I woke up this morning at 6am to meet Jim for a run. Rain was sprinkling, but nothing major. Around 7 it started pooring down rain. I mean, it was a serious downpour with thunder and lightning. Jim and I were planning to meet for an easy 10, so I called him to make sure he was still committed, given the weather. He was.
As I was driving into Austin I was thinking to myself that this weather was kind of bad. I was thinking, I like the rain, but is this really worth it? Is this another stupid decision to run in the lightning storm? Will we be the only two fools out there running this morning? And then I pulled up to the the Town Lake Trail (we weren't running there, just meeting there). Sure enough, I saw at least a hundred runners go by. 50 more were getting water under the Mopac bridge. This is Austin, TX, where people love the outdoors and love fitness. This is a city where I don't stick out as the crazy guy that runs all of the time. Gotta love Austin.
PS. Jim and I went on to have a great road run up the Scenic and Mt. Bonnell route. The rain felt good, and conversation was great as usual. It was the first time we had spent on a long road course in months and we confirmed that we prefer the trails. Still, it was a good run. There's no better way to start a weekend.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Training and having fun
After my post about taking a day or two off, Matt asked me what my plans were for training the next two weeks until the 12-hour run. I started to respond and then stopped. I realized that I don't know the answer. I could get a good run in this weekend, then start tapering. Or I could start tapering now. Or I could ignore tapering altogether, because this is just another fun training run.
So I choose the last option, I'm just going out there to have fun, and this run is not my main goal. The problem is, I don't know what my main goal is. I don't even know if I have a main goal! First, it was Pike's Peak. But not long into that training, I secretly started planning on the Bandera 100K, so then Bandera became my big goal for the year, but as always, I've also been considering some other things. I don't know where this is all going, but it does make me realize that it's not in my nature as a runner to pick one single goal and focus solely on it. I did this with Sunmart last year, and it worked, but some of the joy I get out of running was lost with this attitude. It might result in a better peak performance and faster times, but what's the point if it's not fun?
I asked a friend of mine once how he trains for 100 milers, as I was challenged so much by a mere 50 miles. His response... he hasn't "trained" in years. He just goes out there to run for fun, and sometimes he gets to have fun for a really long time, like, say, 24+ hours straight for a 100 miler. I guess this is my attitude also, although sometimes I get caught up in the big challenges and times and all that, at the end of the day, I just want to go out there, relax and have fun. Suffer a little, maybe, but always look back knowing that it was a good time.
So, whether it is a 12 hour run in a few weeks, a 100K in a few months, or any other distance at any other time, I don't think I'll change my "training" too much. I figure, if I keep making it more fun, I'll do it more. If I do it more, it'll get easier and more fun. And whether this leads me to 100 milers, or I change directions and decide to start running 10K's, I'll have no regrets.
So I choose the last option, I'm just going out there to have fun, and this run is not my main goal. The problem is, I don't know what my main goal is. I don't even know if I have a main goal! First, it was Pike's Peak. But not long into that training, I secretly started planning on the Bandera 100K, so then Bandera became my big goal for the year, but as always, I've also been considering some other things. I don't know where this is all going, but it does make me realize that it's not in my nature as a runner to pick one single goal and focus solely on it. I did this with Sunmart last year, and it worked, but some of the joy I get out of running was lost with this attitude. It might result in a better peak performance and faster times, but what's the point if it's not fun?
I asked a friend of mine once how he trains for 100 milers, as I was challenged so much by a mere 50 miles. His response... he hasn't "trained" in years. He just goes out there to run for fun, and sometimes he gets to have fun for a really long time, like, say, 24+ hours straight for a 100 miler. I guess this is my attitude also, although sometimes I get caught up in the big challenges and times and all that, at the end of the day, I just want to go out there, relax and have fun. Suffer a little, maybe, but always look back knowing that it was a good time.
So, whether it is a 12 hour run in a few weeks, a 100K in a few months, or any other distance at any other time, I don't think I'll change my "training" too much. I figure, if I keep making it more fun, I'll do it more. If I do it more, it'll get easier and more fun. And whether this leads me to 100 milers, or I change directions and decide to start running 10K's, I'll have no regrets.
