Kicking Off 2012 Like I Know What I'm Doing

First person race recaps that don't start with disclaimers or excuses are always best - for both the reader and the author - and I'm proud to say that I have no preface for my 2012 Rocky Raccoon 100 race synapsis, so here we go!

With the repetitive nature of a loop course, I doubt anybody wants to read a mile-by-mile play-by-play, so instead, I'll mention the highlights and time-splits that broke the monotony of suffering for a long time. (Also, after a while the scenery and distance all starts to blend together into a rain-soaked mush, so I couldn't get too detailed if I tried.)

To get things rolling, race morning began with a reinactment of The Flood, minus Noah and ark full of animals. Holly, Eric (crew chief extraordinaire), and I sat in the car counting down the final minutes before the race start, all the while in complete awe of the storm. We'd almost gone off the road while driving 10 mph, so how in the world was running 100 miles going to treat a guy?! Coupled with the fierce lightning, at least I had the backup option of getting electricuted early and not having to suffer all day and night...

Lap 1 - Splish Splash
20 Mile Time: 2:32

Around mile 2.5 the rain had backed off slightly and the feet were still dry, which was my main goal for lap 1. The longer I could delay the onset of blisters, the better, but when it came time to negotiate the first major flash-flood, I tripped on a hidden root and went face first into the water. Every square inch of my body was submersed... so much for dry feet. This was a blessing in disguise though, because now I could just take the path of least resistance when I encountered mud or water and didn't need to pussy-foot around.

The downside(s)? Apparently my Timex lost it's waterproof-ness when I recently changed the battery, and water tends to fry electronics. So much for knowing my splits or when to eat and take salt. From here on, I had to rely on feel and just listen to my body, and use the aid stations as a rough estimate of time.

This little swim also jacked up my headlamp, and it was now out of commission for night duties later on. I had to survive about 35 more minutes with terrible light and rolled my ankle several times. I made a mental note to high-step more than usual and that I better not sprain my ankle less than 10 miles into a 100. Apparently it worked, because after the sun came up, I didn't really have ANY more falls or close calls!

Lap 2 - Finding a Rhythm
40 Mile Time: 5:17

This stretch was all about backing off and setting a comfortable (using the term loosely), sustainable pace. Going out in 2:32 had been a bit of a risk, but then again, you can't have epic success without risking epic failure. I ended up doing this lap in a more comfortable 2:45 with the only noteworthy events being a brief break from the rainfall, along with my 2nd poo break of the day. I could already tell my bowels were going to hold up much better than at Leadville last summer.

Lap 3 - PR and Pain
60 Mile Time: 8:14

At this point I realized lap 3 brought with it the incentive of a new 50 mile PR, but not having a watch anymore, I could only guess what that actual number might be. From asking other runners and the aid station volunteers, it appears I went through 50 in about 6:39. Here I realized that I would most likely get my goal of 16:30 - barring any disasters.

Shortly after mile 53-ish, the blisters that had been forming on a couple of my toes decided to burst and ooze... yet, I surprisingly just didn't care. I was running strong - having not walked a step yet - and realized from my past experiences, that while painful, blisters shouldn't be a major concern or hinderance. So on I pushed...

Lap 4 - I Hate Josh
80 Mile Time: 11:28

I continued my pattern of changing socks after each lap (which ended up costing me an extra 17 minutes over the course of the day), and hit the course again. This time, while telling my crew what I needed before heading back out, I informed them that I needed a pacer to at least get me to the first aid station, otherwise, I would not be able to get going again. Eric volunteered, and after the now-traditional kiss and "I love you" to Holly, we started running again as I braced myself for what I remember as the toughest lap in 2010.

To my surprise, my legs were able to start turning over again, and I soon was running solo after about a mile. My next huge mental boost came when I passed Ian Sharman and his pacer just before the Nature Center (mile 63). It was unfortunate to see him in that condition, but it gave me the surge I needed to continue on. I still hadn't walked a step, and was now determined to keep that streak alive until at least mile 80.

(Still running at 63 miles)

Shortly thereafter, I encountered Josh Katzman for what was probably the 5th or 6th time of the day. We had never been more than 5 minutes apart at any point, and we ended up running the remainder of lap #4 together. It was both fatiguing and motivating at the same time: On the one hand it was great to have someone to commiserate with off and on for close to 80 miles, but on the other, it made me push myself way past my comfort zone when I really didn't care to.

My favorite part was when we both had our pacers beside us and were running up one of the steeper hills towards the end of lap 4. Josh asked: "How are you feeling?", to which I clearly lied "Great!", in more of a grunt than spoken word. I reciprocated: "You?", to which I received the same lie "Great!"... it got a laugh from the pacers, and now that I'm not suffering, I can look back and laugh at it as well. Ah, the psychological games...

