Saturday, July 16, 2016

In order to kick ass you must first lift a foot.

I like to think of Ultra runs as mobile picnics.  Ask anyone why they run and it doesn't take long for the reason, "so I can eat more!" to come up.  I'm no different.  I love to eat.  Any reason to do it more is good enough for me.  But my good friend Tim reminded me lately that it's not that easy.  Eating can be very challenging when covering vast distances over difficult terrain and something that if not given the proper attention can ruin your day.  I'm not going to get into the physiology of running- I think you get that.  You burn calories when you run and when you deplete your glycogen stores your body protests.  Sure, running slower can help, but in the end you need to fuel your body.  You've heard the phrase, "don't get behind on your nutrition" but sometimes you just do.  It's challenging to eat when you're working hard.  Your stomach protests and won't absorb calories.  It happens.  A lot of stuff happens running 100 miles.  You can't escape it and eventually you're not going to have a great day.  Because let's face it- that's what it takes to get 100 miles done...a pretty freakin' awesome day where a lot of shit conspires and you cross the finish line.  I think sometimes we forget that.  We take stuff for granted every day and it's good, once in awhile, to be reminded of just how special life is...just how special our sport is.  And, how cool it is to have the opportunity just to attempt to run 100 miles.  I know it's not always easy to accept defeat.  I've DNF'd my last 4 attempts at the distance, however what they say is true: you learn the most from the one's you don't finish.  (I've learned I like to sit down and cry at mile 86) : (
You analyze, critique, break it down and figure out what went wrong and what you're going to do different next time.  So yes, if you get behind on your nutrition you will likely not do well.  Your body will shut down.  If you're blessed to have the gift of speed you can sit in an aid station for an hour sipping broth and slowly eating solid food until eventually you're ready to go.  But- for a manatee or a turtle- that is a luxury we cannot afford.  We must keep moving or be swept up by the great equalizer of time. 

So, in light of our mistakes or missteps or misfortune with our stomachs, let us remember this- Let us remember to when we started. When it all began.  When we had the audacity to believe in the unknown.  The belief that we could achieve greatness and do something that not long before wasn't even on the radar.  When I think back I think of Craig.  As I was helping put shoes away in his store one day after classes I talked with Craig about my plans and my hopes of someday running 100 miles.  When I asked Craig what he thought- and what it's like- he gave me these words that he had written:

What it's like:
You will have to run a 50 for yourself to find out what's it's like.
But I'll tell you, in my experience, what's it's like to run 100 miles.
It's bigger than you are.
I've run the Western States 100 three times, each under 24 hours. The race starts at 5am.  It is dark.  The start is at Squaw Valley near Lake Tahoe. The first thing we do is run to Emigrant Pass, 9,000 ft.
From there we run through every Sierra canyon and over every Sierra ridge until we get to Auburn. 
We run all day.  And through the night. 
It is glorious.
Whether running across exposed rocky ridges with spectacular views or through canyon forests with sunlight filtering through the trees and onto the ferns, or across deep, cold, fast flowing Sierra streams; the experience is breath taking.
Every canyon is different from every other canyon.
Day is different from night.
Night is hard.
You try to stay out of trouble.  You fail.  You recover.
You run where you are.  You see and experience everything as it happens.
The next day you expect the entire experience to come crashing in.  It doesn't. It's scary that it doesn't, but it doesn't. 
You can remember any point of the race vividly, what it looked like, how you felt.
But you cannot get a sense of the experience in its entirety. You've run all day through short term memory. You will never have a complete feeling or understanding of the whole experience.  It's bigger than you are.
It's like life.

So Tim, don't take it too hard my friend. You didn't fail anything.  Obstacles and challenges force us to grow.  As Winston Churchill said, "Success is not final, Failure is not fatal.  It is the courage to continue that counts."  So that's what we do.  We don't give up, we train harder.  We learn from our mistakes and become better animals.  It's not always easy to understand.  Like Craig said, it's bigger than we are.  But you've got to toe the start line and try, regardless of the outcome. Because let's face it, in order to kick ass you must first lift a foot.

Happy trails,

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Hittin' the road to Lean Horse 100

There's something about taking a road trip. It's a rite of passage for young Americans. Many of us have memories of spending time in the back of the family station wagon when we were young, where the goal seemed to be making good time not making good memories. When Jeff and Bonnelle(of the famous Murphy/Stevenson school of Ultra Running!)suggested at the Grand Canyon last year that we do Lean Horse 100, we saw a perfect opportunity to have a road trip and expose our kids to the great American west one Flying J at a time.

