Again, I’ve been given yet another opportunity.  And again, vow to make the most of it.  I’m not going to couple it the Grand Slam (the well isn’t deep enough for that).  I will, however, work hard once again and make the most of the opportunity.  I feel my crew and I’s capability is much faster than 23 hours.  I’ll start there and work my way down in formulating a goal.

I’m also going to use this as an opportunity to build a training “system” for ultra races.  Life’s turns have opened opportunities for me to begin coaching.  I love running and learning about running.  I’ve also found that by helping others I get the same satisfaction and I’d really like to explore this and build a great thing for the future.

It’s going to be a great year!

This weekend I’m heading to Fountain Hills Arizona to crew and pace my friend Hao at the Javelina Jundred (100 mile run, contrary to the graphic above… it’s the only one I could lift from the website).  I’m be pacing then running 40 miles in the desert, having a blast, living in the moment.

Best of luck to Hao in bagging a sub 24 performance. And, best of luck to Courtney (Hao’s girlfriend) in surviving your first 100 crewing experience.  This IS going to be fun.

http://www.javelinajundred.com/

But they don’t stop life and its experiences.  So many things are continuing to happen both running and non-running related with odd convergences of my normally separate worlds that are profound moments of life lessons.  General enough?  I can’t divulge too much, as much of what I’m referring to is work related.  But, maybe some day…

And forward we go — may as well because we have no choice.

Beyond that my body feels really, really, good: legs are perfect, stress fracture is non-existent, and my feet have become strangely accustomed to taking a 100 mile beating on a regular basis.  Fours days removed from Leadville my throat became very sore and I ended up in the doctor’s office on Friday.  A quick look down the pie hole and the doctor exclaimed, “Gnarly”!  So for the past week I’ve been on antibiotics.  My throat is feeling much better now.

Beyond that I feel weird mentally – like there’s an internal fog in my head.  I don’t get as excited over things.  Maybe it’s best described as a mild depression.  That’s really what’s kept me from writing a Leadville report.  I just don’t feel like it.  I also know this is a common experience following a long ultra.  After Cascade Crest I remember a similar post-run state but more amplified — everything is more amplified after your first 100, especially the pain.  I know it’ll pass.  But it is curious to experience in the midst of a successful, 3 of 3, Grand Slam run.

7 days and counting.

Initially Jen wasn’t going to make it, which didn’t help my crappy feelings, but we’ve patched an SLC trip together with Grandparent time, Wells Fargo Rewards Points, and an in-race crew diversion to the airport.  That just happened today.  I’m cheering up already!  She’ll be at the finish.

Race Photos:

Overview:

In comparison Vermont is easier than my other 100 mile races (Cascade Crest and Western States), but I wouldn’t label it “easy” but “different”.  A large portion of the course is on hard packed dirt or paved roads.  Following each turn there’s a hill.  Strangely at most manned aid stations you entered on a downhill and leave on an uphill.  There’s minimal single track trail and an occasional field crossing.  The aid stations are frequent, too frequent really – including 2-3 unofficial aid stations.  Unfortunately we stopped at all of them, which tallied 32-33 aid stations total – a large drain on our finishing time.  The trail marking was superb and as promised every 0.2 miles.  We never got lost; remarkable considering our 0% familiarity of the area.  The weather was hot at the mid 80s with moderate humidity.   Crew would have helped a lot here.  In particular Camp 10 Bear was difficult to navigate in a timely manner.  Running with horses was a welcomed distraction.  The riders were over the top accommodating to the runners; they truly shared the trails/roads with us giving us complete right of way.

Sharing an ultra in its entirety can develop strong friendships:

Running an entire 100 mile event with someone adds an additional race element, something I hadn’t experienced outside of running with a pacer.  In many ways it’s like having a pacer that’s been beaten just the same – whose focus isn’t so much on you.  There’s a communal energy that forms.  I’m aware of his state, and he of mine, but most of my focus is on me.  We’re not micro-sitting each other but there’s macro-sitting in play.  Beyond functional vitals, we take turns sharing life – often when the other is going through an energy low.  I learned so much about Eric who inspires me beyond running and into life:  being a father,  a husband, and a professional.  Maybe I taught him something too.

Extreme events accentuate character, good or bad:

Taking yourself through an extreme event peels layers away exposing who you are.  If you’ve lost your identity, hours on the trail can reveal you, sometimes going a step farther and creating you.  It can build self confidence as you drive through mental and physical walls.  For some their happiness bursts out illuminating the trail.  Others have pits of anger festering that are being worked out, like a trail-bound therapy session.  Me?  I get happy while running.  Not bubbling at the seams happy, but talkative and social happy.  Stress flows away and I live more in the moment than in everyday life.  I’m constantly trying to pull some of that ultra-me into everyday life.

