Sweet Defeat

Some thoughts about yesterday's race:

I finished 2nd in a time of 6:40:53, about 8 minutes faster than the previous course record. Uli Steidl won the race in a time of 6:33 and change!

Uli ran away with the race coming out of the aid station at mile 39. To that point he and I had run within a few hundred feet of each other the entire way. From about mile 14 on we were separated from the rest of the field. In that 25 mile span from mile 14 to mile 39 we were never more than 10 feet apart. We took turns in the lead and most of the time I felt like we were connected such that we couldn't separate if we wanted to. It felt like we were literally dragging each other down the trail with a 5 foot rope holding us together. We both took the same amount of time at aid stations and we both seemed to be running with the same strengths, that is to say fast on the uphills, fast on the flats, and fast on the downhills. I had assumed that Uli was not that fast on more technical trail, being that most of his racing in the past few years has been on roads. That was definitely the wrong assumption. We ran the technical downhill after PanToll (mile 30) about as fast as one could possible imagine and I couldn't even hear him behind me. He just seemed to hover along a few inches off the ground. For most of the run we hardly talked at all but I felt like we were communicating so much just from sharing the same experience so closely. I felt so focused on moving forward in conjunction with Uli that there almost seemed to be no space in my mind for words. Because of this the times we did speak seemed really significant and almost shocking at times. Simple one sentence statements seemed like profound thesis at the time, because they tended to speak also of the previous 30 minutes of silence. Each word seemed to convey a thousand thoughts. I don't think I have ever felt as tuned in to another runner during a race.

Eventually my body broke down. I made up my mind at around mile 20 that I was going to stay with Uli as long as I could. I wasn't going to fade back slowly to improve my chances of staying strong and thus remain more likely to maintain 2nd place. I was running to win and the only way I was going to be able to do that was staying right there with him. I was not going to let him out of my sight unless I had no physical ability left to keep him there. For several miles (around mile 28-35) I even felt a confidence that I might be able to be the one to pull away from him on one of the difficult climbs in the last 10 miles of the race.

It wasn't meant to be for me though. When my strength began to waver on the climb up out of Muir Beach (mile 39) he was gone out of sight almost immediately. It felt weird to be right there with him for so long and then suddenly he was long gone. I kind of liked the quickness of it all though. I was able to just let him go in my mind and begin to instantly focus on getting my situation corrected. My legs were cramping and I was short on calories. I walked uphill and rubbed my cramping quads, drank lots of fluid, and ate as many calories as I could stomach. Gradually life came back to my physical body and I was able to finish strong.

It would have been nice to win, but it was an absolute honor to share that experience with Uli and I am completely humbled by the race he ran. For 39 miles I was able to push my body to a limit just slightly below collapse. Uli was able to convince his body to stay at that limit for the full 50 miles. I know that my name has been thrown around by some people for Ultrarunning performance of the year (either for HURT, Wasatch, or Mountain Masochist), but Uli's run yesterday was without question a more impressive performance than what I did in any of these races. It was the most impressive running performance I have ever seen in person, replacing what Dave Mackey did at Miwok '08.

It might sound strange but this may have been my most satisfying race of '09. My body failed me before the finish, but my mind dealt with this failure in such a healthy and satisfying way. I had a deeply satisfying and connected experience running with Uli all day. And probably most satisfying of all was that I got to share this race with some of the most important people in my life. I had 8 people that I love dearly there with me at the finish. People that came from all over the continent and made my experience more complete than it ever could have been otherwise.

Going Back To Cali

Hopping on a jet plane tomorrow to head down to San Francisco for the North Face race. I have so many mixed feelings about this one. I have run 3 races on these Marin trails and in some ways they have all been bad races for me. But I have also found a lot of good in these races and feel like I have learned what I need to have a good race down there. I know that I can run a lot faster on these trails then I have previously, but I also know that there are at least 4 other guys in this race who can also run faster on these trails than any of my previous efforts. It should be fun to see how it shakes out.

As a racer there really isn't anything more intense than running against the best runners your sport has to offer and knowing that you do have a chance to win that battle. I know I am not likely to win. I think most folks (and with good reason) are picking Dave Mackey or Uli Steidl for the win, but I am excited to go down south and try to make the unlikely happen. I really don't have anything to lose by running with the intention of being the first one to cross the finish line.

