tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54973137216442912122024-02-18T21:22:35.528-08:00Tales of an Adventure HoundLife is made up of many adventures....these are mine.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-14281811558364531292014-03-06T11:00:00.002-08:002014-03-06T11:00:38.127-08:00Way Too Cool 50k Tips<br />
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<a href="http://www.wtc50k.com/img/wtc-logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.wtc50k.com/img/wtc-logo.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">I've broken down the WTC course for some athletes and thought I'd share them here.</span></div>
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Miles 1-8 (Single Track)</div>
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It's going to be a conga line like you have never experienced (1200+ people). After the first 3/4th of a mile a bottleneck will happen. It will be single file on rolling hills for 6 miles. You won't be able to run the pace you want, take that time (approximately 1-2 hours depending on pace) to fuel and hydrate (drink often and eat at least twice, 100 calories or more before mile 6). Get on top of it early, front load it, because later in the day when it gets hot you will likely underestimate the needs of your body. Temps are to be roughly 68 degrees, a bit a of wind and clear. This is a humid 68 not a Reno 68, drink often!!!!!</div>
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Miles 8-11 (The Downhill)</div>
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This is a big downhill (1,000 foot drop in 2.5 miles). Don't burn yourself out on this. This will be the first time you get to run free (fire road not single track) and you are going to want to let it loose. Be patient, the race will come to you much later. Do not run more than 1 minute a mile faster than you would on the flats. That will seem slow, but unless you have aggressively trained downhills it is where you need to be.</div>
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Miles 11-16 (Quarry Road)</div>
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There are a couple of tricky hills that last less than a minute in this section. If you have a walk/run strategy use it on every hill. If you are a sub 5 hour 50k runner you probably should be running these, however, don't go into any lactate threshold type efforts. If you feel the burn start, slow down and walk for a couple steps. It will pay off big time later.</div>
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Miles 16-21 (The Climb)</div>
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Buckle down, this is a 1,000 foot climb in 7 miles (make sure to eat once, twice if you can). This is when you will start to feel like it is getting hot. It is not all climbing, rather it comes in waves. You need to get to the ALT (Auburn Lake Trails) aid station before you start accessing your time/finish goals.</div>
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Miles 21-25.5 (Drag Strip)</div>
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This section is where you will start separating yourself from the masses. Its a sharp DH followed by some flat and another sharp DH. It is very easy to over run this section. You are going to feel great because to the difference in elevation, stay true to your plan. Do not start thinking "this is the day the rules do not apply to me!" Use the flats to eat and drink. You'll hit Goat Hill at the end of this section and any over exuberance will be on full display at the top of it.</div>
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Miles 25.5-29.5 (Roller Coaster)</div>
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Up, Down, Up! This is where your training and patience will pay off. If you can run here, you are going to make up a ton of time. Stick to your strategy on the uphills and do not kill the downhills too much. You will hit Hwy 49 at the end, get into the aid station, and out quickly. .</div>
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Miles 29.5 to the Finish (31.2)</div>
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This climb will be tough, try to visualize a climb in Reno you have done numerous times. This will make it easier. You will get to the top and start to hear the announcer, that means .75 left. Give all you have at that point.</div>
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Finish-</div>
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Go straight to the food, you will be under nourished and if you stop to talk to friends it will be a half hour before you get anything into your body. Go get that cupcake, pizza or soup that this race is known for then come back and talk to friends and family...better yet have them come with you and purchase anything they can it all goes to a good cause! A, 3 to 1 carb to protein ratio is ideal, but realistically shove whatever you can in your mouth!</div>
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Can't wait for the 2014 season to start, hope to see you at Cool!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-28438022898574042752014-02-27T13:16:00.001-08:002014-02-27T13:16:08.147-08:00The Ultimate Pace Card - Way Too Cool Edition<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
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With technology, specifically wrist GPS devices, pace cards for races are not nearly as important as they once were. However technology has its limits, battery life, GPS accuracy, satellite linking and an array of other issues can impede the usefulness of these devices. With a handy pace chart in your pocket you can always be assured of having the information you need on hand.</div>
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My biggest problem with GPS is a lot of the races I compete in take me longer then the 18+ hours my Garmin 310xt will last. I started running ultras before I owned a Garmin so I compiled a list of things I wanted to know at all times when I was on the course. Some of them can be calculated or shown on your watch, but many of them cannot.</div>
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The essentials</div>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Aid stations and mileage point</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Which aid stations have drop bags</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Full aid or partial aid (sleep station...etc)</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Distance between aid</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Pace for a given finish time</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Pace to a given aid station</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Any cutoff times if you think you will be near them</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Elevation chart to see what is ahead of me</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Time of day (used for 100 mile races)</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;">Mantras and/or strategies to remember</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo-Fjcgyq63FK9FPodJtdTTrPy9tDPdy62bLWmft8Eeub4U6MxYPjIMbydItUUktCW0mBIuVJml7rhaqfN5EaHI_W0yM_1PvL5kOcnPnI1Lo-9_HA9r-W2XRnGazkBNCSWsBtjx9Co4Dz/s1600/WTC+Pace+Chart.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo-Fjcgyq63FK9FPodJtdTTrPy9tDPdy62bLWmft8Eeub4U6MxYPjIMbydItUUktCW0mBIuVJml7rhaqfN5EaHI_W0yM_1PvL5kOcnPnI1Lo-9_HA9r-W2XRnGazkBNCSWsBtjx9Co4Dz/s1600/WTC+Pace+Chart.bmp" height="271" width="400" /></a></div>
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You can <a href="https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/ccc?key=0Av-ZhiFl_uqodExqb0xvMmNNWlN1WDNBb1NsU3pVeGc&usp=sharing">download it here</a>. That is the full copy from a 3:30 finisher to the cutoff at 8:30. Feel free to use it for WTC 50k or just use the format for any event of your choice. I'll also be posting all the pace cards of the events I do on here as the months go on. Simply take out the times you know you won't be hitting. For me I'm shooting for 5:15-5:30 so I want everything from 4:30 to 6:00 on there.</div>
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I use <a href="http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/4/4_1/96.shtmlm">Coolrunning.com</a> to calculate the times. Their pace calculator is easy and quick. I’m sure there is a nifty excel formula one could put in but I don't know it. Kudos to anyone who wants to relay that info in the comments section.</div>
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If the elevation chart is online I copy that and cut it out in paint. Then I print it and paste it to the back of the pace card. I also use the extra room on the back for my various mantras or strategies that I want to make sure to remember.</div>
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Of course the chart is no good if it’s not water/sweat/and snow proof, plus it needs to be durable beyond that. I like to fold and bend them into smaller squares so they fit into my pocket. This problem is easily overcome by the beauty of clear packing tape. Cut out your pace card and place it on the table. Grab your packing tape and cut a piece so that it is a half inch longer on each side of the card. Apply the tape to the front of the card and then flip it over. Do the same to the back. Cut around the edges leaving only a small border. Make sure not to have any 90 degree edges as they tend to dig into the skin through fabric, I round the corners instead of squaring them.</div>
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Now you can fold the chart into any size you wish and you will always have all the information you need for any race!</div>
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WTC is only 10 days away and I feel like I'm running about as fast as ever. I'm only doing a short 2-3 day taper since it's not my goal race for the year so I'll be going in with tired legs. That week should be the largest week mileage wise I've had in years.<br />
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For more tips and tricks of the Ultra world head over to Facebook and like <a href="https://www.facebook.com/deyfitendurancetraining">DeyFit Endurance Training</a>. As always if you'd like to venture into the Ultramarathon world but are not sure where to start, I do offer coaching services. Head over to either <a href="http://www.brandondey.com/">BrandonDey</a> or <a href="http://deyfitendurancetraining.com/">DeyFit Endurance Training</a> and shoot me an email. Happy trails and fast feet!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-10498321133833191252014-01-28T11:50:00.001-08:002014-01-28T11:50:58.659-08:00Branching out and waging war on sitting!<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my resolutions for this year was to branch out and
help share my knowledge of fitness in the hopes of inspiring others to get
active and improve their health. I've had the opportunity in my many years of
competing in various sports to work with many talented trainers, athletes and
coaches. </div>
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I decided in December to stop thinking and start doing. Over
the next few months I'll be launching DeyFit Endurance Training. My focus will be helping those 8-5ers, the
working athletes, the cubicle cowboys and cowgirls learn more efficient ways to
work fitness into their lives. </div>
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We as a nation sit far too much. I’m considered active, yet
I sit for at least 50% of my day. The only way to combat the health
consequences of a sitting lifestyle is to be active more often. Choosing not to sit is not an option for most
of us so we need to come up with practical techniques that are engaging and fun.
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I’m currently creating a workout program to counter the
effects of sitting in our lives. I intend to give it away free once I’m done. It
is going to be simple and comprehensive. I'd love to know if there are any
techniques you use in your life that I might be able to include.</div>
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If you'd like more information head over to my website <a href="http://www.brandondey.com/" target="_blank">BrandonDey.com</a>. Learn a little bit about my journey, what I'll be up to this year and what is in store with my racing.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-5112318377581437602013-09-13T10:08:00.000-07:002013-09-13T10:47:52.073-07:00A Change in Perspective<div class="MsoNormal">
My 10pm walk with Queen Doom and the dogs last night was
awesome. While totaling only about a third of a mile and still in my boot, I
had no pain and actually started walking semi-normal again. It seems (as long
as I monitor it) walking on my heel is behind me now and I can gradually start
flexing and stretching the arch to the toes. Within seconds the smell of the
wet asphalt, newly watered shrubbery and fragrant flowers filled my head. It was
almost as if the torrential downpour in Golden Valley last night was a sign
from nature, clearing away all the smoke in the air. Things that are broken,
burnt or hazy will be become new and clear again with some care and of course, time.
It’s ironic to think of all the epic runs I had this year a third of a mile walk
around the block could be so thrilling. I was moved by the walk, so much so at
1am I woke up, got out of bed, grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled some
notes.</div>
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I awoke this morning feeling fresh for the first time in
months and hopefully ready to change my perspective, I looked at my notes
tucked into my wallet before I did anything this morning. </div>
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October 25<sup>th</sup></div>
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Dominique</div>
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Sasha</div>
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Zeke</div>
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Tim</div>
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Cheryl</div>
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Patty</div>
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Ezra</div>
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GoGo</div>
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DMS</div>
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Burning Man</div>
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866</div>
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My two buckles</div>
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Nelson Family Clan</div>
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I've written down good things in my life (in no particular
order), the things of which I am proud. Not everything of course, after all I
did this in a, just awoken stupor, but the big stuff none the less. None of
those things are perfect, but they all in their own way have helped me create a
wonderful life. I've had trouble recognizing the good in things for a while
now. I’m choosing to change; I’m going to look at this list once a day for a month
first thing when I wake up, before the reality of the trials and tribulations
of life creep in. I've found myself over the last 6 months or so not smiling
and generally not terribly happy. I've allowed life’s issues to bury my positivity;
I once sought the good in everything. Lately I dwell on the bad, unable to see
the light.</div>
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Last night I was reminded of perspective. I could only walk
a third of a mile, a relative blip on the screen compared to the 30+ mile
jaunts in the wilderness of early in the year. I could (and lately would have)
dwelled on the fact that a third of a mile is insignificant to me. The thought
process of “all I can do is a measly third of a mile” would have been my go to
thought. Instead, half way through the walk right after I said to Dominique “I’m
glad we did this” my perspective changed. I’m not sure why, but the thought “I
get to go around the block with my three favorite beings” dominated my mind. It
was a perspective epiphany of sorts I guess.</div>
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I thought this foot thing was going to be 3-4 weeks, which
in hindsight was idiotic and based solely on the amount of pain not severity of
the injury. It’s been 4 weeks and I’m nowhere near close. It’s clear now; we are
talking more like 6-10 weeks (you know....like what I was actually told, but chose not
to believe). 2 weeks from now I was hoping to do a double circumnavigation of
Lake Tahoe, I had hoped to have been coming off the heels of an epic 130 mile
solo journey to my most cherished city in the world, instead I've been blessed
with time. Time to get my house in order; I've been amazingly productive on
that front. Time to help my fiancé with wedding plans; time to sleep in on
weekends and time to learn how to ride that road bike I bought the last time
this happened, a massive change in perspective indeed. </div>
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I love to run and run far. I miss my mornings on top of Peavine
as the sun rises, for the first time since I started running in 2009 I could
not run to my spot on Peavine and watch the hot air balloon races. I know those
things will come back to me, hopefully I've learned that I cannot constantly
push the envelope with my health. Because when I do, inevitably I will lose
those things I love due to injury. 4 stress fractures, plantar fasciitis and a
torn tendon in 4 years with 1.5 years being the longest I've gone without an injury
is just not acceptable. I do not have
just myself to worry about anymore; I need to be healthy for my family. I need
to step back from some of my selfish ways and start thinking about the how I
can make this work. I need to stop doing what I want and start doing what is
smart. If I’m to continue on with running, and achieving my considerably lofty
goals, I have to make changes all over the place.</div>
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Life is a roller coaster and sometimes when the dips are
long enough I forget that they will not last. I become cynical and negative. I
make it hard for those around me to care for me, because I retreat back to my
safe place. I think by looking at this list first thing in the morning I’ll be
reminded of how truly fortunate I am. There have been times in my life when I
could not write even 1 entry on that list, I’m blessed those days are gone. I
know a lot of people who would struggle to find anything good going on for them
right now; I am blessed to not have those problems. </div>
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I’ve got it good…real good. It’s time I started reminding
myself of that more often and of course, cutting myself some slack. If there is
one dominating thought I brought home from Burning Man this year it is this;
the pursuit of perfection (ie my constant pushing of all things) is fine and
dandy but you’ll always be disappointed if being perfect is the only acceptable
outcome. I’m changing my perspective, it's my choice and that's the way it should be.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-89490712360445573142013-08-14T10:23:00.002-07:002013-08-14T10:23:18.819-07:00The End of the Rainbow<div class="MsoNormal">
With my head down and ego bruised I finally made my way to
the doctor yesterday. Looks like I’ll be
taking 3-4 more weeks off from running while my foot heals up from this Jones
fracture. Bleh…..no BM run for this guy in 2013, maybe I’ll shoot for it in 2014.
At this point it seems a little like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow…..I
can see it but I’m never actually getting closer to getting to it.</div>
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Lessons probably not learned (once again)…..</div>
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I should have gone to the Dr 4 weeks ago when I first felt a
minor amount of pain; I Really should have gone after TRT when it hurt to run
the next day, I REALLY should have gone last Wednesday when I fell after my
first step out of bed. Stubborn much?</div>
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I probably should not have run so much for 8 weeks with a
filled pack, 1 day a week probably would have sufficed not every run, or I
should have ramped up to the full weight slower, maybe over 6 months. </div>
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So with that, I’m no longer sure what 2013 has for me in
running. The wise move is switch to shorter stuff once I’m healed, we’ll see if
I’m wise.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-25105092723701419692013-07-26T09:49:00.000-07:002013-07-26T09:49:41.000-07:00Running HomeRunning....well that might be a stretch to call what I'm going to do running. More like walking briskly with some running thrown in there. I've finished the aid station chart for the adventure. Now it is starting to get real serious! I'm running from my house in Reno to my home on the Playa. The best I can estimate is 130-ish miles for the journey, in the heat of August smack dab in the middle of Nevada. Nearly all of it is pretty straight forward. Nothing terribly difficult to complete with the exception of the one 38 mile-ish section. In terms of terrain I would call this pancake flat. There are some rolling hills, but the entire course will have less than 3000 feet in climbing and a little over 3500 feet of descent.<br />
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From the last NDN Taco stand to Empire, it is roughly 38 miles with no water or aid of any kind. A completely exposed and shade-less straight line. This is the section that has prevented me from doing this run all these years. Last year I called the run a week before, because quite frankly I was scared out of my mind to attempt it. I got the last minute jitters. This weekends issues in the heat have only fueled the need to conquer this challenge even more. I'm not yet ready to write or talk about my first voluntary DNF, at mile 18 no less, of last weekends 50k, but I'm going over it in my head relentlessly. Heat has been the one true limiter for me in running. Every "hot" race I've entered, I ended up blowing up due to dehydration or some kind of salt issue. I can think of no way better to fix my heat issues than successfully completing this journey. Everything I do from now to run day will be to learn, fix, and obliterate my heat tolerance. I'm eager to see the growth I can foster in such a short time.<br />
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I have 28 days left to prepare, fear and insecurity are creeping in, but I believe this time I'm ready for the challenge. A 130 mile self supported run in the dead of summer across the Nevada desert, daunting challenge that I look forward to slaying a month from now.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-15217836052356344882013-07-23T09:49:00.001-07:002013-07-23T09:49:52.703-07:00TRT 50k<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This weekend’s exploits in the heat were a wake-up call. My
definition of drinking a lot is obviously nowhere near enough. I've clearly
neglected heat training so it's back to long sleeves and blasting the heater on
the way home (while drinking lots of water!!!!!).</div>
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It's odd how much more you learn from failure than success. I made it 18 miles and had to pull myself from the race for the first time. It was the
shortest trail race I've ever had, yet I probably learned more at Tunnel Creek Aid Station than all the rest of
the Ultras I've run combined. I came into the aid station in rough shape from
the left knee down. They got me back out on the course only to have the other
leg go south on me a mile after I left, at that point it was a "turn
around and tuck your tail between your legs kind of thing"....my day was
done. In the end it was all user error, I did not keep up on my fluids and from
mile 4 on I should have made that the priority.</div>
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Instead I boldly, foolishly, stupidly kept on chugging along drinking only small portions. By the time I realized how dehydrated I was getting, I was in between aid stations and set to go up the Red House loop. The turning point came just before the end of the sandy downhill. I tripped over a rock and both my calf muscles locked up sending me head first into the sand like volleyball player going to a diving dig. From that point on it was a 2mph slog back to Tunnel Creek.</div>
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I've got a lot of work to do in a month! My run to Burning Man is only a month away and this weekends result does nothing for my confidence of tackling the 125 miles on my own. More planning is needed for sure.</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-61244300256329077032013-05-30T12:21:00.002-07:002013-05-30T12:21:55.269-07:00Silver State 50 Mile....my backyard has never been so unforgivingThe Silver State 50 mile race, my home turf. One would think I should dominate this race. I literally run on this course or rather this mountain (Peavine) all the time. My house backs right up to the freaking course, I am 1 mile away from the 5 mile mark. Yet with all these advantages, I've yet to have a good run at one of these events. I ran the half marathon in 2009 as my first ever trail race and the 50 miler in 2011 and 2013. Each of those experiences has been difficult and character building. The half marathon was brutal at the time. I was severely under-trained and so naive about the act of trail running. The 2011 50 mile race was an ass kicking humbling experience that left me questioning everything about running. I finished just short of 13 hours and I could not have gone another mile. I looked forward to seeing what 3 years of trail running and ultra experience would do for me.<br />
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Going in I knew things would be <a href="http://talesofanadventurehound.blogspot.com/2013/05/losing-my-will-to-run.html" target="_blank">tough mentally</a>. However I had convinced myself late the night before that I was stronger than my mind, I was sure I could manipulate myself to have a great day. This was, in a word, DUMB. A stupid naive thought that in reality now seems ridiculous. I learned three weeks ago my mom has cancer, nothing I can do is going to remove that from my mind. Yet, completely convinced of my mind powers, I started the race believing nothing was wrong.<br />
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I went into the race tired. I knew physically I was spent but that was the goal, I did not realize how mentally damaged I was. Within a couple of miles I was fully aware that my mental state was going to be the issue this time around.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">108 excited runners about to embark on 50 miles of Peavine Awesome!</td></tr>
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The start of this race is always fun. We start at the dog park and every year they water the park and the result of which ends in a sloggy wet mess we have to run through. This year was no different, 100 yards in we were getting wet. My buddy even lost his shoe in the mess. I ended up getting one foot wet. Normally I have no issues with watery feet but 100 yards in.....I've got 49.9 miles to go and ONE only ONE of my feet are wet. Was this a precursor to how the day would go?<br />
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The early miles of this race are interesting. Most people go out fast. The terrain is such that a strong runner can run all of it, but there is the rub. Who's a strong runner? Most people are not strong 50 mile runners, and running now, ends in a bad way around mile 30 if you over estimate your running prowess. I started slow, a classic maneuver I've grown to love. However today with tired jelly legs and mind, slow was actually snail like. I crested the switchback at mile 4, I got my first view of Reno and realized no one was behind me. I was last as far as I could tell. In 2011 I never once was in dead last until the cutoffs. Here I am 4 miles in....last. Holy Crap this day is not starting out well.<br />
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I was approaching the mark that is closest to my house and it was 7am. I considered for a short time running home and calling it a day. I was really not in the mood for a run but as I would tell myself for the next 12 hours "Chemo is going to suck much more than this".<br />
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8 miles in and I got a nice little vacation from the race. I reached the Pond, a place that is special to me. I've visited this spot more than probably anyone on the planet. It is 4 miles from my house and I'm probably there once a week. I've been going there since 2004, I've spent countless hours sitting by the water just pondering life. Today I would ponder my moms life. Fortunately for me <a href="http://www.renorunningandfitness.com/" target="_blank">Reno Running and Fitness</a> mans the aid station at the pond and seeing their faces really helped me out on the mental front. This was good, because the rest of the race would be trying on the mental front....to the point of almost breaking me.<br />
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I like to think I'm strong, but today was one of those days where I'm not so sure. I left the pond thinking about my mom. Within a couple of minutes I was leaking from the eyes, and thus started my day. Not crying, just leaking a steady stream of water falling from the corner of my eyes constantly for the next 10 hours. My god it sucked, but "Chemo is going to suck much more than this" I kept telling myself. My mom is a fighter and god damn it today I was going to honor that spirit. I walked almost all the hills this year, I was OK with that. There was a bit of a "bummed" feeling that I had since I have put in so much work this year to actually RUN hills but the reality was "just get what you can done" needed to be good enough today.<br />
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I relaxed, while still leaking and crested Peavine for my first time still quite ahead of 2011's pace. That year I got to this point and ran my heart out, it's downhill for the next 7 miles and if there is one thing I KNOW I do well in running it's getting down a hill fast. That year I remember averaging around 9 minutes a mile and I got to the long valley aid station (mile 19) crippled. I burned myself out and this year I was determined not to make that mistake. I started down the hill and saw another runner. I passed her and saw another....OK I thought to myself 14 miles in and now everyone is on tired legs and I'm doing good. Playing field is level....well except for the fact we were running up and down hills and all. I reached the mile 19 aid station and experience in ultra running was blatant. I averaged 8:45 a mile on my way to this aid stop and I in no way was taxed. All of it was easy running for me. I left Long Valley charged and ready to run. Only my mind and now my body had different idea's.<br />
