I took a week completely off after TRT100, then started some x-training last weekend. I'm doing some mountain biking and plyometrics right now, just some things that don't have miles and miles of heavy impact on my feet and knees.
Wednesday I went out for a very quick run around St Edwards. Just one 3 mile loop was all I decided to do. I considered a second loop, but my achilles hurt and mostly I just wanted to get out there and end the 10 day break from running after TRT. It felt good. I hammered up all of the hills and felt great, down hurt my achilles a little but not bad. Woke up feeling good today, so I think I'm in the clear on my quick TRT100 recovery. After Bighorn it took 3 months, so I'm excited!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tahoe Rim Trail 100M
I woke up at 3AM on Saturday morning to catch a bus ride from the host hotel in Carson City to the start of the race. I said goodbye to Kara and Micah and told them I'd see them at mile 25. I normally try to show up at races very close to the start time because I hate standing around, but the bus forced me to get there an hour early. I hung out with John (from San Antonio) and Allen (from Houston) waiting for the race to start. At 5AM sharp, we were off. They went up ahead of me, but I would see them both again...
The race starts with an 8 mile climb up about 1500 feet. It was an easy power walk, there were way too many people on this single track trail to do anything else. Besides, I new I had a long day in front of me so I was in no hurry at all. I hit the Tunnel aid station at 16 miles well ahead of 24-hour pace. While that would be great, I knew 24-hours wasn't within reach for me yet, at least not on this course. Hunstville, sure, but not on a course with 20,000 ft. of climbing.
An hour later, I made my first big mistake. After a sharp descent, there was a 700 ft steep incline out of the Red House aid station. I felt great, so I powered up it quickly. My heart rate red-lined, and by the time I got to the top of the climb I was beat. At that point, I should have laid back and recovered, but I pushed on for the next 10 miles of uphill climbing. Most of this portion of the trail is on what locals called "powder" but in Texas we call it sand. It was tough terrain to run on, your feet slid on the uphills and your shoes filled with sand on the downhills. I learned a valuable lesson on this trail, gaiters are not girly. I would have killed for a pair of gaiters on this trail, and I'm going to order a pair when I get home. By the time I hit 20 miles, I was beat. It didn't help that the aid station between Tunnel (16 miles) and Rose Mountain (26 miles) was missing. I had plenty of water, but it was mentally disturbing because you had no idea how far you had gone. On top of this, the altitude had hit me hard, and my poor pacing had knocked me down. I was nauseous and couldn't eat anything solid. I stumbled on for the next 25 miles to the half way point in a complete daze. It was frustrating.. While I knew I could recover, and always have recovered from these spells, I also knew that I would need to eat for it to happen. Only half way and I was beaten.
And then I reached Spooner Lake, the half way point. All I can say is thank goodness for friends, family, and the great trail running community. At Spooner my wonderful supportive wife was there to take care of my needs. Normally, I push my way in and out of the aid station, but she recognized that I needed to recover before I left again. She and Allen recommended some chicken noodle soup, which tasted like heaven. It was the first real food I had eaten in 12 hours. I ate 3 cups of soup and tons of canteloupe. A veteran runner (I know he was a veteran because he had a Badwater buckle on) working the aid station diagnosed my troubles, gave me salt and helped clean up my feet. I didn't catch his name, but I thanked him as I left. He said no problem, and told me to make sure I finish. After 25 minutes at the aid station I was feeling great. I watched several people come in and drop due to the heat (85 was the peak temp, not too bad after a solid Texas summer of training), and I think I took their energy each time I saw someone drop. I heard only 57% of 100 milers finished that day due to the heat... I left feeling good, and for the first time I knew that I would finish this race. I said goodbye to Kara and Micah, since I would not see them again until the following morning at the finish line.
The second 50 was identical to the first. I left Spooner at 13.5 hours, moving at a slightly slower pace than I had started. I figured 27 hours was probably out of reach, but I hadn't completely given up on it. I knew I was feeling better, but I also knew it would be tough to keep up the same pace in the dark. For now, I just power walked up to Tunnel aid station again at a similar pace to the first loop.
Darkness fell around mile 60, and it was a pleasant change. I got to watch the sun set over Lake Tahoe from a solitary spot on top of a 9000ft mountain, which was a magnificent site. It was just another reminder of why trail running, and especially ultra trail running, gives us rare moments that very few ever have. While enjoying the view, I sat down to check out my feet which were beginning to hurt. I discovered a couple of really big blisters on both feet. They were treatable, but it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I was proud in a way, because foot care was my fatal flaw last year at Big Horn. This time, I vowed to take my time and treat my problems before they ruined my run. A year ago I lost 2-3 hours because I was trying to tough out the pain in my feet, this time I wouldn't let that happen. I duct taped all the bad areas and put on some new socks. I had a new bounce in my step again.
As I hit the big hill out of Red House, I reminded myself not to ruin this loop like I did the first by powering up the hill. It was dark, and much cooler, but the hill was just as steep and sandy. I took it a little slower, but not much because I just felt so good. At the top I had a few more bowls of soup giving me some needed energy and also some time to recover, then proceeded up the long slow climb to Mt Rose (76 miles). Around 70 miles I saw John, who had taken off in front of me about 10 hours earlier as I was struggling on the first loop. He was hurting bad and announced he would drop at Mt. Rose. He had just run Big Horn last week, and his body was done. Normally I would try to talk someone out of stopping, but this was one of the rare times where I agreed he was done and that there should be no regrets in the morning.
At Mt Rose, I had some more soup and tried a piece of cheese pizza that one of the volunteers offered. The pizza wouldn't sit, so I threw it out and took off towards home. This was the final 24 miles to the finish line. By now it was 2am. I knew I had 30 hours easily, with 28 as a real possibility. 28 in the mountains would be very satisfying for me, especially given my rough start. I ran from 75 to 80 miles still feeling good and keeping a good pace. As I passed most areas, I reminded myself of how bad I felt 14 hours earlier and how much better I was now. Around 80, however, things started to fall apart. My left Achilles tightened up pretty badly, and my left foot extensor muscle (top of the foot, used to pull your foot toward your shin - I had to look that up) starting aching. Within minutes, I could barely lift my left toes up while I ran. Up hill was OK, so I began running up hills that I normally would have power walked. Downhills, however, just wouldn't work. Unfortunately, most of the final 20 miles is down hill, including a 7 mile descent at the end. I hit the final major aid station, Snow Valley Peak, at 26 hours. It was 7.1 miles to the finish and a 2000 ft drop. If I could run, even after slowing down dramatically, I could have been close to 27 hours. But I knew 27 was out and so was 28 since I would be walking down the mountain. Even 29 was a stretch considering I could only limp down the hill. It was frustrating, but my main goal was to finish, break 30, and run a smart race. I was clearly going to succeed all 3, so it was still a joy to continue.
As I approached the finish, I did finally find some adrenaline to drown out the pain, and got into a decent jog towards the finish line. At the finish line was Robert, Diana, Kara and Micah. It was the first time Micah got to see my finish, which felt great. He's 5 months old, I don't pretend that he'll remember it, but it was still meaningful to me. I finished in 29:14, not what I had hoped, but it also gave me a ton of confidence for future runs. I was just one muscle away from finishing strong and probably close to 27 hours. At least in my mind, that was a success. I learned from mistakes of my first 100, and learned a few more lessons on this one.
The Tahoe Rim Trail is an awesome place, a trail everyone should run or hike at some point. It had some of the most amazing views I've ever seen. The race support was flawless, the volunteers were friendly and in most cases, experienced. I am also grateful for the support of my family, and also the other runners out there. Robert and Allen each gave me some sage advice and medicine when I needed it out on the trail when they could have focused solely on their own run. As always, this run was a gentle reminder that we can't succeed in great things by ourselves. I hope to be able to repay everyone in the future.
The race starts with an 8 mile climb up about 1500 feet. It was an easy power walk, there were way too many people on this single track trail to do anything else. Besides, I new I had a long day in front of me so I was in no hurry at all. I hit the Tunnel aid station at 16 miles well ahead of 24-hour pace. While that would be great, I knew 24-hours wasn't within reach for me yet, at least not on this course. Hunstville, sure, but not on a course with 20,000 ft. of climbing.
