Things are looking up!

I've got to admit it's getting better,

A little better all the time....

-The Beatles

I'm pleased to report that things are healing up nicely after the tough race of a couple weeks ago. The scratches and scrapes have almost disappeared, the aches and pains suffered at the hands of the rocks at Reveille Peak Ranch are healing up, and I've been able to resume challenging workouts again. This week saw most of my efforts focused on the treadmill as I have been working on climbing - incline workouts at 12% and higher, mainly hiking, but with a little running thrown in. I've been able to top 3,000' of climbing with each workout which has helped me from a mental standpoint in that I feel a little more prepared for the long climbs I'll face in Virginia. 

While my logistical preparations for the race are still in the early stages - I still have not decided on a nutrition plan, I am still collecting information about the aid stations, and as of now I do not have a pacer - I am at least starting to feel like I will at least approach the starting line rested and healthy. I'll pick up the mileage a bit this week and next, aiming for the 60 mile range before easing off on race week. There's not much I can do now except maintain my current level of fitness. There's no reason to risk getting injured or over trained while trying to cram in too many miles in advance of race day.

I made a comment to close my race recap at Reveille Peak Ranch that may have given the impression that I may not be completely confident in my abilities to rise to the occasion and meet this upcoming challenge. While I thought about editing it, I let it stand; the fact is, I don't exactly know how I am going to get there and back again. But I am working on it. Physically, I can do it. Mentally, I can do it. What it will come down to is a matter of working through the plan and showing up ready to let my body do what it knows how to do. To relax, remain in the moment, and grind it out. 

I've been reading over a few race reports and trail recon posts that go into some detail about the technicality of the course and the challenges of the frequent climbs and descents. I'll begin my preparations accordingly. I borrowed a couple of trail pics to add below. I look forward to taking some of my own pictures to tell the story of this amazing event. 

I'm excited about getting this process started! Or as Sherlock Holmes would say, "The game is afoot!!"

Wild Oak Trail. (valhallase.com)

Reddish Knob. (iseetrails.wordpress.com)

A breathtaking view of the Virginia mountains. (http://changultraadventures.blogspot.com/2014/10/grindstone-100-race-report-2014.html)

Reveille Peak Ranch 60k Race Report

I've spent the better part of a week trying to figure out what went wrong at Reveille Peak Ranch last weekend. It was a 60k in the Captain Karl's series of night time races that was meant to be a training run for me - an opportunity to work on my nutrition and hydration, get some quality miles in at night, and take me a step closer to the next big race on the schedule in a few weeks. While I wish I could say I accomplished my goals - ANY of my goals - it turned out to be a major disappointment in just about every way possible. 

While the track itself was somewhat technical (large rocks littered the course, and then there's the granite dome that I will get to shortly), it was not particularly difficult. Many rolling hills along the way would provide a few thousand feet of cumulative elevation gain but nothing overly rigorous. I thought it was well-marked, straightforward, and with the aid stations only a few short miles apart, should have been relatively easy to navigate. We would run 3 loops at around 12.5 miles per loop so there would be ample opportunity to restock at the main lodge area as well. I guess that's why the saying goes "that's why they play the game" because what seemed easy enough for me on paper certainly did not play out that way.

All smiles at the start with Brian and Josh

The course began along a dirt service road which led for a few miles to what is one of the more interesting geological formations you'll see in this part of the world - a large exposed mound of pure granite that almost resembles a large lava flow, extending in many different directions like fingers along the trail. It's like a giant granite boulder was dropped in the middle of west Texas cactus and mesquite trees. We would run around and over the dome for a few miles then proceed back on to single track for the rest of each loop, eventually returning us to the lodge.

My troubles began almost immediately as it seemed that despite my diligence to paying attention to the trail, I was kicking and tripping over rocks at an irritatingly high rate. I took a couple of early falls as well - nothing painful, with landings on sand and dirt, allowing me to dust myself off and continue quickly - but it was certainly enough to unnerve me. I slowed my pace and began to feel frustrated with my poor footwork. Each rock I kicked would set off a cavalcade of curses as I bounced from one side of the trail to the other, looking for smoother sailing that would allow me to pick up the pace.

