you see someone ahead of you in the last quarter of the race that you previously hadn’t seen, it almost always means that person is slowing and you will catch them. The exception? Matt Flaherty. The dude must have cajones and guts of Teflon and Kevlar-coated steel with an unobtanium core and diamond coating, powered by the Energizer bunny. AJW said Matt had whiplash from looking back so often, but never faltered. And remember, Matt ran a sub-6 hr 50 miler last weekend! I hit the last aid station at mile 60 at 8:50. Jason told me that Ian looked strong, but Matt was still really hurting. Visions of 4^th or even, maybe, possible, 3^rd place flittered through my mind as I started on the homestretch.

Now, since UROC is a new race, I need to describe the finish. Imagine, if you will, a steep, steep paved road winding its way straight up a mountain. 15% grade. So steep I had to downshift to 1^st gear while driving up it the night before. Now, run down that road for a full mile. After already running 60 miles. And do it as fast as you can. Next, just when you can’t take it anymore and would do anything to stop running downhill, the road mercifully turns uphill. The quivering mass that used to be your quads are grateful… for about 10 yards. Then you realize that you now have 2.5 miles and 1200 feet of unrelenting uphill. Yes, that is UROC’s gift to you, my friends. You can thank Gill.

I reached the bottom and caught a quick glimpse of Ian and Matt. Just enough to tease me. Repeat after me- “I CAN WALK WHEN I’M DEAD.” And so, I plodded upwards. Head down, one foot in front of the other. Running. Don’t think about how far you have left. Ignore the demons in your mind saying that you’ve already run for 9 hours, surely you can’t run 25 more minutes up this beast of a hill. The garmin somehow said I was doing 9:30-10:30 pace, though it felt more like 15 to 20 min pace. I could tell I wasn’t gaining, though, cause Jason, Alison, and Dave stopped giving me updates on the race ahead and just tried encouraging me. And so, I asked how far back the next person was. I thought they said “5 minutes” (Jason actually said, “At least 5 minutes”, which is how long they left the last aid station behind me- I actually had a 30+ min lead, which would have been very nice to know. Or not). I’d like to say I ran every step. I didn’t. I walked for a minute, and my watch said 18:00 pace. That meant someone 5 minutes back would catch me in a mile if they ran. I glanced back, just to make sure JB or Eric wasn’t in sight, then ran again. Everyone repeat after me- I can walk when I’m dead. Actually, I was repeating a new mantra for the climb- “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” I can honestly say I have never hurt so much nor pushed so hard. Not even at the end of the Bear 100, going up and down Ranger Dip. I ran about 90% of the hill, using the word “ran” in the loosest sense possible. I have never hurt so bad, and it felt great to be reminded that my mind could make my body do things it didn’t want to do, and that my body would actually do them. Usually, the mind is weaker than the body. This time, they were equally strong, and so equally suffered. After an eternity, the summit mercifully appeared. A half mile of downhill later, so did the finish. I was exuberant, letting out a yell and (for some reason that even I don’t understand) chucking my bottle into the fence (see some pretty scary photos of it here...). 5^th place, 9:26:33 for 63.75 miles with about 10k climbing. 3 minutes behind Ian, 4 behind Matt, 6 behind Michael, and 30 minutes behind Geoff.

UROC race summary- my overly-excited finish at 4:46

Photos courtesy of iRunFar

Everything after was a blur. I remember talking with Geoff, Mike, Matt, and Ian, then cheering in JB, Troy, and Eric, plus others. Then the top women, followed by more amazing finishers. Eating lasagna and mac & cheese. More talking with great runners and people. Dense clouds at the finish such that you couldn’t see 20 yards. Showering at Matt and Mackey’s condo. The awards ceremony was fun, with Gill saying that there was probably no one more excited to be there, to finish, and to finish where he did than me. I just felt humbled to stand among such great, great runners and to associate with them. A relaxed dinner at a restaurant with runners, sponsors, and magazine editors. Crashing at JB and Scott McCoubrey’s condo (thanks a million, guys!). Somehow staying awake on the drive home.

Photo courtesy of Jonathan Loewus-Deitch

I am obviously very happy with how the race turned out. Top 5 was my stretch goal and didn’t really seem plausible given the competition, but I gave it my best and it worked well. Although we hardly talked during the race, I can say that Ian pushed me to run better than I would have if I had been alone- it seems competition does that to people. Like Eric said at the start of my post, this was a tough race- the fast road miles and slow/fast transitions were challenging, and there was more technical singletrack than I expected. I think the course played to my strengths, though, since I’m kind of a “jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none ultra/trail runner.” I definitely learned that I can push harder for a longer time than I previously had, especially up hills at the end. In terms of pure race performance, I would say this is among the best half-dozen races of my life (interestingly, most of those weren’t wins). When you include the high-profile and deep field at UROC, it would have to rank as one of the best ever. Hopefully the start of many more like it.

Of course, you can’t please everyone. I had won 4 or 5 trail races earlier this year, and my wife was telling my 5 year old daughter afterwards that, “Daddy did really good in his race today”, to which my daughter asked, “Did he win?” My wife repeated that I did well, but my daughter again inquired, “But Did He WIN?” Marci replied, “He got fifth.” My daughter dejectedly concluded, “So that means he didn’t win.” Her face showed disappointment, and she lost interest and wandered off. Nothing like kids to keep you humble! I do have to sincerely thank my wife, kids, parents, and friends for their support- you guys are great.

I would highly recommend this race. Gill and Francesca are experienced RD’s, and it shows. I can’t think of a single flaw in the race. They really catered to both elites and the open field. Good course with a variety of terrain to really keep it an Ultra race, not just trail ultra race. Good aid stations with great volunteers. Lots of swag and prize money. Awesome trophy to the winners (it even has a name- the Flame of Endurance). I hope and fully expect this race will grow both among the elites and the open runners. I would return in a heartbeat. The only thing I would change is just having one start, rather than a separate elite and open start. Oh, and Gill, can you get rid of that hill at the finish?!?

[If you actually read this whole thing, you can’t say I didn’t warn you ahead of time. It’s a novel. Sorry. But I want to remember it.]

Ultra Race of Champions

2011-09-19T05:54:00.001-07:00

Well, the big week has finally arrived. Or, more accurately, two big weeks. Last week was a big one for my family, with our number increasing to 5 due to the arrival of little Zachary. Big Zachary, actually- 8 lbs 8 oz. We had a few exciting days with a brief stay in the NICU, but everyone is healthy and at home now.

This coming weekend, I will be competing at UROC. It should be a blast, and I feel fit with almost no niggles. I'm excited to line up against some of the real big boys in ultrarunning (i.e. the one-name guys like Geoff, Mackey, Wardian, etc).

I'll update this blog throughout the week with info about the race, but there should be a number of ways to follow the race as it happens. It looks like the first one is to follow iRunFar on twitter, something I have done in recent years during Western, UTMB, Leadville, Wasatch, etc. Hitting refresh hoping for updates has never been so mesmerizing.

You can also follow results live at http://www.ultraroc.com, where they will also be posting 2-hr delayed streaming video of the race. Should be fun.

Anyways, check back later this week for any other race updates. It should be fun.

Sore back and other joys

2011-09-02T14:27:00.000-07:00

Most years, I reach peak mileage of 80-105 mpw and hover around there for 5-10 weeks. I can tell when that time has arrived simply by how I feel. Generally, my legs feel fine, other than a few spectacularly-unenergetic runs every so often. Instead, the muscles in my back and neck get sore. Real sore. All the time. In Utah, my shoulders and neck were the worst, probably from my desk at work, which I would treat mainly with monthly massages. In South Carolina, my mid-back is the worst, from the middle all the way to the very sides over my ribs. You wouldn't think you have enough muscle to have a huge knot on your ribs under your arm, but, yowzaa! It hurts! I haven't had a massage in a year, but will be getting one before UROC. It seems strange to tell the masseuse to focus on my back, rather than my 100 miles-per-week legs, but that's what I do.

There are a few other symptoms of high mileage for me, though. I can't sleep- I'm tired in the evenings, but wake up very early in the mornings, even on days I can sleep in. My previously-increasing appetite tends to level off, resulting in me losing a few pounds. On top of this, my running clothes seem to always stink (especially in this hot, humid climate- imagine that) and hair always seems to appear on my face, coinciding with my key races.

Xterra Table Rock 15k race report

2011-08-21T06:47:00.001-07:00

The inaugural Xterra Table Rock 15k is the first race ever held in the delightful Table Rock State Park. I have never done back-to-back races of any significance before, but couldn’t pass up what promised to be a challenging trail race near my home. I got a ride with co-worker, Aaron, and his friend, Tom- thanks, guys. The pre-race briefing was long but provided a nice overview of the race- the first 0.8 mile would be on road, then climbing over 2200 ft on trail for a giant loop up and over Pinnacle Peak, the highest stand-alone peak in SC. The course director promised beautiful views, life-threatening cliffs, minimal aid stations, extremely technical climbs and descents, and good course markings. He was correct on all accounts.

My primary goals for the race were to get a good workout, with an emphasis on running the uphills, even the steep stuff, and to try to win. I found myself in the front of the race immediately, with only one runner near me once we reached the trails, though he was gone by mile 2 (or, as the course mile-markers said, “Mile 2-ish”). Miles 3 and 4 were the crux of the climbing, each with over 700 ft gain. My Achilles was twinging a bit and my legs weren’t overly energetic, but they were responsive and felt good despite the never-ending ascent over rocks and roots. Best of all, they recovered very quickly any time the trail leveled off. After climbing 6 false summits and 2000+ ft in 3.3 miles, I reached the top of Pinnacle Peak at 3425 ft around mile 5.3. Giving my regards to one of the many park rangers spread throughout the course (often directing us away from cliff faces or yellow jacket nests), I threw myself down the other side of the mountain. The initial descent dropped over 1000 ft in the first mile over steep, overgrown, thorny terrain. Not the fastest downhill running, and I was content to run within myself. One very nice surprise was seeing a hiker coming up the other direction with a 4 foot long stick held in front of him- he had just cleared all the spider webs for the rest of the race!

I paused at Bald Knob Overlook at mile 6.3-ish for a minute to switch bottles (aided by another helpful volunteer) and enjoy the view. It is one of the few locations where visibility is not blocked by all the foliage. After a short descent to a creek, I started a small climb and was surprised to hear voices behind me. I glanced back to see another runner, Jeff Dixon, inquiring of a volunteer how far ahead I was. Surprised to see someone within 15 seconds of me, it really lit a fire under me. I had twisted my ankle rather severely twice during my last run on this trail, but threw all caution to the wind and ran with abandon. Down a rutted, rooty, rocky, winding trail with obstacles and constant 18 inch dropoffs, I pushed hard and the footsteps behind me quickly faded. But I continued my kamikaze descent, especially once the grade and technicality mellowed. I put 2-3 minutes on Jeff in 3 miles. Reaching the road, I upped the pace to 5:30 speed, glancing back to make sure my competition was not in sight. I ran the final .75 hard, crossing the finish line to a large crowd of cheers (for a trail race) in 1:43:28. My garmin put the course just over 10 miles with 3300 ft climbing/descent, and I finished feeling great. 2nd place, Jeff, was 5 minutes back, having lost several more minutes on the road. Marci and the girls had driven up- I always love seeing them at the finish and appreciate their support. After enjoying the post-race snacks and talking with other runners, all of whom finished with a smile on their face (even the ones with blood and dirt on their knees), I took a quick shower in the nearby campground and spent the rest of the day with the family swimming, picnicing, playing, and hiking in the park (during which I discovered Kinley loves hiking and hates, **hates** to turn around without seeing “what’s up there on the trail”- she even caught her toe on a root and did a full Superman face plant but still insisted on hiking higher and higher). The hiking was particularly interesting as I rarely move at a walking pace on trails, so noticed many more details of the lush surroundings. Park maps suggest it takes 10+ hrs to cover what I ran in 90 minutes, so I substitute slow observation for mass quantity. Fun day.

I really enjoyed this race, and was very impressed with the organization for a first time event. The course is picturesque and challenging, the markings were great (loved the “-ish” mile markers), there were lots of enthusiastic volunteers, and the finish line was enjoyable. My only feedback would be that putting a course map and elevation profile on their website and having a poster-size copy at the start could have answered a lot of questions ahead of time and greatly reduced the time of the briefing. But, if it fits in my schedule for next year, I would sign up for this race again without hesitation and encourage the RD to start more like it.

Laurel Valley 35 mile race report

2011-08-14T15:55:00.001-07:00

Entrants in the Laurel Valley 35 mile race can’t say they weren’t warned about what to expect. The race site is on Claude Sinclair’s “Runner from Hell” homepage, complete with burning flames graphics and the words, “Some Runners are Tough, Some Runners are Insane, Some Runners are Both.” The race qualification requires a 50 mile race completion, and the waiver clearly states that this will likely be the toughest run you will ever do and may cost you your life. It also strongly suggests taking a light and blanket, because you very well might end up sleeping on the course. And the last pre-race email includes these words:

If you are allergic to Yellow Jacket stings then please don’t even attempt this run.  You will get stung and probably more than once.  That is just part of the pain that the course has to offer.

Despite this, the race sells out every year with a who’s-who of the area's hardcore ultra runners- the CR holders are Clark Zealand and Annette Bednosky.

It’s very apparent that this is a unique race. First of all, no one agrees how long it is- in fact, this was a 15 minute point of discussion at the finish yesterday. It’s generally accepted the race is somewhere between 30-40 miles. Ish. All we know is that it follows the Foothills Trail (FHT) from Rocky Bottom, SC to Whitewater Falls, NC. Garmin’s don’t due well due to lush foliage, switchbacks, and the steps (more on those later). Ground track puts it at 35.7 miles, so that is the “official” distance on the finisher plaques. Will Brown tells how Claude attempted to have the sweeps (the safety runners who bring up the rear) wheel the course one year. They very carefully push the measuring wheel the entire way, gingerly navigating rocks, trees, and the steps (more on those later) for 12 hours. They finally arrive near the finish, ascending the last 500 steps, as Claude waits in anticipation. With just a few stairs to go, the counter on the wheel suddenly falls off and is lost, along with any hopes of knowing the true length. I think the course just doesn’t want us to know.

Aside from the unknown length, it’s generally obvious why this race is so difficult. Primarily, it is run across the Foothills trail, traversing the most technical terrain of South Carolina. In the middle of August. With no aid stations. None. And there are no signs of civilization, other than the bridges and steps (more on those later) that were surely built by some primitive civilization, probably aided by aliens. Other than the start and finish, you are never closer than 5 miles to a road. Once you start, you cannot DNF- you have to finish or turn around and go back to the start. You are very isolated- you are as likely to see bear and wild boar as people. But this race reminds me of the Grand Mesa 50, in that there are just a bunch of small, almost intangible things that add up. The heat. The humidity. The endless false summits. Running 4 hours without seeing a single person. Boulder scrambling. Dramatic drop offs. The first course marking is within a mile of the finish line. And, the smallest thing, the stairs (more on those right now).

