Last week, I ordered my first GPS watch. Yes, I have been ultrarunning since 2007 without a GPS. I use only a basic Timex. In fact, I've only changed the battery in it once. I also shower with it every night, sleep in it, wear it to work, use it in the dark, cook with it, drive to work with it, and even lift weights with it. Probably the best $35 I have ever spent.
However, I got to thinking last week that it might be interesting to play around with graphs and statistics and whatnot. I've never really tallied my mileage, how much time I spend on the trail, or any other statistic. I don't know how much elevation I climb/descend on a run, and I have no idea what my heart rate is or how many calories I burn. I've never really cared and I typically just listen to my body. So, I think I'll give it a shot. When my new Garmin 310XT gets in I plan to track mileage, elevation, and time on a daily basis for one year. All of this stemmed from the book "Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell that I read a few months ago. In the book, he talks about the 10,000-Hour Rule...
Basically, Gladwell argues that you become an expert at something once you practice that particular skill/trade for 10,000 hours. The caveat is that you need to be given the opportunity to practice at an early age, because without an early opportunity you don't stand a chance at becoming an expert. He detailed cases related to men playing hockey, girls playing soccer, and even the Beatles. In the end, I took a bite of the cheese. It makes sense in the ultrarunning world as well. Think about it...what age group do the majority of the top ultrarunners fall into? My guess would be 30-39 (Ian Sharman, Nick Clark, Max King), with outliers in their 20's and 40's. This is probably because ultrarunners between 30-39 have practiced for 10,000 hours. Skateboarding or playing the violin, as examples, can be practiced at very early ages. This is why the U.S. has 20-year old snowboarders winning gold medals at the Winter Olympics, and 16-year olds playing in the MLS. However, the typical ultrarunner doesn't get into distances beyond 26.2 until their 20's or, maybe, in their teens. Thus, the countdown to 10,000 hours doesn't start until later in life, and the majority of ultrarunners don't "officially" start working towards their 10,000 hours until their early- to mid-20's. Obviously, there are outliers...
Those outliers in their 20's were given particular opportunities to practice and succeed at an early age. Kilian Jornet grew up in the mountains and his parents gave him the opportunity to cross-country ski on a daily basis. He lived high in the mountains, with slopes and trails in his backyard, and had supportive parents who practically pushed him out the back door and into the mountains every day. Therefore, he was given the opportunity to practice long distance endurance sports at an early age, and he had the opportunity to reach 10,000 hours of practice by his early 20's. Another runner, Scott Jurek, created his own opportunities in his early teens to practice endurance running. In BFE Minnesota, he began running up and down his road, to the store and back, away from his problems (as described in his book "Eat and Run")...he was also able to reach his 10,000 hours at an early age. Since then, runners like Kilian Jornet and Tim Olson and Tony Krupicka (all in their 20's, although Olson may have just turned 30) have followed in Jurek's footsteps. They started practicing ultrarunning at an early age and were given the opportunity to practice. They grew up in specific areas of the country/world that allowed them to practice their skill efficiently. Thus, they all reached 10,000 hours of ultrarunning practice in their 20's.
This was the main reason I purchased a GPS watch - to track particular statistics to work towards my 10,000 hours. I'm off to a much later start than the runners previously mentioned - I didn't really start practicing until 2011 at age 25. When looking at the big picture, however, that doesn't mean squat. Outliers in their 40's (Mike Morton, Karl Meltzer, Dave Mackey, Jorge Pacheco) are winning ultras left and right. Now, I am certainly not saying that I will be winning ultras when I'm 40. Quite the contrary...my career doesn't exactly give me the freedom to practice like I want to. In fact, I may never reach my 10,000 hours, but at least I can keep track with my new watch!
Also, I plan to steal a page out of Tony Krupicka's book...I noticed that he keeps similar statistics of his training runs and posts them on his blog every week. Unless there exists some weird copyright infringement laws that prevent me from taking someone's cool blog idea and using it myself, I plan to also post mine every week. Although, now that "Dumb Starbucks Coffee" opened in Los Angeles, I don't think I'll have any run-ins with law enforcement by copying someone's idea to track how many minutes I spent hanging out in the woods yesterday. I will also have a reason to run those extra few miles, those extra few hills, that final loop...because you all will be looking at my fancy graphs, filled with colors and lines and numbers.
That's all for now. Standby for bar graphs...
Monday, February 10, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
Recount #8: JFK 50 Mile
Way late on this one...my bad
The JFK 50 Mile marked my entrance into the ultrarunning world in 2007. I had no idea what I was doing 6 years ago. I ran the race in basketball shorts because they had pockets for which I could store M&M's. My red, white and blue headband kept my head somewhat warm, along with my fancy cotton t-shirt. I didn't carry water because I thought I'd be good. I didn't leave my Dad with a map or any information about the race.
(God bless my father, by the way...he found every aid station. He probably used his handy Rand McNally trucker's edition atlas to get around. I would imagine he made a lot of new friends as well, since he had to ask where the aid stations were located. I'm sure he got in a nap or two, but he was there every time. Once he found an aid station he would walk backwards on the course to find me. Once I caught up to him, he would run with me to the aid station...in works boots, blue jeans, a Carhartt jacket and a Nascar hat. He never even bitched about how slow I was, how long he was waiting, or how far he had walked just to find my sorry ass. I love you, Pops.)