As I reached the granite dome the landscape changed dramatically. Highway reflectors would be used to guide us up and over this slab of rock that was devoid of plant life. I was able to run relatively comfortably on the dome, as the surface had been worn down by years of weather and human traffic to a relatively smooth exterior that was, dare I say, almost like a road. Perhaps I became a little too comfortable running over the dome because not long after the trail began to head downhill, with me moving at a decent clip in an effort to make up a little time lost earlier on, my right foot caught a rock. And thus, my first "major" fall of the day. There was nothing to grab onto to help slow me down as I fell. As I hit the ground I plowed right in to a small cluster of rocks on the trail. I laid in the dirt for a moment to collect myself as a few other runners stopped to check on me. I wish I could say that the only thing I had wounded was my pride, but sadly this was not the case. I was skinned up on both knees and on my right arm. Blood and dirt caked my legs as I shakily stood back up. My right knee had hit a rock straight on and was deeply bruised. Everything from my waist to my ankles was either bleeding, cut, or bruised, and everything above the waist wasn't much better. And to make matters worse, I was only around 8 miles in. 

So that was how things began, and while I wish I could say they could only get better, they really didn't. I took several more hard falls, dealt with a sour stomach all night, and basically ended up hiking much more of the course than I intended. A good man at one of the aid stations (the great Texas Yeti himself) graciously helped clean the dirt and rocks out of my wounds, while others helped with words of encouragement and support. I appreciated the sentiment but my night was still a struggle. 

As I wound my way through the second loop of this treacherous track the one and only thought that kept me moving was my intention to finish this loop, drop out of the race, get myself cleaned up, and find some hot food. There was no thought to completing the 60k. None at all. Upon completing loop 2, as I sat in my chair, I can't say exactly what compelled to me to get up again and head back out for another 12.5 mile slog over that crazy terrain. I knew for a fact it was going to be a long, slow hike. Perhaps I was just stubborn, not wanting to go 0-for-3 at Captain Karl. I didn't think my night could get any worse, and I guess my frustration fueled the fire that kept me going. 

In the end I limped across the finish line in just under 10 hours. All in all, RPR sent me home beaten and broken. (As I write this several days later I am still recovering from my injuries from that race and haven't run a step since.)

As I look back on the day I think there may have been a couple of mistakes that "could" have altered the outcome of my race. (Maybe, maybe not.) First of all, this was my first real run in my new pair of Altra Lone Peak 2.0 shoes. I am a huge fan of the Altra brand, but it seemed that there was something about the wider toe box on these particular shoes almost made me feel like I had clown feet all night. Whether I was walking or running, I was kicking roots and tripping over rocks seemingly constantly. I won't say that I haven't ever had that much trouble getting along down a trail but it has been a long time since it was that bad. It hasn't caused me to completely abandon these shoes but I'll certainly be casting wary glances in their direction for a while. 

The second problem I may have suffered was in my nutrition. (This seems to be a "thing" for me.) I have had success recently using Tailwind products, which provide around 200 calories in simple carbohydrate when mixed with ~20 oz of water. It tastes great, doesn't upset my stomach, and for a shorter race like this should be all I need. The trouble is that when I would go through aid stations, I would allow volunteers to refill my water bottles - thereby diluting my tailwind ratios. After a while I lost track of what I had in my bottles, and since my pace was so much slower than I anticipated, I wasn't getting the calories that I thought I was. Looking back it seems like a simple enough thing to fix but at the time my mind was on other problems. This should have been a simple fix but once again I spent the night trying to play calorie catch-up on an already sour stomach.

I have been forced into a week long break as I continue to recover from various issues brought on by last week's race. My previously shaky confidence has been further diminished by this showing. I really do not know what my last few weeks of training will hold, or whether I will even be able to get the kind of quality workouts in between now and Grindstone that could restore some of that confidence. All that there is now is a trail in Virginia, in which I will need to somehow get from point A, to point B, then back to point A.

Right now, I have absolutely no idea how I am going to do that.

Climbing the Mountain

Digging deep. (www.mattmahoney.net)

A while back I offered a few thoughts on motivation - specifically, what is it that drives me and other like-minded idiots who seem to enjoy spending their free time running for hours and days upon end over mountains and through seemingly endless woods? Are we driven by recognition from others for our efforts? The thrill of it all? The swag? Or simply the personal satisfaction of pushing our own boundaries and accomplishing things that we once thought to be impossible?