The Stairs

LV35 starts at the base of some steep stairs. And I mean that literally. Right at the base- no 100 meter run first to work out position. Claude shoots his shotgun to start the race (again, literally, except this year cause his shells were wet), and you immediately start stepping. Although, being the south, everyone is polite and lets others go first, so we all stood there for 5 seconds, trying to figure out who would go first. Then, over the next 30-40 miles, you will climb and descend somewhere around 5000 steps. That’s a whole stinking lot of stairs. Up and down mountains. You don’t realize the wide variety of steps until you run LV. Some steps are very even with nice handrails (left photo is the starting line).

Some are a bit steeper and more challenging.

And some are so dramatic that it almost seems as the Creator himself must have put them in, for surely no man could have been crazy enough to build steps up that steep of a mountain…

Photos courtesy of Jason Sullivan, Barry Burns, Psyche Wimberly, and Google Images.

I have a spreadsheet I use to predict split times at races based on distances, elevation change, temperature, etc. However, I found my spreadsheet is wholly inadequate for LV. Following the laws of trail running and physics, it assumes that running downhill is faster and easier than running uphill. Indeed, this is generally true. However, when the downhill consists of carefully picking your way down uneven, huge steps on 45 deg slope, the law of Laurel Valley trumps the laws of physics, rendering downhill the slowest direction of all. Especially when the steps are wooden, moss-covered, and wet.

The Race

I continued my pre-race tradition of restlessness Friday night, only sleeping about 3 hours. I left at 4:20 am for the 70 min drive, arriving to find the parking lot bustling with the activity of about 40 racers (the 5 am starters were already gone). After the usual preparations, we were ready to go. The only item of note was that 5-time winner Brian Kistner would not be running. Right at the 6 am signal, 2010 winner John Dove was the first one up the stairs, followed by 15-time finisher and local legend Byron Backer, with me right behind. The temperatures were mid-60’s, 10 degrees cooler than the past month, but the 100% humidity had my shirt soaked within the first mile. I quickly removed it and carried it the rest of the way. Byron and I talked for the first 45 minutes, up and over the first climb and descent as the sun slowly rose over the mountains.

We hit a flat stretch, and I passed him and pulled away just as we caught the 5 am sweeps. Miles 4-7 are generally fast as the trail follows a river past the beautiful Virginia Hawkins Falls and Laurel Fork Falls. Reaching Lake Jocassee, the trail then climbs for several miles and passes into North Carolina. I passed more 5 am starters, then John Dove. Shortly after the top, 10 miles and 1:45 into the race, I passed the front 5 am starter, who informed me I was now in the lead. Even if he hadn’t told me, I would have immediately figured this out due to the pleasure that only the lead runner at LV35 can experience:

Spider Webs

The LV spiders are some of the most industrious on earth, capable of building webs that can span any distance. 1 foot gap between 2 bushes and a singletrack trail? No problem. 3 foot span between handrails on 3 dozen bridges? You bet. 4 foot gap between a tree and a rock with a doubletrack trail in between? Can do. 8 foot gap between 2 trees and a fireroad? We’re on it. Fortunately, they are also very fertile, taking quite seriously their duty to multiply and fill the earth, or at least the FHT portion of it. Finally, in order to catch the huge South Carolina insects and even the stray bird or mammal, they have perfected the industrial strength web. NASA consulted with the spiders to ensure maximum adhesion and tensile strength. But the spiders want to test their strength, and so recruited Claude to put on a race for the sole purpose of having a hapless runner test the strength of hundreds of the webs, at ankle, leg, hair, chest, and (best of all) face-height. I would estimate that I encountered at least two webs each minute (this is likely an underestimate- there were sometimes 4 webs in a 20 foot span). Multiply this by 4.5 hours in the lead and… well, you get the picture. When I was lucky enough to see the sun glinting off them or a HUGE spider in the middle, I would often stop, find a stick, and swipe until the path was clear. I probably did this at least 50 times. But when I didn’t see them, or by the end when I was too tired to care, I just plowed right through. The best is when they hit right in the open mouth- by the end, you just swallow the web, hoping the spider is there for extra protein. Who needs gu?!?

(The bottom photo is an actual FHT spider web)

The Race (cont.)

The course proceeded up and down the steepest climb of the race just after Rock Creek (300 ft down the lovely stairs in about .2 mile), the crosses the huge Toxaway suspension bridge above the lake before climbing back up the mountains. The air was getting warmer, hitting mid-80’s, and I had to slow on the uphill to not overheat. After several miles of long ups and downs, I reached the much anticipated BAS at mile 17.7 and 3:13.

BAS

BAS, also known as the Barry Aid Station, was how I dealt with the lack of aid on the course. Rather than risk sickness by drinking straight from the streams, and unwilling to carry 180 oz of water or stop to filter, Barry generously volunteered to backpack 7 miles through Gorges State Park while carrying 2 gallons of water, camp overnight (in the rain with only a hammock for protection), then hike back out. The sole purpose: to refill my water and gu’s and offer a change of shoes and clothes. I arrived at the BAS to the barking of the two dogs, but Barry was no where to be found. He quickly came sprinting from the other direction, jumping into action. In less than 150 seconds, he had refilled my 90 oz of water, reloaded my gu’s and S-caps, and sent me on my way with encouraging words. By my estimate, Barry spent 25 hours (including 3.5 hiking) just for those 2.5 minutes of helping me. Friendship in its truest form- thanks, Barry. He even managed to snap this action photo of me pulling away.

The Push

After the BAS, I started doing the math in my head and realized that my 6 hr goal would be increasingly difficult. I pushed hard for the next 2 hours. Very hard. I had no idea where the next runner was behind me, though I doubted anyone would catch me. But I could not have run any harder even with someone right on my heels. This was a race, and I was determined to race it. I kept the 6 hour goal in the front of my mind, urging myself to go faster and faster. I ran up long climbs and bombed descents. My legs ached from the 90 miles I had already run that week, but they churned onwards. I crossed Horsepasture River at 3:48, estimating the last 11 miles would take about 130 minutes. The trail along Bearcamp Creek provided a relatively flat, if particularly spider-infested, break from the many climbs. It is one of my favorite sections of the trail.

By the time I reached Thompson River at mile 26.6 at 5:02, I had accepted that my sub-6 goal had slipped away. Disappointed, I pressed up and down the trail to Bad Creek access point, just trying to hang on (and also trying to outrun my own overpowering stench). The relatively flat trail followed the Whitewater River upstream for 1.5 miles across another stretch of beautiful, soft trails. Finally, the trail crosses some boulders and a bridge before the final 600 ft climb to the waterfalls overlook (complete with several hundred more stairs, of course).

Tourists crowded the platforms and steps, with one even asking why I was sweating so much (I replied it was because I had been running for the past 6 hours). I reached the top and ran down the paved trail to the picnic shelter, where only Claude, his wife, and one volunteer, Stephen Morris, were waiting. Final stats were about 31-32 miles in 6:05:50 with about 7600 climb/6700 descent (or 10,300/9600 per SportTracks).

Other racers’ family members trickled in, with Barry showing up at 12:30 with a jug of my post-run favorite chocolate milk in-hand (again, thanks). We waited another 30 minutes, with Claude jokingly asking if I had removed the (non-existent) course markers or set booby traps that stopped all the following runners. I finally went to the bathroom to wash up a bit and change clothes. I returned to find that 6 runners had arrived in that 10 minute period (including 2 ladies), led by Byron in 7:17:09. After a bit of the usual post-race chat with the finishers, Barry drove me back to my car. Thunderclouds turned to a downpour on the way, which I’m sure added some adventure for the many racers still on the course. The 2+ hr drive saw me return home at 4:30 pm, 12 hours after leaving. I was relieved that Marci hadn’t gone into labor during that time, a real possibility since she’s in her final month (thanks for letting me go do another crazy run, babe). And when told of my win, McKinley excitedly said that I am “super-duper fast!” In an interesting fact, I have entered 4 trail runs this year, winning 3 of them and DNF-ing the other. I think that is my most wins ever in one year.

Overall, the Laurel Valley 35 mile ultra is a great run. Very challenging, but very rewarding. If you want lush vegetation, picturesque waterfalls, swinging bridges, wildlife, and self-supported solitude, with just a few stairs along the way, then come try it. And let’s face it- if you read this entire novel of a race report, then you’re obviously interested! I’ll probably do this race every year I am in SC, and maybe I’ll even taper one year to give myself a decent shot of breaking 6 hrs or even 5:30. But, Clark’s CR of 5:02 is out of reach- of all the trail races I’ve ever done, I would call that the most untouchable CR ever.

Some motivational interviews

2011-07-12T18:46:00.000-07:00

I don't often post to outside links, but found some recent interviews by Paul Petersen, my good friend and Utah training partner, that I wanted to share. Paul is an amazing runner (2 time marathon OTQ, and he was the 3rd overall American at Boston this year in 2:17). He is one of the most patient runners I know training-wise. And he is perhaps the nicest guy you will ever meet. I'm very glad for the time I spent running with him- I feel you really get to know someone while running, since all pretenses seem to disappear, and I have nothing but good things to say about Paul as a runner and person. I know my other Utah running buddies, Cody and Joe, would agree. My own training is modified from a schedule that Paul took the time to make for me many years ago, drawing heavily on the teachings of Tinman. I have modified it for trail ultras, of course (Paul is a fan of 2-3 hr fast long runs, not 4-6 hr slow long runs).

Anyways, I hope you read his interviews here and here.

2011 Old Dominion 100 race report

2011-06-26T19:50:00.001-07:00

I’ve had 3 weeks now to mull over the race, and still have people asking where my report is. So here is a brief summary of the race, some thoughts, and some pictures.

Summary:

"I went to the well, and the well was dry."

-Scott Jurek, after 2009 Western States 100 DNF at mile 48

Barry and I drove 7 hrs to Woodstock on Friday. Met Eric Grossman and talked to Neal for a while. Felt pretty good, and actually slept 3 or 4 hours. Mixed feelings on the starting line- excited to finally be going, but for some reason I never felt as confident at this one as previous ultras. But I felt fit and was determined to compete for a top 3 spot. The first climb and descent went quickly as I chatted with nearby runners in the dark. The race is 60% gravel road, 40% singletrack, but the singletrack is generally pretty technical and sometimes brutal. The Boyer singletrack was a nice wakeup after some fast road miles. Pulled into the first major aid (mile 19.6) at the end of a train of the first 7 or so runners (Eric, Neal, , where I found Barry improvising as my drop bag wasn’t there yet. He did great and quickly got me on my way. My stomach got pretty unhappy around mile 25, and I almost puked a few times. Some walking and ginger drops brought it around within 5 miles, though I had lost precious time on the leaders and was about 6th place. Jon Loewus-Deitch ran side by side for awhile. A random car drove by and yelled, “Go Jon”- we were unable to determine who it was for, so decided they were cheering for both of us. Reached Four Points 1 (mile 32.6) at 4:39, 12 min ahead of schedule. Barry gave me a second water bottle, had me in and out, and onto the first tough section of the day.

I did not particularly enjoy peach orchard. Ok, I hated it. There was a technical climb, where I kept leapfrogging David Ploskonka and was passed by Karsten Brown (putting me in 5th, with Neal and Eric in front), then a steep paved descent, followed by a very long, gradual, very rocky climb. The only break over almost 11 miles was one dirt biker who had some water in his pack for us. The trail was longer than expected and very rocky. Extremely rocky terrain tends to frustrate me, since I feel my leg speed is for naught. Plus the trail was exposed and it was getting hot. I finally reached the high point of the course and was again miffed by the extreme rockiness on the downhill (it was at this point that I resolved to never run MMT 100). Jon caught me again, though I quickly pulled away down the rocks. I finally reached the aid station where the weight check showed me .5 lb heavy (so well hydrated). The next 4.5 miles were a steady drop on gravel road, and it felt good to stretch my legs again. For a while- then the pounding hurt a bit, though I was still able to pass David and move into 4th. I earned my second star here and pulled into Four Points 2 (mile 47.7) at 11:20 am (7:20 race time), 3 minutes behind schedule. Barry put a handkerchief with ice under my visor (I may patent the Ice Visor- it was great), swapped bottles, and had me on the way.

This is the trail. Honest. See the flag!?!

The ice on my head and in my bottles gave me energy to run most of the Moreland Gap uphill section, passing the 50 mile mark in 4th place and at 7:53. Other than a 3rd pit stop, I felt pretty good for a while and ran strong. I pulled into Edinburg gap (mile 56.6) at 8:50, still 3 minute behind schedule. Barry was ready for a shoe change, which only took 3 min (including washing my feet)- the aid volunteers commented on Barry’s efficiency. He told me I was 30 min behind Eric and Neal, but only 10 behind Karsten. Determined, I blazed out. Unfortunately, it would be my last blazing of the day. The trail was rocky, technical ATV trail that climbed 700 feet. By the top, I felt terrible. After 2 more pitstops and a water refill at a jug, I didn’t feel better. Instead I slowly walked downhill. My quads weren’t shot, and I was fine on hydration and calories, but I just felt terrible. Depleted. Tapped. I walked and walked, occasionally jogging for short spurts. The next 5 downhill miles were between 10-17 min pace and I was expecting the whole field to pass me. After what seemed like forever, Jeremy Pade flew by, asking to stop if there was anything he could do for me. Finally, I reached the aid station (mile 64.3) at 10:43. I had just lost 33 min in about 6 miles.

Barry went into overdrive. For the first time ever in a 100, I just sat down to rest. Collapsed, actually. Barry put bags of ice all over me and kept bringing me food and drink. 20 minutes later, he somehow talked me out of the chair and back onto the trail, side by side with Keith Knipling. After 10 min of walking, we reached the top of a long downhill. I started feeling a bit better and broke into a jog, soon pulling away from Keith. Then he passed as I had yet another pit stop (sign of internal distress?). I passed him back and started the long trail into Elizabeth Furnace at a trot. As the trail went on, I started feeling very bad again. Even worse than before. Keith flew by me as I walked down yet another hill, reassuring me Elizabeth Furnace aid (mile 75) was near. With my watch reading 13:15, I walked into the aid station, 75 minutes behind schedule. The past 18.4 miles had taken me 4:25 rather than the planned 3:08, a 41% slowdown.

I again collapsed, burying my head in my hands. I didn’t have the energy to do anything for a long time. Runners came and went- Jon Loewus-Deitch later asked me if I even knew he was there. Barry and the volunteers did their best to get me moving, with Barry particularly emphatic because he was supposed to pace me the next 12 miles over Sherman’s Gap. I pondered the situation in my head, aware that I could slowly walk the last 25 miles in what would likely be 7-8 hrs. However, I had shown up that day to compete for a win, not to limp in 4 hours behind my goal. And I had no desire to continue feeling the way I did for 25 more miles- completely tapped. My well was dry. 40 miles was a long way to slog rather than run. So I threw in the towel. Barry didn’t believe I was quitting until I actually stopped my watch at 14:15. I had covered 75 miles in 13:15 with about 9000 ft climbing.

I convinced Barry to go run the course while I got a ride to Veach West. I actually felt pretty good, walking around, talking to crews, hauling gear, etc. Barry finished the section and I had a “crew chair” set up for him, reversing our roles for the day. He was amazed at the number of rocks and thought running a 100 over them was nuts. We went to the hotel, slept, and attended the awards the next day (just for kicks). I was very excited to see that Neal had won- congrats. Then we drove home to our waiting families. On the good side, much like stopping a marathon at mile 20 instead of 26.2, I had very minimal soreness from my 75 mile jaunt.