An ailing runner can be highly influenced:

Vermont had many first time 100 mile runners; many that hadn’t found their 100 mile running selves.  There was unnecessary carnage on the trails.  My thoughts went to them…  That state can be a chaotic maze.  Bad advice taken can end your race.  Good advice can revive it.  When you come in bad everyone has an opinion of what must be done. You hope the knowledgeable person speaks the loudest and at that time, you’re listening.

Tolerating pain:

I was lead to a discovery about myself by Eric. My high pain tolerance is both a good and bad quality. The good is obvious. Ultras deal pain.  If you can tolerate it you can finish faster.  The bad, when things aren’t working I tend to just suck it up and hurt rather than partition and resolve the issue. This is a barrier to me learning how to run a 100 mile correctly.  Ideally I strive to have issues under control AND utilize a my pain tolerance – that’s my path to incredible 100 mile performances.

Long aid station stops snowball:

Don’t stop for more than 5 minutes in an ultra. Movement, however slow, is an important component of success.  Longer than 5 minutes and your body begins to react to the stoppage by tensing muscles, halting pain relieving endorphins, and getting you lost in time.  Additionally, the longer the aid station break the longer it’ll take you to warmup your running muscles when you hit the trail again.  Be aware and timely at aid stations.  Have a plan and get in and then out!  The death march is akin to this, but rather than an aid station stop it’s a plodding pace.  Shock the system and run!  Break the slowing momentum and get moving – no matter how much it hurts to take the first running step.  If you don’t you’ll slowly resolve to walking it in.  Trust me, this will burn 2 days after the race when the pain subsides.  Run.

There’s an odd “thing” amongst some runners, when finishing 100 miles is “just” finishing:

While walking away from the finish line another Grand Slammer approached with an identical hobble.  “Hey, how’d ya do?”  I replied, “Good, 25 hours and 47 minutes”.  His face contorted in confusion, blurting out, “You mean I beat you!?!?”  I paused then said… “Well, if you beat 25 hours and 47 minutes then yes.  How did you do?”  From there the conversation turned into a blurred run down of how all the other Grand Slammers did, most in the sub-24 region and some in the 21 and 22 hour finishing times.  The scene laid out an interesting external dichotomy of my races, Western States verses Vermont.  By the numbers I was “suppose” to run a sub 22 hour Vermont.  This GSer knew that and had an off-the-cuff reaction which belittled my time and Vermont finish in one fell swoop.  Non-intentional but it happened.  And as I received my plaque instead of my sub-24 buckle it stung a bit; there was disappointment.  I didn’t have the “glow” of many of the first time 100 milers that pranced around with their plaques taking momentous family pictures one after the next.  My finish was just a finish – but I allowed it to be that way.  The onus was on me.

One week removed from the race, I now realize running a 25-26 hour Vermot could be the single best thing I did.  My resulting recovery is multitudes better (in feeling and time) than after Western States which will allow me to GAIN needed training in the 5 weeks until Leadville – not just recover.  I’m running already, injury free with fresh feeling legs.  This will allow me to hit Leadville strong and ideally carry over into the big race, Wasatch.

Wasatch is going down as a sub-30 hour finish (akin to a sub-24 Western States).

However, it’s still one race at a time.  Leadville is my 100% focus.

Twitter #vt100 Feed.

Goal?  It would be nice to do sub 24 (over 24 and you get a plaque, blehhh, under a buckle).  But, I’ll see what transpires.  I’ll be running with good friend Eric and if we can synchronize our peaks and valleys it can go very well.  Most of all, I’m looking to enjoy my tour of Vermont.

Vermont bound via United … by way of Boston.

• it is in the specificity of training runs to the race
• it is in building your body’s diversity through alternative training
• it is in understanding your body’s endurance needs
• it is in reading and responding to your body’s imbalances during a run
• it is in having a strong mind + strong motivation
• it is in being relaxed and having fun

For the 2011 running of the Western States 100 I toed the line with my minimal training mileage, yet stress fracture mostly healed.  I was focused and determined.  Last year was my “course tour” sightseeing year.  This year was business given the reality of a possible 4-5 year spell of not being selected in future WS lotteries.  For added motivation I made a deal with my wife and kids.  If I finished sub-24 the boys would cross the finish line with me.  If my time extended over 1 day, I finished alone.  Period.  No exceptions.  To drive the emotions deep the weeks preceding race day the boys and I talk endlessly about how I needed their help at the finish line.  They were more excited than I to be there and help daddy run it in.  This proved to be a huge mental drive for me during the race.