In all honesty, it was great having Josh around for so much of the day, and I'd like to think we both pushed each other to our very respectable times of 14:58 and 15:36. (He held on for 5th place.)

Lap 5 - I Hate Meredith
Final Time: 14:58

When I saw that I was only at 11:28 for 80 miles, I decided to forego the last sock change in hopes of getting the pain over with sooner. I also knew that Meredith Terranova - who had paced Ian Sharman to his win last year - was going to be helping me once I got to mile 83. She had brought me through the last few miles of lap 4 after Ian dropped, and had told me she would pace me for the rest of the race as long as she got a quick break to grab some food and a headlamp.

I had STILL not walked a step, and she was determined to keep it that way, even though I was not! At mile 86, she needed to take a quick pit-stop, and told me not to wait for her, but that she would catch up with me in a mile or so. Why did I soon hate Meredith? That mile turned into 6. We finally reconvened at mile 92, and I was not in a very talkative mood. Not only had I just endured a pity-party for almost an hour, but I'd crapped my pants in the process... literally.

About 5 minutes later I told her how much I hated her, but after some negotiating, we decided that a sub-15:30 would be her redemption, and that she would achieve BFF status if she helped make it happen.

At mile 95.5-ish I saw my crew for the last time, and asked the time as we were heading out of the aid station: 14:20. I said my goodbyes and resumed running. I dreaded it, but I was now going to push through the pain and run every step, no matter what. The mental exhaustion of pushing when every fiber of your body is seizing up and begging for relief, is indescribable. While this course is no Leadville, my desire to go fast made me suffer and hurt more than at any point in my 3 Leadville finishes. I'd like to think I'm now a stronger person because of it.

At long last we crested the final hill and I tossed my water bottle and went into sprint-mode. Meredith had avoided the question of time for the last 4.5 miles and so I really didn't know what to expect when the race clock finally came into view... 14:58.xx... I couldn't believe it!

Oh yeah, in case you're wondering, I don't hate Meredith anymore!
Results can be found here: http://tejastrails.com/docs/Rocky_res_2012.html

(Post-race boatramp reinactment)

(In the medical tent with one of my biggest motivations!)

In conclusion, it was the race of my life so far. Not only because of my time, but because of the great people I got to spend the weekend with. Having Holly, Eric, Marc, Amanda, Dan, Karen, Andy, Melissa, and Amy as housemates, crew members, and fellow racers was a blast!

(Post race toe-carnage. At least 4 nails are goners...)

Everyone who's run a marathon (or farther) will appreciate this one:



While I ran the whole race without music, I did have a good one stuck in my head:

2012 Rocky Raccoon Predictions

(1/30/12 - THIS JUST IN: Hal Koerner is now on the entrants list!)

The taper is on!
With nothing to do this week but geek out about running while not actually doing any running, I'll post my prediction for next weekends big race. This year's field is by far, much less competitive than 2011, with a couple notable exceptions, aka Ian Sharman (RR100 record holder), Karl Meltzer (Mr. Hardrock), and Oswaldo Lopez (2011 Badwater winner).

While fully expecting these guys to decimate the rest of the competition, it still puts me in a position to potentially snag my first top-10 finish at a 100 miler. For whatever reason, I have had relative success at the 50 mile distance, but these 100's still escape me.

With cautious optimism, here's how I predict the race unfolding:

1. Ian Sharman; for obvious reasons. Predicted time: 13:12
2. HAL KOERNER; last minute entrant and my obvious 2nd place choice. Predicted time: 13:24
3. Karl Meltzer; he's a machine with more 100 mile experience than anyone else in the field. Predicted time: 14:14
4. Oswaldo Lopez; not too familiar with this guy, but looking at past race times, I could see him running sub-15. Predicted time: 14:55
5. Dan Vega; he beat Karl at a fast 100 miler last spring in 15:35. I think he'll be a little quicker here. Predicted time: 15:20
6. Liza Howard; I see her continuing her streak of improved 100 miler times. Predicted time: 15:25.
7. Tony Clark; he's run sub-17 before, so I expect him to do it again. Predicted time: 15:50
8. Brooks Williams; without any other names jumping out at me, I see a spot with my name on it. Predicted time: 16:31
9. From here on, it's a crap-shoot...
10. ---

Who'd I miss?!

Brooks

Newfound Confidence

As I mentioned in my last post, I found out I'd be running the San Juan Solstice 50 miler on short notice. This being the case, my expectations - along with my training - were not very impressive. I had just barely started breaking the 50 miles per week barrier in training again after my long post-Collegiate Peaks hiatus, and this isn't exactly the mileage necessary to succeed at a mountain 50 that many tout as the hardest in North America.