Closing thoughts and lessons learned:

Do I wish I had finished? I’d be lying if I said no, though I’ve debated this endlessly and don’t think there is a “correct” answer. But I don’t think my weakness was in the DNF. Rather, I think my weakness was in not deciding ahead of time to finish. My only goal was a great time and competitive finish. Once that was gone, I had no desire to continue. Like I say, “go big or go home.” In retrospect, though, finishing is still important to me. A bit of a sore spot still.
Is there anything Barry or anyone else could have done to make me finish? No. They were amazing. And I didn’t quit on a whim. I weighed and decided, even knowing I would have a few regrets. I run because I enjoy it and for the challenge. That day, my body couldn’t give me the performance I wanted and I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. It isn’t near as much fun to run drastically slower than you are capable. During peak training, I abort about 1/3 of my Big Workouts because I just don’t have “it” that day. I have been very lucky in almost never having bad races. I wouldn’t say this was a terrible race- I just didn’t have “it” on a day I wanted to. Some may not understand this (like the incredulous volunteer at mile 75 as I DNF’ed while still top 10 and with 14 hours of race time remaining to travel 25 miles to the finish), but I think most of you do.
Will I run more races where I “go big or go home”? Will this result in more DNF’s? Probably yes. Maybe at UROC later this year. One self-observation is that I run within myself, perhaps too much. I run hard, but never push far outside what I know I can do. But, I’ve now reached the point where I want to find out just how fast I can be, how hard I can go, and how much I can hurt. I want to race against better competition and see what happens. Bigger reward, bigger risk. This was just the first. The DNF hurts, but I think this is a consequence of pushing harder. Hopefully I can have bigger success in the future, and maybe some more glorious flame-outs.
Do I think I was in great shape? Honestly, I think I was in better shape in April at SweetH20. I had a few good weeks since then, but think I had lost the razor edge of my fitness. I was in 90% shape, not 100%. The biggest weakness, though, was a lack of long training runs. I think I needed a few more 5-6 hr runs, plus at least one 50 mile race. I’ll have to incorporate more in my next pre-100 build up.
Will I run more 100’s? I would have said “no” for the first week, of course. And right now, I think I am better suited to 50k to 100k’s and will emphasize those more. I need more experience to rock at 100’s, which means running more 100’s. And I don’t run races for experience, I run them to race, which requires appropriate time and mileage. A big commitment. So, will I run more 100’s? I won’t do MMT or any “nutso technical/Hardrock-ish” 100 for now. I enjoy running fast too much, plus cannot currently train on sufficient technical trails to be prepared. But I’m already considering some for later this year or early next year. And, I’ve got a bone to pick with the Old Dominion course now. I don’t like anything getting the better of me, which it did. So, I’ll be very surprised if I don’t seek my revenge eventually. And next time, it’s for for keeps.

Taper for Old Dominion

2011-05-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

It's taper time. And all I can say is, I think I'll be as well acclimated for the heat as anyone there...

Pacing Massanutten 100

2011-05-15T17:38:00.001-07:00

Neal Gorman allowed me to tag along with him for almost 30 miles of his 2nd place, sub-20 hr finish at Massanutten Mountain Trails 100. He did awesome- he and Karl are the only sub-20 hr finishers of the past 5 years. Neal's time was the 10th fastest ever. I figured I’d share some of the pictures. I had a blast and learned for myself why everyone says “Massanutten ROCKS!” Long description of my day on FRB.

Neal muscling up a typical climb

Kerns Mtn had 5 unrelenting miles of this stuff. Impossible to get any sort of rhythm.

Great views of the luscious Shenandoah Valley

Rocks, rocks, leaf covered rocks, and more rocks. I wish I had my leaf blower to clear the path for Neal so he could at least see what he was running on.

Beautiful, soft, pine-covered trail. With just the occasional rock.

I call this section the Shangri-La- long, gradual descent alongside a lush ravine with a babbling brook. And not too many rocks.

Firming up my plans…

2011-04-26T20:11:00.001-07:00

My race plans for the rest of the year have been firming up, and I have a few new developments that I wanted to share.

First, the Greenville Track Club is trying to set the 100 x 5k relay world record, and I will be one of the 100 participants. It will be certified by Guinness and everything. It’s just 3 weeks away and should be a unique experience. Odds are I’ll be running one of the Saturday night legs, so all my Ragnar races will prove useful for something.

Second, I’ve written the check for my key Spring/Summer race… Old Dominion 100. Looks like I’ll be facing off against such stalwarts as Neal Gorman and Eric Grossman. Should be a blast.

Third, for about a year I have toyed with the idea of entering one of the top ultras such as Western States or The North Face 50 championships. I have had a fair amount of success in relatively small ultras so far, but always wondered how I would do against the best of the best. While I normally go out at a reasonable pace, just once I’d love to square off against the fastest and see what happens. I was therefore thrilled to read about a new race in my neck of the woods, the 100k Ultra Race of Champions. Intended to be somewhat of an ultramarathon championship, it caters to the elite and brings some of the best (i.e. the “one name” guys like Geoff, Scott, etc). I was accepted into the elite start today, and am really looking forward to this challenge. Bring it on! Now the only question is if I’ll be dumb enough to also race Grindstone 100 two weeks later…

Last but not least, the 77 mile Foothills Trail has caught me in its web. After only 2 runs on it, I am already planning when I will attempt to run the entire trail. Being a true nerd, my split projection spreadsheet is in-work and will be refined over the next 6 months (Cody and Paul, you know exactly what I am talking about). I’ll likely make my first attempt around Thanksgiving, hopefully with my Dad crewing. Am I ambitious enough to try to break the course record on my first try? You better believe it.

So there you go- my plans. Of course, I’ve got quite a few other races (a bunch of local 5k’s, Iron Mountain 50, and possibly another few ultras in Nov/Dec), but these are the recent developments. We’ll see how it goes.

Sweet H20 50k race report

2011-04-17T22:28:00.001-07:00

I think I should title this post, “The power of positive thinking” in honor of my psychologist father. He is always talking about positive self talk, believing in yourself, etc. Well, going into this race, I had somehow decided that I was going to win. I didn’t care if the whole Boulder Nation showed up, this race was mine. I don’t think I was being cocky, just determined. I knew my training and I just had a feeling. I told no one about this- not my trail buddy, Barry, not my wife, not even the awesome Jason and Weezy, who were kind enough to give me a ride to the start and who I just non-challantly told, “I just want to finish” before directing the conversation back to them. I was so determined that I didn’t bother memorizing the course, predicting aid station splits, or looking up past results of every registrant, things I will usually do in my anal-ness (though ultrasignup.com usually makes the latter much easier). Course record was 4:20 in 2009, and I was thinking 4:30 seemed possible (although frequent course changes make comparing times difficult, evidenced by the 5:18 winning time in 2010).

Sweet H20 50k is a 2-loop, wonderful race in the Georgia state park of the same name (well, technically it is Sweetwater Creek state park, not Sweet H20) and is one of the more competitive trail races in the southeast. I found it to be a nice mix of fast flats and hills, technical and smooth, water, foilage, and dirt.

I had a typical, 4-star warmup in the beautiful, 55-deg temps that would rise to a humid 75. At the start-line briefing, however, the RD informed us that the monster thunderstorms that dumped 2” of rain on us in the past 12 hours would result in a course change. Instead of the normal rope-assisted, 2x crossing of the now-raging creek, we would add a 1.5 mile paved section.

The raging “creek”- yup, no crossing it this year [note: I didn’t carry a camera, so all pictures courtesy of my fellow runners and their blogs- thanks, y’all]

With that briefing, the race started and I found myself in a fast-moving pack. I recognized Jay Aldous, visiting from SLC, so we chatted briefly, and I also met Jim Bickelhaupt, the previous year champ. The 6:18 first mile seemed brisk, but not overly strenuous. After 1.5 miles of pavement, we plunged onto the not-too muddy but rather-twisty singletrack. I settled into the back of the 5 person lead pack. We found water almost immediately with a shin-deep river crossing, then a knee-deep creek crossing, before the trail began following the Sweetwater Creek, occasionally plunging into its now-flooded banks. Coming from Utah with the typical long climbs to start most trail races that I usually ease into, the fairly flat trail resulted in a much faster run than normal. But, I adjusted and just focused on biding my time and relaxing. The pack got stacked up at a few of the more technical areas (long wooden stairs, old deadfall, places where the river overflowed its banks onto the trail), which was a bit annoying. I took a leak to let the pack get ahead.

The first, and easiest, water crossing

Despite what seemed a fast speed, I was surprised how quickly I caught back up, which was reassuring. The pack generally stayed together past aid 2, reaching the infamous hills together. What the course lacks in long climbs are made up for in very steep, numerous “rollers” of sometimes surprising severity (as the RD says, “The hill you just suffered up is far easier than the ones that lie ahead”)- to give you an idea, mile 10/26 was my only 10+ min mile (11:53, 12:47), and was a full 3 minutes slower than the next slowest mile. The first set of rollers follow a sewer line, and seems to stretch on in a long-line of hills. I rather enjoyed them, though, particularly when we reached the open hill named Top of The World.

Sewer line- it’s like a never-ending roller coaster. Minus the coaster part.

We reached aid 3 at mile 11 in 1:30, at which time I decided to break up the pack. I surged hard, increasing my pace 60+ sec/mile. The pack strung out, with only Dennis Bauer holding on. I saw Barry on a short out-and-back- he ran ended up running a 5:36 in his first-ever ultra despite minimal training due to injury- awesome work! We left TOTW to enter the Power Line, more hills that were now even steeper and longer than the sewer line- unrunnable up, and almost unrunnable down. Fortunately, there were only 2 or 3 of these before we reached the creek again. I will say, however, that I had been adequately warned about all these hills, and the mental preparation made them actually enjoyable and relatively short. More like hurdles rather than barriers. (Plus being used to 4000 ft climbs in the Rockies makes any of these climbs seem short... although it is a lot easier to say that now than when I was trudging up them).

The docile part of Power line

Dennis hung with me up Jack’s Hill and aid 4. The course enters a wonderfully-fast, narrow, pine-needle covered singletrack here, which we flew down before completing the first loop (2:08 for 16 miles) and being deposited on the 1.5 mile, paved re-route as we started the second lap. Feeling each other out, the pace increased even more, with a 6:15 mile 17. Interestingly, as fast as I thought we ran at the start of the race for the first 8 miles, every one of those miles was faster on lap 2! Dennis seemed relaxed and posed some serious competition.

At the start of the singletrack at mile 17.5, I stopped for a 30 second pit stop. I imagine Dennis was grateful for being spotted a lead like that. Feeling relieved, I quickly discovered the trail was now much slicker thanks to 500 wet shoes that had traversed it a few hours previous, requiring careful footing and a few falls. I ran hard to catch up, but was surprised to time Dennis a full 60 seconds ahead of me at mile 20- he was hauling! I also noted the creek had noticeably risen since lap 1, with one crossing now almost waist deep (I think we had 20 crossings at least ankle deep, so my shoes were squishy the entire race). I kept telling myself that I would still win the race, and just needed to run my race and Dennis would come back to me. After 4 miles of solitude, he rapidly reappeared at mile 24 and seemed to be hurting. When I passed him, he simple commented that he was dead, and that the fast road miles had been a bit much. I encouraged him but tried to increase the distance on the steep parts.

Even better the second time around…

Much to his credit, Dennis hung near me for a few miles, up and down sewer line. He was very stubborn, only slowing falling back. He made a wrong turn somewhere near TOTW, unfortunately, which permanently set him back. By aid 3, he was 4 minutes behind. On the out-and-back, I saw Jay and Matthew Hoffman 10 minutes back, dueling for third. Interestingly, my split to aid 3 was identical to the first lap. I hadn’t slowed down at all over that section.

The last 6 miles were appropriately painful, though I had targets as I began lapping runners. The stumbles increased as the pace decreased, losing one min/mile versus lap 1. I reflected a bit on how my goal was coming true, though too much internal reflection is difficult at this point as your legs feel as though they are trying to detach and/or eat themselves, and your body is doing its best to force you to lay down and cease the forced nuttiness. I crossed the finish line in 4:23:20. Dennis finished just 3 minutes back, and Jay claimed third in 4:32. Total distance of 32.5 miles. Not sure how much elevation- SportTracks says 5500, but Garmin Connect says 2800. Probably somewhere between.

A small crowd, including Marci and the girls, were waiting at the finish. Aspen immediately walked up to me and wanted to be held, which I obliged once I could stand. Seeing my family at the finish often causes me to tear up- finishing these races can be emotional, and having my family share it brings my two biggest loves together. Marci probably just thinks I’m a wuss. It was enjoyable to then sit by Marci and watch the finishers trickle in while eating some great post-race bbq chicken. The RD, Johnny, went out of his way to greet each finisher, gifting them a nice hat and a cold bottle of water. I won a HUGE, glass mug that puts all my other race mugs to shame- this one must weight several pounds and will be used often. Awesome. Marci humored me as I spent several hours talking with other runners, eating, and resting in typical ultra finishline manner- plus she finally was able to meet Barry (especially nice since he has lent us half his tools for Marci’s home improvement projects). Aspen seemed genuinely worried that 4th place finisher Matthew was dead, since he had laid out a mat and promptly fallen into a deep sleep. But, eventually, we headed back to the hotel for a shower and lunch.

In my whole running career, I can think of maybe 3 or 4 other times where I was so determined and set on a goal and then met it. Believe in yourself, do the appropriate work, and anything is possible. Anything.

If anyone is still reading this lengthy monologue, I have to give a final shout out the RD. This is an excellent race that I highly recommend. Great, challenging course with a wide variety of terrain, good aid stations, and some of the best course markings I’ve seen. You can tell he loves this race and puts a lot of time into it. Thanks, Johnny.

The most important time of the year

2011-04-09T11:08:00.000-07:00

I believe I have just wrapped up the most important time of the year. My base is established- past 5 weeks averaged 81 mpw. I'll keep upping the mileage to 90-100 mpw, but I've found that a month of 80+ gets me to decent racing shape. Now, I can focus on speedwork and peaking. Thanks to a nice SC winter, I'm about 2 months ahead of where I usually am this time of the year, though I'll likely take a little time off in the heat of the summer. But it feels great to be in shape and running strong one week prior to my first big race of the year with no real niggles (other than the twisted ankle from today).

Personally, I would guess the typical runner doesn't establish a big enough base to reach their racing peak. The Runner's World-type training program just doesn't have enough mileage and has too many days off/cross-training to allow most runners to reach their true potential. Everyone is different in how many miles they can handle, but it seems lots of people try to "gimmick" their way to fast times, rather than establishing a true base. I don't think speedwork does much good until a nice base is in place. My most common advice to new runners is to just run as many miles as you can, day-in and day-out, and the rest will take care of itself.

Thoughts, anyone?

Foothills Drifter 6k race report

2011-02-05T19:42:00.001-08:00

Today was my second short race of the year, the 2nd annual Foothills Drifter 6k, held at Lake Conestee Park. It’s a short trail race, with about 1 mile of pavement and the rest twisty singletrack. We had almost 3 inches of rain this week, including rain all day yesterday and a thunderstorm at 4 am this morning that kept me awake for a while. As the race director said, last year the course was snowy, this year it was flooded. It is a twisty loop with only 250 ft climbing and equal descent.