The plan was to take it easy and not torture ourselves or the boys as we made our way from California to the Black Hills of South Dakota. I took two weeks off work and would need the time to go from being nocturnal to normal. With my last day of work finished we packed the Honda Civic and headed for Vegas. We'd take 4 days to get to South Dakota, seeing a lot of cool stuff along the way. We made our way North from Vegas to Salt Lake City, DuBois Wyoming, and then Hot Springs, South Dakota passing such sights as the Temple Square, The Grand Tetons, and Mt. Rushmore. Running 100 miles is a test of endurance, but travelling across the great American West really gave us an appreciation of the adventurous and courageous pioneers that settled this country. They didn't have Cracker Barrel restaurants back then did they?

Race day finally came and the weather cooperated a little cooling down from 104 on Friday to low 90's on race day. The race director, Jerry Dunn, leads approx. 250 of us out of town on his bike as family, friends, and locals yell, "Way to go runners!"
The course is run almost entirely on the the George S. Mickelson trail which runs from Deadwood to Edgemont. Formally a railway, you can be assured of two things; there will be no huge climbs/descents and the scenery will be spectacular! The course is an out and back with most of the climbing(nearly 7000 feet)taking place in the first 50 miles. My wife and boys crewed for me the entire time. The boys would run down the trail to me, grabbing my bottles and asking what I wanted, then run back to their Mom giving her any special requests. Most of the day my needs were simple; ice water and Gu. Once I had them make me up a bottle of Perpetuem and once a bottle of Starbucks Coffee Frap. The aid along the course was good and offered the usual ultra goodies. I got to the 50 mile turn around in 11:50 where my crew was waiting with a Dairy Queen cheeseburger and chocolate malt! As I left the 50 mile aid station I was looking forward to the night and the cooler temperatures that it would bring.
I was lucky enough to run most of the day with Bonnelle who was having a great day. Her plan was to pick up a pacer at mile 50 or 60 and I was welcome to tag along if I wasn't too far ahead by then.(Her words) At mile 60 we picked up Jeff who just a week before won his age group at Leadville 100 and also received Leadman for finishing the Leadville marathon, 50 mile run, 100 mile mtn. bike ride and the 100 mile run! We picked up lights at the Crazy Horse Memorial parking lot and headed off into the dark of the Black Hills. I ran much of the night by myself seeing Jeff and Bonnelle's lights in the distance ahead. She would go right through the aid stations as Jeff would gather what she needed from "The Crew Van" and catch back up to her. As a side note, the van was the envy of every runner and crew out there! We ended up passing quite a few runners as we made our way back to Hot Springs. Mile 75 to 100 was similar to the last time I did 100 miles. It seems as though time slows to a crawl. My strategy after 50 miles was to just take it 5 miles at a time, which seems to work okay until mile 85 when 5 miles seems to take a month. 90 to 95 is even worse. The sun is starting to come up and you realize that you've been running almost 24 hours. Then it hits you...if you walk, the last 5 miles could take up to 2 hours! But I don't want to be out here for 2 more hours! So...I guess I'll run. That works for awhile, then your body protests to a level that your mind can't override. So you eat a gel and push on, trying to block out the pain and just take it for what it is.
At some point you wonder why you're doing this? Why put yourself through the pain, the mental challenges, all those hours of training? You wonder if it's worth it. Then you get to mile 99 and the finish line is in sight. You're running faster than you have all day and feeling great. The pain is gone. No longer tired, you fly through the last few turns like you're finishing a local 5k. Someone yells out, "Way to go runner" and it almost brings you to tears. Maybe you're emotions are all on the surface. Maybe you're just exhausted. Maybe you're just proud to have made it to the finish. I think it's all of those things and the fact that I'm just thrilled to be a runner.
Then it's over. The trip back to California was great. We stopped to see friends in Colorado and saw some of the most beautiful scenery we'd ever seen. When we finally arrived home the race was a jumble of memories. My feet were swollen for 2 days and I have a blister on one foot. Other than that I feel great. This morning I went to the gym and on a bike ride. I'll start running again soon and am already thinking about the next challenge. For now I'm looking forward to cooler temps and running the Grand Canyon in October. I want to say thank you to Jerry for putting on a great race and to Lisa and the boys for all their support and encouragement.

Until next time, happy trails,