Back to the crappy story I was telling...In 2007, I sprinted the first 3 miles up the hill to the AT. I managed to stay on my feet along the AT, but I was pretty gassed once I hit the C&O Canal. I was unfamiliar with the route, so I didn't realize I ran past two major battlefields (Harper's Ferry then Antietam). I didn't know I needed food or salt, so I obviously didn't have any of either. I didn't have a jacket. My basketball shoes held up until my knees started aching. Luckily, I ran into a guy named Dave Snipes who "saved my race." After knowing Dave for 6 years now, I've discovered that he "saved someone's race" every race...But that time, to his credit, he actually did save my race. He picked me up on the AT around mile 9 and stuck with me until mile 35-ish when I decided to wait in line at a port-a-jon in the middle of the woods. At some point he handed me a little pill and told me it would make me feel better. I was in a bad place, so I asked no questions as I swallowed it with some of the delicious tea he carried. What kind of idiot carries a bottle of tea all day? Whatever...down the hatch. After I took my turn in the jon, life got better. My quads felt better and I wasn't struggling as much. Naturally, I took off sprinting. After 3 miles I waited in line at another jon, cursing Snipes and his dumb pills aloud to a girl named Summer. She was also struggling and waiting in line for the jon. I would run the last 20 miles with her.
In any event (this is a classic phrase my grandfather uses routinely, had to fit it in), Summer and I did the walk/run shuffle and finished around 10 hours.
In 2013, I was a little more experienced. I knew that those pills were called Endurolytes, and that they are key to a successful race. Also, I knew that M&M's provide the wrong type of sugar needed to get through 50 miles of running. Basketball shorts were replaced with a comfortable pair of Adidas running shorts (still, they had a pocket). Basketball shoes don't even exist in my house anymore, so I wore my Hoka One One Mafate 3's. No headband - they serve no purpose. Instead, I wore my trademark "I Like it Dirty" snap-back I picked up at Spencer's as a gag gift to myself. Of course, I had to sport my VHTRC, baby blue, long-sleeved technical shirt to represent! And...my photographer had maps, course information, driving directions, extra water bottles (since I'm an "idiot" and carry those now), and a $4 tote from Wally World full of Endurolytes and gels and such. In 2013, I was ready to set a PR at the 50 mile distance...
We left from home in Fredericksburg around 0430, knowing traffic wouldn't be too bad that early in the day. However, I-95 can never be trusted - we still tapped the breaks once or twice as we neared the nation's capital. We arrived early, though, with plenty of time to check in and get to the start line. I knew check in would be crowded, so I had my photographer park by the exit of the Boonsboro High School parking lot. Most people walk from the school to the start line downtown, but I wanted Kari to be able to stay warm as long as possible, so we drove down after I had my race packet in hand. Front row parking was available 30 minutes before the race, so we took the closest spot and watched everyone else walk through the field and flood the streets.
Staying warm in the car
Downtown Boonsboro
Just waiting...
Apparently, there was a national anthem and a count down, but we never heard either. All we heard was "Go!" followed by cow bells and hoots and hollers. After a kiss and a few selfies my photographer dismissed me for the day:
The race had already started...
It was also during my time with Ian that we saw a full-frontal of a female runner squatting to do a #1 on the side of the trail. Her and I were chatting a bit as we climbed the road to the AT earlier in the race, but I won't disclose her name. It's not like she had a choice anyway - November in Maryland means leafless trees with no concealment to do your business. I didn't even mean to look, but some things just catch your eye, ya know?
My journey down the tow path started out just as I had expected - boring, uneventful, yet fast! I was knocking off 8-minute miles and working towards a strong finishing time. Just after the bridge into Harper's Ferry I ran into Mike Campbell, a seasoned vet in the ultrarunning community and a fellow VHTRC-er. Mike - you need to sport your baby blue next year. After we exchanged pleasantries I pressed on. He would finish strong in 9:36, not bad for 63 years old.
Kari and I planned out the day in the morning, so I knew I wouldn't see her until the Antietam Aqueduct aid station at mile 27. Here is her map, drawn to scale, of course:
Her plan was to tour the two battlefields to take sweet pictures; Harper's Ferry in the morning, Antietam in the afternoon. Here are some pictures she took while I was running:
Dang selfie
Near Bloody Lane
Bloody Lane
Burnside Bridge
The plan went accordingly and she met me at mile 27 with goodies and a kiss, as always.
I thought I wouldn't see her again until mile 38, but she surprised me at the next aid station with another kiss. During the short 4-5 mile stretch between those two aid stations I hit a low patch and started dragging my feet, almost literally. A kiss is expected, but it's always the pat on the butt that increases my morale and gets me moving again.
During the next stretch of boring nothingness along the canal, I chatted with anyone willing to converse with a man wearing a hat that says "I Like it Dirty." Chatting with other runners always takes your mind of running. For a mile or so, when my knees and ankles were screaming, I would walk/run and simply try to keep moving. Eventually, I came upon a gentlemen running his 11th JFK 50 miler. He knees were hurting equally as bad as mine. I asked him why he didn't stop at 10 finishes, and he explained that Mike Spinnler (the race director) makes 10-time finishers attend the race one more time in order to pick up their 10-time finisher award. Really? I mean, that's a good marketing technique to ensure people keep coming back for more canal path torture, but this gentlemen came down from Canada! Maybe he didn't want to run it again...does that mean he wouldn't get his 10-time finisher award? Are FedEx shipping prices that outrageous these days, that he couldn't ship it to the guy? Interesting.
