The Looming Showdown

For the first point yet this year my mindset has begun to shift toward the looming showdown at Western States coming up at the end of next month. I know for some folks this mindset begins within hours of the end of WS the previous year (think AJW), but this certainly hasn't been the case for me with this race. In fact I don't really like to approach any race where I put much of any time or energy into that race until about 6 weeks before the start. The lone exception for me in this regard has been the 2 times I've tried the Iditarod Invitational and the time I rode the Great Divide Race. My result in those three events: 3 DNFs. For me I think I end up a little burnt out (mentally) before I even start a race when I focus on one specific event for too long. I operate a lot better when my most important run is my next run and not some run several months in the future.

There's been the anonymous troll posting comments on this blog recently about Western States being "the race of my life" and how I'm crazy to be doing other "two-bit" races recently when Western States is only a couple months away. To that I say that my next race is always "the race of my life." No matter how low key and unestablished a race is, the next race I'm running is always where the majority of my focus is going to be. Right now Western States is the most important race to me, but only because it's my next race, and this has me getting more excited and focused on it than I have been all year.

The field this year looks to be even more solid than last year. The top four finishers from last year are all returning; Hal looks to be ready to be a serious factor again this year; Dave is a bit of a wild card at the 100 mile distance but I certainly know that he has the potential to win anything he lines up for; Ian Sharman showed at Rocky Raccoon that he can run with anyone in the world on a good day; Kaburaki and Bragg are both going to be back this year after a year off last year; and among rookies, both Mike Wolfe and Ryan Burch look to be in killer shape right now. Beyond these folks you have most of last year's top 15 returning plus a few other lesser known rookies who could make a little noise (Fanselow, Olmstead, and Loutitt to name a few). It's also worth mentioning that there are no fewer than 3 or 4 women who need to be talked about not just in terms of the women's race, but in terms of potential for very solid overall finishes (Greenwood, Ortiz, Semick - not sure if Kami is actually running - and Garneau to name a few). I think the women's field is so strong at the very top that if a few of them are having good days they could possibly push each other within reach of Ann Trason's "untouchable" course record. In all I think the competition for the top 15-20 places in the race will be significantly deeper than it was last year. Last year you had over a 2.5 hour gap between first and 10th place; a 3 hour gap between first and 15th place; and almost a four hour gap between first and 20th place. My guess is that all of these gaps will be significantly smaller this year. Last year there were about 35 runners who finished under 20 hours. With similar course conditions this year I wouldn't be surprised to see 50 finish under 20 hours. These are of course all hypothetical projections and it's been no secret that there is currently a ton of snow in the Sierras. Depending on what the weather does in the next 6 weeks we could easily end up with the largest amount of snowpack ever at Western States. That could throw a lot of these projections out of whack.

Anyway, back to my place in all of this. Last year I won Western States. This fact has potential to put a huge amount of pressure on me this year. So far I haven't felt too much of that pressure. I'm planning to do everything I can to have a good race, but I think a big part of this will be how relaxed and laid back I remain about the whole thing. In many ways I think my ability to do this has become one of my biggest strengths as a competitive runner. Now that Western States is creeping closer and it now is my next race, I imagine a bit of pressure (both self imposed and through other people's comments/expectations) will slowly creep in over the coming weeks. I think being back in Alaska will help with this. Up here it's really easy to just get out in the mountains and run each day, without having it feel contrived or specific to a purpose of preparing for one particular day that is still almost two months away. Certainly you can "train" in this way no matter where you live, but here in Juneau everything is kind of closed off in an idyllic little bubble, and it's pretty easy to escape the pressure, stress, and anxiety of competitive running (and of many things in life). This combined with the challenging terrain and the thriving running community makes Juneau the perfect place to prepare for a race like Western States. It's so easy here to focus on the next run rather than on a run that is still almost two months away.

As another way of avoiding putting too much focus on Western States I am pretty certain I am going to run the race with no pacer(s) and with minimal or no crew. I think there are benefits to having a pacer and a crew, but I also think that in many cases the extra stress of logistics and preparation that goes into planning all of this can be as much a detriment as it can be a benefit. Especially in a race like Western States where the aid stations or so well stocked and run, and where your crew can really only get to you at 4 or 5 points on the course anyway. I think it was very beneficial to have Dave out there pacing me last year, but that was last year, and that was my experience of that race. This year I want to experience Western States as more of a solo thing and I don't think this will necessarily have a negative effect on my performance potential. It will just be different. And certainly I have had plenty of experience racing long hard races without pacers. Of the eight 100 mile races I've run I've had a pacer with me for about 35 total miles.

