Paved and confused

It's amazing how much running on the road sucks compared to the lightly packed sand and rock of a nice trail. I can honestly say I don't miss running on concrete.

In preparation for the PF Chang marathon coming up here in a couple weeks, I decided that it was probably a good idea to lace up my Newtons and make sure I still remembered how to run on the road. Some people might say, "26.2 miles is still 26.2 miles no matter what". And they'd normally be right. Compared to trail running though, it's torture.

Here are some observations/differences between running on the road and on a trail:

1. The road makes me want to run faster. Whether it's the shoes or my visceral desire to be done faster, my pace definitely picks up running on the road (averaging 8:30-ish compared to (9:30-10-ish on trail)
2. I'm more of "a looker" on the road. Without the obstructions, rocks or undulations of a trail I'm free to gawk and check out the world around me while I run. For example, I saw the biggest damn bird in the world yesterday. A huge hawk was perched near the canal just waiting for me to avert my gaze and become his afternoon snack.
3. Concrete has no bounce. My legs and calves hurt more from a short run on the road than my longest run on a trail. The pounding from the road is just brutal and has left my legs fairly confused and newly sore in several places.

I'll probably keep some of my shorter recovery runs on the road for the next couple weeks just to make sure my legs don't forget what it feels like but honestly, I can't believe I spent my formidable running years out on the pavement.

It just makes me wish I had found trail running sooner.

The fashionable fair-weather freak

I am having *the* most difficult time running in the morning these days. I couldn't tell you why either. It's not like it's snowing and unseasonably cold or anything...low 40's in the morning really isn't that bad.

Plain and simple - Arizona has made me a wimp. 65 degrees (F) and sunny is chilly to me.

Perhaps it's because I really don't like wearing multiple layers or pants to go run. I'm borderline on the clothing as it is today - long-sleeved shirt, cycling top with additional pull-on arm warmers, ear warmers, gloves, compression socks (simply to cover more surface area on my legs), longer-inseam shorts and my Camelbak (only just to keep the heat on my back).

I'm reminiscent of when I was 5 and my mom wrapped me in 14 layers before going out to play in the snow.

Except I'm a grown man.
Wearing shorts.
With gloves. And a red blinker.

If running were a fashion show, I'd be "out".

The good news (fashionable or not), I've still been getting my runs in during the late afternoon.

So when you see a hot-mess running down the road - gloves and all - you'll know exactly who I am :)

Oh what a year!

This time of year it's hard not to reflect back on what is, what has-been and what is still yet to come. While I'll post more on what's-to-come, this post is all about What Has Been in 2011.

In the back of my mind, I want to compare my accomplishments from 2010 to those of the past year but in some ways, it's apples to oranges and not really a fair comparison. 2010 was the 'Year of the Triathlon' - multiple disciplines, more gear and fewer races all culminating with Ironman Arizona. This year's focus was about distilling my focus to a single thing - running. And not just running, but Forrest Gump-like running.

The passion for trail running took me by surprise early in 2011. Combined with inspiration from people like Dean Karnazes, I've been all about pushing the boundaries with my new-found passion and earning my ultra-marathon badge.

So if you've been following these posts at all, you'll know that the "What's Yet to Come" category for 2012 is only going to get bigger and better!

With that, my year in review. Cheers!

PF Chang Marathon

Coming off Ironman Arizona in November 2010, I was fully focused on running. I was in no mood for cycling and the chlorine from the gym pool had eaten holes in all my trunks. My goal for this race was to be under 4 hours. Call it redemption. Call it unfinished business. My only other marathon was back in 2007 (Portland). I had 4 hours in me but just couldn't execute.

I had managed to talk my buddy Erik into running it as well. He's a speedster and a fiercely competitive athletic junkie as well so there was plenty of smack-talking going on prior to the race.

This is the one race I broke the cardinal rule - NOTHING NEW ON RACE DAY. I was swept up in the glamour and hype around compression socks early in the year. So of course I had to wear my new CEP socks on race day and at least look the part of a sub-4 hour marathoner, right?!

As you can imagine, this was a bad idea. Rubbing and blisters ensued and what could have been closer to 3:30 ended up being a 3:50 time. Damn socks.

I had still achieved my goal and was happy with my performance.

Am I satisfied? No.

Could I do better? Yes.

Will I try it again? Damn right.

Ragnar Relay

It's funny how things work. I got recruited through the 'friend-of-a-friend's-friend' network. And so glad that I did. I had done a smaller relay back in the day but never something on this scale and I was intrigued. How could you not be?

12 people. Packed in 2 vans. 36 hours. 200 miles? Sold.

I met some great people as part of this event and and happy that I took the plunge. I honestly think that the hardest part about this race wasn't he actual running but rather all the logistics, planning and driving from point to point. My hat is off to April (the biggest "Fool" of them all) for organizing this for the Ragnar Del Sol class of 2011.

There are too many great memories about this race to re-write them so check out my previous posts if you need the trip down memory lane.