I feel that most of my motivation is still extrinsic. As much as I hate to admit it, I am definitely an ego-driven individual. I consider internalizing my motivations to be an important step in my desire to let go of my own ego but it is certainly a journey that I am still on and seemingly far from completing. I recently came across a passage in the book "Zen and the Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance" by Robert Pirsig that struck me in which the narrator describes an experience involving a pilgrimage to a holy mountain in India. The subject of the story was in the company of devout pilgrims who were there to climb this mountain out of religious devotion, which he contrasted with his subject's own egocentric motivations:

"He never reached the mountain. After the third day he gave up, exhausted, and the pilgrimage went on without him. He said he had the physical strength but that physical strength wasn't enough. He had the intellectual motivation but that wasn't enough either. He didn't think he had been arrogant but thought that he was undertaking the pilgrimage to broaden his experience, to gain understanding for himself. He was trying to use the mountain for his own purposes and the pilgrimage too. He regarded himself as the fixed entity, not the pilgrimage or the mountain, and thus wasn't ready for it. He speculated that the other pilgrims, the ones who reached the mountain, probably sensed the holiness of the mountain so intensely that each footstep was an act of devotion,an act of submission to this holiness. The holiness of the mountain infused into their own spirits enabled them to endure far more than anything he, with his greater physical strength, could take.

To the untrained eye, ego-climbing and selfless climbing may appear identical. Both kinds of climbers place one foot in front of the other. Both breathe in and out at the same rate. Both stop when tired. Both go forward when rested. But what a difference! The ego-climber is like an instrument that is out of adjustment. He puts his foot down an instant too soon or too late. He's likely to miss a beautiful passage of sunlight through the trees. He goes on when the sloppiness of his step shows he is tired. He rests at odd times. He looks up the trail to see what's ahead even though he knows what's ahead because he just looked a second before. He goes too fast or too slow for the conditions and when he talks his talk is forever about somewhere else, something else. He's here but he's not here. He rejects the here, is unhappy with it, wants to be further up the trail but when he gets there he will be just as unhappy because then it will be 'here'. What he's looking for, what he wants, is all around him, but he doesn't want that because it is all around him. Every step is an effort, both physically and spiritually, because he imagines his goal to be external and distant."

There is so much in this passage that I can identify with, both on the trail and, in a larger sense, my daily life. I have a feeling I am going to spend a good bit of time trying to unpack this passage for myself. I can appreciate its reinforcement of the idea of truly being "in the moment." As it relates specifically to my running experiences, I have noticed a marked difference between the days when I am running for glory and gusto versus the days when I am content to embrace the experience itself without expectation, accepting whatever lessons the day might bring. The former tends to be both physically and mentally exhausting, while the latter is actually invigorating and can even be restorative. 

Like I said, I could go on about the implications for this reflection in my "day-to-day" but I think I'll leave that for another post. I have trail races over the next 2 weekends that I am using as training runs for October's main event. Perhaps I can use these runs as preparation for the mind as well as for the body - as opportunities to work on releasing my ego, becoming more like those selfless climbers described above. 

I think I'll close with a thought from Thich Nhat Hanh, one of my favorite writers whom I have referenced many times before in my blog:

Cheers, and happy trails!

Playing in the Wasatch Range

Lovely stock photo...(Source)

I had the supremely good fortune to spend a few days last week with a good friend on the Wasatch Front Trail near Salt Lake City, Utah. Running and hiking the trails in the high country is good for my soul, even though I struggled a bit with the steep climbs and high altitude. Salt Lake City is quite a beautiful city tucked into the foothills of the Wasatch mountain range and appears to have a very active outdoorsy-type of population (at least from what I was able to see). It seems like a pleasant enough place to live, especially for the outdoor enthusiast. 

The week provided me with some decent training time of my own as I enter the final few weeks before Grindstone. I must say that while my training has been spot-on, my confidence is pretty shoddy right now. Getting up many of the climbs proved much more difficult than I would have hoped; however I was able to get over a couple climbs in excess of 1000'/mile and collected over 12,000' of climbing for the week. Not too bad. But humbling nonetheless. It appears that flatlanders like me are generally not predisposed to handling the rugged features and relentless climbing found on mountain ranges!! It is what it is though - onward and upward.

Another blogger posted a race plan for this weekend's Leadville 100 that was brilliant in it's simplicity. I believe I will adopt the same for my race in October.

1. When I can, I will run.

2. When I can't run, I will walk.

3. I will eat as much as my glass stomach will allow me to.

4. I will hit Winfield [Reddish Knob Turn Around] around the time I get there.

5. My goal finish time is whenever I cross the finish line.

(Source Here)

Here are some trail pics from a beautiful part of the world:

  

8 Weeks to Grindstone

Tonight I clicked over to my training schedule for the week and my attention was immediately drawn to the header: "8 weeks to Grindstone."

To quote from the event's website: "Grit, endurance, temporary loss of sanity. You might need all of these if you want to attempt Grindstone. If you want to finish, well, just keep in mind this is, without a doubt, the hardest 100 miler east of the 100th meridian. Now that you’re hooked, Grindstone is going to be an incredible adventure for each and every entrant. From the beautiful start/finish location at Camp Shenandoah to the monster climbs and the solitude of single track ridge running, you just can’t beat Grindstone… but you can try!"