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It has just started to get warm here and like always I underestimated my hydration needs. The leaking + warm weather meant I should have been draining bottles quickly. Yet I am almost 20 miles in and I've had a grand total of 40 ounces of water. I'd just refilled both bottles for the first time at the last aid station and I was still, even with this knowledge, completely unaware that I was thirsty and dehydrated.<br />
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This would unfortunately hinder me from here on, I just did not know it yet. Truth be told I should have drained both bottles right then, filled them at the next stop and drained them again before I left. I would tell anyone I was pacing to do this and anyone I coach to do the same. However, recognizing that as a runner is something I'm still working on. I got to Dog Valley aid station still feeling OK physically but the monotony of the road we were on was giving me time to ponder. Pondering was not doing me well in this case....more leaking and more dehydrating.<br />
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I got to the hill just before ranch creek and powered up it. I crested the top and had an odd sensation in my left calf. Another sign of dehydration that I refused to listen to. Cramps suck as I'm sure all women will attest too. I ran down the hill to ranch creek well but the pain cave was now within reach and I was headed straight for it. Golly gee, I'm 26 miles in dehydrated SOOOOO 2011! All this experience and training and I'm still making the most basic of mistakes.<br />
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I got to the River Bend a half hour ahead of 2011. Physically I was fine, I was cramping majorly but that was a hydration issue. I sucked down a bottle at the aid station. I really really wanted to quit at this point. "Chemo is going to suck much more than this" I kept telling myself. I just could not quit, and typical me I did everything I could to hide my true feelings at the aid station. The whole day I interacted with people like nothing was wrong, only to get to a point where I was by myself so I could let out how wrong everything was. I suspect most had no idea of the metal anguish I was inflicting on myself.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinking...just a bit late</td></tr>
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I left the aid station dejected. I had 17 miles to go and all of it was tough, I was about 40 minutes up on 2011 but I knew my legs were thrashed and running would not be in the cards the rest of the way. I ran no more than 10 minutes at a time and most times it was more like 2 minutes, then walk to recover. Again, were I coaching or pacing I'd have told myself to sit down and drink so of course I powered on not drinking. Sometimes being stubborn is a fault, this is one of those times. Thanks for that trait mom!<br />
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I reached the summit of Peavine for the second time, I had planned for this to be the glorious ending that resulted in me pounding out 8-9 minute miles for the last 11 downhill miles. I was in no condition to do that though. I sat down in a chair for the first time all day 10 hours into the race. I had a horrible bout climbing that last mile between my mind and my body. I wanted to run, I could not. I kept thinking, "this is probably how mom is gonna feel. Like she wants to but can not, Chemo is going to suck much more than this". Now the mantra was not helping, every time I said this I started to break. 10 hours in and I could not hold back the emotions.<br />
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I ate a whole quesadilla, a sausage and rosemary potatoes at this aid station. The "Squirrel" really had his minions in top form. I finally started drinking as well, slow learner I guess. I was having a horrible day but when the Squirrel asked me how I was doing I realized I was still 40 minutes better than 2011. The day was not going well but I was performing decently given all the circumstances.<br />
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The last 11 miles were a blur, literally and figuratively. Each mile brought with it another emotional breakdown, by the time I reached the last aid station I was done. I was going to finish but I just had nothing left to give to the run. I walked 3 miles to the finish, the downhills, flats and hills. I ran the last 400 yards, again in an attempt to show the world nothing was wrong.<br />
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I finished and saw my queen and my dogs at the finish. I've never been to the finish of a race where my dogs were there, it was quite awesome. I reached the line in a hair over 12 hours almost an hour faster than 2011. I succeeded, but I did not feel like I did. I finished but there was no elation on my part, no "happy" left in me. I turned to my queen hugged her and totally broke down. I was now crying, not leaking. I hated that run and everything I went through.<br />
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It was about this time that I saw another surprise. A good friend and the one I ran the <a href="http://talesofanadventurehound.blogspot.com/2013/02/steep-ravine-half-marathon.html" target="_blank">half marathon</a> in February with was at the finish. He also was at the finish of Western States, damn I thought to myself I know how rough a go he's had this last year and yet he's here supporting me. I sat down on the grass with both dogs licking my face. My queen on my left and my friend on my right. The next thing I knew the Prez was right there congratulating me on a fine performance. He told me I was strong and what an achievement today actually was. I told him that was the most excruciating 12 hours I'd ever had and I compared it to being in solitary confinement. I uttered the statement, "there is no way I can finish TRT if I do not figure this thing out" I simply could not escape my mind the entire day. Running did not provide me a safe haven, in fact if made it worse.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zeke, my boy!</td></tr>
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That's how I felt, but like it usually does time changes perception. I am so much stronger for running that race. I know now I am every bit as tough mentally as I am physically. I did not get the clarity I was looking for with my moms situation but realistically I was never going to get that. I did get the confidence that I can handle this, it is going to be day by day but I'm going to be fine. My mom is going to be fine too, she is so strong and taking this all so well. I had a great conversation with her a couple days ago and she seems to be in a great place mentally. Life is going to go on, I might as well embrace it rather than run from it. Ironic considering my hobby.<br />
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As I have come to expect the race was top notch. The <a href="http://www.silverstatestriders.com/" target="_blank">Silver State Striders</a> were out in full force and every aid station and course worker was excellent. All three distances offered are awesome, this is not an easy race for anyone but it so empowering. The course is relentless but rewarding. The views of Reno are outstanding and the fact it is on Peavine is awesome.<br />
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I'm running my first Reno Tahoe Odyssey this weekend and I look forward to seeing how I respond from this experience. I suspect I'll respond well to it, cause that's just what I do. Like my mom, I'm a fighter, I'm stubborn and both those traits work well for success. My running inspires my mom, she revealed that to me in our last conversation, that made me proud. I love to run, but I got lost for a month or so and questioned why I should continue. The "why " is probably going to change from year to year but I hope the benefit does not, running makes me happy. Its really as simple as that. I'm ready to get back to work, to be the best person and runner that I can be. I'm going to run TRT and I'm going to run it well. The granite underbelly of the TRT course has no idea what I have in store for it.<br />
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GAME ON!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-67826325313868622222013-05-24T12:22:00.000-07:002013-05-24T12:22:00.409-07:00Losing My Will To Run"Brandon, I'm just going to come out and say it. I have lung cancer", and like that my world stopped. This is not the type of thing you can be prepared for, a parent telling you they are going to die. We all know it is going to happen, yet most of us sit back in our pretty little worlds believing we have all the time in the world. Stage 4 lung cancer spread to the lymph nodes, not good. My mom had been a 2 pack a day smoker for 50 years. This was not a surprise, but at the same time it was a complete shock. I'm really not sure how that works. My journey to Western States ended the day I started the race in 2012, my mom quit smoking then as well. She'd not smoked since, up until she got the news that is.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zeke, Mom and Sasha celebrating their birthdays together!</td></tr>
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I'd prepared myself back in my late 20's that my mom would pass earlier than I wanted. She had been in and out of the hospital seemingly yearly with some major issue or another, almost all of them smoking related. It was clear to me that the end was near back then. I made my peace with her smoking, it was her life and it made her happy. The consequence of making that peace, I pulled away from her emotionally. I just could not deal with the constant barrage of sicknesses that in my mind were completely avoidable.<br />
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Once she quit, I could see the life come back to her. She got healthy (we thought) and I started to knock down those barriers again. I figured if she was taking an active part in becoming healthy to live, I needed to do the same with our relationship.<br />
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The last year I have enjoyed some of my most fond memories of my mom. However, as it usually does, life sorta pulled an about face on us. Her life will never be the same and I've now opened myself up to all the heartache I tried to shield myself from. I'm getting married in October and my only hope is that I can dance with my mom on that day. Every single day this month, I have spent countless hours hoping and planning a way to make that happen. My unfortunate reality is, I can do nothing. I can not work harder, be smarter, or buy a fix to this situation. I simply must sit back and let it happen. Anyone who knows me well, understands sitting back and waiting is about the hardest thing in the world for me to do.<br />
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I had the Silver State 50 mile race scheduled 3 weeks after we found out about the cancer. I'd tried to run "long" the two weekends previous to the race and both attempts failed miserably. I thought running would provide me a safe haven to escape life like it normally does. I can run for hours and just be lost and happy in the playground that is my mind. Within a few miles on both attempts I was a wreck, to the point I just had to call the runs and go home. The second one in particular was a group run from the River Bend aid station, we ended up with probably 40 people and I was so embarrassed about my mental state. We had so many people on the run and I was having such a hard time keeping it together. I got to the top of Sandy hill and completely lost it. My legs buckled, I fell to the ground weeping. I was 3 miles into a 25 mile run and I was done. My want to run was gone. I ran to the 50/50 split directed everyone the correct way and then left. It took me two hours to get back to the car. I might have been 5 miles away at that point. I would get so emotional I could not even see the trail ahead of me.<br />
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I've joked to friends I've never met a mental state that I could not force myself to run in......while that may be true, apparently a broken heart will derail me quite easily. I really was not sure if I was going to actually start the race up to the day before. In fact, running and even the thought of it, these last couple weeks seems so trivial and selfish that it has simply been unappealing. I spend so much time running, for what? Why? I once thought I had those answers, now I'm not sure I even want to run anymore. It seems pointless.<br />
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I had volunteered to work the registration and bib pickup of the race on Friday before at Eclipse Pizza. Once the registration and race meeting were over I sought a little council. I talked to two of my trusted running friends Gator Boy and the Prez. I asked if there were any tricks to coping while running and they could provide none. However, they assured me I was strong and capable. To take it slow and easy and of course since it was a run in my backyard there would be many friends to lean on along the way. Only, I'm not so good at leaning on people. In these situations I pull way back into hobbit mode. I disappear deep into my head and I do not come out till I've figured it all out. 50 miles seemed so far. I did not look forward to it, and 12 hours before the race I was still in "who knows" mode about starting.<br />
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Once I got home I got a good dose of perspective from my beloved better half. She's been amazing through all of this. I am truly blessed to have her in my life. So with about 6 hours to go, at midnight, I made the decision to go ahead. Ultimately it is what my mom would want, and maybe just maybe 50 miles of alone time would bring with it answers or at least a little bit of clarity. Surely after a couple hours the emotions would leave me and I'd be able run free and fast. Yes, that's it! Just make it through those first tough miles and all will fall into place, I kept telling myself as I went tried to sleep. I awoke at 4am dead set on running my plan.<br />
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The plan being run the race at 100 mile pace, concentrate on fuel and hydration and use the last 11 downhill miles to pick up the pace and finish strong. I wanted sub 12 hours at an easy relaxed pace. I'd made sure to go into the race very tired to mimic as much as I could the "second 50" of TRT. I had two quality runs, one a 5k paced tempo run and a very hilly run. On top of that I helped mark about 8 miles of the course on Thursday, two days prior to the race. With 28 miles on my legs this week, I was sure to be tired from the start. Plus, if all went well I'd have my biggest week of miles yet this year.<br />
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I left the house around 5:15. I had no nerves for the first time in a race. I surmised the lack of nerves was because I simply did not care about the race. I was determined to finish, but I had no idea what kind of day it was going to be. Would I be able to compartmentalize my pain from my grief and run well? Would this be a mirror image of the last two times I tried to go for a long run? I tried to prepare myself for what I would go through, but as I found out 12 hours and 10 minutes later, I had no flipping clue what I was about to go through.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-23170604237393399032013-04-22T08:24:00.002-07:002013-04-22T09:15:33.205-07:00Woodside Ramble 50k I ran the Woodside 50k last weekend. It has taken me almost 2 months to come back from that nasty ankle issue I had back in February. While still a little sore after the 20th or so mile, I feel now it is as good as it is going to get. I can manage all the issues it presents me at this point. Since that injury I have made health the #1 priority over any fitness gains. I think I've turned the corner on that and really am starting to see the benefits of being healthy for an extended period of time. I'm now at almost 14 months of health and I have no intent on ending that anytime soon.<br />
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This 50k had a lot more climbing than I expected. I was shooting for a 6:30 race which would have been an hour faster than any trail 50k I've run to date. I left Reno Friday night and we got to Woodside around 8:30pm. A quick trip to Denny's for some fuel and back to the hotel and in bed by 10. My stress level has come down slightly since February and my sleeping habits have improved a bit. I actually got to sleep before midnight!<br />
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First off this race was 100% first rate. Completely marked, well stocked aid, tough as nails to run and a great vibe at the finish. A huge thanks to <a href="http://www.insidetrail.com/" target="_blank">Inside Trail Racing (ITR)</a> for the their efforts and giving the Reno runners a discount on the race.<br />
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As you can see there is really nothing flat on this course, long ups and downs were the name of the game this day. We started out climbing and within 25 minutes I realized I was in new territory. I was trying to take it easy but I kept finding myself starting to jog going up hill. I was not cursing the hills while I ran like I have so often, in fact I was actually catching people and passing them. I figured this was just early race jitters and my normal slow and steady would come back towards the middle parts of the race.<br />
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We got to the first aid station and I had just finally figured out the people I was running with were doing the 35k, this immediately sent up a red flag. I was running uphill with them.....no way I could keep up that pace so I better slow down. For the next 5-8 miles I settled into a very comfortable pace and tried to concentrate on eating and drinking. When we got to the next aid station I knew my time to shine was ahead of me. We had this massive 3-4 mile 1500 foot descent. I LOVE going downhill! I've been working on getting a fast tempo that allows me to recover and I set out down the hill. I passed about 15 people and at one point saw a 6:55 pace. I averaged between 7:45 to 8:15 on those miles and I new at this point nearly half way that I was having a good day. I also knew that what goes down must come back up on a loop course. I had a 4 mile slog back to the top so I reached down to grab a gel. Oh SNAP! I forgot to zip the pocket and I lost all my gels. I had not had one since the last aid station and would not get another till the next, so I'd be going almost 9 miles with no fuel. DAMN IT. I got a new waist pack 2 weeks ago and had not used it in a race, no other pack I have uses zippers and I just forgot this one did. Dumb move.<br />
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Starting back up the hill I see this woman running back at me waving her hands yelling we are going the wrong way. I asked if she was sure and she assured me she had just been over a half mile with no markings. I could not comprehend this as I had just seen one. Turns out she missed a marker and was mistaken but it took about 5 minutes of backtracking to figure it all out. Once back in the right direction and heading up the hill I got that feeling again. "I can jog some of this" I thought to myself. "OK to that tree then walk", I said. I repeated this over and over, it resulted in me running probably 75% of that hill and passing many people. I got to the top elated. I hit the aid station inquired about where I was in the race and they said top 25 or so.<br />
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That news got me all jacked up and I took off from that aid stop well fed but starting to feel the effects of the lost Gels an hour earlier. I knew I had about 30 minutes before a huge crash which would last about another 30 minutes. I tried to eat but I got to the point where I had more in my gut than I could digest, so I knew at that point all I could do was ride out the low point. I got passed shortly after by two older gentlemen who clearly had been holding back the first 25 miles.<br />
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I passed the last aid station and finally started doing the numbers. If I really hustled and pushed I could break 5:35 I figured. I set off like a bat out of hell down that trail. At this point the best I could muster was low 8 minute pace but it felt like 6. Then about 2 miles from the finish it happened, I'd finally pushed my legs too far and they stopped working. I had to walk some of the downs and all of the hills, my watch was telling me 5:40 was now out of the question but sub 6 was still in order. The last mile sucked, all uphill and I was wrecked with no energy to spend. I trotted into the finish in a lifetime best of 5:49 on the clock almost 2 hours better than my previous best. I was amazed. The training and extended health is really starting to pay off. I ended up 20th place and 6th in my age group.<br />
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About 20 minutes after the finish I got this huge blast of energy from everything I ate an hour earlier. My running mates from Reno started coming in and we all celebrated great days. We brought down 4 people all of whom placed in the top 40, with 3 50k PR's and the other non PR was a huge success as she came across the finish line stating she could "run another 20 no problem", which was her goal for the race.<br />
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I know now making health my most important goal has been and will continue to be the best bet for me. While I still regret choosing not to start that race 2 months ago, I am certain the result wold have been tragic to my goals for running this year.<br />
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My next race is Silver State 50 mile in May, I'm looking forward to us since I last ran that race in 2011. It was to this date the worst race I've ever run. I look forward to taking revenge on that course and running a lot of the hills! I think I have a shot at sub 11 hours if everything goes right.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-73452328567859847472013-04-19T10:45:00.000-07:002013-04-19T10:48:11.421-07:00Goal Setting and Why I May Have Been Going About It All Wrong(I wrote this the day before my first 50k of the year in the middle of February.)<br />
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At the conclusion of my run to Auburn in 2012 I spent a couple days thinking about my life, where it was going and where it had been. I had such an amazing journey to Western States, there was so much I learned about myself in the three years I had been running. I learned at a young age that when it comes to performing, I am going to go to the farthest depths that I can to get the result I want. I can push farther than your average Joe. Despite physical or emotional pain I have always had the ability to focus on the task at hand and get the job done. In my youth, I felt this was one of my best qualities. It made me feel studly and it gave the appearance to others that I was a tough SOB. These things were important to me because at the time I lacked self worth (am I worthy of that which I'm trying to attain or have been given) and self esteem (confidence that I can achieve). A double doozie for any young man to have.<br />
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I got a grasp on my confidence once I left the nest and went to college, as I suspect a lot of young men do. However, I still struggle daily with self worth. One reason I set so many goals is because I constantly feel unworthy. If I achieve, I must be worthy. If I do not, then I am not, pretty simple.<br />
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I had a revelation of sorts last night. I've never felt that my goal setting could be in any way unhealthy. How could it be? You set a goal, you achieve it. You move on to the next one. Setting goals in and of its self, is not a bad thing, but I now suspect the way I use those goals to make myself feel better is not the healthiest of ways to go about it. I make every goal so important that in many cases I continue on down the path of achievement against better judgement. I once viewed this as determination, and a positive thing. Now I'm not so sure.<br />
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Two weeks ago I injured my ankle at a race. I've been nursing it ever since, taking off Monday through Wednesday, lightly running Thursday, and getting long miles in on the weekend. I've kept the intensity of these workouts under wraps. Still, my ankle is giving me some trouble. I'm also apparently coming down with whatever bug has been going around and I'm generally feeling a little lethargic.<br />
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I have my first 50k of the season tomorrow. My goal is a sub 6 hour run. I made that goal because I want to feel like all the training I have been doing is worth it. I've been busting my ass since December first trying to actually run up steep hills rather than walk. I have this need to feel inside myself that I am worthy of the praise my friends and family bestow upon me for my running exploits. I consider myself an average runner at best. My family and friends do not, I am special to them. I just do not see it that way. My reality (perception maybe) is, I am part of a very small percentage of people, who for what ever reason, choose to run distances most people do not even like to drive. Of those people who do it, I'm average, and I'm working on getting better. To me, my special quality in this sport is pain and suffering, or rather dealing with it, not my running ability.<br />
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So how does all this fit into a revelation while sitting in bed at midnight unable to sleep last night? Well, I hurt enough and felt sick enough, that I had to start pondering if going to the race tomorrow was a good idea.<br />
As recently as a year ago (I in fact had this same conversation with myself last January) I would look at this decision and consider it an easy choice. You go, you run hard, you succeed. You signed up, paid for it, told everyone you were going....you live up to your word. The outcome of that decision a year ago, and most of the others like that in my life to date, has been the same. I do go, I do succeed and I also end up broken.<br />
Each and every time I pushed through relatively small issues only to find on the other side I made bigger ones. Just looking at the last three years of running, 4 times I have downplayed the importance of my health for the achievement of a relatively minor goal and each of those 4 times I was left sitting on the couch for months at a time mending wounds incurred.<br />
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It is funny, but last night was the first time I've put all this together. Do my self esteem issues hinder me in placing an importance on my health? Surely if true, I must do this in other non athletic endeavours. After some thought, I would say there are many parts of my life I downplay my health (mental or physical) in order to meet some arbitrary want.<br />
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I woke this morning to a familiar feeling, a sore ankle and a sore throat. I left for work positive it would all pass and made my plans for the race the next morning. My hour long drive to work affords me a lot of thinking time. I recalled my thoughts so early that morning and realized I may not be 100% unbiased in making this decision. Fortunately I have an ace in the hole. I'm fortunate enough to have for the third year in a row, a massively qualified ultra runner as a coach and mentor. After talking with her we both agreed that the goal of the year is TRT100 in July. She acknowledged how hard I was working and put a new spin on it. Basically, I know I'm in shape and the time to show that is when I am healthy. Pulling out a great race tomorrow is no where near as important as doing it in July. Skipping this weekends run will not instantly make me a sloth on the course, but going and getting seriously injured will. The benefit to staying home and swallowing some pride is worth more than being stoic, determined and injured.<br />
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So with that, I'm taking another step of growth. I can complete the race tomorrow, of that much I am sure. However, the risk in doing so is now too much for me to ignore. I'm going to stay home and recover as much as I can and push back the effort I was going to unleash tomorrow until next weekend, or the one after that. It is a tough decision for me to make. It sorta feels like quitting, but the reality is as bad as I may feel making this decision, I'd feel a whole lot worse for a lot longer if something happened in the race. Especially if I ended up hurt like so many other times these last couple of years. So with that, I'll take the DNS tomorrow and live to race another day.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-38138363939787909202013-02-01T12:29:00.000-08:002013-02-01T14:20:49.378-08:00Steep Ravine Half MarathonI was asked some weeks ago by a friend if I would be interested in going to Marin to run a race with him. Since this year I am trying to be cost conscious to pay for my wedding, I had to inquire about the details. He said we had a free place to stay, he would drive and all I had to do was sign up. The next week I signed up for my second Trail Half Martathon. The Steep Ravine half put on by the great folks at <a href="http://www.coastaltrailruns.com/" target="_blank">Coastal Trail Runs</a>.<br />
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The last time I ran a trail half was May of 2009 at the Silver State Half Marathon. It was my first trail race and I had no idea what I was doing. I ended up finishing and an hour later was convulsing on the floor at my house because I'd run so hard for my fitness level at that point.<br />
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I was determined that this run would be different. Life has been busy the whole month of January so I paid no attention to anything about the race. I had no idea of the climbing we would be doing and as uncharacteristic as it is of me, I planned only to show up for the race. That is it. I had a minor time goal of 2:15, but even that was just a guess since I have not raced this distance in so long.<br />
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We left Reno around 10 on Saturday and headed to Marin. I cherished the fact I would not be driving, it seems like I always drive and another of my cost saving practices I have taken on this year is to be the co-pilot as often as possible and just give some moolah for gas. I found out when we got to the house we were at that it was on a golf course, the house was very nice. The bathroom was especially...upscale. At least compared to my bathroom. It had heated toilet seats and the toilet also doubled as a buday, complete with temperature controlled water jets. I chose to use only the functions on it that I knew...in other words flush only! I should have known then what I was in for....if the toilet scared me what the heck is the trail from Stinson beach going to do?<br />