This made for an interesting attitude and dynamic going into last weekend...
Basically, I was planning on participating in a gorgeous 50 mile "fun-run" with no time goals whatsoever (sub-12 was all I really hoped for in the back of my mind) that would ultimately serve as good Leadville training. Also because of not planning on running this one, I had no transportation or lodging arrangements going into the week of the race. Here, I have to thank Andy Wooten and his girlfriend Melissa for letting me tag along on the ride down and back, and for providing me a roll-out bed to sleep on in their cabin - not sleeping on the floor goes a long way to a succesful race!

 Friday was filled with traveling down to Lake City, eating as much as possible, and attending the pre-race meeting and packet pick up. Having only gotten a couple hours of sleep the night before, I had no problem calling it an early night after the necessary pre-race prep. Speaking of which, check out the real secret to my newfound speed:



(Feel fast. Be fast. Thanks, Holly)



Before I get to the race recap itself, here's a link to the race website, as well my very loose synapsis of the SJS 50 - solely based on personal perception after hearing two years' worth of musings by other runners. http://web.me.com/grayj923/San_Juan_Solstice_50_Mile_Race/Welcome.html

San Juan: Run to 13000 ft. Descend to 9000 ft. Repeat. Run through a river. Run through some snow. Start to dry off. Repeat. Run along the Continental Divide and pray you don't get struck by lightning. Basically, just plan on suffering. ALL DAY. This is the only 50 miler I've encountered which requires a 16 hour cut-off time, thus the reason for the late-June race date on the Saturday nearest the summer solstice on June 21st. Generally, if you talk to the experienced mountain runners in the U.S. they will almost invariably say the toughest 50 they've run is either San Juan, Jemez, or Zane Grey.

This year however, due to record snow and runoff levels, a new "alternate-alternate" course had to be used. The route that was decided upon actually had slightly more vertical over more climbs - 13000+ ft of gain spread amongst 4 ascents - but lacked the river crossings, and the same amount of mileage on the Continental Divide. When all was said and done, it sounds like this was an equally difficult course, just for different reasons.

(Heading out to suffer all day. Fun.)

To the race...

Climb #1 of 4 starts about 1.5 miles into the race and is the "baby" of the 4. This is good, as it primes you for the real hell that comes later. On this first ascent, I started about 15 people back from the leaders and went down from there. I wasn't having any problems, I just didn't want to burn out my calves early, so I hiked it at a moderate pace, even stopping twice to answer natures call(s). This climb up Vickers Ranch was crested about 1:30 into the race and we then began the descent to the mile 11 aid station.

Side note: Neither the climbs, nor the descents are pleasant at San Juan. They are uncomfortably steep in both directions, thus the reason it has earned the nickname Hardrock Jr. or Hardrock Lite.

Anyway, on this descent, I along with about 50 other runners got off course at various times and points. Thankfully, I was only misguided for a half mile or so, and soon ran into another group who was just getting back on track. Here I was surprised to see Karl Meltzer just ahead and ended up running with him into the Silver Coin aid station. I stocked up on GU's and fluid and prepared for the first 'real' climb of the day.

I now relaxed and told myself I didn't have to push climb #2 since there needed to be something left in the tank for later. This caused me to power hike most of the climb with a little running interspersed here and there. Surprisingly, without spending much effort, I began passing runner after runner on this section, finally cresting after almost an hour and a half of climbing right as Karl came back into my sights (he had left me in his dust at the previous aid station). There was some confusion while running the high ridges before the descent, and thankfully another runner saw me and yelled in order to keep me on course. Looking back, had I taken the wrong turn to my left, I would have missed out on an extra 1/2 mile of suffering that I would have regretted in the end... masochistic, I know.

On this first LONG descent which eventually took us to the mile 22 aid station, I started to have my first major issues of the day, and they came in bunches:

1. Knees and quads started hurting
2. Bowel problems - Poo #2
3. Vomitting ensued.

The puking was due to choking on a salt tablet, so it was no big deal as long as I was able to replenish fluids at the next aid station. I was more concerned with self-preservation than placement at this point, so I gladly allowed a handful of runners to overtake me as I approached the aid station. Once there, I took my shoes and socks off and made my one long pit-stop of the day. Rather than worrying about the lost time, I deemed it necessary if I was going to finish the race at all.

After attending to my fuel, fluid, and foot issues (I taped some toes), I hit what had to be the worst part of the course, the seemingly never ending gravel treadmill of death. I had flashbacks of the long road sections at Leadville that seem so easy, but quickly defeat and crush you. I was reduced to the point where I was walking some gradual uphill sections when I ran into Ben (Diana Finkels' husband) and began talking with him. This seemed to greatly increase both of our spirits, and we were able to sustain a run together for the majority of this 5-ish mile section.

