Looking Back, Looking Ahead...

As the curtain closes on 2015, I cannot help but be amazed and abundantly grateful at the blessings that have come my way over the past 364 days. Of course my running and racing took me to some new and exciting places, introduced me to some amazing people, and helped me weather my early 40's with (I hope) some measure of grace and good health. But more importantly, I enjoyed the blessings of a family that brought joy into my life in ways that cannot be easily measured or put into words. I was surrounded by friends who both kept me grounded and inspired me to become a better person. So while the minutes, days and weeks of 2015 seemed to go by in a flash, the imprint that this past year has left in my heart will not soon evaporate.

Boston Marathon 2015

Cactus Rose 100 2015

RPR 60k 2015

More importantly than the experiences I had in 2015, I think I may have inched closer to a more authentic understanding of "who I am". That may sound a little odd at first reading, but as some of my earlier posts have alluded to, I've become convinced that life is more about "becoming" than simply "doing". We evolve, learn from our mistakes, and seek to grow in peace and understanding. We forgive, we change.....life is in a constant state of evolution which is hopefully bringing us closer to a fuller expression of our authentic selves. I have tried to forgive myself, accept my many shortcomings, and in turn allow myself to love and be loved as the flawed man that I am. I look forward to a new year of continuing this slow and sometimes difficult inward journey. 

Getting back to the subject of "doing", I believe that the business and "busy-ness" of our daily lives can make us act like drones - robots who mindlessly move from one task to the next seemingly on autopilot. The days fly by because we fill them with responsibilities, errands, and "to-do" lists that keep us busy. Make no mistake, I do a lot of things mindlessly! But I feel that at I am least beginning to develop a conscious recognition of when I am in such a place. From there, I can seek to become more invested and engaged in how I spend my time rather than simply going through the motions. 

I am reminded of a story by one of my favorite authors, Thich Nhat Hanh:

Thirty years ago, when I was still a novice at Tu Hieu Pagoda, washing the dishes was hardly a pleasant task. During the Season of Retreat when all the monks returned to the monastery, two novices had to do all the cooking and wash the dishes for sometimes well over one hundred monks.

There was no soap. We had only ashes, rice husks, and coconut husks, and that was all. Cleaning such a high stack of bowls was a chore, especially during the winter when the water was freezing cold. Then you had to heat up a big pot of water before you could do any scrubbing….

While washing the dishes one should only be washing the dishes, which means that while washing the dishes one should be completely aware of the fact that one is washing the dishes.

 At first glance, that might seem a little silly: why put so much stress on a simple thing? But that’s precisely the point. The fact that I am standing there and washing these bowls is a wondrous reality. I’m being completely myself, following my breath, conscious of my presence and conscious of my thoughts and actions. There’s no way I can be tossed around mindlessly like a bottle slapped here and there on the waves.

If while washing the dishes, we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as if they were a nuisance, then we are not “washing the dishes to wash the dishes.” What’s more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes.

In fact we are completely incapable of realizing the miracle of life while standing at the sink. If we can’t wash the dishes, the chances are we won’t be able to drink our tea either. While drinking the cup of tea, we will only be thinking of other things, barely aware of the cup in our hands. Thus we are sucked away into the future – and we are incapable of actually living one minute of life.

As 2016 dawns and a clean slate is presented before me, this is my true "resolution" - to try to slow the seemingly breakneck pace of life, taking a more pronounced appreciation of each and every moment. I want to savor the experiences that bring color and joy to my life. Can I find joy in my morning cup of coffee? Enjoy the serenity of a long run? See the twinkle of joy in my wife's eyes? Savor the sound of my children's laughter? Gaze in awe at a sky full of predawn stars? Taste the layers of flavor in a glass of wine? And yes, even appreciate washing the dishes? 

So the question that I pose to myself this year is not what do I want to do in 2016, but who do I want to become? There are certainly new things I'd like to do - but can I approach them from a new point of view, one which sees beyond just what is on the surface? The world we live in does not appreciate depth of experience. It encourages - even celebrates - moving quickly from one activity to the next. It is a world that divides our attention and rewards those who can "multitask" : not only moving from objective A to B to C, but actually performing all tasks simultaneously. It takes little or no joy in the journey, only in getting to the destination as quickly as possible. I've certainly fallen into this rut myself many times. But I can at least recognize my desire to change and take advantage of my ability to do so. 

