Dr Pepper

Spinach salad to start off the day again. The stuff is rocket fuel and I'm glad summer and fresh produce are right around the corner. Did an hours worth of running and nonstop work stuff since then. Only need to make it 'til Saturday, Jimmy Buffett is rolling into KC and I'm gonna take my liver on a long run.

Tony Clark is in the 10am start group for Badwater. That is perfect, if you know Tony he would not be satisfied unless he's challenged with the hardest possible scenario. Of course, any guy who takes off on a 225 mile weekend jaunt is just not built like the rest of us...

Just finished reviewing the results from Free State. Can't wait to read the reports. I'm curious what the average swim:run ratio was (it's a bit muddy this time of year. Actually, parts of the trail are muddy in AUGUST).

Reading "The Ragged Edge of Silence" by John Francis, so upset over an oil spill back in the early 70's that he spent nearly the next 20 years walking everywhere. And took a vow of silence for about the same time. Considering giving it to some co-workers, maybe that silence thing will stick....

And just so you know, since you've figured out I have nothing to post about...this blog currently fueled by Dr. Pepper. Peace.

Dog bone

Every morning, usually around 8am, my dog comes in my room. Although he doesn't talk, if he did I imagine the first words I would hear are something along the lines of: "I need to pee, poo, and then I want my dog bone!" He has gotten his treat every morning for the past 6 years, but paws and jumps around as if I might somehow forget to give it to him. Once the bone exchange has taken place, there is nothing in the world more important to the dog. He doesn't drink water, growl at noises, or join me on the couch. The bone is the thing, until the end.

So I signed up for the Heartland 100. Given my penchant for paying 100 miler fees to run 50k-50 miles, it's not a stretch to call it a ridiculous proposition. The 100 mile distance, much like the bone, demands my attention. I must do it, just like my dog must treat that bone like a task that has to be completed. I am as excited and nervous as the dog is every morning. Back to reading blogs religously for any iota of training particulate that could propel my own. Wondering what the heck happened around mile 30 last year. No matter. It's an annual race, and I'm gonna keep at the thing until I'm done.

Good to have the bone back.

2011

(Above: in a land far, far away)

Not dwelling on 2010. The short story is that I took DNF to a whole new level, did a number on my hamstring, and fell way short of any goals I had set for running. After the appropriate amount of booze, I went to the calendar and planned this year.

Retraining is gonna take a minute, but in May I'll be doing a 50k or 50 mile in SC. Not sure which option I'm gonna go for, as much of it depends on how quickly my strength returns. If I can't manage speed work by about the third week in April I'll stick with 50K. My feature race is the Speedgoat 50K in July, which I am going to walk with Willie Lambert. Willie was kind enough to register both of us, and it's not too much of a stretch to believe there will be no drinkable alcohol in the entire state of Utah the day after the race, between the two of us. September will see me in Colorado, never been there, and we're gonna spend a week in Steamboat Springs running a couple low-mileage, local events. That, plus I'm excited about the breweries, and need your suggestions if you've been there.

I'll probably throw in a marathon or nine between here and there, but the plans I've set are purposefully low on glitter for several reasons. Aside from a few trips to the brewery, much of the year is planned around diet and strength goals. I have a few, and a mostly vegetarian existence is something I've been toying with for long enough to know I feel better without so much meat in the system.

Somehow, ending this post with a plug for vegetarian diets doesn't seem right, so time for joke of the day: How do porcupines mate? Very carefully! Classic.

Blindfolded

Been feeling like I have a blindfold on lately, but this time it has nothing to do with Valentines Day.

Between incline work, weights, running, and getting my diet back it has been a pretty tame existence. And necessary, I think, to quiet the little voice in my head that reminds me "but you've never done 100 before". Base building took FOREVER, but I finally feel ready to get after it a bit in training, to push just a bit harder and have some confidence in my body to respond. My approach to Western States barely resembles any training plans I had a year ago at this time. Yet the blindfold effect still lingers. Is this really the right way? Does my training reflect a patient, well-thought out plan to succeed, or am I just getting in shape for a big fat DNF?

Although this internal chatter is minimal, I suspect the paranoia will increase in a few months. Lately I've been keeping the self-doubt at bay by going harder...it's hard to think about whether you're doing the right thing while gasping for air or doing the 5th set on the squat rack. Hopefully Rockin' K, Berryman, and the Hawk marathon will provide enough distraction to weather the heavy mileage months with some degree of sanity.