At the end of the tow path I took a right and headed up a hill into a residential area. The first house I came upon featured a dedicated JFK fan. He was chilling in his driveway and had erected a table full of Bud Light. He offered me a pounder and it was so hard to refuse. If it would have been a 12-ouncer I might have been willing to carry the lighter load...
Despite the fact that my Mafate 3's are tough, rugged trail shoes, they held their own during the final miles on the roads. Whether it be trail, asphalt, sand, gravel, grass...it's still like running on little pillows.
I saw my photographer one final time at mile 46:
By then it was roughly 3:00 in the afternoon and the wind was howling. I grabbed my $5 Nike Golf jacket I found on the clearance rack at TJ Maxx a few years ago. Yep, I'm a Maxxinista.
The trifecta of struggles
It did the trick and blocked those cold gusts coming across the corn fields and cow pastures towards the end of the race. Kari drove past me just after the aid station and snapped a quick photo:
Mile 46.5-ish
The last few miles were tough, as they generally are in a 50-mile race. Although my core was staying warm, the cold wind was ripping through my gloves which made holding my water bottle a challenge. The sun was bright and squinting made my head pound. I should have taken that dang Bud Light. Around that time a shorter female runner, about 5-feet tall, blazed right past me at a pace equivalent of Mach 7. At mile 46 you're only racing yourself, but that really ticked me off. I tried to catch her but she was way too fast. I laughed at myself for getting so worked up. A few minutes later I came into the last aid station and the upbeat volunteers allowed me to forgot it ever happened. Those kids couldn't have been any happier. I think they were a local high school cross country team. The music was loud so dancing ensued. I think the song was "Thrift Shop" by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. Man...music had never sounded so good. Headphones pretty much constitute jail time at JFK, and singing to yourself only goes so far. These dudes had it going on. Dangit, I wanted to stay and hang out but I knew I only had 2 miles left. Also, I couldn't see anyone behind me, and I wanted to keep it that way. I pressed on.
To my surprise, the final 2 miles went by in a blink. I came across a guy who started @ 5:00 am and I decided to run alongside him for a minute. Again, I won't use names, but this gentleman spilled the beans to me about some personal issues going on in his life. He explained how he recently caught his wife cheating on him and that he was in the middle of filing for divorce. Only ultrarunners experience such emotional highs and lows. This is something marathoners get introduced to if they survive "hitting the wall," but never really understand because they haven't quite left their comfort zone and stretched the limits of their bodies. In any event (there it is again...), he slowed down and I pressed on to a finishing time of 8:38 - a new 50-mile PR by 33 minutes, and 1:30 faster than 6 years ago. Not really lightning speed by any standards, but it feels good to know I've improved. By the time I'm 70 I should be breaking 4 hours on this course...
My photographer and I hung around a little bit and talked to some folks, but we were both getting cold and restless, so we headed to the CRV to get dry and warm. I sat on my camp stool in the trunk and changed my under garments as I watched fellow runners struggle in the cold wind outdoors. Soon enough, I was wrapped in my sweatpants and sweatshirt. We headed home while it was still light out.
After JFK, I am grateful for trail running, plain and simple. JFK is a fun race with great volunteers, but the canal path can bite the big one. It's the ideal course for PR-setting times, but it is very boring. I spent Dec and Jan running in Shenandoah with Alex P. to help him get ready for HURT - which he finished two weeks ago! Congrats, Alex! Also, I am grateful to be a member of the VHTRC, the country's greatest trail running club (who cares what Trail Runner Mag says). Lastly, I am grateful for my photographer/wife/crew/biggest fan. She continues to tag along with me for these things. She even cleans my dirty underwear afterwards.
End of recount...
Photo credits: Kari Cillo, www.kcillophotography.com, facebook.com/kcillophotography
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Christmas 2013
My favorite gift this year for Christmas:
If you have never tasted Middleswarth BBQ potato chips, then you have not lived life.
If you have never tasted Middleswarth BBQ potato chips, then you have not lived life.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Recount #7: Rosaryville Veterans Day 50k
My photographer and I left the house around 0600 for the short one-hour drive to Rosaryville State Park in Maryland. The 0800 start time was nice - we didn't wake up until 0530, and there was no traffic! We headed north on route 95 as the sun came up. It was freezing cold, about 25 degrees, so my photographer had blankets and hand warmers at the ready.
We made it to the park around 0700 and got one of the last parking spots next to the start/finish. I was particularly happy about that since the bathrooms were also nearby. The coffee I drank en route to the park was doing its job, so I headed to the closest port-a-jon. On my way back to the car I heard some rustling coming from the port-a-jon area, but I didn't think too much of it.
Back at the car my photographer was struggling to stay warm. Meanwhile, I was stripping half naked in the parking lot preparing for the race.
Glide on nipples, check
Glide under armpits, check.
Glide under my junk, check.
Socks, check.
Shoes, check.
Gloves, heck yes!
Water bottle full, check.
Gels, check.
Salt, check.
Ready to run, double check.
We hung around the car for another 20 minutes or so to stay warm. Ultrarunners are generally entertaining to watch anyway, and this day was no different. Around 0615 a man jogged by with his fuel belt around his waist, full with everything he desired for the day, running tights, hat, gloves, and a jacket. Heading the other direction was a woman, tall and slim, equipped with her hydration system and calf compressions, going for a warm-up lap around the state of Maryland I presumed. It suddenly occurred to us that there were many marathoners and road runners at the race. The abundance of "26.2" bumper stickers finally gave it all away. There would be lots of fast runners on the course, and probably lots of trash on the trails. Both would prove to be true later in the race.