Put a fork in me
OK, I'm totally spent. I had a tough week of running last week, then finished it off with a 12% grade treadmill run on Friday, 9 miles of trail course marking on Saturday night, and a few hours later a 30K race on those same trails. I decided I was OK on Monday, so I rode my bike for about an hour and did some hard downhill runs at the Ladera Norte hills on Tuesday.
Tonight I'm supposed to run with my Pike's Peak Rogue group at the greenbelt, but Ive decided to bail. I think this is the first intelligent decision I've made in awhile. My quads are shredded, my calves are sore, and my knee keeps cracking when I walk.
I have the 12-hour run coming up in a few weeks, and I want to make sure I'm ready. The trail is pretty hilly and rough. If all goes well, I'd like to break the 50M barrier which I've done twice but never gone over. So... in light of this, I'm taking a day off, maybe two, and I'll be better than ever by the weekend.
Tonight I'm supposed to run with my Pike's Peak Rogue group at the greenbelt, but Ive decided to bail. I think this is the first intelligent decision I've made in awhile. My quads are shredded, my calves are sore, and my knee keeps cracking when I walk.
I have the 12-hour run coming up in a few weeks, and I want to make sure I'm ready. The trail is pretty hilly and rough. If all goes well, I'd like to break the 50M barrier which I've done twice but never gone over. So... in light of this, I'm taking a day off, maybe two, and I'll be better than ever by the weekend.
Monday, June 19, 2006
The Belt 30K
The running for me actually started at 7:30pm the night before the race. I had volunteered to help mark the course along with a few other people. (Public Service Announcement: For those who have never volunteered for a race, you should really consider doing it. Not only is it a chance to give back for some great races, but I believe you can't fully appreciate the hard work that goes into these things until you've viewed them from the other side).
Abe and I trekked down the Hill of Life at 7:30pm and had 2 miles before we got to the area we would start marking. Abe is a lot faster than me and did not plan to run the race in the morning, so he took off and I tried to follow. I have to admit, it was harder running than I planned to do the night before the race. We marked about 5 miles of the 30K course and had about a 2 mile run back to our cars. We covered about 9 miles and finished around 9:30. I went home and tried to get some sleep.
Race morning I woke up a little sore from the night before. Oops, that wasn't my goal. No big deal though, I'm just running for the mileage and the fun, and although once the race starts I always run as hard as I can, I wasn't worried about my time. I focus on my effort, and starting tired won't affect that. At 6:30am we started.
The first 10 miles were pretty easy. There were a few big climbs like the Hill of Life and the Scenic Overlook climbs, but they didn't hurt. Actually, because we had 2 nights of rainstorms, the trails were a muddy mess. This always makes it more fun, but for me it really hurt on the downhills. Normally, I run down hills pretty well and can recover from the climbs during this time. But the rocks were slippery and the mud was thick, so I had to tip-toe down the hills and this took a lot of effort and really wore down my quads on the downhills. Around 12 miles, my legs were exhausted.
No problem, I've run through much worse exhaustion than this. I was getting a little dehydrated because of the humidity caused by the recent rain. So I chugged a few cokes at the last 2 aid stations. This was a mistake, now my legs were mush and my stomach was sludge. Still, only 4 miles to go at this point, so I knew I could run right through it. And I did, finishing strong and very happy with my effort.
That was the 3rd and final race of the Rogue Trail Series. It was a great series and its a great family of Austin trail runners that show up for it. I can't wait to do it again next year!
Abe and I trekked down the Hill of Life at 7:30pm and had 2 miles before we got to the area we would start marking. Abe is a lot faster than me and did not plan to run the race in the morning, so he took off and I tried to follow. I have to admit, it was harder running than I planned to do the night before the race. We marked about 5 miles of the 30K course and had about a 2 mile run back to our cars. We covered about 9 miles and finished around 9:30. I went home and tried to get some sleep.
Race morning I woke up a little sore from the night before. Oops, that wasn't my goal. No big deal though, I'm just running for the mileage and the fun, and although once the race starts I always run as hard as I can, I wasn't worried about my time. I focus on my effort, and starting tired won't affect that. At 6:30am we started.