I should note that one thing in my routine is absolutely solid. Every night when I lay down I read something that has to do with Western States. Course descriptions, books, other runners race reports...even if I've already read those items. I close my eyes and slip away to a place where I don't see myself crossing a finish line, or earning a certain buckle. Instead, I visualize rededicating myself to tomorrow and the infinite possibilities it holds. THAT is why I started running. So I tell the little voice in my head that this thing has already been a raging success, no matter the outcome.
Peace.

Beer and yard work

I left for the Ozark Trail 100 thinking about the leaves in my yard.

I did a fair amount of raking the weekend before, but with several mature trees in my yard holding onto their growth I knew it wouldn't be the last time I put on a pair of work gloves. Still, leaving for the run I felt a bit of a twinge of guilt (maybe too heavy a word) over going to the race when there was work to be done around the house.

As it turned out, I didn't know from leaves. But we'll save that for a minute.

I rode down to the race with Dave and Jess Wakefield and Ryne Melcher. David and Ryne would be running, while Jess and I would provide the encouragement while attempting to remain sober. Ryne is a member of Team Montrail, currently residing in British Columbia. If I remember my geography, British Columbia is just the other side of Holton, so wanting to be helpful right from the start I explained what a cheeseburger was as we pulled into Sonic for some fuel. Ryne is a good sport, even if he does live in New Zealand. With proper fuel on board, we headed towards Steelville, Missouri for the pre-race briefing. Rumor had it that the briefing would last about an hour, so I brought a case of beer to try to make it through. After the briefing, we headed to the hotel and some last-minute pizza before turning in.

With ultra-running legend Willie Lambert in tow, we found the start line about 515 the next morning. Over one hundred runners were toeing the line for the inagural OT100. At 6am sharp they were off, with Jeff Browning, Ben Creehan, David, and Ryne leading the charge. Time for the crew to start drinking. Or half the crew, as Jess made some silly excuses about the sun not being up yet, that she had to drive, etc. Whatever, man. Just under three hours later we met Dave and Ryne at the "Deliverance" themed aid station, staffed by Colleen and Debbie among others. Of course, Dave needed something that we had left in the car, and while he left without whatever it was I made a firm resolve to back off the beer. This was going to be work!

At mile 43 I was surprised at how good Dave and Ryne looked. Jess and I were in rythym by then, and although we never had any plans I think that crewing just comes naturally after you've been around it. Whereas when you run you make a plan, crewing happens based on the runners needs and mood, so to plan anything is mostly wishful thinking. But we were a pretty decent team for having know each other for twelve hours. I attempted to jam a lube stick up Rynes' shorts, but he was so insistent that I be gentle I handed the job over to him. Fine, see if I put my hand in your pants again! After seeing the boys off Jess and I found a general store with a lunch counter and tucked into about 10,000 calories worth of food, our first meal of the day.

Anywho, mile 68 found me wanting to run. Just in case I was needed I had brought my gear and wanted to get it on before dark. The guys arrived feeling ok, and took some time to refuel here. They were both running a smart, conservative race and I think this was when I believed they would finish well. Sure, they had over 33 miles to go (the official distance was 101.5 miles) but the two of them seemed dialed in and unbreakable. My new plan was this: if they get to Berryman without needing company, I'm gonna demolish some beers.

I decided to do some pre-work and had about five while talking with the Berryman folks. Tony Clark, Kyle and Stacy Amos, and Deb Johnson...I was among ultra-royalty! The time passed too quickly, and I was trying to get some ultra advice from this group without being too nosy when Dave and Ryne popped out of the woods. They were looking REALLY good, even at the 80 mile mark, when Dave says "We need another pair of eyes."

Awesome, I am tightening my laces before he gets the sentence complete. Dave goes on: "Now I know you've been drinking...". I cut him off - a couple of beers isn't gonna cause me to piss a kidney! Let the lying begin. Pacers lie, and I was starting before we took the first step. I inhaled a cup of noodles and off we go. The leaves were unbelievable. They had to be three inches deep, and as the night wore on and I got tired I couldn't make out the trail. I lost it a couple of times, but luckily the experience in the group got us back on course quickly. The rocks uner the leaves were impossible to see, and I went butt-over-tea-kettle, feet in the air at least twice. Suddenly, I didn't feel as bad about the yard work I left behind. The remaining 20 miles saw Dave and Ryne on auto-pilot, and I learned a good bit about the final stages of a 100 as night turned into morning.