An hour later, I made my first big mistake. After a sharp descent, there was a 700 ft steep incline out of the Red House aid station. I felt great, so I powered up it quickly. My heart rate red-lined, and by the time I got to the top of the climb I was beat. At that point, I should have laid back and recovered, but I pushed on for the next 10 miles of uphill climbing. Most of this portion of the trail is on what locals called "powder" but in Texas we call it sand. It was tough terrain to run on, your feet slid on the uphills and your shoes filled with sand on the downhills. I learned a valuable lesson on this trail, gaiters are not girly. I would have killed for a pair of gaiters on this trail, and I'm going to order a pair when I get home. By the time I hit 20 miles, I was beat. It didn't help that the aid station between Tunnel (16 miles) and Rose Mountain (26 miles) was missing. I had plenty of water, but it was mentally disturbing because you had no idea how far you had gone. On top of this, the altitude had hit me hard, and my poor pacing had knocked me down. I was nauseous and couldn't eat anything solid. I stumbled on for the next 25 miles to the half way point in a complete daze. It was frustrating.. While I knew I could recover, and always have recovered from these spells, I also knew that I would need to eat for it to happen. Only half way and I was beaten.
And then I reached Spooner Lake, the half way point. All I can say is thank goodness for friends, family, and the great trail running community. At Spooner my wonderful supportive wife was there to take care of my needs. Normally, I push my way in and out of the aid station, but she recognized that I needed to recover before I left again. She and Allen recommended some chicken noodle soup, which tasted like heaven. It was the first real food I had eaten in 12 hours. I ate 3 cups of soup and tons of canteloupe. A veteran runner (I know he was a veteran because he had a Badwater buckle on) working the aid station diagnosed my troubles, gave me salt and helped clean up my feet. I didn't catch his name, but I thanked him as I left. He said no problem, and told me to make sure I finish. After 25 minutes at the aid station I was feeling great. I watched several people come in and drop due to the heat (85 was the peak temp, not too bad after a solid Texas summer of training), and I think I took their energy each time I saw someone drop. I heard only 57% of 100 milers finished that day due to the heat... I left feeling good, and for the first time I knew that I would finish this race. I said goodbye to Kara and Micah, since I would not see them again until the following morning at the finish line.
The second 50 was identical to the first. I left Spooner at 13.5 hours, moving at a slightly slower pace than I had started. I figured 27 hours was probably out of reach, but I hadn't completely given up on it. I knew I was feeling better, but I also knew it would be tough to keep up the same pace in the dark. For now, I just power walked up to Tunnel aid station again at a similar pace to the first loop.
Darkness fell around mile 60, and it was a pleasant change. I got to watch the sun set over Lake Tahoe from a solitary spot on top of a 9000ft mountain, which was a magnificent site. It was just another reminder of why trail running, and especially ultra trail running, gives us rare moments that very few ever have. While enjoying the view, I sat down to check out my feet which were beginning to hurt. I discovered a couple of really big blisters on both feet. They were treatable, but it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I was proud in a way, because foot care was my fatal flaw last year at Big Horn. This time, I vowed to take my time and treat my problems before they ruined my run. A year ago I lost 2-3 hours because I was trying to tough out the pain in my feet, this time I wouldn't let that happen. I duct taped all the bad areas and put on some new socks. I had a new bounce in my step again.
As I hit the big hill out of Red House, I reminded myself not to ruin this loop like I did the first by powering up the hill. It was dark, and much cooler, but the hill was just as steep and sandy. I took it a little slower, but not much because I just felt so good. At the top I had a few more bowls of soup giving me some needed energy and also some time to recover, then proceeded up the long slow climb to Mt Rose (76 miles). Around 70 miles I saw John, who had taken off in front of me about 10 hours earlier as I was struggling on the first loop. He was hurting bad and announced he would drop at Mt. Rose. He had just run Big Horn last week, and his body was done. Normally I would try to talk someone out of stopping, but this was one of the rare times where I agreed he was done and that there should be no regrets in the morning.
At Mt Rose, I had some more soup and tried a piece of cheese pizza that one of the volunteers offered. The pizza wouldn't sit, so I threw it out and took off towards home. This was the final 24 miles to the finish line. By now it was 2am. I knew I had 30 hours easily, with 28 as a real possibility. 28 in the mountains would be very satisfying for me, especially given my rough start. I ran from 75 to 80 miles still feeling good and keeping a good pace. As I passed most areas, I reminded myself of how bad I felt 14 hours earlier and how much better I was now. Around 80, however, things started to fall apart. My left Achilles tightened up pretty badly, and my left foot extensor muscle (top of the foot, used to pull your foot toward your shin - I had to look that up) starting aching. Within minutes, I could barely lift my left toes up while I ran. Up hill was OK, so I began running up hills that I normally would have power walked. Downhills, however, just wouldn't work. Unfortunately, most of the final 20 miles is down hill, including a 7 mile descent at the end. I hit the final major aid station, Snow Valley Peak, at 26 hours. It was 7.1 miles to the finish and a 2000 ft drop. If I could run, even after slowing down dramatically, I could have been close to 27 hours. But I knew 27 was out and so was 28 since I would be walking down the mountain. Even 29 was a stretch considering I could only limp down the hill. It was frustrating, but my main goal was to finish, break 30, and run a smart race. I was clearly going to succeed all 3, so it was still a joy to continue.
As I approached the finish, I did finally find some adrenaline to drown out the pain, and got into a decent jog towards the finish line. At the finish line was Robert, Diana, Kara and Micah. It was the first time Micah got to see my finish, which felt great. He's 5 months old, I don't pretend that he'll remember it, but it was still meaningful to me. I finished in 29:14, not what I had hoped, but it also gave me a ton of confidence for future runs. I was just one muscle away from finishing strong and probably close to 27 hours. At least in my mind, that was a success. I learned from mistakes of my first 100, and learned a few more lessons on this one.
The Tahoe Rim Trail is an awesome place, a trail everyone should run or hike at some point. It had some of the most amazing views I've ever seen. The race support was flawless, the volunteers were friendly and in most cases, experienced. I am also grateful for the support of my family, and also the other runners out there. Robert and Allen each gave me some sage advice and medicine when I needed it out on the trail when they could have focused solely on their own run. As always, this run was a gentle reminder that we can't succeed in great things by ourselves. I hope to be able to repay everyone in the future.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tapers are Mean
The race is in 2.5 days, and I'm a complete mess. Physically and mentally, I'm just not in good shape. My knee is still hurting, I have no confidence in it anymore. I've always healed quickly, so I haven't completely lost hope, but it ain't looking good. I've been stretching non-stop, and using the foam roller 4 times a day. I've been foam-rolling so much I think some of the pain might be from the roller and not from the original knee problems. I can't even tell anymore. I'm icing every morning and every night.
Mentally, I'm a wreck. I always get nervous before a race, but with the physical unknowns of my knee I'm way worse than usual. I've been so bad that I was questioning whether I should start the race. The thing is, my knee is bad and it will likely be bad the whole race. If my IT band flares up early, there's no way I can fight through it. I know this because I've felt that pain before.
The thing is, I'm so afraid of failure that I'd rather not start if I don't think I can finish. I've never DNF'd, I've never even seriously considered it. To me it's not something I can consider because once I do, I'm already defeated. So here I am, with no confidence that I can go 100 miles, and 2.5 days away from the start. I've been at a crossroads. But then yesterday I had an epiphany. I remembered the old expression "It's better to have tried and failed than to have never tried at all." It's OK that I hate failure, but not so much that it prevents me from attempting anything. So I will start the race. I don't know if I'll finish it, but if I don't I won't have any regrets.
Mentally, I'm a wreck. I always get nervous before a race, but with the physical unknowns of my knee I'm way worse than usual. I've been so bad that I was questioning whether I should start the race. The thing is, my knee is bad and it will likely be bad the whole race. If my IT band flares up early, there's no way I can fight through it. I know this because I've felt that pain before.
The thing is, I'm so afraid of failure that I'd rather not start if I don't think I can finish. I've never DNF'd, I've never even seriously considered it. To me it's not something I can consider because once I do, I'm already defeated. So here I am, with no confidence that I can go 100 miles, and 2.5 days away from the start. I've been at a crossroads. But then yesterday I had an epiphany. I remembered the old expression "It's better to have tried and failed than to have never tried at all." It's OK that I hate failure, but not so much that it prevents me from attempting anything. So I will start the race. I don't know if I'll finish it, but if I don't I won't have any regrets.
Monday, July 14, 2008
IT Band Hell
When my knee started hurting, I had no idea what it was but I was sure it wasn't my IT band. I've had a bad IT band twice, both times when training on roads for my first and second marathon. I know the pain very well, and I knew this wasn't it. It turns out I was wrong, I have ITBS and I have it pretty bad. 5 days to Tahoe and I'm starting to get really worried.