The first 10 miles were pretty easy. There were a few big climbs like the Hill of Life and the Scenic Overlook climbs, but they didn't hurt. Actually, because we had 2 nights of rainstorms, the trails were a muddy mess. This always makes it more fun, but for me it really hurt on the downhills. Normally, I run down hills pretty well and can recover from the climbs during this time. But the rocks were slippery and the mud was thick, so I had to tip-toe down the hills and this took a lot of effort and really wore down my quads on the downhills. Around 12 miles, my legs were exhausted.
No problem, I've run through much worse exhaustion than this. I was getting a little dehydrated because of the humidity caused by the recent rain. So I chugged a few cokes at the last 2 aid stations. This was a mistake, now my legs were mush and my stomach was sludge. Still, only 4 miles to go at this point, so I knew I could run right through it. And I did, finishing strong and very happy with my effort.
That was the 3rd and final race of the Rogue Trail Series. It was a great series and its a great family of Austin trail runners that show up for it. I can't wait to do it again next year!
Monday, June 12, 2006
Tragedy strikes Pittsburgh
I got back to work after leaving for a long lunch to watch the US Soccer match, which by the way did not go very well. When I got back to my desk there was a voicemail form my dad, and his voice sounded alarmed. He seemed to be in shock, as if a family member was critically hurt or another 911 had occured.
But then he told me what the emergency was all about. Ben Roethlisberger has been in a motorcycle accident, and because he was not wearing a helmet, is in critical but stable condition. It's crazy how serious us Yinzers (AKA Pittsburghers) take our football.
I like Big Ben a lot, he is a great QB, a real genuine down to earth guy, a family man, and from all things I have heard, just a really good guy. But he's also a rich athlete who thinks he's invincible. Riding without a helmet is a silly thing to do. I really hope he will be OK for the sake of himself, his family, and the entire city that lives through him when he's on the field. I also hope he'll fully recover and stay off of his bike, or at least wear a helmet.
Sorry, this has very little to do with running or being, but since everyone in the office has to come up to me to talk to me about this story, I thought I'd get a little of it off my chest.
But then he told me what the emergency was all about. Ben Roethlisberger has been in a motorcycle accident, and because he was not wearing a helmet, is in critical but stable condition. It's crazy how serious us Yinzers (AKA Pittsburghers) take our football.
I like Big Ben a lot, he is a great QB, a real genuine down to earth guy, a family man, and from all things I have heard, just a really good guy. But he's also a rich athlete who thinks he's invincible. Riding without a helmet is a silly thing to do. I really hope he will be OK for the sake of himself, his family, and the entire city that lives through him when he's on the field. I also hope he'll fully recover and stay off of his bike, or at least wear a helmet.
Sorry, this has very little to do with running or being, but since everyone in the office has to come up to me to talk to me about this story, I thought I'd get a little of it off my chest.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Running and Being
I was running hills on Tuesday with Jim, John, Kara and Stacey, and as we were recoving on a long downhill we were discussing the philosophies of running, in particular the difference of road running and trail running.
It's obvious when you go to a an event or race that the dynamics are different, as are the people who compete. I'm not going to discuss which is better, my race schedule will adequately describe my opinion on that. But we were trying to put into words the difference between the people who run road races (5K's - marathons) and those who run trails at any distance. It could be a trail 10K or a trail 135M run. I tried to put into words the difference, and all I came up with was that when you go to a trail run, you see people who consider running an essential part of their life. I don't know if this is accurate (and I'm not saying road runners don't feel the same way) , but it's my observation, and it certainly is true for me.
Go to a trail run. People there love to run. Ask them why they run, and no one will say "I just wanted to say I could run a marathon." It is a major part of their life, it gives them meaning, it replinishes their soul, it challenges them, rewards them, takes them closer to the beauty of the outdoors. It does all of these things for me. Without running, specifically trail running and ultra distances, I would not be the person that I am. It gives me confidence in all aspects of my life. It removes limits. It cleanses my mind when I need it the most, it challenges me, it's the ultimate vice. It makes me a better friend and husband, but also reminds me how important my friends and family are to me. I couldn't do this without their support. Running is a critical part of my life, and my life is critical to my running.