After getting our fill of people-watching we departed the warmth of the CRV and began walking towards the start line for the race brief @ 0645. On our way we stopped at a car full of fellow VHTRC runners! It was refreshing to know I wasn't alone. After some words of encouragement, and a funny story about a dog eating too much cheese, we continued to the start line. Just then, as we walked past the port-a-jons, I noticed something was way off...they were missing. I knew I wasn't crazy - I just did my business in there not 20 minutes ago! What the heck? Normally, the race director ensures there are multiple jons around before a race, for obvious reasons. How did they disappear in such a short amount of time? Where was I going to pee? I started looking around the parking lot and noticed they were in the back of a truck. I put two and two together, and uncovered the truth. The rustling I heard earlier was the sound of men, picking up the jons by hand, and placing them in the back of an F-150. Now my business was in the back of a truck... I laughed at the thought of it and we kept walking towards the start. We stopped for a quick photo:
The race director did not have a megaphone so he had to yell over the loud roar coming from the runners. It was sad to see that only a few of us had the respect to be quiet and listen to the RD give his pre-race speech. At least those rude folks had the sense to shut up during the national anthem. After all, it was Veterans Day.
My goal for the race was simply to finish - something I failed to accomplish in the previous three races. Off the gun, two gentlemen sprinted out to the front. I recognized one as Alex Hetherington, a local runner and retired Marine, not to mention a very fast marathoner. He ended up winning the race. I kept him in sight for the first three-quarters of a mile on the road section, but lost him quickly once we hit the trails. The course consisted of three 9.8-mile loops, with the short road section at the beginning and end. Like a lollipop - up the stick, three loops around the sucker, then back down the stick.
The first loop I took pretty slow, enjoying the scenery and talking to other runners. A fella named Brad ran the first 4 miles with me, then I decided the pace was too slow and ran ahead and stopped to pee behind a tree. He held his pace almost the entire race, but I ended up passing him around mile 26. He wore a black wife-beater and a small black hat, and was otherwise not effected by the cold.
After Brad left me alone and afraid in the woods, I somehow got between two groups of runners and ran the rest of the loop by my lonesome. I could hear laughter and carrying-on both in front and behind me, but never was able to catch up or slow down enough to join either group. I saw a pair of sweet Brooks running gloves on the ground and stopped to pick them up. They were red and had my name written all over them! Being the ultrarunner I am, I passed them off to their rightful owner at the next aid station.
The main aid station was at the trailhead, which is where my photographer and crew would meet me. After the first loop I was still good on water, but needed a gel replacement. Kari tossed me a gel and gave me a quick kiss, and I was off for loop two.
There were a few park rangers hanging out in the woods in their lawn chairs. I'm not sure if they were policing runners for trash or simply making sure nobody got lost, but they were great! Each of the three times I ran past them they all shouted motivational slurs. I love motivational slurs. One even cracked on me when he said "There's still three young ladies ahead of you, son" on the last loop. Because I'm a man, this should have hurt my feelings. But because I'm an ultrarunner, I'm used to chasing the faster female runners. In fact, most times I don't mind following them, if you know what I'm saying...
Eventually, I did catch the third-place female. She was only about five feet tall, but man could her legs move quick! I think her name was Elaine. She was great to talk to, motivating and giggly, and she also wore her Hokas for the race. We ran together at her pace for a few miles, and even linked up with another gentlemen for a mile or so. At the next aid station I picked up the pace and asked them to come with me, but they were feeling the hills more than I was, so I pressed on.
I really enjoy running with music, especially 50k races since they are relatively short. Unfortunately, this race did not allow music because the entire 9.8-mile loop was single-track trail. There were a few times when I ran alone for 3-4 miles without encountering anyone. Initially, it was peaceful, but it got boring on the third loop as the trails became familiar and I memorized turns and roots and which trees I needed to duck under. Some Michael Franti or Mac Miller or "Back That A$$ Up" would surely have kick-started my legs for one final push to the finish.
Strangely, I kept the same pace the entire race. I completed each loop in roughly 1:25:00 and was able to maintain just under 9-minute miles. Since my goal was simply to finish, I wasn't focusing on my pace at all. It was really nice to enjoy the woods without constantly worrying about things such as pace, mileage, time, etc. I couldn't have cared less about my time or what loop I was on - I felt great and my legs felt like they did last winter. I love cold weather! The jello-like feeling I suffered from all summer was finally gone. My lungs were strong again. My calves were strong again. My hip flexors were strong again. I was a new runner.
Coming off the trail and heading down the final stretch of road to the finish...about 7-minute mile pace...huge smile on my face...waving to people I didn't know...singing some random song...I was back!!
It turns out I actually ran a new PR at the 50k distance, 4 hours and 32 minutes. I find it comical that I have random spurts of success at times when I don't give a hoot. Yet another reason to run without a watch, GPS, Runkeeper app, or any other electronics.