Climb #3 was a welcome change of scenery from the road, despite it seeming like a never-ending haul up to the Yurt Aid Station. It was tough not knowing when or where the aid station would be; all they told us in the pre-race briefing was that it would depend on how bad the jeep roads were (snow and mud), and that it would be somewhere between miles 31 and 34. I hadn't seen a soul in over an hour and had no idea what place I was in overall, when I caught my first glimpse of another runner near the top. It ended up being my buddy Mike Patrizi, and it was nice to both see a familiar face, and also realize I was making up ground on other runners. This was the first time all day that I started to smell blood and get my competitive juices flowing. After this I overtook two more runners as we ran on the Continental Divide, despite having bowel movement #3 somewhere around mile 33.

At the aid station I wasted no time in filling up my water bottles and slamming down some Coke since I was really looking forward to the long downhill that was coming. After a couple hours of labored breathing, I looked forward to switching to the pain of downhill running... at least it would be my knees hurting and not my lungs. Right before leaving the aid station, I asked what position I was in and how far behind the previous runner I was. To my surprise, they said I was in 6th and that Duncan Callahan had gone through about 5 minutes earlier.

Game on.

After another mile or so on the Divide, there was an open uphill section that afforded me a view for about a half mile ahead of me, and this was when I caught my first glimpse of Duncan. I soon hit the long, steep, and rocky downhill jeep road to the Slum Gullion aid station and started to really open it up with hopes of gaining on the Leadville 100 champ.

About 2 miles from the aid station I was bombing down the mountain, keeping my eyes focused on the technical trail in front of me, when I happened to briefly look up and see a giant kitty cat dart in front of me and up the hill to my right. Yep; that just happened.

Seeing a 120lb (+/-) mountain lion less than 30 yards away has a startling affect on an unarmed and depleted runner who has been on his feet for almost 8 hours. At first it didn't really sink in, but once I fully realized what I just saw, I proceeded to find a gear I never knew I had. Mix this reckless abandon with all the grunting and growling and arm-flailing I was doing, and I must have been a sight to see. Thankfully, this was the last I saw of Mr. Catamount, and I soon was at the aid station telling my story. Here I also got a huge surge of adrenalin after hearing I was still only about 5 minutes behind Duncan, and from getting cheered through by Dakota Jones and Scott Jurek.

Quickly it was back to the trail, and within 5 minutes I was beginning the final climb of the day. Before sacrificing all the energy left in my tank, I decided to lighten my load one last time in the bushes. This made it a total of 4 bowel movements on the day, not to mention a vomit break, and 3 or 4 pee breaks...
Anyway, I knew that it wasn't going to be a fun climb, but at least the hard work would be over after I crested. Finally, about 1/2 mile from the top, I entered the meadow at the top of Vickers and not only saw Duncan only 2 minutes ahead, but another runner far off in the distance: Karl Meltzer.

At this point I was confident I could overtake Duncan on the climb, but the doubtful part was whether or not I could fend him off over the 5 mile descent to the finish line. Karl was probably 7 minutes ahead right here and I realized catching him was out of the question. Duncan and I crossed the top at the same time and after regaining our breath and chatting for a second, I decided it was time to run as hard as I possibly could until I finished or collapsed - whichever came first.

After several miles of running downhill with reckless abandon, I hit the final paved mile to the finish line, constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting to get reeled in, but it was not to be.

I cruised through the finish line 9 hours and 48 minutes, 13,000+ ft, 18 GU's, and 51.5 miles after starting my little jaunt through the mountains. I ended up 6th overall, about 4 minutes behind Karl. (Clearly the Yurt aid station had mis-quoted when they said I was in 6th at that point.)

(It was a good day for the C-Springs contingent.)

(El Conquistador and his booty.)

So back to the title of my post: Confidence.

I don't know if something is physically changing for me, or if I was just lucky on that particular Saturday, but I'm starting to consistently run with the lead pack guys, and I really can't process it yet. Regardless, I have a newfound confidence and predatory instinct going into the home stretch before Leadville. I'll have one more test before then when I race White River in about a month. Hopefully this will help to increase my confidence further as I hunt for a sub-19 hour Leadville 100.

2011 Collegiate Peaks 50

I'm a little bummed that I didn't get to writing this sooner - since the memories aren't burned as intensely into my brain as they were early in the week - but regardless, this years' edition of Collegiate Peaks was a memorable race and I had a completely full weekend with good friends.

My buddy Sean, who was going to be taking his first stab at the 50 mile distance, and I hit the road in the early afternoon on Friday with prospects of great weather all weekend. As I look back, it was really almost too nice, in that mother nature really cranked up the thermostat for the race on Saturday, and left me with a sunburn that would make a snake jealous. I'm still leaving a trail of dead skin everywhere I go almost a week later! Oops. When you're dumb in the head, your whole body suffers.

Friday evening consisted of checking into our hotel, having a minor-freakout when I realized I didn't bring my salt tablets (thanks for saving my bacon on that one, JT), and then meeting our friends Marc and Amanda - who were also racing on Saturday - for some food and beer at Eddyline Brewery. Marc was also planning to attempt the 50 mile distance for the first time.