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We went into Fairfield for dinner and a movie. Then back at the house and before bed, a nice dip in the hot tub. My buddy went to bed pretty early and as usual I was up till almost midnight. With a 5:30 wake up in order I finally succumbed to the reality that I needed to try to get to sleep. I laid down on the couch shut my eyes and went through the routines I use to try to go to sleep. About a half hour later I finally fell a sleep.<br />
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Morning came quickly and I got up to get some food. My normal bagel and cream cheese served me well. I went with only water as a liquid source, and hydrated while we drove the hour and twenty minutes to the start of the race at Stinson Beach. I'd never been to this part of of California so the wonder of what would be around every corner made the drive go by quickly.<br />
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We got our bibs from the check in and hustled back to the car and it's warmth. It was not cold but being from the dry arid environment of Reno made the relatively warm 40 degrees feel like 20 with the humidity. Bibs pinned and clothing stripped we got out of the car and headed for the start. We were told to follow the orange and yellow ribbons.<br />
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The race started and we took off. I started slow, if the last three years have taught me anything it is that I have a lot better chance at doing well by starting a little slow and ending in a full on sprint than I do going out hard and hanging on. Once my body starts shutting down it goes down fast, plus the last thing you remember about a race is the finish, and if you finish hard, chances are you are going to feel a little better about the run no matter what your time was.<br />
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Within a quarter of a mile we hit the steps of a trail I assume was the Dipsea. I'd heard about these steps and made the foolish assumption that they would be no harder than a really steep hill hike. That thought was turned upside down within minutes. It is really like stair stepping, different muscles than I normally use and they protested from the get go. I realized that this was going to be a climb up descend down and repeat type of run, not much in the way to flat running.<br />
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At the 2 mile mark my back was killing me from bending over so much. I had to slow the pace even more and at one point pulled off the trail to stretch for about a minute. Once we got to the top there was an aid station, I walked around aimlessly at it for about 10 seconds trying to figure out where to go. Finally I found a volunteer who directed me in the right direction. The only thing I would have done different at this race if I were putting it on is use the yellow ribbon for the entirety of the half marathon course. From where I was, until I got back to the top of the hill, we followed the orange 50k ribbons. After a couple miles it was a little unsettling as I thought more than once I might be on the 50k route.<br />
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From that aid station we had about a 2 mile steep descent of which I took advantage. I ran hard down some pretty technical terrain passing tons of people. When we got to the bottom I found out there was a short 1.4 mile out and back on some rolling singletrack that headed to Muir Beach. I slowed my pace to 8:40ish pace since I had realized we would just be retracing our steps and I needed to save a little for the climb back up to the aid station.<br />
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Once done with the out and back, I started up the hill. I was surprised that I could still jog parts and my hiking speed was now above most of those around me. I was going the same pace as the first 3 miles up hill, so it was clear most of these people had not paced themselves the first 7 miles of the race. Half way up the hill I caught sight of my buddy and made the goal to catch him by the time we got to the top. Then we could take the 3 mile downhill to the finish together. I ended up catching him about a half mile from the top and he was having some quad issues. I felt great so I bid him farewell and started hammering the climb. I had realized by mile 3 I had no chance at the 2:15 mark, when I crested the top of the hill to the aid station I looked at my watch and it said 2:04 and change. I made it my goal to finish in 2:30. I knew I would need to fly down the hill to hold an 8:40 pace on that kind of terrain with so many people on the trail. I took off, I was speeding down the hill. I passed at least 20 people in the first mile and a half. I was putting some serious effort on this part of the run, yet I was having so much fun. Hoots, hollers, and yeehaws coming out my mouth every couple seconds. Letting my Hoka's suck up the terrain and blasting off every rock and root. I was jumping off the steps that I hated while coming up. I was doing old school skiing tricks like Daphies, Spread Eagles and Back Scratchers as I jumped. I was within a mile of the finish and thought that I better stop clowning around, so I slowed a bit and tried to pay more attention to the terrain. Within a minute of doing so I missed a step jammed my left foot into the ground then on the next step turned my ankle. Ironic....but so goes the way of trail running. After about 30 seconds my ankle was numb and I was back running fast. I crossed the bridge to get to the finish line just before Stinson Beach and headed on in. 2:30:05.....Damn I thought, 5 seconds from the goal!<br />
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My buddy came in shortly after and we enjoyed a Sprite at the finish. He was still hurting a bit (quads) so I drove us back to the house with a stop at Taco Bell on the way. Once packed up and fed we left the house, he said he was cool to drive and I made it home to Reno by 6pm and considered the weekend a success.<br />
<br />
It was not until Wednesday of this week I realized how well I actually did at the race. I pretty much always end up in the 50-60th percentile in terms of finishing place. This day I placed 26 of 99 easily my best finish of my career. I was about 37 minutes off the winning pace, another shock to me. I'm still about 10 pounds heavy for this distance, well the reality is at a svelte 203 pounds I'm way heavier than I need to be. However 190 seems to be where I run best and since I've not been under 185 since High School I call that my sweet spot. I do have a goal of 175 by July's TRT 100, but at this point I can not fathom being that light. To have that type of output and result this early in the season I am thrilled. I have my first 50k of the season on Feb 9th and I'm thinking I might just be able to pull out a pretty fast time, maybe even sub 6 hours.<br />
<br />
Till then I'll watch the Niners in the Super Bowl this weekend. I'll be doing 10 miles at tempo pace on Saturday and a long run of 20 or so miles Sunday. No taper going into the 50k, so next week will be a high mile week for me, I might even hit 70 miles. I am exactly 1 month from being injury free for a whole year. Since I started running the longest I have gone without hurting my foot/toe is 9 months. 2013 has the makings to be an awesome year of running for me if I can stay healthy!<br />
<br />
13.1 miles 2:30<br />
Shoes-Hoka Stinson Evo White/Blue<br />
1 Gell + 1 20oz bottle of Hammer Perpetuem<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-56459420945270909562012-12-27T11:23:00.000-08:002012-12-27T11:23:32.103-08:00Review of 2012's Big Events and Expectations for 2013<br />
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">The last three years have been focused for the most part on running and completing the trek to Auburn via the Western States Trail. I fortunately wrapped up almost all my running goals and a couple of life goals in a pretty little bow this year, completed, done.....finished! Though not
all of those goals/events have been related to running, I can say running has
helped me either achieve them, or find my way through them all. Consequently my heavy focus on running has led to delaying action on other parts of my life that needed tending to. </span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">My personal, professional and athletic components of my life are in need of a better balance. This next year I want to concentrate on my life as a whole not just a single part. I've spent the better part of the last couple months delving deep into my soul and my brain to try to figure out what, if anything, is missing from my life. The answer.....goals. I'm goal oriented, I need something to strive for in order to make sense of my life. I've realized over the last three years I have lacked clear and concise professional and personal goals, to go along with my athletic goals. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">I intend on attacking every aspect of my life that I currently deem unacceptable and replacing it with something I am either passionate about or that increases my happiness. I have come to realize I'm pretty darn happy with a pair of shoes and a route to run, my four legged children and my gal by my side. At one time I felt I needed a lot of "things" to be happy. I now believe I felt that way because I lacked some fundamental components in my life and I used those materialistic things to fill the void. I've made a list of what I do not like in my life, and I've started taking steps to cross the first one off the list. I suspect come this time next year, my life is going to be drastically different, in all areas.</span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">I'm still going to toe the line at races, and I intend on running the TRT100 as long as I can train properly for it. I want to give back to the running community that has given me so much over the last few years. I'd like to share my knowledge as well as spend more time volunteering with races, clubs and helping anyone who wants to run. I've wanted to organize a hill climb up Peavine mountain on a certain route that is sure to bring even the most fit to their knees and I want to give Reno a taste of the classic "Beer Mile" with a little BDey twist. However, next year I'm going to minor in running, next year is all about change. I do not like change, but if running has taught me anything it is that you need to get a little uncomfortable to figure out how great you can be, I've spent the last decade being comfortable. It is time to take some calculated risks, and see where things fall.</span><br />
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">I've had an amazing year in 2012. Most that know me would probably say that finally running and finishing Western States was the highlight of the year, but in reality it pales in comparison to two other events. Without those two events occurring, I would not have the courage to make the changes I intend on making in 2013.</span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">#1....I got over my fear of commitment in one key area. I
actually made the move to ask my long time girlfriend to marry me. For reasons
that go all the way back to childhood I have had marriage issues. My parents
were divorced and it was ugly, it got to the point I really did not want to be
with or around either of them. </span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">Fortunately for me she said yes! I'm positive that one word answer
and the journey to get there, has helped me more than she will
ever understand. That answer, for what ever reason, validated me. While
the thought of such a long term commitment scares the heck out of me,
at the same time, I now realize that this commitment has brought with
it a partner to share in both my successes and failures. I'm not going at life
alone anymore. Coming from someone who genuinely likes to be alone and to do
things by himself, this has been an unexpected revelation. Since 10/01/05 when
we became official, I've had the best partner I could have ever
imagined. She makes me a better person, she's changed my outlook on life, and
she’s taught me to stop and smell the roses rather than be so
completely focused on the goal or directive I'm obsessing about at
that moment. She's taught me to travel and to take things (especially myself) not so
seriously. Taught me that I will never be perfect no matter how hard I try, so perhaps a new barometer for success is needed. Most of all, she has
stood by me through all that I've been through for so long. She's never tried
to change me, she's never asked for anything other than what I could give. I
simply can not imagine my life without her. I'm usually an early adopter...but
damn it took me a long time to figure out the riches I had beside me the whole
time. </span><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnGhWyxKi8-ZY6Uzg4U76BypIJIXUHcNNJyGpLhjT_DmnPpXo3H1Dp8yoIiQG4gbNrvOUK5FQiYdC-_HAHAZ2o4S_p-Mxwaey1mLMR_dZaVaRrA9w6MkcjicPum11vOo36XP4LDcqTWjsY/s1600/Camp+Wide+Wedding+Photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnGhWyxKi8-ZY6Uzg4U76BypIJIXUHcNNJyGpLhjT_DmnPpXo3H1Dp8yoIiQG4gbNrvOUK5FQiYdC-_HAHAZ2o4S_p-Mxwaey1mLMR_dZaVaRrA9w6MkcjicPum11vOo36XP4LDcqTWjsY/s400/Camp+Wide+Wedding+Photo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We said our vows to each other at the same place we met in 2005. Not a real wedding in the strictest sense, but it was to us. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">#2....My mom finally took her life back. My mom had been a chain smoker for close to 60 years. Most of my memories of her have a cigarette in her hand. 3 days before Western States I got a call no child wants to ever get. Unfortunately, I've gotten that same call so many times for the last decade. This one was different though, the end was truly near. My mom was dying, she'd been dying for years and to cope with it I made the decision to be ambivalent about it. We all knew that smoking was the culprit, but I chose to stand idly by, while it killed her. I rationalized it in my mind, that it's her decision to smoke and I'll support her if it is what she wants to do. Right or wrong, that was what I did. That call upset me greatly; I was a wreck, to the point I considered scrapping my Western States run in only 3 days and taking a plane to St George to go see her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Obviously, I did not make that decision. It was an act of selfishness, that to this day, I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I like to think that some of my running and the struggles I have had getting to the WS start line, my ability to never accept circumstances and to make my own way despite what I may have been told by the "experts" helped my mom realize she that she too had power. The power to quit smoking. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Since that phone call, my mom has not had a single smoke. Of all my accomplishments, none of them compare to what she has done in taking her life back and quitting smoking. In the last 6 months I have seen her turn into the woman I remember from my childhood, but now, without the cigarette. I recently had the chance to spend her birthday with her and it was the best week I've had with her in my adult life. She’s motivated, happy and healthy. She's my mom again. I'm not sure what role I really played in her journey, or what role I'll play going forward, but I've been given some extra time on this earth with her and I'm not about to take it for-granted. My mom has taught me through this experience that it is never too late to make a change, and the longer you wait to make it, the more time you lose. Life is simply too short to waste time accepting undesirable circumstances that you have the power to change yourself.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwauAy7GoV-fULIjdd-BVuPzZymk0Et6ot23B8uWBulnQ81iDECCNBF3xOIOJbIc1XWeBOHfiv9ddiUiPMoyatFRbGq7gO5nPdaQ4bIEvqJlWiHTUveSd6-gtRB8SuUzaAV8-WOoyfK1M/s1600/Mom+Zeke+and+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwauAy7GoV-fULIjdd-BVuPzZymk0Et6ot23B8uWBulnQ81iDECCNBF3xOIOJbIc1XWeBOHfiv9ddiUiPMoyatFRbGq7gO5nPdaQ4bIEvqJlWiHTUveSd6-gtRB8SuUzaAV8-WOoyfK1M/s400/Mom+Zeke+and+I.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom going for a hike at 8700 feet, it was tough for her but she did great.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">#3....I
finally made it to Western States, I ran it and finished. I've always dreamed
of a sub 24 hour finish on the track in</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: Arial;"> <st1:city u2:st="on"><st1:place u2:st="on"></st1:place></st1:city></span><st1:city style="font-family: Arial;" w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Auburn</st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-family: Arial;">.
I still dream of it, but sitting on the lawn inside the track with so many
friends around me sharing in my accomplishment, I realized how great things
were. It may be a fault, but I'm a perfectionist, I can not run from that, excuse the pun. I'll
always look at what could have been done better, for any task. On this day
though, I was content, I really had all that I needed. Of course sitting on the couch 24 hours later I was already making changes to my plan for the next one. I have a Western States binder, 2 inches of strategy, course data and all the information I can find on the race. The pursuit of perfection is ingrained into me. I have, however, learned that there are many ways to measure success and I am very proud of the effort I put forth on that day and my training leading up to it. I'll be back someday and
I will go sub 24. For now though, I'm content to be a part of the event that is the Western States Endurance Run, in any capacity I can. I've spent so many years thinking about Western
States, my journey to get there has been so cathartic, that I want to keep it
in my life. The culture of the event breeds awesomeness. I can say for certain,
once you experience it, you realize you are capable of much more than you
thought. While that thought may not be a pleasurable experience, it will change
you and how you view what you do.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTggecTiCSAabqcHjjkdlUwh84akuuaLYLJnpQ_ssejxI3aM0VlKfrgtWJ8HkIkCjGxGWXd78gf-PJRe3sQNj7z8OGqLZRNyv5NgNm4_JxYWxzU6lHtaMT69uHilOu1dEIU7CHCXdDPcC/s1600/IMG_4093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTggecTiCSAabqcHjjkdlUwh84akuuaLYLJnpQ_ssejxI3aM0VlKfrgtWJ8HkIkCjGxGWXd78gf-PJRe3sQNj7z8OGqLZRNyv5NgNm4_JxYWxzU6lHtaMT69uHilOu1dEIU7CHCXdDPcC/s400/IMG_4093.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super Awesome with a side of Tu-Tu!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">Running, rather my </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">pursuit</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"> of finishing that run from Squaw to Auburn has shown me how to improve my life, not just my time in an event. You push hard, let yourself regress while you build back up the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">strength</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"> to push past that previous limit again. Repeat this over and over like the waves in the ocean. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">Eventually you look back and realize the gains that have been made.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">In the last year I've come to realize how good I have it, how far I have come and of course, how far I have to go. For now though I'm content knowing I'm </span><b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">able</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">...
to do anything I wish, to run to my hearts content, to do
what I've always dreamed of, to love, to be loved, to sort through my
problems, to take care of, to be taken care of, to learn, to motivate, to lead,
to follow, to succeed and most importantly to fail. A lot of those things I was incapable of doing just 12 months ago. 12 months from now I hope to be better at all of those things and maybe add a couple new one's to the list.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">As the New Year approaches, you owe it to yourself to find one of the many things you've been putting off for so long and take the steps to make it happen.
I promise, this time next year, you'll be happy you did. Call it a resolution, a goal or a mid life crisis, but act on it. It may not turn out as
you envisioned, but you'll be proud of journey and all that came from it. Break
it into small steps, start with a plan and execute it. You are going to fail at
some point, but you have the power to get back up and fix the failings. It's at
that point the goal becomes a reality. I'm convinced, if you are committed enough to fail and get back up to try again, you are committed enough to succeed. You will get there, it is just a matter of time and considerable effort. </span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">2012- </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">She said yes! Feb 14th</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">1600 miles run</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">197,415 feet climbed</span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">Average pace of 4.4 MPH</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">W.S.
27h19m15s</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-68921132461264706072012-12-09T08:45:00.001-08:002012-12-09T08:45:50.458-08:00California International Marathon 2012I've run a lot of miles in the last 3 years. One thing I'm consistently amazed about this sport, is one's ability to learn from every run. I've raced 7 marathons and another 8 ultra-marathons in the last 3 years. I've run further than 26.2 miles 17 times this year alone, in various training runs and races. You would think, with that amount of training at the distance, I would be fairly proficient at it. You would, of course, be wrong about that. <br />
<br />
I certainly do not discount the distance, in fact I have a huge amount of respect for any marathon or marathoner, but let's be honest here. I've run, twice now, 100 miles. Both of those races were over entire mountain ranges, at altitude and in conditions that most would not find favorable. I can run 26 miles, and within an hour of finishing, be ready for any challenge life can throw at me, be it physical or mental as long as I <u>pace</u> myself. I've even joked to friends that I could finish a marathon hungover or gasp....still drunk. I may or may not have partied a little too hard for this years Rockin River Marathon in Reno, the result of which spawned my idea to run to the event from my house and over the spine of Peavine mountain, adding an extra 8 miles to the endeavor.<br />
<br />
Yet with all this experience, I had never actually trained for, and raced, a marathon. I've always had "bigger" for lack of a better word, goals for each of my marathons. I treated all of them except my virgin one in 2004, like training runs. No taper, no specificity of training, just go out there and do it.<br />
<br />
Upon leaning that the "Doc", who was 1/4 of my outstanding crew for Western States was running CIM, and looking for her Boston Qualifying time of 3:35, I made it a point to get my rear in gear and race. I trained well for CIM this year. I had a lot of speed training and plenty of 20+ milers to get myself into good shape.<br />
<br />
The Doc, my lovely wife to be, and I set out for Sacramento last Saturday hoping mother nature would grant us 3.5 hours of great weather. My goal was to help get the Doc her BQ, and to somehow repay the massive debt I felt I owed for her giving up 30+ hours of her life so I could accomplish a dream at Western States. We were warned numerous times that things would not be as we hoped. Before we hit I-80 a massive killer tumble weed nearly wrecked us, then just past Gold Ranch a ladder was on the freeway and seconds later a huge truck from which the ladder fell, was off to the side. The driver was standing in the middle of the slow lane screwing with his vehicle. Once we got to Sacramento the adventure to get to the convention center started with a torrential rain storm the likes only seen from near the equator. It was at that point I realized this would not be the typical marathon experience. This would be my third CIM. I was trained properly and racing for the first time, of course the weather was going to be sloppy, messy and difficult! Those who know me well, will undoubtedly understand this next statement.<br />
<br />
I love bad weather! My days spent in a downhill suit alpine skiing prepared me for anything mother nature can throw at me. Trust me on this one, being in a 100% spandex suit and sitting on a chairlift in below freezing temps with no other clothing to speak of for half an hour, just plain sucks. Add to that the fact you just expended the most amount of energy you can in 2.5 minutes, you are in a snow storm, and your ass is sticking to the chair, you tend to toughen up pretty quickly.<br />
<br />
So upon the news that CIM would be wet and windy I was, of course, overjoyed. I'm rarely one to scoff at things getting more difficult, I relish in the enjoyment of beating the circumstances as much as I do the accomplishment of the goal. Plus, I ran from Squaw Valley to Robinson Flat in far worse weather (I thought) and had a blast, there was no way measly Sacramento weather was going to derail me.<br />
<br />
We got to the hotel and found out that we got a free VIP tent at the start for purchasing the room. We made a quick video for our friend who's birthday party we were missing, watched the movie TED and turned the lights off around 10. As has been my unfortunate routine nearly everyday for almost 6 months now I slept very little. Maybe 2 solid hours of sleep, and a lot of hamster power turning the wheels attempting to get back to sleep before the alarm went off at 4:30 AM. To say the least, I've been having horrendous sleeping issues since July. It is what it is and my refusal to take any kind of medication, or reduce the stress of my life means I just have to deal with it as best I can. Fortunately I've never been one that needs a lot of sleep so most of the time it is a non issue. I generally just chalk it up to yet another circumstance to overcome, it may be a fact but it is never an excuse. I hate that word and I cringe anytime I hear someone use it.<br />
<br />
The alarm went off and I got dressed, had my pre-race bagel and cream cheese and we made our way to the bus that would take us to the start. Upon arrival we made our way to the VIP tent which was fantastic, we then learned we had our own potties! It was fabulous. We had an hour to kill and I started probing the Doc to see where her head was at. The tent was rocking back and fourth, winds were at least 35mph + and it was raining quite hard. We talked about the possibility of not making the goal, I tried to inject enthusiasm for the conditions into the conversation. The weather was in reality, much worse than what I experienced at Western States and rivaled all but my worst training days in the snow over the years. Any person who started this race has earned my respect, the conditions were brutal.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0srsmb_NKDrOH9GV9Uuzh2fMzWgP7yCQmL4W90lsqaaGUnCQipGMvsai-59ccWJ7O4S4go__T9I3yQX73K6QpmDkvPzg14BaptLRXbQl-PISNK7S4cDTamHMMv7nTHnhpjamup9YxOQL8/s1600/CIM+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0srsmb_NKDrOH9GV9Uuzh2fMzWgP7yCQmL4W90lsqaaGUnCQipGMvsai-59ccWJ7O4S4go__T9I3yQX73K6QpmDkvPzg14BaptLRXbQl-PISNK7S4cDTamHMMv7nTHnhpjamup9YxOQL8/s400/CIM+2012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CIM 2012, a fantastic 26.2 mile adventure!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We made our way out to the start and I could not contain my enjoyment. I was bouncing around like a little kid going to the park for the first time. The gun went off and I took off. It was wet and messy for most of the race. I ditched my jacket and poncho around mile 2 just after I lost sight of the Doc, and ran the rest of the race in a shirt and shorts with arm sleeves. I passed the half marathon mark in a personal best time. I was hauling ass! Twice I saw my friends Scott and Michelle on the side of the road cheering all the Reno runners and each time it was a massive boost in the speed department. They were braving the weather to cheer me on, certainly I could go a bit faster.<br />
<br />
I had caught myself numerous times running near the middle of the road by the reflectors that separate lanes. I kept telling myself not to go there because of the slight chance I might hit one, in that perfect little spot on my left foot that has derailed me 3 times now. Unfortunately I kept ending up right back there because it was the one place there was little to no water. Cars do not travel on that part of the road very often so there are no indentations from the weight of them, unlike a foot to either side of that line. I passed mile 17 and realized if I ran the next 8 miles at a 10 minute pace I was going to finish the marathon in a personal best, and minute under my goal time.<br />
<br />
It was at this point I got cocky, I had this in the bag. 9 miles to go nothing was going to stop me. No reason to worry about the road or the conditions at this point, I mean, what could happen? Yep I had that exact thought, I figured I'd run far too many miles to need to worry about anything at this point.<br />
<br />
A couple minutes later I found myself once again running near the little reflectors on the road in a pack of 5. You might be able to guess by now what happened, I stepped on one of the square road reflectors and despite the ample cushioning of my <a href="http://hokaoneone-na.com/stinson-detail-men.html" target="_blank">Hoka One One</a> shoes I popped that freaking toe out of the socket once again. I did the same thing back in February while in Physical Therapy for my Plantar Faciitis. That time, my therapist did it trying to stretch the toe, this time an idiotic cocky me, did it to myself. Instantly I yelled out Mother F&^%*R! The pack of 5 turned their heads as I made my way to the side of the road, I apologized as they ran away.<br />
<br />
I knew then my day of racing was over and the question was now what to do about the toe. I've had this happen enough times (3 in the last 14 months) that I knew it's a pain tolerance thing. I could finish without damaging anything but it was going to hurt, each step would push the toe in an uncomfortable direction. The only thing that can be done is to pull it straight out and pop it back into place, which once done leaves me unable to run for quite a few days. Nearly every step I take on a run I am mindful of this possibility and up until this last mile I've paid great attention to where I foot strike. My damn mentality caused me to make the decision that nothing could happen on the road and boy was I wrong about that. I kept jogging for a bit and pulled over to the side of the road at about 18.5 miles to walk. Just then my buddy whom I will be pacing at AR 50 next year came up and patted me on the back.<br />
<br />
