Good Times at Cruel Jewel

Camp Morganton aid station  - the "turnaround".

I really enjoy pacing gigs. Pacing other runners in 100k or 100 mile races offers a great opportunity for fellowship, allows me to be a quasi-participant in the race, provides me with a chance to help someone achieve a successful outcome, and acts as a great training opportunity while simulating race-day conditions. I'm far from a perfect pacer but it's usually a win-win. So when the offer to pace my friend and MTGE coach, Ryan Knapp, at the Cruel Jewel 106 came up, I jumped at the chance.

Cruel Jewel is a tough race. (Let's just get that out there.) For the uninitiated, it's a 106-mile trek through the Blue Ridge mountains of northern Georgia. This race is one of the few east-coast Hard Rock qualifiers - meaning it's an ass kicker of a race. From what I saw out on the trail it definitely lives up to it's reputation. My job would be to bring Ryan in from the turnaround at mile 50 to around mile 81, keeping us moving at a decent clip through the early morning hours and into the middle of the day.

Rather than try to provide a blow-by-blow account of our day, I'll just hit a few bullet point observations about my experience in the North Georgia mountains:

-Ryan is a baller. 106 miles in 38 hours over that terrain, in those conditions (sunny and hot during the day, with a major storm rolling in during the second night), simply blew me away. There's no quit in that guy. Huge props to him.

-Ryan has a beautiful, wonderful, supportive family. (Not to mention 2 great dogs.) They're full of love and life, and it was a joy to be around them. He is a blessed man indeed, on top of being one hell of an athlete.

-That course lives up to its reputation as one of the toughest trails in the eastern U.S. Apparently they never got the memo about switchbacks out there - everything is straight up the mountains, then straight back down.

-I could really tell that the climbing I have been doing in my training on the treadmill and in my experience at Athens Big Fork is paying off. Despite the challenge of these rugged climbs and descents, I was able to handle them without any problems at all. Minimal soreness after the race.

-Great aid stations at this race. They were well-stocked, the volunteers were enthusiastic and very helpful, and they had Tailwind! Bonus, bonus, bonus.

-We were out there for around 10 hours together and I was thrilled to have ZERO stomach issues! Anyone who knows me knows this is a big deal. I made it a point in each aid station to take care of Ryan first, then to make sure I had something to eat with some protein in it. What this ended up looking like was I would eat a ham and cheese or turkey and cheese sandwich, a couple pickle slices, a handful of M&M's, and a couple cups of coke. In between aid stations I would sip on some Tailwind. I also had a bottle of plain water to wash down the sweetness of the tailwind. This worked to perfection. I felt strong all day. I kept waiting for something to "go wrong" but nothing ever did. Hallelujah!

-Did I mention that Ryan is a baller?

-The Blue Ridge Mountains are absolutely beautiful. I was struck by how lush, green, and verdant the landscape was. The flora along the trail was stunning. I felt as if I was in Eden itself. We have been given such a beautiful world around us to celebrate and enjoy. It is disheartening that so often we choose to ignore such rudimentary blessings that require us only to walk out our door and open our eyes.

-I need to run this race someday.

-When I was observing the runners at the starting line before the race began, I got the impression that there were a few who were not quite aware of what they were about to take on. Now I don't say that to judge anyone, because you never know how much fight and fire a man or woman has in their heart. But given that almost half of the runners dropped out at some point I think there may have been a little underestimating going on. For instance, if you are going to head out for what is the toughest stretch of the race (the first 12 miles, known affectionately as the "Dragon's Spine") carrying only a plastic handheld water bottle in the heat of midday and no additional gear or support, then I am led to conclude that you might you might be getting in over your head. Just saying.

-If you are driving your car along a road in which it is CLEARLY noted that an activity is taking place, like a running or a biking race or whatever, AND is is dark outside, then slow the F down. We were almost taken out heading out of the mile 50 aid station by some jackhole doing 80 who swerved toward us while we were running along a stretch of road. Idiot.

-31 miles in 10 hours on this course was just what I needed in my lead up to Western States. And doing it with Ryan was an added bonus. He gave me tons of great advice, and I was deeply inspired by his perseverance. He really ran with his head and his heart - he was smart enough to dial it back during the heat of the day, allowing him the energy to surge overnight. The storm that rolled in on the second night derailed his anticipated 36-hour finish, but it was still an amazing effort. For a very select few, ultras are about running the edge, hard and fast. For us mortals it's about using our heads. He did that and was rewarded.