For perhaps the first time ever, I got lost trying to find the start, but a helpful gas station attendant got me there with plenty of time to spare. The weather at the start was 40 deg with misty rain, perfect temps for singlet, shorts, arm warmers, and light gloves. There were about 200 runners, including a few guys who looked very fast and made my think my bib number (3) might be the expected finishing place. I normally finish short races such as 5k’s with too much energy, feeling I could have gone faster. I decided this time to really go balls-to-the-wall right from the start, figuring that there is no way I can outrun my endurance (i.e. even if I go too fast and die, my good endurance will keep me moving).

The first 100 yards are downhill on road before the singletrack starts, and I found myself in 3rd place. The trail almost immediately started twisting and turning, which would continue the whole race, with a fair amount of roots and other tripping hazards to make the race fun. A minute later, the puddles arrived. They were up to 20 ft long and covered the entire width of the trail, so we all plunged in. I would say 20% of the course was either puddles up to ankle deep, running water, or super-sloppy mud, so I loved it. About a half mile in, my feet slipped out as I tried to navigate a puddle-covered turn, falling side-first into the 6” deep water and completely soaking my clothes (nothing like a 40 deg bath to wake you up). I hopped up, squeezing the water from my gloves, and charged on. The difficulty of following right behind 2 guys, coupled with my fall, gave me adequate incentive to take the lead. On a short uphill I charged into first place. We reached mile 1 in 5:54, which seemed very fast to me given the technicality and puddles on the course. I was happy to be that fast, and, while breathing rather hard, felt strong.

During the next mile I continued to pull away from the other runners. The course has a few almost-180 deg turns, which allowed me to see that I was distancing myself from everyone else. I was glad to be leading, especially on the wet turns and particularly on the wooden (read: slippery) bridges and boardwalks over the swamp. There were a number of locations with spectators cheering and taking pictures, which was also nice. The constant turns were enjoyable and kept me energized with multiple changes of pace. Mile 2 was 6:17, and I knew I was working harder than my road 5k a few weeks ago. Mile 3 was more mud, bridges and singletrack and passed in 6:19. The last .6 miles is on pavement, so I pushed hard and finished at 5:43 pace. Total time was 21:53 for 3.6 miles (6:06 avg), 21 seconds ahead of 2nd place and almost a minute faster than last year’s CR. I was appropriately tired but very pleased with my effort, especially how I ran as fast as I could. I would definitely say this was a better effort than my 5:28-paced 5k in January, and more enjoyable by nature of being a trail race.

The finish was awesome- the sponsors have tons of prizes and a huge raffle. Everyone gets a shirt and smartwool socks in their bag. Then, they give prizes to 3 deep in each age group. I won a nice hydration pack plus a free pair of Salomon trail shoes for the overall win- sweet. They also pulled my name to win a Suunto watch in the raffle, but had them give it to someone who hadn’t won anything yet. The overall race organization, course, course markings, and especially the awards were top notch- I’d highly recommend this as a nice trail race… as long as you want to have a fun time and don’t mind getting very muddy.

Thoughts on race entry fees

2011-01-27T19:13:00.001-08:00

I am not a fan of high race entry fees, a sentiment many of you likely share. When it comes to a race, I’m pretty basic in terms of what I expect:

A good course (no unsafe road crossings, well-marked, preferably good views, and proper length- though we’ll give a pass on length to trail races, where it’s understood that distances are approximate)
Appropriate aid on the course (may range from nothing at a 5k to lots and lots in an ultra)
Some food and maybe small awards at the finish (it’s unpleasant to finish an ultra to find no food provided, as happened to me this summer)
Sufficient bathrooms at the start
Accurate timing with online results

That’s pretty much it. Easy registration and packet pickups are nice, but not necessary. And I love it when races have a “no shirt” option to save me a few bucks.

I know much of the running community now expects more bells and whistles from a race, like bands along the course, huge expo’s, well-stocked goodie bags, big-name sponsors, etc. That’s fine, but it’s not for me. I balk at paying almost $300 for a marathon (NYC), or even $100+ (RnR marathons). And $50 for a 10k or $90 for a half marathon is just as bad. Too much commercialization.

More and more, I find myself avoiding those races like the plague and seeking the low-key races, even if they are further away. Besides the lower entry fees, there’s a special feeling at low-key races… the type where the RD isn’t trying to get rich, the locals playfully banter at the start and argue about how many of them have run it all 17 years, the pre-race instructions are comical and short, the course is sheer enjoyment, and you win a homemade pie at the finish while the RD’s wife cooks brats or buffalo stew for the finishers.

Two races stand out in my mind that epitomize these characteristics. The Garland Wheat & Beet in Garland, UT is a nice road race. The course is a simple out-and-back on a little-traveled country road. After the 10k/5k, all the participants gather to cheer the kids in the 1 mile fun-run. The fee is only $3 for the non-competitive entry (no shirt, not eligible for award), but you are still eligible for an awesome, all-you-can-eat breakfast cooked by the local fire department and for the raffle (which had enough prizes for almost everyone except Paul to win something). And all the money goes to the local library.

The second race is the Iron Mountain 50/30/16 mile in Damascus, VA. Entry is only $25 for any of the distances (if you don’t want a shirt), and it’s obvious the RD loves the race. The course is a beautiful singletrack, with just enough aid stations. They have a quirky challenge at the finish, where they award a prize to whoever can do the most sit-ups and push-ups -I didn’t do any, but unique things like this add to the fun. Everyone was treated to a nice bbq after, and all finishers took home a jar of fruit preserves.

My personal threshold for race entry fees is usually $3 per race mile. I’ll pay a bit more for short races (you can’t find many $10 5k’s), and like it lower for longer races ($300 for a 100 miler seems high- sorry Western States).

As I look at my races for the year, all of them are under the $3/mile level, with a grand total of 488 miles of races for $645. My next 5 races (SweetH20 50k ($50), Dairy Ridge Fat Ass 50k ($0), Twisted Ankle marathon ($45), Old Dominion 100 ($135), and Iron Mtn 50 ($25)) total 238 race miles for $255, less than the price of New York City marathon.

If huge, commercialized, expensive races with F-16 flyovers, mid-race boy bands, and TV coverage result in more people participating and getting fit, I think that is great. But for me, I’ll keep running my well-priced, low-hype, quirky and friendly local races. Hope you join me for a few.

Run Downtown 5k

2011-01-22T08:05:00.000-08:00

After not doing any road races in 15 months and not running a 5k in 18 months, I registered for the Greenville "Run Downtown 5k", which is part of the corporate running competition around town. And I can definitely say I enjoyed myself and am very glad my lunch running buddies talked me into running the race.

My training has been very sub-par since the Bear 100 in September, with only 12 total miles of speedwork (yes, 12 miles in 4 months) and no weekly mileage above 60 until the past few weeks. Needless to say, I was not expecting much, hoping to be 17:30 but thinking 18 was more likely. It's a big race (2000 people) with a fair amount of competition.

The morning dawned cold, about 30 degrees, overcast, and breezy. After a long warmup, I stripped to my brand new GE singlet, green shorts, arm warmers, gloves, and hat. Most racers wore more, but a few wore less. I was appropriately cold for a 5k. The race started with a short downhill, then a gradual, 100 ft elevation climb to the 1 mile marker. I was simply happy to be running fast the first mile, and found myself just behind the chase pack at the 1 mile mark at 5:37. I was working hard, but breathing was relaxed. Mile 2 was almost all downhill, which I loved. I pushed the pace, and began passing several runners, including GE teammate Phil and the Chick-fil-a cow (the cow was a guy wearing a giant cow outfit- he had a 3 minute head start, and anyone who beat him won a free Chick-fil-a sandwich. He finished in 19:32 race time (22:32 his time)- not bad at all). Mile 2 was 5:26, and I started to believe that my legs had enough speed to carry me to a decent finish time.

Mile 3 starts off with a 70 ft climb in .3 mile, then a gradual downhill to the finish. I had 2 runners ahead of me, one of whom was slowing. I focused on him, pulling him closer with each stride. I caught him with maybe 400 meters to go and was surprised to see the other runner just a few meters ahead. I pulled even with him, trying to determine who had more in the tank. I made a move, which he failed to match at first, but then accelerated. My legs were churning as fast as I could the last 200 meters and my head began to float around the street due to lack of oxygen. I'm not sure I had ever felt so close to passing out during a sprint. With one final push, I passed the finish line at 16:58, 2 strides ahead of the runner behind me. Final 1.1 mile in 5:55 (5:22 pace- including the 70 ft climb).

Officially, the timing chip somehow put me at 17:00 and says the runner behind me out-chipped me, placing me in 15th. Oh well- but I'm still claiming the 16:58, since my watch time was exact for me. 11 of the 14 runners ahead of me were young bucks- age 15 to 24. Those guys rock at 5k's. I was exhausted at the finish (like you should be for a 5k), but recovered within 30 seconds to start running around cheering for people. After some cheering and congratulations among the large GE contingent, and a few cool down miles with Barry, I called it a day. And I'll admit, after so many ultras, it was strange to be gone only 2.5 hours for a race.

I really enjoyed this fast race- it seemed to have a lot more downhill than up, even though it was a loop, and was just hilly enough to break up the monotony of running pavement. Plus, there was a steady stream of runners to keep up the challenge- I never felt like I was in no-man's land. I am happy to be within 25 seconds of my PR with low mileage and no speedwork, and enjoyed passing runners the last 2 miles (I think I passed 8-10, while none passed me), and finally had a good kick. I've committed to at least one more corporate race, an off-road 6k cross country race. Should be fun. Then, back to the longer trail races.

2011 goals and races

2011-01-10T20:15:00.001-08:00

One big difference I have found from moving across the country is that the races are all new and unfamiliar to me. This gives a bit of suspense and adventure in choosing what races to do. In addition, I haven't firmed up if I want to do some longer ultras (100k or 100m) or keep it shorter. So, I've chosen a few races early this year, and pretty much have a long list of potential races later in the year. Only my first race is firm. The runs later in the year that most interest me are Grindstone 100, Rock/Creek StumpJump, and Mountain Masochist Trail Run.

Goals: Run 3000+ miles, win 2 races, run one 100-miler, and set a PR at any distance

Potential races:

Foothills Drifter 6k (Feb 5)

Dupont Forest 12k (Mar 26)

Sweet H20 50k (Apr 2)

Morris Broadband half marathon (Apr 9)

Dairy Ridge Fat Ass 50k (Apr 16)

Scenic City Trail Marathon (May 21)

Paris Mtn 11k (May 28)

Old Dominion 100 miler (Jun 4)

Paris Mtn 7k (Aug 13)

Iron Mountain 30 or 50 mile (Sept 3)

Grindstone 100 (Sept 30)

Rock/Creek StumpJump 50k (Oct 1)

The North Face challenge (Oct 15)

Mountain Masochist Trail Run (Nov 5)

Paris Mtn 15k (Nov 5)

Upchuck 50k (Nov 12)

Bartram 100s (Dec 10)

Hellgate 100k (Dec 10)

Lookout Mountain 50miler (Dec 17)

So there you have it. I'll probably end up running 7 or 8 races, is my best guess. We'll see- I obviously have a lot to figure out, but it will be fun.

2010 Year In Review

2011-01-04T19:26:00.001-08:00

2010 was my most enjoyable year ever in running, with my focus on trails and trail races. I can probably break the year into a few distinct seasons:

· Jan and Feb- My first 100 mile race, with a bunch of cross training before and after due to injury.

· Mar to Jun- slow build up to get into racing shape, with a few races thrown in (Buffalo Run 25k, Pocatello 50)

· Jun to Aug- peak training with lots of long trail runs, my highest weekly mileage ever (116), and some great races (Logan Peak, Grand Mesa 50, El Vaquero Loco 50k, Iron Mtn 30)

· Sept- The culmination of two years of training at the Bear 100

· Oct to Dec- offseason with few miles and a few enjoyable long runs (Grand Canyon and Shut In Ridge Run), but a general lack of training due to no goals or races planned for 2011

I mostly met my goals set at the start of the year:

· Run 3000 miles- finished with 3104, lower than 2009 but still enough. Easily could have been higher had I put in more effort after the Bear, but I even said at the end of 2009 that I didn’t expect to top my mileage from that year due to decreasing returns.

· Stay injury free- no major injuries once I recovered from my Rocky Raccoon hip issues, but I did have a fair number of minor issues at times that definitely added up and slightly affected performance.

· Top 5 at Pocatello 50 and Bear- I DNF’ed from Pocatello and it was later cancelled due to snow. Kind of a wash. Very happy with my 4^th place at the Bear 100.

· Win at least one race- got this one with wins at Grand Mesa 50+ and Iron Mountain 30.

I’ll finish off with a summary of some of my best and worst memories from the year:

Highlights-

· 4^th place at the Bear 100. I had been focusing on this race for 2 years, training on the course and building up my long runs. The race went as well as I had hoped, thanks to an awesome crew of David, Cody, and Joe. I can’t help but smile every time I think of Joe running back for my sunscreen and adding up vertical feet remaining, Cody feeding me his shot blocks, taking blurry pictures with his cell phone, and getting way too much enjoyment from our 35 miles, and Dave trying to keep me awake and moving towards the finish before our moonlit finish.

· Focus on trails- every single race and every single long run was on trails.

· My “between jobs” month as a full-time runner. I’m not sure this month can ever be beat. 22 runs, every single one on trails, and 8 of them over 2.5 hrs in length. I carried a camera everywhere and took dozens of pictures to help me remember the experiences. I ran the entire Great Western Trail in Cache Valley, too, by the time I left Utah.

· Dozens of spectacular trail runs with Cody, Joe, and Paul. We crossed lots of new runs off my bucket list (Stump Hollow, Mt. Elmer, Richards Hollow, High Creek Lake, Wellsvilles). Way too much time running with Cody. 10 runs of marathon distance or longer. I could spend hours just remembering the little runs, like when I passed some cross country skiers 4 times as I ran up and down the snow packed Green Canyon during a peaceful snowstorm.

· A good racing season, once I got in shape- all trail races, my first 100 mile race at Rocky Raccoon, a few wins and CR’s, and a perfect culmination at the Bear. The scenery and camaraderie at trail races is awesome- I’m not sure I’ll ever see a more picturesque scene than 4 miles into El Vaquero Loco. Logan Peak, Grand Mesa, El Vaquero Loco, Iron Mountain- all great races. Even my not-in-shape races (Buffalo run, Shut In Ridge) were enjoyable. And Pocatello 50 was just an adventure to laugh at- hypothermic, DNF, locking keys in Cody’s car… I won’t forget that day.

· Finally setting a good record on Jardine Juniper trail.

· Grand Canyon R2R2R with Rob and Cody was a spectacular end to the season.

Lowlights-

· Too many minor injuries- always seemed to have a few niggles

· Moving to South Carolina put a real damper on my trail running

I have nothing but good memories from this year. I spent countless hours with my running partners, met so many great people at races, saw some amazing scenery, climbed many mountains, and moved to a new location- thanks to all of you who shared it with me. Special thanks goes to my wife and daughters for their patience and support- my daughters are very used to seeing their “daddy running in the mountains”. Now I just have to figure out what 2011 will bring… but that’s for tomorrow. For now, I’ll just remember what a great year it was.