Pre-Race:

I shared great moments with family and friends in the days preceding this year’s Western States.  We stayed in a house just outside of Squaw and enjoyed the time together, not letting the “big dance” dominate our time.  We walked to the nearby river, spent time at the Circus Circus video arcade in Reno, and had a wonderful pre-race meal prepared by good friend Hao.

I saw fellow CRC runner Eric and family during check-in;  he’s a huge inspiration to me not only in running but life.  Good friend Jose was working the swag line and made a non-subtle, enthusiastic, prod for me to silver buckle while featuring his year old trophy adorning his wife’s belt.

Despite the low-key atmosphere, I was way more stressed than last year — especially the day before the race; I slept maybe 3 hours on the bedroom floor as my mind cycled non-stop mentally running through the course.  It was exhausting.

Photo by Glen Tachiyama

The Race Begins:

We all scurried up to Escarpment with a burst of excitement.  My morphing race plan locked on to pushing this section harder than last year in order to avoid the log jams on the snow laden single tracks ahead.  I summitted just shy of 1 hour with PCTR acquaintance Patrick DeLaPace on his first WS attempt.  This year’s snow was far more challenging than last both in course coverage and its icy top layer.  While traversing the 100-200 yard, 45 degree angled snow drifts I saw 2 runners slide 40-50 feet downhill suffering some nasty abrasions.  I fell my share, but found my skinny ass had an advantage in icy snow traverses.

To Duncan Canyon 23.1 Miles (9:20AM):

The snow extended well into the course with lots of ice cold flowing water.  The feet were wet, often and early.  The drop to French Meadows reservoir was clear of snow allowing for some fast paced miles.  I averaged a few 8:00 min miles but was passed frequently.  It was here last year I puked and was happy to breeze by feeling much better and easily fueling with GUs every 40 minutes.  I met a few Grand Slammer here too sporting a “GS” sticker (I missed the meeting and didn’t have one).

Arriving at Duncan Canyon was great.  There’s a lot of energy there fueled by the Quicksilver Running Club.  I was thrilled to see Clare Abrams and Pierre here!  Camera crews were everywhere.  I felt like a trail celebrity.  A quick glance at the 24 hour pink sign put me at 30 minutes ahead of pace and 2 minutes ahead of my pace chart.  Things were great.

To Last Chance 43.3 Miles (1:20PM):

Pulling out of Last Chance began the serious course re-route due to this year’s high snow packs.  Unfortunately it was primarily on fire roads which I hate and tend to lose focus while running.  Through thinking about my boys, my music, and being in a great pack that was really pushing the pace I numbed it out and continued to pick up time aid station to the next.  It was a motivating surprise to see good friend Jose on the course 2-3 times showing me his silver buckle and exclaiming, “They’re giving these things out in 75 miles!  Go get one!”  It wasn’t his words that propelled but his unbridled enthusiasm.  See him was wonderful and gave me a chance to check on friend Eric.  “He’s doing great, now concentrate on you!”

Photo by Glen Tachiyama

Patrick, a fleet footed older gentleman, and myself blasted through Mosquito Ridge, Miller’s Defeat, and Dusty Corner’s.  They would lead while I would slowly close the gap and catch them at the aid station.  This was repeated many times making for a fun game with great mental distraction.  Between Dusty and Last Chance I suffered a low energy spell requiring some walking breaks; nothing too serious.  At Last Chance I was now +35 minutes up on 24 hour pace with my speedy buddies pulling ahead.

At Last Chance I regrouped with extra salt, tums, and mangos.  My weight was 147 lbs (3 up on my starting weight but I was doused in water).  With an active recovery in place I took off for the canyons.

To Michigan Bluff 55.7 Miles (4:29PM):

Unlike last year I was fueled and ready for the canyons.  The downhills were a blast as I tore down the switchback to the swinging bridge.  Once at the bottom the ascent up Devil’s Thumb commenced.  I dropped down in the farside waterfall, fully submersing to waist deep.  A camera crew popped out in the trail ahead and began interviewing me which caught me by complete surprise.  That’ll be an embarrassing video clip if it gets out!