-As much as I enjoyed my time with Ryan, I was equally blessed to get to know the rest of the crew - his wife Jessica, his friend and second pacer Tara, and his parents Cindy and Frank. And of course his son West. (Someone please tell West "Heyyyyyyyy...." from Mr Chris.) I can't say enough about everyone's selflessness. Great group.

-The Cruel Jewel belt buckle is huge.

-That Ryan is a baller. Oh, and I want to run this race someday.

The thrill of victory.
Photo: Jessica Knapp

 
Ryan has composed a great recap of his day that can be found here.

The Great Thing About Training for Four 100-Mile Races

53 Days on the Clock! (Photo: @zach_zweig via twitter)

This training cycle has been pretty awesome. Given that I have to prepare for 4 races instead of just 1 "A"-race, the pressure to push myself to meet some sort of time goal at Western States has been completely removed. Sure, 24 hours would be nice, but I am not sweating it. I am incorporating some speed work into the routine just because running fast is fun but I would not say that it is anything approaching the level of intensity that one might find in a BQ-level marathon training regimen. It's been really quite pleasant.

In preparing for my first 100 mile race back in 2014, I logged several weeks with mileage in the 80+ range and even a couple over 110 miles. That was exhausting both physically and mentally, and whether it made a considerable impact on my finishing time is debatable. But what all those miles did teach me was how to be comfortable being uncomfortable and how to keep plugging along when I really, REALLY wanted to stop.

Flash forward to 2017. My training load has been considerably less, and yet I feel lighter and stronger as a result. My weekly loads right now are in the 60-mile per week range. I'll bump up into the 70's and maybe "touch" 80, but not much more than that. The plan is to use each race as a training race for the next race. Right now my primary focus is getting to Western States feeling good, healthy, and ready to roll.

Over the past 4 years or so I have been blessed to enjoy solid, consistent training and racing with very little time off for injury. The idea of trying to "cram" a bunch of miles in here in advance of Western States is just nonsense to me. If, over the years, the accumulated mileage and overall fitness I have attained by the miles upon miles of training and racing aren't going to get me through the Grand Slam, then the Slam is not within my reach. It's not for me. I don't think I could possibly have trained more, trained better, or done anything differently (given my state in life right now, that is). And so, with 7 weeks, to go, I am very much at peace with where I am and with where this thing is headed.

The home stretch approaches. Anything can still happen but I have placed this in the hands of Divine Providence for His glory, not mine. If it is meant to happen, God's will be done. If not, then God's will be done. Fine. I will be able to rest knowing I did everything I could.

Now if my finicky stomach would just be so kind as to cooperate, THAT would be great. Yes indeed.

Embracing the Suck

59 DAYS TO WESTERN STATES

For the past few weeks, I have been hashing and rehashing a number of possible scenarios for the 4 races of the Slam. I've been going over nutrition options, hydration options, rest, recovery, pacers, crew - you name it, I've thought of it. I've been trying to figure out how I can make this process as "painless" as possible.

Yesterday, while on a semi-long recovery run while on a business trip in Rochester, the thought came to me out on the trail that I am trying to avoid the inevitable. I am trying to make this experience "pleasant". I am hoping it will be "fun". But the bottom line is that, no matter how much I want this to NOT suck, here is the inescapable, unavoidable fact:

This is going to suck.

Sure there will be moments of ecstasy but I expect them to be interspersed between quite a bit of agony. In the words of the Angry Jogger himself, at some point (and probably at several points) along the way, things are going to go "tits up". The question I have to be able to answer is, what am I going to do then? Am I going to fight the good fight? Keep plugging along? Or allow that voice in the back of my head to talk me into dropping out, hoping that by some miracle I get another crack at this thing?

I have run several ultras now, and at some point in nearly every single one of them, things have gone terribly awry. I have powered through and finished most of them, dropped out of a few, but in every case I have looked back on the race wondering what I could have done differently to avoid the pain and the struggle. I've made a few changes here and there that have helped, but the bottom line is that the struggle is going to happen. It always has and it always will. It's coming, regardless of the level of preparation and training I put into this. So now, realizing this, what do I do?

Embrace the suck.

That's really all there is to it. The chances that I will get through one race, let alone four of them, without a mental and/or physical crash are beyond minuscule. When the darkness comes, I have to be prepared to go through it. There's a lot I could say about the redemptive power of suffering here, but I will save that for another post. Suffice it to say I should be quite redeemed by the end of this thing. Can I find joy in the difficulty? Gratefulness in the midst of darkness? Hope that I can go on when despair and doubt creep into my psyche?