Ragnar Del Sol, Part I

Ragnar, Del Sol, Part II

San Tan Mountain 50k

After PF Chang's, I got this crazy notion that if I could run 26.2 miles, I certainly could handle a few more miles and summarily add the title of "Ultra marathoner" to my resume. How hard could it be?

Knowing that this race would take me off the road, I started investing time down at San Tan park to ensure I was getting hill-work, elevation and the general feel for running on trails instead of concrete. How was I to know that in those few short weeks of training, my world would change.

I L-O-V-E trail running. I love the calm. I love the scenery. I love the smell.

This was a great inaugural 50k run and would prove to be only the beginning of a passion that would carry me through the entire year and beyond.

Black Hills 100 (50 mile race)

So it would only make sense that after running 50 kilometers, the next logical step is to run 50 miles right? Right.

I freely admit that I did not do the proper research on the Black Hills 100 before signing up and look back on that as a learning experience that I will carry with me for a very long time. In comparison, the San Tan 50k had almost 4,300 feet of elevation change - by far the toughest challenge of the entire race. So when I realized that that BH100 had almost 18,000 feet of elevation change, I about blew a gasket. I'm sure I shouted some choice words but after a few days, shrugged it off and resolved to deal with it.

Without going into a ton of details about this day, I can honestly say that this was the most awe-inspiring event I have ever done. Route 89 through the Black Hills of South Dakota is truly a beautiful course and the people, volunteers and aid stations were fantastic. We had a great day to run (though all the creeks were full and swollen).

I did not imagine that the elevation would be that difficult but that's the deceiving part of the Black Hills - there is a gradual elevation that slowly eats away your endurance. Sure, there are some challenging climbs and steep downhill portions but there are so many up-and-downs that over time, your mind and legs become dull and numb from the slow ascent/descents.

I've never been as happy to finish a race than I was this day. The last mile to the finish line felt like an eternity (more so than the previous 5). With friends and family there are the finish line, I was overwhelmed to finish this race just under 14 hours.

My previous race report is here.

Cave Creek Thriller 50k

This race was painful in a different way - I never made it to the finish line due to illness. This was my first race ever that I DNS'ed (did not start).

Pass Mountain 50k

This race was particularly hard given that I was still very under-trained for the distance and still battling some sinus and ear problems. I guess I am just stubborn that way when it comes to making the most of my pre-paid dollars :) I honestly didn't want to piss away another $50 for a race by sitting on my butt at home...so I did the race anyway.

This was the same weekend as the 2011 Ironman Arizona so my buddy Erik (registered for IMAZ) and my family came out to the park to see me finish.

This course has some decent climbs and fairly technical sections that slowed me down pretty significantly. I was cursing the climbs and yelling at the downhills - my legs were screaming enough for both of us too.

This wasn't my best race according to the clock (close to 8 hours) but overall, I had a really good experience with my feet/shoes and my nutrition. Those have historically been problems for me that typically cascade into other problems.

McDowell Mountain 50k

Just this past weekend, I had a great time at this race. The course and the weather were great and while I was definitely in better shape, I was still not feeling like I was completely prepared for this distance. I was resolved to give it my all this day however no matter what.

I ran as much as I could. I forced myself to keep going through all the times I wanted to stop and walk. That doesn't mean I didn't walk - just not as much as the last race :)

The last 5 miles were painful. As in, want-to-stop-and-fall-on-the-ground-like-a-little-baby painful. I had nothing left. But I kept going.

I set a personal best this day - 6 hours and 32 minutes. And had fun doing it.

So what's next?

I'll round out the Aravaipa Trail Series in March - I have the PF Chang marathon and Coldwater Rumble 50k in January followed by the San Tan Scramble 50k again in February. Beyond that, I have yet to sign up for something.

Let's just say, there are plans. Crazy plans. I've yet to pull the trigger but keep coming back and I'm sure I'll be writing more about them soon.

Here's to a great 2011 and an even better 2012. Have a happy, healthy and active 2012!

Trevor

Damaged goods

To close out the McDowell Mountain race last Saturday, here is how I fared:

Overall: 46 out of 51 runners
Age group: 19 out of 20 runners

I've never pretended I'm super-fast, just durable (though secretly, I'd love to keep improving my 50k times).

This is the first race in a long time that I have almost been incapacitated afterwards. I didn't even feel this bad after the 50 mile Black Hills race. Or IMAZ. While Sunday evening you might not think I'd done anything special, come Sunday however, I was in bad shape. I would have paid a ba-zillion dollars for someone to install one of those motorized chairs going up the stairs. Seriously. That's zillion, with a 'ba' in front...

I was walking on my heels all day Sunday and into Monday - legs locked afraid to put pressure on my quads and therefore reeking havoc on my lower back. Side-stepping down the stairs (unsuccessfully I might add because of the damn garland wrapped around the railing) was only part of the hilarity that ensued in our house that day. Even the kids could have crippled me with a well-placed jab to the thigh. It didn't help that we had to stand in line for about 2 hours to get Santa pictures with the kids either...