(The pre-fight weigh-in between Sean and myself.)



In the weeks and months leading up to this race, thanks to Sean and Marc, I was reminiscently able to get small doses of the excitement and fear of the unknown that goes with taking ones first plunge into ultra-distance running. It was infectious and great to see that fire again. This went a long way to motivating me as well, because, even though running is a huge passion in my life, I do unintentionally find myself viewing races as just another day at the office from time-to-time. Being around these two, training with them, and being able to mentor - when needed or wanted - served to reignite the fire in me and remind me just how great it is to push our bodies to the limit and see where our personal boundaries lie. Thanks, guys.

Getting back to the story, Saturday morning arrived quickly after some surprisingly restful sleep, and the morning routine began. Marc and I decided to arrive at the race a little later than the rest of the gang and had about 30 minutes to lay out our drop bags, mingle, take potty breaks, and get mentally ready to suffer all day in the heat. When it's almost 50 degrees out at 6:00am at 8,000ft elevation, you know you're in for a doozy...

I lined up in front with the fast guys (Ryan Burch, Duncan Callahan, Dylan Bowman, Corey Hanson, etc.), took a deep breathe, and then began the routine... left foot, right foot, water, sugar, salt, repeat. This was my first attempt at the 50 mile distance this season, and I honestly was looking forward to the dull pain that comes with running for the equivalent of a normal work day, vs. the intense pain of pushing at your body's redline for a short period (ie: a road marathon, ie: Boston, ie: a 5k, ie: the Incline).

Within ten minutes the gloves and armsleeves were already gone, and it was time to suffer. I was running at a steady, relaxed pace for the first 8 miles and was still within eyesight of the leaders for about 6 of them. Once obligatory bowel movement #1 took me into the trees around mile 8, I rejoined the pack after losing about 10 positions and was quickly in my element. I really begin actually racing if I'm a ways behind in the pack and always do better playing the hunter, and not the hunted.

Sean caught me shortly thereafter and made the first pass of what would turn into many in our all day game of cat and mouse. This lead was short lived though as he had to stop for his first pit stop shortly thereafter. I held on for another mile or two, and then when I began walking to eat a GU, Sean quickly passed. This was during the long sustained uphill section leading to the mile 17 aid station, and knowing this ascent can take a lot out of a guy, I was content hanging back about 200-300 meters as long as I kept him in my sight. We crested this climb together and then after some strategic talk, we began our long descent to the turn around with the plan of sticking close together and letting gravity do the work while we saved our legs for later in the day. We had no idea where we were in relation to the rest of the pack, but looking at our watches, it seemed that we were on pace for about a 3:30-3:35 first lap, which I'd assumed would have put us only about 10-15 minutes back from the leader.

Wrong.

I was soon in for a surprise when I crossed paths with Ryan (who was on his second lap which goes the opposite direction and allows you to see where you are in relation to all the other runners) at the same spot as I saw Andy last year. The difference this time was that I was 10 minutes faster than the year before and yet I was just as far back in the field. It was obvious that if he held it together for the next 24 miles or so, that he had a Course Record in the bag. (That was exactly what happened, too, as he won with a time of 6:37, after a 3:09 first lap.)

I hit the Start/Finish area at 3:29 - about 1-2 minutes ahead of Sean - and made quick work of getting in and out. It ended up being only a 3 minute break, due in part to the fact there was no water to cross this year, which meant no shoe/sock changing. By the time I got out of there I had about a 3 minute lead on Sean, with several other 50 mile runners within 2-5 minutes of us.

On the long climb after the turnaround, I was quickly made aware of the price I'd be paying for the rest of the afternoon... 1) It was HOT. 2) My legs were heavy and feeling cramp-ish. 3) It had only been 3 days since my strep-throat symptoms had begun to subside, and I was feeling extremely fatigued. It had taken a lot more energy than normal to turn a 3:30-ish first lap.

After enduring about an hour of this misery and (surprisingly) being able to run almost every step, the heat finally caught up with me and in classic Brooks fashion, I started projectile vomitting all over the place. Projectile. Everywhere. I was still crossing paths with 25 mile runners at this point and a few of them were lucky enough to get a show and see why it's just plain stupid to run 50 miles. Unlike similar past situations though, I felt remarkably good after purging and never considered quitting or dropping out. No matter how awful you feel during a race, you just have to remind yourself that 'this too shall pass' and that you'll bounce back and feel human again at some point.

Once I crested at mile 32 and had several downhill recovery miles to eat, drink and relax the legs, I was determined to beat my '10 time and, was ready for the long grind to the finish. Despite not feeling great, having familiarity with a race course helps tremendously from a psychological standpoint, until...

