tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86111724412203385012024-03-13T02:47:56.223-07:00Got to runBecause the Internet appears to be short on ultra-running bloggers...Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-77972680148895361132019-07-12T17:32:00.002-07:002021-07-14T14:01:09.724-07:00Tips from a serial Tahoe Rim Trail 100 RacerIn 2019, I'll be going after my fifth finish at Tahoe Rim Trail 100 mile endurance run. If I succeed, I'll get a wonderful, hand carved leather belt that says "TRT500" on the back. As much as I love, and treasure this race, I'm eager to try different July (BADWATER)/August events in the future, so this could be my last TRT for a few years. I've run the course 9 times now (2 per 100, and I ran it first as a 50M in 2011), and while there are many more prolific TRTers, I still might have some insight on what it might be like to run this race. I thought I'd share!<br />
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<b>Altitude</b><br />
The Tahoe Rim Trail course tops off at 9000 feet (Snow Valley Peak), with a low point of 6800 feet (bottom of Red House). Easily more than half of the course is above 8000 feet.We all have different tolerances to altitude, and our experiences may vary depending on the instances as well. I've, historically, done pretty well at higher altitudes, and used to joke that my altitude training was all through skydiving (I am a retired skydiver now). Even still, the first time I ran TRT100, I was constantly wanting to drop. I sometimes run races without a watch, to encourage myself to run by feel (my marathon PR was run this way). The problem, that year, is that I didn't feel very good. I thought I was running poorly, without even knowing how much time I had, and figured I was too far behind to finish the race. Near the start of the second loop, at Hobart, someone else's pacer asked how I was doing, sat down with me and gave me a pep talk. It was then, that I realized, that what was going was due to altitude. Simply, having an explanation for being slower, or more tired than I thought I should be was enough. I think I was thinking of altitude effects as having nausea, and headaches, and now understand the effects can be more subtle.<br />
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By the way, you might pee a lot more. One year, I was stopping to pee every 3 or 4 miles. I thought I was overhydrating, even though it didn't seem like I was over drinking. But this is your body wanting your blood thicker, so your hemoglobin is more concentrated.<br />
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<a href="https://www.bicycling.com/training/g20045947/this-is-your-body-on-altitude/">Here's a good article about what to expect with altitude.</a><br />
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I may not get full on nausea, but I do feel somewhat queasy at times on this course. I use ginger chews, and sometimes Hobart had ginger snaps. I should probably put ginger chews in my drop bags.<br />
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<b>Attitude</b><br />
There are sections of this course that are easy to hate. Diamond Peak is a clear favorite. Red House Loop at night is where I'm mentally the lowest for this race. But that 8.5 mile downhill section to Tyrolian Village was the worst. It should be a cruise, but often, it just hurts. The second year I ran TRT100, I committed to myself to find one thing to love about each section. So the moment my mind started to find things to complain about, I instead started to find things to be grateful of. So let's look at those sections!<br />
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<u>Spooner to Hobart </u><br />
Distance: 7 miles<br />
Thing to love about this section: Humane uphills, and some fun downhills, and a general sense of optimism<br />
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The path from Spooner to Hobart is a beautiful section both times. In the morning, the initial climbs are deceptively runnable uphill (and at the start, can be dusty with the crowd, wear a buff if you're bothered by it), and it takes a bit of restraint to not expend too much energy too early. The downhill to Marlette Lake is a fun little dip, before we hit a steep, but short climb, to get to Hobart. The second time through, you're buoyed by the feeling of being halfway through, and if you're later in the pack, the temperatures are usually very comfortable, and the shadows long as we start to approach sunset. It's a good idea to grab some bug spray at the 50 mark, as the mosquitos are out in the swampier sections in the evening. Hobart itself is an incredible aid station. One thing to look for is their ensure smoothies, and ginger snaps. This aid station also includes a decently stocked bar, but let's we'll get back to that.<br />
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<u>Hobart to Tunnel Creek</u><br />
Distance: 5 miles<br />
Things to love: The views, and that wonderful downhill single track.<br />
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Right after Hobart, you climb up to Marlette Peak, which offers one of the best views of the entire course. If you're toward the back the pack, this is just around sunset the second time around. Some years, there may be snow. We continue climbing to Harlan Peak, where you might have your photo taken in the morning, and then descend a fast, soft single track to Tunnel Creek. Although harder the second time, you'll probably still have enough legs to make decent time going downhill. When you get to Tunnel Creek, it might feel like Grand Central Station, and in many ways it is. After all, we pass through it 6 times during the race. Pack your Tunnel Creek drop bag carefully! Change of clothes, warmer clothes, batteries, electrolytes, emergency shoes, dry socks. I pack cans of Starbucks frappucinos, which are a nice night time treat.<br />
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<u>Tunnel Creek to Red House</u><br />
Distance: 3 miles<br />
Things to Love: It's short. The creek crossings are different, and cool water on the feet might be nice.<br />
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The descent on the Red House Loop is a quad thrasher. It can be difficult to balance going fast enough that you're not beating up your quads from applying the brakes, to going slow enough that you're not jackhammering your knees. The footing is tricky, as much of this trail is sand with some very rocky sections. The first time through, this section will likely be hot. The second time through, it'll likely be not cold. Make sure to go left at the one intersection. At the bottom, there can be a creek crossing where you get your feet wet, but in recent years, there have been rounds placed so you can step on through without issue. But eventually, you'll probably get your feet wet just before the Red House aid station. I don't worry about the water any more, but it's a good plan to keep dry socks (at least two pair) in your Tunnel Creek drop bag. That steep downhill is mirrored by a steep uphill. It's not pleasant. But it's short(ish). Red House aid station is always wacky. Look for things like theme named electrolyte drinks, or pickles.<br />
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<u>Red House to Tunnel Creek</u><br />
Distance: 3 miles<br />
Things to Love: There's a runnable section, if you can still run.<br />
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First time through, this section can be hot. It starts off with a flatter, runnable section, through vegetation, with the musical sound of trickling water in your ears. The second time through, this section can be incredibly frustrating if your legs are beat from that climb up from the bottom. It's ok, things will get better. It isn't easy for any of this, and there's still lots of race to be had. Heap on top of that, another steep, and sandy climb at the end. And you're so glad to be back at Tunnel Creek.<br />
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<u>Tunnel Creek to Bull Wheel</u><br />
Distance: 3 miles<br />
Things to Love: Beautiful views, humane climbs, runnability<br />
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The section from Tunnel Creek to Bull Wheel is fairly short, but be aware that the next section is long, and Bull Wheel is a small aid station. So it's a good idea to carry extra food to go beyond this 3 mile section, especially at night. Although there's some climbing, this section is very runnable if you have the legs, and the views are majestic. It's usually not too cold, I often find that if I stop too long at Tunnel Creek before going onto this section, I'll get colder and over dress. Not a bad thing, though, as once you're at Bull Wheel, it can be briefly windy, and breezier, until you start heading down to Diamond Peak.<br />
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<u>Bull Wheel to Diamond Peak</u><br />
Distance: 8.5 miles<br />
Things to Love: Get your running legs back. Enjoy that last rolling section to the village<br />
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BRING PLENTY OF FLUIDS WITH YOU AND FOOD.This is a long section, and you don't want to run out of anything. On the second loop, when you're going slower, you might need more than just two bottles. At the very least, make sure you leave this aid station with a bottle's worth of water in your belly. This is the section that inspired the idea to find something about every section to love. This downhill can be painful, both times even (unless you've paced yourself better than me). It's a long, quite steep downhill, that twists and turns, and looks like it'd be incredibly fun on a mountain bike, don't you wish you had one now. But it's a great idea to restart your engine, and get that relentless forward progress going. And if you do before the trail flattens out, you can be rewarded with a fun and fast rolling section that follows the creek before going up to Tyrolean Village. It'll lift your soul to see that first building. Don't cheer too loudly Sunday morning/night, and wake the residents! Onward to Diamond Peak aid station, where you can sit on a toilet, and wash your hands in a sink! Usually well stocked, pickings can be slim the second day (they'll have enough nutrition, but might have run out of breakfast depending on what time you get there). Also note, some years, you may have quite a bit of mountain bikers on this section (don't worry, they aren't early risers, so you won't see them on Sunday).<br />
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<u>Diamond Peak to Bull Wheel</u><br />
Distance: 2 miles<br />
Things to Love: If you love climbs, you're going to love this. If you don't love climbs, hey, it's short.<br />
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I love climbs, and I love this section of the course. I kept saying this until it became true. This is the hill that will inspire the debate, "poles or no poles." This climb is up a double black diamond ski slope, and is known affectionately as the WTF hill. A pair of poles will let you climb this hill using all your limbs. For me, I find poles useful throughout the entire course, the downhill at Red House to offload my knees, the steep uphills to offload my quads, to vault up the boulders from Tunnel Creek to Hobart. Poles or no poles, this is a tough hill, and it's ok to stop to catch your breath, or let the ache in your legs subside. And yes, there are false summits. It's only when you have a hint of a ski lift at the top of one of those summits, that you're at the last summit (there's that ski lift equipment mid-hill, but that's obviously not a summit). Don't stress about your pace, when you want to rest, turn around and look at the view.<br />
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<u>Bull Wheel to Tunnel Creek</u><br />
Distance: 3 miles<br />
Things to Love: Diamond Peak is behind you. Runnable, downhill trail.<br />
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This is the same section as before, but in reverse. And it's even more runnable, being over all downhill. The second time, the 3 miles will seem long, and you'll expect Tunnel Creek every bend in the trail. Don't worry, it's coming. You're just not running as fast as you think.<br />
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<u>Tunnel Creek to Hobart</u><br />
Distance: 5 miles<br />
Things to Love: Turning that corner, and seeing Hobart down the hill with nothing but downhill between you.<br />
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Also the same section as before, but in reverse. As I mentioned, I find poles helpful to help vault over some of the rockier sections, and larger leg lifts, as you probably don't remember this being this steep going down, or how the trail winds through rocky walls. This is also often where the slow meet the fast! It's near tradition for me to order something from the bar, the last time through Hobart. Don't over do it!<br />
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<u>Hobart to Snow Valley Peak</u><br />
Distance: 3 miles<br />
Things to Love: the Boy Scout camp, gelato, and the signs<br />
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Be alert at the intersection to figure out where you're going; you're not going back to Spooner just yet. You'll get a nice flatter section that will soon begin climbing and climbing. You might encounter snow. You might encounter snow fields. This is a long three miles, but the final one is marked by signs that the boy scouts place along the trail. You'll crest a hill, and see their aid station, but be careful as it's quite rocky running in. The boy scouts really work hard to look after you. And the gelato on the second day is your true taste of heaven.<br />
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<u>Snow Valley Peak to Spooner Summit</u><br />
Distance: 5.5 miles<br />
Things to Love: Downhill, amazing vista<br />
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The initial downhill from Snow Valley Peak soon becomes a trail that clings to the side of the mountain. No one's fallen off during a race yet. The second time through, this section will be unbearably long, and you might find yourself thinking you must have missed a ribbon, and are lost. But it's hard to get lost. I recommend getting familiar with the landmarks the first time through, so you remember them on the second loop. There are often these strange log piles, or that one section where you finally hit the bottom of the hill, and it curves to the right for a long straightaway before winding up hill again. And then the buildings that you see on the course. Finally, at some point, you begin to hear the sound of the road again. It's a few more corners before you finally see Spooner Summit aid station. Unless I'm going to miss cut off, or I'm on the edge of a different buckle time, I like to stop here because the cub scouts really want to serve you.<br />
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<u>Spooner Summit to Spooner Lake</u><br />
Distance: 1.7 miles<br />
Things to Love: The smell of the barn<br />
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1.7 miles is a long ways to sprint, even if it feels so close. It's all runnable, although the short rolling hills will feel quite steep after 99 miles. Hearing the crowd at the end is electric. I can't wait for you all to make it here, twice.<br />
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<b>Weather</b><br />
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This course can be chilly, in the morning and at night. In addition to light jackets, and additional layers, I've found gloves in the morning, and evening to take the edge off of the cold. You don't generally need long pants, at night. My first year, doing the 100, was the thunderstorm and flash flooding year. It was crazy. That race, we had rain on Saturday, late afternoon, but then all hell broke loose Sunday morning. I was carrying a jacket, but almost ditched it at Tunnel Creek during my second loop, because it was quite hot, and a little bit humid. It would have been incredibly uncomfortable without some protection, and now, I carry a jacket 100% of the time, almost in every race. In addition, I've stopped worrying about optimizing my weight savings by which drop bag, I have a light, and carry at least a small flashlight with me at all times (I had a headlamp start to go out on Red House loop one year), picking up my headlamp as I go. A lot can happen, and these things could save your race, and in severe cases, maybe your life. Of course, this race can also be hot (I don't know why, but Sunday always seems hotter than Saturday), in the 90s or higher, so plan accordingly. I've seen snow, during a couple of years. It's never severely interfered, and often adds to the excitement of the race.<br />
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<b>What a Start With</b><br />
hat<br />
buff<br />
mountain bike, collared shirt (Club Ride)<br />
shorts (Saxx)<br />
hydration pack with two bottles (UltrAspire)<br />
poles, if they're not in my drop<br />
arm sleeves<br />
electrolyte tablets, 3 gels, ginger chews<br />
light jacket<br />
lightweight headlamp or flashlight<br />
phone for pictures<br />
socks<br />
gaiters<br />
shoes<br />
gloves if it's chilly<br />
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<b>Drop Bags</b><br />
<br />
I'm a pretty low maintenance racer; I've never had a crew, or a pacer, and don't spend much time messing with drop bags. So depending on your style of racing, my drop bag advice may or may not be valuable. For this race, I have two: Tunnel Creek and 50 mile/finish.<br />
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<u>Tunnel Creek Bag</u><br />
3 pairs of socks, some larger than normal<br />
canned coffee drinks<br />
pajama pants<br />
long sleeve shirt<br />
alternate jacket<br />
shorts<br />
pre-bagged electrolyte packs<br />
gels that I like<br />
gloves<br />
head lamp<br />
shoes<br />
tape for feet<br />
tincture of benzoin for taping<br />
poles<br />
extra bottle<br />
<br />
<u>50 mile bag</u><br />
shoes<br />
1 pair of socks<br />
pajama pants<br />
long sleeve shirt<br />
alternate jacket<br />
gloves<br />
pre-bagged electrolyte packs<br />
shorts<br />
gloves<br />
head lamp<br />
<br />
They pretty much look the same. In 2018, I didn't use my drop bags. In previous years, I changed shorts (chafing issue) at the 50 mark, picked up warmer clothing, changed socks often, changed shoes once.<br />
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Please feel free to comment, ask questions, add your tips! Happy racing!! See you in Spooner!Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-14102322589679553712019-07-12T13:49:00.000-07:002019-07-12T14:43:21.470-07:00A Tolerance for Pain: 2017 Tahoe Rim Trail 100 <div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
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<i>All I have's a pair of shoes, a tolerance for pain,</i></div>
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<i><i>A set of hiking poles, and a postrace cane.</i></i></div>
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<i><i>Insane, that course brings out a different side of me. </i></i></div>
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<i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Hobart pours scotch for me. Diamond Peak takes a bite of me.</span></i></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Bombing down Red House Loop, like I was a child,</span></i></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Why do I fry my quads running so buckwild?</span></i></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">But man, gelato on day two, that was real. </span></i></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">And as long as I'm alive, TRT, swear to God,</span></i></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">You'll never feel so ....</span></i></span></i></div>
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<i>Helpless</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A heel spur will get you out of anything from fighting for your country in a foreign war, to running your favorite (so far) 100 mile race in the mountains. The latter was my case in 2016. My heel spur started bothering me in October 2015, and quickly became debilitating. Soon, runs of any distance were no longer productive, and 2016 became a depressingly non-running year. I was registered for TWO summer hundreds (Tahoe Rim Trail 100, and Angeles Crest), and had to sit both out, despite those fleeting thoughts of "Well, the cutoff is pretty generous, maybe I could hike the whole thing?" But as Tonya Olsen quipped on Facebook to me about the condition, (probably paraphrasing) "With treatment, this sort of thing resolves in 18 months, without treatment, a year and a half." Eventually, the bone spur's grip on me lessened, six months or half a year, depending how you look at it, ahead of schedule, and I ramped up my running for the second half of October, trying to get my Western States and Tahoe Rim Trail qualifiers at the last possible race: Rio Del Lago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, a couple of weeks of training wasn't quite enough for a successful 100 mile finish, and I dropped just shy of 50 miles, but not after running across No Hands Bridge, because I've never had the opportunity to run across No Hands Bridge in a race before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So December was a little depressing as my ticket count for Western States was reset, and I was out of the running for Tahoe....wait! What's this? Tahoe Rim Trail's qualification period includes TRT100 for the previous TWO YEARS. I'M STILL IN!!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2017 was going to be my year, I just knew it! But this time, I wasn't going to wait until TRT to qualify for States, I was going to get my qualifiers in early and often, and signed up for Quicksilver 100k as well. After my yearly tradition of getting lazy over the Christmas holidays, I tackle the road eagerly come January.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Longevity in endurance sports is a tricky thing, not just due to the toll that it might take on the body. Training for your first marathon, you might have the eager support of your family and friends. But to be habitually gone for hours at a time on weekends year after year gets kind of tricky. So you might try getting creative with your schedule to get your miles in. For me, that meant running as part of my commute. I started running from the train station into work; a 5 to 6 mile run depending on how flooded Guadalupe trail is (and in January, that would be very flooded). My work isn't remote desktop friendly, however, which meant lugging my laptop with me every time. I soon got used to it, and decided to do the run commute both ways. My mileage ramp might have been rather steep, but my legs seemed to handle it, although I would get some minor complaints from my left calf, from time to time. Run commute was just my thing, productive, effective, and satisfying.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then one day, for some forgotten reason, I had to drive into work. This is a pretty rare event, since when I usually switch to my motorcycle when not taking the train. But driving into work means I can actually hit a trail for run, so Mission Peak it was. It's been awhile since I tackled a hill, and I was a little disheartened to find that I had to take walking breaks, maybe that's why I took the downhill hard (Strava tells me it was a PR). Subsequent runs that week were rather tough, so I take a few days off. But then, as I started a run with a coworker, within the first minute, something is wrong, and immediately stop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've battled my share of calf injuries in my time, to the point where I self-appoint myself some expertise. But this time was rather unusual. With the first few steps of that run, it felt like pins and needles deep inside, almost pin pricks of...breakage. And while it's unlike any calf injury I have had before, it's still familiar, as I do know what a stress fracture feels like. I do confirm that my calf is injured a few days later by going for a trail run while my son rides his mountain bike (that scenario is just too compelling for an ultrarunning father to not let it play out), that leaves me limping for days. After the fact, it makes much too much sense; aggressive mileage ramp up with no pull back weeks, extra loading during the mileage, and a final hard downhill run. I eventually see my doctor weeks later (because too early, and nothing will likely show up on an X-ray), and it remains unconfirmed, although the radiologist does indicate something unusual around the fibia and recommends an MRI (which I don't get, because...money). In any case, a strained calf, or a stress fracture, I figure the treatment is about the same; no activity that aggravates the injury for at least six weeks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The thing about calf injuries, at least for me, is that they'll feel fine, and then, within a couple of steps, there will be debilitating pain. This was the case for San Francisco Marathon one year, where I had stopped running due to a calf injury, made it to the starting line, started, and didn't even make it a mile. Reducing intensity doesn't help, it just takes time, and no running at all. But this was the beginning of April, and there's Quicksilver in May. I needed to at least see if I could run at Quicksilver, right? May 3, I made it a mile and half, before I had to hobble back. And now I'm worried I may have reset that clock, and I'm running out of time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At the end of May, I try really hard to be more disciplined with my return to running. I start off at a mile, and slowly work that up to 3. I work all the way up to 6 miles before I start having issues again. June 6, my run is cut short at 1.5 miles. On June 9th, I only make it 0.6 miles. I make the call; if I'm going to train for Tahoe Rim Trail 100, I can't do it by running.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">With two previous finishes at TRT, I knew the course well, and I knew that the 35 hours given to complete the course is pretty generous. I've always wondered, can you hike all of Tahoe Rim Trail 100 and make it in time? I was going to train to HIKE it. I switched to cycling, most days cycling all the way into work (giving me about a 40 mile day), and some days going both ways (for a 68 mile day). During the day, I would hike about an hour, with a schedule of 4 minutes walking, 1 minute running (very gradually stretching that 1 minute). My goal for my hikes was to average out 15 minutes per mile, and basically set my walking metronome to hit that pace.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41);"><br /></span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline;">By June 24, I took my son to the fair by BART and his bike. I ran the 4 miles slowly but everything was holding together. A few more runs (up to 7 miles) confirmed it, and my fitness seemed to be intact. </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">July 15 comes, and it's race day. I'm toeing the line, with my </span>longest<span style="font-family: inherit;"> run being a mere 10 miles (but at least I've done it twice), run only around 25 miles for the entire month of June, and maybe 60 miles for all of May. Will my cross-training experiment work?</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tahoe Rim Trail 100 is no joke under normal circumstances, and 2017 was a particularly challenging year, with an extremely hot second day, many stream crossings on Red House Loop, punctuated by snow, that was more entertaining that challenging, and don't forget the damn mosquitos. Struggling with injuries means that there are many ultra friends I haven't seen in ages, and maybe that's the worst part; being separated from that community. This race was damn hard for me, but I think I struggled more the first time I did it, because I hadn't figured out how to always think positive. Sure, there was a moment on the second time through Red House Loop where I thought I wouldn't be able to pull this off, but this year I was fueled by a motto, and an anti-motto: "I am not throwing away my shot" and "Why be strong, when you could be comfortable." </span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">34:00:51. And just like that it's over.</span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you, my friends! </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000009888295&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/jkswenson?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Joseph Swenson</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100001966337148&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/debra.swenson.96?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Debra Swenson</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1403676750&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/chadmerritt911?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Chad Merritt</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1181142933&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/dennis.connor.73?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Dennis Connor</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000509370034&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/sandy.baker.988?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Sandy Baker</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=558697168&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/tonyakolson?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Tonya K Olson</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=6707024&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/evan.namkung?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Evan Namkung</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100001390532617&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/marilyn.oberhardt?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Marilyn Oberhardt</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1609527758&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/stevenpatt?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Steve Patt</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=675425851&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/anilkrao?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Anil Rao</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=557892454&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/rick.gaston.50?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Rick Gaston</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1041553539&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/kelly.ridgway.16?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Kelly Ridgway-Smith</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1452110071&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/cbdimples?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Christy Bentivoglio</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> and always, </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1566564831&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/noe.castanon.52?fref=mentions" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">Noé Castañón</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, who rocked Hardrock harder than I rocked Tahoe Rim Trail.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Oh, by the way. After this race, I have determined, you cannot do Tahoe Rim Trail 100 solely by hiking.</span><br />
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<tr style="background-color: white;"><th align="left" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Place</a></th><th align="left" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">first</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">last_name</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Gender</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Age</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Bib</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Tunnel Creek / Red House 1</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Diamond Peak Lodge1</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Tunnel Creek / Diamond inbound1</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Snow Valley Peak1</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Stonehenge 50 Mile1</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Tunnel Creek / Red House 2</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Diamond Peak Lodge2</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Tunnel Creek / Diamond inbound2</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Snow Valley Peak2</a></th><th align="center" scope="col" style="background-color: gainsboro; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #505050; font-weight: 400; padding: 2px 5px 2px 2px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="font-size: 13px; text-decoration: underline;">Finish Line!!!1</a></th></tr>
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<tr style="background-color: white;"><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">136</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">Baldwyn</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">Chieh</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">M</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;"> 48</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">34</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;"> 21:00:59</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">25:55:05</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">9:17:36</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">12:19:01</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;"> 14:25:07</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;"> 21:01:10</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">25:55:06</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">27:50:11</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">31:07:06</td><td style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; color: #333333; height: 25px; padding: 2px 5px;">34:00:51</td></tr>
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Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-72037932762488031142014-07-12T12:28:00.001-07:002014-07-12T12:34:03.633-07:00The Importance of My Training and Other Lies I Have Never Told You<b>Razorback Endurance Runs, March 9-10, 2013</b><p>
<a href="http://rajeevtherunner.blogspot.com/">Rajeev Patel</a> becomes an expert at predicting our finish times. He mumbles something about finishing before noon, or maybe one. I'm barely following his math at this point, and it's simple math. All he's doing is taking our remaining mileage and dividing by THREE, and adding it to the hour of the current time. My problem is not the division, or even the addition, it's that I don't know what the current time is. I know it's dark, and it feels like we've been travelling under starlight for days, but sometimes only minutes. Daylight savings is ending, or starting, I forget, but it is certainly doing something with the time we will finish, but has nothing to do with our elapsed time. Also, I'm three laps (six miles) ahead of him (which would be 2 hours, see, I don't have a problem with the division), and I'm not sure if he's talking about his finish time, or mine. But mostly, I'm sleepy, and my aggressive race goals (sub 24 hour? Did I actually say 22 hours at one point?) have fled. A finish seems locked in, although you can never tell. I do have a 100 mile PR in my sights (need to beat 29 hours), but I don't really care if I beat 28, if it means breaking out of a walk and into a run. Rajeev has this interesting philosophy about control. What do you do, when you don't have control of the situation? You surrender. I stop worrying and bemoaning about the goals I've missed, and I concentrate on relentless forward progress.
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<br />
I turn to Rajeev and say, "You know, I thought I was going to come in under 24 hours during this race." <br />
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Rajeev says, "Me too!"<br />
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"Now I'm thinking, where the hell do I get off thinking I can just pull out a sub 24 hour 100 mile run, without training for a sub 24 hour 100 mile finish? Did I really think I was that talented?"<br />
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And there it is. I am a practitioner of the art of getting by. I used to be a decent pianist, and in high school, I learnt part of the Revolutionary Etude (Etude Opus 10, No 12) by Frederic Chopin because damn, that's one flashy piece. My left hand fingers are going like MAD as they sprint the descent, while the right hand is banging out chords inspired by cannon fire on Warsaw. Yeah dawg, it's like Van Halen's Eruption on the piano. This is the sort of virtuosity you should expect out of a future mate. One friend of mine, Mike Davies, saw through the deception. It's not that I couldn't play the first two pages decently well, it's that eventually all the sound and fury took a breather, and we have a lilting, melodic passage, where teenagers begin to lose interest, and that's all I taught myself of the song. As everyone stopped paying attention to my playing, I could stumble into an abbreviated ending, make some comment, and break into something like Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G Minor to regain the spotlight. Mike called me on it one day. Well, not really called me on it, but perhaps even admired that I knew enough of the song to seem impressive, without bothering to learn the whole thing. The art of getting by.<br />
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<a href="https://sites.google.com/a/tracysracing.com/razorback/home">Razorback Endurance Race</a> was created during the post-run euphoria of <a href="http://www.rundamore.com/">Run d'Amore</a>, with Tracy Crane as Race Director. Last summer, I tweaked a calf badly, and stubbornly ran on it, which tweaked the opposite hamstring. Both injuries essentially forced me to stop running until October. So, just 4 weeks of running after injuries, I was hoping I could get by in the 100 at Run d'Amore (you can read that race report <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2012/11/bombardier-baldwyn-and-blisters-of-doom.html">here</a>), but gave up at 50 miles, and went to bed. But the next morning, I awoke feeling pretty great, so I continued to run 36 more miles before time cut me off. So I learnt, I should be able to get by again, if only I don't give up. <p>
Well, actually, I was getting tired of getting injured. Run d'Amore did show me that I could really return to running, but I decided to be conservative in my training, with Tahoe Rim Trail 100 as my goal race. Stay healthy, train smartly. Starting at a modest base of 18 miles, with a 10 mile long run, I stuck by the 10% per week increase rule, and tried to concentrate on base building, and not doing any fast stuff. There were hiccups along the way (getting sick, vacations) so the buildup took a few setbacks but by February, I hit an 18 mile day, at 28 miles a week. Also, I may have cranked out some pretty speedy long runs in there. Of course, I was going to ruin this if I was thinking of running a March 100 miler. Old dog. New trick.<br />
<br />
I hadn't actually intended to run Razorback, as part of my life on the other side of the leaf, but shortly after Razorback started to take shape, Tracy was looking at Razorback designs off the web. I like to draw, but I don't often put forth the effort to create finished pieces. I often just do enough in a sketch...to get by. I started a new blog this year to track my daily sketches (<a href="http://drawdaily.blogspot.com">http://drawndaily.blogspot.com/</a>), hoping that it would give me more discipline in actually sticking by the idea of sketching daily (I started the practice last year, but once I fell out of it, the sketchbook started getting dusty). So I felt sufficiently limber, creatively. Anyways,I thought some custom artwork might be in order, so I emailed her and asked if I could try drawing some stuff, and she could use it or not use it as she saw fit. Well, eventually she came back with some tweaks on the original drawing, and after a few revisions decided she liked what she saw and was going to put it on a buckle! Well, now I had to run the race. I mean, having your artwork on a buckle that you can earn? How many people get to do that? But even more than that, this is something someone is going to envision in the darkest hours of their run, and cherish forever. <br />
<br />
<center>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/tkEWNyXMzyg1gMwBYncGlID4cEhYPCDBZiSIg48l9xc?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70S2eQL4ywF8IWaoUeljBpnh-5s22xSCsRANp00UsGKHfWEVkeSBxdKAig3rKQVoGqj651QjCVyV9opCuUXO7WGkYGdquP6oJa6FE73tVDPAvbsiIbQiqlehkwuDNi9MtpqvI3i7OYYg/s640/DSC00896.JPG" width="640" /></a><br><small><i>I can't find the original 4 other sheets of sketches, but here are some of the later versions</i></small></center><p>
I tried to recruit more runners, and managed to nab Luke Casey for his first half marathon, at least in recent history, and Ron Duncan who basically decided the Wednesday before the race as I caught him out during a lunch run (after going sub 3 hours at Napa Valley marathon, the weekend before). One of Ron Duncan's goals for his running in 2013 is to run his race mileage PR. He ran 64.7 miles at a 12 hour race in 2010.<br />
<br />
Luke picked me up, shortly after 4am. The previous canine disaster with Jose San Gabriel and Run d'Amore was not repeated. Old dog. NEW trick! Luke and I have only met in person once before. I know him because of the network of my daughter's barn. He's a fellow bicycle commuter, and although he runs, he manages to stay very grounded with his goals. We get along just fine anyways.<p>
It's still dark when we pull up to the parking lot, and I have a decent amount of time to set up. Man, it's great to see everyone. When I see Alan Geraldi and Rajeev Patel together, it brings me back to my second ultramarathon, <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-at-lake.html">Ruth Anderson in 2008</a>. That's where I truly felt connected to a running community. And I don't think I really introduced myself in person to Tracy at Run d'Amore, but get the chance now, and finally get to see the BUCKLE in person!
<br />
<br />
Not long after I get settled in, it's time to start! We get the pre-race speeches, and an actual professional photograph of all current participants, and we're off! Luke and the other half-marathoners take the lead, and I feel the pull of their gravity, and run uncomfortably easy, otherwise known as comfortably hard. This is actually the plan. Last year's successes (Napa Valley Marathon, American River, and Ruth Anderson 50M, blogs still pending), were all based on the idea of going out comfortably hard as long as I can, and dealing with the aftermath. Maybe it will work with a 100 miler, maybe not, but with these sorts of distances, it takes a few tries to figure out what works and what doesn't. However, I start actually lapping people I shouldn't be lapping, and I wonder if I'm being foolish.<p>
Some how, I actually lap Ron, who's been busy socializing. But he's more than glad to run with me. We start knocking out the laps, and soon I hit the 14 mile mark to find Luke has finished. We're just over the two hour mark.<br />
<br />
Legs and joints are holding together pretty well, but strangely, my glutes are feeling strained, something I've never experienced before. I try to push any worry back into a dark corner of my mind, and just roll with it. Ron is great company, and pushes me forward until the marathon mark. At some point, I check my pace, and realize that I'm going much too fast for a 100. In fact, I'm just about on pace to break my best 50 mile time. I decide to part with Ron, and walk a bit of a lap.<br />
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6GoWvKbqu1nT5sJktUQUC4D4cEhYPCDBZiSIg48l9xc?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvWqAr58f3X_Tj7meRy8Ayknm7swO1me9G4cxMhpGQ2lv9QCMV97mjQ3n8bKaUGX1lXlyVefMS7cMIK_S2a48I5ggvtDPtBOzM40KXNAdZDoSQwwQRezXamuU7MXpQ_St2XbQARkXJI8/s400/522562_10200493362234635_908841600_n.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a><p><small><i>At the halfway mark</i></small><p></center>
<br />
Suddenly, it hits me. I am SLEEPY! It occurs to me that I haven't had any caffeine all day, and this is coming from someone with a 6 cups of coffee habit per day. I mentally note that I need to cut down on coffee, and to start drinking Coca Cola at the aid stations.<p>
I have to take a bio break, and enter one of the Porta Potties, to find that someone had preceded me, and partook of a little bit of marijuana! Obviously, not a closed cours. Add that in with the lack of caffeine, and I ended up taking a nap...in the Porta Potty!!<p>
Well, feeling newly rejuvenated, and definitely more relaxed, but with a mad case of the munchies, I get back to work. I hit the 50 mile mark in 9.5 hours, which would make it my third fastest 50 mile run. Now you might see why I started predicting a sub 24 hour finish time.