"Are you injured or are you hurting" he asked then motioned me to get back in the game. I thought about this for a second and said some kind of jibberish "um not sure uh....ok I'll keep up". I started running again just under 9 minute pace like he was. I had this almost epic surge of adrenalin and for about 3 minutes I thought there was no reason I could not handle the pain for 7 more miles. However, the body has a strange way of coping with pain. It finds, most of the time without your knowing, the least possible path of resistance. I was favoring the foot by using my other leg to push off of more so than normal. This, combined with my fast start and already tired state, and now loss of the adrenalin started the cramping in my good leg. I chose to slow down and let my friend go. I said I was sorry but I had to slow down and wished him well. I'm pretty sure he got himself a PR in all that slop, and he looked great when I saw him. I was psyched at how well he was running.<br />
<br />
I continued on jogging and walking at random intervals as best I could and just enjoyed the last 7 miles of the course. The rain stopped about 3 miles from the finish, the sun came out and the day turned beautiful. I never saw the Doc after mile 2, given the conditions she had an excellent run. Not a BQ, but not many people were running their best out there on that day. I can say for certain in the coming years she will take great joy in telling friends and family about her adventure at CIM 2012, as will most everyone who raced that day.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
I finished in 4 hours and 10 minutes, and despite all the issues and weather, it was my favorite marathon I've ever run. I've grown a lot in the last 3 years, I did not accomplish my goal, but one thing all these foot issues has taught me is that it is a blessing to be able to run. Any day I run, even a little bit, is a good day no matter how bad things might get. I've spent roughly 16 months out of the last 36 wanting to run and not being able for various reasons. 3 years ago I would have considered the day a failure, a goal not met, months of training worthless and I would have beat myself up for weeks or months. Those last 7 miles hurt, I was limping pretty bad by the time I got to the finish. However, the slower pace allowed me to take in the moment, I saw so many people living their dream and accomplishing their goals much like I did at Western States this year. Those last 7 miles reminded me that goals are great, they focus you, but at the same time they can eliminate your ability to recognize the greatness that is happening around you every minute of the day. This day I was fortunate to have been out there in epic weather watching so many people push their limits.<br />
<br />
In the end I'm going to look back on this day with great satisfaction, it was not my fastest race nor the furthest. I did not meet my goals. I experienced a lot of joy, some pain and a lot of rain and wind. The real gem though, is the knowledge that I really have turned the corner mentally and I'm on the right track. I'm back to being able to find the good in almost anything, somewhere in my twenties I lost that trait. I've learned from my time on my feet and I look forward to getting schooled once again, because, I'm quite certain, there will be another race or training run that goes wrong and I'll grow from it as well. It has been a week since CIM and today I went for my first run since. I popped my toe back into place shortly after the finish and other than being a little sore still, it is feeling fine and I think it is ready for some pounding.<br />
<br />
The Western States lottery was yesterday. It seems crazy that just a year ago I was on the verge of completing a goal that stood for 16 years. I sit here now today eager for the next one. I did not make it into the race this year but I will be a part of it come this June. For now my main goal for next year is to do all that I can to give my wife to be, the wedding she wants and deserves. I have a pretty crazy solo run I've been thinking about for 10 years that if everything falls just right I will attempt in August. For now though, I just look forward to my next run and all that I'll learn from it.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-34461333335355008262012-11-26T08:24:00.001-08:002012-11-26T08:24:26.457-08:006 Days to CIMI'm feeling good with only 6 day to go. I think 3:45 is a strong possibility with something under 3:40 possible if I have my best day out there. I've had an up and down training cycle these last two months but I can feel my form is much better than it has been in a year.<br />
<br />
I did 10-12 hard 8 mile tempo runs, 3 22+ mile training runs and I've run almost everyday at least a mile for the last 3 months. I was shooting for a running streak but i seem to get to about 30 days and i miss one. All told I've missed 3 days of running since Burning Man.<br />
<br />
Easily the most consistent 3 months of running I have ever had.<br />
<br />
On to Folsom on Saturday then a nice run to the California State Capitol on Sunday.<br />
<br />
Giddy up!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-46354388182678905402012-10-05T09:06:00.000-07:002012-10-05T09:17:46.870-07:00Week 1 of 6 to CIM<a href="http://www.runcim.org/" target="_blank">CIM</a> 26.2 Miles- December 2nd- Goal 3:34:59<br />
<br />
I made a resolution last year to try to keep up with the "Doc" at this years CIM so she could qualify for Boston. She was a scant 35 seconds from qualifying at this race last year so I know she is quite capable. Her time to beat is 3:35:00. My fastest marathon was at last years CIM 3:57:50. That is a huge drop in time, and if my last couple workouts are any indication I'm no where near the shape I should be in to get the job done. I'm up in weight since Western States cause the running has gone down and the the eating has stayed the same. I've been keeping runs under 10 miles and just a comfortable pace, exploring and generally just having fun with no purpose what so ever. It's been quite enjoyable actually, but now is the time to put down the fork and shot glass, follow a routine and get this body moving efficiently again.<br />
<br />
The Doc (and three other brave souls) crewed me exceptionally at States, put up with a couple of my temper tantrums, rain and a lot of waiting around for little ole me, so I am dead set on returning the favor. If I can get my fitness up to it, I'd like to pace her the first 20 then hang on for dear life the last 10k.<br />
<br />
So I have 6 weeks to train hard for CIM, then a 10 or so day taper. I'm going to try to stick to a strategy that worked for States with some Marathon tweaks. 3 premium workouts a week with easy paced runs filled in between. Instead of hill days it will be speed work, which I can already tell you I'm going to have a rough go with. The long runs of up to 24 or so miles will be done at a pace that will be uncomfortable but not so fast it's a tempo run and the other workout is going to be an 8 to 10 mile tempo run. I'm going to shoot for one session a week of plyometrics, bounding and strength training, hopefully that will be enough. In any event it will be a much different type of fitness level after 6 weeks than I've had in years and I look forward to the results, but I'm a bit scared of the journey. This is going to be a much different type of pain than training for 100 miles. I've done that solely for 2+ years now, my body is accustomed to slowing down when it gets tired. Trying to redline it for 3+ hours seems like a tall order. A goal though, I am excited to go for. I do not see any 100 mile races on the horizon for a while, so I'd like to take this time off from them to get faster.<br />
<br />
So on tap for this weekend is a 15-20 mile run to see where my long run fitness is at and develop some paces to train at to get me to the goal. Then come Monday morning, back onto the training wagon!<br />
<br />
Side note...<br />
<br />
I love Electronic music, it's 95% of what I listen to and always what I have on when I run. This set by Daft Punk from 1997 is one of the first times I ever heard music of this type, and it was all over after that. This is an absolute GEM from way back in the day.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.edmtunes.com/2012/10/daft-punk-bbc-radio-1-essential-mix-02-03-1997/" target="_blank">Daft Punk Radio 1 Essential Mix</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-81280577158423052082012-08-17T08:49:00.000-07:002012-08-17T08:49:22.576-07:00Green Gate to AuburnIt was deep into the night when Goldie started talking about this memorial. It was built for a runner who was killed by a mountain lion on the trail some years ago. I'd heard about it but never seen it. We both wanted to show our respect to a fallen comrade. Of course, as was the case the entire night, neither of us knew exactly where we were, or where what we were looking for, was. We rounded a bend and saw some lights. I realized we had almost reached ALT. We had left Green Gate about an hour and a half earlier. I was excited to get to some food and see if I could put anything down.<br />
<br />
<b>Auburn Lake Trails ALT (85.2 miles) 3:56am</b><br />
Per our routine Goldie slowed down and told me to go ahead. The aid station was only a couple hundred yards around the bend, so I scampered as fast as I could to it. We had gained another 10 minutes on my splits and were now up 1:52. Upon entering I was greeted by a medic who escorted me to the scale. Like clockwork I was still hovering right around 189. I had trouble standing still on the scale because my feet hurt. I got off the scale and had this conversation with the medic.<br />
<br />
Medic:"are you feeling OK".<br />
Me: Jokingly "you'll need to talk to my slave driving pacer..she's kicking my ass with all this running" as I rocked back and forth and side to side.<br />
Medic: "You need to sit down" he exclaimed.<br />
Me: "No thanks, I need to get out of here no time to waste"<br />
Medic: "No really, you are hypoglycemic, I need you to sit down"<br />
Me: "Hypo what.....? I'm fine, just need to get some food."<br />
Medic: "Sit down and I'll get you some"<br />
Me: "No! I'm fine, why do you think I am not?"<br />
Medic: "You cant even stand up on your feet, please sit down."<br />
Me "No, talk to my pacer, I'm doing fine, I just have some blisters that hurt".....I left him and went to the food table.<br />
<br />
At that point Goldie showed up and I overheard her and the medic talking. Something about he's fine he just has bad blisters and is having trouble standing still. A couple of seconds later they both came over to me and I started to get very defensive. Goldie asked me how I was doing and I once again said fine. I looked at the medic and he did something that is generally not wise if you want me to stay calm. Tell me I can't do something.<br />
<br />
Medic: "Look you won't make it 20 feet out of this aid station in the state you are in"<br />
Me: Then how the (might have been an bad word thrown in here) did I just run 30 miles on these feet?<br />
Medic: I'll need to see your feet then.<br />
<br />
I looked at Goldie and said "I'm done, I can not make this decision, what do I do?" I'm not even sure Goldie had a chance to say anything before I realized I could do nothing. He was not going to let me leave so I just had to give in and sit down. He grabbed a chair and took off my left shoe, took my sock off and nodded.<br />
<br />
Medic "Yep you got some blisters there"<br />
Me: Holding back swear words and not nice things...."yep"<br />
Medic: "Let me redress this."<br />
Me: "No.....ahhh whatever."<br />
<br />
I'd finally given in to the chair and the medic. He redressed the wounds (poorly I might add) that the awesome foot doc had given me at Michigan Bluff and put the shoe back on. Meanwhile Goldie had grabbed some fruit and broth for me to sip. On the bright side, those went down just fine, my stomach was back. Then the medic grabbed my other foot and did the same. Once he finished, they got me back on my feet and I was shivering like you could not believe. Goldie and the medic escorted me over to the bonfire and wrapped me up with one of those silver emergency blankets.<br />
<br />
You could not imagine what was going through my head. I'm sitting there shivering with 15 miles to go. It's a good thing I was shivering because I was shaking my head because I was so mad. I have dreamed of this race for half my life, and I'm basically sitting around a campfire like a third grader listening to campfire stories. This was not the way I had imagined things. The medic kept saying "you have a ton of time just rest a bit" or something close to that. I finally could not take it anymore and stood up and said "lets do this".<br />
<br />
<i><b>Before I move on from this, I need to make it clear that the medic did everything right. He was wise to question me. I do not doubt for a minute that runners will attempt to deceive them so they can leave and in doing so put themselves at a health risk (I know I would). The race is then at risk, the medic himself is also at risk, should something actually go wrong. He and I both could have handled things much better, heck had I even known at that point what hypoglycemic meant (low sugar) I could have eaten a ton of fruit to shut him up. This was confusion by circumstance, thinking back on it afterwards, it just adds to the flavor of the experience. I would be wise to remember this the next time I have a conflict with a volunteer at a race.</b></i><br />
<b><i><br /></i>
<i>That being said, I do not know how long I was there but it felt like 20-30 minutes. It may have been 5 or 15 really, but the fact I lost nearly 20 minutes on my next split, leads me to believe it was a while. The grand total of sitting on my rear end because of the blisters at Michigan Bluff and ALT was easily over an hour.</i></b><br />
<br />
Goldie and I set out down the hill leading to the the next aid station at Browns Bar. I had a full head of angry steam built up. My feet now hurt again because of the redressing, as well as having been off them for so long. Normally when I am really mad I have a rush of adrenaline that I just can not handle. This time it was much different. I went from coherent and an adult, to totally discombobulated and a young child at that aid station. The frustration of the aid station zapped all my strength and energy. The entire race I had strategically run well, now I had no ability to think. I could not make a decision, and could barely answer questions when Goldie asked them. Our conversations consisted of 1 to 4 word answers from me. This was now the time Goldie was going to earn her keep. I would need her from here on out to get me through to the finish. I was in no shape to do it myself, at this point.<br />
<br />
I do not remember much about this section other than it being green and full of trees. We kept looking for the monument but did not see it. What I do remember is for the first time since Michigan Bluff someone passed me, he was being paced by a local runner from Reno. This older gentleman known for running with a feather in his cap is a fantastic runner, something of a legend in Reno, and he really had his runner moving along. I could not keep up. We passed them about a mile later and I had brief thought of being a stud for having run them down, only to realize they must have just pulled off to go to the bathroom. They promtly passed me a minute after I had passed them, then they were gone and Goldie and I were alone again.<br />
<br />
<b>Browns Bar (89.9 miles) 5:28am</b><br />
Finally after about an hour we started to hear the Browns Bar aid station. Like many of the aid stations the volunteers here were up all night. They are known for playing loud rock music and having a couple of drinks while they work. Once again we pulled into the aid station with me in front and Goldie meeting me a minute or two later. I was now only up 1:37 on my splits, I had lost 15 minutes over those 4 miles. I actually think we ran faster than we had been so I would say 20 minutes is about right, all from the last aid station. I was able to get some broth and some cookies down and refilled my pack. I was starting to have a really hard time getting moving at this point.<br />
<br />
We reached the road by the river that leads to the quarry and it started to get light outside. Goldie could sense my mental demise and she actually started asking me if I wanted to stop and walk. My response would always be the same. "Yes please, could we please?", I had officially become a child mentally. I finally, after one of the many stops apologized to Goldie. "I'm so sorry for how slow we are going, I just feel horrible" I said. I figured what would come out of her mouth would be something like, "that's OK, just keep chugging along". However, that is not what she said.<br />
<br />
Goldie looked back at me almost angrily and said. "You do NOT feel horrible, you are still running. You are doing great, now take a gel and lets go!" Tough love, but ohhhhh so correct. She was right, I really did not feel any worse than say the last 2-3 hours, I just was stuck thinking about it, every step I took. Probably because I was low on energy, hence her telling me to take a gel. Once again, the experience she had in her head was truly magnificent. It's crazy how after that long expending energy time starts to blend together. Minutes can feel like hours, hours can feel like seconds and seconds can also feel like forever. I think it is highly mood based. It is so easy to get caught up on what is around you and forget about the things it takes for you to keep going. I hope someday I can pass along the knowledge I gained from this experience to someone else, and also one day, repay Goldie by running her into the ground!<br />
<br />
This road by the river sucks, it winds with the river and goes up and down. Nothing serious just enough to frustrate at 88 miles on your feet. We finally got to the point where you get back on to some single track and Goldie made her only mistake of the entire race. We slowed to a halt and she pointed up to the top of the mountain. She said "Brandon, your crew is right there waiting for you, we are almost there"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Crew at Hwy 49 Aid Station about 5 in the morning.</td></tr>
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<br />
I looked at Goldie with what I would imagine was a most gruesome face. Like someone who just watched their dog get run over by a car in the street right in front of them. I said " That does not make me feel any better". What Goldie did not know was I am a data freak and I knew exactly how far and how far UP my crew was. 3 miles and 1500 feet of climbing. When she pointed to the spot, my initial thought was "great that's 3 miles, then I have another 7 to the finish.10 freaking miles is 1/10 of the race I still have a whole tenth of the race to go". I saw Goldie's face go from happy to "Oh crap what did I just do" in a split second. I felt so bad, but I could not get the words out to apologize. I knew she was just trying to get me fired up.<br />
<br />
Fortunately I still had climbing legs and we pushed the pace up that hill to my crew. All told, of my 3 training partners who all finished well ahead of me I climbed that section the fastest. Of course the fact I did not run the first 88 miles as fast surely is the reason but I was actually moving pretty quick. I do not remember a single thing about the climb until we got to the chain link fence separating us from the quarry. You could hear the cars from the road and Goldie yelled out "we are here Brandon".<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the point I was done with running.</td></tr>
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<br />
We had finally hit the point where I no longer wanted to run, I had assumed I was far enough in front of the cutoff's that I could walk it in. This is what I love most about 100 mile races, they break you mentally and physically. I've learned through the years that I like to push my limits and see where I break. Most people have never seen me just give up, it is a very rare event. Both hundreds I've run though, I reached that point. The point where I said enough is enough, I quit. This day at Western States I made it 93.4 miles before I gave up, I know the exact place I made the decision I did not want to run anymore. About 40 feet before we crossed Hwy 49 to get to the aid station. I saw my crew and all I wanted to do was sit with them. I wanted Queen Doom to hold me and tell me that everything was alright. I wanted the race to be over, the pain to stop, but mostly I wanted someone to supply me with a reason to make stopping OK.<br />
<br />
<b>Hwy 49 Aid Station (93.5 miles) 6:33am</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get this pack off of me, get me weighed and let me sit down!</td></tr>
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<br />
We entered the aid station and had gained back 28 minutes on my splits giving us a cool buffer of 2 hours and 5 minutes on them. It was morning now and my crew looked great. I, however, felt like someone hit me with a truck and kept backing up and pulling forward over me with every step. I got on the scales and hit my mark then turned around and walked over to Queen Doom. The emotions of the night, the fact I was just over 6 miles from the finish and the sight of my friends who were crewing me was too much to handle. I wanted to continue on, but by walking not running. I just did not see the point. I had made a promise to my crew that at this aid station I would put on a TuTu in thanks for their efforts through the day and night. I went over to them and they put it on the ground and asked me to step into it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7UT4aY1UNYAcGeg7Sqr9IxXX3YGbdMhalwxy21lbZauABxBcKEAQk9JfkNjtsu7Erv_bC1-NAjQw7LoYTQwflm7jtGmTLdL-WR-GxjW3N_g7nWDjBm0tMZKAvMYmg5LbxlzE3ydle7CX/s1600/IMG_4090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7UT4aY1UNYAcGeg7Sqr9IxXX3YGbdMhalwxy21lbZauABxBcKEAQk9JfkNjtsu7Erv_bC1-NAjQw7LoYTQwflm7jtGmTLdL-WR-GxjW3N_g7nWDjBm0tMZKAvMYmg5LbxlzE3ydle7CX/s400/IMG_4090.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not my happy face.</td></tr>
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<br />
I just looked at them and said "no, I cant lift my feet that high you have to put it on over my head". I now had entered into the wussy stage of my run. I'm standing there looking at them just hoping someone says that I look so bad I should stop. Of course no one does. More words of wisdom come flying out of Goldie's mouth. "Take your pack off you are going light the rest of the way. Take this hand bottle. I want you to drain that by the time we get to the next aid station. I need you to drink Brandon".<br />
<br />
Jesus, can anyone just take some pity on me? Do any of you know how bad I feel right now, I kept thinking to myself. Of course they knew, but like a great crew and pacer they also knew how much this meant to me and that I just was not thinking clearly. I was in no health danger I just felt bad, exhausted, like everyone does at this point. That is what having a great pacer and crew is all about, they keep you going even when you do not want to, or, do not think you can. At that moment I did not think it possible for me to take another running step.<br />
<br />
With TuTu and hand bottle, I left for the steep incline out of the aid station. All I could hear was my crew cheering for me. "You are going to finish Brandon", one of them yelled. I heard it, I felt it, I realized at that moment, yes I was going to finish and complete my dream. Instantly my mood went from sour to not so sour. I did a little booty shake with the TuTu. Later I was told by my crew they were very worried about me the entire time I was at that aid station until that moment, then they all turned around an knew I was OK. I was coming back from the dead so to speak.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading out of the aid station.</td></tr>
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<br />
You have to climb up this steep but short hill leaving Hwy 49. We crested the top to the beautiful meadow and saw another runner. All through the night we had been literally right in between two packs of runners one on each side of us. We were faster than the trailing pack and not quite as fast as the leading one. We really did not see anyone on the trail save for just a few. Seeing a runner got me a little bit jazzed and we started jogging. Mood shifts happen often and quickly in these races if you could not tell all ready. We passed the runner and his pacer, said "good job" and moved on. Goldie was now pushing the pace more than I could handle and I was getting irritated. Not at her, just at the fact I could not keep up. She asked if I wanted to stop and walk and in a very snarky way I said "you do know what the answer is, if you ask me that........don't you?" Fortunately she did not drop me right there.<br />
<br />
A couple minutes later the second runner to pass me since Michigan Bluff, blew right past me. This lady was running so hard and fast and I could not fathom how she was doing it. Goldie looked at me and knew, there was no way I could muster that kind of effort at that point. We let her go and I never saw her again. Somehow Goldie kept me moving swiftly. I did not want to run, heck I did not want to even walk fast, but whatever methods she used she kept me going at a pretty fast pace. We walked often on this stretch, but really only for a couple of steps then she would start an ultra jog. We rinsed and repeated this so many times and it worked, but I did not like much of this stretch.<br />
<br />
We finally hit No Hands Bridge and I filled my bottle, at least I was still listening to Goldie. She told me to drain it and I did. I knew now, with only 3.4 miles to go, exactly what I was in for. A tough climb to the next aid station then we run through Auburn on the street. We got to the base of the climb and Goldie told me to stay strong. I said something like, "you just make sure to tell me what I need to do and I'll do it." I had not yet gotten all my mojo back but I could feel it coming on. I knew once we crested that hill things would be alright.<br />
<br />
We got within a couple hundred feet of Robie Point, the last aid station just 1.3 miles away. I chose not to stop in favor of getting things over with. Goldie stopped to talk to one of the workers then ran up to me. She was so excited and said "Brandon, it's 8:05".<br />
<br />
I looked at her and said "what does that mean?" I was so out of it mentally, I could not figure out what time that was in the race. 27 hours was the actual race time, and Goldie just simply said "you are going to finish fast!" She meant, fast, as in way faster than my goal time, what I heard, was get going you need to finish fast. Still, like a child listening to their parent, I took off in a jog up the hill. She said something like "OK we can run if you want", but all I heard was RUN!<br />
<br />
I saw two of my crew members near the top of the hill, the Doc and Half Iron Woman had jogged down to meet me. I was so happy to have glasses on at this point and to be sweating profusely from the face. No one could tell I had tears falling from my eyes. Near the top of the hill there are flags hanging from a line way above our heads. Goldie had told me about this earlier and so I ran under the American flag kissed my hand and blew it up to the flag. Just like I did all day, I paid homage to the course one last time.<br />
<br />
Goldie and my two crew members were trailing me by a couple of feet. I remember Goldie saying something like "When I tell you too, run hard, Brandon". Like all night I did exactly what she said, and like most of the last hours I misinterpreted what she meant. I still thought I was close to the cut offs, I thought she was telling me to run for fear of things being too close. When Goldie yelled "RUN BRANDON" I took off like bull charging a matador. We were running down the street, I was breathing harder than at any point in the race, we made the final two turns and entered the track at Placer High School. I saw Scotch Man to the side of the track but I did not stop for him. I could not hear anything, I had tunnel vision. All I knew was I had to get to that line as quick as possible. I ended up dropping my crew on the track! I rounded the last turn on the track and saw the timing board.<br />
<br />
<b>Placer High School Track, Auburn CA (100.2 Miles) 8:19:15am</b><br />
What the hell? I thought to myself, that is not right they must have started it late. 27 hours 19 minutes 0 seconds the clock read as I ran towards it. I'm in complete disbelief, there is no way with the day I had I was nearly 3 hours ahead of the 30 hour cutoff. I ran through the finish in 27:19:15 (thank you cool weather!). <br />
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I did my happy dance that I had been waiting so long to do on that track. My first coach AJW, was there to give me my medal. Just like he did at my first 50 mile race.<br />
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Queen Doom was there to greet me in the medic tent as they took some vitals. I hugged her. I said something I have been waiting to say for so long. "I'm so proud of myself, we did it baby. We actually got me to the finish line, can you believe it?" That hug lasted a century and it's my most happy moment of the entire event. This singular event had morphed from a solo mission, to a team of people helping me achieve something I wanted so badly, the chief driving force of that group was Queen Doom.<br />
<br />
The next 15 minutes were the most perfect of my life. My entire crew was there waiting for me, many people from Reno Running and Fitness were there cheering me on and to my surprise a lot of my burning man friends had made the trip down so early in the morning to share in my accomplishment.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Deyglofarians!</td></tr>
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<br />
I said some hello's and got some hugs, took pictures and such. Then right there just off to the side of the finish area I sat down (which hurt like hell) and took off my shoes. My feet were an absolute mess, but I did not care. My rear end hurt like nothing I have ever felt (and would for weeks), my legs were sore, but all I could do was sit there and bask in the glory of accomplishing my goal. I'd have gladly taken 10 times the pain for that moment. Knowing all the issues I'd overcome in the three years of running, it was all worth it for that moment of greatness. This was the most epic thing I'd ever done. I'd stayed true to myself, I battled everything life threw at me and I finally had come out the other side successful. I would imagine each and every runner felt like I did. I've learned so much from this experience and I have so many to thank (that will have to be a post on it's own).<br />
<br />
I never intended running to become a permanent fixture in my life. I started this with the goal of finishing States and moving on. I learned, that I really love to run, and I love to run far. I'm never going to be an elite athlete at this sport, the best I can hope to achieve is constantly challenging myself. I now know, I do not need to be the best out there to be proud, I just need to be the best that I can be. I had all these epiphanies while on that 27 hour run. They may seem small to you, but they are my own mountains to conquer. Devil's Thumb and the other climbs were not the only hurdles I needed to get over this day. It's really true what they say, in a 100 mile foot race you will go through a lifetime of emotions. I'll also add, if you are fortunate enough to get to the finish you will be a better person than when you started.<br />
<br />