Right now my plan is to stretch it and ice it as much as possible, and we'll just see what happens. I've never DNF'd and don't plan to, but IT band pain is the only pain I've ever had that could have pushed me to it. I hate even talking about this, so I'll stop. My leg is bruised from the foam roller last night, lots more of that tonight.
Congrats to all the hardrockers. You guys got me inspired for my own run.
Right now my plan is to stretch it and ice it as much as possible, and we'll just see what happens. I've never DNF'd and don't plan to, but IT band pain is the only pain I've ever had that could have pushed me to it. I hate even talking about this, so I'll stop. My leg is bruised from the foam roller last night, lots more of that tonight.
Congrats to all the hardrockers. You guys got me inspired for my own run.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Hardrock
One of my favorite things to do this weekend every year is to watch the live Hardrock updates on the web. This year I'm watching the progress of Joe and JT.
It looks like JT started strong, but he just spent 1:15 at the 58 mile aid station, so I just hope everything is going alright. He did leave, and he's way ahead of the cutoff, so I'll be rooting for him. Joe is a few hours behind, but again well ahead of cutoff. I think a bone would have to be hanging out for him not to keep going.
Good luck guys, I'll be rooting for you all day.
On a personal note, my knee is feeling a little better. It still feels swollen, but the pain is a little less. I haven't run now in 8 days. I biked a little at the gym, and have been doing some upper body weights, but no running. I would like to test it out sometime this weekend, but probably not until tomorrow.
It looks like JT started strong, but he just spent 1:15 at the 58 mile aid station, so I just hope everything is going alright. He did leave, and he's way ahead of the cutoff, so I'll be rooting for him. Joe is a few hours behind, but again well ahead of cutoff. I think a bone would have to be hanging out for him not to keep going.
Good luck guys, I'll be rooting for you all day.
On a personal note, my knee is feeling a little better. It still feels swollen, but the pain is a little less. I haven't run now in 8 days. I biked a little at the gym, and have been doing some upper body weights, but no running. I would like to test it out sometime this weekend, but probably not until tomorrow.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Jacked Up Knee
So far my taper is less active than I had hoped. Before the 30K last weekend my knee was hurting, but I didn't take it too seriously. After the race, it hurt a little but not much worse. And I knew my tapering was starting, so I had lots of recovery time.
Well, fast forward to Friday. I went for a 10 mile run with a friend of mine, just an easy loop around town lake. A mile from the finish I had to pull up and walk it in because my knee hurt. It's a new pain, I'm not sure what to make of it. It hurts all the time, not just when I'm running. It's not a sharp pain, its a dull nagging discomfort. It feels kind of swollen, but it doesn't look swollen. And it cracks when I walk. It can't be good going into a 100M run.
So, I'm taking it easy (read: not running at all). I'll probably do very little running before Tahoe. My thoughts are that I could screw something up running on it, while not running will have very little short term impact on my goal, which is to run well at Tahoe and to finish.
There was one other notable experience this long 4th of July weekend. I took Micah running in his baby stroller on Thursday. He's been on lots of walks, but that was his first run. It was his 5 month birthday. It was surprisingly tough to run even small hills while pushing a stroller, especially since you can't really use your arms at all.
Well, fast forward to Friday. I went for a 10 mile run with a friend of mine, just an easy loop around town lake. A mile from the finish I had to pull up and walk it in because my knee hurt. It's a new pain, I'm not sure what to make of it. It hurts all the time, not just when I'm running. It's not a sharp pain, its a dull nagging discomfort. It feels kind of swollen, but it doesn't look swollen. And it cracks when I walk. It can't be good going into a 100M run.
So, I'm taking it easy (read: not running at all). I'll probably do very little running before Tahoe. My thoughts are that I could screw something up running on it, while not running will have very little short term impact on my goal, which is to run well at Tahoe and to finish.
There was one other notable experience this long 4th of July weekend. I took Micah running in his baby stroller on Thursday. He's been on lots of walks, but that was his first run. It was his 5 month birthday. It was surprisingly tough to run even small hills while pushing a stroller, especially since you can't really use your arms at all.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Taper and Recovery
My taper for Tahoe officially started on Monday. I made it a real easy day, running about 5 miles after work with some co-workers. I usually push the pace and show them shortcuts so I can go a little faster, but this time I took it slow. Very slow. Tuesday was completely off, and I'm amazed at how tired my body was. I hadn't realized how tired I was until now, as I feel my body recovering and my energy coming back.
Today I did a short treadmill run at lunch, and a light core workout. Looking forward, I'm going to make this a real easy week and just continue my focus on recovery. I have just over 2 weeks before Tahoe and I've got butterflies already.
Today I did a short treadmill run at lunch, and a light core workout. Looking forward, I'm going to make this a real easy week and just continue my focus on recovery. I have just over 2 weeks before Tahoe and I've got butterflies already.
Monday, June 30, 2008
When Life Interferes with Blogging
It’s been a long time since I wrote to this blog. After my last post I purposely took some time off. Soon after that I decided that I would not be writing to it anymore. I’m not sure why I made that decision, but it was OK with me. I just had no interest in it anymore. Now, 16 months later, I am once again motivated to write. So for now I’ll write…
I’ll start off by summarizing the last 16 months. Shortly after I quit writing, I ran and finished the Bighorn 100M trail race. It was like nothing I’ve ever done, one of the most excruciating and exhilarating experiences of my life. It’s been too long to try to write the details now, so I won’t even try. I suffered like never before, destroyed my feet ,and took over 3 months for my blisters to heal. I have pictures of my feet after the race, but they are inappropriate for public viewing.
After the run, Kara and I went to Yellowstone for a vacation of camping and hiking. Our trip did not work out as planned because I could not walk, let along hike, but we had a great time nevertheless. After all, we weren’t just celebrating the end of a long training schedule and a successful race, we were also celebrating our new child on the way. Kara was 8 weeks pregnant at the time of the race.
In February, our first kid was born. His name is Micah and I never knew how deeply I could care about someone or something until I met him. It put my priorities into perspective, but not in the simplistic way you might think. Before he was born, I would have guessed that any priority changes would have been working less, running less, and spending more time with my family. Well, that’s only kind of how it has worked out. Micah is 5 months old now, and I’m still figuring things out. But one thing I’ve noticed is that having him hasn’t forced me to push any priorities down. It just made me squeeze in something at the top. I have to be more efficient with my time, I have to make sure no time is wasted, but I don’t have to drop anything that is important to me. My runs now are less consistent, they are straight to the point and back home, they are sometimes run through the night while Micah and Kara sleep, or they are at times while he is taking a nap. But I’ve been able to run just as much and still have time with my family. I’ve had to remove some weekday runs, and supplement them with longer weekend runs, but it’s a small sacrifice.
So now that everyone is up to date on my life, I can talk about where I am now. I just finished my heavy training for the Tahoe Rim Trail 100M race which is in 3 weeks. As of today I’m tapering. I’ll do a few more tough runs, but nothing long. My legs are completely trashed. It’s taken awhile to realize it, but yesterday it became abundantly clear that I’m physically exhausted. I’m not recovering quickly, and I’m getting slow. Both are signs of overtraining for me. The good news is that I avoided injury, and I have plenty of time to really recover and to be strong for the race. Now I’m going to focus on my nutrition and my mental strength, which are the only two things standing in my way from a successful run at Tahoe.
One more thing I want to mention before I go. Over the past 6 months, I have taken terrible care of my body. While I exercise plenty, my nutrition and other habits have been terrible. I eat bad, I drink bad, I haven't cross-trained, I haven't stretched, I haven't recovered... I've done everything wrong and undisciplined, and if I wasn't blessed with a naturally healthy body I'd be 220lbs, slow, and injured. About a week ago I decided to change that. I want to document this change in writing so I'm not tempted to regress.
Until next time…
I’ll start off by summarizing the last 16 months. Shortly after I quit writing, I ran and finished the Bighorn 100M trail race. It was like nothing I’ve ever done, one of the most excruciating and exhilarating experiences of my life. It’s been too long to try to write the details now, so I won’t even try. I suffered like never before, destroyed my feet ,and took over 3 months for my blisters to heal. I have pictures of my feet after the race, but they are inappropriate for public viewing.
After the run, Kara and I went to Yellowstone for a vacation of camping and hiking. Our trip did not work out as planned because I could not walk, let along hike, but we had a great time nevertheless. After all, we weren’t just celebrating the end of a long training schedule and a successful race, we were also celebrating our new child on the way. Kara was 8 weeks pregnant at the time of the race.