I charged the Thumb in great spirits catching many runners.  I chatted up some film crews along the way that camped out at the steepest section of the climb.  It was a great climb for me.  I popped out at the aid station, grabbed a Popsicle, salt tabs, and some chicken broth.  Leaving the aid station I bit into the S!Cap and promptly vomited.  Too much salt!  I heaved for 6 goes in the bushes then fast walked while eating my Popsicle.  It was tremendous!  Things starting shifting into place and I put on some tunes.   Eric and I’s training runs here were fresh on my mind — just a few weeks ago we were caught in a very cold snow/rain storm here and threatened going hypothermic but were saved by the good nature of some Michigan Bluff residents.

Momentum built and I began tearing down this section.  I was elated at the thought of seeing Jen in 2 aid stations.  It was a tear down to El Dorado canyon and up to Michigan Bluff.  I caught Patrick on the uphill and he was having a low spell.  I tried pulling him a bit but he was entrenched.  MB was a great uplift.  I saw Jen and Denise.  I was all smiles as this marked the turning point in which I’d get to shared the race with family and friends.  It was huge lift AND I was rewarded with seeing I had +51 minutes on 24 hour pace!  I was in disbelief I felt good and was on a great finishing pace!  I began to really believe.  And, I heard good news of Eric too.  He was consistently 11 minutes behind me!

To Foresthill 62 Miles (5:52PM):

I was running on elation at this point.  I really don’t like the long fire roads leading out of MB but emotionally I numbed my mind of them.  At this point I was feeling slightly dehydrated and my pee had turned a darker color.  In retrospect this wasn’t dehydration but some blood in my urine.  Other than that I was still moving well and peeing regularly.  I caught up to fellow grand slammer Yosuke and wished him well.  He too had his wife and 2 young kids at the race cheering him to the finish.

I pushed the pace through Volcano Canyon climbed the rise to Bath Road with lots of energy and a smile while passing 1 runner who complimented me on my uphill speed.  I was pleasantly surprised to see Eric’s daughter and her boyfriend cheering me on from an uphill overlook above the Bath Road AS.  That was and awesome prelude to what was ahead at Foresthill.

Up Bath Road I went, rocking out to some AC/DC while power walking / running.  I was jostled from my musical daze when Hao and Ron met me at the intersection of Foresthill Road.  We ran into the aid station under a blissful barrage cheers and familiar smiling faces.  The Coastside Running Club gang was fully present: George, Amanda, Gary, and Margaret.  It was wonderful to see EVERYONE and be in such good spirits to return their great energy.  After a quick weigh-in I shot through the aid station and to my crewing spot just down the street.  I was surprised to see that Jen made it back from Michigan Bluff and had everything set out for a quick shoe+sock change.  Good friend Jose stopped by and congratulated me on a solid 100k while I ate Jen’s baby food / malto-meal concoction that was delicious!  As a sped off with Hao pacing, Jose (a sub-24 finisher in 2010) reassured me saying this was exactly the time he left Foresthill last year and to run smart.  A quick kiss with Jen and a hurried “I’ll see you in Auburn” to Eli and Max and off to Cal Street I went.

To Rucky Chucky Near 78.1 Miles (9:42PM):

The run to the river was two things to me 1) wonderful time with friend Hao on great trails and sharing the river in daylight and 2) a slight but progressive deterioration of my legs and feet.  As I like it, nothing too eventful happened as the miles ticked down.  Darkness had really set in once at the river crossing.  I weighted in at 144.5 lbs and Hao hurried me to the boat.  I was accosted in the night by a photo setup crew briefly dividing Hao and I but we got into a departing raft to see Jen and Ron across the river.  Getting down into the raft I really feet my stiff legs.  These weren’t the energetic appendages of WS2010.

To “Highway 49″ 93.5 Miles (2:15AM):

Across the river was Jen, wonderful Jen.  She had just gotten there 5 minutes before us amazingly and had the Starbuck’s double shot that I had been dreaming about for 4 hours.  Oh bless her!  I asked about Eric and Jen paused momentarily.  I quickly jumped in and said, “If it’s bad, don’t tell me now.”  We went on to talk about other things while the group of Hao, Ron, Jen, and I marched up to Green Gate.  Ron took over as pacer here and immediately began driving a solid running pace.  The only caveat for me was it was uphill and my legs had nearly 80 miles on them.  When the caffeine kicked in Ron’s pull drew me away from Jen and we were in and out of Green Gate before they arrived.  Off into the horizontal canyons we went, nothing to challenging but always so drawn out; it’s like there’s a black hole in those woods morphing time.  We finally made it to Highway 49 and I at this point the steep down hill really hurt my toes and legs.  Coming into the AS I weighed in at 144 lbs and stopped in for a quick refueling; grabbing ginger ale and soup.  The soup went down fine.  The ginger ale immediately evoked nausea.  I proceeded out of the aid station not well.  Ron had to return to the AS for water.  I intended to go ahead but instead spent my alone time vomiting, 6 to 7 upheavals in the darkness with my headlamp doused.  Ron returned and we marched onward.  I decided the vomiting was a salt issue and increased my intake while chowing down ginger candy.  Few calories = slow movement + tired / cranky demeanor.  However, I pressed on.  Brown’s Bar came and went with yet another camera crew and a man dressed as Raggedy Ann.