... I glanced over my shoulder and saw a pursuer closing the gap quickly. It was none other than Mr. O'Day (again). I felt defeated since I'd been pushing a pretty hard and consistent pace for a couple hours and assumed I was putting a gap on the competition. Rather than pushing my already gassed and cramping legs any harder, I opted for Plan B: Pull off into the bushes and take a dump while Sean runs by. If nothing else, I was going to make him lead and do the hard work now, because I was done.

We ended up running/hiking about 1-2 miles together and decided that we would tag-team the rest of the race and finish together. We both arrived and left the mile 44 aid station together and hit the final descent back into Buena Vista. What I didn't realize was just how much energy Sean had spent trying to catch me all afternoon, and I soon found myself running alone after his tank hit empty.

From here until the finish, it was just a matter of racing the clock. I say this because I hadn't seen another runner (besides Sean) since the 25 mile mark, when I saw Duncan and Corey in 3rd and 4th. Having run the entire 2nd lap alone I really had no idea of where everyone else was and therefore lacked motivation to really push it. The only update I received was at the second to last aid station, where I was informed I was about 15-20 minutes behind 3rd and 4th. Regardless, I was able to run a consistent clip to the finish, arriving 7 hours and 38 minutes after starting. This time was 8 minutes off my 2010 time, and good for 5th place despite the various issues I was dealing with. I was less than five minutes behind 3rd and 4th, and got a huge confidence boost being closely behind some big name guys! Shortly thereafter Sean came through, clinching a 6th place finish in his first ultra, with a time of 7:45. Rounding out the hugely successful day for the Colorado Springs contingent, JT ran a 50 mile PR of 8:06, and Marc finished no worse for wear in just over 10 hours.

(Rounding the last corner.)



(Marc finishing. 10:09)

(Medicine.)

 

(3rd place age groupers get bananas.)

  Nap time followed, and a few adult beverages were in order to numb the pain!

(Seemed like a fitting backdrop!)

On a side note, my running streak ended last week after 90+ days without a break and I've only run 3 out of 8 days since the race, but my body has been begging for rest for a while and with no races in my imminent future, I'm surprisingly okay with this time off!



June is still up in the air as far as racing goes, since I'm still quite a ways back on the waitlist for San Juan. This leaves me with some options, which include Bighorn, or possibly just no racing whatsover. I'm all about being smarter this summer and making Leadville the one that counts, so we'll see what happens.

For todays musical selection that JT can make fun of: 'Portugal. The Man'. I just saw these guys play an incredible show last week in C-Springs... enjoy.

Boston Predictions

Boston is so close I can taste it.
For the very first time, I'm actually stoked to do this race! Yeah, I ran a long and hard race less than two weeks ago, but besides a little residual fatigue, I feel good... really, really good...

And fast.

This is a totally new concept and experience for me. As I sit here, I'm full of confidence and mentally prepared to run low-6 minute miles for an entire marathon. Wait, I had to just re-read that... I'm having a hard time believing what I just wrote and that I honestly think I can go sub-2:50 (or faster). I say this because less than two years ago, I had already run numerous marathons in an attempt to just qualify for Boston, all of which had been failures from a time perspective. (My first 6 or 7 road marathons where all between 3:15 and 3:35.)

And now, having only run one road marathon per year the last two years, I've managed to shave 10 minutes off my PR at each, putting my current best at 2:55. It's hard to quantify what finally clicked, but it's an exhilarating feeling to have finally gotten to this point. Surely, it's just strength and consistency that did it.

Anyway, for the sake of making me accountable, I'm going to show some cards and mention some of my goals/predictions.

• D-Goal: Just Finish
• C-Goal: Sub-2:55 (new PR)
• B-Goal: Sub-2:53 (JT's PR and lots of smack-talking rights)
• A-Goal: 2:45-2:47

JT and I have an over/under bet on whether or not I'll beat Joan Benoit Samuelson. Considering she ran a 2:47.xx last October - setting the over-50 female world record - I consider this a lofty goal. JT has 'over', and there's a good chance he'll be winning a 6 pack on this one, but I love the challenge!

Sub-2:46 also has a nice ring to it since it's the women's qualifying standard for the Olympic Trials, and Karl Meltzer did think I was a woman going into Hardrock last summer, so why not? This will be another goal in the back of my mind.

Oh, and Andy, who clearly has more confidence in me than I do, thinks I'll break 2:40. He's a good friend, but he obviously needs to get off the LSD. No offense.

This should be fun. At the very least, I like my chances of breaking the 'Skinny Guy with Cystic Fibrosis and Gout' World Record...

Brew to Brew Road Trip

Time to add another great racing/roadtrip weekend to the books... and honestly, this one was better than most, if not all of my big races to date.

Friday
I was able to finish packing and finally hit the road a little after 8:00 am for the 600 mile drive to Kansas City.