[Editor's note- I forgot to thank Marci for spending some time doodling on Microsoft Paint, making the new header on my blog page]

Shut In Ridge Run

2010-11-07T15:01:00.001-08:00

I heard about the Shut In Ridge Run shortly after arriving in Greenville. The race is 32 years old, so you know any trail race around that long has to be good. Many consider it the classic mountain run in the Southeast. It starts near Asheville, NC, and runs up the Shut In Ridge trail to near Mt Pisgah at 5250 elevation, roughly paralleling the Blue Ridge Parkway. A total of 17.8 miles, climbing 5300 ft and descending 2500 ft (possibly my first race ever that finishes appreciably higher than it starts). The winning time is usually around 2:30, and you're doing pretty well if you can beat your road marathon time. I was number 75 on the wait list in August, so was happy to get my acceptance letter.

Lots of uphill...

Temps were warm the past 2 years but snowy and cold this year. The weather was bad enough, in fact, that they weren't sure we would run the regular course until 10 minutes before the race. Fearing a Pocatello 50 recap and knowing the weather would be worse 3000 ft up, I dressed warmly- beanie, short and long shirt, arm warmers, gloves, and 2 shorts. I was a bit warm at times, but cold at others as the wind and snow picked up. I had tempered expectations going in due to a few injuries and lack of recent training, so figured 2:45-3 hrs seemed realistic. I mainly wanted to enjoy myself and the amazing autumn views of the beautiful Blue Ridge mountains.

Autumn views during yesterday’s race

The first 3 miles were on leaf-covered fire roads, then the remainder of the race was on narrow singletrack. The trail varied from smooth and fast to very rocky and technical. It was 95% runnable, with a few steep walking sections, including the last climb to Mt. Pisgah (I had heard the last part was brutal- while I'll agree it was steep, but nothing unusual compared to many of my runs this year. Certainly not as steep as portions of Wahsatch or Jupiter Steeplechase, Pocatello 50, or the Bear). However, an almost continuous covering of wet leaves (and snow on all the north-facing slopes) made seeing the rocks and roots very difficult and the footing occasionally slippery. I loved every minute of it!

This obviously isn’t me, but shows typical trail footing- wet leaves obscuring rocks and roots

We started with a 6:19 mile, so pretty fast. I had settled into about 20th spot by mile 3 aid, where I would stay for a while. Marci and my daughters cheered me at this aid station. I was running fairly hard yet controlled. Miles 4-8 are the flattest of the race and I enjoyed stretching out the legs. Miles 8-10 are steadily uphill but my legs had plenty of climbing power. Miles 10-12 were a bit of a low spot, but I got a strong second wind at mile 13 and pushed hard, passing a number of runners while enjoying the occasional beautiful vista. I had moved into 12th place at the mile 15.5 aid station, where the girls were again cheering me on.

Feeling good around mile 15

The real fun started after the aid station, with the trail climbing 1100 ft in 1.5 miles up Mt. Pisgah. I passed 1 last runner on the climb (using the word “passed” in the most liberal of terms- kind of like a turtle passing a snail at this stage of the race), then had a final, very technical, short downhill to the finish. Finished in 11th place, 2:49:29.

View of Mt. Pisgah from the finish- the front side is steeper

At the finish

I am very glad I ran this race. It was nice to have a fairly low-key run. I generally felt good, enjoyed the competition, and can’t say enough about the views of the mountains. Plus it was well organized with lots of aid stations. The stained-glass trophys went 20-deep, so I got one. Marci really liked the fact that I didn’t know a single runner, so we left fairly soon after the finish (also due to Aspen spilling a lot of water on her pants, very cold for her in the 30-deg, windy weather). Marci asked if I will do this race again. My reply is that I want to look for other races that I could do (finding all new races is a benefit of moving across the country), but will definitely consider it. It was a fun, beautiful, challenging course- can’t beat that.

Grand Canyon R2R2R

2010-10-12T20:50:00.001-07:00

Given the beauty of the Grand Canyon, the pictures come first...

Sunset on the North Rim

The beauty and challenge of the North Kaibab trail... can you see the winding trail and the bridge down at the bottom?

It doesn’t say to not hike from the Rim to the river to the other Rim to the river and back to the first Rim… so this must be ok, right?

Rob and Cody in Bright Angel slot canyon- peaceful and cool

Headed towards Phantom Ranch and the South Rim

The gang at Phantom Ranch

Where else can you see views like this?

Typical canyon running

On the South Rim

Entering the tunnel at Silver Bridge

Cody at mile 48...

...Jon at mile 48...

... and Rob at mile 48. (He who struggles the most ultimately learns the most and will have the fondest memories. And for the record, Rob asked me to post this picture...)

Finished, back at the trailhead. Can you guess who worked the hardest based on facial expression?

Like Joe said, “It’s mostly flat, other than actually getting into and out of the canyon”

Last November, I ran the Grand Canyon rim to rim to rim (R2R2R) with Davy and company. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and immediately began planning a trip this year. However, the whole thing was in doubt when I moved to South Carolina... but a timely trip back to Utah gave me just enough time to sneak in the run. There were as many as 15 people interested at one time, and it appeared Geoff Roes would be joining us before he had to bow out. Ultimately, Cody and Rob Murphy were the only people who ended up coming. I was excited for a great trip.

After a quick, delicious breakfast at Rob's house (thanks again), we drove to the North Rim on Sunday and enjoyed the overlooks and sunset. I never saw the North Rim during the day last time, since we started and finished at night, so enjoyed the views. After a very fitful night of rest (I think I slept only 2 hours), we started our run at 4:30 am. The first 2 hours before sunrise seemed to pass quickly as we descended the steep and windy trail. Dawn found us cruising along the relatively flat Bright Angel canyon, a unique desert that happens to be surrounded by 5000 ft cliffs. We crossed the Colorado River at 6:30 am and began the climb up Bright Angel trail. Temperatures were nice as we were still in the shade, though the number of hikers on the trail increased dramatically. I felt good and enjoyed the climb and overlooks. We reached the South Rim in a relaxed 5 hours running time (plus 45+ min for stops). After a few pictures and food purchases, we were on our way down.

Rob struggled with his footing a bit on the descent, but never went off trail or fell. I focused on staying smooth and was pleased that my quads never got shot.Apparently a summer full of trail running results in bomb-proof downhill quads. The run down the South Rim is enjoyable because you see many of the same people from the previous hours, and they realize exactly how crazy these R2R2R runners are. In fact, rather than the typical comments (i.e. “I'll pay you to carry me), we had people encouraging us all along the way. At one point, a few groups even began applauding and cheering for us- I can't recall that ever happening before during a trail run. The temperatures were rapidly rising, though, with the thermometer reading 85 when we once again reached to river.

Rob continued on while Cody and I made a 20 min detour to see the Black Bridge and the tunnels. After a quick photo op, we stopped by Phantom Ranch to refill water and talk to some more interesting campers. I enjoy the many conversations with the variety of people hiking the Grand Canyon, all of whom have a love of the outdoors. After using only one bottle up to this point, we filled both bottles for the leg back to Cottonwood campground. After a few miles in the slot canyon, we were completely exposed to the hot sun and almost 90 deg temps for over an hour. Cody was still strong, but I began overheating and slowed down after ~mile 38. Our 7:15 pace a few hours earlier over this stretch was now a 10-15 min pace. Fortunately, a fortuitous creek crossing allowed me to soak my shirt, and we pressed on to the campground where Rob was waiting. We spent a few minutes talking to the crew of Rangers and volunteers working on the camp, then ran to the house water stop.

The house is really the start of the climb up the North Rim, gaining 4000+ ft in just over 5 miles. Rob had never run longer than 26 road miles and 3.5 hours in his life, so our 8+ hour trail run was really taxing his limits (as he told his wife afterwards, he was very wrong when he assumed the trail would be smooth and fast, and he felt very tired for much of the run). But he was mentally tough and pushed hard. Cody was pulling us from the front, making sure were were running most of the reasonable grades. I began feeling better at about mile 44, and thereafter just enjoyed finally seeing the beauty of the North Rim and annoying Rob and Cody with my non-stop blabber and lame jokes. The last few miles are very steep and challenging, but Rob kept putting one foot in front of the other and we reached the finish just before the 11 hour running-time mark (about 13 hrs including stops). Considering that the climb up the North Rim is 1500 ft higher than the South, plus our fatigue and the heat, I was very surprised and happy that our return trip was less than 1 hour slower than the outbound trip. After a quick shower, we drove all the way home. Aided by massive amounts of sugar and caffeine on the drive, Cody and I bid adieu to Rob in SLC and reached Logan just before 4 am.

R2R2R is a truly awesome run. Including the detour, it was 48.5 miles with over 11,000 ft climbing (my garmin said 32,000 ft climbing, and even Sporttracks recorded 20,000, due to the poor satellite reception in the canyons). The beauty and solitude is truly unique. The Grand Canyon has a grandeur and splendor that is unmatched. Running along beautiful, rugged trails, surrounded by red and white cliffs thousands of feet high and billions of years old... words are incapable of doing it justice. A rim to rim hike/run should be on every reasonably-fit person’s bucket list. It’s simply a wonderful, beautiful, challenging experience. Rob and Cody, thanks for sharing the experience with me- I loved every minute of it. For the rest of you, a few pictures from the journey will have to suffice.

The Bear 100

2010-09-28T21:50:00.000-07:00

I remember when rock was young…

Have you ever had the song “Crocodile Rock” by Elton John stuck in your head for the better part of a day? I rarely run with an iPod but usually have a song in my head, often the last one I heard before the run started. I rather enjoy having music roll around and around in my head for hours on end. I recall that “Bartender” by Dave Matthews Band accompanied me for most of Grand Mesa 50, while Van Halen’s “Right Now” was the song of choice during El Vaquero Loco. Several hours into the Bear 100, though, I realized that “Crocodile Rock” was repeating again and again in my head. I can’t recall the last time I heard this song—probably years ago. Nor could I figure out why my mind grabbed onto that particular diddy, but it would be in the forefront of my mind for the entire race. But I'm getting ahead of myself…

Fall colors in the Bear River Range

In Sept 2008, Paul invited me to work the Richards Hollow aid station at the Bear 100. Though I had enjoyed running trails since high school, I had only recently begun dabbling in trail racing. Seeing these ultrarunners at the aid station so inspired me that I decided I would run the Bear in 2 years. First, I wanted to break 6:00 pace in a marathon, which I checked off my list Sept 2009. Then I started a slow ultrarunning buildup, including completing the Ogden Valley 50, Rocky Raccoon 100, and several other ultras. I also ran on the Bear course as often as I could, usually accompanied by Cody, and ran more trails and more vertical than ever before. In fact, we ran every step of the Bear while training, and had completed some portions dozens of times. As race day approached, an untimely move to South Carolina and several injuries (plantar, Achilles) threatened my race. And while I can critically point to several weaknesses in my training, I’ve long since realized that nothing ever goes as planned. I had thoroughly enjoyed my training all year and finally reached the starting line confident that I was in the best long-distance trail running shape of my life. Hopefully this would equate to a good race. I was excited to go toe-to-toe with the many great runners who had registered, but knew that a 100 mile race is primarily a race only against yourself.

Just a few hills along the way...

Me and Suzie had so much fun / holding hands and skimming stones

The Bear 100 is a point-to-point race with roughly 23,000 ft climbing and 22,000 ft descending through the Bear River Mountains of Northern Utah, just as the fall leaves are changing. Cody, David, and Joe had all kindly volunteered to pace and crew me during the entire ordeal. I had spent hundreds of hours studying maps (Paul made me some awesome course maps that I loved), planning splits, and arranging gear. I felt 21 hours was a very realistic goal for me, which would place in the top 2-3 most years, though had splits for 20, 21, 22, and 24 hours in my crew packet. My splits account for even effort throughout the race, and base each split on elevation change, trail roughness, fatigue, heat, and night. Yes, I am a nerd.

Ready to go at the start with Cody

I flew to Utah on Thursday, where I saw my family for the first time in 5 weeks. I spent most of the day arranging and rearranging my gear, which was enough to invade a small country. After a few hours of sleep, Cody drove me to the start. I got a few strange looks as I ran to warm up- most people just stood around. David and Paul showed up just a minute before we started. I wanted to start very slow, so entered Dry Canyon with a big crowd ahead of me. I soon found myself near Mike Foote and Scott Jaime, and was happy that we walked the majority of the uphill as we talked. I paused to water a bush and was passed by a whole train of people. I passed them back before the top, plus Davy Crockett, and enjoyed the first run of the day down South Syncline. I had no idea what place I was in, but thought a grundle people were ahead of me. I reached Logan Peak aid exactly on 21 hour schedule at 8:14 am, which reassured me that my slow pace was appropriate. I passed a few people right after the aid, including Bruce Copeland, who told me that I was in 5th place. I didn’t believe him.

Had an old gold Chevy and a place of my own

The downhill from Millville Peak really worried me. It is on a rocky, rough dirt road, and I really struggled to keep a good pace going and believed I was falling far behind. I feared that I would not have my downhill legs all day, a discouraging thought. Fortunately, I soon reached the beautiful Leatham singletrack and was able to run fast, even pausing the enjoy the gorgeous fall colors. And, shortly before the aid station, I caught Scott and a few others. All was well.

Leatham Hollow fall colors

David showing the goodies at Leatham...

I was passing rocks and trees like they were standing still

Paul and company were working the Leatham aid station, but they had my gear ready, even though I was 6 minutes early. My right heel had a hotspot, so I sat down to tighten my shoes, then was off. The next 3 miles were a mixture of running with Scott, running by cows, and being run off the road by one particular cow (don’t ask). We then reached Richards Hollow, one of my favorite sections of the race. The upper 3 miles are very runnable, with a meandering trail crossing a little creek in a small valley. Unfortunately, it was my first bad stretch. Dakota Jones passed me, and he and Scott simply ran away from me. They would put 15 minutes on me over 7.5 miles. I struggled to run even on the flat stretches. I tried to hold onto Erich Peitzsch after he passed me, but fell back. Finally, Tim Hoppin caught me near the top. We started talking as we descended into Cowley. Tim lives near my alma mater in Golden, CO, and we were both running our second 100, so we had plenty to talk about. The conversation and downhill really boosted my spirits, which would be a theme all day- weak and slow on the uphills (maybe due to the altitude and my lack of hill training the last month?), strong and fast on the downhills. Despite the disappointing stretch, I reached Cowley 6 minutes ahead of schedule. Joe had driven all the way to the aid station, and had me in and out long before Erich and Tim. I wouldn’t see them again. On the climb out, Cameron Peterson, a mountain biker, pulled up alongside me. He was very interested in ultra running, so we talked the whole way up the mountain, which really helped the time fly. I then ran down the always-enjoyable Ricks Canyon, anticipating picking up my first pacer and seeing my family.

My personal cheering section

The pacers saw a lot of this view...