<p>
Eventually, darkness settles in, and I get to share Ron's final laps with him. He finishes the day with 70.7 miles, enough for his mileage PR. The 100 mile goal for Ron doesn't have the same gravitational pull as a warm bed, and a regular Sunday does. I remember seeing Alva coming in around this time, and give her a hug, reminded of our journey just a few months before on the same course.
<p>
The night has a way of bringing people together. The darkness transforms a run into a journey, and what's a journey without companions. Rajeev is the shining example of a running ambassador, and reminds me of when the Ultra world was so much smaller. We spend many dark laps together, joined by Dan Marinsik for awhile, and I'm endlessly entertained by the conversation. Rajeev tells me the tale of Everest in 1997, which subsequently directs my reading material in that direction for the next few months. This is good Ultra-running material. Who can complain about aching quads when you're learning about Beck Weathers, and his remarkable lizard brained ability to stay alive? And then, when the conversation lulls, you can count on a burst of song to keep you moving. Eventually, however, even Rajeev stops to try to rest, and I push on alone. March in California can still get pretty cold, and the glowing heat lamps at the main aid station makes me feel like a newly hatched bird in search of an incubator. So I curl up in front of one, and try to take a 40 minute lap, myself. Sleep doesn't really come to me, not enough secondary smoke from a joint around, I guess, and I never get comfortable because my back is cold. This is how it should be at every aid station. I get back on my feet.
<p>
I forget when Alva joined me, but it was the perfect way to finish the race. On my last lap, I spot Naresh Kumar and others about half a mile away. I mention to Alva that if he was finishing I'd have to give him a run for his money (Naresh was a couple of laps behind me). She convinces me to go for a real finish anyways. So I start running, and it's not that bad. Soon the run breaks into a mad sprint, and I finish the 100 miles like I was finishing a 10k race. There's a nagging thought in my head that the death march trudging that I've been performing for the last few hours is not from giving into a physical exhaustion, but a mental one. <i>The art of getting by.</i> My official time: 28:14:49. I get awarded a Razorback buckle!
<p><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/MsGUPzwc0sWXOf9We2APpoD4cEhYPCDBZiSIg48l9xc?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJTJcTXa0QWgxTHJMsndasZBuQgd1T9JhNMDc5hYgOPCCdXx4TVKg4bX62zSFCwd7yP0eEa7qyJtpCRxvcIksBRtADel8WE_X7oIdncsYzDh9sVoexUIrILKaUBniFfftcw9Zx04JUl6U/s640/DSC00916.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></center><p>
When I finished San Diego 100, I felt a distinct lack of euphoria, and relief. There was almost a sense of depression. This was different! I'm among friends, and sit to cheer on the other finsihers! Matt Covey comes in right after me (my sprint actually nudged me up a spot), Naresh after one more lap. Rajeev marches in with a fan club. We lounge around in camp chairs, slowly drinking celebratory suds, with talk of victory, future battles, and admiring our co-competitors. Catra Corbett won the 100 mile race, with a PR time of 21:20:34!! Colby Wentlandt earns his FIRST BUCKLE at 12 years old, by completing 100k. After seeing pictures of him with tears in his eyes, holding a buckle that I helped design....I knew he had to be the recipient of the original art. <a href="http://amilewithcolby.blogspot.com/2013/03/razorback-was-so-much-fun-it-was-my.html">Read about it in his own words here!</a>
<p>
The success haunts me. When I hit the 80 mile mark, and looked down the flat strip of asphalt lit by the activity of the main aid station, I'm haunted by the image of the ridiculously stupid hill past Diamond Peak aid station at that mile mark in Tahoe Rim Trail 100. Better start some hill work if I'm going to get by.Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-67467846388884904402012-11-18T08:33:00.000-08:002012-11-18T08:48:56.937-08:00Bombardier Baldwyn and the Blisters of DoomAt one point in the journey, Alva turned to Ed and called him Jester, and then noted that everyone present had a nickname: Alva "Ultra Woof", Ed "Jester", and "Hardrock" Noé, except me. I immediately declared myself "Bombardier Baldwyn." Not the first time I've tried to bestow such a title upon myself, but maybe this time it will stick. Once upon a time, I wanted to be known as "Rico-Chieh", but that's a name more suitable for my son now, as I no longer bounce on impact but crunch.
<p>
The day does not begin very smoothly. One problem, with a hiatus of 6 months off of racing, is that the routine is no longer routine. My stuff is disorganized, and after putting on my running clothes, and then layering with sweats (I glance in the mirror and realize I have a homeless air about me), I find that I'm missing a calf sleeve; the magic bullet that I purchased two days before to cure my calf woes. Great. I spend much too much time trying to find it, before abandoning the quest and attempting to gather up my remaining items before Jose San Gabriel arrives to pick me up. Jose shows up at 3:45am, setting off a cacophony of unruly chihauhaus (the stars of this <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-birth-of-aura-and-how-i-came-to.html">tail</a>). At some point, my son inevitably wakes up, and I'm fetching him a cup of milk, when Jose, unaware of the prison break mentality of our non-chihauhau dog, stands by an open door allowing Convict Cub to seek freedom. He has never bolted out the door at night before, and I can envision that he gets back in touch with his primal nature as he sprints around the cul-de-sac, the old smells new to him, at least temporally. There is no point in chasing him down, I would a) not catch him, and b) tire my atrophied fast twitch muscles before even setting out. After some attempts anyway, my wife grudgingly accepts the task of waiting for him to decide the outside world is not for him, and to open the gates to comfortable captivity once again.
<p>
Jose is stressed by our late departure, even though he good-naturedly tries to disguise it. We talk about running, and how it works with family life, and list of races we'd like to do while we're still able to run. I enumerate my injuries, and am rewarded with a firsthand account of his epic triumph at Western States, where he arrived at the finish line in a time of 29:58:27, with a cutoff of 30:00:00. The tale distracts us from making a turn, and panic sets in once again (I mention being late only cuts into our running time), but we still make it with 50 minutes to spare. Not quite as dramatic as his Western States finish, but kindred in spirit.
<p>
<a href="http://www.rundamore.com">Run d'Amore</a> is set in San Martin, CA, and while the previous weekend may have been unseasonably warm, this weekend is uncharacteristically cold. All week, I had been monitoring the weather, seeing night time temps forecast to be in the low thirties and catching phrases like "snow as low as 3000 feet." I'm wearing Vibram Treks (the original kind) because they are the only shoes I've successfully run in in the past month, but they aren't built for warmth. Oh well, I figure my toes will only be icicles for the next hour or so, and I don't intend on staying shod in them the entire race.
<p>
I drop off my aid station donation: most of the Sport Beans and gels in my stash that will expire next spring that I figure I can't use anyways since I haven't been doing much running, a Costco pack of chips, two loaves worth of PB&Js quartered, and a bottle of El Jimador blanco tequila. This race started off "Fat-Ass" style but under the direction of Alan Geraldi and Rajeev Patel, it flourished into a full-blown affair with medals, buckles, bib numbers, first aid, and well stocked aid station. I think the only thing it was short was a pre-race day expo, a live band and guest speakers. I arrive to find Alan busy handing out race packets, keeping warm by being in constant motion.
<p><center>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/8jdMpXnyeWZfBBma0RWui5X400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-huBMAMYjnOs/UKXa4W21EMI/AAAAAAAAIy4/Z3_SZxxf_cE/s400/DSC09665.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a><br><i><small>Race Directors Alan Geraldi and Rajeev Patel</small></i><p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/OMs2NCKSxO4zGXa3LQdgXpX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-CbHfM0DSEZI/UKXa_exFGJI/AAAAAAAAIy4/3J6Xt6HKZjo/s400/DSC09671.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a><p></center>
Meanwhile, Rajeev spots me and immediately declares, "You look like a BAG LADY." Almost the effect I was going for, but I was trying to at least appear male. Unperturbed, I mill around the aid station, and greet Bill Mccarty and Jean Pommier. I eavesdrop on a conversation where I hear Jean say that he was in Buenos Aires the day before. That dude knows how to taper.<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WEvWp4Jco5wfqvc8u8Wx7JX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-gDwDb2UpH84/UKXa6iH4owI/AAAAAAAAIy4/zkOsWz4oigk/s400/DSC09667.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a><br><i><small>Jean Pommier, looking like a runner who lives in a house</small></i></center><p>
Alva Fong finds Jose and I and points the way to her tent, which becomes our home base. Yes, all my stuff becomes a disorganized sprawling stack, just like home. I got to learn about Peter Mingoa through Alva's Facebook posts and pictures. Peter had his first and only 100 mile finish on this course in August, during <a href="http://www.run-de-vous.com">Run de Vous</a>. Likeable, with an easy smile, he made friends wherever he went, and was seeking Titanium status in the Marathon Maniacs. Sadly, at 42, he died in September of a brain aneurysm. Run d'Amore honors his spirit, and his love of running. I never met Peter, and wish I had, and in many ways this race seemed like the best way to get to know him.
<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/hu9dDDXqQk7wDoVjtC-mn5X400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZTkk4xvTQNM/UKXbBSsWxeI/AAAAAAAAIy4/3G5hCAtMkDg/s400/DSC09673.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></br><i><small>"Ultra Woof" Alva, "Sexy" Rajeev, and "Photobomb" Scott</small></i><p></center>
<p>
Alva heads out onto the course early, at 5:30, but I decide to wait for the official 6am start. Alan addresses the runners, explains some of the logistics, and then tells us how this is a relay, where all our mileage will be submitted as Peter's to allow him to attain Titanium status. A quick countdown, and we're on our way.
<p>
I start the race running, despite the calf. I'm attempting to run this two mile loop fifty times, so maybe things will start to become too familiar, but at least this first loop is brand new to me. The darkness doesn't last long, as the sun peeks over the hills that surround us. The loop surrounds a pasture with cattle who try their best to ignore us, but some come to the barbed wire fence, too curious about the day's rare sight. A thin strip of fog lines the eastern side of the course, and the dawn light paints the view in warm colours, despite the chill in the air. For the first time in a long time, my mind, which has been chaotic and noisy of late, quietens and relaxes.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/K0kWlZlrQxwxVqr8ovu2KpX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-xNIN_nkzl24/UKXbWIbugnI/AAAAAAAAIy4/Jfx9-rUtOMY/s400/DSC09698.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a><p><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/CgJQ92b6moOuzNGC0xcXvJX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7DsDk7xB93c/UKXbZ_husKI/AAAAAAAAIy4/MhiV91ytSE4/s400/DSC09704.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><p>
I can't get my layers right. The course is cold on one side, warm on the other, and after the first lap, the air actually feels colder for awhile. I continue running for around 7 miles when I get a slight tingling in my injured calf, and start walking. As soon as I do, I get thoughts that I should be pushing myself harder, and I start to doubt my plan that I can walk such a significant portion of the course. Luckily, I catch up to Alva, who is mostly walking as well, and we keep each other company.<p>
Alva knows most of the people on the course, and is quick to introduce me to them. Meanwhile, she tells me about her other 100 mile attempts, how well she knows about Asian guilt, and her penchant for ghost stories. After about a dozen miles, I feel like my feet are starting to get restricted by the Vibram Treks, and switch to my Altras, which have seen a bit of walking but no running yet. At one point, Alva needs to seriously eat, and I push ahead without her, and decide to do a little bit of running again.<p><center>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/irjUFFzogEKwgOJKU4UPnpX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-k1evrnDMfP4/UKXbMeNctFI/AAAAAAAAIy4/p50oSlzqp_A/s400/DSC09685.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a><br><i><small>Ed Ettinghausen, "Jester"</small></i></center><p>
Adorned with a jester's cap, and a multicolor kilt, Ed Ettinghausen is hard to miss on any race course. Even as he catches up to me, the soft jingling of bells gives him away before he settles in beside me. His reputation had preceded him. I was curious why his image was chosen as both for the Run de Vous buckle, and the Run d'Amore buckle. But there was no questioning that reasoning when I found that Jester had completed 125 miles during the early start on Thursday and Friday, and was now running another 100 miles. Naturally, I had to search his <a href="http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Ed&lname=Ettinghausen">race results</a> upon learning about this, and was stunned to see that he had also run 100 mile races for the last three consecutive weekends before this one. He seemed to start running ultras about the time I became injured post San Diego 100, so perhaps it's not a surprise I didn't know about this ultra phenomenon. We talk about his last few races, Badwater, my Death Valley Cup fantasy, his ability to recover quickly, and his very first ultra. He had been doing marathons for awhile, and someone told him that he was ready to dive into the ultra scene. Under that guidance, Ed entered the <a href="http://www.oldgoatrunners.com/old_goat_50_home_page_017.htm">Nanny Goat 24 hour race.</a> He told me how his feet became incredibly sore during that race, where every step shot pain signals from his feet directly into his brain. Finally, he stopped and asked his wife, who was crewing for him, to peel off his shoes and socks and assess the damage. He remarked that the strangest expression came across her features, and he said, "Just tell me bad it is." "Ed, your feet are perfectly fine." He thinks he just never had that much time on his feet, and his nerve endings weren't used to it. He made it 104 miles that day.<p>
At the next aid station, he pauses to offer words of encouragement to Danni, so I continue solo once again. After a couple of loops, I catch Alva back at the main station, and my running legs are ready for a break. I tell her we should do a reverse loop, and that I'm taking pictures. She complains that the wind and the hills work against us in the other direction, and I point out that many people who make the switch, often don't turn back around. Why would that be? This loop, known initially as the "photo loop", also gains the nickname of "the confidence building loop." The latter designation comes from my statement being confirmed that not a lot of the runners are actually running anymore, other than notable ultrarunners such as Jean Pommier, Catra Corbett, Rudy Montoya, and Leigh Moser. Alva's confidence translates back into a walk with purpose.
<p>We join Jim Magill for a bit, who hasn't raced since Ohlone. His Scottish brogue and off color humour make him wonderful running companion, if you can keep up with him. Lucky for me, Jim had hurt his ankle, heel, and associated tendons and muscles by one twisting misstep, so he's not his typical speedy self. He remarks about how just one little thing that goes wrong can change everything. He tells me how his wife had sat down for a sandwich outside at her college, and swallowed a wasp that made itself inside of her lunch. She was stung in the throat, and immediately had a reaction. She was rushed to the hospital, and treated. Just as she was about to be discharged, she started acting loopy, and they immediately called for a CAT scan. His wife was having a brain aneurysm. She was rushed to a different hospital, where her scalp was cut open, a piece of her skull removed, and pressure relieved. Unlucky, and lucky at the same time, it's a story that has more gravity at this particular event.
<p>
Meanwhile, my feet are feeling beat up, and I begin to recognize the telltale signs of forefoot blisters. My left knee starts to feel unstable and sore, and I start to worry about the possibility that I'm not going to finish. I start to employ my post-race cane, intra-race. Alva says that our pace is still good, but I start to feel disheartened. Finally, after 46 miles, I decide something has to be done about my feet. As I pull into the aid station, I'm greeted by Danni Baird and Corinne Geraldi (Alan's wife) who make a point of thanking me profusely for bringing the bottle of tequila. Apparently, it has finally been cracked open, and condensed vapors of fermented agave is the post-race/dropped runner, pacer, and aid station volunteer beverage of choice. Perhaps an active runner or two, as well. Alva continues with "Hardrock" Noé Castanon, who has now arrived to pace her for the second half of her race.
<p><center>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/2it-5bDeeQ7bN_BrRYxrw5X400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Q7eqIjaMYnU/UKcKVQa-N_I/AAAAAAAAIzM/wjkAUHJ4vWM/s400/15231_10151242887472867_1601032928_n.jpg" height="268" width="400" /></a><br><i><small>"Tequila" Alan, "Tequila" Corinne, "Tequila" Danni, and "Tequila" Lavy<p></small></i></center><p>
I collapse into a camp chair, peel off of shoes and socks, and find rather large blisters underfoot. I start gather up feet treatments, when Rajeev sees me and asks what's going on. Dr Patel takes one look at my feet, and fetches a foot kit. He begins piercing the blisters to drain them, while a small audience gathers around me, including Diane "Run Forrest Run" to watch. Nurse Danni fetches me a shot of tequila to serve as battlefield anesthesia. Rajeev needs to pierce my blisters in several places to really drain them, and I momentarily award him the nickname "Little prick."<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Rogj-CH_WvP48V3h7Lnj3JX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mqqlw0TLNkc/UKcKURZ2SOI/AAAAAAAAIzE/46UojXDnt6o/s400/665882_10151241368032867_541494858_o.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></center><p>
Rajeev only operates on one foot, as the other hasn't quite softened up enough to be pierceable. I head back onto the course, warmed by tequila, and my right foot feels weird as skin moves beneath my feet. Suddenly, on the left foot, I feel a sudden tingling pain on the blisters that makes me stagger. I mean, I fully expected this to happen, but I thought it would be at mile 75 or something later in the race. Even mile 60 seems like a tolerable though, but I suppose since I haven't even reached the halfway mark, my mind is working against me. Some of Chef Alan's incredible camp stove mushroom risotto, and slices of pizza aren't enough to turn around my race outlook. I try my best to rouse my spirit with visions of receiving that coveted buckle, retiring my SD100 from my belt and mounting it on a plaque, but the scales have tipped in the wrong direction.<p>
I pull back into the aid station, and state my decision to drop. The reaction is violent. "Razor Wielding Rajeev" and "Axe Wielding Alan" immediately declare that they will kill me by tying me to a car and dragging me around the course until my last living breath leaves my body to ensure that I get the remaining two miles to get a mileage count of 50 miles. I simply don't need another 50 mile finish, I try to say. Rajeev sees that I'm in pretty rough shape, and has me sit in his car with my feet up, and covers me with a blanket like a baby. I rest, shivering, and almost feel like I'm going to go into shock from the cold and inaction. I do doze off, and when I wake, my left leg has seized. Ugh. I crawl out of the car, seeking warmth in my sub-zero sleeping bag, and again tell Alan that I'm stopping. He again says that I should at least drag myself out onto the course for one more loop, and I finally agree.<p>
This time, I enable my GPS app to check my pace. I call up my wife because I'm feeling low, and she says it's ok if I drop, and did I really expect anything different given my injuries and lack of training? Upon returning to the aid station, I treat myself to a beer, try to help out around the aid station before finally retiring to the tent and my sleeping bag.<p>
I sleep on my side, and the ground is hard on my ITB so I wake up frequently. I try to sleep on my back, but that exposes my face to the frigid night air. I hear cheers of encouragement outside of the tent, and at one point, Alva almost steps on my head. I hear Jean Pommier finish in 14:55:15, and later in the night Stacey Costa, the female winner. Some time later, Franco Soriano shyly joins me in the tent, but luckily not my sleeping bag since I just met him. I find out later, that he just went sub 24 in his 100 mile race.
<p><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/CsFiwN3HG0pnGfThlKTRuJX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PxWpvJ047VM/UKXcHVlSm7I/AAAAAAAAIy4/sJIkS1nJi4M/s400/DSC09759.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a><br>
<small><i>"Strange Bedfellows" Franco. I could do worse</i></small></center>
<p>
My mind tells my body to not wake up until it is warm enough. That turns out to be eight o clock! I stumble out of my tent, and find Alan still hard at work, a little bleary eyed with only 10 minutes of sleep. I help by picking up garbage, and lap marking which proves to be a difficult task, as the whiteboard has iced over and needs to be scraped and wiped for markers to find purchase on the surface. The low for the night was 27 degrees. I get to watch Kermit Cuff win the 125 mile race. After awhile, I start to think that I'm feeling pretty good, and hey, I don't have a 100k finish yet, I might as well go out for 12 miles. I pass lap marking back to Evan "the Son of Jester" who had only taken a short break, and strap on my shoes, declare my intention to Alan, and head back out in the opposite direction.<p>
Alva sees me and asks what I'm doing, and I tell her that I feel pretty good, so I'm going for the 100k. When I return to the aid station, she's still there, so I join her and Noe for a couple of laps. Noé and I get a chance to really talk, and I finally learn how to pronounce his name, and not come up with a theoretical pronunciation of it. I won't tell how to do it, if you don't already know, you'll have to learn from him himself. Noé wanders the course, dressed as a runner, but wearing a cardboard crown, garbage bag in his hand, as he sweeps the course, almost literally.
<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/gD6WD48Ep-k4NYsH9oq3yJX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6o8hMV202x8/UKhZQO66Y0I/AAAAAAAAI0Y/1w6Muh1i3A8/s400/IMG_2336.JPG" height="299" width="400" /></a><br>
<i><small>Anu, Rajeev, Alva, Noé, and "Thumbprint" Baldwyn</i></small></center><p>
I change into a pair of Hokas, while Alva also does a shoe change, and I'm amazed how little I feel the underfoot blisters. I continue without Alva and Noe, but tell her that I'll be out on the course as long as she is, and after awhile, I try running and even that feels ok. I start running pretty speedily in fact, and I'm a little embarrassed to be lapping those poor runners who don't have the benefit of many hours of sleep like I do.<p>
I breeze through the 12 mile mark that gives me a 100k distance for the race. Thirty hours have passed. That's 6 more hours to finish 38 miles. Rajeev quietly remarks to me that they have a permit until 7pm, and if I complete my second last lap by 6, I'll be allowed to continue on. It almost seems doable, and I decide, with the encouragement of all, to go for it.<p>
After another 10 miles, fatigue starts to set in into my legs again, and I start to walk again. But that gives me the opportunity to walk with Jose on is final lap. He is moving well after 98 miles, even if running it isn't really in the cards. I tell him that he should just start running at the quarter mile mark. He's in great spirits though, and we're joined briefly by Catra who is being paced by her trusty pup, Truman. She tells us how she fostered Truman after he had been rescued by a woman who had hoarded dogs, and then adopted him. Truman has needed a lot of socialization, and this day he's just a sweetheart; her hard work is paying off. The time comes for Jose to run in the finish, and we do so amidst cheers by all at the finish line, including Jester, who has been resting comfortably in his camp chair, but cheering everyone on as they come through the aid station.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/A97wx2jUM6S56IbInkmdOJX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-zbCXfeM37GU/UKhZRfUuJKI/AAAAAAAAI0w/rCptM5Wma4k/s400/IMG_2339.JPG" height="400" width="299" /></a></br><i><small>"Dirt Diva" Catra and "Trusty" Truman</small></i></center><p>
<p>On my marathon lap, I come across Alva and Noé at a park bench, with one of the Red Cross volunteers checking her out. She's ok, medically, had a twenty minute nap, but her feet are beat up, and her spirits are low. She has ten miles to go. I recognize the way she's walking. Noé is stressed about the time, and we're at a loss of what to do to keep her going at the pace needed to finish. Alva looks at my moon shod feet, and begins to wonder if my Hokas can help her the way they helped me. I'm a size 11, and she's a 7 or an 8, and it's probably not going to work, although too big is much better than too small. And then I remember that Noé had been collecting donations from runners to take to Mexico and give to underprivileged communities, and talking about ultrarunning and how much it means to his life. "Noé! Do you have a pair of Hokas in your car that may have been donated, perhaps by Catra?" Noé pauses, his mind mulling that thought over before he says, "JYES!" "Go, run to your car, dig them out! I've got Alva!" I've already calculated that I won't be able to sustain a fast enough pace to make the cutoff; I have 22 more miles to run in 3 hours, my effort is better spent making sure this friend of Peter's, with a 100 mile monkey on her back, makes her way to victory.
<p>
By the time we get to the aid station, Noé is ready with a pair of shoes that has seen many 100 finishes. There is a flurry of activity around "Cinderella" Alva as magic slippers are put on, food is given, and bottles filled. Jester joins us in his Crocs, and his post 100 mile, slightly rested but not really limp, to help Alva through.<p>
Alva's pace is much improved, and Noé entertains us with how he trained for Hardrock. Even by his own reckoning, Noé is not the fastest runners. These days, he has to qualify for Western States by completing 100 mile runs, since the sub-11 fifty mile requirement can be difficult a difficult task for him (he talks in amazement about my 9:41 American River 50M, and then 8:39 Ruth Anderson 50M two weeks later; I just say, "Well, look at me now!"). And yet, he was able to finish perhaps the hardest hundred mile run in the US. His secret? He did his homework! He trained hard, he trained at night, he trained at altitude when he could, and he trained on the course. He tells us about one harrowing excursion where he took a wrong turn on the course, and found himself at the side of a cliff, where his footfall would scatter pebbles down the mountain side, and you would hear them falling until they were no longer audible, not because they reached bottom. He took many photos of what he thought would be his final resting place, but discovered a route back to safety.
<p>
I admire Noé's work ethic, even when it comes to play, and think about how I'm often just doing enough to get by. I'm having a strange, confusing moment where it becomes apparent I could have finished the 100 miles in the allotted time with a little bit of planning. Continuing the night before may have still resulted in a painful DNF given the shape I was in, but I certainly didn't have to sleep as long as I did, and could have started running again. There's always something to learn on every race. Now I know not to give up when I have plenty of time to turn things around.
<p>
The air begins to cool, quickly, and Alva says that her little toe feels like it's going to fall off. I'm thinking I have two little toes that about to fall off, but it's a pain that doesn't impede progress. I tell her that we can cut the sides open on her shoes, but when we get to the aid station, we do some quick math and decide her pace is solid, we're going to push on. Jester and Noé make incredible pacers. Noé pushes Alva to eat and drink, and Jester's natural sense of pace, and timing is one of precision. I suggest she tries the trekking poles Noé's been using, knowing how having something to offload the feet helps, and she does, her pace increasing so much that I'm having trouble keeping up.
<p>
Halfway through her penultimate loop, Noé is talking to Jester; Alva and I are walking in silence. I turn to Alva and tell her, "I'm so proud of you. You're going to make it." She laughs joyfully, and thanks me, full of pride herself because she knows it's true. We make it to the cutoff with just under 5 minutes to spare. The last loop is windy, cold and dark, but Alva doesn't ease up on up pace. She's getting this done. For Petey. And best of all, for herself. I'm barely holding back tears as we start hearing Jose, Alan, Rajeev, Corinne, and Evan cheering, and approach the headlights that are all that remains of the finish line. One hundred miles done. She hugs Jester, and whispers to him something about Petey, that has him crying too. He rubs her back, and says, "Hey Alva! Guess what! The monkey is gone."
<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/uF1aSKxSBF_iNireYZ1gHJX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-4TIQpVTFs98/UKkEttwqdVI/AAAAAAAAI2o/pjYJ0DY9ovU/s400/374033_4791641998781_1513156237_n.jpg" height="268" width="400" /></a><br><i><small>Picture courtesy Alan Geraldi</i></small></center><p>
What an event. I'm disappointed in myself for not pushing harder, and going for my own 100 mile finish, but I am glad for my small part in Alva's. Her finish is a moment that crystallized the race; a love of running, of running with friends, and remembering Pete. On the other hand, I'm feeling rather empowered given my lack of recent running and injuries, for doing two ultramarathons in a weekend. My legs feel stronger post race, than they did pre race, and I'm confident I can start running again for real. Maybe even toss my name into the Western States Gu bucket next week, something I wasn't sure I would do without the race.
<p>A race like this really makes me appreciate the beauty of a loop course. Ninety some souls sharing the same two mile strip carries with it a huge sense of community, grants the time to swap many stories and words of advice, and to provide inspiration. The are so many stories to tell, like about Sofie Romero, who was out there with broken toes and a knee walker, but still finished 50k, ex Marine Giovanni Guevarra carrying the American flag and Marine Corp flag during his last lap to honor Rememberence Day and Marine Corp's birthday. There's so much more, but you'll have to have to come out next year to hear and see them.
<p><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/07kdP6nIuVFG3e8_Z1HuGZX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OBU_MPL8H-g/UKXcRkSapwI/AAAAAAAAIy4/ATg3Yanxmf4/s400/DSC09768.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a><br><i><small>"Castaway" Sofie Romero</i></small></center><p>
<p>I am thankful to Alan for his hard work, his desire to please and take care of each and every runner, and to go beyond expectations. And to Rajeev for his work on the race, and the spirit he brings with him everywhere he goes, and handling my feet without batting an eye and trying his best to take care of me when things were low. You guys truly put on a race of love.
<p><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/51pjewwABMDC-nh_suB-vpX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Vh8CEsJ4-YQ/UKZaLXBII1I/AAAAAAAAIy4/-a0wEF2d26M/s400/DSC09801.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><p>
PS. When I got home, I peeled off my shoes and socks, and the strangest expression crossed my face when I saw this:<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/v7i9_FTBxbng_aiX3CbPKpX400INwJujE2PnRMjv2NM?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D7I5rJv-91E/UKhZV8Uz9yI/AAAAAAAAI14/oadnFgfxYcs/s400/IMG_2353.JPG" height="400" width="299" /></a></center><p>
<b>Links</b><p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/112693005438248937894/2012RunDAmore?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIDY_vWi4bT9Dw&feat=directlink">My Race Photo Album</a><p>
<a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-run-damore-self-portraits.html">The Run d'Amore Self Portrait Project</a><p>
Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-73000465195728962172012-11-13T00:03:00.001-08:002012-11-13T00:15:38.216-08:00The Run D'Amore Self PortraitsOk, this was supposed to be one picture every 2 miles up to 100 miles, but I initially stopped running at 50 miles because my knee was feeling unstable, and underfoot blisters made each step painful enough that I thought I couldn't continue another 50 miles at a pace to finish in time. So this is mile 0-50. Race report to follow! <p>
<center><i><small><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5mzdypyNRbzvgcaDYwudNtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R_YZngB4YL0/UKH3kWwWV7I/AAAAAAAAIVI/FKQXU6c_YjA/s400/DSC09688.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 0 - 11/10/2012 5:57am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/i8R3VBq2DEz9uHHJ4z8Ws9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DpDIalfwAMg/UKH3mv3Dd1I/AAAAAAAAIVQ/C1CIKWu3fYA/s400/DSC09706.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 2 - 11/10/2012 6:25am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WWJh32ZQIcXFC7O8zYsjYNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-7IqSnxZjSwI/UKH3oDtDg5I/AAAAAAAAIVY/xTWikpKvB3c/s400/DSC09707.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 4 - 11/10/2012 6:48am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Tmu-TnX81VZ-paMOqXwCytMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-McBVLohoh_w/UKH3qUsVVHI/AAAAAAAAIVg/iUBzKVeyBaQ/s400/DSC09708.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 6 - 11/10/2012 7:16am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/sJXvef_wnq3U3f769-6c9NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-5DTyWKXrmNU/UKH3tcAR-yI/AAAAAAAAIVo/MFaxdGjnsow/s400/DSC09709.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 8 - 11/10/2012 7:45am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Z9kraKwS_fchYi1a6RKlKNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-T517FX1EIc8/UKH3xyrB2rI/AAAAAAAAIV0/WoZl_ZKI5RE/s400/DSC09711.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 10 - 11/10/2012 8:15am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/I-a2yq6cLyacG_g0XkbPBtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-rPdlorGd654/UKH30lhJ_6I/AAAAAAAAIV8/9q0jHpGomnM/s400/DSC09712.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 12 - 11/10/2012 8:44am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/45S8ih4D2KKccqerkr02GtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-YRvfpHjYlRM/UKH34ZRPG2I/AAAAAAAAIWM/qlmlIrEqE5s/s400/DSC09719.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 14 - 11/10/2012 9:18am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dz_WbQddEUl38uFqiPfdC9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gt0J_MAxvn8/UKH378nAZDI/AAAAAAAAIWU/bcy04S508eA/s400/DSC09720.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 16 - 11/10/2012 9:52am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9DsbGW5jaSG-s8EAZkJ8l9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-bKIIWt6kSNg/UKH3-qiD2jI/AAAAAAAAIWc/Ocy-k_Zka90/s400/DSC09721.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 18 - 11/10/2012 10:17am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/y6x9qrrNDLizo1DCYu5Sg9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gTDVM5tlXec/UKH4CWUSKpI/AAAAAAAAIWo/lt0Axo5eD5U/s400/DSC09743.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 20 - 11/10/2012 10:41am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KyGOsqcbXM8h5fKkX64SuNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-4FbE3Sa5PBc/UKH4Gn6StBI/AAAAAAAAIWw/OveDD6lP7V0/s400/DSC09744.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 22 - 11/10/2012 11:18am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0kRaaiaOIxAv_A1nK5MKJNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6CP452AypE4/UKH4Kv_jcBI/AAAAAAAAIW4/vLz5T0HLU6A/s400/DSC09746.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 24 - 11/10/2012 11:53am<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_9CEif08K5PBRWiSv83uvdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MSlFO0hHip0/UKH4NRmyKTI/AAAAAAAAIXA/g1tWgNNf0kU/s400/DSC09749.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 26 - 11/10/2012 12:27pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WzPN0N0wJDB0W-U4iXOkVNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0gOuTCQmsYo/UKH4Q9ceC3I/AAAAAAAAIXQ/y1un2AVpXog/s400/DSC09750.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 28 - 11/10/2012 1:06pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Gf64qjyQEShaI7joQQ1rFNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-0d_HKwZGAQk/UKH4VjiC9QI/AAAAAAAAIXY/k7strnzLjxs/s400/DSC09835.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 30 - 11/10/2012 1:44pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WuSfCXW_FtEUnCMGvYQEC9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tfsEEQlOH94/UKH4Z4nCyYI/AAAAAAAAIXk/4HCvcye-Akk/s400/DSC09836.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 32 - 11/10/2012 1:48pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6Snhq__zz0KyK0T-DUG3o9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-9FeaOtqv1c0/UKH4eXvLuoI/AAAAAAAAIXs/8wMPCRi48lc/s400/DSC09837.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 34 - 11/10/2012 2:31pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/atZpAXWv_-efdz0ufv6KSdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Y6Yd9LzuhGM/UKH4hyMBS5I/AAAAAAAAIX0/thKmwM7mzsI/s400/DSC09838.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 36 - 11/10/2012 3:45pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jGQ_fW_O1L5tzdlzUSROddMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ouQREJP4akQ/UKH4l3eEdUI/AAAAAAAAIYA/sezgzLkzl-8/s400/DSC09839.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 38 - 11/10/2012 4:25pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1D8h64JO6z2touNYLJVcp9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_poQ1wUeY7U/UKH4pH5HZaI/AAAAAAAAIYI/S0fJO8Z1jw4/s400/DSC09841.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 40 - 11/10/2012 5:03pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/DxNnFNMBJtVKX5pnxELwOtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-5JcrG3B96ek/UKH4rywlFuI/AAAAAAAAIYQ/jq3hx-kWHFg/s400/DSC09842.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 42 - 11/10/2012 5:52pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/2kaeaGJvEq7_20fbSQOprtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GH7mk32G9YU/UKH4wMcVK_I/AAAAAAAAIYc/SHVSfekU8E0/s400/DSC09843.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 44 - 11/10/2012 6:34pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0co9jpOQPYsfAXGbQJmWVNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BDKevNHrTE4/UKH4zhH7WEI/AAAAAAAAIYk/jv1KpteNjbQ/s400/DSC09844.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 46 - 11/10/2012 7:32pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SWEm2_R1lVZLzguuldWaHtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-KvMR8AsxjCg/UKH421vDMdI/AAAAAAAAIYs/tOB9VYBqWZ8/s400/DSC09846.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 48 - 11/10/2012 9:46pm<p>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/32hiZiTCN98TwpaxTz4S59MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-CRnX1NbBYTE/UKH467eMa7I/AAAAAAAAIY0/9L97kpDzGLQ/s400/DSC09848.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
<br>Mile 50 - 11/10/2012 10:41pm<p>
</center></i></small>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-27237770708588618352012-11-09T18:07:00.002-08:002012-11-09T18:07:51.658-08:00It's Starting to Sink InOk, so I'm mostly packed, and I've actually realized that I really am serious about toeing the line to Run D'Amore 100M tomorrow morning; not just playing a practical joke on my knees. I've been so casual about the whole thing, maybe even not talking about it too much, fooling myself with that deceptive math, trying to stay relaxed with no time expectation (I just caught myself considering going sub 29; but it's not going to happen).