Change Of Pace

Not a lot going on with my running right now. Just running some average runs each day and trying to accept the fact that the trails are all snowed in and that most of my mileage for the next several months will be on the roads or on cross country skis.

It's amazing to me how quickly I've accepted this reality though. As recently as a week ago the thought of running on roads sounded awful, but now I feel fine with it. I'm going to put in 25-30 miles of road running tomorrow. This will probably be more total mileage of pavement than I ran the entire summer and fall combined. For some reason though I am comfortable with this. I guess it's just another example of how fluidly our bodies and minds can adapt to change as long as we don't get too attached to our fears and pre-conceived ideas about what this change will look like.

Finding My Place - MMTR Race Report

I went into this race having almost no idea what to expect. I convinced myself in the days before the race that I needed to be prepared to accept whatever outcome I found. I had had problems with my hamstring for several days the week before the race and I just didn't know if I had much of my fitness left that I had built up over the summer. My training through the month of October wasn't bad, but at the time it didn't seem very good either. I just kind of ran each day with almost no focus on how far or for how long. Toward the end of the month I thought for certain that I wasn't running nearly as much as I probably "should" have been. Turns out this was completely wrong. Apparently the rest was just what I needed.

My hamstring started to hurt just a few strides into this race. I thought for sure I was going to have to deal with that pain throughout the entire day. Turned out that it never hurt again after the first 20 miles. It also turned out that as my hamstring pain went away my entire body began to feel stronger and faster. I ran very comfortable for the first half of the race. I had a few minor stomach problems in that part but somewhere around mile 20 my stomach really settled and I knew that if I could keep my stomach together that things were going to go well.

At the halfway point I knew that I could thrive on the more hilly and more technical terrain of the second half of the course. I just didn't realize how much I would be able to thrive. I ended up running the second half of this one in 3 hours even! With about 15 miles to go I realized that I was really pushing the pace and it felt really good to go that fast. I really had not raced that fast and felt that comfortable doing so ever in my life. I wasn't thinking much about anything. Just running faster and faster and at times falling quite deep into meditation and at other times a seemingly other dimension in which time seemed to almost not exist. I just ran faster and it stopped seeming like it was taking me either a long time or a short time, I was just running. When it was all said and done it had felt like the easiest race I had ever run. My body felt strong the entire way and my mind felt like it had been in a good place the entire time - never too focused on the race itself, but never wandering too far away and getting too distracted. I just ran, and ran fast, and my mind and body simply allowed for me to do that without getting in the way. It was probably the closest I've ever come to running a perfect race because I never really felt like I was running a race and yet I was able to stay focused on my nutrition, hydration, pacing, and other areas needed to run a successful race. I never actually had to think about any of these things. They just happened. I never really had to think about anything, it just kind of all happened as I simply ran quickly through the forest.

Another Day At The Office?

Kind of, but also a bit more satisfying than just another race.

Won Mountain Masochist 50 a few hours ago in 6:27:55. Not sure where that came from. I really haven't run anything fast in several months. I ran the last mile today in 5:25, probably the fastest single mile that I've run since sometime in July.

As far as races go this one went really well. I felt strong the whole day and I feel really good tonight as I'm hanging out in my hotel room eating everything in sight. I ran with the lead pack - mostly consisting of Gary Robbins, Lon Freeman, Vlamir Nunes, and myself - for the first half of the race, but as the terrain got much tougher in the second half I just took off and really began to push the pace. I didn't even care (or know) what was going on behind me. I was dialed in and I knew that if I just kept myself there that it didn't matter what was going on behind me. By mile 30 I was cutting about a minute and a half per mile off the previous course record splits. I continued to attack uphills as I had all day, but after mile 35 I also really attacked the downhills more than I ever have in any race. And the faster I ran the better I felt. When it was said and done I took more than 20 minutes off Dave Mackey's previous course record. This is obviously a really exciting result to me, but also kind of scary (mostly in a good way). More on all of this sometime in the next few days.

As usual, thanks to everyone for all your support, especially my Dad who drove down from Central New York and crewed for me and got to see me race for the first time since 1995 when I was in college.