(Fueled up and ready to roll)

Not having planned this trip too well, I forgot about the time change and had to make up an hour in order to pick up friend, pacer, and runner extraordinaire, Andy and his lady-friend Lizzie, at the airport. Needless to say, I was not cool with the 70 mph speed limits and might have gone a little fast at times...

Friday afternoon I got pulled over near Manhattan, KS for...
... no front plate. There was a huge sigh of relief as the cop let me go without even an official written warning. It was shaping up to be a good weekend.

I arrived at the KC airport right on time at 5:30, and increased the size of the wolfpack from 1 to 3. The rest of the evening was super chill and included an easy 4 mile run to break up the stiffness of sitting in the car, as well as some beer and pizza with our host, Shelley. Around 10:00, Matt, the last member of our core group for the race, arrived.

Saturday
Since it's a good idea to keep the time on your feet to a minimum before a big race, Saturday was the day of spectator sports. After a late breakfast and an early lunch, we started the festivities by going to watch Shelley's son, Josh, dominate at peewee soccer.

(Don't let looks fool you. We are all children)

This was followed by packet pickup. We had jokingly said there was going to be a life-size cardboard cutout of my likeness when we walked through the door... and there was! (Just kidding.) I got to meet the race director, Lou Joline, as well as a fellow CF patient who was volunteering with the race. It's really exciting to see more and more healthy individuals around my age with the disease.

Packets in tow, it was time to head to the Royals game (2 hours late) to see if we could still get tickets. The only advantage of showing up super late was the great parking options.

(Our makeshift parking permit that got us into the VIP lot)

We figured it would probably be in the 5th or 6th inning, which made $15 bucks a totally fair price to pay. After buying our tickets and getting inside, we discovered it was actually the 9th inning. Within 2-3 minutes the game was over... apparently the game started an hour earlier than we'd thought.

Thankfully, as we were feeling Royally ripped off (corny, I know) and leaving the stadium we caught wind of a 2nd game, and although minor-league, it was a pick your own seat format so we made our way behind home plate, grabbed some brews, and enjoyed the beautiful day.

After a great homemade pasta dinner, I hit the road for a couple final pre-race miles while the rest of the crew pre-drove the course. I called it a night around 10:00.

Sunday - Race Day
Race morning arrived quickly and my crew and I headed over to the race start at Boulevard Brewery around 5:30 to meet up with Natalee and company.

In possibly the most unorthodox preparation of all time for a runners first ultramarathon, she came into the race prepared with a stubborn disposition, and a longest training run of 8.3 miles under her belt. Fast forward to later that afternoon, and she had succesfully completed 44 long, hot, windy miles through Satan's blast furnace! I'm proud to officially welcome her to the club! With that kind of determination (and maybe some stupidity), it's only a matter of time before she's lined up for a 100 miler... and likely with a longest training run of less than 20 miles.

Anyway, back to the race. The first 5-6 miles are through an industrial district in downtown KC with a very 'rapish' feel to them. Due to the number of turns with underpasses to run under, over, and along, as well as the early morning darkness, Andy offered to pace me through these miles. He and I took the lead right out of the gate and followed a motorcycle escort for the first mile or so.

(Taking the early lead)

It was downright scary how easy a sub-7 minute pace was feeling, and I made it a point to remind myself that 44 miles is a long way and that I wasn't going to feel so hot all day. Regardless, the pace kept picking up through these miles, until I was sustaining miles in the 6:35 range. Through this first stretch, the only thing that had me a little concerned was the fact that it was already in the mid-60's, and the sun wasn't even up yet. It was gonna be a hot one!

For close to 30 miles the race is on paved roads and rural highways, which doesn't afford a lot of room to elaborate on the scenery. Instead, I'll talk about the thoughts and observations that were bouncing around in my head.

1. Excitement. It felt incredible leading the race and gave me a huge surge of adrenalin for the first few hours.



(Nobody as far as the eye can see)



(About a 3 mile lead at this point)

2. I have a newfound hatred for wind. I don't even want to get started on it... so much pent-up anger.
3. Rednecks in trucks trying to veer onto the shoulder to take out runners are plentiful in KS.
4. Fast splits. After about 20 miles, I realized I was going to be close to my marathon PR, despite a relatively moderate exhertion level. I ended up running just under 2:57 at 26.2, despite constant headwinds or hills from miles 20-26. My 50k time was approximately 3:33.
5. This is possibly the worst song to have stuck in your head for hours:

Around the 50k mark there was a river crossing where we got to take a quick breather and a boat ride.

(We're on a boat. Lonely Island would be proud)

Then it was more of the same, except on crushed rock this time, which is like a Vitamix blender for the bottoms of your feet.

(Miles and miles of this crushed rock...)

This is also where the heat started to take a serious toll on me both physically and mentally. Combined with a badly cramping left leg, and sustained 40 mph headwinds, my wheels began to fall off. The course was all on rock or gravel from here to the finish, and also began to get hilly. Walking became the only option on some of the uphills, and around mile 35, my body revolted.