Sitting at that finish on the grass with so many friends around me I finally figured something out. I knew right then and there, I needed to change. I no longer could hold onto the regrets I'd had for so many years. I needed to cut myself some slack. Had I not gone through those things, I would not be here today. Today I loved exactly where I was, who I was, and everyone who was around me.<br />
<br />
I am going to do some outrageous things in running for the rest of my life. I intend on pushing myself beyond my current limits to see what happens. I have plans already for my next run and while it will not live up to this one (I doubt any run ever will), it will be special in it's own right. I feel like there is a whole new world of possibilities that I am capable of achieving, and that's a hell of a place to be 1/3 of the way through my life.<br />
<br />
I will be back someday and I will get that Silver 24 hour "100 miles in 1 day" buckle! But for now....this one looks damn good!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bronze 100 mile buckle! </td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0Auburn, CA, USA38.8965654 -121.076890138.8471334 -121.1558541 38.9459974 -120.9979261tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-40407607238774584562012-08-06T13:58:00.000-07:002012-08-06T13:58:13.109-07:00Foresthill to Green Gate<b>1/4 mile out of the Foresthill Aid Station 9:24pm</b><br />
<br />
2 minutes, Who's on the clock? Goldie my pacer yelled.<br />
<br />
I was sitting down, trying to figure out how to eat the rest of my Subway Sandwich. The "Doc" was massaging my shoulders and neck and while it felt so good, it was relaxing me and I was afraid it would make me sleepy. After all, I had been running at that point since 5am, it was dark and we still had 38 miles to go. She was great, she knew exactly what she was doing. I felt bad for saying no to her each time she asked if she could rub this or that, but the reality was I needed to get out of there. Goldie was on point and raring to go.<br />
<br />
I saw that my Garmin watch was about to die and I had another little temper tantrum that ended up in me throwing the watch at the chair. These were still the effects of the forgotten bag at Michigan Bluff. I was going to charge my watch while I ran to Foresthill. Since I could not, my watch died and I lost all the data for the run. It's a bummer but not having the watch was one of the better things that could have happened. I had no idea what time it was from when we left my crew until 1.3 miles from the finish. I spent the next 37 miles thinking I was near the cutoffs, basically scared to walk.<br />
<br />
Goldie finally could not take it anymore and insisted we leave, this was why I asked her to pace me. Not only had she run this race before and finished, but I had heard she was very no nonsense pacer. She was an experienced hundred miler. I knew she would not be intimidated by me. After spending so many hours with her I can say for certain.....nobody intimidates Goldie! I tried briefly and she put me in my place. We are talking about one very trail tough chic. The second we got away from my crew she broke everything down for me. "You are going to eat and drink when I tell you to. Don't ask anyone what time it is, leave that to me." Basically saying let me do my job and get you to the finish as fast as possible, you worry about running. I am something of a control freak, so having someone take my destiny into their hands is not a comforting thought. I'm not sure if Goldie knew all this but she was great at comforting me and keeping me posted on what she needed from me. Basically that meant eat drink and follow!<br />
<br />
She wanted to be careful about our pace so we took it easy on Cal street (16 mile stretch mostly downhill to the river). I think she realized that I had run much harder to Foresthill from Michigan Bluff than I should have, and she did not want to exacerbate the problem by letting me keep up the torrid pace. I, of course was oblivious to this. I remember thinking when we left my crew that it must be 11pm and we were within 45 minutes of the cutoff. Of course the reality was we were an hour and a half ahead of that time. I wanted to run. She held me back. I remember one moment very clearly. Roughly a mile from Foreshill you enter the trail that takes you down to the river. We stopped because I had to go to the bathroom. Once finished, she barked out some orders, and I immediately made the decision to turn off my brain and do everything Goldie said. I'm not sure why, at that moment, I suddenly became comfortable with giving up the control but I did. The next 10 hours all I did was focus my headlamp on her feet and try to match my foot steps with hers. I drank when she told me, did what she said at aid stations and hoped I was man enough to keep up. Goldie is in my running circle of friends and the last thing I wanted was to have her go telling everyone what a whining whimpering wussy I was! I stayed quiet, and just ran. It was a freaking beautiful thing.<br />
<br />
As we made our way down the endless switchbacks towards the river the steeper sections were really tearing up my feet. It did not really hurt at this point unless we stopped. Standing still caused the most pain so I would rock back, forth, left and right when we were still. It felt like not being on any one part of the foot for very long, much like when you run, was the most painless way. About 15 miles from where we were, those actions would have me back in a chair again. This time having the medic look at my feet against my wishes and losing valuable time on the clock.<br />
<br />
<b>Dardanelles (Cal 1 Mile 65.7) No time Split</b><br />
<br />
We hit Cal 1 quickly it seemed to me and I remember saying "wow that did not take long at all" This is akin to saying "boy everything is going perfectly!" You know what happens next. Things started taking a damn long time. It felt as though the second I said that I got tired. All the sudden minor rolls that were easy to run over got difficult. I was still able to run through this section for the most part, but it was much more difficult than it should have been.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile Goldie and I had developed a great pattern. She would tell me to drink, not sip, fill my entire mouth up with water and breath through my nose. Not only did this keep me hydrated but breathing through my nose as we ran, kept me at the perfect effort level to sustain a jog. I think we probably moved at about 11 minutes a mile, a little less on the downs. I would jog until one of three things happened, either I had to pee again, we hit a hill to walk or when I just could not take it anymore and needed a small breather. I knew the more small breathers I took cost me time and increased the likelihood I was a wuss. So I tried to only pull that card with her when I absolutely felt like I needed to walk. Near the end of the race I did think for a second about just saying I had to pee to walk but figured I would get caught and then I'd have to hold it until the finish.<br />
<br />
<b>Peachstone- (Cal 2 Mile 70.7) 11:29 pm</b><br />
Down more switchbacks and up a couple of hills and we finally pulled into Cal 2. We had gained 38 minutes in those 8 miles back on my splits and were up almost an hour and 40 minutes. We made the 10 miles in 2 hours, not usually a blistering time but after 70 miles I am quite happy with that. The 62 mile mark was the start of the 9 hour walk of death at TRT last year and we were past that. I, of course being without a watch, did not know this. All I knew was, it was dark and if I did not leave quickly I was losing valuable time. It was right about here Goldie nailed down an aid station pattern for us. She would tell me just before the aid to go on ahead. She would wait or go to the bathroom and I had until she finished up at the aid station before we had to leave. I would scramble like hell to get into the aid stations, grab my food or drink sit down and gobble up as many calories as possible. She would show up, get her food and liquids handled, and about a minute later off we went. She would ask what I ate and drank and I gave a detailed description. Then we ran, at some point a half hour to 45 minutes later and about 10 times of her telling me to "DRINK.....FILL YOUR MOUTH BRANDON" those words would be replaced by "TAKE A GEL...NOW DRINK".<br />
<br />
I really can not communicate how little I had to think about other than expending effort to run. It was awesome. There is a very steep hill bewteen this point and the river and neither of us could remember exactly where it was. It's called the Elevator Shaft and after having run down for so long it's a real bitch to get up at night. It twists and turns off two roads, and you really have no idea how far you have gone up it or where it goes until you are right at an intersection. I think doing this in the daylight like most of the elite athletes would be a small bit easier just from the aspect of being able to gauge your effort level vs distance. Goldie dropped me on this climb, this was the first hill I started to regress into my old slogging ways. I had no energy to get up it, my breathing was so labored and everything was hurting. It was also here that my rear end started to hurt. The missing skin was now growing and moving south. We were about 2 miles from the next aid station and I really needed some lube.<br />
<br />
<b>Rucky Chucky Near (The River Crossing Mile 78.1)</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just before we take to the ropes to cross the mighty American River!</td></tr>
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You can hear this aid station from pretty far away, so it tugs on your brain knowing you have a mile to go but see lights so close. By this point I knew my feet were thrashed and the water was not going to make it any better. My rear end was on fire and I just wanted to get somewhere to sit down. We entered the aid station up 1:42 and had gained another 4 minutes on my splits those 7 miles. I saw some friends at this aid station. My main goal was to find a jar of lube. I correctly shoved food in my mouth before I found the lube then grabbed the entire container off the table, got a huge gob and coated what needed to be coated. Ahhhhhh relief.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goldie at the other side of the river getting ready to run.</td></tr>
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The river felt so good. It woke me up, cooled my hot legs down and actually made my feet feel pretty good. At one point the river got up to my waist but for the most part the ropes were more of a luxury than a need. I had been a bit worried about the river crossing so a couple weeks before the race I went down the to the Truckee river in Reno and crossed it 20 times. This evening I would zip right across the river, I did not wait for Goldie as I climbed up the bank to the next aid station. I knew she would be right behind me and I wanted to take a brief rest before we hit the last tough climb of the race. Getting to the green gate aid station requires us to climb for almost 2 miles.<br />
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I sat down to go through my drop bag and fish out a clean long sleeve shirt. I did not have a change of shoes here and I wondered if I had would I have changed them. I still think doing only one shoe change was the way to go. Goldie came up the hill a minute or two later and I hurried to finish up. Feeling rejuvenated by the magical water of the American River we set out on the last tough climb up to Green Gate. When we left, I saw a guy in a full on ballerina costume, pink tutu and all. My crew told me at Foresthill he came by almost an hour ahead of me which meant I had gained an hour on him in 16 miles. This was the first time during the night I had an inkling of understanding about my real pace. We took off up the hill and unlike on the Elevator Shaft, I had my climbing legs again and we pushed the pace quite a bit with some hard power hiking. At this point in the race there was no more running uphill, only slogging or power hiking. We got almost to the top and I realized I should have at least changed my socks. The wet socks, taped blisters and prune feet were starting to create a mess inside my shoes. I felt like I was walking with duct tape on my feet. The outer skin felt like it moved along the foot freely while the skin underneath held solid. We entered green gate to a medical ward like atmosphere. People were strewn all around the aid area in cots and chairs, most shivering from the river crossing. I was fortunate to have a bit more beef on me than most so I was pleasantly cool.<br />
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I had told Goldie in my team meeting that I wanted to go hard those last 20 miles. I knew I had a good finishing 7 miles but had been working hard all year to extend that to 20 miles. I told her to ride me as hard as she felt I could handle and as a great pacer should she did exactly that. The last 20 miles are mostly flat or downhill save for a couple of steep but short hills near the end. I tried some potato soup at the aid station and could not get it down, then I tried the broth and felt sick. It appeared at that point my stomach was finally fighting back and for the rest of the race I could no longer stuff my face full of anything I wanted. I needed to stick with easily digestible foods which meant gels. We took off into the darkness and I secretly was hoping that I had banked enough calories through out the day to get me to Auburn. I'm horrible at taking gels as my sole source of calories. I was figuring on a 6 hour last 20 miles, I knew that would be no less than 12 gels and if that is all I took, that probably was not going to be enough. however nothing could be done and we were about an hour away from the next aid station. I figured I'd try again at the next aid and if my stomach was still upset at that point I'd need to tell Goldie so we could come up with a plan. Fortunately by the time we got to the next aid station I could once again take in some broth and a little bit of fruit, however, unfortunately my feet would once again derail my progress and I was stuck in a chair, this time mostly against my will.<br />
<b><br /></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-75777222407684906892012-07-30T07:54:00.002-07:002012-07-30T09:17:09.254-07:00Devil's Thumb Climb-Foresthill<b>Bottom of Devil's Thumb (46 miles)</b><br />
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My legs felt like bricks and my quads felt like they were going into an anaerobic state. I passed a medical/sweeper at the bottom as well as a gentleman who kept passing me while I was in the aid stations. I had to do something to stop thinking about my body. I knew it was just a down time for me but if I kept thinking about it I was going to drive myself nuts. I popped in the other ear bud and adjusted my iPod to the one set of music I knew would fire me up. I set it so the mix would end in 50 minutes and told myself to get up the climb before it ended. With duel ear buds in, my world was now focused. I tried to think about the notes I made when I came down to this climb on my birthday in April. There were 3 switchbacks I felt comfortable hard power hiking and the rest I figured I would just get up as best I could. I knew this was mostly a state of mind type climb, it's difficult, steep and slow. However I'd been up it enough times that I knew I am in control of how I will feel going up it. Stay positive, have a good time and it will pass quickly, fret and be negative and its going to take forever.<br />
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The set hit 1:08:12 about 4 minutes into the climb, and the magic happened. This has never happened on a run, and only a few times in the car with no one watching. Epic thoughts of awesomeness filled my head, my confidence increased as the elevation did and I started hand dancing while power hiking. Hand dancing is basically what happens when you are sitting down and the music moves you so much you lose control of your upper limbs. I'm sure I looked like quite the fool to anyone watching me, but I did not care. In my normal non running life I would never make such a spectacle of myself for fear of looking stupid. On this day though, I needed to give in to whatever was working and working this was......I was hauling ass up that hill. I caught one person, then another. I got a "damn you are strong on the hills" comment from a guy I passed. With each successive pass confidence grew. Half way up the hill I started running, I ran 3 switchbacks on Devil's Thumb! I still get goosebumps when I think about the moment I realized, "I can finish this race". Up to that point, in all my training I never actually felt I could. 47 miles into a 100 mile race and I was just starting to hit my stride. I made my way up the remaining 15 or so switchbacks like a man possessed. All told I passed 12 people going up that hill. I rounded the last turn still absent from reality and firmly entrenched in my own world. I looked up to find two volunteers standing there with a worried look on their faces asking me if I was OK. I realized, a split second later, my hand antics probably looked to them, like I was convulsing from dehydration. I looked at them and tried to cover up my crazy ways by saying "I'm so happy to see you all, I do not think I'll ever have as easy a climb up that sucker again!"<br />
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<b>Devil's Thumb (47.8 miles) 5:06 pm</b><br />
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The second I hit the aid station they had me on the scale and once again I hit my mark this time at 188. I was now up an hour and 18 minutes on my splits. I gained nearly 45 minutes in 4 miles and all of it was due to my climbing abilities on the day. I do not have splits for the actual climb but I am positive I did it 10 minutes faster than I ever have in training. I made my way through the line up of food and grabbed a couple of pb&j's then made my way over to the popsicle area. I'd heard about this part of the race, on hot days it's truly a treat to have a popsicle. I took a minute or two to pose with some of the aid workers for pictures as they were all really excited to see my hair. They commented that I was one of the more upbeat runners that they had seen in a while. With sandwich and popsicle in hand I left the aid station. Within a couple hundred feet I noticed off to the left another porta potty. I had not had any issues since my last stop but felt it would be wise to take another minute to clean out any of the dirt and grime I may have missed. Thankfully this was the last time I needed to worry about sitting down to go to the bathroom, however the damage had been done and I was bleeding from the skin that had been rubbed off the previous 48 miles.<br />
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I still felt fresh and knew that my strategy was working, once again I chose to run slow on the huge downhill to El Dorado canyon where we would cross the river once again. I was starting to feel that hot spot I had up at Robinson grow into a full on blister and knew I needed to tend to it. However, I felt I could make it the 8 or so miles to Michigan Bluff where I would see my crew again. I took out one ear bud and made my way down the slope. I really was shocked to be running so well at this point, I was already 8 miles farther than my furthest run of the entire year and I felt like things were just starting to get good. I was passed by a couple of runners but for the most part I held my ground. I was fairly positive the climb up to Michigan Bluff would mirror the Devil's Thumb climb. I hit the bottom of the canyon and the ball of my left foot was on fire and my right heel was not far behind it. I had 2.5 miles and 2500 feet to climb. I knew at that point I would need to have a medic check the foot as I am not proficient enough on large blisters to take care of it myself, nor anyone on my crew. The blister felt like it ran the entire width of my foot on the ball portion. Fortunately for me Michigan Bluff is a major aid station and they had a world renown foot guy there to help out.<br />
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Feeding off my climb up Devil's Thumb I popped the other ear bud back in and once again set the music to some tunes that would fire me up. Izak Engel would lead me all the way up from his decks. I left for the climb behind a small Asian lady and an older gentleman. The Asian lady took off up the climb and left the two of us in the dust. "She's light we will not see her again" the older gentleman shouted. I really did not care, I had a plan. It's steep to the first dry creek about a mile in, this is where I take it easy. Once we hit the creek-bed I put a little giddy up in my step for the next .6 miles to the next creek-bed. At that point we are only a mile (22 minutes) from the aid station and it's all about getting up it in decent shape.<br />
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Just before we hit the first creek, I passed the older gentleman. He wished me well and I did the same. I now had a goal, I was going to catch that Asian lady by the top. I set off running up the hill. In April I could not run a single step of the climb, today I ran the entire .6 miles to the next creek. I passed the Asian lady just before it and kept on going! I felt that good. The trail gets steeper as you near the top and I slowed to a power hike. I was 1/10th of a mile from the top when it happened. I took a step and felt a rip in my shoe. Instantly my foot was wet and I realized I just ripped that blister right off the foot. There was now nothing but open skin on the ball of my foot, and every step I took with that foot, the dirt in the shoe was penetrating the wound. I slowed to an elderly walk. I could not believe how close I'd made it to Michigan Bluff before it happened. It took a good 5 minutes for the foot to go numb so I could run on it again. I hoofed it into Michigan Bluff still an hour an 35 minutes up on my splits. Even with the blister issue I demolished my personal best time up that climb by 5 minutes....I set that personal best after having run 2.5 miles back in April. I finally realized I was in better shape fitness wise than I had ever been in my short running life. I got on the scale and shouted to my crew that I needed to see the medic. Weight 189.<br />
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<b>Michigan Bluff (55.7 miles) 7:14 pm</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just to the right out of the picture is my Pacer from TRT.</td></tr>
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If I had a down point mentally it was during the events of the next 30 minutes. I sat down on the chair for the medic to deal with my feet, looked over to the right of me and my heart sank to the deepest depths of my body.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WRlnFQLb0hsaAxvOZqi7T7JAHP854shLjIn_ZiJniv9hiqh9RhLWawRHo5aJkznFUSdJD2H6g4hUhvslJTWjeTdTmzcblLYuXRYlTpwWsl6pfHP_vUJRub4CnQCjjEDvKRsW59wmqONg/s1600/IMG_4066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WRlnFQLb0hsaAxvOZqi7T7JAHP854shLjIn_ZiJniv9hiqh9RhLWawRHo5aJkznFUSdJD2H6g4hUhvslJTWjeTdTmzcblLYuXRYlTpwWsl6pfHP_vUJRub4CnQCjjEDvKRsW59wmqONg/s400/IMG_4066.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, My TRT Pacer and Big D pre-race 3/4ths of the my training partners all year.</td></tr>
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My pacer from TRT, one of my best running friends and a guy who was capable of finishing this race in 18 hours was sitting in the chair next to me. I started to get emotional and had I taken my glasses off at that point, you could have seen the tears starting to form as I realized something had gone terribly wrong with his day. Our eyes locked and though we did not say anything to each other we both felt what the other was feeling. I asked him how he was doing and the answer he gave is typical of his outlook on life. Most would complain, give excuses or in some way eschew responsibility of their demise off themselves. He simply said "today is not my day Brandon". Of course, I knew he was hurt, he was a good 5-6 hours slower than he should have been. Upon seeing me though, he got up and got back in the race. He later confided in me that if I had passed him he might have quit. I knew it then...we had a race on our hands. The only time I'd ever be a threat to him in a race was now!<br />
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He of course knew how competitive I am, he also knew that no matter if you are female, young, old, injured or special needs, if you are in front of me, I'm going to do everything in my power to beat you. He used that as motivation and would still finish the race limping the whole way in 26 hours. He limped for 81 miles, I respect him so much for sticking it out. Many would quit knowing the result was no where near their potential. I know he did not get the race he wanted, but I also know he found out a lot about himself that day and how deep he could dig. He will be back, and he will show the rest of the world what a brilliant mountain runner he is, I am certain of that.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy saved my race!</td></tr>
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The most pain I felt in the entire race was while the medic worked on my feet. He inserted the knife to cut the skin on 4 blisters on my left foot and 3 on my right.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great shot at the perfect time by Queen Doom.</td></tr>
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This took nearly 30 minutes, I shivered the whole time and could not eat or drink. Once complete, I tried to find the doc to thank him but he was busy with a bunch of others that needed help. The people of this race really are special. I headed for the food tables to grab what looked good but nothing did. I left the aid station and headed for my crew who had been patiently waiting for me. I was dejected and unmotivated to move fast. I worked so hard all day and like that I lost 30 minutes. It took me another 20 minutes to get out of there. Before I left I made the biggest mistake of the entire race. I was an absolute DICK to my crew. They forgot a very minor bag and I pretty much blew up at Queen Doom. I really wanted that bag but the reality was it was a luxury not an item that would help my performance. I will forever regret the way I acted, here they were helping me and I'm an ass to them. Unfortunately for me this would stay with me for the next hour and a half.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New shoes felt like the old ones at this point, but later I would really appreciate them.</td></tr>
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New shoes and socks on but a pretty crappy mental attitude I would set off for Foresthill. My crew, plus another buddy would walk me out to the trail from the road. I tried for at least 10 minutes to run but my feet hurt so bad I could not. I was pissed, my race was unraveling and I had no control over it. Finally after 10-15 minutes my feet went numb again and I could jog. I decided right there I was going to make up all that lost time (52 minutes) on this next section. I ran hard, I ran fast. I blew by people at about an 8-9 minute clip. Screw this pacing crap I kept thinking I need to make up time. I got to the bottom of Volcano Canyon and jumped over the stream. I made my way up the hill to the Bath road aid station where I would find at least one of my crew with a radio. I made sure to tell them ahead of time to be there because I was picking up my pacer at Foresthill and she would not let me "hang" there. I needed the 10 minutes it would take to get to Foresthill from Bath road to figure out what I had to consume at the aid stop. They could quiz me and then radio the answers to the rest of the crew.<br />
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I entered the Bath road aid station with no lights and it was nearly dark. My crew was absent and once again I got pissed off. Though I did not know it at the time, they had a hard time getting back to Foresthill via the shuttle. They did not have enough time to get to Bath road, it was not their fault. Though at the time, that would not have comforted me either. I ran the hill up to the highway and once I hit the descent I started pushing hard. I was running sub 8 minute mile pace because I had no lights. All I wanted to do was get to my crew and lay into them. How could they forget me like this, I kept thinking.<br />
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<b>Foresthill (62 miles) 9:19</b><br />
I entered the Foresthill aid station and was greeted by my buddy, the same one who introduced me to Reno Running and Fitness. While at the time I did not realize it, that was truly such an honor to have met him there. That was where we first met and I'll always remember his help. I was confused, angry, and scared. It was dark and I knew I needed to be here in the light to ensure a finish. Everyone slows down from here. You do not hold the same pace as you had the first 62 miles and I thought that stupid blister session was the death of me. I also knew my pacer would be waiting for me and I was petrified by what she might say to me. I was late, behind and slow. All I wanted to do was sit down and gather myself. I got off the scale at perfect weight once again. Before I knew it there was Goldie my pacer. C'mon, lets go she yelled.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Pacer Goldie... exiting the river 16 miles from where I picked her up.</td></tr>
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We exited the aid station en route to my crew about a half mile down the road. I was still so confused I could not gather my thoughts or emotions. I did not know what I needed, no one was asking the right questions and now I had a team of people following me. Many of my friends were at this aid station and the excitement was too much for me. Everyone wanted to know how I was doing and all I could think about was how bad I felt. How my race was in the trash can and that I was going to let them all down by missing a cutoff later in the race. I just wanted to be alone. I'm always comfortable alone.....and in control. I had neither, and it was really messing with my psyche.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-11330761320557959982012-07-23T09:38:00.000-07:002012-07-25T11:21:32.387-07:00Robinson to Swinging Bridge<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<st1:personname w:st="on"><b>Rob</b></st1:personname><b>inson Flat (30 miles) 12:36 pm</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Do I really lie to
this guy? A stupid thought since my weight was written on the band around my
wrist, but one I considered for a second. You can not imagine
the ridiculous thoughts you have when running all day. I hung my head
low, like my dog when he gets caught doing something naughty. "189.4"
I said, hoping he would think I said 199.4. "A little heavy, but everyone
is, we think it's the rain. You are good to go, just watch yourself" he
said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Instantly a rush
of relief flowed through my veins, but at the same time, I really needed to
figure out if it was the rain or if I’d been taking in more salt than needed.