Leading up to this race I did quite a bit of running with only a watch, caring not about mileage or pace or elevation or the like. I had some great training runs in Prince William Forest Park, the quarry trails in Fredericksburg, and the trails on base in Quantico. But this race really helped me remember how to run free and separate myself from the madness and chaos. No music, no GPS, no nothing. Just a watch to remind myself to drink water occasionally. Today, I am thankful that I am healthy and capable of hitting the trails whenever I want, and for however long I want. I have a beautiful and caring wife who supports my strange habits and is willing to freeze her butt off in the woods for a few hours while I run around like a kid. I am thankful that I have the energy to focus on my job for hours and hours each week. But most importantly, and even more so on Veterans Day, I am thankful for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice to protect our freedom...or else I might be speaking German...
End of recount...
We made it to the park around 0700 and got one of the last parking spots next to the start/finish. I was particularly happy about that since the bathrooms were also nearby. The coffee I drank en route to the park was doing its job, so I headed to the closest port-a-jon. On my way back to the car I heard some rustling coming from the port-a-jon area, but I didn't think too much of it.
Back at the car my photographer was struggling to stay warm. Meanwhile, I was stripping half naked in the parking lot preparing for the race.
Glide on nipples, check
Glide under armpits, check.
Glide under my junk, check.
Socks, check.
Shoes, check.
Gloves, heck yes!
Water bottle full, check.
Gels, check.
Salt, check.
Ready to run, double check.
We hung around the car for another 20 minutes or so to stay warm. Ultrarunners are generally entertaining to watch anyway, and this day was no different. Around 0615 a man jogged by with his fuel belt around his waist, full with everything he desired for the day, running tights, hat, gloves, and a jacket. Heading the other direction was a woman, tall and slim, equipped with her hydration system and calf compressions, going for a warm-up lap around the state of Maryland I presumed. It suddenly occurred to us that there were many marathoners and road runners at the race. The abundance of "26.2" bumper stickers finally gave it all away. There would be lots of fast runners on the course, and probably lots of trash on the trails. Both would prove to be true later in the race.
After getting our fill of people-watching we departed the warmth of the CRV and began walking towards the start line for the race brief @ 0645. On our way we stopped at a car full of fellow VHTRC runners! It was refreshing to know I wasn't alone. After some words of encouragement, and a funny story about a dog eating too much cheese, we continued to the start line. Just then, as we walked past the port-a-jons, I noticed something was way off...they were missing. I knew I wasn't crazy - I just did my business in there not 20 minutes ago! What the heck? Normally, the race director ensures there are multiple jons around before a race, for obvious reasons. How did they disappear in such a short amount of time? Where was I going to pee? I started looking around the parking lot and noticed they were in the back of a truck. I put two and two together, and uncovered the truth. The rustling I heard earlier was the sound of men, picking up the jons by hand, and placing them in the back of an F-150. Now my business was in the back of a truck... I laughed at the thought of it and we kept walking towards the start. We stopped for a quick photo:
Selfie (word of the year for 2013, by the way)
The race started just after "and the home of the brave."
Looking lost, as usual...
My goal for the race was simply to finish - something I failed to accomplish in the previous three races. Off the gun, two gentlemen sprinted out to the front. I recognized one as Alex Hetherington, a local runner and retired Marine, not to mention a very fast marathoner. He ended up winning the race. I kept him in sight for the first three-quarters of a mile on the road section, but lost him quickly once we hit the trails. The course consisted of three 9.8-mile loops, with the short road section at the beginning and end. Like a lollipop - up the stick, three loops around the sucker, then back down the stick.
The first loop I took pretty slow, enjoying the scenery and talking to other runners. A fella named Brad ran the first 4 miles with me, then I decided the pace was too slow and ran ahead and stopped to pee behind a tree. He held his pace almost the entire race, but I ended up passing him around mile 26. He wore a black wife-beater and a small black hat, and was otherwise not effected by the cold.
After Brad left me alone and afraid in the woods, I somehow got between two groups of runners and ran the rest of the loop by my lonesome. I could hear laughter and carrying-on both in front and behind me, but never was able to catch up or slow down enough to join either group. I saw a pair of sweet Brooks running gloves on the ground and stopped to pick them up. They were red and had my name written all over them! Being the ultrarunner I am, I passed them off to their rightful owner at the next aid station.
The main aid station was at the trailhead, which is where my photographer and crew would meet me. After the first loop I was still good on water, but needed a gel replacement. Kari tossed me a gel and gave me a quick kiss, and I was off for loop two.
There were a few park rangers hanging out in the woods in their lawn chairs. I'm not sure if they were policing runners for trash or simply making sure nobody got lost, but they were great! Each of the three times I ran past them they all shouted motivational slurs. I love motivational slurs. One even cracked on me when he said "There's still three young ladies ahead of you, son" on the last loop. Because I'm a man, this should have hurt my feelings. But because I'm an ultrarunner, I'm used to chasing the faster female runners. In fact, most times I don't mind following them, if you know what I'm saying...
Eventually, I did catch the third-place female. She was only about five feet tall, but man could her legs move quick! I think her name was Elaine. She was great to talk to, motivating and giggly, and she also wore her Hokas for the race. We ran together at her pace for a few miles, and even linked up with another gentlemen for a mile or so. At the next aid station I picked up the pace and asked them to come with me, but they were feeling the hills more than I was, so I pressed on.