There is no doubt that the physical challenges of these races will be immense, but I am beginning to realize that the real battles will be in my mind and soul. Would that I can at maintain my peace and joy while those battles rage on.

"The purest suffering bears and carries in it's train the purest understanding." 

-St. John of the Cross 

Happy Birthday Pope Benedict!

Crux brings this delightful picture to us today in honor of Emeritus Pope Benedict's 90th. Here's to many more!

Athens Big Fork Marathon Race Recap

ABF Class of 2017! (I'm in the back)

Last weekend I had the opportunity to travel up to the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas to run the storied Athens Big Fork trail marathon, a low-key but grueling event that involves climbing 8 mountains TWICE over the 26 mile course. As I am wont to do I signed up on the spur of the moment - not really understanding exactly what I was getting myself into.

The race website is pretty clear about the fact that this race is anything but a walk in the park. It's typically held in January when icy winds and freezing water crossings are a pressing concern; but this year, due to some weather complications in January, it was moved back to April. I considered myself fortunate to have had a chance to enjoy the springtime running of this race when the forest was coming to life and warmer spring winds made for a pleasant, albeit a little warm, day out among the Arkansas pines.  

Despite having done a little reading about the course in advance, I found the mountains to be much more steep and technical than I anticipated. The first and last 2 1/2 miles of the course are on roads so the climbing and descending are compressed into around 21 miles. My Garmin registered around 7,500' of climbing but I am not sure I trust my watch - other reports have the climbing at over 9,000'. Regardless of the final total, it's a LOT of up and down.

Between the mountains there were stretches of trail that ran through the valleys that I found to be very runnable. In addition, there were about 4 or 5 stream crossings (each way) that made for a refreshing break for tired feet - the water was cool and it felt fantastic, especially on the way back when the temperature began to approach 80 degrees.

Running through one of the valleys...

For the most part, my trip for the outbound 13-ish miles was pleasant and uneventful. I found the climbs to be challenging but not overwhelming. I broke out my new Black Diamond trekking poles (I'm sure I will get plenty of use out of these this summer) and got to work. The only excitement heading outbound came in the form of a pretty spectacular fall I sustained while descending a technical stretch of single track. It came on the backside of the 6th mountain at around mile 11 when, for a brief moment, I lost my focus and jammed my foot against a small rock outcropping. I fell head over heels, skidding over limestone and coming to rest in a briar patch. I guess it pays to keep your eyes on the trail, especially when running downhill! After picking myself up and dusting myself off, I limped on for a while until I felt like I could run again. I made it to the turnaround point in around 2:40, surveyed my cuts and bruises, and began the trek back.

The trip back to Big Fork was considerably more difficult for me. It seemed that every climb was steeper, longer, and more technical as the day drew on. The meat grinder that you go through on the way out becomes a pounding on the way back, and since I was still in pretty rough shape from my fall it was tough for me to get any rhythm on the downhills. So, needless to say, I did a lot of hiking on the way back. To make matters worse, I got off course a few times and ended up with almost 29 miles on the day (I would say the course markings are adequate but can be missed if not paying attention). It was slow going to be sure. I was glad to reach the last aid station knowing I only had 4 miles to go - which would include just 1 more mountain to climb before I reached the roads again.

Views from the top.

The last climb was relatively easy compared to the others, and before I knew it I was back out on the roads. I knew I would make good time when I was back in my element, and sure enough, I was able to quickly accelerate and make up some ground. I was eager to finish and hurried along, finishing (finally) in 6 hours and 40 minutes. In the spirit of this race, there were 2 guys standing at the finish line - my cheering section - who sort of applauded and reminded me to sign out. I found this to be quite funny at the moment, and despite the fact that I was dehydrated, sore, exhausted, and hungry, I could not help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

After the race I commiserated with some of the other finishers at the community center. Many of us struggled to the finish as the warm temperatures caught many runners off guard. But, we made it. Inside the community center there were crockpots full of casseroles and trays of homemade pastries courtesy of some of the locals who came out to take care of us. Since my stomach was still a little sideways from the tough day, I passed on the chicken gumbo and the chili, but took note of their hospitality and thanked them all profusely.

In my opinion, this is a "must-do" race. Since it is usually in January I am sure the normal conditions are very different from what I experienced, but I have no doubt it is every bit as difficult (if not more so) in winter. It has everything in a trail race that you want - technical single track, challenging climbs, remote wilderness - and there are even fully stocked aid stations manned by eager and helpful volunteers - which is really cool, considering the race is free! I can't say enough about how "chill" the vibe of this race is. It's one of the things that drew me in to trail running in the first place and keeps me coming back.