Perhaps it was the cocktail weenies from Red Star Ridge mixed with
three S! Caps (electrolyte pills) I'd taken already. Perhaps all my gear was just
waterlogged, either way I had about 12 miles to figure it out.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7NoCgfQy3POurGrYpOY8vi7K_qexZjiiSu0Gezlks3g2N-Q6bXLvzWgU_h_ZaQVU4EZGaX1lHlAxS9by_AWC-ZmfsDSMsNZ9cjqVS7cDUCY0WrVLpkL34g1uuVJ96W9GPpdNgQLnjw65/s1600/WS+Crew+at+Foresthill.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7NoCgfQy3POurGrYpOY8vi7K_qexZjiiSu0Gezlks3g2N-Q6bXLvzWgU_h_ZaQVU4EZGaX1lHlAxS9by_AWC-ZmfsDSMsNZ9cjqVS7cDUCY0WrVLpkL34g1uuVJ96W9GPpdNgQLnjw65/s400/WS+Crew+at+Foresthill.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My crew from left to right: Queen Doom, Scotch Man, Half Iron Woman and the Doc.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
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I left the weigh
station and practically sprinted the couple hundred yards to where my crew was.
Talk about a boost of adrenaline! I looked at my crew and said, "I'm
having a great time! I just ran through rain, snow, hail, huge winds and I feel
great! I'm doing awesome!" My crew along with all the other crews and
spectators within earshot just stood there silently looking at me. I later
found out, most people that were coming in were having a tough day with the
conditions on the course. I was doing great, although I did start to
have a bit of a hot spot on my left foot. Hot spots are the precursor to a blister;
you may or may not be able to stop it at that point. I get blisters when I run
more than about 45 miles. At the TRT100 in 2011 I ended up with 7 rather large
blisters that I had to run on from mile 62 to the finish. I hoped today I could
curtail any blisters with preventative measures.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I sat down took my
left shoe and sock off and found the foot of a 90 year old. Lovely pale white
shriveled up skin, all wrinkly and waterlogged. I grabbed a gob of Bag Balm and
coated my foot, threw the sock back on and then the shoe. I drank about 12oz of
juice that I’d had my crew bring then<span style="background-color: white;"> got
up out of the chair. I put my jacket back on then my pack. Something felt
wrong, and then I realized I made the same mistake again with the order of
things. Today the pack needed to be under the jacket! I quickly regrouped and
grabbed the 6 inch turkey, bacon and avocado <a href="http://www.subway.com/" target="_blank">Subway</a> sandwich that I
had my crew buy for me.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It was somewhere
around this time that I saw Scotch Man! He along with Half Iron Woman, the Doc
and my fiance Queen Doom were my crew. Up until 3 pm the day before the race I thought
Scotch man was going to be AWOL. 48 hours before the race he was at work
and a piece of wood exploded and a sliver went into his eye! He spent 9 hours
in the emergency room then boarded a train from LA to meet the rest of my crew
in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Reno</st1:place></st1:city>. That
is some serious dedication and it really fired me up. I would use his pain as a
motivator each time I started to feel sorry for myself.....if Scotch Man could
hang with wood in his eye, I can certainly keep moving forward.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Unfortunately</span> this news came with a drawback; I
was so excited I forgot to do some things. I left with sandwich in hand and
made my way out of the aid station. I waived to my crew turned around and took
off. I got about a half mile up the road and totally freaked out. Quite a few
swear words came flying out of my mouth as I realized what I'd forgotten to do.
Go to the bathroom and....wait for it......get more toilet paper from my crew. Dunce move of the day right there folks. I would not see them for 25 more miles and the toughest, gnarliest part of the
course was ahead of me. I also forgot lube! Once again I had to
do some damage control, I did not need to go at that moment but if I did, I was
plumb out of luck. We had descended to a point where only pine trees
lived, no more perfect little plants like I had found before. I decided to be
on the lookout and just make my way as best I could. Fortunately like I was able to do
all day, I put it out of my mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I had roughly 12
miles of solid downhill in front of me and I made the decision to keep on with
the laxed pace. I tried to run 10-12 minute miles and made sure to drink and
eat as much as possible. After a mile or so I started catching people, I paid
no attention to it until we reached the fire roads. At that point I saw tons of
runners and I was passing them in bunches. I looked at my watch; nope I'm not
going any faster, so they must be going slower.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b>Millers Defeat
(34.4 miles) 1:51 pm</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I hit the M.D. aid
station up 56 minutes on my pace sheet, I only stopped long enough for two cups
of electrolyte drink and a cup of soup. I passed 5 people in this aid station.
It was at this time I started to realize I'd never felt this good after 35
miles before. Could I really be in that much better shape than last year? No, I
thought, I must be pacing better. I decided if it was working and I was gaining
on my splits don't try to fix what is not broken. I left the aid station ready
to roll; I took the left hand turn to the single track and started really
getting into a groove. I turned my iPod on for the first time and put one ear
bud in.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I had a secret
weapon, I had roughly 6 hours of music that I have a deep connection with. I have two
friends who go to Burning Man with me that are DJ's (<a href="http://soundcloud.com/izak-1/tracks" target="_blank">DJ Izak Engel</a> and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/liquid-neon" target="_blank">Liquid Neon</a>).
Listening to their music takes the pain away. I can not explain it, it just
makes me happy and hours go by like it’s only a split
second. I'm instantly transported to the Playa and thoughts of
dancing, art, and dust fill my head.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Dusty Corners
(38 miles) 2:39 pm</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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With the constant
beat of electronic dance music in my ear I flew into the next aid station at
Dusty Corners 50 minutes up. I stayed an extra minute or two there because they all were asking me if
I was hot. I was so far out of it (thanks iPod), I had not realized it was now
sunny and warm. I'd probably run for half an hour all bundled up. I
thought it would be good to really hit the hydration given the circumstances.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I left the aid
station going towards pucker point. This was ironic since
the second I passed that vista, puckering would be all I was doing for the next
4 miles. Yep that costly TP mistake was now back to haunt me. I was not sure if
the next aid station would have any supplies but hoped they might have a porta-potty.
It's out in the middle of nowhere and I thought maybe the volunteers would need
something to go in. I had to slow down on this section and I passed at least 2
other guys who were taking care of their business. It seemed odd and
inappropriate to pull over and ask them for supplies during their private moment, so I just meandered on to
the next aid station.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b>Last Chance
(43.3 miles) 3:49 pm</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcEzSsSOtrciCaXjL3jWS0vTu58jxDi2MZIkISt5ejPYKDi60dVS1PbaLdFALyRoQwuFasu67FqWDTgj2inkYhgRA-Ge3FHpD2JVQ1pnOiR2CRFQvikFoV2d_i_UJmSGRgsSv5jhEFS1a/s1600/SAM_0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcEzSsSOtrciCaXjL3jWS0vTu58jxDi2MZIkISt5ejPYKDi60dVS1PbaLdFALyRoQwuFasu67FqWDTgj2inkYhgRA-Ge3FHpD2JVQ1pnOiR2CRFQvikFoV2d_i_UJmSGRgsSv5jhEFS1a/s320/SAM_0661.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The toughest section of the run, while you are not going to make your race here, you can end it in a hurry!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I entered Last
Chance 43 minutes up on my splits. I had to really slow down given my issues
and when I looked to the left of the aid station I saw a potty. YES! I
exclaimed loudly as I ran past all the food. "WAIT!", I heard behind
me, "you have to be weighed". Give me a second; this is an emergency
I shouted. I threw my pack, jacket and long sleeve on the ground
outside and jumped into the blue box of awesomeness. Never in my life have I
been so excited to see a stinky hot mobile john. You would think from the way I
reacted I just won the lottery. A couple minutes later all things were once
again right with my world. I suspected the worst was now behind me (excuse the
pun). I went over to the weigh station and like that 190.2. Back on track! It
really was the rain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
One of the best
things about Western States are the aid stations, the only thing better than
the food they serve are the people serving you. I've been on that side of the
race before and for a volunteer, hearing a runner thank you is something
special. I tried at each aid station to bring a little joy into the day of
whoever was helping me by thanking them. I grabbed what amounted to 2 full
grilled cheese sandwiches for the road, expressed my deepest gratitude and got
the hell out of there. I was now only about 30 minutes up on my splits due to
my stop and I still had to deal with the toughest 12 miles of the entire race.
I'd have to descend a couple thousand feet in 4 miles then make the
huge climb up to Devils Thumb.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I knew this part
of the course well; I'd spent many hours this year learning every turn, rock and stream crossing to cool down at. I knew my downhill legs were
good, but my slow pace while descending was working so well for me, I once
again chose not to push it. I figured there might be a chance that my climbing
would still be above par and maybe I could make up some time on the hills. Even
if I did not, I had a half hour in the bag. Any energy saved now would pay
huge dividends around mile 80 when it gets flat and running is a must.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/7romVqB1xbU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br /></div>
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I set off to
Devils Thumb feeling great, 45 miles into the race and I still felt like I'd
only run 20. I finally hit the bottom of the canyon which is the start of the Devils
Thumb climb. I started getting nervous; I've done this climb many times but never
with 46 miles in my legs. As is customary with these races one mile you feel
like a champ and the next like a chump. I hoped it would be a good climb, but
from the start, my quads felt tight and my breathing was forced. I started to
think the "easy times" were over and my fears of the long 9 hour slog
from TRT started to penetrate my head. I was mentally sabotaging myself and I
had no idea of how to stop it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-87764896758039527742012-07-16T08:36:00.000-07:002012-07-16T09:02:17.629-07:00Squaw Valley to Robinson Flat<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/zN1gfl0EjYo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">(The above video was shot by one of my training partners, this was my last run before the race, this is the first 30 miles of the Western States course. The same 30 talked about in this post.....I would get no sun on race day. All pictures were taken prior to race day) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dead Last! I'm not sure I've ever been dead last in a running race
before. Back of the pack sure, but the very last runner? Don't think so. Determined to let that
fact fall to the ground like the droplets of water that were forming
on my jacket, I pressed my chin into my chest and made a climbing effort equal to what
was needed to catch up. I had a plan and I was going to run my plan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the time we
reached the mid point of the climb up Squaw I was neck and neck with the first
person to ever complete the run in 1974, a guy named Gordy. I
was roasting and took off my jacket. Huge mistake, within a minute I
was cold, and being lazy I decided to put it on over my pack rather than deal
with taking that off again. This turned out to be a good thing, once the
jacket was zipped up I could position the water tube from my pack right
next to my mouth and it would not move because of the jackets zipper. The tube poked my face as I ran and reminded me to drink. I need to come up with an invention for this on hot days. Hands free drinking!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Water
fell from the sky in many forms at this point, hail, rain, and this snowy-hail
like substance that pelted the skin. Winds had picked up to probably 20-50mph
gusts and I knew from being on this mountain so much, that it would only get
worse until we reached 2 miles off the back side. There would be trees at that
point and they would give us some shelter. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Escarpment
(3 miles) Time unknown.</span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrHTE-xLdmhKCrz8yxhURsWVrmUuvARRXC_-Vb3NQChDsZJ-nmtH5mI4UcB9vrR5YXWxj0_aImpovvAPEWdlOzoglWpjJKWlze2fxg6buoHNAdM5YzpaGnJx_W3bXZGswfOt-_1Siufma/s1600/SAM_0674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrHTE-xLdmhKCrz8yxhURsWVrmUuvARRXC_-Vb3NQChDsZJ-nmtH5mI4UcB9vrR5YXWxj0_aImpovvAPEWdlOzoglWpjJKWlze2fxg6buoHNAdM5YzpaGnJx_W3bXZGswfOt-_1Siufma/s320/SAM_0674.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just to the left of that ski lift is the Escarpment Aid Station, much lower on the hill than I expected.<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
saw a sign that said Escarpment .2 miles. Wait, I am over a mile from
the top, what is going on? I looked at my pacer sheet, then at my watch. I then
realized I made the poor assumption of thinking this first aid station in the
race was at the top of the mountain. It is not, it sits just above the old
Nastar starting hut. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once past the aid
station we climb up a very steep (40% grade at least) but short climb to
another service road that takes us up and over the mountain. I crested the top
of Squaw at 6:13, a mere 2 minutes before my pace sheet said I should. This is
great I now have banked 2 minutes to squat in the woods. Yep by this time, I
was getting that grumble down under that only a stop in the woods can fix.
Knowing the trail, I knew the perfect spot to take a private break was only 2 miles
away. I could get there at this pace in about 24 minutes. I clamped my cheeks
tighter than a bear trap and hoped nobody made me laugh and that I would not
trip, as I knew either would result an unwanted consequence.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;">
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
felt so bad for the people in shorts and tank tops, they looked chilled to the bone.
I did have to wonder if they went to the runners meeting the day before, they
warned us it would be 34 degrees. Of course in that same vein, I knew the temps and still decided to bring so many gummy worms...know what happens at 34 degrees to gummy worms? Gummy bricks hard as ice. Now I'm stuck with only gels until things warm up. I was running next to a guy from </span><st1:state style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">South Carolina</st1:place></st1:state><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, he was
in a tank top and looked frozen solid. All he could do was worry about going
down the switchbacks we would face some 40 miles from our current position. I said "you
are this cold and it's the switchbacks that are worrying you?" He said he
never got a chance to train on downhills this year. I cringed when he said this
and offered up the only advice I could. "Walk as much as you need, and
start slowing down way before each turn on the switchbacks. Throwing the brakes
on just before a turn to gain a couple extra seconds is what kills your
quads". </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I
made my way up the little stream we had to ascend and saw my rainy cold oasis
in the woods. A perfect outcropping of three trees where I could do my business, be discrete and still keep track of the number of people who were passing me (there I go again thinking about placing). I made my way off course a
couple hundred feet, took off my pack grabbed my toilet paper baggy, dug a hole with my heel and
dropped my shorts. The worst scenario I could imagine would follow:</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">1.
I had diarrhea...ooof not good.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">2.
I had been using the same zip lock for TP for a while and it had a hole in
it. TP + water = giant mess in a bag. Over half the sheets I brought (more
than enough for 2 stops) were ruined and the rest of them were not going to
clean a whole bunch.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">3.
All that was around me were pine needles, bark, branches and this weird looking
plant.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">What
to do? Then I remembered that my pacer Goldie had shown me on a training run
just weeks earlier a plant that was good for this scenario. Damn It! Why did I
not pay more attention, did it look like this one? What if this is some sort of
man eating plant fueled by feces or a weird kind of poison
ivy or oak that only grows in the alpine regions. DOH! I looked at my
watch 5 minutes had gone by, time to make a decision. I decided the plant
looked close enough so I used it then used salvageable parts of the TP I had brought. By the time I got back on the trail I'd lost some
20-30 places and almost 10 minutes. "Remember to get more TP from the crew in 23 miles" I thought to myself.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Back
on the road and after a mile I realized the TP did more harm than good. However, there was nothing I could do about it, I'd address the issue at mile
30, the first time I knew there would be a real bathroom and my crew to give me
the supplies I needed. Until then I would try to alleviate the problem by
adding bag balm or whatever lube I could find as often as possible to keep the
friction down. This is not an issue I told myself.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: white;">Lyon
Ridge (10.5 miles) at 7:41am</span></b><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwiimLYD_8suVy48cCZQu58XiqlchxWZHhvYChmOH3Ux92LCAifTPqZcffp2x3KKp8sLFcujXGRU6f_PXKB9uNlSAN7bzEUE9cswr4t6oAR3W1qTLJM_dpBDj6uCX3lwWhs2hlAPyar57X/s1600/SAM_0694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwiimLYD_8suVy48cCZQu58XiqlchxWZHhvYChmOH3Ux92LCAifTPqZcffp2x3KKp8sLFcujXGRU6f_PXKB9uNlSAN7bzEUE9cswr4t6oAR3W1qTLJM_dpBDj6uCX3lwWhs2hlAPyar57X/s320/SAM_0694.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyon Ridge sits right here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
got to </span><st1:place style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" w:st="on">Lyon</st1:place><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ridge a mere 4 minutes ahead of
schedule. Perfect! I'm 10 miles in and I avoided the mad dash that usually
happens to me. I noticed ahead of me another brightly colored figure
whose tattoos and vibrant personality are well known in the Ultra
world. I always see her with pink on and today was no different; her hair was
neon pink as well. I knew her previous times on this course so I decided I
would stay just behind her and let her pace me...though she would not know it.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I
made my way out of <st1:place w:st="on">Lyon</st1:place> ridge and
started in up the hill. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It
was now blowing hard and raining harder. I started thinking about my
crew, they had no idea about the weather. I felt bad they would be standing
around all day in the rain freezing because I told them it was going
to be hot. Hopefully they brought clothes to be comfortable in.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: white;">Red
Star Ridge (16 miles) 9:05 AM</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7RCTMrOqtnNOQbEmUrQMg5J5ZjXJ8aZnQ3ykP4V662dRgbpLiDIKoeuGnnDgZGwrJDRVaWknM_yBxwbF1gcbLrDa5XionZmRlemyYs2lRdQKjXG9wILac8wdXlz_AHG7qBo9nMFtwihf/s1600/SAM_0707.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7RCTMrOqtnNOQbEmUrQMg5J5ZjXJ8aZnQ3ykP4V662dRgbpLiDIKoeuGnnDgZGwrJDRVaWknM_yBxwbF1gcbLrDa5XionZmRlemyYs2lRdQKjXG9wILac8wdXlz_AHG7qBo9nMFtwihf/s320/SAM_0707.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Star Ridge-home of the best weenies....ever!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
followed the ultra vet for about 6 miles to the next aid station Red Star Ridge, I had gained 6 minutes from the last 5.5 miles and was now 10
minutes up on my pace chart. I entered the aid station and
the excitement from all the workers was a real treat. I walked over
to the table with food on it and decided on a PB&J 1/2 sandwich. I
shoved it in my mouth and started to walk away when I saw the most delectable
looking little weenies. I had one, oh the salty goodness. These must
have come from heaven. At that moment I took my toothpick and stabbed 4 or 5 of
those suckers and put them all in my mouth....oh holy heck they were hot. I started
fanning my mouth and looked for some liquid to put in it. I grabbed the nearest
cup and tossed it in....mmmmmm nothing like crock pot weenies
and Gatorade! I bid the workers a farewell and thanked them
for their awesomeness.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Back
on the trail I hooked up with a guy from somewhere in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">California</st1:place></st1:state>. He had run the race a couple of
times and was commenting my pacing. He said I looked great and really had
things dialed in. We talked for a bit about races, training and running in
general. I decided I
would follow him to the next aid station since I had passed the neon pink gal
in the last aid station. I would later find out she had to drop from the race a
couple miles after that. By this point a couple of other runners had joined us
to create a train of 6. We would run together all the way to the next aid stop
7.8 miles away.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on"><b><span style="background-color: white;">Duncan</span></b></st1:placename><b><span style="background-color: white;"> <st1:placename w:st="on">Canyon</st1:placename></span></b></st1:place><b><span style="background-color: white;"> (23.8 miles) 10:56 AM</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TS0AA9jo4j5mzEV4ICy7dCgkLSh58XdNTsvAL82haXFVuQT_Mzu6CAASY3OmqsHRPgh7nlH4ZJPox8qSCgpupAQ7JEpTozts8WB18zDY5wy-ERXeKzwtVFquvWu3kTLQRpyWTeLtJYOv/s1600/SAM_0709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TS0AA9jo4j5mzEV4ICy7dCgkLSh58XdNTsvAL82haXFVuQT_Mzu6CAASY3OmqsHRPgh7nlH4ZJPox8qSCgpupAQ7JEpTozts8WB18zDY5wy-ERXeKzwtVFquvWu3kTLQRpyWTeLtJYOv/s320/SAM_0709.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mad house on race day, Duncan Canyon has some great views.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<st1:place style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;" w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on"><span style="background-color: white;">Duncan</span></st1:placename><span style="background-color: white;"> <st1:placename w:st="on">Canyon</st1:placename></span></st1:place><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> is a cool place you have
to go down this short little hill and it pops you out into the middle of
absolute madness, or so it seems from the first time runner perspective. I made
my way into the aid station when all of the sudden I hear this voice from
behind say "what's under the hat". I took my hat of and did a little
spin in the middle of the aid station, by now enough people asked about the
hair that I just kept saying it's a cougar with some cheetah spots thrown in
for speed. I walked over to the aid stop and asked for some
non caffeinated gels, they had none. This was another mistake I made. I had assumed, again wrongly, that they would have an
assortment of Gu brand gels at each aid stop. I was surprised to learn they did
not, most of these early stops only had one flavor and they were
all caffeinated. I was trying to stay off caffeine for the first 62 miles.