In February, our first kid was born. His name is Micah and I never knew how deeply I could care about someone or something until I met him. It put my priorities into perspective, but not in the simplistic way you might think. Before he was born, I would have guessed that any priority changes would have been working less, running less, and spending more time with my family. Well, that’s only kind of how it has worked out. Micah is 5 months old now, and I’m still figuring things out. But one thing I’ve noticed is that having him hasn’t forced me to push any priorities down. It just made me squeeze in something at the top. I have to be more efficient with my time, I have to make sure no time is wasted, but I don’t have to drop anything that is important to me. My runs now are less consistent, they are straight to the point and back home, they are sometimes run through the night while Micah and Kara sleep, or they are at times while he is taking a nap. But I’ve been able to run just as much and still have time with my family. I’ve had to remove some weekday runs, and supplement them with longer weekend runs, but it’s a small sacrifice.
So now that everyone is up to date on my life, I can talk about where I am now. I just finished my heavy training for the Tahoe Rim Trail 100M race which is in 3 weeks. As of today I’m tapering. I’ll do a few more tough runs, but nothing long. My legs are completely trashed. It’s taken awhile to realize it, but yesterday it became abundantly clear that I’m physically exhausted. I’m not recovering quickly, and I’m getting slow. Both are signs of overtraining for me. The good news is that I avoided injury, and I have plenty of time to really recover and to be strong for the race. Now I’m going to focus on my nutrition and my mental strength, which are the only two things standing in my way from a successful run at Tahoe.
One more thing I want to mention before I go. Over the past 6 months, I have taken terrible care of my body. While I exercise plenty, my nutrition and other habits have been terrible. I eat bad, I drink bad, I haven't cross-trained, I haven't stretched, I haven't recovered... I've done everything wrong and undisciplined, and if I wasn't blessed with a naturally healthy body I'd be 220lbs, slow, and injured. About a week ago I decided to change that. I want to document this change in writing so I'm not tempted to regress.
Until next time…
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
BigHorn Training Continued...
I went out and did 25 on Saturday morning, my longest run since Sunmart. It felt a lot better than the 20 I did the previous week, I think I just needed to shock my body back into the long-distance running state. I did a long out and back at the greenbelt with my camelback. I hate wearing it, but figured I might as well start getting used to it now.
On another note, I need to start something new for xtraining, at least until the days get longer so I can start mountain biking again. I think I'll try swimming again. Every time I try it I do it for about 2 weeks and decide it's just not my sport, but I'll give it another go starting today.
On another note, I need to start something new for xtraining, at least until the days get longer so I can start mountain biking again. I think I'll try swimming again. Every time I try it I do it for about 2 weeks and decide it's just not my sport, but I'll give it another go starting today.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Big Horn
I officially started my training today for the Big Horn 100M trail race. I've been taking it easy for the past 2 months, still running but keeping the runs short. About 15 miles into today's run I started wandering what I just got myself into.
My legs still feel OK, but my endurance is not the same as it was. I think I can get it back pretty fast, but climbing back up the Hill Of Life today after a 20 miler it was all I could do to just get to the top of the hill.
Tomorrow I'll do 10 for my first back-to-back in awhile... I'm a little nervous about big horn, but I'm excited to get back into it. I've already registered, so there's no backing out now. I have exactly 125 days to get ready.
My legs still feel OK, but my endurance is not the same as it was. I think I can get it back pretty fast, but climbing back up the Hill Of Life today after a 20 miler it was all I could do to just get to the top of the hill.
Tomorrow I'll do 10 for my first back-to-back in awhile... I'm a little nervous about big horn, but I'm excited to get back into it. I've already registered, so there's no backing out now. I have exactly 125 days to get ready.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Sunmart 2006
I ran an absolutely asinine race, but had a great time doing it. Don't look for me in the race results, because I won't be there. Here's the long story:
A month ago I went to Bandera and ran more than I usually do, and sure enough I started having IT band problems. I took nearly the entire month off leading up to Sunmart, and stretched my legs everyday. Thursday before Sunmart I decided to run 8-10 miles, and if that felt ok, then I would run 50 miles at Sunmart. After all, I had already paid. If my knee was still hurting, then I would take Sunmart off and hope for a speedy ramp up for Bandera. That Thursday, I ran 4 miles and had to stop because my knee hurt too much. Sunmart was out for me, but I would be going anyways to cheer on my wife, Kara, who was running her first 50K.
We got out to Houston on Friday for packet pickup, and I was so frustrated. Picking up packets was like pouring salt in my wounds. I didn't want to pick anything up since I wasn't running. But Kara talked me into picking up the bag and a few of the goodies. I told her that I would not use them since I wasn't running, but if she wanted 2 of something I would give it to her since I paid for the race anyways. I picked up my number because I thought that maybe I would run a loop or half a loop, and if I had a number on then no one would have a problem with it. I did not pick up a timing chip, because I had no real intentions of running. And I knew if I started the run with a timing chip, it would encourage me to do something stupid like trying to finish the race with an injury.
On the way to Hunstville that evening I decided I would run one loop. Even if I had to walk half of it, I might as well finish a loop (12.5 miles).
The next morning I lined up at the start and started running at 7am. Kara was there, but her 50K didn't start until 7:30. When I was about 6 miles into the run my knee was hurting, so I ran a little faster to get it over with. I was running about a 9 minute pace at that point, which for 12.5 miles is pretty comfortable, but completely stupid if I had any intentions of running 50 miles. Fortunately I had no intentions of running 50 miles that day. As I approached 10 miles, my knee wasn't any worse, so I decided that maybe I should run a second loop. I was hoping to see Kara before I finished the loop, so I could let her know. She would be expecting me at the aid station since I was only running one loop. If she didn't see me, she might get worried. Fortunately I saw her, and told her I would keep running.
By the beginning of the second loop, my legs were burning. No wonder, not only had I not planned on running, but on Thursday, after I decided that I would not run Sunmart, I went to the gym and did a pretty heavy leg workout. On top of this I was running without any Gu's, gels, electrolytes, or anything else. So I was running too fast on weak legs, and a mind made up that I would not run the full 50. A few miles into the second loop I passed Joe P. He said, "I thought you were just going to do one loop?" I responded, "Well, my knee's not getting any worse, so I figured I might as well run until I can't." He laughed and said he knew what that meant... Crap! I was starting to think he was right, I was probably going to try to finish the race.
I caught Kara and her friend Christine soon after that. Kara told me I was a dumbass and that I should have at least worn a timing chip. It didn't really matter, I was just happy to be out there. Getting "credit" for the run didn't really matter to me.
Around the end of the second loop I knew I was committed. I also knew I was about to seriously slow down. I was still under an 8 hour pace and my legs were sludge. But my knee felt OK! Then I started laughing out loud. I was thinking of a conversation that I had with my friend Jim earlier that week. He was having knee problems too and was talking to Joe about it. I wasn't there but here's how it was told to me. It just sounded like two stoners sitting around their dorm rooms:
Joe: How's you knee feelin'?
Jim: Not much better. It still hurts everytime I run.
Joe: You know what you need, man? Maybe you need to just keep runnin'. Maybe it's somethin' you just need to knock loose, and like, once you do that you'll be fine.
Jim: Yeah, sure Joe. maybe...
Not exactly sound medical advice, but I know I'll take advice from a runner sooner than a doctor. Anyways, this advice we had laughed at earlier that week seemed to be dead on for me. So I just kept running. The truth is, it hurt a lot. But as much as it hurt, it never seemed bad enough to stop. I don't know how bad it would have to be, which scares me a little.
The rest of the run is not that interesting. It hurt a lot, a bunch of people passed me, and I stumbled on to finish. Last year I remembered drinking a coke at the very last aid station, and it was so freaking good. When I got to the last aid station I asked for a coke but they were all out. It was sad, was I going so slow that they ran out of refreshments???
I continued on, and I was so happy to see the HCTR crew at the finish line, and Kara with her finishers jacket. I stopped for a second to tell her congratulations, then ran on to the finish line. I had to explain to the people working there that I did not have a timing chip to give them, and they looked at me funny but gave me my jacket anyways.
I've now run several 50 mile runs, but it never gets old. Each one is a challenge, and each has it's own set of rewards. But I think this time I was happier at Kara's accomplishment that my own. We enjoyed a nice Sunmart post-race meal and I had the luxury of driving home that night. We slept very well that night.
A month ago I went to Bandera and ran more than I usually do, and sure enough I started having IT band problems. I took nearly the entire month off leading up to Sunmart, and stretched my legs everyday. Thursday before Sunmart I decided to run 8-10 miles, and if that felt ok, then I would run 50 miles at Sunmart. After all, I had already paid. If my knee was still hurting, then I would take Sunmart off and hope for a speedy ramp up for Bandera. That Thursday, I ran 4 miles and had to stop because my knee hurt too much. Sunmart was out for me, but I would be going anyways to cheer on my wife, Kara, who was running her first 50K.