I really enjoy running with music, especially 50k races since they are relatively short. Unfortunately, this race did not allow music because the entire 9.8-mile loop was single-track trail. There were a few times when I ran alone for 3-4 miles without encountering anyone. Initially, it was peaceful, but it got boring on the third loop as the trails became familiar and I memorized turns and roots and which trees I needed to duck under. Some Michael Franti or Mac Miller or "Back That A$$ Up" would surely have kick-started my legs for one final push to the finish.
Strangely, I kept the same pace the entire race. I completed each loop in roughly 1:25:00 and was able to maintain just under 9-minute miles. Since my goal was simply to finish, I wasn't focusing on my pace at all. It was really nice to enjoy the woods without constantly worrying about things such as pace, mileage, time, etc. I couldn't have cared less about my time or what loop I was on - I felt great and my legs felt like they did last winter. I love cold weather! The jello-like feeling I suffered from all summer was finally gone. My lungs were strong again. My calves were strong again. My hip flexors were strong again. I was a new runner.
Coming off the trail and heading down the final stretch of road to the finish...about 7-minute mile pace...huge smile on my face...waving to people I didn't know...singing some random song...I was back!!
Finishing strong and feeling good
Staring at the catering truck as it loaded the tables with rice and beans
It turns out I actually ran a new PR at the 50k distance, 4 hours and 32 minutes. I find it comical that I have random spurts of success at times when I don't give a hoot. Yet another reason to run without a watch, GPS, Runkeeper app, or any other electronics.
Leading up to this race I did quite a bit of running with only a watch, caring not about mileage or pace or elevation or the like. I had some great training runs in Prince William Forest Park, the quarry trails in Fredericksburg, and the trails on base in Quantico. But this race really helped me remember how to run free and separate myself from the madness and chaos. No music, no GPS, no nothing. Just a watch to remind myself to drink water occasionally. Today, I am thankful that I am healthy and capable of hitting the trails whenever I want, and for however long I want. I have a beautiful and caring wife who supports my strange habits and is willing to freeze her butt off in the woods for a few hours while I run around like a kid. I am thankful that I have the energy to focus on my job for hours and hours each week. But most importantly, and even more so on Veterans Day, I am thankful for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice to protect our freedom...or else I might be speaking German...
End of recount...
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Back in Business
Since Labor Day I haven't ran farther than 10 miles at a clip. I finally got in 14 miles yesterday in Shenandoah with Alex P. We stopped at our secret lookout and snapped a few quick ones.
Alex P.
View from out secret lookout
It was refreshing to run with someone, which I haven't done in awhile. Both of us were coming off DNFs and not-so-thrilling summer race schedules, so we were both equally frustrated with ourselves. The run should have started around 1300, but thanks to my idiotic behaviors we didn't start until 1400. Here is how it went down.
I rolled into the parking lot at the Buck Hollow trailhead at 1215. I filled my pack with goodies and got everything ready for the run. I was a little early so I hung out and listened to music in my car while I waited for Alex. He rolled in at 1235 and was ready by 1245. We locked up the cars and slung on our packs. Ready to go! But wait, we forgot to apply bug spray.
Alex said, "Wait, I need some bug spray, I don't want to get ticked."
"I have some in the car, let me get it quick."
We walked to my car, I put the key in the driver's side door (yeah, I am still old school, no keyless entry here...), and turned it twice to the right to unlock all of the doors. I walked to the trunk, opened it up, laid the key next to my cooler, and got out the bug spray. Ok, bug spray applied. Put the bug spray back, shut the trunk, walk to the driver's side door, lock all the doors, shut the driver's side door. NOW we are ready! But wait, I should probably grab some baby wipes...you never know... Walk to driver's side door, dig out my key from my pack...no key. Check my hand bottle, no key. Check the other pocket on my pack, no key. Check the roof of my car, no key. Check the ground, no key. You see where this is going, right?
Luckily, I cracked all the windows before I locked it up. So...what else should we do other than start shoving sticks through the windows?!? Obviously, that didn't work. We spent 15 minutes gathering live sticks because they bend better than dead ones, and we needed to bend one around the window and down the inside towards the unlock button. We didn't even get close.
After 15 minutes of fumbling around with sticks we got desperate and asked some other folks if they had a hanger. No luck. Ok, back to the sticks. Still not working. Alex had some bungees in his car, which served no purpose at all, but we got them out anyway. We were pulling out all the tricks.
Meanwhile, as we goofed around with bungees and lumber, a park ranger pulled up and watched all of this. After laughing at us for who knows how long he drove up to us. Thank goodness, help has arrived! Cell service is non-existent in those parts of Virginia, so I didn't even have a way to call for help. After explaining to the ranger that we WERE breaking into a car, but that the car was MINE, he busted out his lockout kit and we went to work.
To make a long story short...the rain guards around my front windows were pulled off, my car had scratches around both front doors and on both panels inside the car, there was a metal rod inside my passenger side door which banged around the entire way home...but the car was finally unlocked! Sure enough, the key was right where I left it beside the cooler. When I got home later at night I took the panel off my passenger door and removed the metal rod - I now have a souvenir!
The run was awesome! Alex took me on a lot of trails that he has been running for years, but were all new to me. We saw quite a few hikers. Some knew where they were going, others required some directions. Two folks were emplacing some bear cameras so we stopped and asked a bunch of questions. Three younger hikers were looking for Marye's Rock, a really awesome overlook of Shenandoah and Massanutten. After they walked DOWNHILL for 2 miles looking for an OVERLOOK they should have recognized where they went wrong...