This was tough for me, any one who has spent some time with me knows I'm
addicted to soda and the caffeine in it. Trying to hold off on caffeine for me is like asking a crack
addict to stop talking to his dealer. Fortunately I carried enough gels with me
to hold me over till Robinson Flat, the next aid stop where I would see
my crew. However, the temptation was there, I took 2 caffeinated gels from the table
just in case I needed a fix! I spent 6 minutes fueling at D.C. and then got out
of there with 6 quarters of PB&J sandwiches.</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leaving
</span><st1:place style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Duncan</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Canyon</st1:placename></st1:place><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is difficult. You
are literally directed right back the way you just came from. You
have to head north for a mile or two before you can continue moving west. I was
worried about this section, 2 weeks prior I ran from Squaw to Robinson Flat and
this section killed me. I had not been eating and the last 6 miles of the run
knocked me out. I was worried the same would happen today. I held back from my
normal balls to the wall downhill ways and followed the 6 person train down to
the creek that we must pass through. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I
was puzzled by what I saw at the creek, we had been running now for almost 7
hours and no part of the body was dry. Yet, here I am watching 10-12 people tip
toe on the rocks sticking out of the stream so they do not get their feet wet.
I announced "coming through!" as I ran into the shin deep creek and
passed each and every one of them. I knew I had dry shoes and socks in 3 miles
and more water was not hurting anything at this point. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'm now about to embark on the first of 4 canyon climbs. This canyon is
tricky, it just gets steeper as you go. I knew when we hit the switchbacks 1.5
miles from the aid station that things would fall apart for me. They always do
on hills. I'm slow, especially when the incline is mild. I have not yet
developed a running gear up hills and my hiking leaves a lot to be desired. On this day though, my legs felt great. I began slowly
pulling away from the train of 12 I had passed and was now on my own. I would
not run with another person for the next 10 hours. I'd see people, but I was
passing them. With good legs beneath me, I started hiking hard up the
hill. I caught a couple of people and I was realizing that either they were blowing
up or I was in better climbing shape than I thought.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEskzsJOaoO5c_M2tWBRjtcN9IV0JknBf6Tu1NOsOtC0LB_ShTb-tridbIBwO8nP5J3pDWskzSe1exCtffBh3kmkNK4egK9vYl00G46L3lK3EsmwYaDlOf9klc9bZ0FsfJma9ddtXEsluK/s1600/SAM_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEskzsJOaoO5c_M2tWBRjtcN9IV0JknBf6Tu1NOsOtC0LB_ShTb-tridbIBwO8nP5J3pDWskzSe1exCtffBh3kmkNK4egK9vYl00G46L3lK3EsmwYaDlOf9klc9bZ0FsfJma9ddtXEsluK/s320/SAM_0711.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1/2 mile.....close but no cigar!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
made my way up the switchbacks and through a meadow to the sign that says
Robinson Flat .5 miles. This sign is full of it! Its .8 miles, you may not think that .3 miles is much, after 29.7 miles that
is one hell of an error! Fortunately I knew about this already so I adjusted my
expectations of when I would see my crew.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: white;">Robinson
Flat (30 Miles) 12:37 PM </span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I
entered the corral they had set up for runners to direct them into the
weigh station 25 minutes ahead of schedule. In races like this they weigh
you to make sure you are keeping up on the fluids. Weighing more or less than
7% of your body weight gets you time in a chair, and you have no choice but to
wait until they feel you are ready to leave. I have worried about this to no
end. Last year in my only other 100 mile race I started at 194 and would weigh
at different times 188 all the way to 212. At that race they are much
more lenient than this one with the numbers.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I started to
figure out if I would be heavy or light 174 and 202 was the range I had to work with. Should I strip down or add some rocks
to the pockets? My blow up at Zion a month earlier and a promise I made to my fiance made me decide to be honest with the scale, so I did nothing. I saw
my crew member to the right of the line of runners walking into the aid station.
Oh she was a sight for sore eyes, and she had a poncho and tu-tu on! Yes, I thought,
they are all going to be fine I do not have to worry about them. I walked up to
the scale handed my pack and jacket off and stood still. 203 the guy shouted,
what's your start weight?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Damn that is over
7% do I tell him the truth?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-69004771721964207032012-07-09T08:20:00.000-07:002012-07-09T08:20:55.339-07:00Pre-Race to Last Place!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><u>Pre Race 2:30am Saturday June 23</u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dreaded buzz from my phone alarm awoke me from a dream
about <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Burning</st1:city> <st1:state w:st="on">Man.</st1:state></st1:place> I quickly sat up out of bed and as the
fog of sleep started to clear from my brain, I was now realizing why it was pitch
dark out. I would be running for the
entire day, night and next morning. I’d be trying to run nearly half way across
the state of <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state>,
over the Sierra mountain range just 2.5 hours from now. I needed to eat, drink, and prepare my weapons to attack the trail for the day. I also still had to make the short
journey from my parent’s house to <st1:place w:st="on">Squaw Valley</st1:place>.
381 other runners like me, would start the Western States 100 mile Endurance run
at the base of the ski resort. Each of us hopeful to end our run in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Auburn</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state></st1:place>
before 11:00 am Sunday morning. 301 runners would eventually reach Auburn in less than 30 hours after the gun went off.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMYn0av4RX0r1KRsW1jSzvrg1t51PrrtRPIvfVMTJnY4U8_xVVLBnsizRpD05LwAL5kGDVwrHmPBko9H7C3bSDECeVuuL7Zr-AAvsvnY3aTkPvTuNG9KDKmmyIbrhAcWMkJHUgZnFGw8n/s1600/IMG_4069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMYn0av4RX0r1KRsW1jSzvrg1t51PrrtRPIvfVMTJnY4U8_xVVLBnsizRpD05LwAL5kGDVwrHmPBko9H7C3bSDECeVuuL7Zr-AAvsvnY3aTkPvTuNG9KDKmmyIbrhAcWMkJHUgZnFGw8n/s320/IMG_4069.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My trail weapons</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I made my way up the three flights of stairs to the garage
where I had stashed my 2 bagels and creme cheese as well as a liter of
orange juice. This would be the last meal I would have where I was not hurried. My dog Zeke had eaten the other 4 bagels the day before and there were some nice teeth marks on the two he left behind. I guess he wanted to carb load with me. I leaned against the refrigerator and thought about the adventure I would have
today. I wondered if I had what it would take mentally and physically to run
the 100.2 miles (18,000 feet of climbing and 23,000 feet of descending). I wondered if my foot would hold up to the abuse I was about to put on it. I wondered what my body would do after I hit the 43 mile mark. I'd not completed any runs this year farther than 42 miles. I had
run 100 miles before in 2011, but that was on the smooth buffed out Tahoe Rim
Trail. That run resulted in a massive 9 straight hours of walking between 2am
and 11am. That 9 hours is the only regret I have from the race, these are
running races I need to be able to run them. I knew if the same resulted today,
I would be pulled from the course in the middle of the night. I would not make the segmented cutoffs that are there to ensure runners finish in a timely manner.</div>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNxbATL-iH5ZusM6fhnVmTlS2E8eKF0-Np4iPrrm5-2NP2adBakEha-wMA-HpHDhNmtKwHFCIiO-5xZ3zW6NRwiLADexx9ueeJ8H6tE3Gf343XZWRd4itBwnIyNUTqFakpPx_s7pp3rzB/s1600/WS+Cutoffs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNxbATL-iH5ZusM6fhnVmTlS2E8eKF0-Np4iPrrm5-2NP2adBakEha-wMA-HpHDhNmtKwHFCIiO-5xZ3zW6NRwiLADexx9ueeJ8H6tE3Gf343XZWRd4itBwnIyNUTqFakpPx_s7pp3rzB/s640/WS+Cutoffs.JPG" width="555" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I was attempting a run on much more difficult,
technical terrain. To make matters worse, as I peeked outside I muttered an
explicative. It was damp, rainy, cloudy, windy and cold. This race is known for
the heat, which I am not well suited for. For the last month I had spent nearly
every run at the hottest part of the day in a long sleeve shirt. I spent every
day of the commute to work (over an hour each way) in a long sleeve
shirt and a towel covering my legs with my cars heater blasting me on high. I was attempting to train my
body to be acclimated to the heat I would face on this day. This new set of circumstances
was actually a blessing in disguise; I'm all good in the cold. However, I had not done a whole lot of
running in the rain and wind since I was injured for most of the winter. <br />
<br />
I had
decided the week previous that I would make a concerted effort to find the good
in the circumstances I was given on this journey rather than dwell on why it
was not the perfect scenario. The good in this, I figured, was the lack of heat and the fact I am quite comfortable running in the cold. My days spent in a downhill suit (basically a Lycra suit with a tad bit of padding) skiing prepared me for any amount of cold, damp and uncomfortable this day would bring. I'll take freezing over hot any day. I quickly made my way to my packed bags and
started rummaging for the zip lock bag that carried a long sleeve technical (wicking)
shirt, my Salomon wind breaker and a pair of summer gloves. I would find out
later, this would be the second coldest day in the history of the race.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Taking those items weighed on me a bit, literally but also figuratively. True, they are not
heavy, but I had just spent the previous 24 hours taking every unnecessary item
out of my race day item list. Generally I take everything except the kitchen
sink on a run. I usually have a knife, cell phone, wallet, keys, assortment of
sugars like gels, candy, and gummy bears, some solid food at least 75-100oz of
water, toilet paper, extra buff and beanie etc…. I had finally decided, begrudgingly
at the request of my pacer, actually I should say my savior, to only bring my light pack with
6 gels, 24 gummy worms (600 calories worth) and 75oz of water and toilet paper. I also feared I
needed to shed every ounce of weight to make the 30 hour time limit. I made my
peace with this decision and of course the minute I get accustomed to it, I’m
thrown a curve ball with this rain. Now I’d have to be packed for the cold. So
much for going ultra light!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Around 3am the rest of the people in the house started arriving upstairs
all of them dressed in the crew shirts that I had made. I talked to my dad for
a couple of minutes before I realized it was time to head off and get to Squaw
to pick up my bib. It felt like old times being with my dad before the race. He
was always there front and center for all my adventures when I was young. There was a moment in talking with him that I think I could see how proud he was of me in his eyes, we do not talk about such things, but the look said everything I needed to hear. I could tell he was amped for me and as is typical with this side of my family both he and my step mom were leaving shortly after the start to go win a sniper shooting match. My family to say the least, is active. The list of sporting success would boggle the mind, I just hoped, today, I could live up to those standards. I had wanted to have my mom out for this as well but things did not work out as I had planned. That's another story all together! I had talked to my mom the day before and told her I just overnight-ed a shirt to her. She wore it the entire time I was on the course. If there is a next time for this race, I'm going to make sure she is healthy enough to be there. <br />
<br />
My
fiancé and I hopped into the vehicle we have dubbed the Yeti. This would be my
crews transportation vehicle as they made their way to me, deep in the hills of <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state>. As is
customary with this vehicle, and the big events she transports us too, it was
all decked out with paint letting everyone on the road know we were on an epic
journey.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7laNO-W_nTtODWInXUIOOwwbgW_gA9VDoy2O9oIsWBaYaGTOuHGEIabSvGypvvbqksbLWGTn51NvoLAA-EHLCjk2gg6tzK2DgjrkP6WUsZkbkny-Y6PVM9G8xcb8WM_hYIGxfCBpiBYh/s1600/IMG_4065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7laNO-W_nTtODWInXUIOOwwbgW_gA9VDoy2O9oIsWBaYaGTOuHGEIabSvGypvvbqksbLWGTn51NvoLAA-EHLCjk2gg6tzK2DgjrkP6WUsZkbkny-Y6PVM9G8xcb8WM_hYIGxfCBpiBYh/s320/IMG_4065.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeti.....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I arrived at <st1:place w:st="on">Squaw Valley</st1:place>
at 3:50 am. I have been to this resort hundreds of times but never so early and
never on a summer morning. Thoughts of my skiing days whirled through my head, there would be no chair lifts for me on this day. We parked and made our way
to the lodge. This was so familiar, when I skied; we made the same trek to the
same lodge. Heck I was even sitting at the same table I’d sat at half my life
ago before ski races. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfIX2Qwv8vklXZ26TB6KtxGVwopOAiHL2Hu36MLPxBisC2LRFV6b2lTGiYvneIeAAnHbxLndcPj4hASAh0ONyj7RxHV3AAMsYZJfBalixqnJgPLgGrHnLxeXMzLHWQ-9V3tImt9ehOyde/s1600/IMG_4075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfIX2Qwv8vklXZ26TB6KtxGVwopOAiHL2Hu36MLPxBisC2LRFV6b2lTGiYvneIeAAnHbxLndcPj4hASAh0ONyj7RxHV3AAMsYZJfBalixqnJgPLgGrHnLxeXMzLHWQ-9V3tImt9ehOyde/s320/IMG_4075.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d been relatively even keel with my nerves up to this
point. Once I checked in I got a little baggy with my bib and microchip that
goes around my ankle, which is when my nerves and blood pressure went through
the roof. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj75sAm4BUVqOpuvkL9EYinPOUr0IeIRWVvuQHOHMAtLenQ-0bVafpiaL2Dkzq8antSuYAKkZsh67dr0_le5-0B6r79T5wzAipR5r1QfQvBYijDXyaPvHes9Od0gLSLhRrhw5fYWeilvD/s1600/IMG_4071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj75sAm4BUVqOpuvkL9EYinPOUr0IeIRWVvuQHOHMAtLenQ-0bVafpiaL2Dkzq8antSuYAKkZsh67dr0_le5-0B6r79T5wzAipR5r1QfQvBYijDXyaPvHes9Od0gLSLhRrhw5fYWeilvD/s320/IMG_4071.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bib on!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This was happening; I was on the precipice of finally starting the
race. I had thought about this in secret for well over a decade, once I finally
muttered out loud my intentions to run in it, my thoughts and actions have been dominated by it for the last 3 years. As I pinned that bib on my left leg I
wondered if I would be the same person in 31 hours. I figured if successful I
would finally feel proud of myself, but feared as has happened so many times in the past, that I might have placed too much emphasis on the final outcome. The old me
would consider anything but a finish a colossal failure, I would not take into
account the journey, the fact so few could even make it to the start, or even
the circumstances that I had to face just to get here this year. I hoped that I would find maturity along the course where I
could appreciate all the good that has come from this journey and not dwell on
an unfortunate outcome, should that be the case.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once I had my bib on I started to realize I may need to deal
with a bathroom stop on the mountain. Even with careful planning I was starting
to get the feeling that yesterdays food would not evacuate from my body before
the start. I was prepared for this circumstance but I was not happy I’d have to
deal with it. I had carefully planned every eating session for the last week, right down to the minute
of the day I took in food. I should have needed to go by now, but instead I sat on the toilet twiddling my thumbs praying to the poop gods!
They would answer me many times over; unfortunately those communications would
come at mile 6, 38, 42, and 49.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got up threw my shorts back on and hoped that this would
be the only thing for the next 30 hours I was unsuccessful at. I made my way
back to my parents and fiancé with 10 minutes to the start. A friend of mine
had made the trip up from <st1:city w:st="on">Reno</st1:city>
to surprise me. He showed up just as we were going to head out, I was shocked
to see him. He was the one who first heard the words: “I want to run the
Western States 100” come out of my mouth back in 2009. It was just the jolt I
needed before the journey began.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nearly 400 nervous runners stood on the deck of the lodge
watching a clock countdown. I could see at the head of the pack just under the
start line so many famous runners; it hit me at that point. I was running the
same course as them, and in the same race! What the hell was I doing here; I was no
where near the runner they were. I looked back toward the end of the line and
pretty much thought the same thing about those runners. I had my first mental
battle before the gun even went off. I saw my training partners lined up and
thought they looked like they belong. I still did not think I deserved to be
here. That was the only conclusion I could come to just minutes before the
start, why else would I consider all 380 other runners as studs and me just
some pitiful fool who lucked into this situation. Heck I had to be given my
entry. I only trained less than three months for this, my training partners had
to stop and wait for me so many times on long runs. I’m not prepared for this! These
were foolish thoughts and I immediately had to step back and tell myself I did
in fact deserve to be here and I would perform accordingly. I would revisit
this insecurity many times over the next day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UTMNO9a7Ou4639x5MrXqKuBC7UuECjxH-bPPJ7UogE8cYgtpsPXX-9kMcBCD59yN2-wOgtG8796o6g0Us1PoXqgrLooZhBVzEIg11AUfcRxNplpKcQYYvPn0zO1y22HdH0p4yxHmb1Xx/s1600/IMG_4073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UTMNO9a7Ou4639x5MrXqKuBC7UuECjxH-bPPJ7UogE8cYgtpsPXX-9kMcBCD59yN2-wOgtG8796o6g0Us1PoXqgrLooZhBVzEIg11AUfcRxNplpKcQYYvPn0zO1y22HdH0p4yxHmb1Xx/s320/IMG_4073.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the gun</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I typically have issues with going out fast at the start of
the races and dying in the latter parts. I was determined today that I would
not let that happen. My plan was to start at the back. I wanted to make sure
that by the time we got to the single-track trail, 3.5 miles in, I was in the back of the pack<strong>.</strong> This would ensure that I could
not go out fast, because it was near impossible to pass anyone for about 3
miles once on the back side of the ski resort. My overall plan was to take it easy for the first 62 miles, get with my pacer and see where we were at. Make a plan to get to the river crossing (78 miles) and hammer the last 22 miles as best we could. It was important to not have significant walk breaks, I needed to keep moving swiftly at all times.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><b><u>5AM Saturday June 23 mile 0.0 Squaw Valley</u></b></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lined up, still with my clan of 4 supporters, nearly last.
The clock hit 10 seconds to go and the runners, crew members and crowd began the
countdown from 10. The clock hit zero and a shotgun went off. We now had 30
hours to make our way to Auburn Ca.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYN6LG8ev1n-tU02fIjkLxZtmkZtyhH0IR9SUkmV5iXYDXpG8ryx3mjN2TpNjpSvi9C2nfsMn8Az89Ve-Vu8KYh3Xp0VgWVOHpDYEbXD_OkHGWFyhDuENTxHSkJyf_pQb-yMeOzN9GBqV/s1600/IMG_4072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYN6LG8ev1n-tU02fIjkLxZtmkZtyhH0IR9SUkmV5iXYDXpG8ryx3mjN2TpNjpSvi9C2nfsMn8Az89Ve-Vu8KYh3Xp0VgWVOHpDYEbXD_OkHGWFyhDuENTxHSkJyf_pQb-yMeOzN9GBqV/s320/IMG_4072.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And GO!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had noticed something on a run 2 weeks earlier with my
mentor. He would kiss his hand and slap it against rocks as we ran. I never
talked to him about it, but I figured the race is so important to him and so
close to his heart that he must do it as a form of appreciation. I figured I needed
all the help I could get. If I could get some good mojo by making out with
the course I was just the guy to do that. Be good to the course and it will be
good to you type of thing. I walked up to the starting line kneeled down,
kissed my hand and slapped it at the ground, then I did the same as I jumped up
to touch the starting timer which already read 30 seconds.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORFPTj4iVstPgzJLOYB1YlWEg3BIT8lGyE73ea5dMZTUX5Z1Y07INI2tPvhUz1wVpTW1tMDQ26KZRDUsgiue53O_xkU7lJCMhrjWtZI5dZKtttCQRi6OXUMBO0wGhvDGogm_werYG6MYT/s1600/IMG_4074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORFPTj4iVstPgzJLOYB1YlWEg3BIT8lGyE73ea5dMZTUX5Z1Y07INI2tPvhUz1wVpTW1tMDQ26KZRDUsgiue53O_xkU7lJCMhrjWtZI5dZKtttCQRi6OXUMBO0wGhvDGogm_werYG6MYT/s320/IMG_4074.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And they are off!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I started walking with the urgency of a snail. Within a
minute I was ahead of maybe 3 people and behind the rest of the field. Along
the road they call the Mountain Run, I would see many familiar faces. I stopped
walking to take time to hug each and every one of them. I was intent on
enjoying every part of this adventure. Within a quarter of a mile I had hugged
my last friend. I made it one more switchback and I took another 10-15 seconds
to look at the valley beneath me, I could see a steady stream of red on the
road from all the crews leaving the resort. What I did not see, shocked me a bit….RUNNERS!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turned back around looked a couple hundred feet up the
hill and thought, great, I’m less than .5% through the race and I’m already in last
place. I had to once again remind myself (as was the case the entire day) that
placing was not important, clock time was. I had roughly 45 minutes to get to
the top of Squaw or I’d be off pace and that is all that mattered. If I held
true to my pace chart I would finish the race in 29.5 hours.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIH8v9EVXeQ4h0ArsFSPVozh47E4iZaZaza6wybIY6GXR3XX9TUxymDlD-Bvde7SLbCRt1EX5UbCs-UE4icnSPi2zUGUp06pLmMUY3YZSGfkTPxosJf40TeoWtPgMkOS-DWG13HTLdjh-/s1600/Pace+Sheet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIH8v9EVXeQ4h0ArsFSPVozh47E4iZaZaza6wybIY6GXR3XX9TUxymDlD-Bvde7SLbCRt1EX5UbCs-UE4icnSPi2zUGUp06pLmMUY3YZSGfkTPxosJf40TeoWtPgMkOS-DWG13HTLdjh-/s640/Pace+Sheet.JPG" width="553" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Pace sheet, just need to stay ahead of "Goal Time".</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com01960 Squaw Valley Rd, Tahoe National Forest, Squaw Valley, CA 96146, USA39.1962993 -120.235446539.1901463 -120.245317 39.2024523 -120.22557599999999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-39015272196843887472012-06-21T10:49:00.003-07:002012-06-21T10:49:49.993-07:002 days to go!Training in 2012<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Heading into 2012 I decided I needed to really commit to running
in the hills. My plan was to run 3 days a week in the hills and bump it up to 4
days as the race got closer. January started out great. I felt I had a solid
base of miles built up from the end of 2011 and I was now going to be running
with sub 21 hour guys (at the race they intend to run under 21 hours) on a
weekly basis. I knew I would be pushed to the farthest my limits would allow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had some heel pain at the end of 2011 but nothing that
curtailed my running just some annoyances. It turned out that it was a case of
plantar fasciitis building up. I went to a training run for the Way2Cool race
to get some course experience. I made it about 8 miles into the training run
and my left heel was really starting to hurt. I adapted like we all do and
started running more near my forefoot. The Cool race is run on many of the same
trails as the last 20 miles of the Western States course. Somewhere around mile
15 I noticed my left foot was going numb and my toe was starting to hurt. I
made it another 3 miles or so before I started to limp quite heavily. By the
time I got to the end of the run, I had sneaky suspicion that my running off my
forefoot, for only 10 miles or so, might have hurt my foot again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stuck around for everyone to finish but my foot was starting
to hurt pretty bad and I was having trouble keeping up a good attitude. Deep
down, it felt a lot like the last 2 times I broke it. I drove home, iced it and
hoped for the best.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I woke up the next morning to what I already knew I would see;
a massively swollen foot and a need for crutches. However this time my entire
foot hurt from heel to toe. I immediately contacted the guy I had been using as
my mentor for a specialist. I went and saw her and we deduced that I was very
lucky. I did not break the toe but I jammed it really bad. Basically like a
football players turf toe, I had cuboid syndrome (ankle issues) and plantar fasciitis.