At any rate Western States should be a really exciting event to be a part of again this year. It's been fun and exciting to start thinking about it a bit more in the past several days. But it's also really fun and exciting to be back here in Juneau where there are so many enticing places to run that I'm much more excited about where I'm going to run tomorrow than any runs I have planned in the future.

It Must Be Summer

The combination of our first really warm weather here in the front range and the fact that I'm leaving on Monday to head up to Alaska for "the summer" has me feeling for the first time yet this year like Spring is winding up and Summer is just around the corner.

Historically Summer has never been my favorite month. The heat doesn't bother me too much, but certainly I prefer 50 degrees to 90 degrees. In the cold you can always put on more clothes and stay warm, but if it gets too hot out there just isn't much you can do to avoid the heat if you want to be outside.

Since moving to Alaska 6 years ago though my perspective on Summer has changed a lot. In Juneau it rarely gets over 75 degrees. Beginning sometime in April and continuing until sometime in September the high temperature is between 50 and 75 almost every single day. Perfect temperature as far as I'm concerned. Sure it rains a lot, and sure the winter's can be pretty dark and miserable, but there are few places I have ever been where the temperature is as ideal for 6 straight months as it is in Juneau from April to September.

It's a little over 80 in Boulder today and I can't help but feel like I'm getting out of here just in time before the real heat sets in. Sure, it's only supposed to be about 50 and raining when I touch down in Juneau on Monday, but for running 20+ hours of rugged mountain terrain each week I'd take 50 over 80 in a heartbeat. The rain might take a little while to get reacquainted with (it's rained maybe 3 times in the 8+ months that we've been in Colorado), but even the rain this time of year in Juneau has a way of feeling gentle and comforting.

Hidden Gem - SBER 100 Race Report

My race report from The Santa Barbara Endurance Race 100 miler this past weekend has more to do with the months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes leading up to the race than it does with the race itself. I decided to run this race a few months ago. Initially I was drawn to it by the course which was supposed to have about 36k of vertical, and by the prize money that the race was offering for a sub 24 hour finish. Potential to get paid good prize money while running in steep rugged mountains all day seemed like a good idea to me.

A little over two weeks ago though I got a call from the race director saying that the recent rains which have been putting stress on races all over California were threatening to end this event. The Forest Service pulled their approval on nearly all the trails in the area and the only options to still have a race would include a lot of road and/or a lot of loops or short out and backs. None of these options sounded too appealing, but I could tell that he really wanted to be able to pull this one off even if it were compromised because of the weather. After talking with the RD I decided that I would trust him to come up with the best course he could and give it a go, hoping that he could come up with something still pretty sweet to run. To his credit, he came up with about the most enjoyable course you could imagine without using hardly any trail. It ended up being almost all road but these were small, hilly, winding roads way up in the mountains. After just a few hours I forgot all together that we were on roads most of the day. In many ways I felt like I was running along mountain ridges up in Juneau, only difference being that instead of a goat trail, there was a small road, or jeep doubletrack running along the ridge. The scenery was as amazing as any I've ever seen for a full 100 miles.

So Friday morning I found myself at the race and ready to roll. This was to be a small race. 25 or so runners in the 100 mile. Before we set off on our journey we all gathered in a circle for a blessing led by a local Chumash Elder. This was one of my favorite parts of a really enjoyable weekend. He spoke of (among other things) running for a cause, for a cause of compassion. Compassion for the land and thus compassion for everyone since we are all part of the land. This compassion is a huge part of why I feel so drawn to running out in the mountains and through beautiful and wild places. I think a lot of us run for these reasons, but it was really cool to have this recognized and encouraged just moments before starting on our journey. This experience alone made this a wonderful and worthwhile event. I remember feeling 5 minutes into the race that I was already fully satisfied, and that I could twist my ankle right then and drop out of the race and it would all still be worth it.

But from here it just kept getting better. I got to run all day. I felt really relaxed and really content pretty much all day. I didn't run very hard, but I never really slowed down either. I took a lot of time at aid stations. Not because I needed to, but because everyone was so friendly and fun to talk with that I didn't want to leave.