It's a 100 damn miles that I started training for about 4 weeks ago, with 4 runs that culminated with an 8 mile long run. I only have one 100 under my belt (one buckle on my belt) so I'm no veteran. My calf will be staying together with lotions, compression sleeves, and Rock tape.
On the other hand, the buzz on the accompanying Facebook group is one of excitement and panic, and it's contagious. I'm looking forward to meeting new runners, running with old friends, and sharing that short 2 mile strip that forms our loop. I bet there will be a 100 stories shared, and maybe that will be enough to cross that finish line. For the 50th time.
Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-64891972953158891512012-10-30T11:24:00.001-07:002012-10-31T14:49:27.109-07:00It's Not the Race That's Crazy"Are you still doing that crazy race in 2 weeks?" my wife asked, not completely hiding her disgust.
<p>
"It's not the race that's crazy. But yeah."
<p>
"And how's your running? What's the longest run you've done in say...3 months?"
<p>
"I did eight miles today."
<p>
"Wow, only 92 to go, huh?"
<p>
"I don't like to think of it that way. I like to think I could have easily run for 2 more miles, and then only have to do it 9 more times. That sounds much easier than 92 miles to go. Or...hey, how about only 34 hours and 40 minutes to go?"
<p>
"It's a 2 mile loop course, right?"
<p>
"Yeah."
<p>
I felt like I was on a roll. In April; two 50 mile runs, including a huge PR. In fact, during the second 50, I PRed the 50k distance too. And in March, I PRed in the marathon! And finally, during my first leg in The Relay, a moderately hilly 6.9 mile stretch, my pace was faster than my 10k race PR that was set in 1999. Naturally, my plans for the rest of the year included PRing in the 100 mile, the half marathon, 5k, and making an official 10k PR.<p>
And then one day, my calf started hurting at the end of a 7 mile, easy going commute run. And the next day, I pulled my hamstring. I rested as much as I could, with TRT100 as a target in July, but had to try to get a couple of runs to see if the injuries were still present a couple of weeks before. Both the calf and hamstring went out.
<p>
The 100 became a moving target. I was still considering Rio Del Lago, but I couldn't run more than 2 miles without the calf pain showing up. And the pain was debilitating! It would take 2-3 days after a run for me to even walk without significant pain. Finally, I let the idea of RDL go, and started becoming deeply worried that I might not feel comfortable even entering the Western States lottery in December.<p>
I took 7 weeks off, during which I embraced cycling, which didn't aggravate either injury. October 3rd was my first run back, and again, 3 miles in the calf felt sore, and even though I stopped running at the first hint of it, I was limping just walking for two more days.<p>
Shortly after, I read on Facebook about a race that Alan Geraldi and Rajeev Patel were starting up: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RundAmoreUltramarathons?ref=ts&fref=ts">Run D'Amore.</a> 100 miles on a 2 mile dirt loop. Around $1 a mile, Alan promised, and he HAD BUCKLES. And finally, this race was in honour of Peter Mingwah, had died on September 22, of a brain aneurysm. I never got a chance to meet the guy, only hear about him, and see him in pictures. But what pictures! The guy had a ubiquitous, contagious smile. He was two years younger than me, and leaves behind a family. Hits close to home.<p>
So, I don't know. A new race, directed by two friends, inexpensive, logistically simple, with the spirit to simply embrace the love of running? How could I miss out this?<p>
Only problem was, I couldn't run. If that calf pops, I have difficulty even walking. Alan pointed out to me that the cutoff was 36 hours. So 21.6 minutes per mile. Easy, right? That's not even a brisk walk.<p>
During the 19th century, there was a sport called "pedestrianism." Aristocrats used to have footmen who would walk ahead of their carriages to deliver messages. It was only a matter of time, before the aristocrats pitted there footmen against each other. One goal for these sportsmen was actually to walk 100 miles in less than 24 hours, which would earn them the name "Centurians."<p>
So I'm going in expecting walk more than I run. This doesn't actually conform to the "heel-to-toe" rule of pedestrianism (although they had a category known as "as you please" that allowed running), but what I'm going to do is more pedestrianism than ultrarunning. I doubt I'll come out a Centurian, not even sure I'm finishing, but I'll be out there embracing a love of running. And Petey.
Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-7325494078872099052012-10-08T16:01:00.000-07:002012-10-08T16:01:32.869-07:00The Birth of AURA and How I Came to Have Too Many DogsThe founding spirit of AURA seems to revolve around running on trails at your own pace, enjoying the fruits (or ice cream) of calorie burning, and dogs. The fact that we were all Asian (not required for membership) was purely coincidental. But that didn't stop me from creating a cool sounding acronym with shades of some splinter, underground, ultra-running society. One that might involve ninjitsu. Or whip-cracking. Or child endangerment.
<p>
Still, it took the momentous event of someone (Miki) to suggest breaking out of the usual Sunday morning excursion with dogs for a "night training run" on June 9th (2012), to formally name this informal band of runners. <b>Asian Ultra Runners of America.</b>
<p>
A night training run suited me very well. I had been casually thinking about changing my TRT50M entry to TRT100M, and a night run would be great training run. I have neither the talent nor the training base to be casually considering a 100 mile race, but I do my ultra-running on credit. Run now, pay later. Night running is a lot like that. Doesn't take time out of your day...until the next morning. Miki had no previous experience with night running, but was facing pacing duties for Flora at Western States, so felt like she should get one run in to see what she was getting herself into.
<p>
Miki picked out the venue for the run: <a href="http://coepark.net/">Henry Coe State Park.</a> I had never been to the park before, and indeed may have missed out on the opportunity forever if it had not recently be saved from closure. Henry Coe is a drive for many of us, but the park is open 24 hours, all year round! The last time I remember a bunch of local ultra-runners had planned a night run, it involved hill repeats up Mission Peak; and the ranger was there threatening to give out trespassing tickets. AURA likes to live within the law. This "clean-living" attitude also meant we were doing this run without our usual canine counterparts (most of us have trail-loving pups), since Henry Coe park does not allow dogs on the trail. Miki also picked out our route; the first night training run of Asian Ultra Runners of America would take us to a place called China Hole.
<p>
The drive into the park is long and twisty, and Marissa was driving Theresa's Accord like it was a sports car. The road took us higher and higher, until finally we reached the park headquarters with a gorgeous view of Morgan Hill at dusk. It was clear there was no where to go but down. And that implied an uphill finish.
<p>
We numbered seven. Miki, Marissa, Theresa, Todd, Peter, Orie and myself gathered in the parking lot as darkness set in before we even ran a step. The night air was balmy, with just a hint of a breeze.
<p>
We ran together down Corral trail, that took us downhill. The terrain was not too challenging, and I decided to see what it would be like to run "fast" in darkness, along Springs trail. The grass was extremely tall, perhaps elbow high, and the trail actually pretty narrow. Running fast with little visibility was cool, but also resulted in the inevitable fall. Stickers all over my shirt, but no damage. But the side of the trail transitioned to a steep dropoff to who knows where, it's dark, so uh...maybe not go that fast. I waited for the rest of the group at the next intersection, and we ran together, passing through the Manzanita Point campground, and then along Madrone Soda Springs trail, and unto Canyon Mile Trail.
<p>
Todd stuck with me, as we led the others. We passed the time talking about art, movies, and of course running. At one point we spotted a fox which was the first one I've ever spotted in the wild. And then, a baby skunk who stubbornly stuck to the trail. We followed it for perhaps half a mile, at a safe distance, before it finally pulled off into the bushes. The terrain was challenging, with loose leaves, rocks, roots, and tons of stream crossings. The China Hole hike has a reputation for being a "butt-kicker", and didn't really disappoint. Todd said he was probably going faster following me in the dark than by himself in the daytime, mostly because he couldn't see any of the dangerous spots, if they indeed existed.
<p>
At one point, we tried to follow the trail, and ended up climbing an extremely steep hill. Like impossibly steep. It still looked like a trail, but perhaps one made by agile deer. We waited for the others and debated on the legitimacy of the route. I made one more attempt to investigate the viability, but it was much too steep for a mere hiking trail. We turned back, and found the actual trail across the creek.
<p>
From there, the group stuck together. It's more fun to get lost with company, anyways. We were far away from the light noise of civilization and enjoying the constellations. We passed by a campsite far from any road, and the campers asked what we were doing. The answer "running!" was perhaps strange.
<p>
We reached China Hole, that turned out to be a shallow pond with large round boulders that appeared to be islands throughout. The place was full of frogs that seemed unconcerned by our presence. It was very scenic, even in the darkness, although the stars did their best to light our way. After a short rest to soak up the surroundings, we headed back up.
<p>
Our return route was along China Hole trail, which had some seemed a little less technical, but it climbed and climbed up and up. The summit rewarded us with the best view of the milky way yet, that evening.
We stuck together for the return trip, and reached the parking lot after midnight. Miki was not imbued with a new sense of confidence for her pacing duty at Western States in a few weeks. I didn't say anything, but something was not feeling right in my legs. Not injured, but they shouldn't feel so fatigued.
<p>
We said goodbye in the parking lot, wished each other the best for our next adventures, and I left with Theresa and Marissa. We wound our way out the park, and just as we left the gates, spotted something moving by the side of the road. I thought I spotted a dachshund; Theresa thought it was much larger. Behind us, Miki and Todd pulled over, and we circled back.
<p>
Miki came over, to tell us they were chihauhaus, collarless of course. They had hopped into Miki's car into Todd's arms as soon as the door opened. A skunk got 'em. Miki said her dog would eat them, and asked if I could take them home. Of course I could. Just as we were getting back into the cars, we spotted a third. That one took off running as soon as we approached it to be lost in the underbrush. I was relieved, as much as I would have liked to have seen that dog get rescued. For some reason, bringing home three dogs seemed twice as bad as bring home two.
<p>
Marissa was a real trooper. She sat the entire way home (maybe an hour and a half drive) with these skunked dogs.
<p>
It was after 2 o clock in the morning when I woke my wife up from a deep slumber, standing next to the bed with an armful of dirty, stinky dogs. They were not happy about being thrown into the shower, and black water drained off of their fur. Several cycles of shampoo, rinse and repeat occurred before they were clean enough.
<p>
They wolfed down their food, like they were starving, although they weren't exactly emaciated. One of the dogs is quite a bit larger than the first and we had hypothesized that they were mother and pup. The larger dog let the smaller one eat first which bolstered that theory. I locked them in the downstairs bathroom for the night.
<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/liSJlv33lqBVPMi3zHCR3_fGnN6v_LfaNCoiNesEfzU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ezPKvxgio3o/UHNXn2QwjGI/AAAAAAAAHoE/OvWsID03bFU/s400/chis.jpg" height="299" width="400" /></a><small><i><br>The pups, the morning after</i></small></center><p>
The kids were excited to see new puppies, but these are not low maintenance dogs. The next few days revealed some information about them:
<p><ul>
The larger dog is male, and the smaller is female<br>
They are not housebroken. At all.<br>
The vet believes that they are litter mates, and estimates their age to be 2 years old.<br>
They are the type of chihauhaus that bark and yelp a lot.<br>
No one on Craigslist will own up to owning them.
</ul><p>
We can't quite figure out a scenario that explains their presence in the woods. They are too healthy and well fed to have been foraging in the wilderness for two years. And yet they are too under trained to have been living in someone's home all this time. Of course, we will never know.
<p>
My daughter Kayley named the boy "Ares" and the girl "Persephone." These dogs are a real project so far. Four months later, we're still fighting the housebreaking battle. They bark at strangers, and Persephone is particularly interested at barking are asserting her dominance over other dogs. They are unruly on walks, unless I split them up. But they are eager to please, and Ares is a loyal pup; both to his "sister" and certainly to me. And he loves to run.
<p>
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/j0dkjagJ79vy2DCCxSOyaPfGnN6v_LfaNCoiNesEfzU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9_qeqC8mXF8/UHNXqLb9DdI/AAAAAAAAHoM/H6qYB24nrpY/s400/walking_dogs.jpg" height="400" width="299" /></a></center><p>
<iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/187856371'></iframe>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-7337848102066625092012-10-06T23:01:00.000-07:002012-10-07T13:18:33.140-07:00The 2012 fearSmart Relay Awards!Today we had a small awards ceremony and celebration to bring our Audience Relay team back together to catch up after almost half year since being stuck together for 2 days in an inevitably smelly van.
<p>
Adam Abed ran his night leg without glasses and couldn't read the signs to keep on course.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/LZ-NQjIemAZJUHl6DJ93WtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-WrGo_kumFyc/UG_B0-hRl5I/AAAAAAAAHi4/Fb9QbCqUqv8/s400/DSC08793.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Vtazpf-6PzzU3hWPmhYe2tMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZOCTt4QyovM/UG_CI5ExPEI/AAAAAAAAHlk/HNP3CNsEYIU/s400/DSC08819.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Fred Raynal's epic run through the Napa country side in the blaring heat inspired his award.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_3f6BxuqQwfvor0ntOEbx9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-66D0wsgrdfQ/UG_B2WKTM3I/AAAAAAAAHi8/NHV0NghZboQ/s400/DSC08795.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Van Le was cheerful and happy through the whole experience; uphill or downhill, night or day.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1zq8dkI9O1RHjYZQLnrlntMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fFOPosZoB0o/UG_B24fY7hI/AAAAAAAAHjE/wzaC8EPp4qw/s400/DSC08796.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Qv7EeNlzsMbi3mNVTqJs-dMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-di_moxv1M8I/UG_CBzdcC1I/AAAAAAAAHlI/lT-jTkGp9UY/s400/DSC08814.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
(note the above three guys gave me their medals so I could install them into the plaques ahead of time; the other plaques are still awaiting their bling)
<p>
Ken Tang knew every little gem of a restaurant in Napa Valley and beyond. He doesn't always eat pizza but when he does, he prefers his burnt.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/cvoXehkpoVHEVsLEuhpF5NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SG1M04m8GGs/UG_B47J0uOI/AAAAAAAAHjU/8pIXisVeQeE/s400/DSC08798.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ne-dCnmR6XH6VJ_tvLYyXdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QheAN31lE2Y/UG_CCbQzv1I/AAAAAAAAHlM/-OVRPXEN5aE/s400/DSC08816.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Sarah Tartibi had a little apprehension going into her night run. After having a bit of trouble with the heat on her first leg, her second leg was supposed to be one of the toughest with hills that did not quit. Turns out, her night leg was her favorite! (One side note, I ran out of oak, and dipped into my stash of Peruvian walnut for two of the awards).
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/gQLbdFohc4sRU7KlpOVY_NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8PGqZ9f-dHM/UG_B6Ge16_I/AAAAAAAAHjk/7iJwJWqPIjk/s400/DSC08800.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/HHr7_UaDyhQ989bgvT0sGdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-CyAH87WFPww/UG_CLGANtcI/AAAAAAAAHmE/JXcqogxYlVk/s400/DSC08824.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Clarissa Swihart remembered everything I forgot. She showed up to the parking lot with bagels, and kept her van running smoothly throughout. Apparently, she was voted for this same award in high school.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Z2bWU9uXUzchQd4A84hyT9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-D8aPyA3mtP0/UG_B6mWbfoI/AAAAAAAAHjs/CYMnX5TcjYw/s400/DSC08801.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ltmh7WRK6zEQ5k5QjO4nnNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-M5YCZE8p09k/UG_CMGLnD7I/AAAAAAAAHmQ/955dtOq-Q28/s400/DSC08825.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></CENTER>
<p>
Francis Tiong told me the week leading up to the Relay that he had forgotten that Saturday was his wedding anniversary.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/b4E60si2TYBCLhdHg4pFkNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y7E4OyxJ3Mw/UG_B6_QAQXI/AAAAAAAAHj0/xOPUSzMEK-g/s400/DSC08802.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/lM35-oxIWxK7FGLXmPYZ4NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2yBxvqy3-nc/UG_CJU5YeeI/AAAAAAAAHls/rnVoSAEjHiY/s400/DSC08821.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Ram Sridharan was an extremely supportive and helpful team member.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FFz0_nIgyphTmoxNbI6E89MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-SdkHLsCitn8/UG_B7sC02GI/AAAAAAAAHj8/4sD7hQKrU3A/s400/DSC08803.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/eXF-t7zsazbzzAtdD6X3_NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XLK3PBR_62U/UG_CDHsbdVI/AAAAAAAAHlU/JNlLthjF2nA/s400/DSC08817.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Robert Metchev had to deal with absolute horrendous wind for the last couple of miles of the entire course. He soldiered through to bring us home to victory.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/d6lpD8Khx-lF5ShBGXgX8tMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yvwDZuc3rUE/UG_B8fg6XMI/AAAAAAAAHkI/UtTzRzA32fA/s400/DSC08804.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ch18Q5n0ZQuKCXsrdpcxqdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TXNdLen3fIg/UG_CAjwZdNI/AAAAAAAAHk0/f77L6PfnDNQ/s400/DSC08812.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Ok, so these are all hand-made awards, and it's been a long time since I've started up the old router. It took me awhile to remember things like proper approach to the bit, and direction of feed. This resulted in one plaque that was smaller than the others. This worked out because Matt Ward had run less than the other runners. A calf injury prevented him from completing his second and third legs.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dmIcPZkWoy1m9jlSJZ1RGtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-mJDu1af9-fc/UG_B5eJc0cI/AAAAAAAAHjc/oRBUcyY8g-g/s400/DSC08799.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/hW1d5j5cFO1arjPwc1TOctMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-BBOkvNtfqrI/UG_CMjVQA6I/AAAAAAAAHmY/I37y4ovsVOg/s400/DSC08826.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Kartik Raju began running after being inspired by our 2011 running of the Relay began running, and trained hard for our 2012 event. He has since gone on to become a serial half-marathoner!
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/N0moUd9DNcTxOARJy37C5tMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Cpm_FY6Lci0/UG_B3ZV7HfI/AAAAAAAAHjM/qodOXrw0GZg/s400/DSC08797.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0tkLwul-F8J2KbulMsRh2tMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-PDmh3TZwaoE/UG_CBMT0CGI/AAAAAAAAHk8/VmcVVDp_O7A/s400/DSC08813.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> </center>
<p>
Christa Ferguson signed up as a volunteer, hoping to catch the spirit of enthusiastic runners, but instead was sequestered into a wooden shack surrounded by radios.
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mvJgdFc4cVxLHBw1rkQSt9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-VDT8DILCvZU/UG_B9f4EzUI/AAAAAAAAHkY/Y1NtQVpkbuE/s288/DSC08806.JPG" height="191" width="288" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jfUmVHwznnTbNXgMN0a_d9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fvU7jL0gfj4/UG_CKoeupRI/AAAAAAAAHl8/GSRFf8Sc7zo/s400/DSC08823.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center>
<p>
Meanwhile, Gary Aurit got to ride around in the back of pickup trucks, and hand out medals to runners.
<center>
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/X2U1XMWT3bMDbN4_m7nB-tMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-L---Sm3RILI/UG_B80LutEI/AAAAAAAAHkM/f1w9QV0jfiI/s288/DSC08805.JPG" height="191" width="288" /></a> <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5CianrHcet7WBVXVwzHYLNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ydLznf9UZC4/UG_CKCgLnjI/AAAAAAAAHl4/IwI5zqsORfY/s400/DSC08822.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a>
</center>
<p>
Thanks for a great year everyone!
<center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/28dsbvcglXh7qpX08jJB_dMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-kpXbDd4KmUI/UG_CcUkgbSI/AAAAAAAAHnU/GYiVStKu_OQ/s640/DSC08866.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></center>
Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-57418930745862903612011-11-16T16:34:00.001-08:002012-02-08T23:11:47.545-08:00Audience ParticipationMany of my runs are lunchtime jaunts during work, sometimes with co-workers, so in November 2010, I put out the call to the entire company (<a href="http://www.audience.com">Audience Inc.</a>) to see if I could assemble a team of 12 for <a href="http://www.therelay.com">The Relay.</a> The Relay is billed as a 199 mile (the actual mileage is 194.1) footrace that goes from Calistoga to Davenport, held in the first weekend of May. Runners each run three legs of varying difficulty for a total mileage of 12.9 to 18.5 miles depending on their leg assignment.<br /><br />The roster quickly hits 8 runners, but stalls. I put one more call out in January hoping some of the new employees were runners, and then turned to one of our VC companies for help. I met George, who sits on our board, at California International Marathon recognizing him from a company presentation months before, so I knew he was a runner. He brought along two more recruits, and with one final entry from within Audience, my team was assembled!<br /><br />The team roster (in signup order) was:<br /><b>Baldwyn Chieh</b>: <i>"Chronically injured, but hey, it's only 12-19 miles"</i><br /><b>Matt Ward</b>: <i>"In."</i><br /><b>Scott Warren</b>: <i>"Yeah, I'll do it."</i><br /><b>Francis Tiong</b>: <i>"I am interested. I run every week for 3 miles each time."</i><br /><b>Mark Every</b>: <i>"Sounds like fun, you can put me down."</i><br /><b>Ron Capra</b>: <i>"Ok, I'm in."</i><br /><b>Ram Sridharan</b>: <i>"I am very much an 'irregular runner, but I participated in this relay in 2005 and it was a lot of fun. I'd like to give it a try again."</i><br /><b>Van Le</b>: <i>"Please add me to the team. I'll deal with the repercussion later. ;-)"</i><br /><b>George Pavlov</b>: <i>"HQ has given the ok."</i><br /><b>Ted and Kim Neal</b>: <i>"Kim and I would love to participate!!!"</i><br /><b>Eric Skup</b>: <i>"I'm not an advanced runner but have been running regularly for 6 months. Nothing crazy but I usually run about 5-7 miles and keep close to a 10 min mile pace."</i><br /><br />Three of us were ultra-marathoners. A few more had completed at least one marathon (but most were not active marathoners). And the rest were race newbies.<br /><br />We also recruited two back up runners, Adam Abed and Clarissa Swihart who would end up being our volunteers (Adam's wife Isabelle also volunteered). One of our runners briefly had a conflict, and they were almost called up to run, but with some rescheduling on his part meant that we retained the original team without substitution. In other words: no one chickened out!!<br /><br />A bunch of team names were proposed, voted upon, and ultimately we became known as "Aud Men Out."<br /><br />Being the team captain required figuring out logistics and anticipating roadblocks, but really our team was actually quite low in maintenance. Our company, was also very supportive, and each runner even got a goodie bag complete with essentials, and custom printed tech shirts (two short sleeves and one long sleeve; one per leg!) Thanks again, Kristine! Still, as I was doing last minute shopping for supplies, and trying to make sure we were properly prepared, I started thinking this race was the most complicated way to get 18 miles of running in on a weekend.<br /><br />The Relay website neatly summarized the different runner slots with ratings of their difficulty. I had printed the elevation profiles and we had a lunch meeting to choose our positions. There was really very little quibbling, and I got my first choice. The hardest leg, of course.<br /><br /><table border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"><tr bgcolor="#3f3f3f"><td><b>Runner</b></td><td><b>Leg 1</b></td><td><b>Miles</b></td><td><b>Rating</b></td><td><b>Leg 2</b></td><td><b>Miles</b></td><td><b>Rating</b></td><td><b>Leg 3</b></td><td><b>Miles</b></td><td><b>Rating</b></td><td><b>Total Miles</b></td><td><b>Difficulty</b></td></tr><tr><td><b>1 Francis</b></td><td>1</td><td>4.8</td><td>E</td><td>13</td><td>6.0</td><td>M</td><td>25</td><td>5.5</td><td>E</td><td>16.3</td><td>12</td></tr><tr><td><b>2 Ram</b></td><td>2</td><td>4.7</td><td>E</td><td>14</td><td>5.0</td><td>H</td><td>26</td><td>4.2</td><td>E</td><td>13.9</td><td>10</td></tr><tr><td><b>3 Van</b></td><td>3</td><td>4.1</td><td>E</td><td>15</td><td>6.5</td><td>H</td><td>27</td><td>5.6</td><td>E</td><td>16.2</td><td>8</td></tr><tr><td><b>4 Mark</b></td><td>4</td><td>7.4</td><td>M</td><td>16</td><td>5.3</td><td>E</td><td>28</td><td>5.1</td><td>H</td><td>17.8</td><td>7</td></tr><tr><td><b>5 Ted</b></td><td>5</td><td>5.0</td><td>E</td><td>17</td><td>4.9</td><td>E</td><td>29</td><td>3.0</td><td>VH</td><td>12.9</td><td>9</td></tr><tr><td><b>6 Kim</b></td><td>6</td><td>4.5</td><td>E</td><td>18</td><td>5.8</td><td>H</td><td>30</td><td>3.1</td><td>VH</td><td>13.4</td><td>4</td></tr><tr><td><b>7 George</b></td><td>7</td><td>4.4</td><td>M</td><td>19</td><td>7.0</td><td>H</td><td>31</td><td>6.2</td><td>M</td><td>17.6</td><td>3</td></tr><tr><td><b>8 Ron</b></td><td>8</td><td>6.2</td><td>M</td><td>20</td><td>5.9</td><td>H</td><td>32</td><td>4.7</td><td>E</td><td>16.8</td><td>6</td></tr><tr><td><b>9 Eric</b></td><td>9</td><td>4.4</td><td>E</td><td>21</td><td>6.5</td><td>M</td><td>33</td><td>6.3</td><td>E</td><td>17.2</td><td>11</td></tr><tr><td><b>10 Baldwyn</b></td><td>10</td><td>8.1</td><td>H</td><td>22</td><td>4.2</td><td>E</td><td>34</td><td>6.2</td><td>VH</td><td>18.5</td><td>1</td></tr><tr><td><b>11 Scott</b></td><td>11</td><td>6.9</td><td>H</td><td>23</td><td>3.7</td><td>E</td><td>35</td><td>6.2</td><td>VH</td><td>16.8</td><td>2</td></tr><tr><td><b>12 Matt</b></td><td>12</td><td>4.8</td><td>H</td><td>24</td><td>5.9</td><td>M</td><td>36</td><td>6.0</td><td>M</td><td>16.7</td><td>5</td></tr><br /></table><br />E=Easy, M=Moderate, H=Hard, VH=Very Hard<br /><br />We rented two vans (runners 1-6 in one, 7-12 in the other), and all met in the Audience parking lot at 8:30 on race day. Even Ted and Kim who live near the start, decided to trek it down to Mountain View to make it easier logistically. Scott made me sweat a bit by arriving a few minutes late. Since I'd be spending most of the weekend in Van 2, I decided to ride up with Van 1, and hang out with them for their first leg while Van 2 went wine tasting, or got pedicures or whatever they ended up doing.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Fx-CjrsTe-dKDOEk66NFCytD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sp8N7ZeYtxk/TjZCsHJcKmI/AAAAAAAAFSU/S6oTrTdwuwI/s400/DSC04567.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />Van 1 pulled onto the grassy field, wedged in next to the "Donor Party"; the team my podiatrist was on! I had seen him about a week or two prior to the Relay because I thought I had a metatarsal fracture that had convinced me to DNF at American River 50 mile Endurance Run (where I saw Relay runners Ted and George after I switched to volunteering at Beale's Point since I had time to kill). He said it was more likely tendonitis, and not a fracture, and cleared me for the event. We both knew I was going to run anyways. We started taping signs to the vans after the second one arrived, surrounded by dozens of other teams bustling about with similar activities, the air full of energy yet unspent.<br /><br />Groups of runners toed the starting line every half hour. The Relay staggers the start time for the teams to have the runners all finish within a similar window. We anxiously await our start time of 12 noon.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/JQ3KXdMqZeCpu1dSp3SZjStD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jJJbuTgeTqU/TjZCpYhpG-I/AAAAAAAAFSE/Dz7wx-tsiCs/s400/DSC04545.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />Finally, our time comes, and 9 Runner #1s line up to be interviewed by the announcer who reminds us of the charity that the Relay supports; organ donation. Francis is asked what organ he would donate, and he selflessly offers up the team captain's (that would be me) kidneys.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xHBIepXZj7ZNL5MpFL21-itD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-qOMZyZ5tetw/TcHumpKC3DI/AAAAAAAADxc/e34vA_HC_RM/s400/DSC04548.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />A quick countdown, and we're off and running, with Francis leading the charge! Francis had been battling a knee issue that plagued him since signing up, but he kept hanging in there. He immediately surprises us by running his first leg faster (8:50 m/m) than anything he did in training. That set the bar for the rest of the team. I think most of us came into this thinking we would hold back on our initial leg, to save something for the later runs, but with this precedence, we were inspired.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Cbo7QNje5F89bzFJC1G6lCtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-MwsbGghkXZw/TcHurQcTmBI/AAAAAAAADx4/N9Ik4T2-x2I/s400/DSC04558.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/A6ULmV6i66LQGVYUSFEuuCtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-1sqOnmSmAS0/TcHuwZkrI1I/AAAAAAAADyU/oriwfkhq6ss/s400/DSC04581.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />The weather is spectacular; a perfect Northern California spring day. This race begins in wine country and slowly winds west, towards San Francisco for the first van load of legs. Even though we're pounding on asphalt, you can't complain about the view. The wrist band (that serves as the baton) passes to Ram, who might have been our most consistent runner in training, in terms of pace. He improved gradually as training went on but never got set back by injuries. Perhaps Mr "Suspected 5th Metatarsal Head Stress Fracture" should pay attention, but I only learn the hard way, and rarely the first time. This leg, he cranks out the perfect balance of speed and conservation of effort.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/YlTy8qoPwkpKer69us06ZCtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qUbQhURGpEM/TcHu1HLZdFI/AAAAAAAADy8/-Ba-RIdeI_4/s400/DSC04593.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />Van (the runner, not the vehicle) follows. He has had issues carving out a period of time to train, but always made an effort. We worried that he wouldn't get enough miles under his belt before the big weekend, but he too surprised us with a fast leg.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/llNEft29jL-U8BGROdet9CtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LLgJ3-tP9Y4/TjZC0baHvTI/AAAAAAAAFTA/0yJcXORuRqU/s400/DSC04608.JPG" height="400" width="269" /></a></center><br /><br />Van 1 works well together, stopping mid-leg to check on the active runner, and every exchange goes flawlessly. The exchanges are hopping with activity; many runners having fun, and cheering each other on. And so far everyone is fresh. We're well ahead of schedule, and I check in on Van 2 to find them wine-tasting, and make sure they'll be at the first van exchange on time. Mark gets some friendly competition going by setting the team record pace of 7:42 minute/miles on a 7.4 mile leg! He might not run as much as some of us, but he has youth and clean living on his side. He does strain a calf in the process, but this hardly seems to slow him down later in the race.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/21mn8xoAIqM2qT-D0oHPCCtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-uyr24EhXVQw/TjZC4sSMhpI/AAAAAAAAFTU/ni2BG_1SESk/s400/DSC04624.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />Next up is Ted, and I think he really added to the organization of van 1, with a pilot's attention to detail, and an ultra-marathoner's patience. We were entertained in the van ride by stories of the exotic places he has flown to, and plant a seed of an idea for a group trip to <a href="http://www.comrades.com">Comrades</a>.<br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/82872736'></iframe></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6EeC7A0QZYoASnlItfUTiytD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Mo4Nk0rODXo/TcHvJjWl65I/AAAAAAAAD1A/iL0y4_E7jPs/s400/DSC04651.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />The wristband passes to his wife, Kim, who serves as the anchor to van 1, and brings us into Napa for the first van exchange.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kOgk8ibhZfz1uzpNafMNFStD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--FPwsx9-9sg/TcHvLaro2GI/AAAAAAAAD1U/dlSI0OJrhgM/s400/DSC04656.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />We meet as a full team again, at the busiest exchange yet (not just a runner exchange, but a van exchange) and I realize I may have forgotten one detail about jumping onto van 1, and then having to switch to van 2. I'm not going to get to have lunch! We do have things to eat, and I think I end up eating Ron's leftover quesadilla, so don't feel too badly for me. Kim comes through the final chute, and hands over the wristband to George, and finally my half of the team is off and running! <br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/XqlokCHw8W0y7AhNH4mAAytD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-i5NorF9ub4A/TcHvT4Xv-QI/AAAAAAAAD2Q/2PIXuysltSk/s400/DSC04678.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />George manages to give van 2 an air of respectability, which is no easy task, given the cast of characters. He is a seasoned ultra-runner, and I'm entertained by stories of his training runs (like running from Woodside to San Francisco and then running the San Francisco marathon). He brings us out of Napa, and hands off to Ron.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/7qKqe5tzsKJW-uxB2L9N_StD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LbnzAEjOo6Q/TcHvf8EKJpI/AAAAAAAAD3c/L-NOXA50nS4/s400/DSC04704.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83261345'></iframe></center><br /><br />Ron's a workhorse, and crushes a moderately hard leg with a 7:50 pace. We flub our first exchange of the race at Vineburg Deli. We're disorganized, and when Ron comes in, Eric is across the street. Precious seconds are lost, but of course, in the end just in the noise, but it contrasts with how smoothly all the exchanges went with van 1.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/NlRoAcS6RdgUSvJ1XsyVZytD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-P5kIoYKiqB4/TcHvh3ZOe1I/AAAAAAAAD3w/iKBuCKe6V3c/s400/DSC04712.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />Eric really stepped up to the challenge of this race for being a newbie runner. He is the most improved of the team, surprising me with how much faster he's gotten since we started. Scott is very diligent in making sure our runners have support and water, and we stop twice for Eric; the last one dangerously close to the exchange. As a result, we don't make it to the exchange point before Eric arrives, and I'm late to pick up the wristband!<br /><br />My time to run. I take off hard, partially to make up the time lost in the exchange, but mostly because it feels great to finally run. I see another runner up ahead, and think I can catch her, but she loses me as we hit an incline, and some "construction terrain." I'm not on asphalt, but the hard packed dirt is rutted from construction vehicles, which I'm finding oddly more technical than a a trail. A few miles in, and I see our van, and gratefully accept some water. Up until now, I've been thinking these runner stops were superfluous; I mean, I'd expect I could run 8 miles without even needing to carry water, but I find the water stop is very helpful. The second stop wasn't, and I yell at Scott, who is still in street clothes, to get dressed. I run into the exchange just as Scott is putting on a reflective vest.