In other words, 2 months no running. I did not run another step until the
Way2Cool race. I started that race and ran the first 8 miles and called it a
day. My toe felt fine, my ankle (cuboid portion) felt alright, but my heel was
still a mess. I spent the rest of the day walking around and jogging some
people in. Nothing taxing just feeling out the foot, I wanted to see how bad it
would get. It was now March and I had to start running if I was going to make
it to the start line at States in 2012.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day my PT devised a plan for me to run but intensely
work on my heel. The problem stemmed from tightness in my calf. I went out and
bought this calf stretcher which I think has been absolutely key in my
recovery. I carried this thing around with me everywhere I went and stretched
each calf 1 minute at a time up to maybe 10-15 times a day for months. I wear a
boot to bed every night to keep my foot in a right angle to my shin so my calf
stays stretched. I have an intimate relationship with many golf balls on the
arch of my foot and at work I pick marbles up with my toes while I sit at my
desk.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
April 1<sup>st</sup> I started to up the miles and got into
the 30mpw range. Last year at that time I had done double that on a fairly easy
week. My foot was getting better but it was still hurting a little. I did not
have any ability to run up a hill without allowing the left heel to hit the
ground. I kept working at it and kept the miles down. Mid April, I had a huge
breakthrough. I ran a hill near my house and my left heel never once hit the
ground, and, I had no pain. This was fantastic! At that point the only pain I
felt was after the run and as long as I spent a lot of time stretching the
thing out I could nurse it back to the point it was at just before the run.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I decided at that point I was ready to join the pack back in
the hills. I made a pact that I would walk as often as needed and not worry
about over all speed. I would press the downhills to work the quads but running
uphill would need to come naturally, otherwise I’d walk….all of them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My first run with the group was a tough one. We would run
backwards the toughest two canyons of the Western States course then turn right
back around and run them the correct way back to the car, roughly 28-30ish
miles. I walked every step of the up’s and ran every downhill like a bear was
after me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I blew up on the last climb in the only way I know how,
epically! My mentor had to pretty much scrap his run to get me back to the top
of Michigan Bluff. Body fluids were leaving my body at record pace, my muscles
were revolting and I was acting like a complete spaz! Though I blew up, I did
not have much pain in my foot and that was the first run over 26 miles since
December.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By this point every race I intended on running had passed
except for the <st1:city w:st="on">Zion</st1:city>
50. By that point my training was going well, I entered the race positive that
it would be a good day and for 10 miles it was. Then I got lost multiple times,
ran out of water on a very hot exposed day, and missed a cutoff at the 35 mile
mark after having run 42 from getting lost. It was a rough day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That was the last race I competed in. Not the confidence
builder you want, before a 100 mile race. However, my training has been a ton
of quality this year. I actually can run some tough hills now. I’m much faster
hiking hills and my quads are as bulletproof as they ever were in when I was
young. The fast guys only have to wait for me for a little bit these days, and
I keep up with them on all the downhill’s, and usually I pass them just to let
em know I’m still nipping at their heels. The first time I pass them on the uphill’s….you
can bet they are going to hear about it!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve now run almost 160 miles on the Western States course
and seen every nook and cranny. I am confident up to 40 miles in any given run and
on technical terrain I am far and away in the best running shape I’ve ever
been. I also know after 40 miles, I do not know anything. In the 8 weeks
leading up to my taper, I had runs of 32, 34, 34, 40, 38, 42, 41 miles each
weekend. I backed them all up with at least 8 miles the next day depending on
how my feet felt. I had a solid 10.5 <span style="background-color: white;">hour </span><span style="background-color: white;">(first 30 of WS course) run 2 weeks
ago</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the 4 months I’ve been back running, I took 1 cutback
week. I ran 139 (March), 179(April), 272 (May) miles and I’m at about 110 this
month so far. My foot feels strong, my body feels pretty good. I ran nearly
1200 miles at this point last year and I’m at 800 now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have no idea how Saturday is going to turn out. What I do
know is I’ve put in the time to give myself a good shot at running well. My
focus has turned from an arbitrary time to wanting to enjoy this experience. I’m
not going to win, heck I’m not going to even come close to the pace I am
capable running so I’m going to have my self a great time. I intend to have a
smile on no matter how bad the suffering gets or when it starts. I would not
give up this journey for anything. It’s taught me lessons that I’ll carry with
me the rest of my life. I’ve helped inspire people to run and do things they
never thought they could. I deserve to be here this weekend, and I’m going to
make damn sure I come away from this race better than when I started it. I’ve
got some fun things planned while I’m out there and if nothing else, people are
going to see a side of me that does not usually come out except maybe at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Burning</st1:city> <st1:state w:st="on">Man.</st1:state></st1:place></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m confident in my abilities. To steal a line from my
mentor:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I took no shortcuts, I have no excuses” nor do I have any
regrets. My body will carry me as far as I am smart to let it. That means, toss
the competitive part of me out the window and pick it up at Green Gate 20 miles
from the finish. Run your heart out from Hwy49 those last 7 miles into the
track, and run past all those things I’ve been holding onto all these years.
Saturday is going to be a momentous occasion for nearly 400 runners and their
crew. The 1500 volunteers will see a passion for running that is rarely found at
a road race and I intend to thank as many of them as I can for being there
allowing me to complete this dream I had so long ago.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have so many people to than it would take forever to mention them
by name so I’ll just group them together. To my family and friends thank you so
much for all your support. The guy who hates to get help from anyone sure does appreciate
all the help he’s gotten from you all. However, I have to single out my gal, without her none of this would have happened. She truly is my rock. I’m now off to Squaw for a little jaunt
in the woods. Auburn Bound BABY!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-59993829435203623282012-06-19T10:13:00.001-07:002012-06-19T10:22:54.635-07:004 days and counting....<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
4 days and counting….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winning the lotto….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d finally completed the toughest hurdle. I ran a
very tough mountain 100 mile race and in my mind. I had
what it took to complete Western States, and all it was needed was 7 months of
getting my tail kicked! Granted the 2 courses are not the same, but I was
reasonably sure that the cumulative effort level it would take to complete both
would be somewhat close. I’d later learn, this is not really the case, the two
courses are completely different and while the total effort might be close the
muscles you use are vastly different.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I now had a couple months to rest before I had to sign up
for the Lottery for Western States. In a perfect world 3 weeks after the Tahoe
race I’d been back at it running, but life is rarely, if ever perfect. I came
down with a string of odd illnesses and minor injuries that basically kept me
from running until October. I never get sick, but I was sick for 3 straight
months it seemed. I highly underestimated the effect running 100 miles would
have on my bodies various systems. I think it largely stemmed from my rapid
increase from couch potato to 100 mile runner in 2.5 years. Specifically the
fact that I had spent more than 1 year of those 2.5 injured. My body just shut
down from all the stress I caused it in the Tahoe race.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d lost some fitness, gained a bit of weight back but once
I started running again things were just right with my world. I entered the
States lotto with no expectations other than to be in it. I knew the numbers,
about a 10% chance to get in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The morning of the Lotto I had volunteered to take a couple of
friends down who were vying for a spot in the race as well. I have always had
this nightmare about not waking up to my alarm, it pretty much never actually
happens but just before I go to bed I almost always think “you better hear that
thing”. Well, the morning of the lotto, I was to be at the gas station to pick
everyone up early in the morning and guess what…..I missed my alarm. Not a good
sign for the day!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got a wake up call instead from a friend at the gas
station. I hoped out of bed and got out the door as fast as I could. We ended
up making it in plenty of time, but that was not the start to the day I wanted.
Once at the lottery you could feel the vibe in the air. They call each persons
name that makes it and if they are in attendance they get some extra prize
swag.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s tough being there. You really want your name called but
do not expect it. You are so happy for the people who are called, but each one
takes one more chance away from you yourself getting into the big dance. There
was so much emotion on the face of so many people, I never intended on this
part of the experience being so moving but it was. Seeing people who had waited
3-5 years just to get their chance was such a treat. It also helped calm my
expectations. Like everything in this sport, it just takes time; time for your
body to adapt, time for you to build a base of weekly miles, time to recover
and time, maybe years, to get into the race.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time they started calling the last couple of names, I
realized this in fact would not be the year I got in. I rationalized it by
saying I had a lot to learn and it was a good thing. However deep down there
was a lot of disappointment, I’m still an uber impatient individual and I hate
it when I am forced into corners that I did not choose of my own free will.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fortunately for the people I brought down to the lotto,
there was one other chance to get in. In order to have a strong international
contingent, the race holds another lottery for anyone not hailing from the <st1:country-region w:st="on">U.S.</st1:country-region> Both my
friends were dejected they did not make it into the first mass lottery so they
went for a run. None of us knew when the foreign lottery would take place but
since they hailed from <st1:country-region w:st="on">Mexico</st1:country-region>
and <st1:country-region w:st="on">Lithuania</st1:country-region>
they still had a shot. It turns out while they were running that lottery was
taking place behind closed doors somewhere.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They called me to go pick them up after their run and as I pulled
into what is mile 98.3 on the course one of their phones rang. It was the owner
of Reno Running and Fitness calling to tell them they had both made it in!
Instantly my mood went from bummed out to this eruption of happiness. I ran
over to my pacer from Tahoe and picked him up and sprinted up a hill while
carrying him. We had talked for so many hours that night running in Tahoe about
wanting to be in this race and if I could not be in it, the next best thing was
for him to be. The fact my other friend made it in was just icing on the cake.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once things calmed down I told them both to take their crap
out of my car and run their ass’s home, they would need to start training now!
The car ride home was a mix of emotions, I could tell they were shocked and I think
they were a bit guarded as to how they were acting since I did not make it in.
Honestly I was so happy for them nothing could have brought me down. I knew I’d
be on one of their crews and maybe even be able to pace them and we would
ultimately share the experience together.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This would be a great ending to a story, but as has been the
case since I started running there would be many more up’s and down’s to the journey.
Remember that Aid Station I’ve worked my butt off the last two years at? The one run by the local club the Silver State Striders? Well
they get 1 spot to give to someone for the race. That aid station captain who
asked me to come back in 2010, the one whom I’ve known since I ski raced with
his son, informed me that I met the criteria for their private lotto. I now had
a 1 in 6 shot of getting in! This was why I worked so hard that day at Foresthill,
I just knew at some point someone would see how bad I wanted this and it would
pay off. I’d cut my chances from 1 in 10 to 1 in 6, things were looking up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next week before a run they dropped 6 tiny pieces of
paper into a hat. The first and only one that came out had my name on it. Holy
Shit! What? I could not believe it. I was in. I immediately ran back to my car
to call my girlfriend. I was welling up and leaking at the face, while I told
her we had plans for late June. After 16 years, I was into the race. I finally
had a chance to close some old wounds and regrets I’d been hanging on to for
years. I was going to get the chance to see if I could be like those mega
athletes I saw on that TV special, whilst sitting in bed unable to walk. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was just about a week away from Christmas, and I’d won the
second lottery to get into States, one day later I found out I won 2 other
lotteries. I won one to get into the largest 50k race in the country, the
Way2Cool 50k in early 2012 and I also won the lottery for 2 Burning Man tickets….all
in one week! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2011 was turning out to be a banner year and I was so
excited for 2012. I finally had a handle on things and nothing was going to
stop me! That mostly held true for 14 days into the new year, when an all too
familiar foe came back to haunt me.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5497313721644291212.post-56157628171071494882012-06-16T21:25:00.001-07:002012-06-17T08:16:25.709-07:006 days to goJan-Nov 2011<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I now had almost 3 months of solid pain free running under
my belt. I had a coach to get me through the training, and a local running
group to lean on when running times were tough. I formulated my racing schedule
with the help of my coach and January 1<sup>st</sup> I set it all into action.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The schedule was simple on paper.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.hilomarathon.org/" target="_blank">Hilo HawaiiMarathon</a> in March</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.ar50mile.com/" target="_blank">American River 50 </a>mile in April</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://rock-n-rivermarathon.com/" target="_blank">Rock N River Marathon</a> (<st1:city w:st="on">Reno</st1:city>)
in May</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.silverstatestriders.com/fiftyfifty" target="_blank">Silver State 50 mile </a>in May</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.tahoemtnmilers.org/trter/trtindex.htm" target="_blank">Tahoe Rim Trail 100</a> in July</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Simple to write but considering, as of that date, the
farthest I had ever run was 32 miles and that was nearly a year earlier in
March of 2010. This was going to be a big task. My first trail race (13
miles) was just a year and a half earlier. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also had the weight issue, though I was not as concerned
with that. I’m not much of a foodie, if given the option, I would take a pill
for all of my nutrition needs. There are very few things I crave food wise. Although
as I would learn, with the uptick in miles per week, I would start to enjoy
food a bit more. I put myself on a somewhat strict diet of about 2200 calories
a day. I figured, that, coupled with attempting to run 7 days a week I should
be down around 200lbs by the time I hit my 100 mile race. I was starting at 221
and was shooting for about 3-4 pounds a month or 1 pound a week. Again,
sometimes naivety is a blissful thing. Lets put it this way, 2200 calories and
50-70 miles a week running just does not jive. I lost weight in a hurry and
with it, my long runs started to suffer greatly. By the time March hit, I was
already down to 190 and eventually I would hit 182 before I had to go get even
more help.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went to visit <a href="http://sierrastrength.com/joe-dibble/" target="_blank">Joe Dibble at Sierra Strength and Endurance</a>.
My training was going great but I could not run for more than 3 hours before I
just died. Any run no matter the intensity just turned into a walk fest. He
quickly diagnosed that I was just not eating enough. He put me on a 3300
calorie a day diet during the week and 4500-5500 a day diet on the weekends.
Just a week before the Hilo Marathon I completely changed how I eat. It was a
huge epiphany, and I actually started to look forward to food. I ended up
leveling out about 195lbs which is where he thought I should be given the still
substantial (for a runner) bit of muscle I had. To put it into context, as an 18
year old senior in high school I was 5’9” 202 pounds, and now at that point I
was 33 and 195, kinda crazy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Hilo Marathon resulted in a PR time of 3:58. I ran an extra 6 miles (3 before and 3 after)
because I was scheduled for 32 that day. I was heading into the meat of my
season with no foot pain, no weight issues, things were going swell. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had made a switch in shoe companies which I credit for the
lack of foot pain. I switched from the traditional shoe types to oversized
cushy clown shoes. <a href="http://www.hokaoneone.com/" target="_blank">Hoka One One</a>, shoes are amazing and I can not imagine
ever running in anything else. They will get an in depth review on this blog
someday, but they are like taking a bit of heaven and wrapping it around your
foot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I arrived back on the mainland with tons of excitement. I
was now almost 6 months into running with no setbacks or injuries. I was
starting to think I was ready for my first 50 mile race. I got the schedule for
the week prior to the race from my coach and once again he shocked me. No time
off? What, I’m going to run my first 50 mile race and you want me doing a hard
tempo run 3 days before…..this dude was NUTS. What about tapering? Do I not
need to be rested for this huge output of effort?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The explanation I was given, taught me that everything I
thought I knew about training from my other sports, was wrong in regard to this
one. He asked me what my goal race was…obviously the 100 miles. He then told me
why would you want to peak now in April for a race in July? I would not, but
why race when I am so tired?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His reply is so obvious now but was so foreign then. “How do
you think you are going to feel that second 50 of the 100?” Probably pretty
tired, I said. Bingo! Lights went on, of course! I needed to feel what it would
be like to go 50 miles on tired exhausted legs. No wonder this guy was such a
badass, he was an animal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ran what is still to this date, the best race of my life
at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">American</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">River</st1:placetype></st1:place>. I was in control all day, I moved
steadily up the field and when I got to the point where coach told me to let it
all lose I passed a gazillion people. I finished in 10 hours and 25ish minutes
and ran from <st1:city w:st="on">Sacramento</st1:city> to <st1:city w:st="on">Auburn</st1:city>.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxGySnqE0PZHGRTytKVSmRl2LHwflF_Mztxdpw6_QVCVrMpJ8aHT838K2fvC9jZbai518sLWm6x5FiHFa7VkwOyars-Pt8jh4ZCwRxZ_Kb4Kl8h1IWJAV9YzsbDzNRp9B5jeBOEAu8zjI/s1600/SAM_0156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxGySnqE0PZHGRTytKVSmRl2LHwflF_Mztxdpw6_QVCVrMpJ8aHT838K2fvC9jZbai518sLWm6x5FiHFa7VkwOyars-Pt8jh4ZCwRxZ_Kb4Kl8h1IWJAV9YzsbDzNRp9B5jeBOEAu8zjI/s320/SAM_0156.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only some 4 hours an change after coach finished, so close!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The best part about the day was getting to see a couple of friends from
Reno Running and Fitness finish their first 50 mile race as well. We all
triumphed that day. The running joke (excuse the pun) of the day was them
telling me “congrats <st1:city w:st="on">Brandon</st1:city>
you ran just fast enough to run 100 more miles in July”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A little tidbit I have so far left out, though I was signed
up for the race in July of 100 miles I still had not qualified. Not only did I qualify for the upcoming race,
but, I was officially qualified to enter the lottery for Western States in 2011!
I had to run this race under 11 hours to do that, and I beat it by nearly 40
minutes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I ran the Reno Marathon (Rock n River) as a
training run. I ran about 38 miles that day and ran as many people from
Reno Running and Fitness into the finish as I could. I felt
awesome and I was ready. However Silver State would turn out to be the toughest race of the
year.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started the Silver State 50 only minutes from my house, I
knew this course like the back of my hand. The race is on <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Peavine</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Mountain</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Silver State is
considered a mountain 50, <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">American</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">River</st1:placetype></st1:place> was not. I did not realize the true impact of all the extra climbing.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNlB_WxMCBzGrXrC1RT_0rP6PLKlInoJJdJVNkIdvAtPruYtAJdHuGTPKuHPTOwuId-WljJFx5P6zpkuYGk11JxZDxzOLqUKlO53bI4YAKZ7MgAvPuHGCZ1u8rtWjr6_gnJAdfLUVldJ9/s1600/SS50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNlB_WxMCBzGrXrC1RT_0rP6PLKlInoJJdJVNkIdvAtPruYtAJdHuGTPKuHPTOwuId-WljJFx5P6zpkuYGk11JxZDxzOLqUKlO53bI4YAKZ7MgAvPuHGCZ1u8rtWjr6_gnJAdfLUVldJ9/s320/SS50.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots O climbin!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Boy did I not know what I was getting into. Unlike <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">American</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">River</st1:placetype></st1:place> I went out faster than I should
have, blew up at mile 33 and basically had to walk it on in from there. It was
a tough pill to swallow; maybe I was not ready to run 100 miles in the
mountains after all.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A couple of great things happened at the race though, when I
finished I saw the president of the Western States board. This was the same guy
I saw give a lecture at the motivational clinic I went to. It turns out
he was part of the Silver State Striders the same group who mans the Foresthill
aid station at Western States.
The Striders put on the 50 mile race I just got my ass kicked by. I quickly
befriended him on Facebook. Now I also had an “in” with an influential and
clearly experienced board member of Western States. Times were getting good.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also got a pacer for my
run in Tahoe a month or two later. My friend agreed to pace me. He had just
run his first 50 mile race at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Silver</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">State</st1:placetype></st1:place> and finished top 5.
He is still to this day, not only one of the most kind and generous individuals
I have ever been fortunate enough to meet, but he is also one beast of a runner…..all
12 pounds of him! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhwLA6Kcuq0IkesLWmmD2JfeGgiw4rGTVHGBhQecJsxPY1Qu-9MMuloMQKmKZq_bXhnBpecxC9O78EtKkXW4beOA71wFCCBd6b71vHQDfkldcTpNEQw-TuK4cCj0mMXgcZTg-JAbXMPo3/s1600/100+Mile+Finish+Line+-9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhwLA6Kcuq0IkesLWmmD2JfeGgiw4rGTVHGBhQecJsxPY1Qu-9MMuloMQKmKZq_bXhnBpecxC9O78EtKkXW4beOA71wFCCBd6b71vHQDfkldcTpNEQw-TuK4cCj0mMXgcZTg-JAbXMPo3/s200/100+Mile+Finish+Line+-9.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My running was doing great and I was just days from running
my first 100 mile race. I intend to do a report on that as well. Lets just say
the day had it’s challenges and from mile 67 to 93 I pretty much had to walk
the entire time. I finished 44<sup>th</sup> out of 110 people in a time of 31
hours and 50 minutes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzw5JBU5riQOdfb9_Y8C6aoOgvIz7mS3um3ligpMBv5iQ_dePh8YGpai1y8nwR4XFxpH1ZSZVzCPoaTqV8pIPZKFNsnEKPnjzGVBW5qxJ0ofMlwB3HGsmVEOCx21TbQO-YSrzkEVLYOBb/s1600/TRT+100+S+Cozad+W-Time.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzw5JBU5riQOdfb9_Y8C6aoOgvIz7mS3um3ligpMBv5iQ_dePh8YGpai1y8nwR4XFxpH1ZSZVzCPoaTqV8pIPZKFNsnEKPnjzGVBW5qxJ0ofMlwB3HGsmVEOCx21TbQO-YSrzkEVLYOBb/s640/TRT+100+S+Cozad+W-Time.JPG" width="438" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Courtesy of Scott Cozad one of my exceptional crew members.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Not once did I sleep, and I only sat down for about an
hour or so. I finished a run in the mountains….I ran 100 miles and now I was
ready to put my name into the lottery for Western States. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span id="goog_1543977321"></span><span id="goog_1543977322"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5m-WbkpIg1Pc_GFRoC2T7YKsvSRJAvUgCitQ0C1Jbw3r_fmdM9USNKpajVMyGuu7dOjWDVz7Pz_QjTk-KHBgvQMkr6L3huu45A8l5GjL_biZxUh4DypITAIdHvUhOxFJwLyp0YWETjDPx/s1600/Awards+-3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5m-WbkpIg1Pc_GFRoC2T7YKsvSRJAvUgCitQ0C1Jbw3r_fmdM9USNKpajVMyGuu7dOjWDVz7Pz_QjTk-KHBgvQMkr6L3huu45A8l5GjL_biZxUh4DypITAIdHvUhOxFJwLyp0YWETjDPx/s400/Awards+-3.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting my first buckle from George and Dave! I can barely stand upright.</td></tr>
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I had roughly 5
months to recover, then I’d need to be ready to hit the ground running!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18270013531207424703noreply@blogger.com0