Congratulations to both of them for showing up prepared and nailing it. Also, it is another long story to detail how Jess was critical to the mission, and without her this doesn't get written. But a great time, and a perfect way for me to end the "season"...having fun, taking a jog in the woods with friends, and arriving home to realize that there is always another day to work in the yard.
Peace.

Who I am and who I ain't

So, last weekend I went over to try my luck at the Blue Springs 50KM. I could have also registered for the 50 miler (not enough long runs of late), a marathon (somehow that didn't seem appealing), or a half-marathon (gimme a break, if I'm making that drive it's not gonna be for a half). Dave Wakefield called me the night before the race with the course description: pancake flat, and he was very accurate. Compared to the wonderful trail system at Perry, Blue Springs is a cakewalk. So, an easy course, coupled with amazing weather, allowed me to surprise myself and finish in a shade under five hours. During the race I managed my heart rate well and pounded the electrolytes so my under-trained legs wouldn't cramp. With so many obstacles removed (weather, terrain, etc), I had plenty of time to think about what this season has meant and what I want from running next year. Some observations:

- A DNF at Heartland and Nathaniel's Run in late 2008 were the two best things that ever happened to me as far as 2009 has went. The DNF gets alot of bad press by some, but in my view you stand to learn as much from failing as you do from finishing.

- I must have looked at that Rocky Raccoon finshers medal 100 times in the week after the race. I don't know why, it looked the same every time. I guess it was just a big relief that I finally officially belonged to the ultra club.

- Free State was a blast, and I was in no way prepared for that much mud. I also was not prepared for tornado warnings ending the race prematurely, but the thought that I was capable of finishing was comforting. This was also the race where I learned that in some events, the gear you wear ain't coming out alive. Best to just bury it and buy more stuff.

- Berryman 50: I finally went into a race "ready". By that I mean I didn't call Willie Lambert three times a day the week before the race worried about cough/cold issues, nutrition, tapering bloat, sleep patterns, or the shape of my poop. A gear issue prevented me from nailing a good time, but I was encouraged that I had "matured" enough as an ultrarunner to understand that these things happen and the only thing to do was finish. This was also my wifes' introduction to crewing, and for her it provided some insight as to why I was either lifting weights or running 20hours a week.

- Pacing Western States: first look at a HUGE race, and first look at someone (Willie) digging deep. I am convinced that the ten hours we were out there will remain my all-time favorite running experience.

- And finishing up with Blue Springs, where I'm starting to be able to identify my strengths and weaknesses as a runner. While my pace is usually slower than 90% of the field, holding said pace is a definite strength I must continue to capitalize on. And I really like starting out slow, I'm not talented enough to blast off the start line doing 8mph. I'd like to see my training become more purposeful, making sure I'm doing the right workout at the right pace and intensity. I have had some highs and lows here, and just want to do a little work to make that training consistently productive and not as haphazard.

- While I don't necessarily view it as a huge opportunity, I need to resign myself to the fact that I actually like doing the bulk of my running by myself. I am envious of those who run in packs not just for the social aspect, but running with someone above my ability (read: nearly everyone who has ever laced up a pair of shoes) could push my own workouts. However, somewhere in my DNA there is a "does not play well with others" gene that motivates me to spend an inordinate amount of time alone. It's one of those things that you might not like about yourself, but you aren't willing to change it.

- I also have a 2009 goal around volunteerism that includes trail work. I love working the aid stations, but I enjoy Perry so much I need to do more to help with the upkeep. Need to get in touch with Lyle over the winter and see what we can come up with to keep me actively involved with the local trail scene when I'm not running. For now, I'm going to build some miles and get ready for next year...and hopefully my first 100.
Peace.

Get outta town

For those interested, here's the 2010 schedule I'm looking at:

24 hours of Utah/Moab 100...March

Free State...April

Rocky Mountain Double Marathon, Laramie...May

Leadville

Heartland

If you want to get outta town, let me know. We just got some openings for next years bus (which isn't a bus at all, but you get the idea).