Pre States Thoughts

Well it looks like I’m going to make it to the starting line. I should be healthy (I think) and fit, (for the most part). Since the American River 50 mile, I had a down week, 3 weeks at 100 miles, couple of weeks around 60-70 due to an injury, and 3 more weeks around 100 miles. I was planning on a gradual taper starting 3 weeks out, but it’s been a steeper drop off than I wanted due to another injury. But I’m here now. I’ve had some painful runs that I probably should have skipped and many wonderful ones that reminded me how much I love this sport. My extra long runs have been 39, 50, 32, & a 46 solo. They have all gone well with no real major issues. I’ve been hitting the sauna and have done a few overdressed runs to hopefully help my body deal with the heat. This is the time to second guess your training. Did I start my taper to early? Should I have done at least one more run over 50 miles? Did I do enough downhill?? I know I should have hit the Rooster Rock at least one more time. In the end I’m sure we all could have trained just a little smarter and that keeps us coming back I guess. This training period has really been a balance of finding my limits. Not so much doing amazing workouts and high volume, but more knowing when to back off just long enough to stay healthy. Seems I have had just about everything pop up this season. My left knee thing has been with me the entire time, but I can keep it in check by not doing to many miles and keeping up my physical therapy exercises. I had a good scare by hurting my Tibialis anterior in early May by running downhill fast with no warm up. It was difficult to walk let alone run after that one. I started getting pain on my right heel in the mornings (tends to go away within a ½ hour) and recently I pulled something in my left calf running to fast on the track. The calf thing is what I’m worried about quite a bit right now, but I’m hoping that if I don’t run all that much these last few days it should be good enough. I like to pretend that this constant push / pull in training will help me problem solve and deal with issues during the race, at least that’s how I’m going to spin it. The race starts well before June 27th and many of us beat ourselves before we even make it to the start line. As our most famous enemy of the state, Dick Cheney, said, “you go to war with the army you have not the one you wish you had”. I think the rest of his quote is “…the important thing however is going to war”. What are my goals for my first Western States run? I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. Having come face to face with the mortality of my running career last year I’d say my number one goal is to start and finish. I also hope to find out a little bit more about myself. Not to misrepresent myself, I plan to place as well as I can but I’m trying to keep the competition element in perspective. I’m really looking forward to sharing what I think will be an incredibly difficult, soul searching journey with hundreds of other folks like me. Final thought: I should have done Rooster one more time.

American River 50 mile Race Report

Matt Lonergan and I went out in a very comfortable 6:20 pace, knowing that we should know better. However there was another group up front running faster, so that made me feel like I was being smart. Things were still smooth around the first hill at about 19. I had a friend (Steve Brusig) handing me full bottles so my aid stations were going fast. I was trying out the First Endurance gel bottles, and had the super smart idea of just having Steve hand it to me then downing it (4 gels worth) and giving it back to him so I didn't have to carry the flask. I only tried that twice, obviously not a great idea. I came through the marathon at 2:50, probably in 6th or 7th. The trail section from maybe 30-40 was much more technical than I expected and I think it took a lot out of me. Steve joined me for the last 10 miles which was really helpful. Mile 40 to around 47 was much easier running, and I tried to get back into it with limited success. I also had some stomach issues and was feeling bloated. As a result, I wasn't taking any GU's and took more water instead of GU2O. I had a VERY slow climb the last few miles I was passed by one runner. My weight was up some at the end and I think I took a total of about 15 S! caps. The weather was amazing and the course was surprisingly scenic, especially towards the end. I defiantly learned some lessons (don’t take a ton of gel all at once). It would have been nice to finish better, but overall I was happy with it. My folks met me at the end and we all received a nice finisher’s jacket. Much like Cool, the race course was changed some from its historic route so it was hard to tell how my time compared to previous runs.