But the biggest kick I ever got / was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock

Right Hand Fork aid was good to me. I changed shoes, including washing my feet, which eliminated the heel rubbing and severe toe pain I had been feeling. I must acknowledge that my awesome crew continued to set up my foot wash/shoe change station at every aid station, though I never used it again as my shoes were working wonderfully. Thanks, guys. Marci and my daughters had come to the aid station, and it was splendid to see them. I enjoyed telling my daughters that “Daddy is running in the mountains all day”. It was a real morale boost to see them, though somewhat offset when Cody told me I was in 7th place and 20 minutes back from the pack. Joe and I quickly set off, though I sent him back for my forgotten sunscreen. He would carry it for the next 90 minutes- what a guy.

The heat was becoming noticeable running up Willow Creek, so I just relaxed and listened to Joe recount his TOU adventure, confident that some of the front runners would burn up. I felt good, but ran a controlled pace. We passed Phil Lowry (who, along with RD Leland Barker, started an hour early) shortly before Temple Fork, which we reached 9 minutes ahead of schedule. My family and Cody were again waiting, so I lingered a few minutes. After eating some wonderful strawberries and grapes, kissing my family (but not Cody- don’t worry), and earning a baby star (my first of the race!), Joe and I started up Blind Hollow. Cody had placed a handful of ice in my hat, which felt wonderful in the warm afternoon. The climb went well at first, but I eventually slowed as my Achilles complained about the climbing and my legs reminded me that I was almost 50 miles into the day. I had Joe add up the climbing from my split sheet, and was reassured when he concluded that 2/3 of the climbing was done. We finally reached the summit, and relished the soft singletrack downhill to Tony Grove. We reached the aid station 7 minutes ahead of schedule. Perfect.

Leaving Temple Fork (yes, those specs are Jon and Joe)

Arriving at Tony Grove with Joe

While the other kids were Rocking Round the Clock / we were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock

Cody was eager to start his pacing here, almost knocking me over as he tried to get me out ahead of Scott, who was recovering in a chair. The next hour was very enjoyable, as we passed the colorful autumn aspens while chatting up a storm. I mentally noted that I was likely halfway done with the race, in both time and distance. We steadily ran down the smooth Bunchgrass singletrack at 8 min pace, with Cody feeding me Shot Blocks every few minutes. The day was wonderful.

Franklin Basin aid came quickly, and my crew was again prepared. After the typical bottle and gu flask swap, Dave asked me what else I needed. I replied, “Nothing,” to which he countered, “Then get out of here. Get going.” Gotta love it! I was dreading the climb up Steam Mill Hollow, and it indeed kicked my butt. By the top, I was barely moving and couldn’t keep my breath even while walking. Fortunately, every mountain eventually has a summit, and Cody and I again began running after a few minutes. I was not particularly spry, though, as we couldn’t gain on Leland, only a few minutes ahead. But we enjoyed the mountainous overlooks and the waning moments of daylight, stopping for a few pictures. We finally reached the festive, Christmas-light decorated Logan River aid at mile 70, still 9 minutes ahead of schedule (I could just picture my parents watching the results online, exclaiming “I can’t believe he’s within 9 minutes of his predicted time after 14 hours!”). Some runners feel the 70 mile mark is halfway effort-wise, so I knew there was still a long ways to go. But I felt good. My Achilles pain was tolerable, and my quads were still enjoying downhills. No complaints.

If ya gotta pee, pee with a view!

Photos courtesy of this guy...

Shock when Dave kicks me out of the aid station

Well Crocodile Rocking is something shocking / when your feet just can't keep still / I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will

While Cody disappeared into the well-stocked aid station, Dave and Joe wisely kept me outside, encouraging me that Dakota was just ahead, which I interpreted as less than 10 minutes. I left the aid station before Leland and immediately ran into Dakota, who had been 35 minutes ahead of me at Tony Grove. With a few encouraging words, I ran hard down the gravel road, excited to be in 4th place and wondering who else was ahead of me (I would later learn the closest runner was Jared Scott, 30 min ahead). I quickly crossed the Logan River, somehow keeping my feet dry, then slowed for Cody to catch up. We donned our lights for the first time and ran up Peterson Hollow, another favorite of mine. It ended far too quickly, and we turned up the faint, poorly-marked trail to Beaver Mountain. I was very glad Cody and I had run this portion, so knew where the trail went. The very rocky, slow downhill seemed to last forever, but I was still feeling good so didn’t mind too much. Cody got lost while running ahead to change his shoes, but caught me again just before the aid. Joe and Dave were again efficient at getting me on my way, even with a stop to put on winter clothes and eat some soup. They said the volunteers were complimenting how organized and fast they were, and I have to agree. Great crew.

Oh Lawdy mama those Friday nights / when Suzie wore her dresses tight / and the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight

Cody and I ran into three deer, the only large wildlife I saw all day, and then started the ever-increasing climb to Gibson Hollow. We ran a fair amount at first, gradually slowing as the grade increased. I really enjoyed the isolated feeling of running through the forest at night, with only the full moon and silent hills as company. Cody claimed to see a light behind us shortly before the aid station. I figured he was bluffing, but decided to play along and run faster. In fact, we cancelled the planned stop at Gibson aid. Cody refilled my bottle but I never slowed down (even though the Bear website showed I stopped for 6 minutes). 3 minutes later I looked back, eager to call Cody’s bluff… but sure enough, someone was just behind us. I was surprised, given that I my pace was still reasonable. Cody also informed me that Jared was still 30 minutes ahead, decreasing the odds of me catching him. We pushed hard, losing the mystery light on the climb towards Beaver Creek. We stopped at the top for a big star, and I was shocked that the runner never passed us. The downhill to the campground was less technical than I remembered, and soon the lights of the aid station appeared, 14 minutes ahead of schedule. My enjoyable 34 miles with Cody were over, as David would “carry me” to the finish. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how accurate that description would be.

But the years went by and the rock just died / Suzie went and left us for some foreign guy

Leaving the campground, I told Dave that he would have to be patient with me for the next few miles. The last push with Cody and the below-freezing temperature had really sapped my energy, and the following steady climb to High Top never allowed me to recover. Dave coaxed a few runs out of me, none longer than 60 seconds. After 30 minutes, I reached my lowest point of the race. I struggled to move at all, and could barely whisper one word at a time between my labored breaths. I was in a daze. More than just being physically tired, my brain was tired. I had been moving for 18 hours straight and, though only 13 miles remained, my only desire was to sleep. I began to fall asleep while on my feet, and would have lain down on the road if Dave had not kept pushing me. Following my pre-race directions perfectly, he was a brutal and unrelenting taskmaster—exactly what I needed. In my desperation for sleep, I schemed to tell him I needed to take a pit stop in the woods, where I would curl up for a few minutes before he would notice I was asleep. Alas, I found I didn’t have the energy to talk, so continued forward. The only highlight was seeing a Jeep stuck on a huge dirt berm, wondering how the owner would ever get it off. The summit of High Top provided no relief for me, as I could hardly run the flats or downhills. I had no particular pains, just an overall exhausted feeling. Dave continued his patient yet firm encouragement.

Long nights crying by the record machine / dreaming of my Chevy and my old blue jeans

I have no recollection of this, but around mile 90, Dave mentioned that after Ranger Dip aid, we only had a short climb and a nice downhill to the finish. Knowing full well the difficulty of the last leg, I managed to counter, “Yeah, but they’re the suckiest parts of the course.” Around here, a runner caught us, and I was very relieved to see it was Leland. I was content to let Leland go ahead, knowing he was an hour behind me in the standings. But Dave somehow prodded me to run behind Leland, somewhat successfully. The running and pushing thru the pain/fatigue somehow tripped something inside me, and we soon caught up to Leland. Dave had pushed me through the lowest of lows, and now my second (sixth?) wind had arrived. Running three abreast and chatting, we reached Ranger Dip, the last aid station. 8 miles remained, but my crash had left us with only 3 minutes to spare on 21 hour pace. After a quick stop of gummy bears and broth, we ventured onto the last section.

But they'll never kill the thrills we've got / burning up to the Crocodile Rock

The climb up Ranger Dip is the steepest of the course, climbing over 600 feet in half a mile. I again tagged behind Leland, giving him grief that he couldn’t find an easier way to Bear Lake. After 20 minutes, we reached the Gates of Paradise summit at 9063 feet, the high point of the course. Bear Lake loomed large ahead, a black ghost ringed by lights. Dave changed my headlamp batteries (the second best thing all race, only trailing the shoe change at mile 37), and we were soon charging down the mountain, leaving Leland in our wake. I discovered that my legs and lungs felt fresh—all the fatigue was gone. I felt as though I was just starting a run, rather than finishing an ultra. I had no time to ponder this miracle, though, as the twisty, rocky trail demanded all my attention. We soon reached the Dropoff, the murderous 2 mile descent that drops 2000 ft and only gets steeper and rockier the further you descend. I continued to feel strong, quick-stepping down with no pain. I was running so hard that I began sweating. I knew 4th place and sub-21 hours was mine, and loved it. Dave and I climbed the last short hill, wound down an ATV trail, and reached Fish Haven road. We turned off our headlamps as we ran, enjoying the last few moon-bathed miles of the race. I reveled in the feelings and was glad Dave was there to share it with me.

Learning fast as the weeks went past / we really thought the Crocodile Rock would last

Far too soon, we reached the highway. Jared Scott had slowed on the last leg and finished only 12 minutes before, so he and his crew cheered me in. Cody and Joe were also waiting, relieved to see me before the clock struck 3am. I remembered my last few miles of the Rocky Raccoon 100 in February, when my legs were so trashed that I walked the final 4 miles and couldn’t even jog the last 20 yards across the finish line. Now, we ran. We sprinted. We soared. With Cody, Dave, and Joe just behind me, we passed under the banner marking the end of this short, painful, wonderful adventure. 4th place, 20:49:38. After 2 long years, it was over. And I was satisfied. I was happy. I had run my best, and could do no better.

Laaaa la la la la laaa / La la la la laaaaa / La la la la laaaaaa

Leland came hobbling around the corner, pushing hard, and broke the 22 hour mark by 17 seconds, his second best time ever. Amazing. I can’t describe how much he inspired me. Tim Hoppin would finish 30 min behind me, followed 50 min later by Scott and Dakota.

The 2010 Bear was the fastest ever. Mike Foote broke Geoff Roes’ course record, an amazing feat. Evan Honeyfield and Jared Scott, who I never saw all race, gave him a run for the money. My time would have placed me 2nd in 2008 and only 30 seconds behind 2nd place in 2009, and is the 7th fastest time on this course. 17 runners broke 24 hours, compared to 13 in 2008-09 combined. 163 starters, 125 finishers (77% finish rate- very high!) The weather was beautiful, the course was superb, the competition was great, the volunteers were helpful, and my crew was perfect.

The top 4- Mike, me, Jared, and Evan

After the race, Cody drove us all down the canyon. I would return with my girls that evening for the awards, where I would get the opportunity to talk with many other runners- Mike, Evan, Jared, Scott, Bryce, and many others. All very friendly, great guys. We cheered loudly for the last finishers, still moving after a grueling 36+ hours on the course. While the winner and top runners arrive in the dead of night to no fanfare or applause, the final runners receive it in droves. Somehow, this seems fitting. All conquered their demons, all went the distance.

I want to give special thanks to my crew and pacers, David, Cody, and Joe. Thanks, guys, I couldn't have done it without you. You were well organized and followed my directions... except when you knew better. Thanks to you, I only sat down 3 times and averaged less than 2 min per aid station. And thanks to all the FRB-ers for your friendship and encouragement. And to my family, especially for staying up late hitting "refresh" on the race results. And a very special thanks to my wife and kids for all their support and patience with me and my silly running-addiction. I love you, Marci.

Several people have asked me what I will do next. After 2 years of focusing on the 2010 Bear, I honestly do not know. I will rest and heal, dabble in a few East Coast races, spend time with my family, and then do whatever I feel like. I’m in no hurry.

Splits

	Goal Time	Actual Time	Place
Logan Peak	8:14 AM	8:15 AM	6
Leatham Hollow	9:36 AM	9:30 AM	5
Richards Hollow	10:06 AM	9:56 AM	5
Cowley Canyon	11:36 AM	11:30 AM	6 (lost 15 full minutes on guys ahead of me on this leg)
Right Hand Fork	12:48 AM	12:43 PM	6 (16 min behind Jared)
Temple Fork	2:24 PM	2:15 PM	6 (24 min)
Tony’s Grove	4:09 PM	4:02 PM	6 (36 min)
Franklin Basin	5:59 PM	5:50 PM	5 (27 min)
Logan River	7:44 PM	7:35 PM	5 (32 min)
Beaver Mountain Lodge	9:22 PM	9:12 PM	4 (31 min)
Gibson Basin	10:47 PM	10:36 PM	4 (30 min)
Beaver Creek	11:41 PM	11:27 PM	4 (29 min)
Ranger’s Dip	1:23 AM	1:20 AM	4 33 min (lost 11 min on goal time)
Finish	3:00 AM	2:49 AM	4 (12)

Race Traditions

2010-09-16T18:30:00.001-07:00

With the Bear 100 approaching, I was pondering some of my silly race traditions. I wouldn't call these superstitions, really, since I don't worry or get upset if I forget one of them before a race. Simply traditions. Some of you may have noticed these traditions but not know the history, while some may never have noticed. I'm sitting alone in South Carolina and I'm bored, so it's story telling time. I have 3 big race traditions, in order of importance:

1) My green shorts- In high school, I worked for Green for $Green$ lawn care one summer. G for G happened to be owned by my cross country coach, who would buy some green shorts for his lawn crew each year. Most years, they were the knee-length, football-type mesh shorts. My year, though, he bought the shortest, bright green running shorts you have ever seen. We occasionally wore them on the job, along with wifebeater shirts, to the abject horror of the general public. At the end of the summer, I set them in a drawer and forgot about them for years.

Fast forward to college graduation. While cleaning my drawers (the furniture kind, not the other kind) in preparation for my move to Utah, I found the shorts and figured they would be useful. If nothing else, they definitely don't blend into the "black, 7-inch inseam shorts" crowd. Shortly thereafter, I donned them for a race. I must have done well, and wearing those ugly things became a tradition.

I must acknowledge that they are somewhat of a pain to wear. They are size 38 waist, so it wouldn't take much effort to depants me during a race. They have no pockets, a challenge for a packrat like me who always carries essentials such as toilet paper. They are terribly, **painfully** cold on certain extremities when worn alone during Strider's Winter Series races. I look like a Christmas ornament now that the SGRC singlets are red. And they embarrass my wife. (Ok, so that last one is definitely a plus.) And they only get used a few times a year, owing to my reluctance to wear them during regular workouts. But, during most of my races, you will proudly see me sporting these short, hideous greeny-greens with pride. And I love them. (Enough to name my blog after them and intentionally buy matching gaiters- what can I say?)

If we combine the greeny-green shorts with my dad's St. Patrick's Day shirt, would the Earth immediately implode?!? Pray we never find out...