It's a perfect balance, Bunning And Being.
It's obvious when you go to a an event or race that the dynamics are different, as are the people who compete. I'm not going to discuss which is better, my race schedule will adequately describe my opinion on that. But we were trying to put into words the difference between the people who run road races (5K's - marathons) and those who run trails at any distance. It could be a trail 10K or a trail 135M run. I tried to put into words the difference, and all I came up with was that when you go to a trail run, you see people who consider running an essential part of their life. I don't know if this is accurate (and I'm not saying road runners don't feel the same way) , but it's my observation, and it certainly is true for me.
Go to a trail run. People there love to run. Ask them why they run, and no one will say "I just wanted to say I could run a marathon." It is a major part of their life, it gives them meaning, it replinishes their soul, it challenges them, rewards them, takes them closer to the beauty of the outdoors. It does all of these things for me. Without running, specifically trail running and ultra distances, I would not be the person that I am. It gives me confidence in all aspects of my life. It removes limits. It cleanses my mind when I need it the most, it challenges me, it's the ultimate vice. It makes me a better friend and husband, but also reminds me how important my friends and family are to me. I couldn't do this without their support. Running is a critical part of my life, and my life is critical to my running.
It's a perfect balance, Bunning And Being.
Upcoming Races
OK, After last weekends struggles through Bandera and my eventual success, I've decided I need to figure out my running plans for the next couple of months. I do this every few months, I pick a bunch of races I'm going to do, then I skip them all and do a bunch of other races instead.
But, anyways, I'm going to do it again. Last weekend was encouraging, so (barring injury) I'm ready to commit to running the Bandera 100K in January. So here's what I'm thinking:
6/18 - The Belt 30K
7/8 - Capt'n Karls 12-hour night run
8/20 - Pike Peak Marathon
9/8 - Bandera 50/75/100M Fat Ass (I'll probably do 50M or less, considering its just 2 weeks after Pike's Peak
9/17 - Lake Bryan Fat Ass 50K (It's free!)
10/28 - Rocky Raccoon 50K (I probably won't do this)
11/4 - Rocky Trails 50M
11/18 - Warda Cardiac Run 50M (questionable on this one)
November - Ultra Centric 12/24/48 hour run (thinking 24hr)
December - Sunmart 50M
1/13 - Bandera 100K
My current plan is to do all of this to build up for the Bandera 100K and focus on that run and Pike's Peak. Then there is the Rocky Raccoon 100M in February which I'm not ruling out, but no where close to being ready for. Not physically or mentally. I need to think about that some more.
But, anyways, I'm going to do it again. Last weekend was encouraging, so (barring injury) I'm ready to commit to running the Bandera 100K in January. So here's what I'm thinking:
6/18 - The Belt 30K
7/8 - Capt'n Karls 12-hour night run
8/20 - Pike Peak Marathon
9/8 - Bandera 50/75/100M Fat Ass (I'll probably do 50M or less, considering its just 2 weeks after Pike's Peak
9/17 - Lake Bryan Fat Ass 50K (It's free!)
10/28 - Rocky Raccoon 50K (I probably won't do this)
11/4 - Rocky Trails 50M
11/18 - Warda Cardiac Run 50M (questionable on this one)
November - Ultra Centric 12/24/48 hour run (thinking 24hr)
December - Sunmart 50M
1/13 - Bandera 100K
My current plan is to do all of this to build up for the Bandera 100K and focus on that run and Pike's Peak. Then there is the Rocky Raccoon 100M in February which I'm not ruling out, but no where close to being ready for. Not physically or mentally. I need to think about that some more.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
The Longest Day
First of all, a warning. This post will likely be long and will surely be melodramatic. It's really a post for me to look back on, but all are welcome to read it. You've been warned.