<br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83138428'></iframe></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5CcyU9entrp3_zRNuE02HytD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-dp1TA1SWRX4/TcHvkmuWt-I/AAAAAAAAD4Q/e17xtQjnXwo/s400/DSC04721.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />We are approaching dusk, and required to use reflective gear, and flashlights. We are in the hills and fields of Petaluma, and the roads are familiar as I remember them from numerous motorcycle rides. Scott's running hard (close enough or faster than Mark depending on how good our accounting is), while we start preparing for nightfall. The fading light brings about an air of nervous energy. Running at night is unfamiliar to most of the team, and we start worrying that the easy part is over, and the next leg will be run on tired legs, in the chill of night, with a sleepy brain.<br /><br />Matt, our anchor, heads out for his first leg, as darkness quickly sets in. Fluorescent dots catch our headlights along the winding Petaluma road, which now feels much too narrow as we negotiate around runners who seem to have only mere inches of space to the right of the fog line. I worry about Matt's safety, but he is enjoying the tranquility night has brought.<br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83035674'></iframe></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Z7jVUiyV6Yq4AQUim8vCsStD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5Y73zWgcw0M/TcHvnZyqJDI/AAAAAAAAD4s/YM4xRr8IrXA/s400/DSC04733.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />The Cheese Factory glows warmly, and is a hive of activity, as buses arrive and depart like worker bees. Every time I enter the parking lot of this place, I'm amused to think of how many times I've been here (maybe a dozen?) and have yet to set foot inside. A lighted chute is lined with runners and spectators as they cheer on the active runners. This is a van exchange, and somehow we find members from Van 1 in the darkness and the crowd. I don't get to see Matt hand the baton off to Francis, but it goes off without a hitch, and after catching up with the other half of our team, we depart to find dinner, and perhaps a nap before we're off and running again.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_5u-3rKkwEF0ArQhBbTM9ytD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-btKhvzIFtB8/TcHvnnw7WZI/AAAAAAAAD4w/E24bpsdKLPM/s400/DSC04736.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />Van 1 will take us through Marin County across the Golden Gate Bridge to San Francisco. At some point, I've totally lost my bearings, and I'm glad Scott knows what he's doing as he drives us southwesterly. We pull into Corte Madera and look for an open restaurant. It's only around 9pm, but feels much later. Benissimo looks good enough, and six unwashed runners (this is why Van 2 is known as the Stinky Van) sit at tables with white cloths making full use of the complementary bread. The food is great and we're not too tired to talk about the day's events, while occasionally we can see brightly garbed runners with blinking lights pass right by the window.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Y5ttMush1V_eTrBIG-csHCtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_5woU3S3gDU/TcHvpNrZk5I/AAAAAAAAD5A/Y1KH-O-wT5Q/s400/DSC04742.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qYy1qbwHwu2aP4apgxLzritD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-7w7DiUktYW0/TcHvpimZudI/AAAAAAAAD5E/3x9ZW_YbTB0/s400/DSC04746.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />We drive to the next van exchange and try to sleep. Scott was right on the money when he said we shouldn't try to do this in a minivan, and the more seats the better. I'm trying to sleep upright in the passenger seat up front, and somewhat succeed. I get notification of a new record being set by Mark (7:32 m/m average for his leg). Matt gives up on the idea of sleeping while sitting, and pulls a sleeping bag beside our parking spot. I get updates via text message from Ted, and get notification that Kim will be coming across the Golden Gate sometime after 12:30. <br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/82872755'><br><small></iframe><br><i>Ted's Second Leg</i></small></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ljaxr9VNEy4CucODZjpBNCtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-tuq0JclhtV0/TcHvp-2fwhI/AAAAAAAAD5I/V5hYEVTh3G4/s400/DSC04749.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />We slowly start moving about the van, joints rusty, eyes blinking away the sleep. I make my way to the volunteer table where they are out of coffee, but at least they have some soup. The air is cold, and so is the soup. This van exchange is more subdued than the others. Teams are starting to stretch out over time, and there's a hush that comes with the darkness. The exchange chute is lit up, and there's rock and roll music playing but everyone seems to be conserving energy instead of spending it needlessly bopping to the beat. Kim is breathless as she comes in from a gorgeous run across the Golden Gate bridge, and George is off to make his way to the Great Highway.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/pLpzb4wyxRct9w53jxk7HitD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-x2J_UsUBdYU/TcHvr5td0uI/AAAAAAAAD5k/k9UGCdQ7pDo/s400/DSC04761.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TyYNt7ijKDJ9yX3s46uCACtD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-a9i87bS10e4/TcHvqSSeO0I/AAAAAAAAD5M/4CmRJZl8yGk/s400/DSC04750.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />We catch up with the Van 1 runners, who are soon on their way to George's house near the next van exchange, which I'm sure will prove to be more comfortable than sleeping in the parking lot.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TVRgNmQfKMfDPDC60qgj-ytD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SF28GTAlQ6Q/TcHvt3CefKI/AAAAAAAAD54/yEWb-eR1D2k/s400/DSC04767.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />I've never seen San Francisco like this before. I guess if I see San Francisco at night, it's usually in an area more populated with bars. Of course, George tells me that he runs past a couple of inebriated fellows who are astonished by the presence of a runner. The ocean is calm and stretches behind us into inky blackness, and a single bonfire marks the land's end.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/gqOTKoojoRxM9lRPL0wbpStD8r7bAxTI6S4y2UtohQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-MNcHd3yM17U/TcHvuqBaAbI/AAAAAAAAD6A/YQyuFRMvrp4/s400/DSC04769.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83261333'><br><small></iframe><br><i>Ron's second leg</i></small></center><br /><br />I have run over 160 miles in San Francisco so far, and each time it surprises me how small the city actually is. Maybe because it takes so long to drive across it. It only takes us a runner or two before we're out of the city, and winding southward along Skyline Blvd. When it comes to my run, I'm shivering just stepping out of the van, and pondering whether to add a jacket to my long sleeve <a href="http://www.earsmart.com">earSmart</a> shirt. Scott convinces me otherwise. I'm really looking forward to this, because this is my easy leg!<br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83138416'></iframe></center><br /><br />The initial rolling hills seem to take something out of my legs. How did I get so bad at running hills? I'm running with a guy in Vibram FiveFingers, and mention that I'm glad I didn't use mine for the first leg with all the construction terrain (I might be more hardcore about minimalist shoes now). We hit a downhill, and he's doing some weird skipping thing, probably because he's finding it hard on his joints. I'm not quite as fast as I hoped, but manage a 7:20 average pace. Enough to beat Mark! :) But then much confusion, because there's no Scott waiting for me. Instead, I'm being waved into the van. I never did understand the description of the "van bridge" but it becomes clear now. We have to drive to the next point to avoid running through some messy construction, and Scott shoots out of the van. He definitely sets a new record on the shortest leg of the race (1.8 miles) but our accounting has to include the driving and exchange time, which slows him down! It is in the midst of this confusion that we lose the wristband we've carried for over 100 miles.<br /><br />Matt, who brought us into the darkness, now brings us out. The sun rises during his run, and we're in full light by the time he arrives at Canada college to high five (this is our new passing of the wristband) Francis for Van 1's final legs. This is actually the last time the team is fully together, as some of their runners will depart after they finish. <br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/d_URNzcmyPeSH5WrX7iuCyqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Iz8B94jgJ0c/TcHzhITh4SI/AAAAAAAAD9k/bjKY01Pu3xc/s400/DSC04778.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />We head to George's house, not far from the College, and raid his kitchen. Some runners go to sleep immediately. Some shower first. For me, the sun brings about new energy and it takes awhile before I can finally fall asleep. <br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/iSzIumD3oRCwVScvtH8PeyqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5A4lQiPv3mg/TcHziaduOtI/AAAAAAAAD9w/BMOhswmPsU0/s400/DSC04782.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GtUuD4juX-Tky1DCyfnQoCqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-s-VZIGOt3IQ/TcHzjn0q7nI/AAAAAAAAD98/wzgIG8Mf3Do/s400/DSC04786.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />I get a call from Ted, and van 1 runners are just flying! I know that Ted and Kim have a large climb for their last runs, but they're tackling those hills hard. Matt goes to pick up his girlfriend for the last section, and I'm stressing a bit that he won't make it back before we should leave, but I always underestimate his driving abilities. We rouse the team (some are harder to wake than others), and head out for the home stretch. We get to meet one of George's daughters and his wife over breakfast.<br /><br />It's mid morning by the time we arrive at Skyline and Highway 9 for the last van exchange. Van 1's spirits are high, but only a few will be meeting us at the finish, so we say our final goodbyes (I haven't seen Ted or Kim since), proud to have shared in the adventure so far. <br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/7J54QMs5_5bvNcRCyhBboSqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-jOLP1FM4tfE/TcHzvpPKhkI/AAAAAAAAD_Y/SSWHPAHxa30/s400/DSC04814.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/k0lOLyLkAs3N42M27rG45SqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Pr14pciKYjI/TcHzxRjmhQI/AAAAAAAAD_k/Ckv291RCVfE/s400/DSC04820.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />We seem so far from the vineyards where we started the day before. It's warmer for one thing, despite the fact that we're running through forest lined roads. We start with two downhill legs, and George and Ron hold nothing back. George's pace sets the final race record for our team: 6:55, but Ron isn't far behind with a 7:09. Eric struggles a bit on his leg, as the temperature has crossed over from warm to hot, and finally it's my turn with what's supposed to be the hardest leg of the race.<br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83261320'></iframe><br><small><i>Ron's 3rd Leg</i></small></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KZ5usa_5bNrVk7egvhppDyqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-JZejclRAVqI/TcHzzDvaufI/AAAAAAAAD_0/Zu636Y5spNk/s400/DSC04827.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TMnIeul8beEj98SqXjzOEiqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-UeluZ55e3PI/TcH0FzDr9ZI/AAAAAAAAEBk/CH59Y20K9kg/s400/DSC04859.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/btj-hP43HKjPJH5_3DTuWyqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Ww0UL88Uevg/TcH0O8Q5uiI/AAAAAAAAECo/P9rLxNvX0yg/s400/DSC04890.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />My leg leads through Felton, and then up through the Granite Construction Quarry. Three miles of sort of flat, followed by 3 miles of climb. My legs are pretty tired, and I'm surprised when I start to really feel the heat going through Felton. I greedily consume a Gatorade when the van stops for me, grabbing one to go, and turn uphill.<br /><br />I thought I'd hammer the uphill, but I'm definitely tired now. More tired than doing the final 6 of an 18 mile run, I think. I'm a little frustrated, I mean, I'm supposed to be an ultrarunner! Van 2 stops mid-hill to cheer me on, and it helps. I start watching the mileage on my watch, to make one last surge, and can finally see my finish line. One last charge, and I tag Scott who takes off flying.<br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83138407'></iframe></center><br /><br />Scott's leg is the second hardest of the race. But he's boosted by some friendly competition that gives him a strong finish (he beats the other guy).<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/gtN4X9LLK9oetKekKsp9gyqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-dDZqE048i3Y/TcH0ieWzQCI/AAAAAAAAEEg/wqYZ51RTypM/s400/DSC04946.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center><br /><br />One last passing of the baton. Six more miles.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mY9lPsDuN5MAVgpr2esNZSqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fl64fm53OF8/TcH0k31efdI/AAAAAAAAEEs/iHtXszg-GVs/s400/DSC04950.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></center><br /><br />Matt takes us from forest to ocean, as he runs down Bonny Doon Rd, and turns on highway one. The ocean air is cooler, and feels and smells great. We stop once to give him water, and then head to the finish at Swanton Berry Farm.<br /><br />We're met by Ram and Mark, and anxiously peer down towards the ocean for Matt. Finally, he appears, and the team quickly joins him for the final push to the finish line. Scott grabs my video camera, I'm running backwards, shooting photos!<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/aCUtbawi0n_XAheIocV9WSqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MbPz5Ht2rgA/TcH0vDoCLUI/AAAAAAAAEFw/to6NcSRqWZs/s400/DSC04993.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/XB9uU3Cv9rs9lE-qQXbAByqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-qAixZKWsTS0/TcH0x2AHopI/AAAAAAAAEGA/kOQEuqLLZkM/s400/DSC05009.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/83035698'></iframe></center><br /><br />And just like that it's over. 194 miles done. I think it's less than a minute before we have beers cracked for our toast. <br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/deXLrm1tSceTFfT5Z-dGRiqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-GO6mQgYzXfw/TcH03hZlGDI/AAAAAAAAEGo/PIuUte6cJGU/s400/DSC05026.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br /><b>Final stats: <br />194 miles in 27:29:19 (8.5 m/m average), to place 63 out of 226 teams!</b><br /><br />We beat our volunteers to the finish, but they're a welcoming sight when they arrive. We're required to provide volunteers in order to run, and I'm incredibly grateful to them to take up this less glorious task.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/7hsTRQzuTYU4pkWHcPMyKyqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-WpmoWqnYWnc/TcH1Ubwi1bI/AAAAAAAAEJ4/WHntA-ub9vg/s400/DSC05085.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></center><br /><br />I turn in our time sheet, and collect our medals. There's a TV crew who asks us about whether we know any organ donors or recipients, and George mentions that his wife is a living donor to his daughter (both of whom we got to meet). Suddenly, the whole race comes into a sharper focus for us. The symbolism of passing the baton, the charity we've been working to help, the importance of every member to our team. <br /><br />George and I discuss the run through an ultra-runners' lens, and are surprised to find the event to be a unique experience. Despite not even running a marathon distance, the night sections, and the lack of sleep, different conditions certainly make it feel like an ultra. But beyond that, we're runners, we're crew, we're aid station volunteers. And finally in the end, we're all much better friends.<br /><br />The vans might never smell the same.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/NjLEIMrIOTyrk74lGMFjaCqH-1fhAUPMWxaKSOLoqxU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-TPJ75LsUUHE/TjZDIEldd1I/AAAAAAAAGZU/Q5HaQ2OFhzY/s400/IMG_0397.JPG" height="400" width="299" /></a></center><br /><br /><b>Full picture albums:</b><br /><center><table style="width:194px;"><tr><td align="center" style="height:194px;background:url(https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/112693005438248937894/2011TheRelay?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCKKvn9fT7_DbMg&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-J5c3sWf4UDY/TcHueRl61_E/AAAAAAAAFUY/HRRqzGi3xRo/s160-c/2011TheRelay.jpg" width="160" height="160" style="margin:1px 0 0 4px;"></a></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align:center;font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:11px"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/112693005438248937894/2011TheRelay?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCKKvn9fT7_DbMg&feat=embedwebsite" style="color:#4D4D4D;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;">2011 The Relay</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><table style="width:194px;"><tr><td align="center" style="height:194px;background:url(https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/112693005438248937894/2011TheRelayDay2?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIeh3JW2nYv-qwE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_vHK-EfwWZg/TcHzgrRIAtE/AAAAAAAAGZU/7l9BSM_HxOs/s160-c/2011TheRelayDay2.jpg" width="160" height="160" style="margin:1px 0 0 4px;"></a></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align:center;font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:11px"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/112693005438248937894/2011TheRelayDay2?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIeh3JW2nYv-qwE&feat=embedwebsite" style="color:#4D4D4D;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;">2011 The Relay, Day 2</a></td></tr></table></center><br /><br /><centeR><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lN9oMNN1yrQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-76833983715748632662011-09-28T18:06:00.001-07:002011-11-16T13:21:56.876-08:00Crazy Loves Company"Did I tell you that Western States was televised?" Adam asked me as we run two warmup miles before doing our two one mile repeat workout. <br /><br />Adam has been my regular running partner at work since I first recruited him to be a backup runner for our Relay team (which I really should blog about). Despite my youthful appearance, Adam is actually a lot younger than me, and was a solid cross country runner in high school. So of course I had to try to run him into the ground when he first showed up to <a href="http://connect.garmin.com/activity/70807975">a Relay team workout (10k, that was perhaps the longest he had ever run).</a> He held on pretty good, caught the running bug, and continued stretching the distance, and started getting really quite speedy. He had been training for his first half marathon, coming up on October 23 (<a href="http://www.mhmarathon.com/">Morgan Hill Marathon</a>).<br /><br />Meanwhile, I was battling achilles tendonitis (first thought it was a stress fracture), knee issues again, dropped a motorcycle on my heel, and broke my left arm...again. <br /><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/e-M5DOGN2oOi2Y27TYKzwPVCsgum-w6HrEL7BAJPz-U?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFEV9nDHaU_1LEj3ZQrr-LroQwlgmjvsSCcUcNJBxGY1vuBGohdEajr_tUPhIYV9fIFRR_2UQoU6Xd6Lc_iiv30feAAtbJXYknO9VceWgVMlJ1_6IqbSpdvzbowK1j11tvlr1dEkXMBJQ/s288/rad.jpg" /></a><br />In fact, I'm still in the splint, and this is the second week back to running post-break.<br /><br />"Yeah, you told me about it," I reply. After a pause. "I guess I'm going another year without qualifying for that race." I was a little bummed about admitting it, but I haven't run much since Tahoe Rim Trail 50 (another blog entry I need to write), so it'd be crazy, right?<br /><br />"What do you have to do qualify?"<br /><br />"Run 50 miles in under 11 hours. By November." (This was the last week of September; not many 5 week training schedules for 50 mile runs out there).<br /><br />"What 50 mile races are there between now and then," he asks.<br /><br />"Firetrails 50. That might be tough to go sub-11. Rock 'n River, probably not too hard, that's in 3 weeks. Of course, there's always Last Chance 50, on the last day to qualify for Western States. Easy course too. Maybe first, second week of November?"<br /><br />"I'll do it with you," Adam says.<br /><br />"What? Like pace me? Or the whole 50?"<br /><br />"The whole 50. Let's do it." <br /><br />"Dude, it'd be so cool if you just skipped the marathon and went straight to ultras. And not just a 50k, but a 50 mile run."<br /><br />We hit the point where we're going to start the first mile repeat, so we don't talk anymore. I'm ready to turn around. Two miles of warmup is just stupid. He takes of flying, and I can't catch him. My knee hurts, my lungs gasp for air, and I'm feeling out of shape. I probably didn't even break 8 minute miles. I meet him as he's finishing his recovery interval.<br /><br />"Eleven hours, that's like 13 minutes per mile right? That just doesn't seem that hard," he says.<br /><br />I nod, knowing this is the kind of math that inspires people to sign up for things.<br /><br />"Yeah, no problem. Let's do this. 50 miles," he says confidently.<br /><br />"I'm game!" I say. "You go ahead and run the second repeat. I'm going to recover more."<br /><br />I slug out the next mile, my legs feeling dead. I am tired. I take walk breaks. It's hot, and I think I'm hungry. Adam comes running back to meet me, and we both break into a walk. He had strained his calf, and is finding it too painful to continue running. <br /><br />We talk 50 mile race strategy as we proceed to walk in the last 2 miles of our 7 mile run.Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-75740669210391116402011-01-24T18:30:00.000-08:002011-01-24T18:40:05.746-08:002011 Running GoalsIt finally occurred to me, 3 weeks into the new year, to actually record what my 2011 goals are, especially since I'm nicely on track.<br /><br />In 2010:<br />Number of Runs: 89<br />Miles Run: 514.09<br />Races: 3, Bay to Breakers 12k, Run to the Lake 10k, Firetrails 50M<br />Longest Run: 50M<br />Barefoot Miles: 43.83<br /><br />My goal for 2011 is simple; I'm doubling what I did in 2010! So, to do the math:<br />Number of Runs: 178<br />Miles Runs: 1028.18<br />Races: 6<br />Longest Run: 100M<br />Barefoot Miles: heck, let's round to 100<br /><br />Let's see how it goes!Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-246868795439866852010-10-11T14:34:00.000-07:002010-10-18T08:31:56.954-07:00No ExpectationsWell, after my <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2010/09/negotiations.html">last blog entry</a>, I learnt that 2010 is the last year ultrarunning legend Ann Trason would be directing <a href="www.firetrails50.net">Firetrails 50M</a>. That pretty much sealed the deal. I had worked the race, but I had never run it under her care. I had to do that, at least once, even if I didn't finish. So with a mere 8 days to go, I signed up for my first ultra marathon of the year. Of course, once I confirmed payment, I was hit with a sense of dread over what I was about to do. Ultras are pretty tough on a good day, but with no training and a questionable knee, I figured I pretty much signed up for hours of pain and suffering with a slim chance of a finish to make it truly satisfying.<br /><br />But then my dread turned to excitement. Friends were posting on Facebook about gearing up for race day, and I looked forward to seeing them. I started to play in my mind the scenes of dark redwoods, the gorgeous views of the Bay, the dust in the air, sun on my skin. Adventure awaited!<br /><br />My old race morning breakfast of almond butter and jam on whole wheat toast was replaced with a large fruit smoothie, added chia gel and liquid pectin. Almond milk and turmeric chaser. Also new to the pre-race routine was Rock Taping (similar to Kinesotape, but this stuff I could buy at Sports Basement, and apparently is supposed to stick better than KT) the knee to encourage the knee cap to track more medially, so it doesn't rub against the area missing cartilage. I had only tried this once before (2010 Bay To Breakers), and figured it was worth a try. The tape would come off easily if it started to give me trouble.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/TLJbYypioFI/AAAAAAAACrA/Z4nHfjQNqjQ/s400/IMG_0932.JPG"></center><p><br /><br />Which was reminiscent of a very unrestful evening the day before, where as I shifted my motorcycle into neutral, a shifter linkage snapped, and I had to MacGuyver it with wire, tie-wraps and electrical tape.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/TLiqty3G8iI/AAAAAAAACtg/n4GeEBdpATg/s400/IMG_0945.JPG"></center><p><br /><br />Lake Chabot was 10, maybe 15 minutes away, and I treated my future self by parking in the lot close to the finish line for $5. Mine was the last bib at will-call. In the pre-dawn darkness, I got to meet and greet <a href="http://ultrailnaka.blogspot.com/">Mark Tanaka</a>, Sean Lang, Brad Fenner, and Hao Liu. Mark returned my spare Garmin so I could try to record the entire run on two watches (my 405 and the 305).<br /><br />The race started off in darkness, and everyone was chattering about what the day was going to bring. I concentrated on my form, especially since the first stretch was on pavement. I ran the gentle downhills very timidly; my body instinctively protecting the knee. I knew the knee can handle it if I did it right, but hadn't been doing hills enough to have the confidence. The Marceil Road aid station came pretty quickly and I just got a slight top off on one of my water bottles before continuing. This was one of the longer stretches between aid stations on the course. I ran with Clement Choy, and Mike Palmer. I told Mike that the last time I saw him (when I went to the Fremont Fat Ass 50k to hang out), he told me surgery was a last result, and I had to thank him for that advice. The next aid station was Bort Meadows, where I worked last year with Stan Jensen. Stan was there again as expected, but I was surprised to find Nattu Natraj taking our bib numbers as we approach. Nattu made a heroic effort at Spartathlon this year, and I congratulated him as he asked about my knee. I was starting to get hungry and Ann's homemade cookies really hit the spot. The table was a little light on other goodies, but the Big Bear was a short 2.6 miles away.<br /><br />I was surprised to find Nattu, again, at Big Bear, and asked "Are you crewing for me today, Nattu?" Immediately a woman I recognized from various races says, "No! He's mine!" I laughed and ate cookies and on the next stretch she introduced herself as Nattu's girlfriend, Karen Bonnett. We talked about what a rock star Nattu is, ultras and other crazy pursuits (triathlons and super-long bike rides), and agreed to try to stick together to encourage each other on the run. About half way through this section (12 miles on the course), I had to announce to her that I had surpassed my mileage PR for the year. Man, this was crazy. I did an inventory of how I was was feeling. Legs were feeling capable but a little tired. Knee was fine. Feet were fine. I recognized Stream Trail, and I was reminded of the Epiphany 2009. That was another tough race for me, where a knee had gone out at mile 9, and hiked the last 18 miles of that race, including this section. Well, this day, I was doing much better, but I'm starting to feel the miles.<br /><br />I focused on refueling at Skyline Gate at mile 15. I was getting tired, but maybe it was because I was running low on calories. Peanut butter sandwiches, potatoes with salt, and I left knowing Karen would catch up. I enjoyed the rollercoater nature of the trail, for a little while, until my legs start cramping on the uphills. Karen caught up, and soon Leigh Moser joined us as well. The hills started to get steeper, or at least felt steeper; I hadn't been running hills at all, and lost much of my climbing ability. I lost Karen and Leigh, by the time I pulled into Sibley Park at mile 18.4. My feet were no longer fine. I could feel my left pinkie toe blistering. The top of my left foot was hurting too, and I finally stopped at one point to retie my shoe, which helps a little bit. <br /><br />A co-worker had made a bet (case of Racer 5 IPA) with me that I would DNF before entering Sibley Park for the second time (mile 33.6), so even though this was the first time I entered that aid station, and I still had 15.2 miles before returning, it was still a nice milestone. I pulled in around the same time as Marilyn Oberhardt, who was having a gravity challenged day. Two falls so far, she was making a blood sacrifice to this run for the finish. But she ran with a contagious spirit.<br /><br />After a downhill section, the course climbed and climbed, and I reminded myself that there will be a downhill after all this. I started to hear the whistle of a train, and I knew the Steam Trains aid station was near. I started to think of my son, Mason, because we had gone on the train last year for his birthday. I wondered what it was like growing up with an ultra-running father, and what memories both my kids would retain. I hoped it would inspire them to reach beyond the norm, and live spectacularly. I was also hoping he would be kind to me the next day, and not jump on my legs.<br /><br />I had made a conscious effort to make sure I was well fueled before leaving Steam Trains, with full bottles, since Lone Oak was 4.3 miles away. It wasn't immediately downhill, as I thought looking at the course profile, and the trail was really rocky. When we did have a downhill section, I ran with trepidation because of the knee and rocks. However, it was great to see my faster ultra-running friends, already past the turnaround at this point. I enjoyed surprising a couple, like Joe Swenson and Chihping Fu, who knew I was still recovering, and didn't expect me to be back in 50 mile shape. Well, heck, I wasn't expecting me to be in 50 mile shape. Diane Forrest knew I was running, but I think I still surprised her making it so far. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/TLvVewnl9LI/AAAAAAAACvY/oUT7GFVGXzk/s400/66440_1672887022425_1244891477_31869470_6347426_n.jpg"><br><i><small>Photo Courtesy Chihping Fu</small></i></center><br /><br />There was a beautiful stretch, almost 2 miles long, of runnable downhill to the Loan Oak aid station at mile 26. My legs started to feel renewed, and was even cranking out a single digit minute/mile pace. As I ran into the aid station, I saw two of my favourite running ambassadors, our sweeps for the event, <a href="http://rajeevtherunner.blogspot.com/">Rajeev Patel</a> and Anil Rao. They gave me a huge welcome, and were very encouraging. This point was my short goal for the day, and I was feeling great! I knew I had some of the biggest climbs of the day to face, but I had all day to do it. I sampled my usual ultra-fare; chips, peanut butter sandwiches, but I was getting tired of stuff. Then just as I was about to leave, someone mentioned they had grilled cheese sandwich. YEAH!! Boy, that hit the spot.<br /><br />After I left, I went to call my wife to tell her how I was doing. She had promised to rescue my ass if I got myself in a bad spot, bless her, and I figured I should check in if I had cell service. Trish said I sounded strong, and I think we both knew at that point that I was going to finish. But the climb back to Steam Trains was long and relentless. I wanted to take a break and rest, but what good would that do?! I started to watch my pace, simply because I wanted to get to the point where I could walk the finish in and still make the final cutoff. That steam whistle sounded so good, and few minutes later, I hit the 30.3 mile mark at the Steam Trains aid station.<br /><br />Wait, 30.3 miles? I've finished several 50k (31 miles) runs feeling much worse. This wasn't too bad at all! Ok feet (especially the left) hurt, but heck, I was used to it. Blisters, while they can be very painful, rarely turn into long term injuries. Beer (Sibley Park bet) was in sight, but a finish felt completely in reach. And I was having FUN. The next section went quicker, thanks to being downhill, and I won the bet (my winnings have YET to bee delivered, however) when I pulled into Sibley Park.<br /><br />There was no question of continuing at this point. Skyline gate would mark just a mere half-marathon (although some part of mind tried to remind me that a half-marathon was still longer than my longest run for the year...until this run) to the finish. It was work, but completely manageable. But I was starving, and it was affecting progress.<br /><br />I came into Skyline Gate to be greeted by Miki Higuchi, who was waiting to pace her runner Todd Wong. I immediately got busy trying to refuel with cookies, and then discovered that the watermelon was much more satisfying. Miki was pretty impressed I made it so far, and hell, so was I. Dennis Connor was still working the aid station, and asked me how things were going. I declared that I had this run in the bag. He turned to another runner who was trying to drop out, and recommend that we run together. The other runner left before me as I scarfed down more watermelon, at which point Dennis declared that my time was up. <br /><br />I caught up with the other runner and tried to find out how he was doing. He really didn't want me to run with him. This run was his first 50 mile attempt, although he was quite experienced with 50k's. I mentioned that by the next aid station, he will have run over 40 miles, and if he gives up then, he'll have to run over 40 miles just to get to the same point. He had already thought of that.<br /><br />He stopped to walk and told me to go ahead. It was a long 3.4 miles to Big Bear Gate at 41.5 miles. But now I had single digit miles to the finish. Amazing!!!!<br /><br />Bort Meadows was a mere 2.6 miles away, but these miles were tough. The last gasp of major climbs seemed to completely sap what remains of my "speed." I hadn't been going very fast for the day, but this was the point where I felt like I started to struggle. <br /><br />Stan Jensen was still manning the aid station, of course. Another aid station worker was interested in my taped knee, and I explained the situation. I mentioned that my knee felt great, it was more my feet that were taking a beating; blisters and the top of my left foot. The worker mentioned that my shoes might be too tight in the toe box which oddly was a bit of a revelation for me. He later introduced himself as John Vonhof, the author of Fix Your Feet! <br /><br />I left Bort Meadows, with 5.8 more miles to go. This was a nice gradual downhill section, but the life had left me legs. It was late afternoon, and the air was starting to cool off. <br /><br />I spent as little time in Bass Cove as I could. I had about 1/3 left in each bottle, so I didn't bother to refill, but did eat a lot of watermelon to refuel. Just 2.9 miles to go!!! I could smell the barn, but my legs were not getting a resurrection. I didn't resort to a death march, but could still ultra-shuffle it, so I did. I was passed by a few runner all the same. This section was familiar; I've hiked it, I've run it; it was the home stretch for the Lake Chabot Trail challenge as well. I stopped doing math in my head to predict finish times. Darkness was setting in quickly, but it only made that finish line clock glow brighter. I choked up as I saw it. I toed the starting line with no expectation of a finish, but here I was!! <br /><br />I crossed the line to find that the official photographer had gone, a my friend, Joe Swenson, was snapping pics instead! Official finishing time: 12:35:05.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/TLvPkn656MI/AAAAAAAACvU/tgLjlsRQvoo/s400/67619_166423356701326_100000009888295_567371_6506439_n.jpg"></center><br /><br />This was my proudest finish to date. I started the year off barely able to do a two miles at a time to this, a 50 miler, on training which was probably more suitable for a half-marathon. Not just any 50 miler, but the most challenging course I've done. I have chickened out of races in the past (Lake Sonoma 50M last year for example), and this experience has left me more courageous. <br /><br />I really enjoyed seeing friends all day, but it was very precious at the finish line. Darshan Thaker was there, Diane's pacer for the last 13 miles, and he graciously held my finish-line swag as I grabbed a burger from the Firetrails Cafe. Hao showed me where the keg was. Mark Tanaka was still there with his kids, despite finishing hours before me, excited that I made it the entire distance. Leigh and her husband were there cheering on finishers.The runner I had left after Skyline Gate came up to me to announce that he had finished! Diane joined us, after a quick change. Todd Wong, with Miki pacing, squeaked in under 13 hours to adoring fans, completing his first 50 mile race. <br /><br />I wanted to hang out longer, but didn't want to hold up Joe who was expected at home. I had a pile of Canadian confectionaries for him in my truck. I started searching all my pockets, to find my truck key missing, which I suspect I lost the key when I called my wife. That was over 20 miles ago; that key was GONE. Joe waited, while my wife came to my rescue, packed up the kids and delivered a key. <br /><br />I got home, and finally pulled off my shoes and socks to find a mangled toe that had blistered on both sides, and a toenail that wouldn't survive another week. Will not be using those shoes for such a distance again (I'll probably try MT101's in the same size or larger). The top of my foot was swollen, and an angry red. Quads burned hotly, and my hamstrings were very sore. Heck, even my shoulders ached from carrying water bottles which I haven't really done in almost a year. It was all good. My muscles earned the break they would get, and I wouldn't stress the recover. I thanked them for carrying me further than expected of them.