Epilogue

That race blew me up. Looking back now, a few days after the event, I am still glad I went, but I have basically lost this week of training and will probably take several more days to fully recover. As a result I have modified my training plan - there will be no more training races. I had planned on running a 50-miler later this month in the Texas Hill Country, but I have scratched that off the list. The risk of injury and the time needed to recover again outweigh any training benefit I might receive. I will have the opportunity to do some pacing at the difficult Cruel Jewel 100 in Georgia next month, but that will be it. My goal now is to get strong again and resume a full training load before tapering in early June.

Back to Grasslands - 2017 Grasslands Trail Marathon Race Report & Training Update

My trail racing season officially began this past weekend on the dusty horse trails near Decatur, Texas, at a race that I have become all-too familiar with: The annual Grasslands Trail Runs. I have run the 50 mile race out there a couple of times in the past and had a general level of familiarity about what I was in for when I signed up, but this would be my first crack at the marathon distance. The funny thing about this event is that, given that it takes place in mid-March in north Texas, the weather can be very unpredictable. Whether I have been running or volunteering, every trip up to Grasslands has presented something different - cold, rain, mud, dry sand...this year's version of the race would present a heaping helping of dry, loose sand and some warmer than usual temperatures. With Texas being Texas, you just get used to the variations and learn to roll with it.

My last few weeks of training had been pretty solid so I had some high hopes for this race - I set a "great day" goal of 3:45, a "decent day" goal of 4 hours, and a "whatever" goal of....whatever. I was not really concerned so much about placing because one can never control who shows up (if team Hoka rolls in here and decides to run the marathon, what are ya gonna do??). So I thought I'd just go with how I felt and see what happens.

There were a couple of last-minute reroutes to the course that necessitated an early morning briefing from Chris Barnwell, the Grasslands race director. Once all the formalities were handled and a prerace picture had been snapped, the countdown quickly drew down and, at 7am sharp, the race began.

WHITE LOOP - 12.80 MILES

I started out of the gate very comfortably with the lead pack. In the predawn hours the temperatures were a little warm but generally pleasant. As we all settled in I enjoyed some chatter with the guys out on the trail. I chose not to run with a headlight, opting instead to make my way by means of the ambient light from the moon and the headlamps of the other runners. (It would just become an unnecessary nuisance once the sun came up within the hour anyway.) I bounced around in the top-5 for the first few miles, not feeling too particularly concerned about who was where and was more concerned about just staying comfortable. Aside from a few minor wrong turns and short course corrections, I stayed in that lead pack for the entire loop. It was fun to be out running fast and I considered for a moment how blessed I am to be able to do this crazy thing that I love so much. As the sun came up over the horizon and the day began to awaken, I tried to take it all in and offer what gratitude I could muster to Him who gave us this day to enjoy.

For the most part, the footing on the trail was pretty solid early on. There were a few soft spots where the sand was loose and grainy, but it wasn't anything that was too difficult to navigate. I found the running to be very pleasant and enjoyed the company of the other guys. Eventually, we spread out a little bit and I began to run on my own. I plugged in for some music and zoned out for a while, keeping up the pace and finishing the White Loop comfortably in around 1:39.

Feeling good at the turn!

BLUE LOOP - 13.50 MILES

I was in and out of the start/finish area quickly, as I only stopped to refill by bottle with Tailwind before I was off for the second loop. By my count, I was in around 4th or 5th place at the turn and still felt pretty good. I hoped that if my luck held up I could make up a little ground on the leaders. It was not long after I left the start/finish area that I ran into some traffic on the trail, as the half marathon - which began an hour and a half after the marathon - had just started. As I tried to patiently navigate and weave through the new contingent of runners who had entered the fray I lost sight of the guys ahead of me, and had to be content with trying to maintain my pace among several lines of single-file runners on the narrower sections of the trail.

In addition to the slew of new runners out on Blue Loop, I was beginning to notice that the temperatures had begun to rise considerably as the sun broke above the treetops. Despite my intentions to keep a positive attitude and push through it, I noticed my heart rate began to climb while my mile splits began to slip. Around 18 miles in, I made the decision to ease back on my pace, lest I risk burning out short of the finish line! The next 3-4 miles were slower going (comparatively) but I was able to maintain at least a comfortable jog for the most part.

Coming in to the last aid station. Not feeling so great - I even forgot to smile for the camera!
(Thanks to Mark O for this one as well.)