Mountain Masochist

On my way to Virginia to run the Mountain Masochist 50 miler this weekend. I have no idea if I'm ready to race a 50 miler this weekend. Honestly I haven't even really thought about it. I'm sure I'll be ready to focus on this one by Saturday morning though. Should be a tough field. I'm not in perfect shape right now. But that's almost always the case. At the very least it'll be exciting to run my first race "back east" and my Dad is driving down from New York for this one, so that'll be exciting for me too.

For those interested you should be able to track the race on this website.

Tongass 100

I've had this idea in my mind for a couple years now, but lately it's been moved more to the front of my mind. I want to put together a 100 mile route here around Juneau that might eventually become an actual race. The route I have in mind would likely be more difficult than Hardrock and certainly one of the most beautiful races in the world.



In it's infancy (next summer?) it would probably just be me scouting out and running the route as a test. If I could get one other person to do it with me I'd be stoked. If it became an actual event I would like to offer a 3 or 4 day stage race option. This way more than just a couple people might actual do it. The full 100 mile route would be so difficult that it might be an event more like Barkley than an actual 100 mile race. Unlike Barkley though this would not be a contrived route of numerous loops charging up hillsides for seemingly no reason other than to be really hard. This would be a point to point route that would be almost entirely singletrack trails and ridge running up above treeline. To connect it all together there would be a few miles of pavement, but other than that it would be running 90+ miles of the most appealing (and challenging) trails and mountains that I have ever run anywhere.

Anyone interested in running it with me next June?

Darkness

The dark season is creeping up fast here in Alaska. It's not getting light in the morning now until about 8:00, and by about 5:30 in the afternoon it's mostly dark. I like daylight. But I actually really like running in the dark.

One of my favorite things about 100 mile races is that you are out for so long that you get a full cycle of darkness, into daylight, and back into darkness. I love the transition points. Dawn and dusk. When I've been running all day and then darkness sets in I feel almost like I'm running in a new dimension. In the daylight I notice myself running over the landscape, but once darkness sets in and I can't see as well I begin to feel like I can't tell where my body ends and the trail begins. It becomes a feeling of connectedness to the land and I feel like I'm being pulled along by the landscape rather than running over the landscape (imagine the moving walkways at airports).

I also really like running in the dark without my headlamp on. It's amazing to me sometimes how well I can "feel" the trail. It forces you to run with very relaxed legs, ready to absorb the nuances of any obstacles you might step on. I think this teaches us to be better runners even when we can see the trail just fine. Sometimes when I'm really "feeling" the trail I can run just as fast without my headlamp on as I can with it on. Give it a try the next time you're running in the dark. It's not as difficult as it sounds.

Ouch

I really like when I take a fall when I'm running. It doesn't happen very often but as long as I don't hurt myself I really like the feeling I get from the transition of being on my feet to suddenly being on the ground. It reminds me how vulnerable I am when running along a trail with roots, rocks, mud, ice, and snow. I almost always pop back up before I even realize I have fallen, and I usually feel a lot better than I did before I fell. I guess part of it is from a rush of adrenaline, but I also think a lot of it is from being reminded of my vulnerability out on a technical trail. There is something exhilarating and uplifting in that. There is something empowering in feeling so vulnerable and bouncing up from it without injury.

Does anyone else like when they fall during a run? Or am I just crazy?

Organic Running

More and more each day I find myself running with a natural, organic, in the moment approach. Whereas my running used to be all about planned hills, distance, tempo, and intervals, I now hit the trail and see where it takes me.

Today I wasn't even that excited to go out for a run. The weather was really nice but I was in a frustrated mood and I kind of just wanted to go home and eat a bunch of food and go to bed. But instead we ran. And we climbed. It was cold and windy up high, but the cool air felt like medicine. Sitting on top of Gastineau Peak I felt whole for the first time all day. And then we began to run down. At first I was too cold to push hard and eventually I just kind of forgot about the notion that I could use gravity to run fast down the mountain. About halfway down though my friend Dan was feeling like playing around and he blew past me making some joke about how slow I was going. And then it was on. We continued into a pace that at most times might seem frantic, but because we had spend 90 minutes "warming up" to that speed it felt very smooth and natural. And so we sped up more. Eventually we were really cruising down the mountain and it felt so nice to think about nothing other than where to place my next footstep on the technical trail. We didn't plan to run that fast, but just letting go and allowing it to happen made for a nearly perfect run that trained both my body and my mind to be a better runner, and a better person, even if my quads are a little sore from it tonight.