<br /> <br /><center><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/TLiq0CqXqsI/AAAAAAAACtk/glD_AN5wh2M/s400/IMG_0935.JPG"><br><br /><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/TLiq1PK9ILI/AAAAAAAACto/xvG3YGho4ZE/s400/IMG_0936.JPG"></centeR><br /><br />Thank you, Ann and Carl, and the multitude of volunteers who put on this fantastic event. It truly was an all day trail party, and an appropriate venue to return to ultra-running. Thanks to Stu Kershner, my physical therapist, for putting me on the path to recovery.<br /><br /><iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/52638530'></iframe>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-25491993993840533652010-09-30T11:20:00.000-07:002010-09-30T14:45:50.132-07:00Negotiations<iframe width='465' height='548' frameborder='0' src='http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/51062224'></iframe><br /><br />My body catches on quick to what's happening. I'm trying to be all nonchalant about it. <br /><br />"Hey, we're only out for a nice casual 12 mile run, don't worry, we can even go slow."<br /><br />"TWELVE MILES IS ONE AND A HALF MILES LONGER THAN YOU'VE DONE ALL YEAR." <br /> <br />"Yeah, I know, but we're not even at mile 5 yet. We usually do at least 6 each time we go out, and you don't have a problem with it."<br /><br />"WHAT DID I HEAR YOU SAY EARLIER? IF THIS GOES WELL, YOU'LL SIGN UP FOR FIRETRAILS. YOU DO KNOW THAT'S IN A WEEK AND A HALF."<br /><br />"C'mon, it'll be fine."<br /><br />"LOOK, YOU'VE BEEN EASY ON ME, I'VE BEEN EASY ON YOU, WHY THE HELL DO YOU WANT TO CHANGE THAT?"<br /><br />"It'll be a good time, isn't it always?"<br /><br />"A GOOD TIME? DON'T YOU REMEMBER THE DEATH MARCH ON OUR FIRST 50K???"<br /><br />"Hey, we got to see the sunrise and the sunset in the Headlands. That was nice, no?"<br /><br />"OUR LAST MARATHON, WE WERE REDUCED TO A SHUFFLING PILE OF INFLAMMED JOINTS AND QUIVERING MUSCLE."<br /><br />"4:45 wasn't that bad of time, considering how slow we were. Hey, if we do that twice, we can get a sub 11 hour 50 mile finish, easy."<br /><br />"DON'T YOU REMEMBER WHAT IT'S LIKE NOT TO HAVE CARTILAGE UNDER THAT KNEE CAP????"<br /><br />"Owwww! Geeze stop that. You haven't done that in months, what's going on?"<br /><br />"AND HOW ABOUT THIS? REMEMBER WHAT DEAD QUADS FEEL LIKE? OR CRAMPING CALVES???"<br /><br />"Yeow! Ok, but it's almost 90 degrees, and we haven't eaten anything today. We probably just need calories and electrolytes. Thanks for the reminder, I'll be better at it on race day."<br /><br />"HAHA! NO YOU'RE GOING TO WALK THIS RUN IN."<br /><br />"No, we can do this, stop being silly. Ok, I promise we'll take a break tomorrow. An easy short run? And next week, just casual runs, ok? We'll walk to the water fountain and then run."<br /><br />"DON'T BE STUPID, YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN DO 40 MORE MILES OF THIS?"<br /><br />"Look at SD100. We shuffled a good 55 miles of that after the knee went early."<br /><br />"BUT WHY DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?"<br /><br />"Look, we've been rather comfortable, don't you miss that sense of adventure? Saying what the hell, and doing something unreasonable, knowing there's not going to be any shame in failure, but hoping that with perseverance we can end the day heroically?"<br /><br />"WHY NOT JUST DO THE MARATHON. THAT'LL BE HARD ENOUGH. MORE THAN TWICE THIS RUN."<br /><br />"Yeah, what if I get to the finish line and realize, hey we could have done this twice, easy!"<br /><br />"YOU'RE CRAZY. YOU'RE GOING TO DESTROY THE KNEE."<br /><br />"We don't need another shirt. And that wine glass will probably just be dropped some day. It's only $15 more to sign up for the 50 miler. Look, just get me to Lone Oak, and we'll plan on DNFing with dignity there. Maybe we'll feel ok, and decide to make an ultra of it."<br /><br />"LONE OAK? THAT'S IT?"<br /><br />"That's all I expect, everything else is bonus. Lone Oak."<br /><br />"ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS?"<br /><br />"No. Let's decide tomorrow. We're almost done."<br /><br />"I LIKE HOW YOU'VE NOT BEEN RUNNING ANY HILLS."Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-31037591622941818772010-06-11T21:24:00.001-07:002010-07-07T11:15:13.909-07:00The RESET Button Part IOk, , it's been over one year since I've posted. It's not because I've been completely inactive, I suppose I've done a 50k (2009 Hunter S Thompson Fear and Loathing), a marathon (2009 California International Marathon), a half-marathon (2009 Rock and Roll San Jose Half Marathon) and a 12k (2010 Bay to Breakers) since then. But all along I felt a rapid, and depressing decline in running ability. It started off with back of the knee pain when I wasn't running, and then felt like I just couldn't recover from runs, even with rest, decrease in intensity or mileage. Finally at California International Marathon, it became painfully apparent that something was wrong. My Rock and Roll Half marathon performance was ok, I eeked out a 1:40, which is much slower than my PR the year before of 1:33, but a time I still consider respectable, since I had been battling sprained or torn calves all summer. My CIM first half split was 2 hours, and I felt nowhere as good as I did after R&R, just a couple of months before! After that it was a surprising and frustrating grind just to finish in 4:45, my worst time ever, and an hour longer than I predicted I would take. I stubbornly continued to run after that, but it's only a mile or two at a time as my knee fights back. Finally one day, I bind it with an Ace bandage, and churn out what used to be my a regular mid-week run of 7.5 miles.<br /><br />My knee was a swollen mess, with chunky bits. When I put weight on it, skin bulges around it as fluid shifts around. This isn't right. I finally relent, and see my doctor who recommends a MRI, and the resulting report reads like retirement.<br /><ul>Exam Date: 01/18/2010 <br />Examination: MRI OF THE RIGHT KNEE <br />Indication: Knee pain. Rule out meniscal tear. <br />Comparison: Radiographs dated 01/13/2010. <br />Technique: 4 mm sagittal proton density, 4 mm sagittal <br />T2, 4 mm coronal T1, 4 mm coronal, T2 fat-sat, 5 mm axial proton <br />density, 5 mm axial T2 fat-sat. <br />Report: The anterior and posterior cruciate ligaments <br />appear intact. There is mild sprain of the medial collateral <br />ligament. The lateral collateral ligament appears intact. There <br />is an irregular predominantly radial tear present involving the <br />posterior horn of the medial meniscus near the free edge. <br />Lateral meniscus appears intact. Medial and lateral patellar <br />retinacula and quadriceps and patellar tendons also appear <br />intact. There is advanced grade 4 chondromalacia at the <br />patellofemoral joint as well as mild to moderate chondromalacia <br />at the medial joint compartment. Large knee joint effusion and <br />small Baker’s cyst is noted. <br /> <br />IMPRESSION: <br />1. Focal tear of the posterior horn of the medial meniscus. <br />2. Mild sprain of the medial collateral ligament. <br />3. Advanced grade 4 chondromalacia of the patellofemoral joint <br />compartment as well as mild to moderate chondromalacia of the <br />medial joint compartment. <br />4. Large knee joint effusion and small Baker’s cyst. <br /></ul><br /><br />Man, a search on "grade 4 chondromalacia" just depressed me. Grade 4 is where the cartilage is completely worn away. I was referred to an orthapedic surgeon, and get to see my MRI first hand. One section of my knee cap looked like I had torn a flap of cartilage off and it was just hanging there. Other sections had no cartilage,and cysts had formed on the knee cap (looks like little craters that have formed in the bone). The surgeon recommended orthoscopic surgery to clean the surfaces. To address the chondromalacia, a lateral release could be performed, where the tissue on one side could be cut to move the knee cap over and give it more space. A non surgical alternative would by synovial (artificial joint fluid) injections. He said physical therapy wasn't really an option, obviously I was in shape already. He declared that if he could get me to running twice a week, it would be a victory.<br /><br />Yikes. My wife thought there was too much unanswered, and after talking to people (including Catra and Mike Palmer when I showed up to spectate at the Fremont Fat Ass 50k instead of run it), I decided to get a second opinion. This time with Warren King, who is the orthapedic surgeon to the Oakland Raiders as part of his impressive resume. The appointment is extremely fast, as I'm mostly handled by his nurse practitioner. Again, orthoscopy is highly recommended, this time, he says most of my pain is probably due to the torn meniscus. Again, the lateral release is recommended. I ask about the synovial injections, and he says it's not really a solution. I ask about the reason for the condition, and he says it's probably lifelong maltracking. Mentally, I begin to to prepare for surgery.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs261.ash1/18845_1335691110403_1174843364_31013761_8303030_n.jpg"></p><small><i>Catra and Mike at FFA50k</i></small></center><br /><br /><a href="http://rajeevtherunner.blogspot.com">Rajeev Patel</a> turned 50 in February, and his friends threw together a surprise birthday party and 50k run! I had to show up and support this person I consider one amazing running ambassador. He talks to me about my lack of running, and is supportive, relates his own tales of lameness, and how he supports exhausting non-surgical options first. A very common perspective, also shared by Catra and Mike when I talked to them a couple of weeks previous.<br /><br />Now I got to say, even though I've only been an ultra runner for a short period of time, it's definitely become a big part of my identity. To suddenly find the ability to run taken from me so suddenly is incredibly depressing. I'm able to fill the social aspect of it by crashing local runs, or even better, volunteering. But I miss that crunching sound of shoes against dirt, the smells of a trail, the physical exertion, and pleasant exhaustion. Meanwhile, I'm gaining weight, and I feel terribly out of shape. A snowboarding trip confirms that I'm not the same as I was a year ago. I can't even bounce back from falls like I used to. I've gotten soft. Somewhere in the middle of the mess, Tahoe Rim Trail began to sell out, and TRT100 was my back-up hundred to Western States, so almost at the last minute I sign up for the 50 miler (there's the possibility to upgrade to the 100 later). How do I address my knee and still have time to trail for a July 50M/100M?<br /><br />Eventually, I come to a decision. Physical therapy first. Surgery only if it fails.Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-58049981529437020842009-06-09T21:20:00.000-07:002012-11-02T11:01:18.296-07:00San Diego 100 - The Agony of the Feet<b>June 6th, 2009 5:59am</b><br /><br />The morning chill hangs in the air, as I mentally record the temperature knowing full well I'll still be running 24 hours later. One hundred and twenty five runners gather before a banner that marks the start and finish line to the San Diego 100 Mile Endurance Run at Camp Cuyamaca. This site also serves as a home base, as we pass through at mile 19.3, 50, 69.3 (for simplicity, this will be referred to as 20, 50, and 70). Scott Mills stands to address the participants; blond, tanned, an obvious trail runner. He welcomes us to the race, reminds us to thank our volunteers and gives us the one minute warning. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/RfbM-1eyU5xKAcIA3hCt0A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si33NE5LOFI/AAAAAAAAAEg/hL0tBGx58Os/s400/IMG_5005.JPG" /></a></center><br />I'm finally relaxed about this whole damn thing, because there's nothing left to do but run. Undertaking new longer distances can certainly be unsettling, especially for someone with who's simply more persistent than talented. But a 100 miles feels like clobbering "long distances" with a bulldozer. I spent the last month pre-taper wondering if my training would be enough. Ever since <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2009/04/ruth-anderson-09-targets-vs-goals.html">Ruth Anderson</a>, or perhaps even <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2009/04/american-river-50m.html">American River</a> my long runs weren't easy, weren't as long, and my legs never felt fresh. As a new-ish Ultra-Runner, perhaps I should have allowed myself more recovery after AR. Oh well, I tried to tell myself that I'm simply learning how to run tired without having to do it with a lot of mileage, and just need to make sure the taper does its job. I was still having fun; those long runs included part of the Silver State 50k/50M course in Reno (at higher altitude than SD), a wet romp in the East Bay hills with Kap'n Kirk, and retracing <a href="http://ultrailnaka.blogspot.com">Mark Tanaka</a>'s foot commute by pilfering one of his Motionbased runs and by turning it into a course on my Garmin along the Garin trail late at night after work. I was counting on them to give me a taste of what race day(s)/night would be like.<br /><br />Once the taper hit, my focus shifted more towards preparation. Too late, I soon realized, since any gear/techniques I'm considering won't be properly tested pre-race day. I knew small things, like blisters, or bruised toes, turn into big things, and finally bought <a href="http://www.zombierunner.com/store/categories/books_and_magazines/product36.html">Fixing Your Feet</a>. The book stresses to reduce calluses, and even talks about pedicures, so I decide to gave it a go. With my daughter in tow, we hit the nail salon. I figured, since I'm there, I'll go for some colour, with everyone in range thinking I'm crazy. Uh, potential hundred mile runner here, wasn't that evidence enough? Besides, they will probably just fall off anyways.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/MbEULXVfeH9NWpiKXKZ5F9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-LD7QxDm_AFg/UJQIWnrLvCI/AAAAAAAAID8/DiDKQWccII4/s400/4676_1172491590517_5650282_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><br /></center><br /><br />Early in the race week, the weather report was calling for thunderstorms on race day. I decided I should have a back-up pair of shoes if it gets wet, and maybe some more socks, so I made a run (not on foot) to <a href="http://www.zombierunner.com">Zombie Runner</a>. They didn't have my size in my shoe in stock, but I decided to go half a size larger anyways, and keep it on hand, while hoping I won't need them. I grabbed some Drymax socks because of all the praise lavished on them, and a <a href="http://www.drymaxsocks.com/">cool demo on the web</a>. <br /><br />About this time, I had a cold coming on. !!! After running American River with one, I know it was not going to stop me, but it was annoying as hell. I tried to convince myself that this is just psychosomatic reaction to pre-race stress, or perhaps just the taper itself, but the bottom line was any extra sleep I managed went to fighting the cold and not towards feeling more rested.<br /><br />The day before the race, the geek part of me had me flying into LAX instead of SAN, just so I could integrate a visit to <a href="http://www.tonynowak.com">Tony Nowak's</a> factory. I'm a hard-core Indiana Jones geek, and Tony was the maker of the film jackets for the last movie (as well as a host of other movies like GI Joe, Terminator, etc). Not only do his jackets have geek-appeal, but they're phenomenonally constructed, made of some really fine leathers, and I get to see and try on many of his offerings.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ibIl7P8vNYGsMtyBLcD-bA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si3mcySu4JI/AAAAAAAAAC8/GK7Wg_StIB0/s288/IMG_4988.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4CQva_zypVm1V2YzrOeMIQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si3mudrM5pI/AAAAAAAAADc/azi2LUPNgis/s288/IMG_4977.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />Really fun stuff, great to talk to the man himself who is gracious, genuine, and fascinating, and you know, like try on the proto jacket Harrison Ford tried on for fit, or a copy of an actual Raiders of the Lost Ark jacket (Harry's definitely got longer arms than me), but I knew the entire time that I should have been "ten-toes up" and resting up for the big day! <br /><br /><center><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/J4LJpvmxOxAuMC4-qi1yVtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-mYsUeA4bLz4/UJQI5v92o6I/AAAAAAAAIEU/hUZQ9L4NS3w/s400/375_1066215013669_9047_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><br><small><i>As an aside, my bib number, which was chosen by me happens to coincide with the limited edition number of my Crystal Skull jacket that Tony had made for me last year; #9 (for Kayley's birth month) 8 (Mason's birth month)</i></small></center><br /><br />I stayed longer than I should have, shorter than I wanted, and with LA traffic, completely missed the chance to check-in for the race the day before. But at least I had scoped out the route to the start. After checking into my hotel, I grabbed my only meal since breakfast from Carl's Jr, and a club sandwich from a deli in a liquor store for breakfast, a gallon of water, and a Guinness.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mY3_ltIgiPn9yPHSczib1w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si3261R0_kI/AAAAAAAAAD8/0Pmyr0WIfMQ/s400/IMG_4996.JPG" /></a> <br><i><small>Not pictured here is the large diet coke that I sucked down because I also didn't drink all day</small></i></center><br /><br />It was around 8 'o clock, so I ate hurriedly as I organized my gear for the next day, and crawled into bed at 9. It took me about 2.5 hours to fall asleep as I was distracted by the sound of the highway, and the incessant pounding of my heart in my ears from caffeine consumption and eating so much so late. That was further exacerbated by waking up at 1am, and taking another hour and a half to get back to sleep. I was very thankful when 4am arrived and I could let go of the sleep game.<br /><br />With one minute to go, none of that matters any more, nothing I can do about it now. I think about how we (or is it just me) often come up with excuses before the event to justify a poor showing. But not one of these could justify a DNF. And in a hundred mile race, there is never a poor showing for finishing. Is there?<br /><br />Scott Mills counts down, the air horn blows, and we take off running. Faster than I expected, but it's comfortable, so I stick with the crowd. <br /><br />Hints of blue break through the overcast sky as the sun rises, and already the air is warming up. The course begins on a nice fire road that's pretty flat, as it weaves its way towards the hills. I begin to sweat from exertion, and from being overdressed. I'm wearing a t-shirt with <a href="http://www.moeben.com">Moeben sleeves</a> from Ruth Anderson, and my Sugoi Helium jacket, and think I should have ditched the jacket. Oh well, the thing weighs about 3 ounce, packs up nicely, so I stuff it in my pocket. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5trpI5Qn9Ye8IO1rWDNaQQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si33VDR83XI/AAAAAAAAAE0/dsguZZ9UUns/s400/IMG_5010.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />I meet Cecilia, Eric and Ric on the trail and we find that we're all first timers to the distance. We're all, of course, hoping for a sub-24 hour finish, but the most important part is finishing. Well, maybe finishing healthy. MAYBE. Ric talks about his previous attempt to hit the 100 mark at SF One Day, where he stopped at 82 miles. He admits that he's not a trail runner and hopes the course will be kind. I silently worry for him. He declares that he doesn't care if he's the last one to cross the finish line, he's not giving up at this race. Cecilia and Eric stop for a walk break, explaining their 25 min run/5 min walk plan. Ric decides to keep running, and while I completely agree with this strategy, I have a schedule to keep through, and soon pull away.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/v3CS8uuc5RkzzF9g2z8ctQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si33dGYjPBI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/nERoZz-Lh2c/s400/IMG_5016.JPG" /></a><br /><i><small>Cecilia (#50), Eric (#51), Ric (#8)</small></i></center><br /><br />Ah, the schedule. The truth is, I crafted a detailed plan that operated under the premise that I could leave the 50 mile stop 11 hours into the race, and complete the second half in 13 hours. It didn't allow for too much of a slow down, but I couldn't risk going too much faster for the first half. Not only does finishing in 24 hours mean that you ran 100 miles in a single day (cool!), but there's a different finisher's buckle (silver vs. bronze). I figure if I'm going to have a target beyond just finishing, 24 hours should be it. It just seemed like any other time (expect perhaps sub-30) isn't as significant. I might suffer in the second half, but I'm pretty sure I can gut out 30-50 miles if need be, if things go wrong.<br /><br />Well, a couple miles in, and I'm doing pretty awesome. Eventually, the fire trails turn to single track that gently ascends. The surface turns out to be quite rocky, and I stub my foot at one point rather audibly, but catch myself before I fall. I say something about getting it over with before I have to do this section at night.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yH3hwnm-ORutU4NBz1UY8g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si33wNXJyYI/AAAAAAAAAF0/D3Ti2bptsBo/s400/IMG_5025.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />The trail has climbed about 1000 feet, and the view is breathtaking. The hill isn't as bad as I expected looking at the elevation profile. I analyzed the elevation profile in great detail before race day, comparing it to familiar runs that I've done, so I could be prepared for the climbs. Not as good as first-hand knowledge of the course, it's still fun playing armchair-ultrarunner. I'm pleasantly surprised to find all the climbs and descents are gentler than I had predicted.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.members.cox.net/sandiego100/2008SD100profile.JPG" width=480></center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/8l3jBztP5mYMmg1z-JTYQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si339X176BI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/6rdL-G_q7L4/s400/IMG_5031.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />I arrive at the first aid station, Sunrise Highway, 5.9 miles completed, in maybe 65 minutes. The next section starts off really nicely, with some fun downhills, and occasional climbs. I should restrain myself, but decide to have some fun as I tackle the downhills with a little more gusto. It feels like we're skipping along mountaintops, and I guess we are. I soon catch up to Linda McFadden, who lets me pass, but with whom I'll trade the lead with for many miles until she completely drops me. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1dFntORvuisFZy4ybE4nug?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si34VPRJfTI/AAAAAAAAAHA/KdYQFs9TuOA/s400/IMG_5042.JPG" /></a><br><i><small>Linda McFadden</small></i></center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/haYwrctZJg7m20XOI1YN2A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si34hH3J9NI/AAAAAAAAAHU/-mB7hXjpqNg/s400/IMG_5047.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />I catch up with Ric again and he takes my favourite photo of the day. He lets me pass, as he is taking the downhills a bit more cautiously.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/x1tSVsm-Wk4zZhwRkufiCw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si34rrYNlcI/AAAAAAAAAHk/gNooyWd2y_w/s400/IMG_5051.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xgIMRI7UDoxEnxOQiGN8og?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si34pOw0OhI/AAAAAAAAAHg/xoo2mIaTfc4/s400/IMG_5050.JPG" /></a><br><i><small>Ric Munoz</small></i></center><br /><br />The wind picks up and is frigidly cold. I'm not feeling so bad about having my jacket and sleeves with me now! At one point, we cross through an unsheltered valley, and the wind just hits me in the chest. I declare "This sucks!" to the runner ahead of me, and quickly correct myself; "Actually, it BLOWS." My right knee gets a really strange sudden pain going up a small hill, that worries me. I wonder if it's from the cold. I slow down a bit, never quite taking a real walking break, and eventually it goes away, never to bother me again. Phew. I realize that I'm starting to get really hungry, and I'm surprised, considering that I ate half a large club sandwich for breakfast (man, that deli in that liquor store in Alpine sure knows how to make a good sandwich). I also realize I'm not carrying any gels, or drinking enough water. Once I start drinking water, I can't get enough of the stuff.<br /><br />I'm thankful to arrive at the Pedro Fages aid station at 12.6 miles, at this point. The aid station has a canopy with a wall that provides us some respite from the wind. The volunteers look even colder, and I'm very grateful for their presence. I eat PB&J sandwiches, chips, potatoes, and various other foods to refuel, and start to feel better. One runner pulls into the aid station and asks for help opening his drop bag, because his fingers don't work any more. I make a mental note to grab my gloves when I get back to Camp Cuyamaca, just in case.<br /><br />The next section transitions us from rocks:<br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/-TdU-QD2tAngBZryp8QGIQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si34xSEK88I/AAAAAAAAAH0/lii6InbUos4/s400/IMG_5054.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />To sand:<br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/LrD4xmRNSxhTqUztJBGSXQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si342Q-QJ9I/AAAAAAAAAH8/if4EfceLB_c/s400/IMG_5056.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />Charred remains of trees scratch the cloudy sky, like a reverse of chalk on a blackboard. California's second largest fire ripped through here in 2003, and it must have been fierce, examining the extent to which some of these trees have been burnt through. This stretch takes us back to Camp Cuyamaca, which is encouraging. A runner, Hannah, catches up to me and starts talking. She asks what my target time is, and I say 24 hours, which takes her aback, "I must be going too fast then!" I mumble something about thinking my target isn't going to happen. She's a young runner, but more experienced than me, and on her second hundred. She says that her favourite race distance is 50 miles, I say mine is the half-marathon, not jokingly, but because it's the truth!<br /><br />I'm starting to feel tired, with 80 miles left to go. I admit as much when an aid station worker asks how I'm feeling when I get to the Camp (mile 19.3). He looks worried, and says some words of encouragement. <br /><br />I proceed to mishandle this aid station. I drop the camera off in the car (it didn't work in my pocket, so I actually carried it in my hand the whole time), and start to leave without changing out my GPS watch (I had borrowed my brother's watch, along with mine, and would charge one while using the other). And then as I leave, I remember I wanted to eat the second half of my sandwich from breakfast. Then when I get to my car, I remembered I threw the sandwich out. I remember how cold it was coming into Pedro Fages, so I grab some gloves. I think I spent 8 minutes at this station, and certainly didn't need to. Anyways, eventually I get my crap together, and I finally head out for the next loop.<br /><br /><center><iframe width="425" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=http:%2F%2Ftrail.motionbased.com%2Ftrail%2Fkml%2Fepisode.kml%3FepisodePkValues%3D8415409&ie=UTF8&ll=32.9688,-116.536807&spn=0.083758,0.045873&t=h&output=embed"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/episode/view.mb?episodePk.pkValue=8415409" style="color:#0000FF;text-align:left">Motionbased Report for the 1st lap (0-20 miles)</a></small></center><br /><br /><b>June 6th, 2009 9:55am (3:55 since race start)</b><br /><br />The 30 mile loop starts with a 1000 foot climb up to Paso Picacho. It's over 4 miles; steep but not too crazy, and winds through some vegetation so we're not too exposed to sun or wind. It's warm, and I think I'm totally stupid for grabbing gloves and not ditching my jacket. My schedule calls for 15 minute miles in this section, and that's pretty challenging to do in this section during a hundred mile run, but I manage ok. <br /><br />I pull into Paso Picacho, get my bottles refilled, and some food. I'm relieved to see other runners hit this aid station looking pretty wiped out. Cecilia and Eric arrive at the aid station just as I check out. <br /><br />The next section to Big Bend is the easiest of the course, with a nice downhill cruise, without too many rocks. A nice break between the two hilliest sections of the course. Somewhere along the course, I come across a pair of rangers riding horses towards me. As it's happened before, if you throw something a little unfamiliar into the scene while I'm running, I somehow get distracted, and am prone to catching my feet on rocks. This is what happened here, my little toe catches a rock and I do a spectacular fall, but manage to catch myself before hitting the ground, but do drop my water bottle. I recover it, and continue, after letting the horses pass. My bottle is filthy.<br /><br />Big Bend is a friendly aid station, and I drink extra water before refilling my bottles for the steepest, and longest climb that's about to come. It's not that bad, as I find out, but it is tedious. It's misty, cool, and it feels like we're climbing into the clouds. I pass a few runners hiking up the hill, and I'm glad when we get some flats so I can run again. Once I hit the peak, I ride gravity down. It's still a ways before the next aid station, and I love the sign that indicates there's just 0.4 miles to Milk Ranch aid station (keep on mooving!) Milk Ranch volunteers are awesome, and one of them actually runs back and forth to grab runner's bottles to get them filled. The electrolyte drink varies from aid station to aid station; Heed, Gatorade, and Accelerade. I've made myself electrolyte drink agnostic because I don't want to be high maintenance (similarly with Gels, heck, all aid station food) but I think it's here where I have my 2/3 empty bottle of Gatorade filled with Accelerade. Accelerade is my least favourite offering, and I'll tell you right now, it doesn't improve with a splash of Gatorade.<br /><br />The next section looks like it should be a nice downhill cruise all the way to Sweetwater aid station according to the profile chart. I'm chasing Linda McFadden again, but for the last time. The miles and time on my feet are taking their toll, and I'm definitely slowing down. <br /><br />This trail is rocky, and I'm not really used to it. I realize I'm extremely spoiled in the Bay Area to almost exclusively run on well groomed, lovely trails. Or at least the same well groomed trails over and over again, maybe I should branch out more. I have a little trouble navigating the terrain, when I start getting a sharp pain in my left knee. It eases up but continues to bother me, unlike the one on the right knee that went away. Damn, my knees were doing so well during training too.<br /><br />I come across another runner, Andi, and I strike up a conversation. Andi's seems to be struggling here, and we stick together for the next section. Her Tennessee accent (although she now lives in Southern California) and her tendency to drop F-bombs help to pass the time. She remarks that she'd hate to fall and have to deal with all the red ants on the trail, which cracks me up because I had thought of the same thing earlier. A very talented athlete (certainly faster than me, across all distances), Andi had even done a sub-10 hour 50 mile finish on this same course, a couple of months previous (the PCT50 mile run was diverted to the San Diego 100 course because of a tragic helicopter crash). I remark that that's a bit of a puzzle when it comes to ultras. Hitting the marathon mark on a 50 miler, or a 100 miler, and I feel almost as tired as I do doing a marathon, about 45 minutes faster. I guess sometimes it's just the distance. I say something about just hitting the 50 mile mark, and then seeing how fast we can extend our mileage PR.<br /><br />We reach Sweetwater, Andi's husband is there crewing for her, and she needs a some time to regroup. I fuel up for the next section (the longest on the course, 7.6 miles), with gusto. Man, the watermelon really hits the spot. I'm done refueling, but Andi's not quite ready, so I head up the hill alone. My knee continues to degrade, and I struggle to find a running form that will save it. I also notice my stubbed toe is getting rather painful, and assume that it's swollen and turned into a blister. I know I'm slipping from my schedule, a sub 11 hour 50 mile split is in danger but I start realizing a 13 hour second 50 miler is highly unlikely. I begin to hear voices. Soon, Cecilia and Eric come through, with Andi in tow, who is in much better spirits. I join the fun, and we're making great progress, following the 25/5 plan. My knee and feet aren't doing great, but it helps to have company so I stay with the group. At one point, I stop for a bio break, and I decide to crank the pace (like low 7 min/miles) catching up. I usually find running fast is less stress on my joints because my form is better, which is true, but it is hell on blisters (and can't be sustained, at least by me)! My toe starts to go numb, and I'm really looking forward to seeing if my blisters can be drained, and patched. And maybe see if my size 11 shoes will work wonders. These 10.5's are certainly feeling too small right now. Cecilia and Eric have pacers joining them for the last 50 miles, and Andi says she and I should stick together if we can, but I'm wondering if I can keep up. Finally, we come across signs Camp Cuyamaca, and pull into the 50 mile mark at around 11:20 (5:20 pm).<br /><br />I go to the car to do a full change. I switch from shorts to tights, put on a long-sleeved shirt, and grab three jackets (a nylon shell, the Sugoi Helium jacket I've had all day, and some clearance track-jacket from Target) and change out my water bottles for a hydration pack. I pull off my shoes, to examine my toes, and notice that my feet are just filthy. I'm thinking the whole lube on the feet thing doesn't work for me. It just attracts dirt and allows it to grind into my skin; didn't I learn anything at American River (I thought using a DIFFERENT lube would solve the problem)? My little toe on my right foot is swollen, and blistered, but it looks like I may have popped it in my mini-sprint on the last section. I grab a clean pair of socks, my size 11 shoes, and head to the Search and Rescue table to get patched up. It feels rather risky trying brand new shoes, with 50 miles to go, but my toes enjoy the extra space, and the old pair is definitely not working for me.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/y59wsWCDPl86Q_mcLWnD3g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si36eGZr0QI/AAAAAAAAAI8/B0ZZWbwgGW4/s288/IMG_5060.JPG" /></a><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/CID-g-MX_0ZTGoXXhyrdTA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/SjBlr-O1dqI/AAAAAAAAAL4/m_wHaEoRIdM/s288/IMG_5059.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />They clean off my blisters, and duct tape my little toes, and my big toes, which haven't blistered yet, but are experiencing hot spots. They feel much much better, and I thank them profusely before heading out. Andi is long gone, but as I'm about to leave, I see Ric drop into a chair, seeming out of breath. He says that the last section was really difficult, but he's going out for more. I say something about the second half being easier; "We know what to expect and don't have to go as fast any more." I doubt I'm encouraging, but I seriously hope he manages to pull this feat off. I head out as he starts gathering up warmer clothes. I leave shortly after the 12 hour mark, I can't believe this stop took me 40-50 minutes!, but having my feet in better shape is worth it. <br /><br /><center><iframe width="425" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=http:%2F%2Ftrail.motionbased.com%2Ftrail%2Fkml%2Fepisode.kml%3FepisodePkValues%3D8415255&ie=UTF8&ll=32.94151,-116.577575&spn=0.092777,0.065334&t=h&output=embed"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/8415255" style="color:#0000FF;text-align:left">Motionbased Report for the 2nd lap (20-30 miles)</small></a></center><br /><br /><b>June 6th, 2009 6:12 pm (12:12 since race start)</b><br /><br />It's still bright out, so I leave my light packed. Suzanna Bon is returning from the 20 mile loop as I'm heading out. Wow! She goes on to finish in 19:32, and sets the female course record! <br /><br />My feet are holding together pretty well, and I'm enjoying the peaceful twilight. I've done a few night runs, but this feels different, because I know now that I'm going to run all the way through to daylight. It gives me a real feeling of adventure, and that's why I'm out here. When I reach the Sunrise Highway aid station, there's wonderful campfire going. They have hot dogs here, and man is it good! You don't get food this good without building up an appetite.