We got out to Houston on Friday for packet pickup, and I was so frustrated. Picking up packets was like pouring salt in my wounds. I didn't want to pick anything up since I wasn't running. But Kara talked me into picking up the bag and a few of the goodies. I told her that I would not use them since I wasn't running, but if she wanted 2 of something I would give it to her since I paid for the race anyways. I picked up my number because I thought that maybe I would run a loop or half a loop, and if I had a number on then no one would have a problem with it. I did not pick up a timing chip, because I had no real intentions of running. And I knew if I started the run with a timing chip, it would encourage me to do something stupid like trying to finish the race with an injury.
On the way to Hunstville that evening I decided I would run one loop. Even if I had to walk half of it, I might as well finish a loop (12.5 miles).
The next morning I lined up at the start and started running at 7am. Kara was there, but her 50K didn't start until 7:30. When I was about 6 miles into the run my knee was hurting, so I ran a little faster to get it over with. I was running about a 9 minute pace at that point, which for 12.5 miles is pretty comfortable, but completely stupid if I had any intentions of running 50 miles. Fortunately I had no intentions of running 50 miles that day. As I approached 10 miles, my knee wasn't any worse, so I decided that maybe I should run a second loop. I was hoping to see Kara before I finished the loop, so I could let her know. She would be expecting me at the aid station since I was only running one loop. If she didn't see me, she might get worried. Fortunately I saw her, and told her I would keep running.
By the beginning of the second loop, my legs were burning. No wonder, not only had I not planned on running, but on Thursday, after I decided that I would not run Sunmart, I went to the gym and did a pretty heavy leg workout. On top of this I was running without any Gu's, gels, electrolytes, or anything else. So I was running too fast on weak legs, and a mind made up that I would not run the full 50. A few miles into the second loop I passed Joe P. He said, "I thought you were just going to do one loop?" I responded, "Well, my knee's not getting any worse, so I figured I might as well run until I can't." He laughed and said he knew what that meant... Crap! I was starting to think he was right, I was probably going to try to finish the race.
I caught Kara and her friend Christine soon after that. Kara told me I was a dumbass and that I should have at least worn a timing chip. It didn't really matter, I was just happy to be out there. Getting "credit" for the run didn't really matter to me.
Around the end of the second loop I knew I was committed. I also knew I was about to seriously slow down. I was still under an 8 hour pace and my legs were sludge. But my knee felt OK! Then I started laughing out loud. I was thinking of a conversation that I had with my friend Jim earlier that week. He was having knee problems too and was talking to Joe about it. I wasn't there but here's how it was told to me. It just sounded like two stoners sitting around their dorm rooms:
Joe: How's you knee feelin'?
Jim: Not much better. It still hurts everytime I run.
Joe: You know what you need, man? Maybe you need to just keep runnin'. Maybe it's somethin' you just need to knock loose, and like, once you do that you'll be fine.
Jim: Yeah, sure Joe. maybe...
Not exactly sound medical advice, but I know I'll take advice from a runner sooner than a doctor. Anyways, this advice we had laughed at earlier that week seemed to be dead on for me. So I just kept running. The truth is, it hurt a lot. But as much as it hurt, it never seemed bad enough to stop. I don't know how bad it would have to be, which scares me a little.
The rest of the run is not that interesting. It hurt a lot, a bunch of people passed me, and I stumbled on to finish. Last year I remembered drinking a coke at the very last aid station, and it was so freaking good. When I got to the last aid station I asked for a coke but they were all out. It was sad, was I going so slow that they ran out of refreshments???
I continued on, and I was so happy to see the HCTR crew at the finish line, and Kara with her finishers jacket. I stopped for a second to tell her congratulations, then ran on to the finish line. I had to explain to the people working there that I did not have a timing chip to give them, and they looked at me funny but gave me my jacket anyways.
I've now run several 50 mile runs, but it never gets old. Each one is a challenge, and each has it's own set of rewards. But I think this time I was happier at Kara's accomplishment that my own. We enjoyed a nice Sunmart post-race meal and I had the luxury of driving home that night. We slept very well that night.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Bandera II
I've been to Bandera several times now, but I only consider two of them as battles. The first was a draw, I finished the 50 miles I set out to do, but I could hardly call it a victory. I was happy to be alive in the end, and knew I'd be back for a rematch. Yesterday was the rematch.
For awhile now I've been planning on going out for the unoffical Cactus Rose 100M, where I would run less than 100M, but still get my rematch with the park. On Thursday morning, with work piling up and other things stressing me out, I decided not to go. Then, not more than 10 minutes later I got an email from Joe (the coordinator) asking if I'd be going. "Screw it" I told myself, my wife is out of town, its a long weekend, I might as well go. So I dropped my dog off at a friends house and drove out there Friday afternoon. Got there just before dark, set up my tent, and pretty much crashed, my run would start at 5am.
I set out to do 25 miles, with the intention that if I felt good I would continue on for more. It was not a formal event, and I could pretty much run whatever I wanted. Well, at 5am I felt great. At 11am I still felt pretty good having completed 25 miles. I had not brought any electrolytes, only 64 oz of gatorade, and a bunch of water. Only planning on 25 miles, I figured I could do iut with nothing but a watr bottle. My only food was some potato chips. Unfortunately I decided to go out for more, partially because I felt OK and partially because I was running with a guy who intended to do the full 100M and felt silly stopping at 25. Well, it was a stupid mistake. This was not a fully supported race, Joe did an awesome job setting it up with water and tents, but still we were on our own for food and supplements, and I had brought none. It was nearly 100 degrees, I had lost over 10 pounds in water weight, and I had nothing to consume. After 35 miles, I had almost decided to call it a day. It was more than I had intended to do, yet I kind of wanted to continue. The previous 5 miles had taken 2.5 hours. Yeah, thats right, I was barely walking, yet delirious enough to think I should continue. Later, I met a woman who apparently had seen me from a distance, and told me I didn't look so good. That might explain why, when I hit the 35 mile aid station, the guys at the aid station pretty much told me that I shouldn't go back out. I'll admit, I wasn't planning on going back out anyways, so there was no battle. I didn't feel bad about stopping, I only ever planned on 25 miles. But, with that said, I still have to say that Bandera won. The standings are now Bandera 1, TJ 0, with one draw. I'll be back in the fall, without the hot weather, for another rematch. Then, in January, I'll run the official 100K, where I plan to kick Bandera's ass.
For awhile now I've been planning on going out for the unoffical Cactus Rose 100M, where I would run less than 100M, but still get my rematch with the park. On Thursday morning, with work piling up and other things stressing me out, I decided not to go. Then, not more than 10 minutes later I got an email from Joe (the coordinator) asking if I'd be going. "Screw it" I told myself, my wife is out of town, its a long weekend, I might as well go. So I dropped my dog off at a friends house and drove out there Friday afternoon. Got there just before dark, set up my tent, and pretty much crashed, my run would start at 5am.
I set out to do 25 miles, with the intention that if I felt good I would continue on for more. It was not a formal event, and I could pretty much run whatever I wanted. Well, at 5am I felt great. At 11am I still felt pretty good having completed 25 miles. I had not brought any electrolytes, only 64 oz of gatorade, and a bunch of water. Only planning on 25 miles, I figured I could do iut with nothing but a watr bottle. My only food was some potato chips. Unfortunately I decided to go out for more, partially because I felt OK and partially because I was running with a guy who intended to do the full 100M and felt silly stopping at 25. Well, it was a stupid mistake. This was not a fully supported race, Joe did an awesome job setting it up with water and tents, but still we were on our own for food and supplements, and I had brought none. It was nearly 100 degrees, I had lost over 10 pounds in water weight, and I had nothing to consume. After 35 miles, I had almost decided to call it a day. It was more than I had intended to do, yet I kind of wanted to continue. The previous 5 miles had taken 2.5 hours. Yeah, thats right, I was barely walking, yet delirious enough to think I should continue. Later, I met a woman who apparently had seen me from a distance, and told me I didn't look so good. That might explain why, when I hit the 35 mile aid station, the guys at the aid station pretty much told me that I shouldn't go back out. I'll admit, I wasn't planning on going back out anyways, so there was no battle. I didn't feel bad about stopping, I only ever planned on 25 miles. But, with that said, I still have to say that Bandera won. The standings are now Bandera 1, TJ 0, with one draw. I'll be back in the fall, without the hot weather, for another rematch. Then, in January, I'll run the official 100K, where I plan to kick Bandera's ass.