Although we saw no bears or wildlife it was still an awesome run. I always enjoy running new routes more than routes I am familiar with. The weather was nearly perfect - no sun, no rain, about 55 degrees at higher elevations, a slight breeze on the ridges...couldn't ask for a better day to run. We covered 14.1 miles and 4,700 feet of elevation gain in about 3:15. Not blazing speed by any definition, but our goal was to forget the miserable summer we had and to remember the real reasons we run...for the beauty of the forest, the adventure, the camaraderie, the opportunity to talk about weird stuff that nobody else understands, to look for bear cameras, to discuss the best way to pack a hydration system, determine whether PB&J is better than dried fruit during a 100 miler, and to freakin' get away from the madness! Alex has been an awesome friend and an awesome running companion over the last few months. So has Dan! Didn't mean to leave you out brother.
My goal for the next 5 weeks is to run as often as I can without a watch and to just enjoy the changing colors of the leaves. My next race is 09 Nov and the goal there is to get a dang finish! I will approach my training for the next few weeks on a day-to-day basis - if I feel like running then I will, if I don't feel like running then I won't. I intend to avoid junk miles and the "training" mentality. The cold weather feels so good and I am very ready for snow.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Halloween Costume
I got Lasik eye surgery yesterday and I have to sleep wearing some kick-ass goggles for a few nights. Check out this comparison:
For Halloween this year Kari and I are going as Gordon and Kate Veach from Dodgeball. Keep your doors locked...
For Halloween this year Kari and I are going as Gordon and Kate Veach from Dodgeball. Keep your doors locked...
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
It Can Only Get Better
Three straight tallies in the DNF column...OSS/CIA Night 50 Mile, Burning River 100, and the Iron Mountain 50 Mile Trail Run...not exactly a good summer.
Not sure what happened, but it seems that my body has been reacting very negatively to the summer humidity in VA. I thought I was suffering from dysentery for a few days after the OSS/CIA run, but as the summer progressed I started to consider the humidity as a factor in all this.
A few years ago I was diagnosed with heat exhaustion with a temperature of 103 degrees after a 9-mile hike through the VA woods. Doesn't seem too hard, I know. In my defense, it was July, I had about 60 lbs. of weight on my back, and I was wearing utilities and a flak jacket. After the hike my buddies threw me in the shower and my legs cramped up real bad. In the end I got the "silver bullet" twice that day, and got to lay in a tub of ice for a bit. Since then I have never run well, or done anything physical well, during times of high humidity. Mowing the lawn, hiking, cycling, walking to the mailbox...I can feel the humidity pushing down on my shoulders and sucking the air out of my chest.
During Iron Mountain last weekend I vomited three time between mile 22-29. I have never vomited during a run/race before, so it was an unfamiliar challenge to cope with.
Sequence of events:
- After leaving the Hurricane Gap AS at mile 22 the course winded down a mountain for 7 miles. Immediately after exiting the AS I hurled on the side of the service road. "That's a first," I thought. "Strange, but whatever, I gotta keep going, I'm in the middle of nowhere." So, I kept running.
- Less than a mile later my stomach tightened and caused a wicked side-stitch. Something I haven't felt since my 5k days. I kept running, hoping it would subside. But it kept getting worse. It hurt so bad I was forced to walk...down a hill...only 22 miles into the race...
- About a half-mile later the road ended and I hit the single track trail which circled the mountain. I crossed a small creek and vomited again just after it. I went back to the creek and splashed water on my head and back. It felt amazing because, by that point, it was almost noon and the humidity had been steadily rising all morning. I was also 30 minutes behind my time from last year, but that didn't much matter anymore.
- After another mile of single track I was funneled onto a service road on the opposite side of the mountain. Another two miles passed as I practiced my sweet walk/run method down the hill until I hurled again at an insignificant location alongside the road. PB&J sandwich, oranges, a watermelon slice, and more water...I was getting scared. If I couldn't hold down food or water then it was only a matter of time before my body would shut down.
- Sure enough, as I strolled into the AS at mile 29, I was dehydrated and completely unprepared for the 1,200 foot climb from miles 29-32. I sat down for a few minutes and sipped on some water. The volunteers were great and kept my spirits up. I was ready to give it another shot when I stood up and felt everything in my stomach shift. I walked off the road and removed the remaining water and a banana from my system one final time. When I came back to the AS I borrowed a phone (surprisingly, there was cell service at that AS), called Kari (who had just finished the 16-miler!), and asked her to come find me with the car.
- I was done.
- Again.
- Again again.
I have considered all things: electrolyte intake, salt intake, water intake, when to intake, whether to carry a pack or roll with my hand bottle, whether to wear a shirt, number of gels, when to consume gels, whether to wear a hat, whether to wear a shirt, running technique, pace going uphill, pace going downhill, when to walk, when to run, what to eat, what to drink, what not to eat, what not to drink, how much to drink, how long to hang around in an AS, when to stop and take a leak...
I don't have a routine on race morning or the day before a race. I tend to eat whatever I want, which is generally something different each race morning but never something new that I haven't previously eaten before a run/race. That eliminates the food factor. During the first few hours of running, and only during training runs, I have experimented with eating gels only, gels and fruit, gels and fruit and PB&J, nothing at all (bad choice), chocolate chip cookies (totally a good choice), veggie burritos, gummy bears, Ensure, water only, bananas, Pinole... All of these combinations worked in some degree and didn't cause me to vomit. MMT100 was rather humid this year (May) and I found myself squatting behind bushes throughout the last 40 miles. OSS/CIA - same story. Iron Mountain - vomiting. I am interested to see how my body reacts as the temperature cools off.