I look forward to more closely exploring these concepts in posts over the next year. It will be fun to relate them back to my running as well. Because make no mistake, there will be running (and posts about it) in 2016! So thanks to 2015 for a great year. Thanks to the wonderful people who made it so. I have much for which to be grateful. 

2016 has some big shoes to fill. Time to get to it!

     

Sadly the lottery gods did not smile upon me this year (again) and there will be no Western States 100 in my near future. That doesn't mean it's still not a part of my long-term plans, but in the meantime I have decided that I need to change things up a bit. To that end, I am taking a break from the trails for just for a little while.

From a mental standpoint I'm feeling a little burned out. I'm not really excited about charging full steam ahead into 2016 with 2 big ultras on the docket in the first 2 months of the year (Bandera 100k and Rocky Raccoon 100). I know I could finish them, but my hope is that by stepping back a bit I could allow my body the chance to rest and rebuild and set myself up for better races later in the year.

So it's back to the roads for a bit for me. I am looking forward to a period of some easy running and strength training for a few weeks before starting a marathon program in the spring in preparation for Boston. I'll probably throw in some shorter, faster races like 10k's and a half marathon or two along the way. The trails will still be there - in fact  I intend to fulfill my 2016 Western States qualifier at either the Wasatch Front 100 in Utah or Grindstone 100 in Virginia (part 2). But for now, a different path is before me. 

2015 Wild Hare 50 Race Report

Preparing for an ultra can be a funny thing. Much like nutrition, it's different for everyone. My tendency is to over plan: review race reports, study elevation charts and course maps, meticulously pack and repack my gear...I generally obsess over races for weeks in advance and tend to psyche myself out trying to cover each and every eventuality that could present itself on race day. After all, it's best to be prepared, right? (Somewhere there is a former Boy Scout nodding in agreement...) I'm not sure whether my propensity toward over planning has helped me perform better on race day, but if nothing else it has given me the peace of mind that I've got all my bases covered heading into an event. At least, that's what I tell myself.

Enter the 2015 Wild Hare 50 - a race that wasn't on my radar until a few days before the event and one I really knew nothing about. Not only could I not have found the tiny town of Warda, Texas on a map with 100 guesses (hint: find Waco, drop down about 100 miles S/SE), but I was still recovering after a grueling Cactus Rose 100 finish a few weeks before. I had planned to rest for the balance of November then in December start working up to on a return trip to the Bandera 100k early next year. But after having realized that I still had a qualifying race I could add to my 2015 Texas Trail Racing series portfolio, I decided "what the hell" - and thus, with no prior planning, preparation, or thought to what I might be getting myself into, I was off to try and find Warda and the Wild Hare 50.

Photo Credit: Henry Hobbs

The Course

Wild Hare is comprised of several races of various distances (10k, 25k, 50k, and 50 mile) that are run over mountain biking trails through Bluff Creek Ranch, a functioning horse ranch in sleepy Warda. The course itself is pretty straightforward: an ~8 mile loop with an aid station right at 4 miles (there is also a support station the start/finish area). There are a couple of course-correcting segments added early in the races to make sure each distance ends up where it needs to be but otherwise it's the same 8 mile loop for everyone. 

I found each 4-mile segment to have it's own unique characteristics. The first was a run through a forest entirely along single track mountain bike trails. It would repeatedly corkscrew between the trees, cutting back and forth many times over small hills with a few rocks and roots strewn along the path. It was not particularly technical. There was some light mud and a few puddles we had to navigate (including one that seemed more like a small pond) but otherwise pretty easy footing.