(The calm before the storm)

(Pretty self explanatory)

Until this point I was still hovering around Andy's course record pace (5:11), but it was now time to kiss that goodbye. After a few minutes getting my bearings and trying to get some determination back, Andy and I were soon running again. I had to sit down as we arrived at the last aid station (mile 39-ish) and dump water on my head while trying to figure out why I was feeling so disoriented. I couldn't tell if it was dehydration, or hyponatremia, I just knew my body was hating me.

Hitting the last levy stretch of the run, it was virtually impossible to even WALK at a decent pace due to the constantly increasing wind speeds. About 3 miles from the finish, I started running again.

(The home stretch. 1.5 to go)

With a mile to go Andy directed my attention to a bridge in the distance that signified the end of my suffering for the day. Apparently I was overdue for one more cruel and sadistic joke, and we discovered that the finish line location had been moved about a half mile away from where the race ended in '09, the year Andy won. I had nothing left in the tank mentally or physically, and had to walk for about a minute before finally running it in.

Final time: 5:35.31. 1st overall.
Splits:
20 miles - 2:13
26.2 miles - 2:57
50k - 3:33 (New PR)

Had I been extremely motivated, I could have run 6 more miles JUST for the sake of claiming a huge 50 mile PR, but I'd had my share of being miserable for one day.

http://kctrack.org/uncategorized/44-miles-in-80-degree-heat-piece-of-cake/

Even when taking the Brew to Brew handicap structure into account, this time was good enough for the overall win and Kansas state ultrarunning championship title! Who knew there was such a thing?

(Kansas state champ... from Colorado)

To round out the whole experience, I was invited up to speak on behalf of the CF Foundation at the post race dinner. It was so surreal to have actually won a race to benefit CF, while having the disease myself. This excitement - and the few beers I'd had before going up there -  made it very easy to speak in front of a packed house.

After saying bye to Andy and Lizzie and getting a cat-nap in, the evening was spent with Natalee and Kristen, as well as fellow Colorado racers Dave, Geoff, and Andy. BBQ, beer, and video putt-putt golf kept us entertained, but we were all pretty gassed so we opted to save our big night on the town for Monday.

Monday

Monday was a pretty chill recovery day with the Indianapolis crew that consisted of frequent eating, limping around the Plaza shopping district and spending money, lots of whining from Natalee, meeting and interviewing with the local Mizuno rep, and fellow ultrarunner, Sophia Wharton (who provided me with the awesome shoe choices for the race), a short run, relaxing, more whining, watching the NCAA Basketball championship downtown, and then a little bar hopping. We were even able to teach the art of 'shaky-face' photography to some new people!



(Trained professionals, kids)



(Running long distances affects all differently)



(The seemingly gracious loser of the darts championship....)



(... stabbing me in the neck shortly thereafter)



So just in case you suspected I had a decent maturity level, I hope the above photos and story prove otherwise.

Tuesday

The drive home always seems longer than the initial trip. Amidst fighting off sleepiness, boredom, and extremely stiff legs from driving all day, I had the excitement of getting pulled over by yet another Kansas State Trooper. This time I was speeding, and swerving while playing on my phone. Surely I was overdue for my first Kansas ticket... nope. A written warning and I was on my way. Not trying to press my luck, I finally gave in and did the speed limit the rest of the way home.

1200+ total miles of driving was seriously improved with the addition of great new tunes. I stocked up last week and had 7 new albums to keep me company. Despite 3-4 which got major play-time, I think The Strokes newest takes top honors for being album of the trip. Here's the track that got me through:

Many thanks to my friends both old and new for being there last weekend! It was definitely the people that made this trip so awesome!

Leadville Training Weekend

My buddy Brandon and I have talked about meeting up for a winter training/play weekend in Leadville for about a month now, and finally last weekend all the pieces came together and we were able to get some altitude training in, and also watch all the random festivities at their yearly winter carnival. This included:

• Ski-Joring - aka: Getting pulled behind a pissed off horse in full gallop and launched off large man-made obstacles in front of hundreds of jeering spectators. Everyone is somehow disappointed every time a skier has a successful run because watching idiots crash and burn is way more entertaining!
• Sled-Dog Racing
• Nighttime Mountain Bike Racing - Temps in the teens at the start. Nothing athletic in Leadville appears sane!

Leadville Crystal Carnival from Brandon Fuller on Vimeo.

While on the subject of Leadville, Brandon has also just launched a new site dedicated to all things LT100 related. Check it out at: http://runleadville.com/

Finally, after scrounging around there for a while, I also found this cool video of the 2010 race start, featuring yours truly at front and center. Duncan is squatting down to the left of me, and Tony sneaks in next to me just seconds before we take off.