Last February I ran nearly 400 miles and raced three of the four weekends in the month. I felt great. Never got sore enough to even take a day off. Last week I did a short 6-miler to prepare for Iron Mountain and felt it the whole day, the next day, and the day after that. Maybe I'm just a pansy...
Taking a sabbatical from racing until November. Besides the losing streak I am completely consumed with school work, house work, and real work. Looking forward to Tristin & Molly's wedding in September and Chris & Barb's wedding in October. Will be volunteering at the VHTRC Women's Half Marathon and possibly the Mountain Masochist 50 Miler in Nov. Will be back on the trails this week, kicking up dust and pushing my body to its limits all over again.
Not sure what happened, but it seems that my body has been reacting very negatively to the summer humidity in VA. I thought I was suffering from dysentery for a few days after the OSS/CIA run, but as the summer progressed I started to consider the humidity as a factor in all this.
A few years ago I was diagnosed with heat exhaustion with a temperature of 103 degrees after a 9-mile hike through the VA woods. Doesn't seem too hard, I know. In my defense, it was July, I had about 60 lbs. of weight on my back, and I was wearing utilities and a flak jacket. After the hike my buddies threw me in the shower and my legs cramped up real bad. In the end I got the "silver bullet" twice that day, and got to lay in a tub of ice for a bit. Since then I have never run well, or done anything physical well, during times of high humidity. Mowing the lawn, hiking, cycling, walking to the mailbox...I can feel the humidity pushing down on my shoulders and sucking the air out of my chest.
During Iron Mountain last weekend I vomited three time between mile 22-29. I have never vomited during a run/race before, so it was an unfamiliar challenge to cope with.
Sequence of events:
- After leaving the Hurricane Gap AS at mile 22 the course winded down a mountain for 7 miles. Immediately after exiting the AS I hurled on the side of the service road. "That's a first," I thought. "Strange, but whatever, I gotta keep going, I'm in the middle of nowhere." So, I kept running.
- Less than a mile later my stomach tightened and caused a wicked side-stitch. Something I haven't felt since my 5k days. I kept running, hoping it would subside. But it kept getting worse. It hurt so bad I was forced to walk...down a hill...only 22 miles into the race...
- About a half-mile later the road ended and I hit the single track trail which circled the mountain. I crossed a small creek and vomited again just after it. I went back to the creek and splashed water on my head and back. It felt amazing because, by that point, it was almost noon and the humidity had been steadily rising all morning. I was also 30 minutes behind my time from last year, but that didn't much matter anymore.
- After another mile of single track I was funneled onto a service road on the opposite side of the mountain. Another two miles passed as I practiced my sweet walk/run method down the hill until I hurled again at an insignificant location alongside the road. PB&J sandwich, oranges, a watermelon slice, and more water...I was getting scared. If I couldn't hold down food or water then it was only a matter of time before my body would shut down.
- Sure enough, as I strolled into the AS at mile 29, I was dehydrated and completely unprepared for the 1,200 foot climb from miles 29-32. I sat down for a few minutes and sipped on some water. The volunteers were great and kept my spirits up. I was ready to give it another shot when I stood up and felt everything in my stomach shift. I walked off the road and removed the remaining water and a banana from my system one final time. When I came back to the AS I borrowed a phone (surprisingly, there was cell service at that AS), called Kari (who had just finished the 16-miler!), and asked her to come find me with the car.
- I was done.
- Again.
- Again again.
I have considered all things: electrolyte intake, salt intake, water intake, when to intake, whether to carry a pack or roll with my hand bottle, whether to wear a shirt, number of gels, when to consume gels, whether to wear a hat, whether to wear a shirt, running technique, pace going uphill, pace going downhill, when to walk, when to run, what to eat, what to drink, what not to eat, what not to drink, how much to drink, how long to hang around in an AS, when to stop and take a leak...
I don't have a routine on race morning or the day before a race. I tend to eat whatever I want, which is generally something different each race morning but never something new that I haven't previously eaten before a run/race. That eliminates the food factor. During the first few hours of running, and only during training runs, I have experimented with eating gels only, gels and fruit, gels and fruit and PB&J, nothing at all (bad choice), chocolate chip cookies (totally a good choice), veggie burritos, gummy bears, Ensure, water only, bananas, Pinole... All of these combinations worked in some degree and didn't cause me to vomit. MMT100 was rather humid this year (May) and I found myself squatting behind bushes throughout the last 40 miles. OSS/CIA - same story. Iron Mountain - vomiting. I am interested to see how my body reacts as the temperature cools off.
Last February I ran nearly 400 miles and raced three of the four weekends in the month. I felt great. Never got sore enough to even take a day off. Last week I did a short 6-miler to prepare for Iron Mountain and felt it the whole day, the next day, and the day after that. Maybe I'm just a pansy...
Taking a sabbatical from racing until November. Besides the losing streak I am completely consumed with school work, house work, and real work. Looking forward to Tristin & Molly's wedding in September and Chris & Barb's wedding in October. Will be volunteering at the VHTRC Women's Half Marathon and possibly the Mountain Masochist 50 Miler in Nov. Will be back on the trails this week, kicking up dust and pushing my body to its limits all over again.
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