There was this guy Scott who ran with me for most of the first half of the race. It was really nice to have the company for the first half and then get to run the second half on my own. I found out later that Scott had to drop at mile 91. Hopefully he's not too bummed about it because he is one of those runners who just seems to understand mountain/ultra running, even though this was his first official ultra. I think he hit the 50 mile turnaround in about 8:25, so watch out if you run up against this guy in a race.

Pretty much the only thing that went wrong for me was that I started to feel a little pain in my left calf at about mile 45. I was able to manage it for the 9 or so hours that it took me to finish from there. It never hurt too bad, but it was always nagging me a bit. It's certainly a little tender today so I might need a little extra recovery time from this race. We'll see.

Overall this event was one of the most enjoyable I have ever taken part in. There were a lot of runners that were skeptical about this race because of some of the difficulties they have had in getting to this point. I think we all started not quite knowing what to expect, but I think every runner I talked to after the race was really stoked to have been a part of this event. Robert Gilcrest (the RD) has a passion for his event and the people that take part in his event that is really rare and really special. He also has a vulnerability and rawness to his personality that makes him really enjoyable to be around. You can't help but want to see him and his event succeed. If you are interested in this event, but have not done it because it's so new and it's had a tough couple years really getting off the ground I highly recommend giving it a try. It's not going to be the most organized event you ever do (although it was actually very well organized in the areas that really matter), but it might just be one of the most enjoyable you ever do. Hopefully the weather will allow for the use of the original course next year, but even with the last minute course changes this was a hidden gem of a race. Not sure yet what my racing schedule will look like next year, but I'm certainly hoping to be able to fit this one into the mix again in the near future.

A Tale Of Two Races

Very interesting race for me down in Arizona this weekend. Considering the way the second half of the race went for me I still haven't figured out how I was able to actually make it to the finish, let alone hold on to win the race with a decent time of 8:13.

There were several things I really like about this race. One of them is that the start area is a nice, quiet little spot, with plenty of space to sleep in the forest near the start line, and a small town a mile down the road, with anything you might need the evening before the race. I wish all races were as easy in this regard.

So by the time we started at 5am Saturday morning, I had had such a relaxing 16 hours in Arizona that it was really easy to feel comfortable and relaxed running in the morning darkness. To make things even more relaxing, there were no rabbits that took the pace out very fast so I was able to just cruise along with Dakota, Hal, and Nico for a bit. It felt really easy, and I was really surprised to get to mile 17 (exactly the 1/3 point of this 51 mile route) on pace to run about 7:45. The pace felt so easy to that point that I was certain that as long as things didn't come undone for me I could keep up that pace for the full race, and probably even cruise the last 10 miles or so a little faster. I was still feeling about the same through the mile 23 aid station, but then things went the other way really quickly, but also somehow kind of subtly.

The ironic thing was that just at the point that I started to not feel so great, I pulled away from Dakota (we had already pulled away from the rest of the field somewhere around mile 10) and would end up running the rest of the race on my own. From about mile 25 to the finish I ended up feeling like I was bonking almost the entire way. At some points it would get a little better, but I basically never felt even as good as average after mile 25. I had no specific problems, I just didn't have any energy. My stomach was a little off all day, so I was never able to really take in as many calories as I probably needed. And it got quite hot by the middle of the race. Neither of these things should have made me feel this bad though. I've run plenty or races when I'm only able to take in about 200 calories per hour as I did in this one (I prefer when I can get down 300). In hundred milers I think it's necessary to take in more than 200 per hour, but I've gotten through plenty of 50 milers in the past in which I only took 200 per hour and have felt fine. I've also run plenty of races when it's been as hot or hotter than it was in this one. It never feels as good to run in 80 degrees as it does in 50, but the heat alone has never made me feel this weak before.

At any rate, to make a long story short I just kept trudging along, putting one foot in front of the other. I walked almost all of the uphills in the last 20 miles. I walked some flats. I stopped numerous times. I stopped and laid down in 3 or 4 creek crossings. None of these things seemed to help. The further I ran, the weaker I felt. This was without a doubt the worst I've ever felt for 25 consecutive miles. If I feel like this on a training run I just turn around and come home. When I've felt like this in races I've either stuck with it and turned things around, or they've continued to get worse (Bandera 2011 and Miwok 2009) and I've ended up dropping out. This weekend I never really considered dropping out, but had this been a 100k or longer I'm not sure I would have made it to the finish. Perhaps the strangest thing about how I felt for the last half of the race, was that for the first half I felt about as relaxed, strong, and comfortable as I ever feel in the first 25 miles of a race.