Pike's Peak Nonreport
I apologize to my few loyal readers, but I have been too busy to write about Pike's Peak, and I wasn't really sure what to write anyways. I don't have a report to share. Here's the short story.
Colorado Springs and Manitou Springs are very cool towns, places I wouldn't mind living some day. There are some seriously good athletes out there, and the mountains are beautiful. But, I have to say, the race itself was a little anti-climactic. I was expecting struggle, pain, nausea, etc. Instead, I had a very easy race. Upon everyone's advice, I took the base of the mountain very conservatively. As I got higher and higher, I felt relaxed and strong and passed people the entire way up. At the top I saw my wife and friend, and they gave me some donuts, which I had requested in advance. I was way ahead of people I am never in front of. I also saw JT near the toip who went on to finish around 50th place I think. I'm expecting a top 20 finish next year, unless he's running Leadville 100 that weekend instead.
The run downhill went very quickly (~2 hours) and then it was over. I've been training for this race by running 12+ hour runs in extreme heat, and this race was over in under 6 hours without a hitch. I guess I just found it a little anti-climactic. That is not to take anything away from the race, it was fun and I was glad I did it. I think I just enjoy longer distances more than anything.
I'm thinking of going back up to CO and/or NM this fall. I have some vacation time and it seems like a fun roadtrip to drive up there and run some of the tough courses out there. We'll see.
Colorado Springs and Manitou Springs are very cool towns, places I wouldn't mind living some day. There are some seriously good athletes out there, and the mountains are beautiful. But, I have to say, the race itself was a little anti-climactic. I was expecting struggle, pain, nausea, etc. Instead, I had a very easy race. Upon everyone's advice, I took the base of the mountain very conservatively. As I got higher and higher, I felt relaxed and strong and passed people the entire way up. At the top I saw my wife and friend, and they gave me some donuts, which I had requested in advance. I was way ahead of people I am never in front of. I also saw JT near the toip who went on to finish around 50th place I think. I'm expecting a top 20 finish next year, unless he's running Leadville 100 that weekend instead.
The run downhill went very quickly (~2 hours) and then it was over. I've been training for this race by running 12+ hour runs in extreme heat, and this race was over in under 6 hours without a hitch. I guess I just found it a little anti-climactic. That is not to take anything away from the race, it was fun and I was glad I did it. I think I just enjoy longer distances more than anything.
I'm thinking of going back up to CO and/or NM this fall. I have some vacation time and it seems like a fun roadtrip to drive up there and run some of the tough courses out there. We'll see.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Finding My Groove
I finally had a good run this morning. I met the Rogue group at the Hill of Life this morning for an "easy" hour of running. Most of them just got back from a trip out to colorado for the Barr Mountain Trail Race, while I was back here at 100 ft elevation running flatlander style. It was recovery for the BMTR runners, and since we are all heading out to Bandera next weekend for some long runs, just taking it easy.
I started off easy, but about 10 minutes into the run I felt good. Really good. It was something I haven't felt in weeks, so I started picking up the pace. It felt so good to be running fast on single track trails, hitting sharp turns, leaping rocks and roots, like I had been doing a month ago. I felt really alive. That feeling is exactly what I love about trail running, and so I took advantage of it. It's the feeling that all of us trail runners seek, the thing we can't describe to our friends and coworkers no matter how hard we try.
I finished the loop in one hour, and stopped with the group. I was tempted to head back out for another hour or two, but knew it was best to stop. I have 40 miles planned for next weekend on some tough Bandera, TX terrain, no sense in wasting it all now. For the first time in awhile, I can't wait to get back out there.
I started off easy, but about 10 minutes into the run I felt good. Really good. It was something I haven't felt in weeks, so I started picking up the pace. It felt so good to be running fast on single track trails, hitting sharp turns, leaping rocks and roots, like I had been doing a month ago. I felt really alive. That feeling is exactly what I love about trail running, and so I took advantage of it. It's the feeling that all of us trail runners seek, the thing we can't describe to our friends and coworkers no matter how hard we try.
I finished the loop in one hour, and stopped with the group. I was tempted to head back out for another hour or two, but knew it was best to stop. I have 40 miles planned for next weekend on some tough Bandera, TX terrain, no sense in wasting it all now. For the first time in awhile, I can't wait to get back out there.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
The Death Run
It's been two weeks since my run out at Inks Lake, where I had a fabulous run and felt great doing it. I was on top of my running world, but since then it's all come crashing down. I've run about 5 times since then, each time feeling worse and worse. Maybe I need some time off, maybe its the 100+ temperatures, or maybe it's mental. Or maybe it's a combination of these things.
This morning I decided to head out for a tough hilly run, to see if I could break out of my funk. I ran Melissa's Davenport Death run. I figured it must be tough if Melissa ran on it. Besides it shares hills with another common running route called "The Inferno" and "The Run From Hell." Words like "death," "inferno," and "hell" sound like too much fun not to do, and I knew I had to push myself through it, or I'd just keep going on with these crappy runs.
The first mile was easy, some tough hills on Austin's scale, but nothing too bad. I picked up the pace for the next 2 miles and the hills got tougher. By 30 minutes in, I was spent. Here we go again, I thought. I slowed down, but not much, and I tried to focus on getting up the hills comfortably and recovering on the downhills. By 60 minutes in, I was good to go. If that wasn't a fluke, then I'd say I'm back to my old self. I sure hope so, Pike's Peak is coming up in less than a month.
I'll be heading out to Bandera next weekend for some more good running. I can't wait to get there, last time was the toughest run I'd ever had, but I had a blast doing it. It's beautiful Texas Hill Country out there.
This morning I decided to head out for a tough hilly run, to see if I could break out of my funk. I ran Melissa's Davenport Death run. I figured it must be tough if Melissa ran on it. Besides it shares hills with another common running route called "The Inferno" and "The Run From Hell." Words like "death," "inferno," and "hell" sound like too much fun not to do, and I knew I had to push myself through it, or I'd just keep going on with these crappy runs.
The first mile was easy, some tough hills on Austin's scale, but nothing too bad. I picked up the pace for the next 2 miles and the hills got tougher. By 30 minutes in, I was spent. Here we go again, I thought. I slowed down, but not much, and I tried to focus on getting up the hills comfortably and recovering on the downhills. By 60 minutes in, I was good to go. If that wasn't a fluke, then I'd say I'm back to my old self. I sure hope so, Pike's Peak is coming up in less than a month.
I'll be heading out to Bandera next weekend for some more good running. I can't wait to get there, last time was the toughest run I'd ever had, but I had a blast doing it. It's beautiful Texas Hill Country out there.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Horrible Running Weekend
I had a terrible running weekend. I got up early on Saturday to meet Jim at the hill of life. About 30 seconds into the run, on the way down the hill, I turned my ankle again. The same one from last weekends run. It hurt, I limped for awhile, and kept going. I should have just turned around right there and ran on the roads.
20 minutes into the run, Jim and I are both exhausted, hot, thirsty, and miserable. He's going really slow because his legs are tired from 2 very tough weeks of running for him. I'm limping behind him because of my annoying ankle. Neither of us are doing much talking, except to complain about the run. Normally whining is not tolerated, but that day it was all we had.
Then came the horseflies. These huge pests were buzzing around us and followed us for miles. We tried everything, but couldn't shake them. At this point it was getting really hot, we were covered in sweat, our bodies exhausted, and now the mental angish of these stupid horseflies. At one point Jim turned to me and said, "this is just plain miserable." He was right.
I let all of this beat me down, and my ankle was killing me. Finally after an hour and a half of pretending to be a runner, I told Jim that I was finished. We had planned on 3 hours, but I couldn't do it. My ankle was not worse than last weekend, where I ran all night on the same injury. It made me realize how mental this whole business is. Last week, I succeeded because I never considered the alternative. This weekend, I was defeated from the beginning. Last weekend I shunned the pain, this time I welcomed it and used it as an excuse to stop. It's OK though, I was fine with stopping. There's no reason to mes up my ankle any worse.
This morning I got up at 5 to try to run on the roads for a few hours. My ankle stil hurt, so I decided not to even go out. Instead I sat around watching live updates at the hardrock 100, where my friend Joe was running. He finished, as I figured he would. This was his 6th finish at hardrock. I don't know much about the course, but he went 47 hours straight with no sleep to finish just before the cutoff, so I know it must be rough.
Tomorrow I'll try to run again. We'll see how it goes.