Gulp. I am happy to say that my training has been progressing quite well - I feel good, my weekly mileage has gradually increased over the past couple months from 40, to 50, 60, and now 70 mpw. I'll step it back this week to rest, then push on toward 80 and maybe even get to 90 before the tapering starts. And yet the voice in the back of my head is asking, "Is it enough?"

The challenge in preparing for this race is that, well, there really is no way for me to adequately prepare for this race. I can work on long slow climbs using a treadmill, but that won't simulate the extreme technicality of the course. I can get on some local fire roads that are steep and rocky, but they are very short and don't offer sustained climbs that will remotely resemble what I'll face on race day. 

All I can do in this case is prepare in the best way that I am able and bring whatever game I have to the race. It'll be an exercise in grit and determination, with a pinch or 2 of positive thinking thrown in for good measure. I'll have to remember the mantras: "Trust your training." "Have a plan and work your plan." "One step at a time." "Run your own race." 

They say the race itself is simply the end of a very long road that began with the start of this training cycle a few months ago. All the miles on the roads and trails, all the hours in the weight room, they all will bring me to that final 100 miles. It's just up to me to finish it. Would that I have the strength and perseverance to do so. 

Running In Circles - Fossil Valley 6 Hour Race Report

Cedar Ridge Preserve (or CRP, as it is known locally) is one of the many Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex's urban recreation parks that has found a way into the hearts of area hikers, mountain bikers, and trail enthusiasts. Located in a hilly suburb just south of downtown Dallas, CRP played host to a 3, 6, and 9 hour timed event on a trail loop last weekend that ran from late Saturday night and into the early Sunday morning hours. Having been a little short on trail time in my current training cycle - plus needing to purge myself of the bitter aftertaste of another painful DNF at Pedernales Falls 60k a few weeks ago - I threw my name in the hat for the 6 hour event a few days before the race with the intention of getting a decent training run in. 

The Course

The course itself consisted of a 2.7 mile loop that surprised me in its moderate difficulty and technicality. Most timed events I was familiar with were on relatively flat, even, wide surfaces that offered little elevation change outside of perhaps stepping over a curb or the occasional root. They were the antithesis of technical. Not so here. The first half mile of the loop was flat and easy, but not long after, the trail would narrow and begin a series of rocky descents that required my complete attention. There was no loose debris, but the rocks and roots that protruded from the ground could easily catch the wary runner and lead to a painful crash if care was not taken. After 2 or 3 of these short descents, we crossed a small wooden bridge that would signal the start of the first of 2 moderate climbs in each loop. The first hill wasn't particularly long, but it was steep, and seemed to get steeper as the night wore on. After cresting this hill, the course would roll along through the woods and around a pond along a dusty trail that was not particularly technical or difficult until we reached a second climb - a set of switchbacks and stairs that would lead us out of this small valley. This was a more difficult climb than the first, and again, though not particularly long, it would seem to increase in difficulty with each passing loop. 

Step it up!

After this last climb, the course would flatten out and lead to a wide fire road that brought us back to the start/finish area and the course's only aid station. In the end, each loop offered around 320' in elevation gain - which may not seem like much, but it added up.

My Race (Short Version)

Given that it's July in North Texas, heat and humidity would be factors that would be in play all night. It wasn't exactly stifling but I was completely drenched by the end of my first loop. I felt surprisingly good given the 10 pm starting time (my typical bedtime!) and cruised  though the aid station area on my first couple loops without stopping. But as the night progressed, I grew to appreciate the hospitality of this little outpost and its tireless volunteers. Given the warm conditions, I was careful to make sure I was ingesting enough salt and electrolytes to carry me through the night. I was moving well, and despite the occasional bottleneck in the trail, felt like I was making good time on each loop. I was plugged in to my music (more on that later) and was very relaxed. 

At the starting line!

Leaving the aid station, heading on to the trail...

I had several friends running this event as well but we were separated not long after the start of the race. My family hung out at the start/finish area for the first half of my race which was a definite mental boost for me. After they left, I had many other friends who picked me up and kept me going through the night.

My goal was to finish 10 loops/27 miles.  But as the race went on, it became apparent that I would finish my 10 loops well ahead of the 6 hour cutoff. It was difficult to tell where I stood in the overall standings but I had a feeling I was in a pretty good place and might consider adding a loop just to improve my position a little. Rolling into the start/finish area after 10 loops in around 5 hours ans 22 minutes (it was 3:22 am)  and still feeling good, I decided I would give it one more loop and see how that went. I hurried through the aid station, refilling my water bottle and grabbing a snack. I ran quickly but comfortably, considering that I might actually have 2 loops left in me if I could get back before the cutoff at 4 am. I knocked out #11 in under 30 minutes and left myself room to head out again and try to improve my position in the race.