<br /><br />I try not to dawdle, thank the volunteers, and then head out for a section that I anticipate to be windy, based on the morning's experience. Boy, is it ever. The wind is cold, fierce, and probably the hardest I've experienced in my short running career (<a href ="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-at-lake.html">Ruth Anderson '08</a> was notable for it, but this is up a few notches). Wow. Eventually, the light fades enough that I need my headlamp. The trail is now marked with chem-lights as well as ribbons, and I spot other headlights bobbing up and down further up the trail. I begin thinking of the chem-lights as lanterns, and the headlights as torches, and I think of us as questers on a journey in an inhospitable landscape. I feel like Frodo marching to Mordor, thinking man, he had to do that all without shoes, I can do this race!<br /><br />I begin writing off my knee. I can sort of run on it, but I wonder if I'll harm it by forcing the issue. I notice that my walk with purpose is well under 15 minute/miles, so I decide to stick with it. <br /><br />The way to Pedro Fages is about as cold as I expected, but at least I'm prepared. I'm offered coffee, and chicken soup, and take both as I pause to warm up a bit. Then it's time to head back out.<br /><br />The wind is calmer on this section back to Camp Cuyamaca, and actually seems to go by fairly quickly. My feet are holding up ok, so I just grab a spare pair of socks for later, some food, and exchange my dying headlamp (brand new batteries, but they didn't last long), and grab a working one. I try to keep this stop short, and get my butt back onto the trail before I get comfortable. <br /><br /><center><iframe width="425" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=http:%2F%2Ftrail.motionbased.com%2Ftrail%2Fkml%2Fepisode.kml%3FepisodePkValues%3D8464648&ie=UTF8&ll=32.969059,-116.536807&spn=0.083127,0.045861&t=h&output=embed"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/8464648" style="color:#0000FF;text-align:left">Motionbased Report for the 3rd lap (50-70 miles)</a></small></center><br /><br /><b>June 6th, 2009 11:35pm (17:35 since race start)</b><br /><br />The climb up to Paso Picacho is definitely harder the second time. My legs are fatigued, it feels not so much for running, but just being on them all day. I think about all the other 100 mile runs I want to do, and how much hillier most of them are. I've got to train better, get stronger, and plan better for those! But there's still this race to finish.<br /><br />I reach the Paso Picacho aid station, and I look to refuel. They have pasta, it's cold, and not all that satisfying, but I'm not one to complain. I down a cup of strong instant coffee, use the rest room (woo, electric hand dryer!), and get back on the course.<br /><br />I try to enjoy the cruise downhill to Big Bend, but downhills are tough on tired legs, especially with a sore knee. Time starts moving really differently; seconds feel like minutes, but a couple of hours passes quickly. I think it's just the effort to keep moving is significant, but with darkness, landmarks and other things that would mark the passage of time are difficult to observe. I expected the night portion to feel lonely, but it's not so bad. Nocturnal toads, black beetles, and spotted owls keep me company.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/cPN_0YxUTSO1HHbq4W9yig?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si36mCYQ2eI/AAAAAAAAAJI/ulTaQXAANgQ/s400/IMG_5064.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />My feet are starting to feel like hamburger. In addition to the blisters I've had for hours, I'm developing new ones. As I hobble along at what I think is a good pace, another runner passes me walking faster. It isn't until afterwards that I realize that he's my Facebook friend, Jakob Herrmann. He mentions that he hurt his knee at mile 75. I say something about walking since mile 55. I catch up to him again at the Big Bend aid station, as he's changing in his car (he leaves Big Bend before I do, however).<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_M85b8hJA7mPYlBkGR5AwQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si36i9cmcnI/AAAAAAAAAJE/578ZKauHmDw/s288/IMG_5063.JPG" /></a><br><i>My little toe happens to be oozing through the fabric of my brand new shoe (not the spot at the front of the shoe though, that'd be really freaky, that's just water or something). I don't think I can return the shoes.</i></center><br /><br />I plop into a chair, as someone gets me a hot chocolate. I ask if they have duct tape, and they retrieve some from a volunteer's truck. I get to work covering my hot spots, as they tell me that the next section is very windy, and that at the next aid station it's about 20 degree colder. They tell me I've run 80.4 miles, and ask if I really want to finish the race. I'm bewildered, and say of course I am! My feet don't look as bad as they feel, but I think that's because they're covered in dirt. One of the volunteers goes so far to say she can't find any blisters, and perhaps I'm just being a big baby. I admit that it's a possibility. They have the grace to acknowledge that I'm looking alert and coherent, which feels like a good thing. I ask if they have anything to help heartburn, and ginger snap cookies are suggested. The volunteer points to a container on the table, and I proceed to take cookies out from an adjacent container. The statement of me being alert and coherent is quickly retracted. I say, "I'm sorry, but those are Oreo cookies you're pointed to!" Vindicated! (Although I forgot the cookies in the end!) After being patched up, I put on all the clothes I'm carrying and head up the hill in the blustery wind. I look back, and see cars stopping and leaving the aid station, and start wondering if they've manage to convince those behind me that their race is done.<br /><br />The weather is not so bad (I'm sure it was earlier, my slowness has timed the weather just right), but the climb is long, and I start feeling extremely tired and sleepy. <a href="http://365me.blogspot.com">Rick Gaston</a> had given me a bunch of caffeine pills and I take a couple now. Man, did I mention I'm suddenly extremely tired? I begin not walking straight, and I start looking for rocks, or hollowed out logs or other cozy looking shelters to take a nap. Actually, it doesn't have to be cozy. On top of that, my mouth feels like it's packed with cotton, and I'm getting heartburn whenever I drink or eat. But then darkness gives way to dawn, and with the rising sun, I start feeling better, and more awake. Finally I make the summit, and try to pick up speed on the downhill.<br /><br />I'm so glad to see the friendly volunteers at Milk Ranch. I get a quesadilla here, and get my hydration pack refilled. Only it's pointed out to me, I don't need it. I'm lectured on drinking water, and I say it's because of my heartburn. I'm given a stack of pretzels, and instructed to keep drinking, and munch on the pretzels, and get my butt out of the aid station as I do. It sounds like good advice so I do it.<br /><br />I'm trudging along now, it's not quite a death march yet, but I know I'm going slow. The sun continues to rise, and it feels fantastic. I shed some of my night time gear, and bask the warmth. I don't see another runner on this stretch, and I start thinking that I'm DFL. I swear, everyone behind me has dropped. My GPS watch dies on the way to Sweetwater (I had charged it when I dropped it off at mile 50, but left it on the whole time it was charging), and I think that I must be getting close, then I realize I don't recognize the trail at all. I also don't see any ribbons. I drop some F-bombs of my own, but continue on the trail in the hopes that I'm overreacting. I'm not lost at all, overreacted, F-bombs recanted. This race is really starting to feel long, but at the same time, I know I'll make it to the last aid station, and then it'll be obvious to me that I will finish.<br /><br /><center><iframe width="425" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=http:%2F%2Ftrail.motionbased.com%2Ftrail%2Fkml%2Fepisode.kml%3FepisodePkValues%3D8464631&ie=UTF8&ll=32.956983,-116.5843&spn=0.061817,0.051806&t=h&output=embed"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/8464631">Motionbased Report for the 4th lap (50-90.8 miles at which point the GPS died, my 24 hour distance was 86.6 miles)</a></small></center><br /><br />Finally, Sweetwater appears, and as I walk into the aid station, I find Andi in a chair, with her shoes off. She's so glad to see me still in the race, and says she was worried about me after we parted at 50 miles. She's suffering from blisters, and the helpful volunteers are trying to figure out how to get her back on the road. I refuel, and get my empty hydration pack (see, I was listening) refilled. I tell Andi to get it together, and to finish this race with me, but she says her husband's going to pace her for the last section and to go ahead. <br /><br />So I head out for the last stretch, and it sure is a bear. Long, tedious, I just want this race over!! The temperature continues to rise, but I don't mind. I'm hiking it when Andi comes with her husband, and she's <i>running</i>. I'm amazed, and impressed as I let her by, and continue my long march to the end. Eventually, I catch up to her again, and we joke about stuff, like I want her to pull ahead so I won't have to run through the last "river" crossing before the finish, like I said I would 50 miles ago. She pulls aside to rest a bit, but I've got new marching legs so I press on. Man, it's a long way. With my GPS watch out, I keep thinking I'm making more progress than I actually am, and I try to figure out ways to break down the distance. I meet a people who tell me it's about 4 miles away...hmmm...4 miles, that's probably the shortest training run I've done for this race. One person tells me it's 3 miles away, and I think about the <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2009/04/mission-city-5k-kayleys-first-5k.html">5K that Kayley and I did</a> in April. Shortly after that point, I really slow to a crawl. All the walking finally takes its toll. My right gluteus medius is thrashed, I think because while it might be used to running, it's not used to this much walking. I can usually move through pain, but at this point, my muscles feel done too. The next person tells me it's 1.75 miles, and it's all downhill. But the downhill doesn't help, it's just painful.<br /><br />One mile away, and I start getting passed by a pile of runners, including <a href="http://trailgirl.blogspot.com/">Catra Corbett</a> and Andy Kumeda. I try to rally for the finish, but I've got nothing. I try to tell myself, one mile that's like walk around the neighbourhood, and imagine myself doing just that. It's so hard to imagine. Finally, I see the finish line, and I cross that creek, soaking one of my shoes because I can't navigate it cleanly. I pop off the trail for the final, what 50 yards, and there's shouts and screams, as I approach. Everyone eventually stops as they realize there's still a significant portion of time for me to travel that final distance, and they have voices to save for other finishers. I see Scott chuckle, as I inch towards him. I say something about not having a need to go any faster at this point.<br /><br /><b>June 7th, 2009 11:00am</b><br /><br />I finally cross the finish line in 29:00:51, and I immediately thank Scott for putting on such a great race. He hugs me, laughs and hands me my buckle. I'm so glad it's over. Scott gives me a bottle of water, and I don't bother to sit, but make my way to the car before I can't any more. I climb into the driver's seat, and it feels sooo good. I take my shoes and socks off, and I'm rather surprised at the extent of my blisters. <br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WiyFRCUdP4NojtlRCDnE7A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si89LTysKYI/AAAAAAAAALQ/u3fvd8OLjAw/s288/IMG_1606.JPG" /></a><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/pqgvGOAK5UujEeak1hJk_w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si89Ix46q_I/AAAAAAAAALI/Ix0lhaassmA/s288/IMG_1603.JPG" /></a><br><br /><i>Kind of blown out with the flash, but maybe you get the idea</i></center><br /><br />I hear cheers at the finish line, and I try to get up to see if it's Andi, but the sitting still feels soooo good. It's coming upon noon, and I have about 4 hour drive to LAX still, a plane to catch at 8pm. I decide to try to get ready to go, before my energy completely peters out. This include a shower, and packing, and after hanging out talking to Jakob for a bit, I head out.<br /><br />I stop for two 20 minute naps on the way to the airport. I'm offered a wheel chair when I make it to the ticket counter, which I scoff at. I see Simon Pegg, he's moving so fast (I still need to see that marathon movie he did). The final stretch after landing in Oakland to the baggage claim is long and difficult. I wish I had a wheel chair for it. It takes two more days before I'm able to walk without looking completely wounded.<br /><br />A hundred miles is a heck of a distance! As it's often said, it's paradoxically difficult and easy at the same time. A long ways to go, but in the end, it's just one foot in front of the other. It's incredible how far you can go after expending about 90% of your energy. Or even 101% of your energy.<br /><br />There's also a whole "you run the first 50 miles with your legs, the second 50 miles with your mind" or maybe it's "50 with your legs, 40 with your mind, 10 with your heart." Whatever it is, nope, I still had to cover 100 miles with my legs. The outcome was never in doubt, in my mind. All my chips were in, this was my one big race for the year, and like Kap'n Kirk's rule of DNF's says, I have to be seriously broken, or simply pulled on time. One of the funny things that kept me going: in our goodie bags we have two race shirts; short sleeved and long sleeved, and I kept thinking there's no way I'm going to have two awesome shirts that I can't wear because I didn't finish the race.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/vs0ZZjNkSKzJrm13yBPzeg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si89bisjs_I/AAAAAAAAALY/5R8bQTnUYYs/s288/IMG_1630.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />I made some comment to another runner with about 5 miles left to go, after he declared that this would be his last 100 miler, that I'm not particularly enamored with the distance, but maybe that's because I don't have my buckle yet. Hmm, no, it's not the buckle either. But finding out you can do what sounds so impossible when you first hear about it is a heck of thing. It's like you've blown the lid off of all those containers in your mind trying to keep yourself in a box. Just try it, you'll see what I mean.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/59FL4bKiwRtf-NtikSbwPA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si89aONz63I/AAAAAAAAALU/n7wAsT-KrcY/s400/IMG_1628.JPG" /></a></center><br /><br />Reading the <a href="http://www.sandiego100.com/2009Results.htm">race results</a> is like a skimming a collection stories! Rick Gaston finished 6th in 20:00:25 (that's got to hurt a little bit, but it looks like he got over it). Linda McFadden finished in 26:30:41. Cecilia and Eric were amazing first timers, and finished in 26:40:09. Hannah is the youngest finisher at 28:19:23. Catra and Andy apparently were about 9 minutes faster in the last 0.75 miles, and finished in 28:51:58. There were 125 starters, and 85 finishers, and I placed 66th. I was so glad to see Ric's name at the bottom of the list, as the dead f---ing last finisher in 30:38:00. That right there looks like an epic tale to be told. All this from reading race results, I think. Or maybe you had to be there.<br /><br />Thank you, to Scott Mills, and all the incredible volunteers who made the race possible. The course marking was top notch; for someone who often gets lost, everything was easy to follow, and the chem-lights were amazing! Beautiful course, and I enjoyed the format and having a home base (I didn't bother with any drop bags). I kept thinking that it's nice doing loops twice. The first time is cool, because it's the first time, and new and everything. The last time is cool because it's the last time!<br /><br /><b>Self-Portrait Progressive Photos</b><br /><center><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/11T9fOLivVSoB7jmj4vWRA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si33Bym3dVI/AAAAAAAAAEM/mBca-T2D6aY/s400/IMG_5000.JPG" /></a><br /><i>mile 0, race start</i><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/w7bit2_OISnrBPTPCyvZMA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si34cBCVzMI/AAAAAAAAAHM/ilh0Y8eQmLM/s400/IMG_5045.JPG" /></a><br /><i>approximately mile 8?</i><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/sJTxhh0yRG3XwT8ckrBQdQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si346P-KJyI/AAAAAAAAAIE/sSHAOru2GKo/s400/IMG_5058.JPG" /></a><br /><i>mile 20</i><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9i7KWvdXxKDSGt1u5YYXag?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/SjCkB_vGMhI/AAAAAAAAAMg/xa4FUu7oIfQ/s400/IMG_5061.JPG" /></a><br /><i>mile 50</i><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/oQ8wBvbM9Y3gdVCm4mHU6w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si36gAVVNjI/AAAAAAAAAJA/wvaq9qNFCEA/s400/IMG_5062.JPG" /></a> <br /><i>mile 70</i><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/t3hQO-rmej4gBYbT8ZN73Q?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XRV9x3lC4ek/Si36pNNXq6I/AAAAAAAAAJM/S5KRoNt6_yQ/s400/IMG_5065.JPG" /></a><br /><i>mile 100</i><br /></center><br /><br /><b>What worked</b><br />- being prepared for the weather with Moeben sleeves, Sugoi Helium jacket - these two items really work well in varying temperatures. The sleeves pull down when it gets warmer, and the jacket is light and packs away nicely<br />- gaiters. A number of other runners ran without, and I think it's insanity!<br />- switching to a hydration pack for the night: I enjoyed the extra storage, and having my hands free after 12 hours of lugging bottles around. I'm not saying I'd do this for all 100's, but it was a welcome change for this race<br />- carrying spare socks!<br />- Honey stingers: they had 'em at one aid station, and I picked 'em up. I LOVE THEM. Kept searching through the gels at the AS after that!<br />- Duct tape, well everywhere I had a hot spot, it did turn into a blister, despite mid-run taping, but having them taped up definitely helped. I definitely will learn how to tape pre-race.<br /><br /><b>What didn't work</b><br />- Drymax socks. Not convinced they DON'T work, but they didn't work for me, unproven that weekend. I definitely had blisters earlier than I normally do. It just goes to show, what works for other people doesn't necessarily work for you. But my tried and true socks that I switched into felt awesome when I did (didn't stop blisters though, it was probably too late)<br />- lube on the feet! No more of this. I don't know why I keep thinking it'll be ok. Lube on the toes maybe, but no more on the underside of my feet<br />- pedicure? I'm not convinced. I think a reasonable layer of calluses might be better than silky smooth feet. And the nail polish just added weight to me feet.<br />- Not having a defined schedule for walking/drinking/eating. I did these things when I felt like it, and I think it would have helped to force myself to walk/drink/eat earlier<br />- taking too much time at aid stations. I had it all planned out ahead of time, but in the moment, I wasted a lot of time forgetting stuff. I think this will improve with experience, but all of you out there who have crews and/or pacers, be very grateful!<br /><br /><b>Links</b><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/baldwync/2009SanDiego100RaceDayPhotos#">My Race Day Photos</a><br /><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/8469246">Combined Motionbased Report up to mile 90.8</a><br /><a href="http://www.sandiego100.com/">Official Race Website</a><br /><a href="http://365ultra.blogspot.com/2009/06/rollin-rollin-rollin.html">Rick Gaston's Race Report</a><br /><a href="http://trailgirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/san-diego-100-mile-trail-race.html">Catra Corbett's Race Report</a>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-64819920288244645162009-04-26T18:16:00.000-07:002009-04-26T22:07:16.280-07:00Mission City 5K: Kayley's first 5K!I was flipping through a local newspaper while waiting for an offsite meeting, when I noticed an ad for the Mission City 5K, put on by Keypoint Credit Union at Great America. It sounded really low-key, with no-timing (just placement in the chute), free admission into the park, sounds like an awesome event for the whole family, and a nice first non-kids race for Kayley. For $35 per adult, and $15 per kid (Mason gets in free), it's waayyy cheaper than admission into Great America, so there's definite frugal appeal there for me. Great America and I have a history of running. Every time Kayley and Trish go (I think it's always been on a weekday), I have them pick me up so I can run into work. So this was actually going to be my first time at the Park. The race includes a 5K and a 1 mile. I convince Kayley to give the 5K a try, and Trish opts for the 1 mile walk.<br /><br />Race morning starts really early for us. The alarm goes off at 5:30 but there were a couple of snooze button hits, and extended "But I'm tiirrrreed" protests. We grab breakfast and coffee at Starbucks, traffic is light, and we arrive in plenty of time. Parking is free for us, and we drive right into the VIP parking lot. Yeah!<br /><br />We grab our bibs, but have to wait awhile for goodie bags and shirts. Trish and the stroller is like a rolling aid station, and we put our drop bags into the basket. I bump into my friend Eric, who was my regular running partner lifetimes ago. He convinced me to run my very first race, the Mercury Press Run 10k, way back in 2001, so it's good to see him there with his son Hagen. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled1.jpg"><br><small><i>Baldwyn, Mason and Kayley</small></i><p><br /><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled2.jpg"><br><small><i>Kayley, Mason and Trish</i></small><p><br /><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled3.jpg"><br><small><i>Hagen and Eric</i></small></center><br /><br />We gather in front of the carousel at the start, somewhere mid-pack, and Miss Santa Clara 2009 sings the National Anthem. The airhorn blows at around 7:45, and we're off.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled4.jpg"></center><br /><br />The way is crowded, but that's ok. Kayley dashes off when the way is clear, and I follow. Her pace is inconsistent, but she's having fun.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled7.jpg"></center><br /><br />We weave our way through the park, which is pretty cool, and Kayley's doing awesome. But she starts getting tired, hoping that the end is near, when we reach the 1 mile mark. We start taking some walking breaks, and leave the park, to head out into the parking lot. Kayley starts asking how far we have to go quite frequently at this point. And is quite thirsty. There's no aid on this course, and I regret not bringing some water. The second half of the course is really uninspiring as it circumvents parking lots. Kayley tells me about her blisters, and her aching calves, and asks me to carry her but I tell her she'll finish just fine without it coming to that. I tell her it's ok to walk, just run the finish in case there are cameras.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled8.jpg"></center><br /><br />She asks me what this distance is like after a 50 miler, and I do admit that my short run is longer than this race. But way back when I ran with Eric, my bread-and-butter run was 2.5 miles. I struggled with the concept of his mid-week long run of 8 miles.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled9.jpg"></center><br /><br />The 3 mile mark is a big one, and we return to running for the finish which is just around the corner. I speed up to take photos of Kayley running, and she protests, she wants to cross the finish line first! We cross the line in something like 45 minutes. I'm very proud of Kayley guttin' through her first big race! She's a real trooper.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled15.jpg"></center><p><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled11.jpg"></center><br /><br />We're awarded with some nice copper medals, and grab some water and finish line food, and hang out until the park opens at 10am.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled13.jpg"></center><p><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled16.jpg"></center><br /><br />Mason gets to go on his first ride, which is that two level carousel from the start. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled17.jpg"></center><br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled18.jpg"><br><small><i>The excitement is too much</i></small></center><br /><br />We end the day with another first. Kayley decides to go on her first upside roller coaster!<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_mc5k/2009_mc5k_scaled19.jpg"></center><br /><br />I ask Kayley if she wants to guest-blog about the race, and we decide just to do an interview. So without further ado:<br /><br /><b>How did you feel about the race before you ran it?</b><br />I felt very nervous. <br /><br /><b>Did you do anything special to get ready for the race?</b><br />No, I just woke up at 5:30.<br /><br /><b>What did you think about the distance, before you ran it?</b><br />It sounded pretty hard to me. But I thought I could do it.<br /><br /><b>What did you think about the course?</b><br />I kind of liked it. I've seen much nicer places where you can run, but it's Great America, so...<br /><br /><b>What was hard about the race?</b><br />The distance. It became hard after the first mile. <br /><br /><b>When you crossed the finish line, how did you feel?</b><br />Really really really tired. My toes were sore. I was proud.<br /><br /><b>What was your favourite part about racing today?</b><br />Spending time with my family.<br /><br /><b>Any future plans in running?</b><br />Pace myself more. I would like to do another race.Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-67757747419868260442009-04-18T22:19:00.000-07:002009-04-23T00:16:40.458-07:00Ruth Anderson '09: Targets Vs GoalsRecovery from American River was rather painful for me; my first run back the first three days later was one of the hardest runs I've ever done (4 miles at a 10 minute/mile pace!). On top of that, two Mondays after AR, I was headed to a Leonard Cohen concert with a friend who works in Santa Clara, and decided to do an alternate commute into work so we could carpool togther. Not feeling up for it on foot, I took the bicycle, and it was a long hard ride in. I remember how a Monday bike commute made Silicon Valley Marathon difficult last year, and wondered if something similar would happen. Follow that up with a fairly aggressive hill run on Wednesday, and well...I have a bunch of excuses.<br /><br />I'm pretty new at this whole ultra thing. All these talented runners around me routinely do back to back ultras, sometimes even strings of hundreds. I'm not there yet, but I figure I can follow American River with Ruth Anderson, two weeks away, no problem. The question is what distance to target.<br /><br />Ruth Anderson has a unique format, because you can choose one of three distances to do when you're at the distance; 50km, 50 miles, 100km. If you go beyond a distance, then you're entered into the next distance, and stopping before is a DNF. I did my debut 50 mile run last year, and that race report was my <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-at-lake.htm"l>debut blog</a>. This year, my plan was 50km, but then I thought it'd be nice to do two 50 miles close together cto give me onfidence for my first 100 miler. Of course, then if I'm doing 50 miles, a PR might be nice. Maybe an age group placing again?<br /><br />Mark Tanaka, Joe Swenson and commuted together to the run, and it was a great way to meet some Ultraholics. This year, Mark is trying some non-PAUSATF races for a change, and just finished a 150 miler last weekend, not to mention had an overnight before RA. So I contacted Joe to see if he wanted to carpool. We set a time (4:50), and the THURSDAY before I got my stuff together for a Saturday race. What a difference! I'm usually stressed the night before, and it's really cool to relax knowing I'm prepared ahead of time. Ruth Anderson is a loop course, and the nice part of that is being able to set up your own aid. This was especially comforting on my first 50 miler, but now with a point-to-point under my belt, I'm not so concerned. Still, I've got extra shirts, jackets, socks, gels, tylenol, body glide in a bag just in case.<br /><br />I'm up by 3:50, and ready to go when Joe arrives. He offers to drive since his stuff is already packed up in his truck, and we head to SF together. We get to the start by Lake Merced with lots of time to spare, and pick up our packets and goody bags. I'm totally blown away when we're given Moeben sleeves. I've been wanting a pair of these! Add to that, Vespa, Fluid (recovery powder), cool hanteen bottle, goodies from Zombie Runner, all in a reusable bag from lululemon athletica, and you've got some nice shwag for a $40 race fee ($45 for first-time RAers). It is COLD, and little foggy. I meet Adam Blum, Sean Lang, Anil Rao, Nattu Natraj, Martin Casado at the start. To spice up the loop course, I suggested we play poker, and we agreed 2 cards at the start, one card per lap, $10 buy-in. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_ra/ra_schwag1.jpg"><p></center><br /><br />The sun comes up, and we're at the start around 6:40. Rajeev (Ultraholic and Race Director) delayed the start by 10 minutes to accommodate those in the porta-potty line. He then says a few words, thanking our sponsors, paying homage to Ruth Anderson, and then a count down and we're off. I run solo for awhile, trying to maintain an even pace, but I'm all over the map for the first couple of miles. Chihping catches up to me, and we talk, and soon pick up Bob Gilbert. I get to watch Chihping's photographing and running in action! <br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/2009_ra/ra09_1.jpg"><p><small><i>Photo by Chihping</i></small></center><br /><br />Right off the bat, I know it's not going to be an easy day. My quads are tight, tired and sore, possibly from AR, but I'm guessing more from bicycling. The front of my ankles are sore, something that's been plaguing me since December. I'm maintaining a sub-10 minute pace alright, which puts me on target to sub-9 hours, but I have to work up front. The air is cool, so I skip the first aid station, and when we complete the first loop, ditch my jacket. I have to hit the porta potty, while Chihping and Bob head off. <br /><br />The second lap is more of the same, but I do grab some Gu2O at the satellite aid station. I grab a gel at the main aid station, and I'm completely flabbergasted to watch the two 50k leaders come in, lapping me.<br /><br />By lap 3, I'm starving. But oddly, I don't FEEL like eating. I grab sandwich bites, but mostly eat potato chips. I try to remember to take in salt, but perhaps not as diligently as I should. I start getting lapped by the likes of Scott Dunlap, Jean Pommier. Michael Kanning, who's gunning for the 100k Junior record, passes me with an easy, relaxed stride.<br /><br />By lap 4, I catch up to Chihping again, and he's struggling with his plantar fasciitis as he did at American River. We walk a bit (he tells me not to walk like him) and at the next aid station, I grab some Tylenol. I see those two 50k speedsters walking back to the starting area, and guess that they dropped rather than finished.<br /><br />Lap 5 is slightly better. I'm not fast, but I'm pretty even and running the distance. I start having an internal debate about whether to just finish 50k, or move onto the 50 miles. It suddenly occurs to me that my next race (not counting a 5k the next weekend) is Quicksilver 50 miler. If I'm having this much trouble two weeks after AR, three weeks of recovery before my first _hilly_ 50 miler might not be enough. I decide to wait for the last lap before deciding. I realize that my target for this race was to do 50 miles, but my goal for the race was simply to get a good training run in. I feel like I've met my goal, and I'm ok about letting the target go. Adam laps me on this lap, and tells me to straighten up, and gives me a little pep talk. He says he's listening to Kid Rock in my honor (Cowboy). Dude, yeah, give a toast to the sun, drink with the stars.<br /><br />Lap 6 is like the last part of a marathon. I'm running slow, but I am running. Completing it gives me a cumulative mileage of 26.356. I do it in 4:32. About 12 minutes slower than my slowest marathon time (and 48 minutes slower than my fastest). I generally feel like I've expended 80% of my energy at the marathon mark, even if I've gone slow. Today it's more like 90%. I make the call, and head out for my last lap.<br /><br />I can't push my pace much, but I am running. I thank the volunteers at the satellite aid station, telling them I'm not sure but I think it's the last time I'm seeing them. I pass through the finish line area, and pick it up on the way to the 50k finish. I cross the line, as Carol Cuminale takes my time, and catch my breath. My time is 5:27:22. As I walk by to the finish area, Anil Rao passes me and tries to pull me on to do 50 miles. I'm momentarily tempted, but I made my call.<br /><br />The fog has rolled in and it's cold. I put on a long sleeved shirt, and a couple of jackets. I see Joe at some point and tell him I've dropped back to 50k. He says things are tough out there and he's thinking of stopping early too. I hope not. I suddenly remember poker, and draw all my cards at once. Sorting them out, the best 5 is a full house, Aces of Queens. Not bad. It's great hanging out at the finish area, and I get to meet Diane Forrest and Darshan Thaker, fellow ultraholics, and watch Rajeev in action as he greets each finisher, and breaks out age group awards.<br /><br />Jean Suyenaga comes in and asks about the 50k finish. At some point, it's pointed out to her that she's done one extra lap, and is now in the 50 mile race. She tries to protest, but Rajeev is firm and sends her out for 3 more laps. <br /><br />Michael Kanning pulls in with a foot full of blisters, and drops at 40 miles or so. He was running so well, and says his legs are fine, but his feet are too battered. It's a real shame, but he might manage to get a 50k Junior record out the deal, which is cool!<br /><br />Sean Lang decides to stop at 50 miles placing first with 7:24, given that he has Miwok in 2 weeks, and team RhoQuick isn't in the running for points any longer (unfortunately, Jean had asthma issues again and dropped back to 50k). I grab Joe's truck and pick him up from the finish line. Even though I've run the course 7 times that day, I somehow get lost. Sean draws his cards, but doesn't have a better hand.<br /><br />Anil and Martin come in at 9:12! Stellar job on both their parts! Martin, Nattu draw their cards, and although Martin has a full house, it doesn't beat mine. The whole situation looks suspicious! Next time maybe we'll all draw our cards at the end with WITNESSES, sheesh :) Thanks for playing guys, I hope it was fun.<br /><br />Rajeev starts hunting for a rope or string for Joe to break when he comes in. I call out that they better move quick because he's just turned the corner! They get it set up in time, and Joe wins the 100k with a 9:21 time! <br /><br />Jean Suyenaga finishes her 50 mile race a few minutes later, and wins women's first place!<br /><br />Joe and I end out not too long after his finish. He lets me drive, since he's stiffer than I am. Traffic is heavy all the way home, but the racing is over anyways, and Joe is always great company (and subsequently introduced me to mochas from Peets).<br /><br />Thanks to Rajeev and all the fantastic volunteers and sponsors for a great event!<br /><br /><b>Epilogue</b><br /><br />So get this. Had I continued, I probably would have won my age group in the 50 mile race. But I felt pretty good about the decision to stop, given that I had Quicksilver 50m coming up in three weeks. I'm checking out the calendar and I finally notice that Quicksilver is my nephew's birthday party, and I'll be in Reno that weekend! I can't make the race!!<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.run100s.com/splits/09ra.htm">Splits</a><br /><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/8059217">My Motionbased Report</a><br /><br /><b>Other Race Reports/Photos</b><br /><a href="http://ruthandersonraces.blogspot.com/2009/04/2009-ruth-anderson-ultra-races.html">Race Director Rajeev</a><br /><a href="http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com/2009/04/ruth-anderson-09-almost-perfect.html">Jean Pommier</a><br /><a href="http://runtrails.blogspot.com/2009/04/unexpected-pr-at-ruth-anderson-50k.html">Scott Dunlap</a><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ultrail2009/090418RuthAnderson#">Chihping's photos</a>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-12120569631560650302009-04-07T11:44:00.000-07:002009-04-16T11:28:40.893-07:00American River 50MIt finally clicked in after my run into work that American River 50M was not only my first official race of the year, it was my first race since Silicon Valley Marathon in October! At first, I was considering it a training run, but it was starting to feel like a real race as it came closer. My target time kept changing; I wanted to make sure I had enough time to recover for 100 miler in May or June, in fact, what about doing the 50 miler at 100 mile pace? But no, a PR sounds kind of nice too. I tapered for the race, and the week before, just couldn't wait until race day. I kept visualizing the run, and was feeling eager. <br /><br /><a href="http://www.run100s.com/AR50/index.html">American River 50M</a> is an Ultra institution. 