The nasty puddle I ran through 7 times. Yuck. (Photo credit: Libby Hallas-Jones)

After passing through the midpoint aid station, the course would run for a mile or so across some fields and pastures, leading to a rolling stretch of trail in another stand of trees. A steep but short downhill descent would mark the beginning of this roller-coaster type segment with a number of short ups and downs that would culminate in a stand of tall pine trees, short footbridges and finally return us to the start/finish area. The final 3/4-mile or so of each loop involved running right through the middle of the campground, which was filled with friends, family, and crew for the runners, through a small quaint barn/stable, across the timing mat and into an aid station area.  

Just a couple thoughts about the course and the setup: This is not a technical course and there is very little elevation to worry about. Mud could be a problem if the weather is poor, but fortunately that wasn't an issue this year. Otherwise the layout of the course could lend itself to fast times. The camping setup at Bluff Creek Ranch was as good as I have seen for any race I have attended. Like I said, the race runs right through the campgrounds, which are spacious and situated near a small pond surrounded by beautiful pine trees. If I return to run this race again there is no doubt I would camp. The 2 aid stations at the start/finish line and the midpoint are actually only separated by a short walk of a couple hundred yards, so it would be a very easy race at which to crew/spectate. (The course map can be found here.) This event is very friendly to campers, families, and friends who want to be there to take it in and offer support to the runners. We had great weather this year and it looked to me like the spectators and crew-folk had a good time cheering everyone on. 

Race Summary

Given that I was able to rely on some habits earned over the course of several previous races of this distance and longer, preparation was not a huge issue on race day. I car-camped overnight and actually parked my car very near the barn. Since I ran right by it on each loop I could utilize it for needed wardrobe adjustments and as a place to stash/switch out my gear. It was extremely convenient and allowed for a little extra latitude in handling any issues that would come up. I basically rolled in with a handheld, my Huma gels, a few extra supplies, and left some extra clothes in my car (the race day weather forecast was uncertain, even though it ended up being a perfect day). It was a much more minimal approach than I have taken in past races. Honestly, I found it refreshing to just "roll out and go".

The day presented an opportunity to run with old friends, make new friends, and enjoy what turned out to be a perfect day for running. While there were a few sprinkles in the morning and some stretches of the trail were muddy (see the "puddle of death" above), the sun did eventually come out, the footing was generally fine, and the cool north breezes made the day very pleasant. Many of the smaller puddles dried up and footing was not a problem. I was able to run comfortably for much of the day - sometimes with companions, sometimes alone - and the miles just ticked by. On a loop course it's easy to get into a zone, and this one was no different; yet, there were still enough changes in the scenery to keep it interesting.

Photo credit: Libby Halas-Jones.

I stuck with my nutrition plan of 200 cal/hour and on this day that plan worked perfectly. I had no real issues with energy. The Huma gels that I tried for the first time at Cactus were fantastic. If something went awry I had several packets of Tailwind with me, but they weren't needed for this race.

The one thing I could not really shake was the fatigue in my legs that crept in as the day drew on. I was actually pleasantly surprised that I was able to make it for 30+ miles before I really felt it, but the combined efforts of a long training cycle, several races over the past year, and a tough 100-miler only a few weeks prior caught up to me. I was able to maintain a steady pace at the end but any extra "boost" in my legs had all but vanished.

That being said, I was happy to bring it in in under 10 hours. After an up-and-down year I was very pleased to finish on a bit of a high note. I accomplished my hastily devised goals for this race (finish in under 10 hours and don't get injured) and still snag a top-10 overall. It was a great day, made better by the fantastic people who ran, organized, cheered, and volunteered. I'd love to go back to Warda someday, maybe even with a little more preparation and planning....       

(finishing pic coming soon!)

Thoughts on Cactus Rose 100

Cactus Rose 100

The past month has seen many comings and goings for me, most notably the passing of summer and the advent of autumn (awesome!) and another major running adventure in the hill country of central Texas. I chose not to write my typically detailed post-race recap for Cactus Rose 100 this year because the race followed much the same pattern as my other endurance races - a good start, a few wobbles, a major crash, a rebound, then a charge to the finish. I'm starting to sound like a broken record. Recounting what seems like a string of difficulties on the way to a buckle (in this case, extremely poor weather for much of the race left over from a passing hurricane, difficult course conditions, running well for a while, suffering electrolyte depletion resulting in painful cramps and back spasms, giving up at mile 75, checking back in an hour later, grinding out a finish in 30 hours) is becoming redundant; suffice it to say, it was a tough day. But then again, I'm still looking for a 100-mile race report that gives the impression that ANY race of that distance was easy, regardless of the course or conditions. 

