Why run?

Because of stuff like this:
Footfeathers: Hardrock 100: The Race Report
Truly freaking epic.  Not sure I've got the fortitude to complete that journey.  I certainly don't have the physical prowess - today - but that can be had with the right investment.  It's the mental toughness I'm not sure I've got.

That's most of the reason I'm attracted to ultrarunning in the first place.  Trying to find that breaking point.  Once I've committed money to a race I usually can train with a singular focus and by the time I get to the start line, it's not finishing that's in question, it's how quickly will I finish.

Run Rabbit Run was the first race where I lined up and didn't know if I would be able to finish.  I was fairly certain, and I trusted my training, but at the start I really had no idea what to expect.  There were times I felt like crap during that effort, but at no point did I consider stopping.  I've said this before, but as I crossed the finish line, I thought to myself:  I can keep going.

My most miserable experience in a race was the 2009 Boulder Marathon.  The race organizers were woefully under-prepared for the conditions on race day and there were multiple aid stations without water and/or Gatorade I considered quitting that race on several occasions, but somehow gutted it out to the finish.  I was pissed and swore I'd never run another race organized by those folks, but the next spring I ran in their half-mary.  Even though it wasn't a pleasant experience, I'm wearing the hat right now - that was my first marathon.

Anyway, racing and running for me aren't about Personal Records.  Many of mine were set when I was young and fit.  I'm never again going to crack 5 minutes in the mile, but I did it once in the opening leg of a 2 mile race when I was in high school.  I ran 3 minutes 30 seconds for a 1200 meter leg in a "distance medley" relay race that same year.  My PR in 5k is just under 17 minutes, I could probably get that if I wanted to suffer through the hideous 400 meter interval training, and I could probably pretty easily best my 10k PR of 41 minutes, but I really don't care about those numbers.

The point is:  I know that I can finish those distances.  I know the training needed to get better in those distances and I don't care to do it.  Intervals suck.  I like LSD.

Frankly, much of the reason I run is also similar to what Goeff noted in the video I posted a couple weeks ago:  I find it a tremendous way to get to know an area.  Once I run out of new terrain to run on, I start relying on the iPod more and more to make my runs more interesting.  That's when running becomes work.

I remember once when I was a kid hiking with my brother the dogs and my parents in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  I think it was Mount Chocorua. There was some long haired hippy dude ripping up and then back down the trail we were on.  He was like 5 or 10 minutes out in front of some much more dapper followers.  Those folks were having a good time.  My brother and I thought it looked pretty cool.  That was when I went for my first trail run - 27-28 years ago probably - the dogs, my brother with me, freaking perfect.

Ever since, I've been searching for that feeling again.  The closest I've come are in the trail races in Colorado:  Fruita, Imogene, Steamboat.  In those races, it's not so much how fast you finish, it's more the process.  There's a camaraderie that's really develops in the shared experience of suffering, that I've never really experienced elsewhere.

Anyway, that's kind of where I'm at.  It's weird here in Bolivia, because I've hardly even seen any one else out running.  There are cyclists, but out where I live I get looks when I'm doing my workouts.  It'd be nice to have somebody else to run with upon occasion, but I guess I'll live vicariously through the blogs of others.

Run Bare?

I started running again last week, but I was slowed by some gimpiness.  Early, it was the knee, later some real tightness in my hamstrings (?).  Pain manifested itself as a significant decrease in flexibility and actual excruciation in my lowest back.  It's worst when I wake up in the morning, and actually got me out of an afternoon of work on Friday, but the symptoms faded over the weekend and acetaminophen takes out the morning gimpiness very quickly.

I ran a few miles and actually really stretched one out on Saturday.  Not sure how fast it was because I haven't been wearing my watch since Friday, but Homey was having trouble hanging on...

It is kind of nice not having that thing strapped to my wrist.  Toward the end of the Stb50, I was feeling encumbered by it.  It actually hurt my wrist enough to where I took it off and clipped it to my waist pack.

Western Grebe
Image from vancouverislandbirds.com/Journal211.html

On Saturday, we all (my mom, Nataly, the Bean, Homey and I) went for a walk around McIntosh Lake.  The lake was really low, and there were tons of birds out - pelicans, geese, a heron and grebes.  I'm not 100 percent on the grebes, they were far off and I didn't have binocs, but the coloring and behavior made sense.

Anyway, the Bean was in his chariot and Homey and I were pushing it, sometimes jogging, sometimes walking, and sometimes chasing his Mom.  He seems to think riding in that thing is about as much fun as he can have sitting down - that's good because I'll be picking him up with it tonight.