As I entered the last aid station at mile 23, I was really trying to keep it together - my bottle was empty and my spirits were a little down. I was moving decently but not as well as I had hoped when I began the loop. Fortunately I had a secret weapon waiting for me at the last aid station - my daughter, who had come out to help for the day, was there! Oh happy day!! I was so glad to see her and hear her call out to me. I wish I had felt a little better, but she's seen me in low points in races before so she knew what to expect. They quickly patched me up at the aid station, and after a hug and a kiss from my daughter, I was off again.

And, I'm off! (Thanks to Shama for the pic!)

Best Aid Station EVERRRRR! (Thanks to Mark O for the pic!)

The last few miles were a mix of pushing hard, easing back, hiking a little, pushing, easing up, repeat, repeat...The temperature was approaching 80 at this point and I was just about ready to call it a day. There's a stretch of the course that runs alongside a dam before climbing a hill back up to the main road that marks the entrance to the park, signaling to the runners that the end is near. I felt a little more spring in my step knowing the finish line was not that far off, and once I climbed the last hill I pushed the pace until at last I reached the parking area. I had forgotten about the short re-route around the finish line that added another 3/4-mile to the course but I was able to dispatch with that rather quickly and finish in a solid 3:28.

I'd say overall the day went well for me - the course was in great shape, the camaraderie out there was fantastic, and the race organizers did an amazing job of juggling a last-minute rush of entrants coupled with some searing March temperatures. Chris Barnwell and NTTR have a great track record for solid events and this one was no different - right down to the catered barbeque post-run meal for the runners! The one thing I think I can count on, though, is that if and when I do come back to run this race in the future, the scene will probably look very different!

POST SCRIPT - 13 WEEKS TO WESTERN STATES

It's been a few days since Grasslands and I am pleased to report that I feel very good - no soreness or fatigue to speak of. I took Sunday & Monday off just to be sure everything was good to go. I was back at it with an hour hike on the treadmill at 15% incline and a couple miles of easy running early this morning. I'll have a couple recovery runs over the next few days that will add some easy miles to this week before I get to some more steady climbing and distance work again over the weekend. With a little over 3 months to go before this thing kicks off, I have to say that I am encouraged by where I am right now - but I realize there is much work still to be done.

And so, the work continues. See you in Squaw - or maybe, since I'm a Texan, I should say...

See y'all in Squaw!!

Beginning To See The Starting Line...

It's beginning to dawn on me as the days and weeks pass by with seemingly increasing rapidity that one day very soon I am going to wake up in the dark, predawn hours of the morning in a hotel room in northern California, don my trusty running gear, stumble to the starting line of a crazy mountain race surrounded by a sea of illuminated foreheads, hear a muted countdown, and then at the sound of the gun, begin this epic quest that has dominated my psyche for the past 3 years. In the times when I would daydream about the Grand Slam when I was out on a training runs I had always assumed that I would somehow feel "different" when the time came to run it - that through extensive training, mental preparation, and experience, I would have a deep and varied bag of tricks that would enable me to tough it out and reach beyond the boundaries of my physical capabilities with gusto and panache.

Mr. Incredible!

Well, with under 16 weeks of training time to go until Western States (actually 14 weeks, if you consider a 2-week taper), I am becoming more conscious of the fact that from a preparation standpoint I am NOT going to be a significantly different person from the one I am today. Sure, I'll have a few more weeks worth of training runs under my belt, but really, what am I going to be able to do in these next several weeks that will make much of a difference in my ability to finish? Probably not much. I do have a decent level of experience from which to draw and with a little luck I will have had a solid training cycle behind me when I get to Squaw Valley. Hopefully the weather will cooperate and any problems that might arise from the list of "things I can't control" will stay relatively short. But either way I will have to adapt and overcome.

Because regardless of how much training I put in, or how many dietary changes I make, or how much time I spend in the gym, there are going to be a number of tough moments when I won't want to continue. (Probably several in each race!) There will be wardrobe malfunctions, problems at aid stations, periods of low energy, dehydration, heat, cold, and who even knows what else. The real question will be not so much am I properly trained, but am I completely resolved to continue? Because if I can't answer in the strong "affirmative" to that second question, all other questions are rendered moot.

I'll head to Squaw Valley in June with 20-something years of training and racing behind me. It's that depth of experience that will either get me through this, or it won't. I am keeping in mind that what I do between now and then will be the icing on the cake. The final passes of sharpening the blade on the whetstone, if you will. If I don't have "it" by now, I'm not going to get "it" by the time this thing kicks off in June. That's both a comforting thought and a somewhat disconcerting one!

Ultimately, I am who I am - and that's OK. For now though, the final stages of my preparation begins.