2009 marks the thirtieth running of the race, and it's been noted that <a href="http://www.pacificcitizen.org/site/NEWS/tabid/54/selectedmoduleid/373/ArticleID/187/title/Ultrarunner_Gloria_Takagishi_to_Celebrate_30-Year_Milestone/Default.aspx">Gloria Takagishi</a> is going for her 30th finish. American River is the second largest Ultra in the US, after the JFK 50K. This year, Julie Fingar takes over the reins of race director from Greg Soderlund.<br /><br /><a href="http://onemorerun.blogspot.com">Ron Duncan</a> contacted me before the race, and we decided to carpool and split a hotel room. The Tuesday before, I ran six miles with a co-worker. Not too fast, it felt good, even saw Ron on the trail. But when I got back to the office, my lungs and throat started hurting, and I knew I was getting sick. I stopped off at Trader Joe's on the way home to get some Airborne, and tried everything I could think of to head off the cold. I was already going to try and sleep more, but now I really needed it. I manage to get 8 hours in to my usual 6.5, but I'm achy, tired, sniffly, have a sore throat and a cough. Thursday is even worse, as the bug settles in my lungs, and I sound like Dr. John. I take Friday off, with the intent of napping in the morning after dropping my daughter off at school, but end up packing the whole time. I feel a little better, but still generally tired, heart-rate high with activity, and even though I'm not coughing a lot, when I do it's painful. My wife, Trish, first asks if this is a good idea, and why I would run 50 miles while sick. I try to explain that it'll at least be good late-miles in a 100 miler training if I feel crappy. Or maybe it'll be like running at altitude, not being able to breathe. Not entirely convincing arguments.<br /><br />Ron's delayed at work, so we don't head to Sacramento until around 2:30. We're stuck in traffic repeatedly, and don't make it to the Fleet Feet store to pick up our packets until around 5:30. We have to buy sodas at Mountain Mikes Pizza nearby to use the rest room, but it's worth it. There are some good bargain bins, but neither of us partake, and we head over to the banquet.<br /><br />We're arriving just as the American River trivia questions are winding down. Ron gets a Trail Running magazine subscription for yelling out the right answer on the final climb distance (3 miles). Tim Twietmeyer, Greg Soderlund, and Julie Fingar then go through the course, turn by turn, giving us pointers on what to expect. I come away with: don't run the bike trail too hard, leave Granite Bay with plenty of liquids, and leave Last Gasp without too much liquid. After it wraps up, we head to our hotel in Auburn. We drive to the finish line so we know what to do at 4am, grab some more food from Marie Callendar's, go through pre-race rituals and turn in for the night.<br /><br />We're both up before our wake-up call. It's cold (around 38-40 degrees), so I decide to bring a torn windbreaker with the intent to throw it away at some point. I pop some 12-hour cough medicine and Tylenol, have some cough syrup in the hopes that it'll make me feel semi-decent. We leave the hotel at 4am. One wrong turn on the way to the bus proves to be shorter route. There we find Rajeev, who had started driving at midnight, to arrive at the bus by 4. Once it gets going, we're all silent, as we try to sleep, or just conserve energy. I'm feeling really awful. Nausea, headachy, and when I cough, I feel like I'm going to throw up. I envision starting the race, finding I can't run, and DNFing before I even hit mile 1.<br /><br />We disembark at around 5:30, with just half an hour before the start. First thing, porta-potty. Ron still has to check his sweats too. I'm freezing, but get to see Chihping, Jose, and Marissa. Some quality time in the porta-potty actually helps out with the nausea, and by the time I'm out, it's almost time for the race. I walk to the start, and the horn goes off, and we're off and moving. <br /><br />I instantly feel better. The slow pace lets me breath lightly, so I'm not coughing much. The morning is dark and we head away from Guy West Bridge to a turnaround. After the turnaround, I catch up to Jose, Marissa and Rajeev. I consider running with them, but my legs are feeling great, so I slowly pull away.<br /><br />The sun is beginning to rise, and the movement makes me feel warm enough to ditch my outer jacket when I come to the first aid station at Watt Ave (5.3 miles in), but I keep it just in case. My bottles are still full, and the next aid station isn't far. I keep to the dirt shoulders as much as possible, and my pace hovers between 9:30 and 10 minute miles.<br /><br />I refill at the William Pond (8.46 miles) aid station, and ditch the outer jacket. After the half-marathon mark, I notice my pinkie toe on the right may have already started to blister. Feels a little early in the game, but eh, got to get used to it.<br /><br />I've heard many complaints about the bike trail, but found it quite easy going, with some gorgeous scenery. Things get a little more difficult after Negro Bar, and I try to remember that I should reach Beals Point feeling pretty fresh.<br /><br />Some guy on the trail starts turning around and yuking it up. He points his water bottle at runners and threatens "What if I....? What if I?!" I reply with "I'll chase you down." "Hey, I've already been chicked once tonight." We talk a bit, he asks how my run is going and of course I complain about my cold. "Run a cold, sprint a fever", he says. It's entertaining at fist, but eventually his humour falls flat after awhile, and his walk breaks leaves him behind.<br /><br />I pull into Beals Point (26.7 miles) in 4:49. I stop to pee, and call my wife, to let her know I'm doing ok, and over half-way. The aid station is huge and rich with activity. People are met by family and crew. Knees being iced, sunblock being applied, etc. I decide it's too early to lolly-gag, and try to push to Granite Bay. I figure if I'm going to walk, it might as well be uphill.<br /><br />My feet are really starting to bother me. I start picturing cherry-tomato blisters on toes, and on the ball of my foot. I decide once I get to Granite Bay, I'll see what's going on. The Granite Bay aid station at mile 31.67 is sizeable, but has a real trail vibe to it. I pull up to a log, and check out my feet. The blister on my small toe isn't that bad, and what I thought was a large blister on the ball of my foot is just dirt grinding into my skin. I was trying out Aquaphor instead of Body-Glide as a lubricant, and thought it'd be good on my feet. But with airy road shoes, sand was easily getting in. The Aquaphor just let the sand stick. Oh well, I figure I can deal. It's a valuable lesson to learn on a "short" run.<br /><br />The sandy trail isn't too challenging, and the lightly undulating hills feel great. My legs are loving this stretch, and I pick up the pace. This is definitely my favorite stretch. It doesn't take too long (about 47 minutes), before I come to Buzzard's Cove. This aid station at mile 40.94 is only accessible by water or by foot. It's water only, and I hold up my hydration bottle to be topped off a couple of ounces. The aid station worker points out I'm probably not drinking enough. It's hot, but I'm not feeling it because of my cold. I know I'm sweating, but I haven't really been thirsty yet. As I leave, a kid sitting by a cooler asks if I want an ice cream. Heck yes. It's a full on vanilla ice cream in a cone, and it's delicious. I eat it on the trail.<br /><br />The trail gets a bit gnarlier after that. There are huge rocks to climb at times, and the leg lifts are high when your legs are tired. At one point, I almost fall; the runner behind me prevents me from hitting the ground. My hydration bottle takes the brunt of any impact. I'm tired, and not eager to pass runners who stop to let me go. I'm leap-frogging with a couple as we go. I continually snag my toes on rocks, but never fall, thank goodness. I start suspecting that my 12 hour cough medicine is wearing off, as my lungs start feeling a bit raw. It takes an hour to travel the 3.25 miles to Horseshoe bar at the 38.14 mile mark. I try to get my salt on, mostly through boiled potatoes. <br /><br />My Garmin's battery gives up the ghost soon after, with 7 hours, 44 minutes of recording. I've gone 38.28 miles. It doesn't take long to get to Rattlesnake Bar (mile 40.94). Greg had mentioned at the banquet that this is a psychologically important aid station, and he's right. It's less than 10 miles to the finish, and broken down with a mere 2 more aid stations. It's go time!<br /><br />Well, it's not that easy. I start walking the flats a bit more, and it takes time to get to Manhattan Bar. It's obvious at this point that a sub-10 hour time is out of my reach. But I should be able to go sub-11 and qualify for Western States. Progress feels extremely slow.<br /><br />I hit the 47 mile mark before I hit the last aid station. I thought it'd be the other way around. It's very uplifting, and I start the final charge. I have a fair amount still saved up, so I decide to run the hills. As I round one corner, there are kids waiting to take our hydration bottles ahead to the aid station and refill them. I tell the guy waiting for me to only fill them half way, Gu2O in one, water in the other. They're waiting for me when I get to the aid station, but he's filled 'em all the way. Oh well. I blow though this aid station quickly, this race is almost over!<br /><br />I notice that the water bottles are heavy as I run. But not when I walk! A quick march, swinging them as I go seems to help my pace. I drink to lighten my load, and walk, and then break into a run. The hill is actually not as steep as I thought it'd be. I'm starting to have fun pinging off the other runners, and start picking up some speed. The miles count down, and I can see the canopy of the finish area, hear the announcer. I come to a sign that says there's just one last hill. Steep, but runnable, I charge up, and cross the finish line in 10:34.<br /><br />I'm handed a bottle of water and my finisher's jacket as the chip is cut off of my shoe. The jacket is awesome. I pause a bit, and Brad Fenner comes up to greet me. He had contacted me before the race looking for someone to help him go sub-9. I direct him to the Ultraholics mailing list, and so he hooked up with Bill Cotton. Brad ran an amazing 8:22, in his third ultra, first 50 miler!<br /><br />I find Ron and Bill in the center of the finish area, and we catch up on finishing times, and how the run was for everyone. Ron debuted in his first 50 miler in 8:29. He mentions he had a great 40 mile run, and a harder 50 mile run. Bill stuck to the original sub-9 plan, and finished in 8:53. Bill mentions that the shower will make me feel like a million bucks, and that sounds like a great idea.<br /><br />I get the cold shower, but it's good to get some of the salt off of me. I grab a beer from the trunk, and a finish-line hamburger. We chill for awhile, and Chihping finds us, and joins us for a ride to Sacramento. <br /><br />I arrive home to a house full of kids. Our friends Alison and Rory are at a Shark's game, so we have their two children. It's actually awesome to come home to such energy. My daughter tells me she really missed me. The evening winds down and every one is camped out in front of the TV for Bedtime Stories to close out the day.<br /><br />This run exceeded my expectations. The course was beautiful, and the trails were fun. The aid stations were top notch (although they didn't carry salt-tabs, so I'll have to remember that next year), and the finisher's jacket terrific. Way to go Julie, on your debut as American River race director! It's always disappointing to not run as well as you think you should. I had some blisters, but could ignore them. My knees, ankles felt pretty solid through the whole thing. Felt tired, but never really death marched. Not sure how much I can attribute to my cold, since I didn't necessarily feel that crappy once I got going. I guess there's one way to find out...<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/ar_jacket1.jpg" height=480><p><br /><small><i>I had my wife take this picture at a birthday party the next day. She said, "You just want a picture of your jacket!" I say "Yeah, well, for my blog!"</i></small></center><br /><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/7946920">Motionbased Report on what was recorded</a><br /><br /><b>Other Reports:</b><br /><br /><a href="http://bushidorunner.blogspot.com/2009/04/2009-american-river-50-mile.html">Sean Lang ran an incredible 6:50</a><br /><a href="http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com/2009/04/american-river-09-giving-up.html">Jean Pommier was shut down by asthma, and turned into a race photog</a><br /><a href="http://adirtrunnersblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/ar50-old-dog-with-new-trick.html">Bill Cotton's amusing report</a>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-36320281793156819602009-03-20T15:10:00.000-07:002009-03-26T13:54:33.077-07:00UltracommuteAfter my string of Fat Asses, I made several attempts at 20-30 mile runs, but always found a good reason to cut them short. There was the "wife will be mad at me if I show up 30 minutes before the party I instigated starts with mopping, vacuuming, and general tidying up left to do" excuse. There was the "wow, my legs are beat, and I'm back at the car" run. Don't forget the "I've been out for over an hour, it's 1am in the morning, and my trail is flooded, I do have to get up at 6:30, maybe I should call it a night." And finally there's the "ok, so I just jumped a locked gate, and now I'm face to face with a bull with rather long horns, maybe I should turn around" gem. What can I say, there are days where unless you run out 10-15 miles, and run back, it's just too hard to say run a 5 mile circle near your house after an 18 mile run. I know, not exactly flexing my mental fortitude muscle here. I will say that I've been pretty successful following up my 15-18 mile runs with a 10 mile run the next day so I'm not a complete flake. But it does make me understand why some people elect to pack a race calendar instead of a training schedule!<br /><br />So, my first thought is, when I get an email from an old boss organizing an annual get-together of coworkers after work, is I bet I can get a ride home from a friend who lives not too far away and run into work that day! A quick email to my friend confirms it, and I start mapping out routes. <br /><br />Kap'n Kirk had pointed out to me during the Fremont Fat Ass 50k that there was a pedestrian bridge over the toll boths of the Dumbarton bridge. I was going to take full advantage of that pearl of knowledge, because I always found it tedious and frustrating to have to traverse around to get across the highway. I come up with a route that according to Google maps will be 31.8 miles. Perfect!<br /><br />Now I've run into work before, when it was a scant 22 miles away. Those made up the bulk of my long runs while training for my first and second marathons. Just before my first 50 miler last year, I attempted to run into my new work location (slightly different from now since we've moved, but still Mountain View), and ended up calling a friend to pick me up in East Palo Alto, 24 miles into the run (my loyal reader(s) will remember this story from my <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html">debut blog</a>). I've biked in a few times, and even biked in and out once (also blogged <a href="http://got-to-run.blogspot.com/2008/07/1st-zero-pollute-commute-day.html">here</a>. I know I have better endurance these days, but at least don't keep up the illusion that I can bust out a 50k in less than 5 hours at the drop of the hat any more (I've haven't gone sub-5 yet). I figure an arrival time between 10-11 is ok, which means trying to leave the house before 5am.<br /><br />It's been a cold week, so I pull out the tights, and my running jacket for the morning. I turn early the night before, something like 10pm, and wake up at 3:45. I found it remarkably easy, and I'm pretty energetic as I make some coffee, take a quick hot shower to loosen up a bit, and eat breakfast. Then I notice, naw, really am a little tired. I take a hydration pack, because I'll need the water, and know there aren't a lot of water fountains on the way. I leave the house at 4:45, and I'm surprised to find it kind of warm.<br /><br />The street lamps eliminate the need for a light, but I have a headlamp with me anyways. I make my way out of Castro Valley, and take a different route than I do on a bicycle. Usually, I find the trek to Hesperian to be tedious and ugly on the bike. But this route is nicer, since I'm going more through neighbourhoods than the streets of Hayward, and I end up on Hesperian sooner (Winton/Hesperian vs Tennyson/Hesperian). Thanks for the idea, Google Maps.<br /><br />I run by one of <a href="http://ultrailnakaman.blogspot.com">Mark Tanaka's</a> places of work, and think about when I commented on his Facebook page that "man, does he ever run slow?" to have him misinterpret that as me thinking he runs slow, and him commenting him that it took less than an hour which doesn't seem that slow...anyways, I think I passed his place of work in about an hour and a half. Man, do I ever run slow.<br /><br />Still, I'm thinking I'm making ok time, and chugging comfortably along as Hayward makes way to Union City. I'm waiting for that brilliant sunrise that you only see when you're up and facing the day before it appears. I wonder what city I'll be in when it happens, and I'm thinking it might actually be Fremont. Maybe I'll see it coming over Mission Peak or something. I pass by a field, and unexpectedly find cows and goats staring at me. Since I'm packing a camera, I stop to take picture.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute1.jpg" width=400><p><small><i>Nice huh? Pompeo Posar I am not</i></small></center><p><br /><br />The day gets brighter and brighter, when it dawns (haha) on me that I'm being robbed of my sunrise. The overcast skies merely go from black to grey, skipping the entire range of reds, oranges and yellows. Oh well, at least it isn't cold (although it doesn't really warm up either)!<br /><br />I'm still feeling really good and consistent, about 14 miles in, and I pass Alameda Creek trail. I think a little bit on heading towards Coyote hills, and ending up the Dumbarton that way, but it is a work day, so I continue with the plan of record. Hesperian, which goes through three name changes as I go through three cities, and I part ways at Paseo Padre (where Hesperian will take on a fourth name), and I can feel the bridge getting close. My legs start to feel the run at this point, and I know that it feels like my journey is about to end when I'm really only half way through. I start multiplying my current time by 2, and think about sub 5-hour 50ks. <br /><br />I get a little confused with some trailheads/driveways that appear off to the right. I know I'm expecting something like "Quarry Rd" to take me to the pedestrian bridge, and the quarry is to the right, but everything I want to take is no-trespassers. Eventually, it becomes obvious that none of those are Quarry Rd, and I find it, and continue parallel to Hwy 84, separated by a chainlink fence that does a decent job of accumulating trash.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute3.jpg" width=400></center><p><br /><br />Quarry Rd leads into the parking lot of a visitor's center? Or maybe that's where the toll booth workers park? In any case, I feel like I'm backstage at a theater, getting to see what the audience doesn't.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute4.jpg" width=400></center><p><br /><br />I can't find an official path to the pedestrian bridge, but there does seem to be an informal one, up the slope. So I climb it, and I find myself on the south end of Coyote Hills. Neat.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute5.jpg" width=400></center><p><br /><br />I furtively take pictures of the audience from my unique standpoint. And I pour out some water out of my hydration pack to Kap'n Kirk for his part in this endeavor, hoping he's doing well, that his daughters are fine, and that he finds a cool new job soon.<br /><br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute6.jpg" height=400></center><p><br /><br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute7.jpg" width=400></center><p><br /><br />Back on the other side, I run the long, slow miles to the bridge itself. Bike or on foot, it feels like you're going slow on this stretch. My legs are officially tired, and I promise them a walking break when I make it to the bridge.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute14.jpg" width=400></center><p><br /><br />I'd like to say that the sensation of having cars driving at you at high speeds is one that fills you with adrenaline, but it's really just unnerving. I notice the water is shallower than I expected, and think this is a crappy bridge to BASE jump from, and the faster I get across the less likely I'll have to deal with the shallowness of the water if an earthquake strikes. Don't know why I'm having such cheery thoughts. <br /><br />I try to rally at the top and gain some speed, but it's not happening, so I try for slow consistency instead.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute11.jpg" height=400></center><p><br /><br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/20090313_ultracommute12.jpg" width=400></center><p><br /><br />By the time I'm in East Palo Alto, I've run out of water, so I think about some Gatorade from that one convenience store on University. Or maybe it's a liquor store. Anyways, as it turns out, it's closed. Rather than cross the street to McDonalds, I decide to keep going, and I notice a street where I can see the blue garage of Ikea. So instead of continuing on University, I head towards that beacon of hope.<br /><br />The Ikea leads to a McDonalds, and I pop in for a medium soft drink at 8am in the morning. It's coca cola, the nectar of ultra-runner. I never thought I'd understand its place in the sport, until I tried it. I hydrate, get some sugar and caffeine and cut through a Home Depot parking lot, which is packed with labourers looking for work.<br /><br />I'm now running parallel to 101, and it becomes apparent that a sub-5 hour 50k isn't going to happen this morning. The landmarks seem to come slowly. First Embarcadero. Then San Antonio. Then I do a little diverging from the plan of record, as I see the Shoreline Golf course. I'm looking for some soft trails to run on. The trails on the golf course lead me to fences, and I'm having to jump some to get back on a road. I'm running through Google's campus now, forgetting to thank them for their help earlier on the run for suggesting the route through Castro Valley/Hayward. Instead, I'm eyeing their bike racks full of company owned bikes that probably aren't even locked. <br /><br />Cutting through some more driveways, I come to the nursery that lies right by Stevens Creek Trail. I run through fields of bark or mulch that's really quite fun to run on. I climb up the embankment, and then head south, on familiar asphalt, as I end up on this trail about 3 times a week running at lunch at work. <br /><br />One foot in front of the other, I finally make it to work, five hours, 48 minutes after I started. My final mileage tally is 32.8 miles. <br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=http:%2F%2Ftrail.motionbased.com%2Ftrail%2Fkml%2Fepisode.kml%3FepisodePkValues%3D7783837&ie=UTF8&ll=37.557152,-122.094211&spn=0.31408,0.094799&t=h&output=embed"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=http:%2F%2Ftrail.motionbased.com%2Ftrail%2Fkml%2Fepisode.kml%3FepisodePkValues%3D7783837&ie=UTF8&ll=37.557152,-122.094211&spn=0.31408,0.094799&t=h&source=embed" style="color:#0000FF;text-align:left">View Larger Map</a></small><br /><br />I immediately revise my plan for a sub 9 hour American River, to be a sub 10 hour American River. <br /><br />The work day goes fine, but I am stiff and sore. It just makes the wine at that ex-company get together go down even nicer. My friend drops me off at home, and gets to meet the whole family, including my son for the first time, so it's cool. I don't manage a run the next day because make a point of getting it in that weekend. It doesn't happen until Sunday night, around midnight. Luckily, a 9 mile hilly run that ends at 1:30am when you're tired feels like I'm finally working out a bit of that mental fortitude muscle.Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-58042539519853235202009-02-19T18:19:00.000-08:002009-02-22T22:27:39.665-08:00Los Gatos Overgrown Fatass Trail MarathonI'm still riding the Fat Ass train for long runs! Fellow ultraholics <a href="http://coursetrained.blogspot.com/">Adam Blum</a> and <a href="http://bushidorunner.blogspot.com/">Sean Lang</a> organized this second running of the Los Gatos Overgrown Fatass Trail Marathon. Adam promised some burly elevation gains with the course, and solidly delivered.<br /><br />My alarm goes off at 5:55, and in a rare move for race morning, I hit snooze. I eventually drag myself out of bed, and have my traditional breakfast of toast with almond butter and jam. I'm very disorganized this morning, and it takes awhile to get my stuff in order. Even then, I run back and forth from the car to grab last minute items, such as my GPS watch, and the directions. <br /><br />Race time is 8am, and I might have made it, except I miss a turn (Jones Rd) and spend some time hunting for the street. I still waste time deciding on using my aftermarket footbed inserts instead of the ones that came with my shoes...and then I'm haunted by thinking that I left my car unlocked. Three trips back and forth, and I finally make my way to the start at <a href="http://www.mapquest.com/maps/map.adp?searchtype=address&country=US&addtohistory=&searchtab=home&formtype=address&popflag=0&latitude=&longitude=&name=&phone=&cat=&address=260+jones+rd&city=los+gatos&state=ca&zipcode=">Novitiate Park in Los Gatos</a>, about 8 minutes late. Of course, everyone's gone, but there's a stash of water, and supplies there. I realize I didn't really study the course, and didn't bring a map. The person Adam has managing the start/finish realizes she doesn't really know the way either. I figure I sort of know what I'm looking for and head off. Adam gave good details on his website, and the path is very simple, I just didn't do my homework. All I could remember was Limekiln to Mount Sombrosa, and the fact that he had two different maps; one showing the start trail. I interpreted that as being the start trail is complicated enough to warrant a separate map. Even if I get lost, I kind of wanted to do an ultra instead of a marathon, anyways. <br /><br />As I come to a T, I see hikers coming up both trail choices. I ask the guy on the left if he's seen any runners, and he says no. I ask the people on the right, and they say yes. So to the right I go. I soon find myself making my way back to the start, so I ask other hikers, and they say the runners were headed in the other direction, and something about carrying beer. Sounds like my crew, so I turn around. This trail is full of runners and walkers on this damp morning.<br /><br />Jones trail ends at a Alma Bridge road, and again I'm not sure what direction to go in, so I backtrack up the hill I've just come down, to a map I had passed. Another runner passes me, and turns out to be Toshi, who's also running the marathon. I figure out my way, and head up the road.<br /><br />Jones trail is nicely groomed, and well used. Limekiln trail is nicely rugged. It's not majorly technical, but rocky enough you have to be paying attention. I think I see a few of the half-marathoners returning to the start at this point. I meet Carol returning from the her aid station, thinking that all the runners have passed through. That's what I get for showing up late! I'm running with just one water bottle and missed any stashes of water, so I get a little worried about running out. I'm rearing a technical t-shirt with a Pearl Izumi windbreaker, and I'm finding myself drenched on the arms, which I don't like, and unzip the sleeves to use it just as a vest. <br /><br />The trail transitions from cutting through forest, to ridge like as it hugs the hills. I catch a glimpse of a runner up ahead. The hillside seems more exposed, and the wind is cold. The route is full of false summits, and I come across Cynthia and David, a couple that I had met at the Fremont Fat Ass 50k. We climb the hill together, and I start blasting down the downhill. I pass couple more runners at this point, and at around 10 miles, I start encountering the front runners. Pierre's looking fast and strong. I stop off to remove pebbles from my shoes, when Adam finds me sitting on a stump. Soon after, it's Sean and his dog Gordy. I'm getting tired, and thankful to pull into the Hick's Road aid station. It's fantastic to be cheered in, and something you kind of miss in trail running from street races. I drink an entire bottle of water before refilling with Powerade and grab a handful of peanut butter sandwiches.<br /><br />I've been trying to adopt the Pose technique of running, and I'm finding it's really saving my knees. It also turns out to work well on uphills. I'm not walking as many of the uphills as I usually do, but I'm still having to walk some portions. The downhills are thrashing my quads though, and sometimes I have to walk the flats after a blast downhill to give my muscles a break. The air has gotten colder, and the fog rolls over the summits. At one point I put the sleeves back onto my jacket.<br /><br />I make it to Carol's aid station and she's bundled against the cold. She's brought her own cowbell and her enthusiasm is fantastic. I'm thirsty again, and grateful for the water.<br /><br />The trail back seems longer. I had glimpsed a runner before the aid station but there's no sign of him at this point. I hit the road again, and at one point, I'm confronted by a bicyclist and a car with no place for me to go. Thankfully, the car slows down to let us work it out. The hill up Jones trail is more intimidating than when I had climbed it backwards to check the trail map, but I can smell the barn, and I start picking up some speed. My shoelaces are unravelling but I can see the finish line, and I pull in to cheers. Some are amused that then I stop to tie my shoes :)<br /><br />There's beer, chips, cookies, and Adam's chiropractor is there for assisted stretches. Real classy. I recognize him from the Almaden 10k a couple years back. He stretches me out and says I'm not as inflexible as I think I am.<br /><br />A couple more runners make it in, but Cynthia and David are missing in action. Heidi reports that Cynthia was having some issues and they had intended to turn the return trip into a hike instead of a run. Adam drives to the road, and heads onto the trail to look for them, but a few minutes pass and our last runners make it in to the finish.<br /><br />Eventually, conversation winds down, we close up the finish the line. Thanks to Adam and Sean for putting on the event, and all the fantastic volunteers for their support!<br /><br /><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/7608011">My Motionbased report</a> <br /><br /><b>The Aftermath</b><br /><br />The next day, I decide to do a "back to back" run, and head out for an 8 mile run on sore legs. It goes well, and I'm feeling more confident about tackling Lake Sonoma. I'm still wrestling with the hills on the LS50 course, so I launch into an elevation analysis of the Los Gatos Overgrown profile. GPS watches are notorious for their over-estimation of elevation. Going from a Garmin 305 to a Garmin 405, I notice that Garmin Connect is less accurate than Motionbased. Motionbased has an option to dump the GPS elevation recorded data, and use actual geographic data instead. But I'm still not satisfied, and after a couple of posts on the Ultraholics group, Steve Ansell points me to SportTracks. SportTracks with their elevation correction, and ability to modify the averaging window starts yielding some satisfactory results. I arrive at an estimate of 6500 feet of climb/descent for the course.<br /><br />I manage to find a few Motionbased reports for Lake Sonoma last year, and determine that it's elevation is around 9000 when imported into SportTracks with the same settings. This makes me feel more capable about attacking that course, so I decide to attack the hills in earnest.<br /><br />After a rest day, and then a short run day (5 miles), I head to Rhus Ridge for some hill repeats. Rhus Ridge is a trail in a quieter portion of Rancho San Antonio and provides a fantastic hill workout as it climbs about 600 feet within 3/4 of a mile. I usually run there one a week, typically heading up along Black Mountain trail. This day, I decide to run three repeats on the hill. The first one is the hardest, probably because I'm not warmed up. I'm pleased that the repeats are very even, in fact the ascents are within 15 seconds of each other. <br /><br /><a href="http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/7611225">Motionbased report of hill repeat</a><br /><br />My good running streak sadly comes to an end, as I hit the hills at Fremont Older the next day too, and I'm troubled with calf/achilles pain the entire run. I take it easy, and try to figure out how to run without aggravating the issue, but it persists beyond this run as well. I worry again about Lake Sonoma, and realize that my key race this year is my first 100 miler at Sulphur Springs. Sulphur Springs, while not being a flat run, isn't nearly as hilly as Lake Sonoma (the accumulated elevation is around 13000 over 100 miles, vs 10500 over 50 miles). Sulphur Springs is less than 2 months after LS, which isn't necessarily enough time to recover if I get injured. So I finally chicken out, and registered for American River (the week after, but much less hilly) instead.Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-11967701629100274002009-01-25T22:06:00.000-08:002009-01-30T15:18:15.050-08:00Fremont Fat Ass 50kThanks to a missent email on Chihping's part, I was reminded midweek about the <a href="http://fremontfatass50k.blogspot.com/">Fremont Fat Ass 50k</a> on Saturday Jan, 24th, 2009. I was planning to do a long training run, maybe 20 miles the same day as I was ramping up my mileage. But I'm a on a Fat Ass roll, so the timing is perfect! This one is put on by <a href="http://trailgirl.blogspot.com/">Catra Corbett</a> and Mike Palmer, and goes from Quarry Lakes in Fremont, to Coyote hills, with a couple of loops, and back. Mostly flat, with the exception of some of Coyote hills, it might help me snap out of my running funk, and help convince me that I can still churn out some miles at a decent pace.<br /><br />I take a rest day on Friday, but throw caution to the wind and have Thai for dinner. I've been thinking that my running hasn't been all that stellar because I'm not getting enough sleep. I still don't manage to get to sleep before midnight, with my alarm set for 6am, and a run time of 8am. <br /><br />The dog wakes me up at 5:55, so I get up, and make a breakfast of almond butter and jam on toast, and I'm pretty much ready at half an hour later. Hmm. I could have slept in about 30 minutes longer. Oh well, I leave the house at 7, and I'm at the start at 7:30. I could have slept a whole hour longer! I'm guess I'm still used to a longer morning pre-race ritual, which has steadily been cut down as I gain experience. <br /><br />The weather has been rainy, and temperatures cool. We've had a mild winter so far, so a little rain can't hurt. The morning is overcast, but no rain. It's a little chilly though, but I'm sure everything will be once we get going. Because the course is mostly on asphalt or crushed gravel trails, I wear my under-used road shoes. I've been struggling with my current selection of trail shoes, and relieved to have the chance to use a set of shoes that have served me reliably. I discover new pockets in my running jacket so I pack about 5 gels, an almond butter and jelly sandwich, and salt pills. For hydration I take a single water bottle. This is a departure to my usual hydration pak, but I'm thinking I'll enjoy traveling light.<br /><br />We gather in the parking lot, and I get to greet faces that I know more through Facebook or the Ultraholic group than actual runs. I get to finally meet Catra, who is like a force of nature in the ultra-community, talk to <a href="http://mountain-man-steve.blogspot.com/">Steve Ansell</a> who is planning to run very easy for 2-3 hours as he returns from a Javelina Jundred calf injury and Ron Duncan, who's crazy fast race times I've read about on the Ultraholic list. Eight o clock comes around, so we gather for a group photo.<br /><center><img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-akzsnc1/v2099/1/29/1067730276/n1067730276_30276186_8714.jpg" width=400></center><br /><br />Once it's done, Catra calls the start at 8:08, and we head off as a group. Chihping is almost sprinting towards us as he's running from the aid station he set up on the course.