2) My second race tradition can also be traced to high school. Growing up in Littleton, Colorado, my dad and I would often run the Bolder Boulder 10k together. As I was finishing my warm up just before my wave started at the 1995 race, I noticed a trash can on the side of the road that had a large pile of discarded warm-up clothes in it. [Note: in my 16 years of running, I have gone to great lengths and filled many drop bags to make sure I got back every article of running clothing I warmed up in before a race. The people of Boulder sure must be wealthy to casually toss aside nice gear in such a callous manner. Either that, or they thought the trash can looked cold.] Being a curious teenager, I sifted through the pile. While not wanting to carry shirts or tights for the whole race, I was excited to find a brown, Carhartt beanie. I dutifully tucked it in the back of my shorts and hauled it all 6.2 miles to the finish line.

Ever since then, this brown hat has been my pre and post-race beanie of choice, whether the temperature is below freezing or above 90 F. Like the shorts, it is worn only on race day. My friends and family have learned that, once the hat is donned pre-race, I'm in my racing mode. I don't talk, and I'm focused (I apologize if this is perceived as anger). Post-race, it's just silly and ugly. Best of all, my brown race-day beanie clashes with the shorts! And yes, if it's ever cold enough to justify during a race, this beanie will grace my noggin in all the mid-race photos.

Ah, the ugly brown beanie. Actually useful on this cold, wintery day.

3) My final race tradition has only emerged over the past 7 years or so and involves hair migration. Specifically, less hair on my head and more on my face. Once my college racing career was over, my race schedule slowed down (thanks in part to now having to pay race entry fees). It seemed my key races were usually 6 to 8 weeks apart, which nicely coincided with how often I needed for a haircut. As part of my pre-race preparations, I would usually get my hair buzzed the week before the race, thinking there might be some minuscule benefit from the reduced weight and air resistance. But mainly, I just needed a haircut.

Also about the same time as my college graduation, I finally had more than 3 whiskers growing on my face. Deciding that I should conserve all my energy leading up to the race, I would usually not shave for 3-4 days prior (Now I know what you're thinking, but don't worry-- the increase in facial wind resistance due to my 5 whiskers was very minimal compared to the decrease from my haircut). Nowadays, I'll usually not shave for a full week before the race, or, for the big races, might stretch it out to 2-4 weeks (aka El Vaquero Loco 2010). I'm not sure what it is- maybe having a bit of scruff makes me feel more manly and increases testosterone production, but my best races have all come unshaven. If I can ever grow a Paul Petersen beard, maybe I'll even qualify for the Olympic Trials!!!

El Vaquero Loco 2010 scruff

And so, dear readers, those are my race traditions. Silly and amusing, yes. But part of who I am as a runner. What are some of your traditions? I would love to hear. That way, next time we meet at the starting line, I will recognize and understand your traditions a little better, while you will surely still question the sanity of the scruffy, buzz-cut, brown-beanie, green-short wearing guy standing next to you. And rightly so.

Iron Mountain 30 race report

2010-09-05T07:03:00.001-07:00

About a month ago, I decided that my last long training run before the Bear would be easier if it were an official race, rather than trying to do a long run on unknown trails by myself. A quick search turned up the Iron Mountain 50-30-16 mile race in Damascus, Virginia, at the very south-western part of Virginia, about 3.5 hours from Greenville. Once I saw the $25 race entry fee, I knew I had found a winner, and chose the 30 mile distance (the 50 seemed a bit long just 3 weeks before the Bear).

The race starts in the quaint town of Damascus and generally runs along the spine of the Iron Mtns, part of the Appalachians. The AT runs along the same path for a bit. This is the 5th year of the 50 mile race, but only the second for the other two. The races tripled in size this year, from ~40 to 110 entrants. The course record for the 30 was 5:07, which seemed very doable. Marci flew into town this weekend and would be my crew at the 4 aid stations. I only carried 1 water bottle with 2 gu's inside, and she would switch me at each aid. I told her I thought I would finish between 4.5-5 hrs. We arrived well after dark and set up our tent at a nearby campground, sleeping only a fitful 4 or 5 hours.

The next morning had beautiful weather. I did a little warmup with 2 stars, then we were off. The first 4.5 miles are on a rail trail, a nice flat gravel path. A Kenyan (who moved to Damascus) and another guy started very fast, so I assumed they were both in the 16 mile. Lew McGrath, 3 time IM 50 runner and 1 time winner, soon caught me. He told me he was in the 30 miler, also, but was running a bit fast for me- I didn't want to do sub-7 miles that early in an ultra. By the first aid (4.25 miles, 35 min), Lew was ~30 seconds ahead, but I made half of that up with the quick bottle exchange from Marci. The next portion was a singletrack climb up to the IM ridge, which I found rather runnable despite the RD saying it was very steep- climbed from 2000 ft to 3600 ft in 3.5 miles. I passed Lew just up the singletrack and pulled away steadily from there. The next 3 miles on the ridge went fast, with lots of relatively short climbs and descents. The trail had portions that were very rocky and rooty, but nothing unrunnable. I saw the first 2 16 mile runners on their return trip, then I was at the aid station at mile 9.2 for another bottle exchange with Marci (1:21 total time).

Approaching Aid 1

Leaving Aid 1. Apparently I was running very fast despite the rocks, hence the blurry pic.

After aid 2, I was now the lead runner. The trail generally followed the ridge, alternating climbs and descents, never flat. 99% runnable, though still rocky and rooty. There were trees everywhere, so I never had any great vistas. I startled 2 deer from 10 feet, resulting in a yelp from me. I felt good yet reserved on this portion, preparing for the turnaround. I took one pit stop, then reached the turnaround at mile 15.4 in 2:17. Based on my watch, the first runner (a young blonde hair runner) was 3 min behind me, and Lew was 5 min back, followed by a steady stream of runners, with the usual encouragement. I pushed hard on the way back, hitting low-7's on several miles. I didn't want to give anyone a chance to catch me, reaching the last aid station (same location as aid 2) at mile 21.6 at 3:09, a 4 min negative split over 6.2 miles versus outbound. Marci was again waiting, though I noticed the aid station was much quieter than the first time, with only Marci and 3 aid workers. On the way out, there had been several dozen cheering crew members waiting for their runners, as well.

After the last aid, the trail continued backwards from the original route. I passed the singletrack I had climbed several hours before, while the inbound route stayed on the ridge for several more miles. I began picking off the slow 16 milers, who were generally enthusiastic. After a bit of a low patch at mile 22-23 (repeat to self: “It’s supposed to hurt, just keep running”) I reached the final peak at mile 26, where the trail began down paralleling a creek. The next 2 miles were… rocky. Very, very rocky. With lots of stream crossings. I’m not sure how I managed to never trip or get my feet wet, but pushed hard and finally reached the edge of town. My previous effort morphed into a 6 min pace over the flat terrain, back to the starting park. Marci was surprised to see me as I sprinted to the finish line for a finishing time of 4:03:55, 63 min off the old course record. The RD was shocked, first thinking I was a 16 miler, then thinking I turned around early. When I showed him my garmin with the 28.9 total miles, he heartily congratulated me, then invited me to do my Iron Man pushups and situps- whoever does the most situps and pushups within 5 min of finishing wins an award. I declined, instead helping myself to a hamburger and ice cream that was waiting. Yummy. I won a $35 gift certificate to a local outdoor shop, which I promptly used on maps and food.

Approaching the finish

Lew finished second, 40 min back from me. The blonde runner must have been doing the 50 miler. We saw several more finishers over the next hour, cheering them all in, before a quick shower followed by a long drive with my lovely wife through the backwoods of Virginia and a 4 hour drive on the lovely Blue Ridge Parkway before finally returning home at 10:30 pm.

I thought this was a great race- very runnable and enjoyable course, nice people, well marked, perfect weather- really, as good as it gets. I was happy with how I felt and ran, though both my ankles/Achilles are swollen and sore. Lots of ice for those. I averaged 8:53 on the way out and 7:55’s on the way back. I was shocked to see how much vertical there was- 7500 ft according to SportTracks (11,200 per Garmin TC, but we ignore that). More than Logan Peak!!! That surprised me. All in all, though, it was a great last long run for the Bear, including a win and huge course record. Now 1 more week of training and 2 weeks of taper, then the big day!

Why I run

2010-08-21T22:34:00.000-07:00

My month-long break from work is ending, during which I enjoyed being a full-time trail runner. As I look back, I would like to share why I love trail running. But I think pictures explain it far better than words. The following photos are all from my runs this summer.

View from mile 4 of my recent race, near Afton, WY

Descending into the clouds. Same location as above photo.

Perfect singletrack for running on a mountain- Stump Hollow trail near Logan

Running buddy Paul Petersen enjoying the view of High Creek Lake, near Logan

View from Crags Crest on the Grand Mesa, CO, as seen at mile 6 of a recent race. The trail runs along the ridge top.

Cache Valley 4000 feet below me, as seen from the Wellsville Mountains

El Vaquero Loco 50k

2010-08-14T20:40:00.000-07:00

Today was El Vaquero Loco, a wonderful race put on by Ty Draney in the Salt River Mountains near Afton, WY. The course is an out-and-back, starting at 7000 ft, climbing to above 10,000, then down, back up to 10,000, then all the way down to 7000 ft again before turning around and running the whole thing backwards. 9000 ft climbing, equal descending. A 25k race starts at the turnaround 150 min after the 50k starts.

I was rather apprehensive going into the race- my legs were in great shape, but my right foot starting tweaking last week and turned into what feels like a bad case of Plantar Fasciitis. I was worried enough that I didn't run other than Monday, with lots of massage and ice. I almost didn't go to the race, and honestly thought I had a 20% chance of finishing and a 40% chance of making it halfway to the turnaround. I was very pessimistic.

Cody brought his tent, so we crashed there together. The morning was chilly, but I went with just shirt and green shorts- wished I had some gloves at first, but my fingers were only numb for a few minutes. Luke Nelson was the only fast guy we knew at the race- he set the course record of 5:24 last year. I had worked out splits to match that time- I figured I would race hard until my foot forced me to quit. Luke took off right from the gun and was out of sight within a mile. The chase pack was Cody, Micah Rush, and me, with a fair gap behind us.

The trail climbs 2800 feet in 3.7 miles from the start, and I felt strong the whole way. My forced taper had really given my legs some recovery and energy. We reached the top and then descended into a gorgeous glacial valley. The tops of the mountains were visible, but there was dense fog 500 ft below us, which we soon entered. It was one of the prettiest things I have ever seen- amazing. Visibility in the fog was often only 30-50 m. Lots of fun. The trail descends, then climbs to a pair of gorgeous glacial cirque lakes, with a nasty, steep climb back up to 10,000 ft. The lakes were fog-shrouded, but the rocky cliffs just above them were clear, creating a very beautiful and peaceful scene. [I was serious enough about the race that, for the first time in 3 weeks, I didn't carry my camera on a run. But here are a few photos someone else took showing the fog and flowers].

We were on schedule through mile 8, which is followed by a generally-runnable 7 mile downhill (sometimes steep, sometimes overgrown, but overall very enjoyable). I had to stop for a 2 min pit stop/shoe tie, which allowed Micah and Cody to pull away. I soon caught and passed Cody, then ran into the 25k runners who had just started coming the other way. I navigated around all of them just to hit the turnaround and worked my way back up. But the runners were all great at letting me by. First 15 miles were in about 2:40, just 2 min behind goal pace.

Luke was 14 min ahead of me at the halfway. Micah was 2 min up, but I caught and passed him within a few miles. Cody was 1 min back. I felt very good for most of the 7 mile, 3000+ ft climb back up, running all the first 5 miles, then started feeling a bit lightheaded and tired so powerhiked the steeper stuff at the top. I enjoyed having all the 25k-ers to chase all the way up.

The fog had burned off by the time I reached the top, so I enjoyed the sweeping views in the mountains- Ty sure chose a fantastic, picturesque course. The middle section went very quickly as I concentrated on running hard. My legs and body felt great, though both (?) feet hurt. I reached the final climb, a real grunt, to learn Luke was 20 min up. I saw Cody about 5-6 min back with 4.5 miles to go. He beat me by 5:56 at Logan Peak, so I needed to beat him by more than that today to win our challenge. I walked all of the last climb, figuring it was too steep to make it worth running. Then I hit the downhill and turned on the burners. I was going to make Cody earn his race series win.

Thanks to the taper, my legs felt good on a downhill for the first time in a few months. I pushed hard. The 3.7 miles seemed to last forever, but I enjoyed it. My legs felt great, and I was limited only by the technicality of the trail. I caught a few more 25k-ers on the section, including the lead woman. I finally reached the last .25 mile on the road and sprinted hard. I got a bit confused at the end and followed a car the wrong way, which added a few seconds. Finished in 2nd place with a time of 5:33:32, then anxiously waited to see where Cody was. He appeared 5 minutes later, finishing about 5.5 minutes behind me. We raced 58 miles, and he beat me by 5 seconds total between the races combined! Wow.

Luke won in 5:12, a new course record. Micah finished in 4th, about 30 min behind me. My time is the 3rd fastest ever on this course, and fastest non-Luke time. We all enjoyed a few dips in a nearby lake to help the legs, and partook of burgers and fruit. Great finisher's spread. And I was excited to learn that Ty (2008 Bear 100 winner) and Evan Honeyfield will both be racing the Bear- lots of good competition! Also talked to Leland, the Bear RD who placed 5th today, about the Bear, and chatted with FRB-er Bryce for a while.

I was pleased how good my body felt, and how I was able to run through my foot pain. I hope I didn't cause any severe damage that will limit my Bear training. I felt strong climbing and descending, and never felt too tired. I could have kept running today for many more miles at the same pace. I definitely didn't push on some of the uphills as hard as I could have out of caution for my feet (walking is much easier on PF/arches than running uphill), which ended up being the difference that allowed Cody to win our series. But he won fair-and-square, and deserved it. Congrats.

I'm hoping my feet are well enough to let me do a few more trail runs in Logan next week. Then I fly to South Carolina next Sunday, with 5 final weeks of low-altitude training before flying back to Utah for the Bear. I'm already looking forward to it!

Grand Mesa 50+ race report

2010-07-28T21:23:00.001-07:00

[I apologize in advance for the length of this post. I don't blame you if you just look at the pictures...]
Post-race quotes about Grand Mesa 100/50:
"This is way harder than Leadville 100"- Ryan Burch, the 100 mile winner
"This should be marked as primitive and not for the faint of heart"- Anonymous runner

My grandparents live in Cedaredge, Colorado, so I have visited the Grand Mesa several times and was excited to participate in this first-time race. The Grand Mesa is the largest mesa in the world, measuring 500 sq miles, almost all above 10,000 ft, and with 300 mosquito-breeding lakes. The race was advertised as a "54 mile" 50-miler, with 5000 ft climbing, and a predicted winning time of 7.5 hrs for the 50 and 17 hrs for the 100. These times would prove to be overly optimistic, and the amount of climbing was greatly underestimated. I was hoping for 8-8.5 hrs.

Friday was my last day working at ATK, and I drove straight from work to Cedaredge in my non-air conditioned car. Hot and sweaty. Talked to 100-mile runner Ryan Burch at the pre-race briefing, met his pacer, Duncan Callahan (2009 Leadville 100 winner), and also met my only expected competition in the 50 mile race, Zeke Tiernan. Zeke was a two-time NCAA All-American runner at Univ of Colorado with a 29 min 10k PR. And he is awesome at trails, placing 3rd in the Leadville 100 last year. Nice guy, and I knew he would be good competition. Game on.