The other odd thing was that within minutes of finishing I felt great. Today I have no soreness whatsoever. I just didn't have the energy to run fast and far yesterday. I was able to use my stored up fitness to fake it and get myself one step in front of the other to the finish, but it was one of the toughest days of running I've ever had.

In the end though, it was a super fun weekend, a great event, and somehow, even though I felt like I was going to pass out for most of the last 25 miles, it was still a really enjoyable and satisfying run. It's funny how feeling so bad can sometimes be really horrible (Bandera) and other times somehow be tolerable and even kind of enjoyable, as it was this weekend.

Next Winter

Some people never learn. I guess I'm one of them.

Team Montrail Kicking Ass

There are so many races in ultrarunning now that almost every weekend there are impressive performances. This past weekend was certainly no exception. There was of course the old man who ran 5:55 to win the American River 50 on Saturday. Rumor has it that he even stopped a few times along the course to make balloon animals for children who saw his shoes and thought he was a clown. Wouldn't surprise me as he has two kids of his own and he's so sweet and cute with his daughter Ava, that Elle and I have taken to referring to the two of them jointly as Dava. As in Elle asking me this morning, "Are we still going to have a play date with Dava this week?"

Beyond this there were two other performances this past weekend by Montrail team mates of mine that were also hugely impressive. Ellie Greenwood also at American River and Andy Henshaw at the Mad City 100k.

Impressive performances are so common nowadays in ultrarunning that I sometimes feel immune to them. I will hear of a performance that someone has had and, even though they may have set a course record in a 20 year old race I will more or less take the news as though it were expected. Records are being broken so often that in many races I think course records are expected. There are of course still performances which really jump out and scream for attention and surprise. Of the dozen or so of these that I've been aware of in the past year I think that 3 or 4 of them belong to Ellie Greenwood. I've come to expect her to do great things just about every time she runs, but she was able to really catch my attention again this weekend. She ran 6:25, finishing 7th overall in a field of about 800 runners! Only some women by the name of Ann Trason has ever run this race faster (and correct me if I'm wrong but I believe the course has changed since the years that Ann ran it). I thought maybe, just maybe, on a great day Ellie could run 6:30 on that course, but when I got a message from her the day before the race saying that her hip has been bothering her a bit I didn't imagine she was going to do it on this day. Turns out she ran even 5 minutes faster than 6:30. Western States this year will be her first 100 miler. It's hard to expect an eye popping performance in anyone's first 100 miler, but one would have to be crazy not to at least allow for the possibility that she may do something really special on that day.

Andy's performance at Mad City may have been just as impressive. With the possible exception of Sharman at Rocky Raccoon I think this is the men's performance of the year so far (and Ellie's AR is likely the women's performance of the year so far). He ran 6:47, almost a full 10 minutes faster than Wardian's course record there! Certainly didn't see that one coming.

Team Montrail is looking stronger at the front of the pack than ever. Also a shout out to new Montrail runner Ryan Burch who finished 5th at American River in a stout time of 6:09. Super impressive for a Colorado mountain guy.

Acclimatization 8 Months Later

I've been in Colorado now for 8 months and I still haven't been able to conclude whether living at 8,600 ft. altitude has had a positive, negative, or neutral effect on my running. Initially the altitude was very hard on my body. It took more than a month before my resting heart rate dropped below 48 (my sea level RHH is about 39) and I had no more than 2 or 3 runs in my first two months here that I felt really strong. I never knew how much of this was due to the altitude. Shortly after moving here I came down with a head/chest cold that lasted for about 6 weeks! I think the way I felt (pretty crappy) all of September and October was in part from the alititude, but also in part from my illness, as well as from the emotional/psychological effect of going through a change as distinct as moving to a new place, which resulted in an almost completely different day to day lifestyle for me.

As far as my racing has gone it's also hard to say what effect living this high has had. I ran 3 races in the fall and they were all pretty mediocre for me. By the time my Bandera DNF came around in early January I was starting to think that maybe living this high up was hindering my running performance. Perhaps I was just not ever able to train at a high enough pace to keep my legs tuned as much as they should be. Then I ran Chuckanut last month and completely disproved that theory. Chuckanut was one of the best days of running I've ever had (in terms of how my body felt physically).