I recently read a blog post from a fellow 100-mile finisher that summed up the mental side of these races very well:

The crux of a 100 are the mental games we play in the wee hours as our mind wrestles with the decision to quit or not, and this is what makes 50 miles categorically different than 100. Just about anyone who can complete a 50 in 12 hours can also complete a 100 in 30. It's not really a factor of extra training. 50s are little more than a feat of physical endurance, but what gets you from 50 to 100 is between your ears.

Here's a concrete example that we hear all the time, given as an excuse to quit: "It stopped being fun." That person played the 100 mile mental game, and lost. The point of a 100 is to continue even when it sucks. Don't like it? You should have entered a 50.

And that's the special appeal that 100 milers have. That's what makes 100s unique. Most beginning ultrarunners think 100s are merely a next step from the marathon or 50. But I've completed the 100-mile distance eleven times now - and let me tell you - 100s still intimidate the hell out of me. They're an exercise in getting over everything you're dealing with - mentally - and continuing towards the goal no matter what. It takes a massive amount of mental energy, so much in fact that I can't do more than a few per year. I simply don't have the mental capacity. Right now I'm sore and tight and achy and can't walk very well, and those are expected outward manifestations of having run an ultra. But what may not be obvious is that I'm just as exhausted mentally as I am physically.

-Steven Tursi (http://stevetursi.blogspot.com/)

I couldn't agree more. 

Reece, Me, Matt, Aaron

Cactus Rose #2

Finishing...

Going back to Cactus....

In light of the demise of my Grindstone 100 plans, I've shifted my focus toward a return to the hills of central Texas for Cactus Rose 100 later this month. I think that from a physical fitness standpoint I am in a pretty good place right now. After my difficult 30-hour epic ordeal from last year I think I still have something to prove to myself out there. As it stands right now I'll be following the same schedule as late 2014-early 2015: Cactus Rose 100 in a few weeks, followed by a few weeks of rest before I gear up for the gauntlet of the Bandera 100k in January, Rocky Raccoon 100 in February, and Boston Marathon in April. I'm looking forward to improving on my ultra distance races and then seeing how things shake out in Boston. I think I may have worked a few things out in training that could help - not to mention I've spent the summer preparing for a mountain race. We'll see how it comes together on race day.

Grindstone....Cancelled!

I shake my fist at you, Joaquin!

While I've heard that in Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen, apparently in Virginia this is not the case. Sadly, Grindstone 100 was cancelled this year on account of one such hurricane. It seems that the uncertainty of the direction of the newly minted Hurricane Joaquin has given the US Forest Service in Virginia pause, and the risks of flooding and severe weather appear too great to allow our race (or anything else for that matter) to move forward this weekend.

It's a tough one, but I know that the folks who had to make the call are taking everyone's safety into account. Ultrarunners are by nature a hardscrabble bunch but the last thing anyone wants is a story in the news about someone getting swept away in a flash flood.

So it's time to move on. I don't consider my summer of training to be for naught though. I am looking at a couple of other races over the coming weeks that could fit the schedule for a fall 100 miler. Right now the most likely candidate seems to be Cactus Rose 100, which would set the stage for another run at the Tejas 300. I'm having a hard time getting over the "been there, done that" feeling though. I would like to have a chance to improve upon my time at Cactus Rose from last year, so there's that. We'll see. 

In the mean time, it's back to training for me.


UPDATE:

Thanks to some last-minute efforting on the part of the RD, the race will take place after all - one week later. Unfortunately my schedule doesn't allow me to travel that weekend so I'll put this race on the shelf and thanks to a deferred entry and reduced entry fee keep it in the bag as a possibility for 2016. Hopefully the trails will be clear and dry for the runners on race day!