Anyway the "running" I did without the watch seemed more fun and less like work without my GPS, so I think I'll start going "bare" there too, at least when a workout doesn't have a specific purpose.  Unfortunately, that won't be the case for today's lunch run, because I've got an agenda - work on speed...
Thanks for reading,
J

Steamboat 50 (Part 3 - Return)

What's gone before and before before...

I messed around up top of Rabbit Ears probably for 5-10 minutes.  It was cool, but at some point I had to head back down that grunt of a hill I had just climbed up.  A volunteer kindly took my picture and I was gone.  Back toward where I had come from.  I typically go downhill pretty fast and I passed a few folks on my way back down.  I also slipped on some steep loose gravel, but just like Imogene somehow managed to avoid any serious consequences.

Somewhere in the 2 and a half mile stretch from the turn around back to the Dumont aid station I went through my longest run ever.  It was remarkable, I even commented to my little video camera about it.  I was feeling pretty good, but my stomach was starting to grumble at me.  Nothing serious, but it felt full and didn't care to stop feeling full.

Back at Dumont, I thought some carbonated beverage might help and I drank some coke and ginger ale to see if that might help.  I hit my drop bag for a couple more gels and Clif Bloks, turned down a beer offer and headed back onto the trail.

Charles Danforth and I had been pretty close entering this aid station, but I lost him somewhere just before it and I wouldn't see him again for quite a while.   I figured he was visiting with his family and that's when it really hit me that my wife and son weren't going to see me finish.  I got really pretty choked up, but the moment passed.

I ran alone for a bit.  I leapfrogged with a couple of very nice women for a while.  Then, as I'm negotiating a downed tree while simultaneously passing someone, my other nemesis of the day appears.  Chris, a guy I had met on a "Church of the Holy Trail" run several weeks back, was letting me pass.

Initially it didn't register, but then I was like:  Hey aren't you Chris?  While he was simultaneously re-introducing himself and saying that he thought he had recognized me eariler.  We would run together for pretty much the rest of the race.

The stomach issue was becoming a real problem, and I was starting to suffer from micro-cramps in my legs.  I had no desire to drink and eating was out of the question.  I got to aid station number 6 and declared myself perplexed and an aid volunteer commented on the salt crusting my cheeks, suggested SCaps, some melon and a turkey wrap.  Initially, I thought the turkey wrap was the all time worst idea ever presented to me, but right then Charles shows back up and said that I should really give it a try.  I was sure he was ahead of me, but it turned out the other way around.  I accepted the roll and headed back out onto the trail.

I would take a bite of the wrap and a mouthful of water to soften it up.  Eventually I got almost the entire thing down.  I was starting to feel better too, but was still worried about the cramping.  I had a vial of Advil and Endurolytes.  Probably a half hour after the SCaps, I took 4 Endurolyte capsules.  This worked.  By the time I got to the Long Lake aid station, I was feeling good again.  My rough patch officially over.

Chris, Charles and I ran in a fairly loose line until we got to the Long Lake Aid station, where I stopped to fill my water bottles and eat a pretzel.  I headed out, and very quickly realized I was forgetting something.  Keys and phone were in my drop bag.  I turned around retraced 100 meters and found my bag sitting in the sun.  I opened it up and upon grabbing my keys and phone, I literally scalded my hand and they ended up on the ground.  I was more than a little surprised, but upon reflection quickly realized that what I had done was effectively leave them on the dashboard of a car in the hot sun.  I picked up the phone and tried to open it, but it was stuck.  I was fairly certain that the thing was dead.  I hoped that the same wouldn't be the case for the keys.  Oh well, they got stuffed into my fanny pack and I headed back out onto the trail with my fingers crossed.

This section from aid station #7 until the Mount Werner station is remote and the race director made it clear that rescue would be difficult if one found oneself in serious difficulty.  I was not having problems, but as I traversed this section I came across 2 people who were.

One gentleman had been unable to keep anything down since the Dumont Aid station -15 miles back, and another person who had been in difficulty since just after the turn.  I offered them both water, gels or Bloks, but they both declined.  I don't know if they finished, but I was really struck with the stubbornness of people who undertake this kind of thing.  I don't think that kind of stubbornness is in me, but I don't really think this race really tested me either.

I caught back up to Chris somewhere on this second to last section, and I think he was experiencing a bit of a rough patch.  We motored along together for a mile or two until he declared that he was holding me back and pulled off.  I wasn't really troubled by our pace, but thought perhaps a fairly cheerful guy could be pretty annoying if you're suffering so I went on alone.

Upon reaching Mt. Werner, there was Charles again.  Dude was truly my nemesis on this day.  At this point I was feeling tremendous.  I didn't really take much time at the aid station, I simply topped up on Succeed and got motoring on the descent.