Where this has all led to now is that I feel like living this high up was a pretty big challenge for the first several months. A challenge that my body took months to adapt to and to figure out. Now that I have made that adaptation I am beginning to feel like it is to my advantage to live at this altitude. It actually reminds me a lot of when I first moved to Juneau. It took me over a year to adapt to the terrain (super steep and in many areas super technical) in Juneau and turn what seemed like a negative thing into a very positive thing. In the case of the altitude I think a huge portion of this adaptation is purely physical, but I also don't discount that a large part of this is mental. For months I hard a very hard time accepting the way I feel when I run at 8,500+ ft. I just kept waiting for it to feel better. And day after day it just kept feeling pretty crappy, especially when I went up to 10, 11, 12k, and above. Now it still feels kind of crappy when I go up that high, but I've come to accept that this is OK. I've finally, after 8 months, let go of my preconceived notions of what it's supposed to feel like to run.

A couple days ago I did a loop run on snowshoes up in the Indian Peaks Wilderness that was 15 miles and took me up to 11,700ft. It took me almost 4 hours to complete and when I was done I felt like it would have been tough for me to do that loop much faster than I did. I was exhausted. Several months ago a run like this would have really frustrated me. In the same way that "running" up some of the steeper trails in Juneau really frustrated me the first year or two that I lived there.

Now that I have made this shift in consciousness my hope is that it will remain ingrained in my psyche to accept the way it feels to run at high altitude. I'm leaving in one month to head back to Juneau for the summer. After 5 years in Juneau I have little doubt that I will have any problem accepting what it is to run in the mountains around Juneau (probably just seeing the mountains on the flight into town and I'll shift instantly into my Juneau Running Mentality). What will be more interesting though will be to see how quickly I adapt (both physically and mentally) to being back at altitude when I return to Colorado in August. I suspect this shift will take more than just seeing the landscape again, but hopefully this time it takes something more like 8 days than the 8 months that it took this year. I guess time will tell.

Alpine Works

As I've mentioned a few times on this blog before, I have a strong belief that many runners try to incorporate too much structure and specificity into their running. I think most runners would benefit a lot from allowing for the possibility that in most cases their instincts are likely more valuable than what some other runner tells them they should do. I do think that we can learn a lot about ourselves (as runners or otherwise) from observing other people, but ultimately I think we learn the most when we are able to mostly tune out what others are doing and tune further into ourselves and further into the land that we run through.

This said, I do believe that for most people it takes some coaching (or more accurately, some guidance) to be able to more clearly understand ourselves, and to understand some of the more elusive aspects of running, such that we can more easily get to this place of trusting fully in our own instincts. I do believe in most cases we can eventually get to this place on our own, but I also believe that most people can get there a lot more smoothly with proper coaching.

Of the people I've met through the mountain/trail/ultra running community, Joe Grant seems to have an understanding of running and philosophies about running that are more similar to mine than anyone. This isn't to say he and I see eye to eye on everything that is running, but certainly we experience many of the key aspects of running in a very similar way.

I often have people ask me if I think they should hire a coach, and if so who would I recommend. For awhile my advice has always been, "you are your best coach. Just go out and run and figure it out for yourself and in the end you will be a much stronger runner (and person) than you ever could have been with any coach. As I've gotten to know Joe in the past 8 months (we both moved to the Boulder area around the same time) , and consistently learned things about running (and life) from him, I've often had the thought that he would be someone who really could coach runners in a way that would help them move smoothly to this place of being their own best coach. He has a deep understanding of many of the hard, tangible, more technical aspects of the sport, but also a deep understanding of the intangibles. I think he is someone who could teach runners in a way that would not in any way limit or restrict their own instinctual skills and knowledge.

Okay, now for the best part: Joe has recently launched a personal coaching business. Joe has become a good friend of mine, so maybe you're thinking this is just a shameless plug for a friend's business, but nope, I really do believe that he is the one runner I have met who I would recommend to someone who is looking for a coach. At the very least check out his website and decide for yourself. He's a great writer too, so even if his coaching services aren't for you I highly recommend checking out some of the intriguing content he has on the website.