I can't wait to see what tomorrow's run brings.

Too Much Work And Not Enough Play

Back in the routine and busyness of life in Juneau.

I'm running more right now than I thought I would be. I'm also working 10+ hours a day this week and I'm getting pretty worn out. I need to get more rest but on days like today the only time I was content and in a good space in my mind was the 75 minutes I spent running. I love that my running can provide this for me, but I don't like these times when I feel like my running is an outlet for being too busy and/or stressed in everything else I do. It's really not sustainable and I acknowledge that. Next week I go back to a normal work schedule of about 6 hours a day so that should make it a lot easier for my running to fit into my life in a more healthy way. From there I'll start running everyday again and move forward toward my next race.

Thinking pretty seriously about racing the Mountain Masochist 5o miler on November 7th but before I can plan on that I need to find a way to make my Alaska Airlines mileage balance grow by about 20,000 miles because there's no way I can afford to buy a ticket with cash right now. I'm working on it. I'm trying to imagine that if I just think about it enough I'll find a way to be able to get out to Virginia. Or maybe I'm thinking about it too much.

And maybe one of these days soon I'll have enough time to post something of interest or value on this blog. Probably not though.

It's Always Sunny In Juneau

I flew back to Juneau today. I indicated in my last post that I was planning to take some time completely off from running. I figured it'd be up to a few weeks. The thing is though that it was a beautiful Fall day today, I was in a great mood, I was done unpacking, and I wanted to go for a run. And so I did. Just a few miles. It felt great. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'm fully recovered from racing 200 miles in two weeks but I think rather than taking a few weeks completely off I'm going to give myself some active recovery for a few weeks. Maybe I'll run 4 or 5 days a week for a total of 30-50 miles per week. Or, better yet, I'll just run if I feel like running and rest if I feel like resting. That sounds perfect right now. And before too long I'll be getting my mind and body ready for racing again. Haven't decided for certain when and where my next race will be. It might be fun to race out East for my first time ever. And of course there's the showdown in Marin for the big bucks coming up in just a couple months now. Maybe I've even got two more races in me this year. I know my mind and body do, but what I'm not so sure about is my bank account.

Bear 100 Race Report

I had no expectations going into this race. My only intention was to enjoy running all day and try to get some of the stress from Wasatch out of my system.

The good thing about going into a race in this laid back of a mindset is that I was actually able to sleep soundly for 7 hours the night before the race. I didn't feel like I brought my best physical condition to the start line Friday morning but I knew that my mind was in the right place... A much better combination than the other way around.

And so we started. And I ran for about 5 or 6 hours without even thinking once about the fact that I was running a race. I ran for awhile at the start with Luke Nelson and Eric from Montana (never did catch his last name). After the first aid station I pushed further ahead of them and quickly caught up to Zach Gingerich. I ran with Zach for awhile and then pushed ahead and caught up to Troy Howard. I ran with him for awhile and then pushed ahead and caught up to Nick Pedatella. I ran with him for awhile and then we caught up to Leland Barker (race director who had started an hour earlier than the rest of the field). Running with Leland we caught up to Phil Lowery (who had also started early). After I pushed ahead of Phil, Leland, and Nick at about mile 36 I would end up running alone for the rest of the day.

It had been a fun morning of running and chatting with others, but I was kind of glad to be off in front on my own. Actually I didn't really think or care about being in front, but in front is the most likely place to be able to run alone for a long period of time. And I was in the mood to run alone.

I wasn't feeling physically great for a lot of the time after mile 40, but every time I felt weak I would rebound after a few minutes and feel strong for several minutes. The heat started to become an issue around mile 40 as well. It wasn't that hot but I was running out of water between every aid station. I'd fill up with 40 ounces and then hit the trail again, only to finish off this water well before the next aid station. I'm not sure why, but I was drinking a lot more water than I did at Wasatch, even though it was hotter at Wasatch.

Coming into Logan River aid station (mile 69) the heat had finally broken and I was beginning to feel really strong again after an hour long rough patch just before that. And then my 3 minutes at this aid station revived me to the best I'd felt all day. It's amazing what some upbeat aid station volunteers, a can of coke, and a warm cloth to wash off your face can do for one who has just run 69 miles.