I started flying.  I pushed the pace into the mid 7's and passed a whole bunch of people.  I was feeling good.  Suddenly, my blisters from Imogene let go.  The one on my left heel splattered seemingly all over and the one on my right heel was torturing me.  I started questioning my own sanity and slowed down a bit.  It was rapidly getting warmer as I descended the mountain and I walked a bit in the shade and had a drink.  I got passed back by one of the people I had passed higher up on the climb.  Then the wheels came off.  I remembered I wanted to finish with a smile.  So the 7's turned into 12s and 13s.  No worries.

Charles came by along with several other people.  I wanted to finish alone so I waited until there was a good gap and jogged it out.  My Mom and her dog were at the finish as was Fred Abramowitz with a pint glass and a hand shake.  Charles quickly greeted me at the finish and said that he couldn't get beat by a rookie.  Chris came in just a couple of minutes after I did and I went over and thanked him for the time we spent on course.

Anyway, this was really remarkable.  Somehow I had finished.  My official finish time was 11 hours 27 minutes and change.  I negatively split the course and I met all of my race goals:  Finish, Smile, go under 12 hours.  Had I not gotten behind on electrolytes and water, I might have been close to 11 hours, but that goal will have to wait for another year.

I believe the ultrabug has bitten and I've been infected.
Thanks for reading.
J

Steamboat 50 (Part 2 - Outbound)

What went before...

The race director marshaled the field out the door around 6.  I wasn't sure what time precisely, but we all clotted together in the start/finish chute and waited for word to get under weigh.  It was chilly at the start and I was wearing the exact kit I went with for Imogene.  Loose fitting wind breaker I've had for an eon, buff, CU Visor, light weight gloves, Boulder Marathon long sleeve tech shirt, shorts, Ijinji (celery color) socks, and Cascadias.  This very quickly turned out to be way too much clothing, but I appreciated it initially.

We didn't have to wait long until we were released and quickly everyone was off and running.  Even me.  I realized my folly fairly quickly and settled into a solid power hike.  This is my first 50 and none of my goals required my "running" this opening stretch.  I expect I wouldn't finish last in an uphill time trial which ended at the Mount Werner Aid station, but with the better part of 44 more miles to go after that first climb I was happy just to let more ambitious bunnies bound away.

After a mile or so, I was very close to dead last.  Looking back down the hill I could only see 6-10 headlamps behind me.  While somewhat disconcerting, I figured that was really not tragic, as the energy I was saving here would probably pay dividends once the opening climb was over.  This is also probably a good place to note that I was wearing my HRM and had decided that an appropriate max HR for this climb would be 170 (my average for Imogene), I didn't set the alarm, but I checked regularly and I never did exceed that target.  Throughout the first part of the race I used my HRM to keep my effort in check:  whenever my HR climbed into the 160's I dialed back the effort a bit.

As the climb progressed, my conservative approach paid off and I started reeling folks ahead of me back in, all the while staying within an assumed safe effort.  We hit the top of the climb and the first aid station and the local radio was blasting Barry White:  Can't get enough of your love or You sexy thang or something like that.  Up next though, Born to Run by The Boss.  That got a laugh.  My split up to this point was 1 hour 44 minutes.

I grabbed a bit of banana, some Succeed, and ventured out onto the running portion of the course.  Almost immediately upon leaving the Mount Werner Aid station we were onto some sweet sweet singletrack.  Briefly I was alone, but soon I came upon a group who were ticking over a pace I could dig.  There was banter.  We discussed the beetle kill, forest fires.  Where everyone was from...  Spirits were high and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

The train stuck together until the Long Lake Aid station where I met my first drop bag and ditched all of my excess clothing.  Jacket, gloves, buff, keys and phone all went into my bag.  I grabbed a couple of gels and Clif Bloks.  I topped up the Succeed in one water bottle and water in the other and headed out again.

The singletrack continued.  I was alone again.  The entire group I had been running with took less time to get through Long Lake than me, but that was fine.  Running alone in woods and open fields like the ones that feature RRR isn't exactly a difficult chore.

Eventually though I came upon another group of about 10 probably a quarter mile ahead of me.  It took a bit, but I ended up catching up, working my way through and eventually out the front of the group.  I think it was during this pass where I acquired my day's nemesis.  Charles Danforth has a website with many detailed trip reports.  I referenced it several times prior to running the Pawnee/Buchannan loop earlier this summer.  I also was planning on running the Four Passes Loop in Aspen with my cousin and Charles's site came in handy again because he had backpacked it before.  I bailed on Four Passes because of weather, but it's still out there...

Charles and I would go back and fourth the remainder of the day.  We would run together for a while, he'd pull ahead and I'd pull him back.  It was great having somebody to chat with of about the same ability.

Aid station #3 came and went without much fanfare.  Looking at my data on the day, I probably ran this third section too hard.  Perhaps the excitement of catching and passing a group got the best of me, but I was having fun, so...