20 minutes into the run, Jim and I are both exhausted, hot, thirsty, and miserable. He's going really slow because his legs are tired from 2 very tough weeks of running for him. I'm limping behind him because of my annoying ankle. Neither of us are doing much talking, except to complain about the run. Normally whining is not tolerated, but that day it was all we had.
Then came the horseflies. These huge pests were buzzing around us and followed us for miles. We tried everything, but couldn't shake them. At this point it was getting really hot, we were covered in sweat, our bodies exhausted, and now the mental angish of these stupid horseflies. At one point Jim turned to me and said, "this is just plain miserable." He was right.
I let all of this beat me down, and my ankle was killing me. Finally after an hour and a half of pretending to be a runner, I told Jim that I was finished. We had planned on 3 hours, but I couldn't do it. My ankle was not worse than last weekend, where I ran all night on the same injury. It made me realize how mental this whole business is. Last week, I succeeded because I never considered the alternative. This weekend, I was defeated from the beginning. Last weekend I shunned the pain, this time I welcomed it and used it as an excuse to stop. It's OK though, I was fine with stopping. There's no reason to mes up my ankle any worse.
This morning I got up at 5 to try to run on the roads for a few hours. My ankle stil hurt, so I decided not to even go out. Instead I sat around watching live updates at the hardrock 100, where my friend Joe was running. He finished, as I figured he would. This was his 6th finish at hardrock. I don't know much about the course, but he went 47 hours straight with no sleep to finish just before the cutoff, so I know it must be rough.
Tomorrow I'll try to run again. We'll see how it goes.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Night Running Theme Song
Listening to my iPod on shuffle last night, an oldie but goodie came on. It's the perfect theme song for last weekends all night run.
little voice says I'm going crazy
to see all my worlds disappear
vague sketch of a fantasy
laughing at the sunrise
like he's been up all night
ooo slippin and slidin
what a good time but now
I have have to find a bed
that can take this wait
good feeing
won't you say stay with me just a little longer
it always seems like your leaving
when I know the other one
just a little too well
-Violent Femmes
little voice says I'm going crazy
to see all my worlds disappear
vague sketch of a fantasy
laughing at the sunrise
like he's been up all night
ooo slippin and slidin
what a good time but now
I have have to find a bed
that can take this wait
good feeing
won't you say stay with me just a little longer
it always seems like your leaving
when I know the other one
just a little too well
-Violent Femmes
Monday, July 10, 2006
Capt'n Karls Report
I wasn't sure how to write up this race report, as it was not like any other experience I've had on the trails. It was a test of my resolve, my character, and a true showing of my friendships, and had very little to do with my fitness or strength. The results might be shown by my time, distance, or rank at the finish, but the real results were the things I learned during the run, and the knowledge I walked away with at the end.
The event started with a little pre-race speech by Brad and his wife Nyla, the RD couple. The talk was as much about the purpose of the race, raising money for the American Cancer Society, and it was about the run. Brad and Nyla really believed in the cause of this event, and that was cool to see. The inaugeral Capt'n Karl's All Nighter began shortly after this, by none other than Karl, who the race was named after.
I'm not going to write the normal race report. During the race there were 4 things that stuck out to me and they trump anything else that occured during this long night.
1. Jim, Kara, and I drove out to Inks lake in the early afternoon. On the way out there, Jim was talking about hopefully getting in 25 miles in his 6 hour event. I told him that he should be excited, because he was about to run his longest run ever that night. Since he's run a marathon, I was basically telling him that he would exceed his goal of 25 miles. We had agreed to run the first 6 hours together, then I would run the second half alone. At 11:15pm, we realized that we would have to step up the pace to get into the aid station by 12:30. This was the cutoff for the 6 hour guys. If we left the aid station before this, then he was allowed to go back out and get another "official" loop in. This would put him at 30 miles. But it would not be easy, as we hadn't run a loop in under 1:15 in quite awhile, and we had been slowing down. But Jim stepped it up, we pushed the pace the first half of the loop, and the second half he left me. He ran like a crazy man and got back into the aid station at 12:23, just quick enough to head back out. It would have been easy for him to take it easy, finish just after 12:30 and have a good reason to call it a night. A successful night at that, but he wasn't satisfied. He pushed himself, and he was rewarded with his first ultra marathon. He did the 30, plus a one mile loop at the beginning when we were lost, for an unofficial 31 miles, or 50K. Jim is a strong runner, and a great friend, I was happy to be a part of his first ultra. I'm lucky to have a friend like him.
2. Kara, my wife, had come out with us and volunteered at the aid station from 7pm to 1am. This race wouldn't have been the same without her there. I couldn't believe how dependent I was on knowing that she would be there when I got there. At one point, I came in after only 10 miles feeling weak and nautious. I hadn't felt this poor in the early stages of a run before. She told me, "It'll get better, it has to." She said it twice. They were the perfect words for the moment, they helped me get through that first low point that I had, and echoed in my mind the rest of the night. I'm a lucky guy to have her.
3. At mile 28, I sprained my ankle very badly. I screamed like a madman when it happened, and limped for 2 miles back to the aid station. All I could think about was how I had such a long night ahead of me. I still had over 5 hours, and I knew that quitting was not an option. It took Jim and me about an hour to walk that 2 miles. Jim was finishing his run at this point, and could have easily left me to get a better time on his first ultra. But I don't think that ever entered his mind, even when I told him to go on. I was in no danger, and I certainly wasn't pleasant company. When we finished, Jim told me not to do anything stupid, as I hobbled back out onto the course alone. I knew that I would do many stupid things out there, but isn't that the foundation of ultra running? I dug in deep over the next mile or two, working hard to ignore the pain I felt and began running slowly on the smooth parts (which were rare). "It'll get better, it has to," I reminded myself. Adrenaline, endorphins, and the grace of God finally got me running again about 2 miles into that 7th loop. This was a new test of resolve that I had to conquer, and I did.
4. The fourth lesson is the hardest to explain. But I'll try. When I finally started running again on the 8th loop, I passed a few people. Some of them were walking, and I was actually lapping them. Others, I was passing for the first time. When I got to the aid station, I was told that I was now in first place. I can't describe how little this meant to me. Now that I was running again, all I wanted to do was keep running. If I could do that, then this night would be a success. I had battled through some low points, I had been carried by friends, family, and fellow runners, and that was all that mattered. I continued to run as hard as I could for the next 3 hours, and finally finished my last loop, 50 miles, in 11:50. I had won the race. My wife had just woken up, and came over to me. "I think you won," she said. I smiled and said that I did. Surprisingly, it wasn't that exciting to me. I often say that when I race, I'm racing myself, and this was proof to myself that I wasn't just sayinig this for dramatic effect, I really meant it. I had exceeded my expectations on that night, and how I stacked up against the other runners wasn't important. Kara was proud of me, and she called everyone that night to tell them about the night. I think I was happier about her pride than the race itself.
My overall opinion of the race was that it was a huge success. About 25 people were out there for the inaugeral event, most of them doing the 12 hours. It was a great idea for a race, and if it continues, I'm sure it will grow. The fellow runners were great company, as any HCTR get together seems to be. While the execution can get better, and I'm sure it will, it went really well. The volunteers were good and the food was good. The post race breakfast was awesome. I can't wait until next year.
The event started with a little pre-race speech by Brad and his wife Nyla, the RD couple. The talk was as much about the purpose of the race, raising money for the American Cancer Society, and it was about the run. Brad and Nyla really believed in the cause of this event, and that was cool to see. The inaugeral Capt'n Karl's All Nighter began shortly after this, by none other than Karl, who the race was named after.
I'm not going to write the normal race report. During the race there were 4 things that stuck out to me and they trump anything else that occured during this long night.
1. Jim, Kara, and I drove out to Inks lake in the early afternoon. On the way out there, Jim was talking about hopefully getting in 25 miles in his 6 hour event. I told him that he should be excited, because he was about to run his longest run ever that night. Since he's run a marathon, I was basically telling him that he would exceed his goal of 25 miles. We had agreed to run the first 6 hours together, then I would run the second half alone. At 11:15pm, we realized that we would have to step up the pace to get into the aid station by 12:30. This was the cutoff for the 6 hour guys. If we left the aid station before this, then he was allowed to go back out and get another "official" loop in. This would put him at 30 miles. But it would not be easy, as we hadn't run a loop in under 1:15 in quite awhile, and we had been slowing down. But Jim stepped it up, we pushed the pace the first half of the loop, and the second half he left me. He ran like a crazy man and got back into the aid station at 12:23, just quick enough to head back out. It would have been easy for him to take it easy, finish just after 12:30 and have a good reason to call it a night. A successful night at that, but he wasn't satisfied. He pushed himself, and he was rewarded with his first ultra marathon. He did the 30, plus a one mile loop at the beginning when we were lost, for an unofficial 31 miles, or 50K. Jim is a strong runner, and a great friend, I was happy to be a part of his first ultra. I'm lucky to have a friend like him.