The sun was setting as Joe and I laid our camelbacks down on the top of Cairn's Climb to rest. 45 miles were behind us, the Texas heat was behind us, the hills were behind us. It was just an easy 5 mile coast back to camp at dusk separating us from all of the pizza and gatorade we could get our hands on. We both laid down, flat on our backs for a well deserved rest. It had been the longest day of my life, I had no doubt faced my toughest self-induced physical and mental challenges of my life today and I was victorious! I can not say I did it alone, nor would I want to. I was thrilled! If you looked at me at that moment, you would see an energized human being ready for any challenge the world could throw at him. There was no trace of the days struggles. Joe and I laid there comfortably, in no hurry to finish our run. He said "This is what it's all about." It's an often used phrase, but at this moment, they were the most true words ever spoken to me...
We started our run at 6am. Our crew was made up of me (a young, inexperienced yet ambitious trail runner turned ultra runner), Joe, and Allen. Joe is as experienced as a trail runner can be. He's a race director of several trail runs, inlcuding the Rocky Raccoon 100M and the Bandera 100K, among others. Allen is also quite experienced, and just a few weeks away from his first attempt at Western States. I was out-classed for sure, but I was going to hang with these guys because I'm mentally tough (or so I thought), and I'm ignorant enough
to believe this.
The first 13 miles were uneventful. The air was warm, and a hot day was obviously in front of us. It was humid, and by 9am it was already in the mid-80's. We made our way up and down Ice Cream hill and the three sisters, and I thought to myself that these hills weren't so bad. We stopped at our first home made aid station, refueled and
headed out for the 10-mile lodge loop. Around mile 15 we started seeing the gang from the Rogue Running group. Everyone looked strong and healthy. They were all around 15 miles also, coming in the opposite direction, and they were scheduled for 20. Their day was almost over. As we passed the last of them around mile 20, I started
to get hot. It was well into the 90's at this point, and not yet noon. This is when we started taking occasional breaks under shade trees, to cool off and hydrate, before we got back on the trails. These breaks would get longer and more regular as the day went on.
We finished our first loop of 25 miles and headed back into camp. Most of the Rogue crew was back at camp getting ready to head into Bandera for some food and a swim in the Medina River. I cooled off, ate a slice of pizza and we went back out. As I took my first steps out of camp, I had no clue what I had just gotten myself into.
Mile 27 - I realized I was severely over-heating and knew I better slow down. Joe was getting hot and tired also, and was all about slowing down. But Allen was strong and continued to push the pace. Joe and I are work horses and followed the leader as much as possible. It was as if the heat was not hitting Allen, he ran up to Ice Cream Hill for our second pass, and power walked right up to the top. I could no longer follow. I took about 20 steps up the hill and stopped. The heat was pounding the top of my head, I felt dizzy, I could barely think clearly, and did not even attempt to talk. Joe and Allen disappeared around the corner. I took a few more steps and almost fell backwards. I remember it so clearly... I tried every mind game I could think of. Just one foot in front of the other, I told myself. You can do anything, if you believe in yourself, I tried to convince myself. You are a tough SOB, quit feeling sorry for yourself, I screamed to myself. None of it was working. So I put my head down, emptied my mind, and slowly climbed to the top. I don't know how long it took, it seemed like hours, but I eventually made it to the top. Joe and Allen were resting at the top under a tree, and Joe told me to sit down and rest. I did as I was told, I never said a word. I knew I couldn't speak, I didn't have it in me. I was sure if I tried, I would mumble or slur something that made no sense. I just kept questioning how I would ever get back to Joe's truck, and even if I did, I thought that it was dangerous and stupid to continue. I also thought about how I could not quit, it wasn't in me. Everything that drives me in running and in being was based on the foundation that you have to believe in yourself, and that you can never quit. It was OK to lose, it was OK to fail, but it was not OK to quit. It was my lowest low I've ever reached on the trails. And then I fell asleep. Minutes later I woke up to Joe's voice, "OK Teej, get off your ass. Time to go." I didn't question it, I got up and followed them down the hill.