Charles and I ran to aid station number 4 together the entire time.  Around mile 20, Goeff Roes passed us going the other direction very quickly followed by about 4 other runners who I wasn't familiar with.  They were all 9-10 miles ahead of us at about 4 hours into the race.

Aid number 4 was the only one with easy access for crew and family.  Charles had the latter.  I envy him that, as my wife and son have been in Bolivia for more than 2 months.  This time through though I was fascinated enough by the people willing to quaff the Dales, Gubna and other frothy beverages being offered by the aid station volunteers, that I didn't really do any reflection of my own.

At this aid, I had another bag full of gels at this aid station as well as a clean short sleeve tech shirt which I gratefully changed into.  I perused the offerings other than beer under the aid tent and headed out to the turn around at the Rabbit Ears themselves.

This final section of the outbound portion of the race was "run" on a jeep road which started out gradually enough, but eventually became a real grunt.  It's like the race organizers wanted to remind the racers that this was an ultramarathon and that they damn well better be sure that they really want to be doing this.  After 18 or so miles or so of fairly steady running, they put a seemingly near vertical incline for everyone to savor.

During the gradual section, I saw Jim and Brooks on their return.  They were about 5 miles ahead.  Jim looked really quite strong and Brooks really quite determined.  Charles dropped me on the climb up to the Ears, but not by too much and I wanted to mess around a bit when I got up to the top anyway.

The Rabbit Ears are remnants of volcanism that occurred somewhere in the latter third of the last 65 million years.  The landform itself was really pretty cool and its volcanic matrix contained large blocks of the country rock it intruded.  Anyway, I climbed up to it so that I could get a good look.  Shot some video and declared the landform Miocene in provenance, climbed back down to where the volunteers were checking runners off as they made it to the turnaround and headed back the way I came rather full of confidence that I could finish the race.

I made it to the turn in 5 hours and 48 minutes, 12 hours wasn't remotely out of the question, but that waits until tomorrow...

Thanks for reading,
J

Steamboat 50 (Part 1)

This is a tough one.  The memory is a bit vague.  It's been tough to codify my thoughts on the race.

The quick and dirty of it is:  Holy Crap, really?!

But if you're interested the rest of this one and probably 3 more posts will be dedicated to the race itself and it's denouement.  The longer version probably starts the night before...

Like I noted in the post on Saturday, I went to the race meeting and picked up my packet.  The race director gave a moving memoriam to Jenna Gruben, an ultra runner and uber-volunteer for the Steamboat race.  When I picked up my packet there was a little shrine set up to her with a couple of quilt tiles to be signed by the racers.  It didn't feel right, as I had never met Jenna, so I didn't put my name down or offer any words.  It's interesting though because when I think back, the Fruita race was touched by Jenna too and prior to the start, there was a moment of silence and some racers adopted some sort of iconography in remembrance.  Had Dave mentioned Imogene to me 4 years ago instead of three, I expect I would have known this person to whom I have devoted one of my longer paragraphs, but as it stands I guess I missed out.

After the meeting, I hightailed it for food.  Went to the City Market and picked up an 8 piece, dark meat, fried chicken box.  You know, "The cornerstone of a nutritious dinner."  I ate 4 pieces of chicken for dinner and added in some pasta salad, broccoli, a half gallon of apple juice and some Chips Ahoy with milk.  Probably a 2000 calorie dinner at a bare minimum.  Carbo-loading is for short races.

Upon eating, I set my alarm for 4:45 (I think) and turned out the lights.  It was about 9. I felt tired and expected to sleep.  Nope.  I usually don't have too much trouble sleeping, but before Imogene and before Run Rabbit Run, I slept like crap.  I actually got up around 4:20, turned on SportsCenter, and got my act together.

 "Mellow Cup Coffee" is enough to oil the works apparently.  It was nice to get that out of the way before I even left the motel.  I ate a few more Chips Ahoy with milk - "The cornerstone of a nutritious breakfast," - I mixed up a couple of water bottles full of Enduromax, grabbed my gear and headed out the door around 5:20.

I parked, got checked in, and got some water.  Mellow Cup had performed the most pressing duty and I figured I didn't need any more caffeine so I was looking for hydration.  I also grabbed a muffin, but I was pretty well topped up with Chips Ahoy so I only ate the top.  I usually hate when people do that, but I was willing to make an exception.

While milling about waiting to get marshalled to the start, I met Jim and Brooks.  Two dudes who would end up in the top 20.  I was familiar with Brooks because of Brandon and Jim from twitter.  Both gents are obviously much, much faster than I and I wouldn't see them at the finish, but that's a story for another day (Thursday maybe?).

Thanks for reading.
Jay