2. Kara, my wife, had come out with us and volunteered at the aid station from 7pm to 1am. This race wouldn't have been the same without her there. I couldn't believe how dependent I was on knowing that she would be there when I got there. At one point, I came in after only 10 miles feeling weak and nautious. I hadn't felt this poor in the early stages of a run before. She told me, "It'll get better, it has to." She said it twice. They were the perfect words for the moment, they helped me get through that first low point that I had, and echoed in my mind the rest of the night. I'm a lucky guy to have her.
3. At mile 28, I sprained my ankle very badly. I screamed like a madman when it happened, and limped for 2 miles back to the aid station. All I could think about was how I had such a long night ahead of me. I still had over 5 hours, and I knew that quitting was not an option. It took Jim and me about an hour to walk that 2 miles. Jim was finishing his run at this point, and could have easily left me to get a better time on his first ultra. But I don't think that ever entered his mind, even when I told him to go on. I was in no danger, and I certainly wasn't pleasant company. When we finished, Jim told me not to do anything stupid, as I hobbled back out onto the course alone. I knew that I would do many stupid things out there, but isn't that the foundation of ultra running? I dug in deep over the next mile or two, working hard to ignore the pain I felt and began running slowly on the smooth parts (which were rare). "It'll get better, it has to," I reminded myself. Adrenaline, endorphins, and the grace of God finally got me running again about 2 miles into that 7th loop. This was a new test of resolve that I had to conquer, and I did.
4. The fourth lesson is the hardest to explain. But I'll try. When I finally started running again on the 8th loop, I passed a few people. Some of them were walking, and I was actually lapping them. Others, I was passing for the first time. When I got to the aid station, I was told that I was now in first place. I can't describe how little this meant to me. Now that I was running again, all I wanted to do was keep running. If I could do that, then this night would be a success. I had battled through some low points, I had been carried by friends, family, and fellow runners, and that was all that mattered. I continued to run as hard as I could for the next 3 hours, and finally finished my last loop, 50 miles, in 11:50. I had won the race. My wife had just woken up, and came over to me. "I think you won," she said. I smiled and said that I did. Surprisingly, it wasn't that exciting to me. I often say that when I race, I'm racing myself, and this was proof to myself that I wasn't just sayinig this for dramatic effect, I really meant it. I had exceeded my expectations on that night, and how I stacked up against the other runners wasn't important. Kara was proud of me, and she called everyone that night to tell them about the night. I think I was happier about her pride than the race itself.
My overall opinion of the race was that it was a huge success. About 25 people were out there for the inaugeral event, most of them doing the 12 hours. It was a great idea for a race, and if it continues, I'm sure it will grow. The fellow runners were great company, as any HCTR get together seems to be. While the execution can get better, and I'm sure it will, it went really well. The volunteers were good and the food was good. The post race breakfast was awesome. I can't wait until next year.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
A Marathon Relay
I ran a marathon relay this morning. The race is something I've been anxious to have over with for quite awhile. As the token runner of my group at work, I took the responsibility last year to get a group of my colleagues together. Many of them were either running their first race, or their longest at 5-10K. It was a pain getting it all organized, as it seemed like everyone had to be dragged out there, even though I knew they would enjoy it once they got out there.
The race was over in such a short time. I was running the first leg, which was a 12K. I haven't raced a distance this short in a long time, almost 2 years. I'm not trying to sound facetious by calling it short, but honestly, it is a different kind of race when it's only going to take an hour. I wasn't sure how to pace myself, but I did want to go out hard and try to maintain a quick pace, not knowing whether I could hold it for 7.5 miles. In the long trail runs, you can start slow, and really feel it out and adjust your pace accordingly. Here, I felt like I was just going hard, and hoping it would last.
As it turns out, it almost lasted. I kept a hard pace (for me, anyways) for the first 7 miles. With about .5 miles to go, I was spent. But with a half mile to go, and at that pace, I kept telling myself that it was only 3 more minutes, then 2 more minutes, then 1 and the finish line was in sight. I know I slowed down a little, but I kept the pace up enough to finish strong. Ended up finishing at about 56:30, which was 4 seconds per mile faster than my 10K PR.
I was surprised to say the least. While I've been running consistently for the past 2 years, I never thought I could race that distance faster than I did 2 years ago, when I was more focused on the 10K distance. I even have to admit that I enjoyed running fast. That's not to say I'll make a habit of it, I'm sticking with the trails for now.
I handed off to my partner for the next leg, who happened to be my wife. She also PR'd. She has been gunning for a 10 minute pace on a 10K for awhile, and she almost got it this time. She finished in about 63 minutes. She'll get there soon.
It was weird at the finish line. I'm used to a small crowd, where I know most of the people. I'm used to eating lunch (or dinner) at the end of the race. Here, there were hundreds of people that I didn't know, and donuts to eat. The donuts were good, but nothing like an ice cold Coke and a cheesburger.
The race was over in such a short time. I was running the first leg, which was a 12K. I haven't raced a distance this short in a long time, almost 2 years. I'm not trying to sound facetious by calling it short, but honestly, it is a different kind of race when it's only going to take an hour. I wasn't sure how to pace myself, but I did want to go out hard and try to maintain a quick pace, not knowing whether I could hold it for 7.5 miles. In the long trail runs, you can start slow, and really feel it out and adjust your pace accordingly. Here, I felt like I was just going hard, and hoping it would last.
As it turns out, it almost lasted. I kept a hard pace (for me, anyways) for the first 7 miles. With about .5 miles to go, I was spent. But with a half mile to go, and at that pace, I kept telling myself that it was only 3 more minutes, then 2 more minutes, then 1 and the finish line was in sight. I know I slowed down a little, but I kept the pace up enough to finish strong. Ended up finishing at about 56:30, which was 4 seconds per mile faster than my 10K PR.
I was surprised to say the least. While I've been running consistently for the past 2 years, I never thought I could race that distance faster than I did 2 years ago, when I was more focused on the 10K distance. I even have to admit that I enjoyed running fast. That's not to say I'll make a habit of it, I'm sticking with the trails for now.
I handed off to my partner for the next leg, who happened to be my wife. She also PR'd. She has been gunning for a 10 minute pace on a 10K for awhile, and she almost got it this time. She finished in about 63 minutes. She'll get there soon.
It was weird at the finish line. I'm used to a small crowd, where I know most of the people. I'm used to eating lunch (or dinner) at the end of the race. Here, there were hundreds of people that I didn't know, and donuts to eat. The donuts were good, but nothing like an ice cold Coke and a cheesburger.
Monday, July 03, 2006
A Very Short Run
I have a marathon relay tomorrow, on July 4th. I had to go downtown yesterday to pick up my teams packets, but I got there about 20 minutes early so I decided to run a quick out and back around Town Lake rather than just sitting around and waiting. Besides, I needed to shake out some cobwebs after Saturday's 3 hour run.
So when I took off, I decided I'd run it fast. I mean, really fast, relative to my normal pace. Of course my normal pace is ultra marathon pace, so that's not saying too much. Anyways, I took off at about a 7 minute pace, which I wasn't sure if I could maintain because I never try it. It felt good. Actually, it felt really great. It's been a long time since I ran swiftly like this, and it was refreshing.
I finished close to a 3 mile out and back in 20 minutes, picked up my packet soaking wet in sweat, and went home for a shower. I'm feeling pretty good today, and looking forward to a fast race tomorrow. I'm running a 12K leg of the relay, havent done a distance like that in a while, so we'll see how it goes. I'm running the race with co-workers who all think I'm a running freak, so I can't let them down.
So when I took off, I decided I'd run it fast. I mean, really fast, relative to my normal pace. Of course my normal pace is ultra marathon pace, so that's not saying too much. Anyways, I took off at about a 7 minute pace, which I wasn't sure if I could maintain because I never try it. It felt good. Actually, it felt really great. It's been a long time since I ran swiftly like this, and it was refreshing.
I finished close to a 3 mile out and back in 20 minutes, picked up my packet soaking wet in sweat, and went home for a shower. I'm feeling pretty good today, and looking forward to a fast race tomorrow. I'm running a 12K leg of the relay, havent done a distance like that in a while, so we'll see how it goes. I'm running the race with co-workers who all think I'm a running freak, so I can't let them down.
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