CEP Compression

I've never really been a big fan of compression (socks, calf sleeves, etc). Recently though I've been wearing a pair of CEP Compression socks and I think they do much more for me than other compression socks I've worn. The difference I presume comes from the fact that they seem to be a much higher quality product than the 3 or 4 other brands I've tried. They actually maintain their tight, compressed fit over time so that they're not just a long, silly looking sock with little to no compression after a few uses. I've probably worn the pair I have 30 times and they feel just as tight fitting as the first time I wore them. It's obviously hard to judge what kind of effect something like this has our bodies and their recovery, but certainly I've been feeling really good lately. There are so many factors that contribute to how we feel on a day in and day out basis, but I do feel like I generally have been recovering a bit more smoothly when I wear these socks after hard runs. Until I feel otherwise I'll be wearing them more and more. Luckily with these socks that doesn't mean that they're just going to get stretched out and useless. I highly recommend giving them a try.

Running As Pilgrimage

My girlfriend Corle, is writing an essay for school about Ultrarunning as a means for re-engagement with the land through the lens of pilgrimage. Pilgrimage can be distinguished from travel by including the following phases: hearing the call; preparation; separation; liminal or transitional; threshold; incorporation; and then integration. These phases speak to the journey as having an intimate and deep connecting with Self, but also as service to others. The re-engagement aspect of the essay is to explore healing the land, and societal ecopsychy, through ultrarunning. If this sounds at all intriguing and you would like to be interviewed for her essay, please contact her at: corlel@students.naropa.edu. It'd just be a few short email questions and she'd be excited to have some broader input, beyond just me and a few of my local friends.

No Cali

As I'm sure most folks have heard by now the Lake Sonoma 50 that I was supposed race tomorrow has been cancelled due to flooding on the course. It would have been nice to race this weekend, but it's also going to be really nice to spend a weekend at home with Corle and Elle. Not to mention that tomorrow is supposed to be the warmest day here on the Colorado front range since sometime in October.

In a couple weeks I'll use the time, money, and energy that was going to go toward Lake Sonoma to go down to Arizona and race the Zane Grey 50. I'm super excited for this race. It's one I've had my eye on for a few years now and with a few other runners defecting from Sonoma to ZG it should be a really fun day of racing. It's probably a bit close to the SBER 100 to be ideal, but it certainly won't be the first time I've done "too many" races in a short period of time. I guess time will tell if 13 days is enough time between on of the toughest 50 milers in the country and one of the toughest 100 milers in the country.

Another One Just Around The Corner

Back home after a great trip to Southern Utah. It was so nice to spend 5 straight days outside in the desert. I've probably spent over a year worth of time in my life deep out in the wilderness of Southern Utah, but I can never seem to get enough. Every time I go there I want to stay for months. We might just head back that way again in a couple weeks.

Up first though, I'll be heading out to California to race the Lake Sonoma 50 miler this coming weekend. It's a super stacked field and should be a really fun race. Got out for a 4+ hour "run" with Joe today and I'm definitely feeling fully recovered from Chuckanut and ready to roll again in 6 days.

After Lake Sonoma I'll just be in Colorado for all of April, doing as much vertical as possible to try to get good and ready for SBER on April 29th. That one is going to be a serious test of early season fitness. I'm planning to head there and give a 100% effort, but certainly I'll be going into that one thinking of it as more of a serious adventure in some cool mountains I've never run in than a serious race. For now though, my racing focus is on running hard and fast for 50 miles this weekend. It feels good to be going out to California with a huge confidence boost from Chuckanut.

Chuckanut Race Recap

Had a really great weekend up in Bellingham. The race was super fun and I felt as strong in a race as I have since Western States and Crow Pass last summer. Beyond the race itself this was a really enjoyable event. There were so many people there that I care really deeply for. It felt more like a gathering of good friends than a race.

The race itself I won't go too deep into here. Just a brief summary:

It started out really fast, but the pace felt surprisingly comfortable. Once we hit the first climbing (about mile 7) we were already down to a small group of 3 front runners. Michael Smith was about a minute out ahead of Erik Skaggs and I.

I stayed with Erik through this entire stretch of mostly climbing up to Aid Station 3 (mile 13.3), but I actually didn't think I was feeling very good. I enjoyed this stretch a lot though. I have known Erik for a couple years, but we've never really run together in a race. There was enough uphill in this stretch that we weren't chatting too much, but it was nice to spend that hour or so running stride for stride with him.