As it turned out, another loop didn't help me gain any ground on the winner or lose any ground to the field. I did enjoy it though, and after it was all sorted out, I finished the 6 hour event with 12 loops (32.28 miles) in around 6 hours and 29 minutes and in 2nd place overall. I was very pleased with the end result considering I never pushed too hard; in fact, keeping a relaxed mind and body may have actually helped me perform better in the warm, humid environment.

Afterwards I enjoyed the company of some excellent people as we watched the sun rise, feasted on some hot breakfast foods, and consumed a few cold beverages.           

A Few Takeaways

#1. As I just mentioned, I think remaining relaxed throughout the race definitely helped me perform better. I was never certain where I stood in the field as I was passing and being passed by people in the various events taking place on the trail for most of the night. I had also lost touch with my friends whom I had assumed would be near the front, so I had no idea what was going on. I was literally just running my own race. If I can keep this in mind in the future I might not only find more enjoyment from the event, I may even find myself a little higher in the standings. ("Run your own race." I should put that on a t-shirt or something.)

#2. I like to listen to music when I run. I know that's a hot topic amongst runners, particularly trail runners, who generally prefer to run without being plugged in. But it works for me. I find that in measured doses it relaxes my mind and body and pushes me to perform. (Or at least I believe it does. It may be a placebo. But either way.) I jammed during this trail run and I feel like it helped me run harder. So if I am running alone, I'll probably be rocking out. 

#3. I am a very weak climber. Very weak. This is something I need to work on. I struggle mightily on anything remotely vertical. This will be a problem in October. On anything flat or downhill, I can kill it. But climbs? Not so much.

#4. Lastly, I rarely (if ever) drink sodas anymore, but coca-cola is a godsend in the middle of the night. Between the simple sugar and the caffeine it was the nectar of the gods. I would love to sit here and say I am a purist, and that I made it all night on Tailwind and fruit - but the fact is that when I had a stomach issue or was feeling sleepy, Coke helped. It was great. 


So, on to the next one! I have a busy month of training set up for August, including several days of running and hiking in the Wasatch mountains. (FUN!) I may throw in another race between now and Grindstone but the priority now will be on working to improve my climbing ability and alternating increasing mileage in the Texas summer heat with recovery.

Well, there's that....

Well, I have good news and bad news on the great vegetarian experiment of 2015. The good news is that I made it 21 days! The bad news is I only made it 21 days. Unfortunately after 3 weeks I found myself completely uninspired by my dietary options, eating bland foods with relatively low caloric density. I was hungry all the time - not surprising, considering I was trying to fuel my aggressive training schedule with quinoa and bean sprouts (ok that's slight hyperbole, but it certainly seemed that way). I might be able to make this work with some full-time help from a dietitian or nutrition expert - or a lot more time on my part to do the research and planning myself.

The thing is, I am not now and have not been for a couple of years what one might consider a full-on "carnivore". Meat has been, for me, more of a side dish or garnish than a main course. I still consider myself plant-based in my dietary choices. Yet meat products do add essential amino acids and proteins that are difficult to get elsewhere (there is vigorous debate on whether these nutrients can be obtained from plants, but all I can say is that I have noticed a difference in how I feel during my strength workouts - that's not scientific, it's just how I feel). My diet is pretty simple and straightforward anyway. I'm going on 3 years without significant injury, I feel lean and strong, I'm running very well...should I mess with a formula that clearly works for me?

There's also the question of the ethics of eating animals. Rather than go on and on about that here, I would just say that while I am acutely aware of the problems inherent in the industrial farming practices and the mistreatment of animals for our food supply, I do believe there is another way that could be taken into consideration. 

In that regard, I do work hard to make sure my animal protein options come from responsibly farmed sources whenever possible. In many cases I pay a premium for this, but I believe it's worth it. I will still incorporate meatless days into my weekly routine in order to keep some variety in meal plans. That won't change. Nearly all of the meat I consume will be either chicken or fish (like it was before). My focus will still be on eating lean and clean.  

So like I said, there's that. I've gone down this road before and it may just not be for me. And that's OK. Who knows, I may have a go at it again sometime. I'll continue to look for ways to get better, eat better, and recover better. But for now I'm taking down my NMA badge. Although I still like to consider myself running on plants, for the mean time that will also include occasionally enjoying "not-plants" as well.