With 2 miles to go to the truck, I slurped the last drops from my camelback. I was walking already, and my walk was getting slower. I was beaten. Joe and Allen were a hundred yards in front of me, and I occasionally saw them look back to make sure I was still there. They knew my condition, and knew it wouldn't help to wait for me. They had to keep me moving by staying barely in eyes reach, and they did that for 2 miles. I walked most of the way, I jogged occasionally, but it was fruitless. I thought to myself that I had to quit, not for my sake, but for their's. Joe was getting his last tough run before Hard Rock; and Allen, Western States. They didn't need a poser like me slowing them down. When we finally reached the truck, I sat down and apologized for holding them back. I was looking for a response that would indicate they would prefer to go on without me. Instead they said that it was all about time on their feet, and I should continue. So I slammed a 20-oz Coke, a 32-oz Gatorade, and poured ice cold water all over my head, neck and back. I sat under a tree and cooled off. I felt better, but knew there were hours of 100 degree heat in front of me. We were only at mile 35.
After a good 15 minute rest, we got back on our feet and headed out. Allen mentioned that his stomach was upset and Joe and I joked that we kind of hoped he got sick, so he would quit pushing the pace. We got a laugh out of that, not realizing the foreshadowing. We hit the first hill and my body was still cool from the Coke and ice. I climbed the hill at a decent pace and realized at that point that I was getting better. I felt cool and my legs were strong. I waited at the top for Allen and Joe. They both seemed spent. I asked them if it had finally cooled off, because the heat wasn't hurting so bad. They grunted and said that I must be feeling better, because it was hotter than ever. Perfect! That was the sign I needed, I was finally back. I started running the flats and downhills, and swiftly walking the long, steep uphills. I would wait at the top of each hill for Joe and Allen. At the top of the first Sister, I waited a long time. When Joe finally showed up he told me that Allen was puking. I felt bad because we had kind of wished it upon him jokingly, and I felt like I had stolen his energy.
The next several miles went quickly and painlessly, and we got back to the truck at 40 miles. Allen was done, and bowed out. Joe and I were a little disappointed to see him drop, but he said he got what he wanted out of the run. So Joe and I plowed on. We knew we had one serious hill left, Cairn's Climb. It had been many hours since we were there last, and this was the hill that knocked me to the canvas in the first round. When we reached it, I plowed up it, and even ran most of it because I knew we were almost finished and I had so much energy. I waited at the top for Joe, and when he reached the top we sat down, then laid down, as the sun set...
The finsh was uneventful, almost anti-climactic as we headed back to camp for the last 5 miles. We talked a lot about running and life. All of my runs with Joe are like this, he is salt of the earth. In the end, I found an entire pizza saved for me by Jim and Nicole, and a few people that waited up late for us to get back. Most people had gone to sleep, in preparation for a 10 miler in the morning. We talked shortly, before everyone went to bed. It had been a such a long day, and I decided I would not try to describe it that night, because I did not have the words to describe it. Looking back, I realized a few things about this run, and their parallels to all challenges in life:
- No matter how strong you are, you can not get through the toughest challenges alone.
- Despite challenging my mantra at times, we are all capable of amazing things if we believe in ourselves.
- There are many good people in this world, surrounding yourself with them will lead to happiness.
- We are all in need of challenges. Do not try to avoid them, they build strength and character.
Oh, and one more lesson. I'm ready for the Bandera 100K!
The sun was setting as Joe and I laid our camelbacks down on the top of Cairn's Climb to rest. 45 miles were behind us, the Texas heat was behind us, the hills were behind us. It was just an easy 5 mile coast back to camp at dusk separating us from all of the pizza and gatorade we could get our hands on. We both laid down, flat on our backs for a well deserved rest. It had been the longest day of my life, I had no doubt faced my toughest self-induced physical and mental challenges of my life today and I was victorious! I can not say I did it alone, nor would I want to. I was thrilled! If you looked at me at that moment, you would see an energized human being ready for any challenge the world could throw at him. There was no trace of the days struggles. Joe and I laid there comfortably, in no hurry to finish our run. He said "This is what it's all about." It's an often used phrase, but at this moment, they were the most true words ever spoken to me...
We started our run at 6am. Our crew was made up of me (a young, inexperienced yet ambitious trail runner turned ultra runner), Joe, and Allen. Joe is as experienced as a trail runner can be. He's a race director of several trail runs, inlcuding the Rocky Raccoon 100M and the Bandera 100K, among others. Allen is also quite experienced, and just a few weeks away from his first attempt at Western States. I was out-classed for sure, but I was going to hang with these guys because I'm mentally tough (or so I thought), and I'm ignorant enough
to believe this.