I made it to Highway 49 pretty much feeling like hell, but Jen and Hao were there.  AND I was almost done.  I ate what I could, Hao forced me to take a grilled cheese sandwich (thank goodness!!!), then was off.  I knew I had a 50 minute buffer on 24 but knew it still wasn’t a lock given how I felt: 7 miles is still 7 miles.

To Placer High School Track 100.2 Miles (4:08AM):

The running picked up, the Tylenol kicked in and I had some swagger back.  I was swept up in a 23 hour pack that drove one another mile after the next.  Some pulled away on the downhills but we caught many on the flats and ups.  Ron guided me to the No Hands Bridge AS that I was getting to see AT NIGHT with the Christmas lights and big screen TV.  It was then that the sub-24 reality began to sink in.   It was transitioning to a reality with only 2 miles to go.  Every runner around was in blissful pain.  There was the possibly of breaking 23 hours, if my legs were fresh.  Ron being the same type of fast finisher as myself drove for it.  I responded with what I had as we ran well during the Robie Point stretch passing a number of people.  Then we hit the last climb with 15 minutes ’till 4:00AM and I told Ron there’s a large climb out of the aid station.  Last year on really good legs I made that section in 15 minutes.  This time it’s not in the cards, let’s just enjoy this!

We summited Robie Point to the all night parties of Auburn: bonfires, disco balls, Christmas lights, …  A lady yelled, “Welcome to Auburn, this one’s for you!” and struck a large bell.  Everyone along the course cheered.  What really got me is when someone would say, “You did it!”  Somehow, those 3 words made it real.

As we neared the track I invited Ron to run with me as opposed to running 5 feet ahead.  The pace was enjoyable and the finishing energy was soothing.  We pulled onto the track and I scanned for my boys.  I saw Max running circles on the infield and he too spotted me right away yelling, “Daddy!!!”  Eli and Max met me on the straightaway pulling in for a 23:08 finish.  I gave Jen an huge hug and kiss… high fives all around to Hao, Ron, Brian, Sona, George, Gary, Amanda… It was amazing.  An experience worth the investment multitudes over.

When back from Vermont, I’ll write-up a “medical wrap up” discussing my blood and urine test results.

It will happen.  One Day, 100 Miles.

Watch me:

http://m.ultralive.net/webcast.php

Then it’s on to taking care of the Grand Slam.

A few weeks ago I was running a route that passed by the De Anza community college track.  Typically I’ll bounce onto the track, run a mile, then scurry off to my primary destination – the gym or maybe Togos.  Coming closer I heard the faint sound of music and crowds cheering.  My mind immediately drew correlations to a Western States finish, the sounds of Finely Street, with my imagination ushering me to a soon-to-be 2011 finish.

Naturally I strided toward the De Anza track in a my dream-like grandeur.  I could almost hear Tia Boddington calling my name!  As I turned off “Finely” street crossing “Stadium” on the way to set foot on the finishing track, I found myself immersed in the Kwanis Special Games.   Immediately I was surprised at the enormity of the event and bright yellow shirts flooding the normally deserted track.  To my left a  500m dash heat started in relative silence as a loosely assembled pack of children in powered wheel chairs quietly whirred by.  There I stand, with a lesson of perspective laid out before me.  Today was THEIR Western States finish.  Their race? … the entire year leading up to this singular day.  Everyday a fight.

Running 100 miles is special, but often overlooked are those around us that have accomplished far greater physical and mental triumphs.

With the closure of this park the La Honda Fat Butt route will also fall victim to the CA park woes.  This closure breaks the “crown jewel” Slate Creek trail connection of Long Ridge Open Space to Pescadero Creek County Park and beyond; at least officially.  There is another way around — and it’s a LONG way around that pushes out the the Skyline-to-Sea trail, down to Big Basin, then cuts across an easement to emerge in Pescadero Creek.  Maybe a 50 mile adventure for 2012?

To bid adieu to the current route, I’ll pull together one last HuRahhH for the La Honda Fat Butt in 2011.  Maybe to celebrate my good friend Hao who turns an ancient 35 this year!  Stay tune for the date!