<br /><br />My goal for the day is to finish between 6 and 7 hours. I only have two previous 50k finishes (the fastest being 6:18 or so, although I did a 5:22 at 50k on the way to 50 miles at Ruth Anderson), and my last two Fat Ass runs have been extremely slow. Somehow, I fall in with leaders though. Catra leads our way through Quarry Lakes, but a number of people pause to de-jacket, before continuing on. I fall in with Ron Duncan, and we briefly take the lead, but definitely need a navigator. Kap'n Kirk Boisseree and Dennis Connor come to the rescue. We run to turnaround at the start of the Alameda Creek trail. <br /><br />The pace is feeling great, and left to my own devices, I'm pretty sure I'd be running faster, which would be a mistake. We pick up Lindsay along the way, and the air is full of conversations about pyrotechnics, the Bears and how the colour of last year's American River 50m finishers' jackets were the wrong colour. Ron falls back a bit to keep Lindsay company as Dennis and Kirk and I press forward. We come across Chihping's awesome aid station, to find someone making off with a couple of sodas. The Kap sets him straight and we head towards Coyote Hills.<br /><br />I've never run any of these trails before, and the ones in Coyote Hills are a treat. The hill is a welcome change of pace, but not too steep. The green hills frame us on one side, and bring thoughts of Ireland to my mind (I've never been to Ireland), and the Bay is on the other side. Kirk and I leave Dennis as he takes an extended aid station stop at Dairy Glen, but at some point gain Ron again. Lindsay was only planning on 20 miles, so Ron sprinted to catch up with us. He mentions that Dennis is feeling a bit gimpy and heading back directly. We head into the reeds, and pass by an honest to goodness <a href="http://www.tricityvoice.com/articledisplay.php?a=3731">archaeological dig site</a> before returning to Alameda Creek trail. I'm feeling tired, and expecting to be falling back, as Ron and Kirk talk about 5 hour finishes. Ron says he's thinking about pizza, and wonders if someone will deliver to the parking lot. He's already formulating a welcome plan.<br /><br />We find Dennis at Chihping's aid station, and he's having stomach trouble. Kirk gives him some ginger to settle his stomach, and we head off again. At our next walking break, Ron puts the after burners on and blasts ahead. I'm having a great time running with Kirk. He shares some fantastic war stories, and his advice on ultras is very welcome. Getting to see a veteran at work is even better. His walking breaks are disciplined and his walk has purpose. Again, left up to my own devices, I'd take these more often, with a slow, shuffling gait. <br /><br />We hit Quarry Lakes, and can see and smell the barn. But it's deceptive, and the one and half miles to the back entrance is a long ways to run at this point. Once we reach the gate, we have 2 minutes to run a mile to break 5 hours. Thankfully, we don't have what it takes. <br /><br />We reach the finish at 5:14, which is a 50k PR for me! Ron's heading off to pick up pizza (they wouldn't deliver) but waits long enough to give me a beer and an orange. Ron Duncan is one of the smartest, most generous person out there, and a true man of action. While others might think a beer might be nice at the finish of a race, he actually implements the plan.<br /><br />Mike and Catra aren't too far behind, and pretty soon Ron's back with pizza. It is truly awesome pizza. We watch the other runners come in, as the weather turns a bit colder. The conversation and company makes it difficult to leave, and I get to watch everyone make it in. Steve Ansell is a real bulldog as his plan to run 2-3 hours turns to 6:37. <br /><br />Thanks to Steve for the ride back to my car, Ron for the company on the run, the pizza, beer and other refreshments, Kirk for taking me all the way, and Catra and Mike for putting the whole thing together!Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-86774122906634559202009-01-03T21:31:00.000-08:002009-01-21T11:05:37.927-08:00The Epiphany!Well, this was the first Fat Ass event that I've attended, other than my own. Fat Asses are low-key runs, generally (always?) put on by runners, and typically involve no entry fee, and hence no awards, and minimal aid. It's quite the epiphany, for someone who got involved in racing, simply for the swag (the allure of race medals).<br /><br />When discussed on the Ultraholics mailing list, <a href="http://ultrailnaka.blogspot.com">Mark Tanaka</a>, and <a href="http://ultrafamilyman.blogspot.com">Chihping Fu</a> had the bright idea to start around 4am from Lake Chabot, and run to the start at Skyline Gate in Redwood Park. I mentioned this to my wife, who said something like "Well, it would be nice for you not to be gone all day." Hmm. And good night-running experience, and perhaps I can stop being lazy and run into work starting at 4am, instead of waiting until 8am and riding my bicycle when the opportunity arises. Well, it was a fitful sleep. I woke up every couple of hours, and my wife was apparently reading into the wee hours. A couple of times I thought I should just get up and run and get it over with. But I did wait until 4am, and with much putzing around, especially after realizing it was cold and running inside to grab more clothes, finally started running at 5:30.<br /><br />Needless to say it was dark. But on top of that, it was foggy. You know how your highbeams don't work in the fog? Imagine a headlamp above your eyes, and perhaps you can envision the dancing water droplets that your field of vision, that look like something out of the Blair Witch Project. The trail is monochromatic in the dim light, and the recent rain makes the footing slippery. I note that my last minute grab of more layers was a mistake, as I tie my extra windbreaker to my pack.<br /><br />I was carrying the race map, but didn't grab a trail map despite thinking I should. When I ended up at a dead end, I sure wish I did. I ran around the area, looking for possible continuations of the trail, but eventually gave up and turned back. There I noticed I misinterpreted the direction of a "no trespassing sign", and picked up a trail, although I was hoping to have the assurance of a trail mark, assume that I'm now on Goldenrod Trail. I chug up and down hills, and as I clear the trees, I see some bright falling stars streak the sky. The sun gets higher, and I can make out the lake to the south. It doesn't make for a great photo, but I attempt it anyways.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30267183_6173.jpg" height=380></center><br /><br />Eventually it becomes light enough for me to put away the headlamp. I've only run the length of Goldenrod once before, and I'm glad to hit landmarks (water fountain with dog bowl) that are familiar. I find Jackson Grade, and continue along Brandon Trail. Then I start hearing voices, which I follow to find Bort Meadow. There I find Mark talking to Steve Holman. Mark is on his return trip.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30267216_4413.jpg" width=380></center><br /><br />After a brief chat, we continue on our way, him towards the lake, and me along MacDonald trail. My left knee starts to really bother me, and my legs are already tiring. My watch tells me it's been about 9.5 miles, and it's taken about 2 hours. Not very speedy. As I continue, the views now that I can see them are really spectacular in the morning light. I start meeting up with runners who left from the start, and try to snap pics of them as they pass. I don't get everyone, but I get quite a few. Be sure to check my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014188&l=6275b&id=1174843364">photo album</a> for your pics if you ran!<br /><br />The trail climbs somewhat before plunging down towards Redwood Rd. My knee doesn't hold up to much downhill running, though. A brief stint along Redwood Rd, I make it to Bridle trail, and am really surprised to come across the spot where rainbow trout were first identified. Probably because I grew up fishing for rainbow trout, thousands of miles away.<br /><br /><centeR><img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30267198_9703.jpg" width=380></center><br /><br />The trail is shaded by redwood trees. It's truly spectacular, flat, and the ground is soft. <br /><br /><centeR><img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30267202_715.jpg" height=380></center><br /><br />But the trail is long. I remember Bridle and Stream being on the <a href="http://www.pctrailruns.com/Sequoia_Wntr.htm">PCTR Sequoia</a> course, and distinctly remember they didn't feel as short as they are. I get lost as I don't cross the stream when I should, and continue until my current trail dead ends. Actually I hop a few barriers until it becomes obvious it isn't it. I turn around, find the bridge, and continue. I've eaten my only granola bar, and about 3 gels up to this point. I start wishing I brought more solid food.<br /><br />The trail still feels long, and gets longer, as I hit an uphill. I finally make it to the Skyline Gate, put my email on the clipboard, and turn around. My knee is particularly tender heading down the hill. I run when I can, but mostly try to work on my power-walk, and see if I can keep it around 17 min/miles. That works on the flats/downhills, but not so well on the uphills.<br /><br />I think the return trip to Redwood Rd is faster, and I'm happy to have the excuse of a hill to hike as I make way up MacDonald trail again. I start to see return runners, and they look strong!! I get to see Steve Holman again, and I tell him that I've been thinking about his PB&Js for hours. I eat about 2 sandwiches while talking to him. He's a natural aid station worker, it's like talking to a bartender.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1917/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30267211_3060.jpg" width=380></center><br /><br />I make some pretty good time walking, and I'm glad to see the lake again. My watch beeps at me at 6.5 hours to say it's low on battery. I hope I can make it back before it runs out. Somewhere, I take a turn too early, or too late, and I end up on Bass Cove, which probably shaves a couple of miles off. The last couple of miles are frustratingly slow. I can see the marina, but it's taking time. A friendly Australian Shepherd introduces herself, and I talk to the owner about my dog. He looks at me puzzled and asks why I wouldn't bring my dog out for a walk. I say I'm at mile 27, and not sure Cub would be good for it. <br /><br />Seven hours thirty seven minutes later, I make it back to my car for a total mileage of 28.5. My watch runs out of battery on the drive home. It was a fantastic day to be out on the trails, and the weather was perfect! My epiphanies include finding out that I cannot expect to go from a 9 mile long run (if I'm lucky) to a ~30 mile run without some difficulty. This was actually my first run since my birthday run too, so that's back to back ultras! It can be frustrating going so slow. It seems astonishing that in 2008 I did a 9:15 50 mile run, or a 3:43 SF marathon, or a 1:33 half marathon. I have a lot of work to do if I'm going to do a 100 mile run in 2009. But it's best to find that out in January! Another epiphany is that Fat Asses rock. It's helpful to have a run solidify a goal, and to have company on the trails. With the price of organized races these days, I'll try to take advantage of these as they come up.<br /><br />Happy birthday, John! Thank you for the race!Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-8109090451272019212008-12-24T15:41:00.000-08:002008-12-30T14:55:24.169-08:00It's the Years and the MileageSo 2008 is the year I cross over into the 40-44 age group, and to commemorate the event, I decided to run my age in miles. At first I thought I'd do this as a 50k (Pirate's Cove)+9 bonus miles. But then if I organized my own run, I could get some of my non-ultra running buddies to show up too. To accommodate such runners, I decided to make a loop course run, and allow runners to drop in, or out as they see fit. I live in Castro Valley where we have some hidden gems of trails, so it's a natural place for the run.<br /><br />I've kicked around these ideas in my head, and mentioned it on the Ultraholics yahoo group in October. Since it was so readily embraced, I decided to go for it. Of course, going in means going all in, so I had to put together a website, with graphics, finisher's awards, etc. Not to mention meticulous measuring of the course. And while doing so, I was trying to think of a way to keep track of laps, since I couldn't necessarily count on the aid station being manned the whole day. I thought about Barkeley and the method of tearing pages out of a book. I decided on playing cards, and then the idea came to make this a poker run; draw a card per lap, so the more laps you do, the better the chances you have of having a good hand. <br /><br />Vinod, an ultraholic, actually had a Rolatape surveyor's wheel, so I took that to the trail on two consecutive weekends to figure out a loop. After some fine tuning, I decided on a single 5.8 mile loop. I was a little worried. Marking the course was tiring, and I was only covering the loop once! <br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-a.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30243792_8084.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />The quote "It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage", from Raiders of the Lost Ark gives me a theme, and putting together the race logo is pretty easy, but does serve me a great opportunity to fool around with Photoshop. Once I had this, I could finally put up a <a href="http://www.lostcows.com/mileage_run">website!</a><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/mileage_run/mileage_run_logo.png" width=360></center><br /><br />I like finisher's award, so I had to provide something cool. At first, I thought belt buckles, but <a href="http://coursetrained.blogspot.com">Adam Blum</a> said those should be reserved for 100 or 100+ milers. Considering the time of year, Christmas ornaments would be very appropriate, and easy to have made up by Cafepress. So I jut had to put together some graphics. I decided on showing runners of different ages, and pared it down to three: a baby, an adult, and an old timer represented by Santa Claus. Did some quick pencil sketches, scanned, and coloured them in photoshop, and I had something I could drop onto real backgrounds.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/mileage_run/mileage_runners.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />My idea was to provide different awards depending on the number loops completed. But I kept it simple (just two levels; sub-ultra, and ultra) so I wouldn't be stuck with a bunch of unearned ornaments. Because I was busy with our annual Christmas party, I didn't get these ordered until the Monday before the race, and had to rely on some expensive shipping to get 'em. But I think it was worth it. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247478_7472.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />I also started brewing a porter, that would be bottled just before the race. Three days before the race, I bottled. Two days before I made the graphics for the labels, and the night before labeled.<br /><center><img src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247477_7188.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />So that's all before the race. December involved many late hours with it all, and the week before, I think I saw 2:30 am three times. And I still have a race to actually run!<br /><br />My actual birthday was the day before, and naturally included a couple of beers but also involved gathering last minute supplies (and labeling beer as mentioned above), but most of all writing the course description. Because the course weaves in and out of the Five Canyons neighbourhood, it can be quite convoluted on the surface, and it took hours to write the description. I finally turn in at 1:30am, and I'm up at 6. I skip my usual pre-race routine, and I think breakfast. Mark beats me by hitting the trails at 4am, I get there around 7:30 and start setting up. I complete before the 8am start time but no one's there, so I decide to hang around for one of the two runners who started early (Jean Pommier and Mark Tanaka). <br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247446_429.jpg" height=360></center><br /><br /><a href="http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com">Jean Pommier</a> comes up first. So he returned from France the day before, and started the race early, so he could attend his son's presentation for his UN club. I've seen him a few times, but haven't had the pleasure of talking to him before! He beckons me to run with him, but I tell him I'm waiting to greet Mark as well, and possibly accompany him on his last lap.<br /><br /><a href="http://ultrailnaka.blogspot.com">Mark</a> comes up to the aid station around 8:45, and we head out together, attacking the loop in his recommended clockwise direction. Mark's pace is perfect, probably because it's my first loop and his 5th! My dog, Cub, is glad the waiting is over, and the running can start.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247471_8109.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />The weather is perfect, but cold. Frost sprinkles the ground at 9am, but I'm happy since both the day before and the day after sees rain. Having been on my course twice, I know it offers some incredible, and rather unexpected views. On one side, you can see the bay, all the way to San Francisco. And on the other side, there's Dublin, Pleasanton, Danville, and Livermore. It's cool to see the frost on the shadowed side of the hills.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247450_1590.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br /><centeR><img src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247475_9465.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />Mark and I head down the hill, and through the forest along the chilly, shaded Shady Canyon trail. As we head up another hill, Jean comes barreling down.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247455_3081.jpg" height=360></center><br /><br />We make our way to the aid station in about 70 minutes, and as we loiter, Jean appears again.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247458_3977.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />Mark gets permission for one more lap, so the three of us head out for the second loop, this time counter-clockwise. Mark proves to be correct. Clockwise seems significantly easier: steep climbs, gradual downhills are easier than gradual uphills and steep downhills. Jean holds back, but that means pushing the pace for me. On some of the steeper downhills, I find that my new shoes do not prevent my toes from mashing painfully. Jean, on the other hand, gets into the zone as he "floats" as he puts it. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247460_4574.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />We complete the loop in an hour, and I immediately change into my old, worn trail shoes. Jean heads out for his last lap, and Mark heads home, having complete 6 (34.8 miles). I notice on the time-sheet that Leo Wong and my brother Shung have arrived, and are out on the trail. I meet up with my brother, about a mile in, as I hit the loop clockwise. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247462_5187.jpg" width=360><p></center><br /><br />We cross Leo a couple more miles in.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247465_6132.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />I start having some trouble here, as my legs begin cramping, and my feet and ankle start hurting. I've been fighting tendonitis around my ankle, which is really painful on the downhills. The fourth lap is really hard, as I start cramping at the slightest bit of exertion. We're doing it counter-clockwise so I can see Leo one more time. I haven't been paying enough attention to my electrolytes, I'm thinking as I hobble my way back to the aid station. I'm hoping that I'm not making the run too boring for my brother. There, I find Matt Ward has shown up, hoping to accompany me on my last two laps, not my last three. Leo has completed his two laps in around 3 hours. Trish, and the kids are there, with some hot soup that totally hits the spot. It's very uplifting.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247467_6767.jpg" width=360><br><small><i>Mason, Alison, Matt, Shung, and Trish</i></small></center><br /><br />It becomes clear, I'm going to have company the whole way. The electrolytes kick back in, and I'm able run when it's not too steep. I bump into a ranger at the top of the first hill, and she tells me Hao's looking for me. I call him back, and we figure out how to catch each other, and he accompanies me for about half a lap. It's great to meet him, and I'm honoured that he's driven so far to run so little with a busy schedule. We complete my fifth loop (clockwise), and my friend Eric calls. He's about 15 minutes away, so we hang around for him to show up. Eric has his girlfriend Constance in tow, who plans on hiking a loop. Darkness falls quickly, and we only have one flashlight between us. Eric runs back and forth between us, and Constance. She finally decides to head off the trail, and back to the car, though, but at that point Eric's run around an entire lap. The going is thankfully slow as the trail if very faintly lit. My wife drops by headlamps at the aid station, but we're still 2 miles away. Finally, around 6pm, we make it to the aid station. We dine on some hot soup, and the feeling of cold and stiffness sets in, and I finally decide to stop, one loop short. <br /> <br />We head home, for beer and pizza. Mark drops by with his brother in tow, and enjoys some liquid and solid carbs. <br /><br /><centeR><img src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1383/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30247469_7418.jpg" width=360></center><br /><br />It's a little disappointing to not complete 40 miles, and also to run 34.8 miles so slowly, but hey, with my long distance training off, it's not entirely unexpected. But it was a great way to spend the day. I didn't expect to have company the entire time and it was great to have so many friends to run with. Thanks to my family for their help and tolerance, and to Mark for marking the trail, to Alison and her family for letting me use their driveway, and all the fantastic runners for showing up! Thanks for helping to celebrate my milestone!<br /><br />Links to other race reports!<br /><a href="http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-birthday-baldwyn.html">Jean Pommier</a><br /><a href="http://www.mmpoolboy.com/blog/running/my-brothers-run-your-age">Shung Chieh</a><br /><a href="http://ultrailnaka.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-years-and-mileage-baldwyns-birthday.html">Mark Tanaka</a>Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8611172441220338501.post-65563548383016696682008-11-02T23:19:00.001-08:002008-11-09T00:50:45.183-08:00Not quite a hat trick<b>The Excuses</b><br />After the San Francisco marathon, I came up with a training schedule with the intention of qualifying for Boston at the Silicon Valley marathon. It was a tough 10 week training schedule that I put up on my cubicle wall at work. I resolved to lose weight, and stick to a healthy diet. Well, I guess that was a start.<br /><br />My son was due on August 25th. In the meantime there was a mad scrambling of installing hardwood floors, arranging the baby room, hosting family, trying to finish a project at work. There was not so much time for running or sleeping. <br /><br />The morning of August 23rd, my wife was having "gas pains", and noticed they were coming regularly. So she began timing them. The first thing I did was log onto work to try and frantically wrap things up there. Eventually, we decided to go to the hospital, at which point the contractions began coming fast and furious. There was screaming for drugs. Then there was some pushing, and record time, my son Mason was born. <br /><center><img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v336/76/60/1174843364/n1174843364_30131089_177.jpg"></center><p><br /><br />At the same time, I finally succumbed to a cold, that would linger for the next two weeks. My daughter started second grade, and then turned 8 years old on Sept 10th, and then we had a party, and then I caught another cold.<br /><br />So you see where this is headed. A distinct lack of training. In fact, I had originally intended to do the San Jose Hat Trick, like I did last year. It consists of the Almaden Times 10k, the San Jose Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon, and the Silicon Valley Marathon. I was already signed up for two, might as well do the 10k, right? Nope, I was still fighting a cold that Sunday morning, and felt the $30 registration would be better off buying diapers.<br /><br /><b>San Jose Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon</b><br />I've run the San Jose Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon every year since it's inception. Woo. Ok, that's only three runnings (including 2008) so far. The course isn't too special, although it is pretty flat and fast. The Elite Racing franchise do a good job of dressing up a city course with bands and spectators, and giving it curb appeal. It's a popular formula, and seems to attract the whole spectrum of runners. In 2007, it was magical. I had run 5 (road) half marathons before that race, each one (including the first RNRSJHM) with a finishing time between 1:48 and 1:51. At my very first half-marathon, I set a target of 1:45. That day, I ran so easily and so fast, I shattered my expectations with a 1:37:53. It felt amazing, like I took a leap forward in my running, and I had to start breaking down those "minute/mile" barriers in my head (like sub-8 m/m sounded near impossible for a half-marathon up until then).<br /><br />So on the morning of Oct 5th, when I woke up for the 2008 race, I felt like this year's trend of PRing every course I've re-run would end. I didn't feel eager to run. I ate a bowl of cereal, had some coffee, and headed down on my motorcycle. The weather is perfect. Cool, sunny, feels like a crisp fall day. It might get warm later (and it does) but the race is short enough for that not to matter. I parked at my friend Eric's house, and he gave me a ride to the start. It was fantastic, really, because this was one of the first times I can think of where I didn't have to stress in line for a porta potty. This race has staggered starts, and I'm in corral 1, behind the E's. After the national anthem (how come we don't have national anthems at trail runs? I think trail runs should start with all participants singing the anthem off-key), the countdown begins, and we start. Mile one starts off a little slow, but rapidly speeds up. I weave my way to the part of the pack running at the pace I'd like to. As I always do, I try to convince myself to slow down, but it doesn't really work, and I hit the 1 mile mark in 7 minutes.<br /><br />Wait a second, the 1 mile mark in 7 minutes? Ok, so it's a little fast, but I'm feeling ok, and so I decide to try and hold it. I hit mile 2 in around 14 minutes. Well, ok, I decide to make a real race of this, and holding my pace. As I hit Santa Clara Ave, I see Eric and his boys out cheering, and it's a great to hear them calling my name. I remember hitting the 10k mark in something like 45 minutes, which is not far off from what I run a 10k in these days. (Want to know what sucks? Garmin Training Center, and Garmin Connect not being able to show you your time elapsed at a given distance!!) I start doing math in my head, and decide that not only could I PR, but I could possibly go sub 1:30. At around the 3/4 mark though, it becomes clear that I don't have a strong enough kick to go sub 1:30. Which I'm completely cool with. When I'm having a good day, I rarely take in calories or drink. In fact, I think I only had one cup of water on this race around mile 10. I start tiring, and expect my pace has fallen off a bit, but once I see the finish-line balloon arch, I pick it up. My friend Matt surprises me by calling my name, and I wave as I sprint for the final .1 miles. I hit the finish mat at 1:33:12. Whoa. That's a pretty awesome feeling.<br /><br />After I make my way through the finish line food (no sandals this year :( ), I meet up with Matt, and we find the Widmer's Booth where I get my one free beer. You know beer is pretty strong at 10am. He drives me back to Eric's place, where we kick back for a bit, with coffee and table tennis.<br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/2008_rnr_sj_medal1.jpg"></center><br /><br /><b>Silicon Valley Marathon</b><br />Ok, so three weeks after the Rock and Roll Half Marathon is Silicon Valley. I had given up dreams of Boston Qualifying because of my lack of training. But buoyed by my performance at San Jose, I start thinking I need to give it a try. I do a lot of applying of the 4 second rule. <br /><br />From the <a href="http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-238-244--11977-0,00.html">Runner's World Website</a>:<br /><ul><i><br />The Four-Second Rule was developed by British distance coach Frank Horwill, who observed that most runners' paces per every 400 meters will increase by about four seconds as they move up from one "classic" race distance to the next. For example, a runner who races a 10-K in 40:00 clocks 96 seconds for every 400 meters. In the half-marathon (the next classic distance), he can expect his 400-meter pace to be about 100 seconds. Based on your finishing time for any race distance from the quarter mile to the marathon, you can figure out approximate 400-meter times for any race in between, which helps you determine how fast you should run your speed workouts.</ul></i><br /><br />Some I'm somewhere in between:<br /><center><img src="http://www.runnersworld.com/images/cma/chart4.jpg"></center><br />and<br /><center><img src="http://www.runnersworld.com/images/cma/chart5.jpg"></center><br /><br />Since I'll be 40 on Boston Marathon Race Day 2009, my qualifying time is 3:20:59. Maybe I can do this! I think about getting one 18-miler in two weeks before race day, but the weekends are still mad busy, and it doesn't happen. In fact, I take a Friday off to try and fix the furnace, and go to the DMV, and somehow end up tweaking my right knee. The tendons to the left of the knee joint. Very painful, but I suspect if I maintain good mechanics won't affect my running. I still keep off of it for the most part though, and get the bright idea to ride my bicycle into work (32 miles) the Monday before race day for conditioning.<br /><br />My strategy is simply to run the first half in 1:40, and the second half in 1:40:59. If I can bank a couple of minutes in the first half, even better. I wouldn't bet that I could qualify for Boston, but I felt comfortable enough to bet my friend Allen 5 beers (happy hour priced) that I could beat 3:31. So I have a bunch of goals to work through: 3:20:59 to qualify for Boston, sub 3:30, sub 3:31, and to beat my PR of 3:43:55 set on the same course, and later tied at SFM. I express my goal of Boston Qualifying, and even comment to <a href="http://coursetrained.blogspot.com">Adam Blum</a> that he should pace me after he finishes running the first half of the marathon (he's sworn off road marathons, but can sneak in the occasional half, I guess).<br /><br />My brother is running his first marathon in the same race, so we get together to head to the Expo on Saturday. SVM used to have a pretty nice Expo, but since its moved into the lobby of a hotel, it's lost some of the shopping appeal. I stopped buying running gear at Expos anyways, but the $3 tech race shirt from 2006 (which I did run) is too hard to pass up. SVM's tech race shirts are some of my favourite running shirts. I hand my $3 to JT Service, Mr. Race Director and speedy marathoner himself. My brother is had a tough last long run of 18 miles. It sounds like he's put effort in training though. My last long run was August, and that was the San Francisco marathon. I ran well at that race, and didn't have the best training then either, so I'm cocky, but afraid that my cockiness is founded on quicksand.<br /><br />Sunday morning, the alarm goes off at 4:45, and I start getting ready. My daughter has a horse show the same day, and my wife's alarm goes off at 5. It's kind of nice to have company in this pre-dawn darkness. I eat cereal again, drink coffee, forget to bring water with me, and head out.<br /><br />After finding parking, I jog across the street, and my legs feel tight and tired. Uh oh. I hit the porta potty lines, thinking I should have arranged something with Eric again, but oh well. I make my way to the front to see if I can find Rajeev. He calls out, and it's good to see a familiar face. He says Ron and Adam from the Ultraholics are somewhere in the crowd at the starting line, but I don't see them. I try to find my brother, but can't find him. The crowd is much smaller than R&R SJ, and there's no staggered start, pacers or anything like that.<br /><br />The horn goes off, and I'm running maybe 7:10 minute miles. The race starts in San Jose, and about the first 5 miles are on city streets. After that, we take Los Gatos Creek trail Los Gatos high school. I hit the 6 mile mark perhaps in 46, 47 minutes, with lots of time banked. But I can't keep it up. I'm drinking early, and often. I think I had to stop and drink about 6 or 7 cups at mile 7. This is not a good sign. Somewhere I accumulated about 5 minutes in the bank, and I steadily start withdrawing. Gah, what's going on? Not enough recovery from the half? Naw. Too recent of a long bike ride? I hope that's it.<br /><br />Some portions of the trail get a little hilly; nothing like San Francisco, or trail runs, or even what I do on a weekly basis. But today they're taking their toll on my legs. Not good not good. I hit the half-marathon point in around 1:41, hoping that Adam isn't there to pace me.<br /><br />He is, and he tells me he's going to pace me for two miles before heading to breakfast. It's great to have the company, and he talks easily, and says all the right things. I'm off pace, I think we're going low 8 m/m. We head up a hill after the half-marathon mark, and weave through some streets in Los Gatos. We talk about races, and I finally get to ask him about Tahoe Rim Trail, and get a good dose of fear for thinking about doing my first 100 miler there. Still undecided. Still need a buckle for my first 100. Let's see how I do for some spring Ultras. Every time I try to speed up, I feel my muscles cramping. That's not good. He leaves me at mile 15, and I try to soldier on at that pace, but eventually, cramping shuts me down. I have to stop and stretch. He makes some comment about having to battle baby strollers as I'm about to join up with the Los Gatos Creek Trail, but fortunately, the locals are keeping their babies inside where they belong this day. I pop salt-tabs, take in a gel, but it doesn't change the tide, it just lets me soldier on at a pathetic 10-11 m/m pace.<br /><br />But soldier on is what I gotta do, and my math shows me that I'm not going to win beer, and in fact unless my legs turn around, a PR isn't going to happen either. I'm good for going sub 4 hours at least. At the very least it's practice for trudging along in a slow run, rather than succumbing to the walk. At one point, a redheaded, yellow-garbed runner blasts by carrying a bunch of balloons. I yell out to <a href="http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com">Jean Pommier</a>, and he gets momentarily distracted but doesn't turn around. I do find him at mile 21 getting ready to walk with <a href="http://fartherfaster.blogspot.com/2008/10/dear-tom-live-strong-and-long.html">Tom Kaisersatt</a>, who is completing his progressive marathon. Tom who is a veteran ultra-marathoner, has run every Silicon Valley Marathon. He found out this year that he has lung cancer (a type associated with exposure to asbestos), and scheduled his chemo so he could peak on marathon day. I wish I knew what was going on, I would have joined the supporting runners at this point. I was even wearing yellow.<br /><br />I'm surprised at the number of people who don't pass me. The trail looks like its littered with wounded soldiers. What the heck, don't these people know about trying to run even splits? I try to rally, but my legs are dead, and my feet are hurting. My knee, however feels fine. Go figure.<br /><br />Thankfully, the miles eventually pass, and I convince myself to at least go sub 3:50. I spot my sister-in-law, Linda, near the finish, and I cross the line 3:49:41. Yay! I'm starving and spend a lot of time in the finish area, before I go looking for Linda.<br /><br />We wait for my brother to come in, and Linda starts to get worried as she says she's noticing the level of pain increasing. My brother shows up, and crosses the line at 4:25:23. He doesn't look too wiped out either. Congrats, Shung! <br /><br />We bump into Adam again, who had joined in with the Tom supporters, and also just finished pacing another friend to the finish of her first marathon. He sure knows how to make the most of a half marathon. Matt Ward shows up too, which means more post-race beer. <br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.lostcows.com/races/misc/2008_svm_medal1.jpg"></center><br /><br /><b>The Aftermath</b><br /><br />What can I say? Well, I've said this a bunch of times, but what I learnt from my first marathon was to respect the distance. If you want to race, you got to train. I think all the regular hill running I've been doing is helping my speed, but I need to keep up the distance if I want to do well at longer races. I suppose if I wanted a better time, I should have slowed to an easier pace when I realized I was struggling; but my goal was fairly binary; Boston or no-Boston. It's not that I'm obsessed with Boston, I feel it's well within my reach, and will be cool to run. <br /><br />But then again, my friend who inspired me to try for Boston this year, IS still running it next year, despite a layoff. Hmmm, CIM is supposed to be a fast course. And <a href="http://rajeevtherunner.blogspot.com/">Rajeev</a> will be there and is promising a party. Is one month long enough to train and shave 30 minutes off my last time?Baldwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00267565460426366034noreply@blogger.com1