The first 13 miles were uneventful. The air was warm, and a hot day was obviously in front of us. It was humid, and by 9am it was already in the mid-80's. We made our way up and down Ice Cream hill and the three sisters, and I thought to myself that these hills weren't so bad. We stopped at our first home made aid station, refueled and
headed out for the 10-mile lodge loop. Around mile 15 we started seeing the gang from the Rogue Running group. Everyone looked strong and healthy. They were all around 15 miles also, coming in the opposite direction, and they were scheduled for 20. Their day was almost over. As we passed the last of them around mile 20, I started
to get hot. It was well into the 90's at this point, and not yet noon. This is when we started taking occasional breaks under shade trees, to cool off and hydrate, before we got back on the trails. These breaks would get longer and more regular as the day went on.
We finished our first loop of 25 miles and headed back into camp. Most of the Rogue crew was back at camp getting ready to head into Bandera for some food and a swim in the Medina River. I cooled off, ate a slice of pizza and we went back out. As I took my first steps out of camp, I had no clue what I had just gotten myself into.
Mile 27 - I realized I was severely over-heating and knew I better slow down. Joe was getting hot and tired also, and was all about slowing down. But Allen was strong and continued to push the pace. Joe and I are work horses and followed the leader as much as possible. It was as if the heat was not hitting Allen, he ran up to Ice Cream Hill for our second pass, and power walked right up to the top. I could no longer follow. I took about 20 steps up the hill and stopped. The heat was pounding the top of my head, I felt dizzy, I could barely think clearly, and did not even attempt to talk. Joe and Allen disappeared around the corner. I took a few more steps and almost fell backwards. I remember it so clearly... I tried every mind game I could think of. Just one foot in front of the other, I told myself. You can do anything, if you believe in yourself, I tried to convince myself. You are a tough SOB, quit feeling sorry for yourself, I screamed to myself. None of it was working. So I put my head down, emptied my mind, and slowly climbed to the top. I don't know how long it took, it seemed like hours, but I eventually made it to the top. Joe and Allen were resting at the top under a tree, and Joe told me to sit down and rest. I did as I was told, I never said a word. I knew I couldn't speak, I didn't have it in me. I was sure if I tried, I would mumble or slur something that made no sense. I just kept questioning how I would ever get back to Joe's truck, and even if I did, I thought that it was dangerous and stupid to continue. I also thought about how I could not quit, it wasn't in me. Everything that drives me in running and in being was based on the foundation that you have to believe in yourself, and that you can never quit. It was OK to lose, it was OK to fail, but it was not OK to quit. It was my lowest low I've ever reached on the trails. And then I fell asleep. Minutes later I woke up to Joe's voice, "OK Teej, get off your ass. Time to go." I didn't question it, I got up and followed them down the hill.
With 2 miles to go to the truck, I slurped the last drops from my camelback. I was walking already, and my walk was getting slower. I was beaten. Joe and Allen were a hundred yards in front of me, and I occasionally saw them look back to make sure I was still there. They knew my condition, and knew it wouldn't help to wait for me. They had to keep me moving by staying barely in eyes reach, and they did that for 2 miles. I walked most of the way, I jogged occasionally, but it was fruitless. I thought to myself that I had to quit, not for my sake, but for their's. Joe was getting his last tough run before Hard Rock; and Allen, Western States. They didn't need a poser like me slowing them down. When we finally reached the truck, I sat down and apologized for holding them back. I was looking for a response that would indicate they would prefer to go on without me. Instead they said that it was all about time on their feet, and I should continue. So I slammed a 20-oz Coke, a 32-oz Gatorade, and poured ice cold water all over my head, neck and back. I sat under a tree and cooled off. I felt better, but knew there were hours of 100 degree heat in front of me. We were only at mile 35.