Way 2 Cool Race Report

First of all, I was really glad to be racing because, 1, See knee story below; and 2, I hadn’t signed up for the race that typically fills in a manner of minutes. After some minor begging, the race director, Julie Fingar, let me in 3. I got to sport my new Sunsweet gear. Looking over the start list I didn’t recognize many names but that really doesn’t mean a whole lot since I’m terrible with names, and am somewhat new to the sport. I thought Kochik, Skaden, and Grossman would be guys to look for. It can help to know who some of the real players are so you don’t get overly excited and get sucked into the “out-fast-and-die” folks. The first two miles were on a gentle down grade with one slight rise, so they were very fast: 5:45’s. Aside from the shirtless, tattooed guy, all the folks I was with seemed like the real deal. We were running fairly hard and mixing it up most of the way back to the highway crossing. As we crossed the highway it looked like it was Grossman, Pantilat, another guy, me, Kochik, and Berkontiz. I topped off my bottle and grabbed an extra Gu. As we headed out on the trails, I think that Pantilat had started to really establish himself as the one to beat but Grossman, Berkonitz and I were all right there. I remember thinking around mile 20 that this was more than I bargained for. I was hoping places would have been established for the most part and I could just dial in and run my race. Instead it seemed there was constantly someone who you thought you could pass or who was trying to pass you back. At Ball Bearing Hill, on the way up to the ALT aid station at mile 26, I could see Pantilat up there and either Berkonitz or Grossman behind me. That was the last I saw of anyone. On the way back I was able to spend a little more time looking around-- there are some really beautiful and easy running sections in there. The out-bound runners were all very nice and quickly gave me room to pass. I made an effort to give a quick “thank you” to everyone. It gets a little old after a while, but I kept thinking how nice it was of everyone to pause their race so that I could make mine a tiny bit faster. Folks kept saying things like “He’s got 30 seconds on you.” Then it was: “He’s got 1 minute on you,” or “1.5 minutes.” It was clear Pantilat was pulling away and looking at the splits it looks like he was going maybe 10 seconds/mile faster. I finished 2nd in 3:42:58. Taking the average pace and subtracting the 1.6 miles that was added in 2009 I would have finished in 3:31:30 on the old course a good 2 minutes faster than last year so I was happy about that. I did a few things differently from last year. I was in better shape and I took more Gu’s and S-Caps, probably 8-10 S-caps in all. BTW the oldest finisher was Bill Dodson age 74, he wins.

My Knee Injury

Last June, two days after Western States was cancelled, I went out on a 56-mile consolation run by myself on the McKenzie River trail. The trail is always beautiful, but I had a terrible run; I ran out of water and salt, and ultimately, injured my knee. It was a good thing I hadn’t raced at Western States. After some time off for healing, I still had a fair amount of pain on the inside of my left knee. Finally, in October, I’d had enough. I made an appointment with a well known running/sports doctor in Eugene. He had some ideas, but wanted to do an MRI to be sure. The MRI was somewhat inconclusive, but he thought the meniscus had torn. This brings me to the real subject of this post. I’ve been running and racing since age eleven. I run because I love to, because I have to. It is good for my mental and physical health, and probably feeds a good chunk of my self esteem. However, I always told myself if I ever got to a point where my running was causing long-term damage or was in some other way bad for me, I would be strong enough to shift my energy and focus. I would view it as an opportunity to challenge myself in different ways, and try activities I’d never attempted or had time to do, wrapped up as I was with running. “Well, it looks like you might have a torn meniscus,” the doctor said. “Every runner has 30 years or so of good running in them, so you’ve had a great go at it.” He continued: “You might want to consider transitioning to lower mileage—you’d be surprised how well you can still race on 30 miles a week!” So this, it seemed, was it. Surgery might be an option, but did I really want to consider that option if ultimately I might be damaging my body more by continuing to run? A whole world of physical activity exists—I wanted to be walking around in the woods at age 90, and I wasn’t willing to sacrifice that in order to feed my addiction at age 37. Right? OK! Time to get out on the bike, swim laps at the pool, get out to go rock-climbing… I would be having so much fun I wouldn’t even notice when the running reaper came snooping around. The problem with Ultrarunning magazine is that after you pay your subscription, it shows up at your door whether or not you are running. At first I read it from cover to cover, finding joy in the amazing races, and peoples’ stories, even if I wasn’t joining them. But, a few months into my new no-running lifestyle, it just made me depressed and I recycled it shortly after it arrived. Other aspects of my new training life were harder to ignore: the smell of fall leaves, the rich reds and browns of the Amazon trail in November, the rain clouds slipping over and around Spencer’s Butte, the sound of alder branches moving against each other in an autumn breeze, and, of course, the endorphins. Biking didn’t do it, swimming didn’t come close, and I’m not a gym rat. And then there was the unknown—the unfinished question of Western States. I’d reached a point where I wanted to be on the starting line of that race more than just about anything. After 6 months or so, lots of time lifting weights and stretching, a different doctor, a very slow build up, and a new physical therapist, I’m back. Turns out it wasn’t a torn meniscus and hopefully I’m not doing long term damage to my body. I can almost take things for granted again. I still like to think I can let go of competitive running someday if I had to, but I certainly learned a lot about myself this past year. I’m a long distance runner and it’s what I should be doing. When I scan ultra race results now I look for the oldest finishers. It’s one thing to place near the top; it’s another to still be doing what you love when you are 70 or older.

Team Sunsweet

LB has graciously taken upon himself to talk to the folks with Sunsweet and they have offered me a spot on the team. The Ultrarunning Sunsweet Team is sponsored by Sunsweet Growers Inc. of Yuba City and SportHill of Eugene. The team has high quality runners but is fairly low pressure and is driven more by a shared love of the sport. http://www.teamsunsweet.com/ Most importantly, from time to time I hear there will be free fruit.

New Blog

Well it seems that to be a real ultra-runner you need to have a blog, as if we don’t give enough time the sport already. At least for now this will primarily be a running blog. Like most running blogs I have seen, if I'm posting a lot then I'm running well, and if I'm not then I'm not. Oh and just to see if LB can find this I'm going to use the words "Western States 100"