Me and my dad on the mesa Friday evening

Elevation profile. Starting elevation is 10,400 ft.

My parents were generous enough to crew me (even though they could only crew me at Aids 1, 3, and 5), and they drove their camper up for us to sleep in. The weather for race day was predicted to have a low of 40 deg and a high of 65, but actual temperature would be about 15-20 deg higher. The 60 starters (between the 100 mile, 50 mile, and 37.5 mile distances) gathered for the 5:30 am start with a bit of nervous chatter.

The first 11.5 mile loop was fabulous, running along pine forest and then climbing to a narrow, volcanic crag with steep dropoffs on both sides. Ryan and Zeke took off immediately, and I hung back just a bit with Marty Wacker, a local runner. It was nice to have Marty to pace me a bit at the start and not let me go out too fast. I felt great and we enjoyed a beautiful sunrise, even startling a porcupine on the side of the trail. After about 80 min, I decided to pass Marty, worried that Ryan and Zeke had built a big lead. I had one quick pit stop (my only star of the race) near the end of the loop, then zoomed through the aid station. My parents had my bottles and gu's ready for a 10 second hand off and tolerated my focused, semi-rude attitude. 1:46 for the loop.

The trail along the top of the crag. Beautiful.

Approaching Aid 1

I was very happy to pass Zeke as he took a pit stop just after the aid station, and to spot Ryan just a minute ahead. We eventually ended up in a group as the trail turned from road to 4WD to rough ATV trail as we descended to Aid 2. Shortly after Aid 2, we had 2 ankle-deep stream crossings, then found several trail junctions with no flagging, which would end up being a common occurance all day. After several minutes of scouting and map-consulting, we choose the most likely path. It ended up being the correct one, but we didn't know until we found a flag after 10 minutes. (To the RD's credit, an aid station worker later went and added dozens of flags along this section, making the path obvious). Aid station split was 42 min (5 mi with lots of downhill).

Typical ATV trail from Aid 1 to Aid 3

Ryan, Zeke and I were still running as a pack when we reached Aid 3, which was handy due to the several fence crossings that required multiple hands and a fair amount of tugging to open and close some of the "gates". My stomach was rebelling a bit at this point from too much sugar, so I opted for only water, which was fabulously cool and much appreciated as the temperature was rapidly rising. My parents had everything ready for me at the aid station for another quick turnaround. 1:02 split for 6.25 mi with net climbing.

Aid 3

At this point, the 50 and 100 milers do a huge, 15 mile loop around a peninsula on the mesa. The trail was generally flat, but it was an often faint and always "lumpy" (as Ryan appropriately labeled it) or rocky singletrack. My lower leg stabilization muscles got a very good workout. I followed Zeke and Ryan for about 5 miles till Zeke fell back a bit. We reached where the aid was supposed to be... but nothing was there. I ran out of water and was very thirsty when we finally saw some horses and riders in the distance. Sure enough, the aid station was just arriving. They were not prepared for us, with all the water still in containers on the horses. Ryan filled his bottle from some water bottles the riders had, then took off, while I held a horse. I was a bit annoyed that this allowed Zeke to make up the 2 minutes we had put on him. After 3-4 more minutes of holding horses and untying saddle bags, Zeke and I filled out bottles and were off. The riders were very nice, though, and I was just happy to get lots of water. I was carrying 2 bottles while Zeke and Ryan only had 1, which I think gave me a big advantage as I stayed well-hydrated.

Zeke hung with me for a bit, but then took a soft tumble (he was ok) and started falling back again. I focused on catching Ryan, which I had almost done when we discovered we were lost again. After a bit of map-consulting and cross-country running, we found the trail and returned to Aid 3 (now morphed into Aid 4). The 100 milers seperated here, but I wasn't able to wish Ryan good luck like I wanted due to all the aid station hubbub. He would go on to win the 100 in 23:26, beating the 2nd place guy by 2.5 hrs. On a side note, Ryan ran 5:53 for the first 38 miles with Zeke and I (9:17 min/mile), then 17:33 for the next 64 miles (16:27 min/mile). Only 5 of the 30 runners in the 100 would finish. My split for the 15 mile loop was 2:20. My parents had another quick turnaround for me, and I was out of the aid station before Zeke came in. I did see him briefly, and he wasn't looking too great, while I felt good.

Legs 4 and 5 circled this whole "peninsula" of the mesa. Great views, rather flat, very long.

The trail was faint and very lumpy for much of the loop. Slower running than expected.

I enjoyed hugging the edge of the mesa, but my legs tired of the monotony of running on flat trails.

Section 6 dropped off the edge of the mesa on a very steep descent, skirted along the side for quite a while, then climbed back to Aid 2. I pushed hard at first to put some distance on Zeke. The dropoff was very steep and overgrown, but I enjoyed it. I got lost at the bottom for a while, but eventually found my way back onto the course (note: I estimate I spent 15-20 minutes lost during the entire race). I will admit that I did not enjoy the rest of this section- it was very overgrown and most of the trail was little more than a cow trail, with many other intersecting cow trails. It was constantly rolling, very rough, and impossible to get a steady, fast rhythm. And it was hot- I was worried how fast my water was disappearing. I kept expecting the trail to turn up the mountain, but we just kept going along the side for about 30 minutes more than I thought we should have. The only good things was passing a few 37 mile runners and sharing some encouraging words. I also told them to tell Zeke that I was 30 minutes ahead of him and running strong, which gave all of us a good laugh.

Finally, the trail turned uphill... and it was a doozy. The next mile was honestly the steepest climb of my life, steeper than even Black Mountain on Wahsatch Steeplechase. It was a slow, slow walk, accompanied by only a ton of mosquitos. I felt terrible and ran out of water, though I kept dipping my head in streams to cool down. This was the only place I could really feel the high elevation. Fortunately, the RD's had some hardcore ATV-ers set up an aid station mid-climb (I really don't know how they managed to drive an ATV on that steep/rocky of a trail, especially with gear attached). It was quite literally a life saver- I gratefully filled both bottles. I know ALL the runners really appreciated this aid station- it relieved a lot of suffering.

Unfortunately, the climb continued for quite a ways past the aid- I think it gained 1600 ft in 1 mile. Slow and hot, with lots of gasping for breath. And the walking gave the mosquitos plenty of time to feast on me. I finally reached the summit to find my dad waiting for me, ready to pace me to the finish. He sprayed water on my head and was very encouraging in this words, telling me that everyone looked terrible coming up the hill (there were ~6 37-milers ahead of me). After a few minutes of walking on the flats, we began running a bit. After a few miles, we reached Aid 6 (previously Aid 2), and I scarfed down some melon and coke while the awesome volunteers filled my bottles. Time for leg 6 was 2:35 for 10.6 miles, almost an hour slower than expected. I was very glad to be done with this section.

The warning...

Can you see the trail coming down? Very steep and overgrown. Much steeper than the picture makes it look.

After Aid 6, the race runs back up the course to Aid 1 (and the finish), all on ATV/4WD road, and mostly uphill. I was greatly energized by the aid station and the walking, so started running everything except the steepest uphill. My dad kept up for a few miles, but soon I was running 7:30/min miles on technical uphills and he fell behind a bit. I passed a few more runners, catching everyone except the first place 37 miler (a woman). I knew exactly how far the finish was, so kept pushing harder and harder, though eventually I was forced to walk some of the longer uphills. I looked back on a few stretches but saw neither Zeke nor my dad within 600 yards of me. I finally rounded the final turn and ran across the finish line- First place! Final split of 53 min, giving me a total time of 9:21:57 (10:24 min/mile). My Uncle Boyd and Aunt Connie and 4 cousins had been visiting my grandparents and came to cheer me across the finish, along with my mom and my Aunt Sue. My dad appeared 3-4 minutes later, and Zeke finished 11 min after me. 3rd place was 90 min back.

I couldn't catch my breath for 30 min after the finish, but staggered around trying not to faint. There was no food at the finish line, so I just congratulated Zeke on a good race and promptly went to a lake to soak my legs. After grabbing my 1st place award, my family all drove into Cedaredge for food with my grandparents. I had very minimal soreness, and no soreness on Sunday. Unfortunately, I got absolutely fried by the sun, making laying down painful and resulting in blisters all over my back and shoulders- ouch. Sleeping was painful on the sunburn. After a second night with my parents, I drove straight to Salt Lake City airport Sunday morning to go house hunting with Marci in South Carolina- it was a busy weekend!

Worst sunburn of my life (?), 4 days later. Blistered all over. I did discover that going down a water slide on your back will painfully remove all these blisters, though.

Overall, I enjoyed this race. It was in a gorgeous location. I really enjoyed running with Ryan and Zeke, and was very glad I didn't have to run the whole thing by myself. I feel very lucky to have beaten Zeke- I was surprised to have won that battle. The race had the typical first-time snafus (inadequate flagging, aid stations not ready, no food at the finish line)- I know most of the 100 milers dropped in large part due to course marking problems and being worried about night running. I found the aid station workers to be very friendly and helpful and the course to be well designed, though it was far more challenging than I expected and had more vertical than advertised. But, I thought it was fun overall and would likely run the 100 miler if I were around next year. Good times.

Just after finishing. I can barely breath or stand up.

With my pacer. Notice the matching green shirt/short combination.

Things I learned: Too much warm Perpeteum = bad. Very cool drinking water on a hot day = good. Parents as crew = good and enthusiastic.

Final stats

30 runners registered for the 100 miler, 5 finished (all men)

21 registered for the 50 miler, 16 finished

10 registered for the 37 miler, 12 finished (due to some 50 and 100-milers dropping down. 37 miler won by a woman, beating 1st man by 2 hours!)

Thoughts on leaving Utah

2010-07-22T12:22:00.000-07:00

Due to work, my family will be leaving Utah after 8 years and moving to Greenville, SC. While excited for the move, I am realizing more and more how much I will miss Utah, specifically running in the Bear River mountains around Logan. I have been very fortunate to live so close to some gorgeous and rather large mountains. I can leave my house at 4500 ft and take an almost unlimited number of trails up to almost 10,000 ft. In the past year, in particular, I have done more and more of my runs exclusively on trails, aided in part by my running partner, Cody. As any trail runner will tell you, having someone to run with allows you to go further and faster, and opens up many more route possibilities. It's safe to say I have now run more miles with Cody than with any other person in my running career.

I'm sure there will be some good trails in Greenville, but they certainly won't be as close, as long, or with the sweeping vistas I have enjoyed here. Logan is truly a trail runner's paradise, and I have been fortunate to enjoy it!

Finding the Balance

2010-05-01T08:25:00.000-07:00

With due respect to the common blog themes of Adam Wende and Luke Nelson, I am once again re-discovering the challenge of balancing the many demands and desires of life. This happens each year as my mileage ramps up into the 80-100 miles per week range. There are certain demands that cannot be avoided, such as work (55 hours/week for me, including commute). Sleep is also a necessity, though it often shrinks to 5-6 hours a night for long stretches. And there are other necessities of life, such as shopping for food (which I hardly ever do thanks to a wonderful wife), eating, church, housework, etc. Generally, I am left with 3 things which I enjoy that I have to balance- family, running, and any other leisure activities. The third one is not too painful to cut- I don't watch much tv (since NFL football is not in season), and only watch 3-4 shows most weeks. My computer time remains relatively constant (to Marci's chagrin).

Running 90 miles per week takes 15-20 hours, once I include the preparation time, driving to the mountains, showering after, etc. Not a minor commitment. Trail running adds more time than road running, of course, due to longer drives and slower pace. But it is infinitely more enjoyable for me. The remainder of the time goes to family. Some days I can spend many hours with them, but there is the occasional day where I hardly see my daughters at all.

On occasion, I read certain blogs with a bit of envy- for example, Tony Krupicka has run 2209 miles in 330 hours already this year. While he is probably the highest mileage runner around, I wouldn't mind having the 40 hours per week to run in the mountains like he does. But it just isn't a possibility with my life. And I imagine I am in much better company than someone like Tony when it comes to having to balancing life with running- there are many more working dads who try to sneak in running than there our people running 200 miles a week at will.

And you know what? I wouldn't change it for a second. I love running in the mountains- the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, birds and squirrels chirping, amazing vistas, the feel of mud underfoot, the freedom and isolation, and the occasional sound of Cody crashing through the underbrush. But that pales in comparison to one hug from my 21 month old daughter, Aspen, or when my 3 1/2 year old, McKinley, asks me to color a book with her, or when my wife thanks me for washing the dishes. Those are infinitely better. And I love all of them. Isn't life great! Finding the balance is what makes us better and helps us realize what is really the most important. And that's what life is all about.

Which would you rather have?

This?

Or This?

How about both!

Buffalo Run 25k

2010-03-27T17:33:00.000-07:00

What a great race, with lots of great, great people. Jim Skaggs does a nice job and makes a delicious buffalo stew at the end. Full race report write up on my FRB page. I'm not sure which I enjoyed more- the race, the stew, or all the people to meet and talk to at the finish. Great all around. Here are some photos:

Cody coming into the finish (yes, I know my lens is blurry- I just cleaned it)

The view towards the finish from 1 mile out

Nice view from the trail of the mountains and the Great Salt Lake

Token buffalo pictures with the Wasatch Mts in the background. Big boys.

Now I just have to keep getting healthier and get my butt in shape for a summer of great races, starting with Poky 50 in May. I sure have my work cut out for me.

Winter in Dry Canyon, plus RR photos

2010-03-07T13:49:00.000-08:00

I ran up the beautiful snow-packed Dry Canyon 3 times in 7 days. Very enjoyable and peaceful, plus some fun adventure falling into deep snow when your leg sinks in. Cody joined me for the last of the 3 runs. You can barely see the city of Logan at the top of the top picture (looking down the canyon towards the valley), and the other two are headed uphill towards Mt. Logan.

Here's a couple photos from Rocky Raccoon 100, as well, since I didn't post many.

The best crew in the world, Cody and Paul

Davy and myself at the start

Me, during the day sometime

Proof of bandits on the course!

Night running, probably around mile 80. Tired, but still moving. Of course, Cody will tell you that I never look happy in any race photos! I guess I just don't spend much precious energy smiling.

Cody and Paul took lots of great photos, but I never found one at the finish or shortly thereafter. I'll have to make sure we take a few of those at the Bear this year. I'm sure I smiled at least once at that point. Probably.

My first post, my first 100

2010-02-12T18:43:00.000-08:00

I have long desired to have a public running blog for my occasional musings and race reports, as compared to my fastrunningblog which serves as my daily training log. Since I just finished my first 100 last weekend, I figured now was a good time to actually make a site.

I really enjoyed the Rocky Raccoon 100 last weekend and was happy to finish sub-20 hrs, especially given that I have been fighting some injuries and hardly ran over the last 6 weeks. I'm planning to continue running a smattering of trail races this spring and summer, culminating in my hometown Bear 100 this September. Onwards and upwards!

For the record, the name of this post comes from my distinctive (and somewhat ugly) green racing shorts. Believe it or not, I got them in high school when I worked in for a lawn mowing company, Green for Green, with my cross country coach. For some reason, he bought some very short green shorts for us to wear on occasion. I hid them away, but them found them a few years later and made them my official racing shorts. They have brought me good luck in the past and hope they will continue to do so.