After Logan River the sun was getting low and I was really excited to push on into the darkness. One of my favorite things about running long races are the transitions from light to dark or vice versca. It almost feels like you're running in a different dimension when you've been running in daylight for 12+ hours and then suddenly you're running into the faint beam of a headlamp. I love it.

Anyway, I left the mile 75 aid station with enough daylight that I still hadn't turned on my headlamps. Unfortunately just after this aid station there was an important trail junction which was marked with reflectors and tape. It was too dark for me to see the tape, but still a little too light for me to have my lights on so I didn't see the reflectors either. After about a 25 minute detour I was finally back on route headed in the right direction. My response to getting lost for that much time was entirely mellow. I tried for a little while to force myself to be at least a little upset with the time I'd lost since I knew I was on pace for a pretty fast time, but it just didn't really concern me much at all. And there was certainly nothing to gain by worrying about it anyway.

When I got to Gibson Basin (mile 81) I had decided that I was going to start taking in as many calories as I could at the remaining 3 aid stations in hopes of not having to eat too many more gels. After eating more than 100 gels in two weeks (60 at Wasatch and 40 to this point in the Bear) I was simply ready for some real food.

And so I went onto a soup and coke diet and moved along station to station until cruising down to the finish in a time of 18:43.

I felt really worn out for about 2 hours after finishing. I thought maybe this was going to be one of those ones that took my body a few days to feel human again. I slept for about 4 hours though and when I woke up I felt great. My body went into hyper recovery mode and I've just been shovelling in food and liquid ever since, feeling more and more recovered by the hour.

My plan all along was to take 2 or 3 weeks off after this race and then not race again until December at the earliest, but I do have some very tentative racing plans floating around in my mind so perhaps I'll start back at it later this week and see where that takes me.

6 for 6

I completed the Bear 100 in 18:43. Another hundred mile win and another course record. My 6th win in 6 hundred mile races, including the course record on each of the 5 courses I've raced. For whatever that's worth. More than anything though it was just a really great day to run all day. The weather was perfect and that route is as beautiful as any race I've ever done (or at least any race outside of Alaska).

I felt pretty good most of the day. My legs started to feel heavy at about mile 40. I felt great some of the time after that but I also felt really weak some of the time after that.

I never really thought of this one as a race. Rather just an excuse to run all day through some beautiful terrain. I would like to come back and "race" the Bear sometime. With a fresh and focused effort I know I could go well below 18 hours, maybe below 17.

I need a nap now.

I'll probably write up a more detailed report in the next few days.

Autumn in Utah

Went golfing with Karl on Sunday. Let's just say we're a lot more evenly matched as runners than we are as golfers. He had about one fewer stroke than me for every minute that I was faster than him at Wasatch. You can do the math yourself to figure out just how bad I am at golf. I guess I'll settle for that trade though :)

Ran a little over 3 hours in the San Rafael Swell on Monday and I feel like my body is pretty much back to normal and ready to give another 100 miler a go. I'm not going into the Bear with any expectations. I just want to have a fun run through the mountains and see how it plays out. If I'm feeling strong I'll push myself a bit as the day progresses, but if I'm not feeling strong I am going to be willing to slow way down until I come around. Patience is the name of the game for hundreds and I expect to have more patience with this one than any that I've ever run.

Spent the past two days camping and relaxing near Moab. The weather has finally cooled off here. For the first two weeks I was in Utah it was in the upper 80's or 90's everyday but the past 3 days have been in the upper 60's to low 70's. If you've ever spent any time in the Utah desert this time of year, after the summer heat has broken, you know how much of a treat it can be. I've been really lazy (by design) the past couple days, but my mind and my body have felt so content being where I'm at. I'm slowly starting to come a little bit around to the idea of heading back to Juneau next week, but right now I'm super content to be in the warm sun by day and out under the stars around a juniper scented campfire at night. If you too could use a little "Southern Utah medicine" check out this running trip that Karl is leading in Moab in a couple weeks. Knowing Karl, and knowing most of the trails around Moab, I wouldn't expect anything other than a really kick ass time.

The Bear 100 starts at 6am Mountain Time on Friday. Here's a link to the race website and the live runner tracker in case anyone's interested in "following along" during the race.