After aid station 3 you get onto the Chuckanut Ridge trail and that's when the fun really begins. I still wasn't feeling very good, but I was having so much fun I didn't really care. And then within a few minutes I think the enjoyment I was having on that trail was causing me to begin to feel much better. I felt like I had run to Juneau. This trail was more similar to the trails below treeline in Juneau than any I had ever run on. I knew I was probably feeling pretty good and running well on this trail when I looked back after a few minutes and couldn't see Erik behind me.

Through this whole stretch Michael was still a minute or two out in front of me, but I wasn't thinking much about the race. Just running along having a good time. I felt really good all the way to Aid Station 4 (mile 20.2) and found out I was about 1:45 behind at that point. This is where we began the toughest climb of the race and I instantly fell into a really good groove going up.

A few minutes up the climb I began to transition into race mindset. I started to do the math: if I run 10 seconds per mile faster than Michael for the rest of the race I might be able to catch him just before the finish. Okay, that sounded possible. And upward I pushed, running hard up pitches which I normally power hike in races. And then just a few minutes later, less than a mile from aid station 4 I could see Michael up ahead! I passed him well before the top of the climb and was then just hoping the climb would go on forever. I knew I could put distance on him as long as we kept going up, but I had no idea what would happen when we went flat or downhill. By the top of the climb I probably had one minute on him and then cruised back down to Clayton Beach where he had cut my lead back down to 30 seconds (didn't know this until after the race).

From here it's 6.5 miles of almost totally flat path back to the start/finish area. This stretch didn't feel very good physically, but to my surprise I was able to run it just as fast as we had at the start of the race, and about 3 minutes faster than Michael. When it was said and done I had one of the most enjoyable days of racing I've ever had. Just what I needed.

And now I'm off to Utah for a week of reuniting with the red rock desert.

Chuckanut

I'm heading up to Bellingham this weekend for the Chuckanut 50k. Should be a great early season test of fitness. I think I'm in great shape as far as strength and endurance are concerned. I guess this weekend will show if that's enough for such a "fast" race. I've talked a lot in the past about how I think speed work for ultras is very over-rated, but Chuckanut might be one of the races that could prove this theory wrong. But then again, is a race that will likely take the top runners under 4 hours really an ultra?

On another note, there are still a few spaces open for my running camps up in Juneau this summer. I have had a few cancellations in the last few weeks, so as of today I have 1 space open for the June 6-12 session and 3 spaces open for the July 28-August 3 session. I'm going to be distributing almost 600 camp fliers in race bags in the next two weeks, so if you're wanting to sign up I would highly recommend doing it as soon as possible to guarantee a space. Here's the website with all the info.

I'll try to check in with a quick Chuckanut race report on Saturday or Sunday, but after that I'm heading to Southern Utah for a week of desert camping, in which I will probably make a point not to be anywhere near a computer. Lucky me.

Salida Marathon

Drove down to Salida, Colorado this past weekend to run in the Run Through Time Marathon. Mostly this was just an excuse to take a road trip, do some camping, check out a town I had never been to (but heard good things about), and hopefully do some decent running on dirt (most of the running I've done in the past 4 months has been on snow). As for the run itself, I had no intention of running very hard as I am racing the Chuckanut 50k this coming Saturday and had no desire to push myself too hard just one week out from that.

In every regard this turned out to be a very satisfying trip. Salida is about the cutest little town in the world and the weather was absolutely amazing all weekend. The run itself went about as expected. I cruised pretty mellow to a 3:33 finish. I would have liked to feel a bit better in doing this than I did, but I was certainly proud of myself for keeping my effort pretty casual and not pushing too hard to run with the 8 or 10 runners who were running out in front of me the entire race. I got to run on about 25 miles of dirt and I got to hangout with a bunch of running friends (both old and new).

The best part of the entire weekend though was that my girlfriend and her daughter went with me and after the race on Saturday we found a great riverside campsite East of Salida and spent almost 24 hours just hanging out doing all the things you do outside with a 4 year old (mud pies, getting poked with cacti, playing in the ice-cold water, etc.). Sometimes I forget how much of my life I have spent "living" outside like this. It's always when I do it for the first time in a long time that I'm reminded of how much I love being outside. And I mean really being outside. Not just getting out for a 3 or 4 hour run, but actually being outside for an entire day or more. Next week after Chuckanut we are going to take a camping trip to Southern Utah for the entire week. Although I'm quite excited about racing Chuckanut, it's this trip after the race that I'm most looking forward to right now.