After a good 15 minute rest, we got back on our feet and headed out. Allen mentioned that his stomach was upset and Joe and I joked that we kind of hoped he got sick, so he would quit pushing the pace. We got a laugh out of that, not realizing the foreshadowing. We hit the first hill and my body was still cool from the Coke and ice. I climbed the hill at a decent pace and realized at that point that I was getting better. I felt cool and my legs were strong. I waited at the top for Allen and Joe. They both seemed spent. I asked them if it had finally cooled off, because the heat wasn't hurting so bad. They grunted and said that I must be feeling better, because it was hotter than ever. Perfect! That was the sign I needed, I was finally back. I started running the flats and downhills, and swiftly walking the long, steep uphills. I would wait at the top of each hill for Joe and Allen. At the top of the first Sister, I waited a long time. When Joe finally showed up he told me that Allen was puking. I felt bad because we had kind of wished it upon him jokingly, and I felt like I had stolen his energy.
The next several miles went quickly and painlessly, and we got back to the truck at 40 miles. Allen was done, and bowed out. Joe and I were a little disappointed to see him drop, but he said he got what he wanted out of the run. So Joe and I plowed on. We knew we had one serious hill left, Cairn's Climb. It had been many hours since we were there last, and this was the hill that knocked me to the canvas in the first round. When we reached it, I plowed up it, and even ran most of it because I knew we were almost finished and I had so much energy. I waited at the top for Joe, and when he reached the top we sat down, then laid down, as the sun set...
The finsh was uneventful, almost anti-climactic as we headed back to camp for the last 5 miles. We talked a lot about running and life. All of my runs with Joe are like this, he is salt of the earth. In the end, I found an entire pizza saved for me by Jim and Nicole, and a few people that waited up late for us to get back. Most people had gone to sleep, in preparation for a 10 miler in the morning. We talked shortly, before everyone went to bed. It had been a such a long day, and I decided I would not try to describe it that night, because I did not have the words to describe it. Looking back, I realized a few things about this run, and their parallels to all challenges in life:
- No matter how strong you are, you can not get through the toughest challenges alone.
- Despite challenging my mantra at times, we are all capable of amazing things if we believe in ourselves.
- There are many good people in this world, surrounding yourself with them will lead to happiness.
- We are all in need of challenges. Do not try to avoid them, they build strength and character.
Oh, and one more lesson. I'm ready for the Bandera 100K!
Friday, June 02, 2006
Bandera
I'm heading out to Bandera around 3pm today and starting to get really nervous. This isn't a race, its just a fun run, and I do plan to have a lot of fun. However, I also plan to finish the 50M. I've run one 50 miler before, but it was in the flats of east Texas. This will be in the Texas hill country, a whole different challenge.
Right now it looks like it will be about 3-5 of us starting the run, although I got an email from Joe last night and he said that it will "likely be just the two of us for the full 50." I'll have to hang with him or drop out, because I don't know these trails at all. He also said "the map will do you very little good." Super...
The rest of the Rogue Pike's Peak training group will be out there too, but only running 20 miles. There are about 20 or so of them going. For Sunday, the plan is to run between 10-20 miles, although if I finish the 50, then walking 1 mile on Sunday might be good enough for me.
On a side note, some co-workers and I went to Wendy's yesterday for a Frosty eating challenge. I ate two large Frosty's. This was a speed competition, and I finished the second Frosty in 1:59. That's what I call carbo-loading. I'm hoping those extra carbs will carry me through the last few miles this weekend.
Right now it looks like it will be about 3-5 of us starting the run, although I got an email from Joe last night and he said that it will "likely be just the two of us for the full 50." I'll have to hang with him or drop out, because I don't know these trails at all. He also said "the map will do you very little good." Super...
The rest of the Rogue Pike's Peak training group will be out there too, but only running 20 miles. There are about 20 or so of them going. For Sunday, the plan is to run between 10-20 miles, although if I finish the 50, then walking 1 mile on Sunday might be good enough for me.
On a side note, some co-workers and I went to Wendy's yesterday for a Frosty eating challenge. I ate two large Frosty's. This was a speed competition, and I finished the second Frosty in 1:59. That's what I call carbo-loading. I'm hoping those extra carbs will carry me through the last few miles this weekend.
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