Thankfully I had a massage scheduled on Monday morning. I reconsidered after I realized that the massage might actually hurt more than finishing the race on Saturday. And it did. Quinn (AFC Chiropractic) is great and is just doing her job but secretly, I'm sure she loves to make grown men squirm and whimper by just pressing your IT band with her thumb.

Turns out, a massage is just what the body needed.

I am on the mend today and managed to get out for a short recovery run in between the rain storms. There are only a few short weeks of training between my next races (Yes, multiple. Yes, less than 5 days apart) in January. More about that later.

McDowell Mountain Race Report

McDowell Mountain Regional Park is quite a haul from the east valley so I was up at about 4:30 am, had some breakfast and then headed out to the race. That early in the morning, there is zero traffic so I arrived just a little before 6 am - time to check in.

The start was fairly uneventful though I did get the chance to speak with a couple guys whom I learned this was their first 50K. I also think this crowd was a little bit larger than the last race at Pass Mountain. In either case, the gun sounded and we were off.

I'm not sure if it was the week that I'd taken off or the breezy cold (read, 42 F) conditions prior to the race but that first mile (a) felt like a eternity and (b) felt like my quads were going to explode. I'm going to go with the cold and breezy conditions Monty.

The first 5 miles of the course was mostly groomed trail and a lot more undulation terrain than I was expecting. Not that it was bad, but compared to Pass Mountain (which was mostly flat the first 5 miles), this got the blood pumping right away.

I had really checked myself this time...not wanting to blow my legs up too early, I managed to keep my pace down near a 9:30-10 minutes per mile. With the undulating terrain, it wasn't that hard. My legs were starting to warm up but still, I could feel the muscles at the very core of my quads just screaming for relief. Miles 5 through 10 seemed to be this gradual uphill climb that just went on forever...nothing too technical, just a long, shallow grind.

Beyond this, I don't remember much until the descent to the Dixie Mine aid station - which is about 10 miles into the race. It is a decline to be sure but it really didn't seem to be that bad. I remember thinking as I was running back up it - "Is this the worse part of the course?" Certainly if it was, the remainder of the course had to be easier.

Beyond the Dixie Mine aid station, the time seemed to pass by pretty quickly. The terrain was either flat or slightly downhill (SWEET!) but there were no real climbs to speak of. Between miles 11 and 21, I had found a groove and was keeping a reasonable pace somewhere between 10-11 minute miles.

Mile 22: Wall #1 - The first real signs of pain had arrived. I stopped several times to stretch and loosen up the legs but things were definitely starting to hurt. My nutrition was great and the feet felt good but my quads were aching something horrible.

Mile 26: Wall #2 - The course takes you through the Start/Finish line before heading out for the last 5 miles. I walked up to the aid station here and my legs almost buckled. I was seriously doubting my ability to go out and complete 5 more miles. So I took my time and ate some potatoes, M&M's and a banana, chased it with a few cups of Dew and Coke and resolved to keep it going.

Now at this stage, I'm thinking that I have a shot at PR (personal record). My previous 50K's have been in the neighborhood of 7:58 and 7:43. This was the only thing keeping me going. In my mind, even if I walked the last 5 miles, another 1.5 hours would put me in about 7:30 which would be enough for a PR (eh, a PR is a PR right?!). Of course, walking and succumbing to pain is not how I roll so I sucked it up and ran the flat and downhill stretches during the last 5 miles.

Somewhere in the last 5 miles, I came across this sign.  My  nickname in college was T-Bone.

There was a lot of grimacing during this last stretch. I was doing my best to ignore the pain but dude, the downhill stretches felt like I had knives sticking out of my quads. In most cases, the uphill climbs were actually a welcome relief (did I just say that?!).

Even still, I made it back around and across the finish line - 6 hours and 32 minutes. A new PR (by a lot I was thinking). Comparing this race time to Pass Mountain, I had crushed my previous time by more than an hour! Turns out though, my inaugural 50k race at San Tan Mountain last year would be the bar to beat (6:43).

The not-so-good-news: I did not crush my PR.

The mostly-good-news: I improved massively from Pass Mountain to this race. Different course I know, but the clock doesn't lie.

The all-good-news: I have a new 50k PR. I beat the San Tan time by about 10 minutes.

Yes, I'm already thinking about the next race (Coldwater Rumble, January 21). I mean, look at the profile - how can you NOT be a little concerned about that elevation?!

Don't let fear stand in the way

There is nothing worse than being paralyzed by fear.

Fear of the unknown - Fear of failure - Fear of letting people down.

These are natural feelings to have when faced with a new situation but truly, it is our response to those feelings that helps shape and define us and the outcome. Some folks deal with fear by ignoring it or never acting on it. Others face it and resolve to let it make them a better person.

What I find most interesting is that this can be true both professionally and personally. So many people think/fear that they can't do something and it literally just shuts them down and prevents them from even trying.

I'd like to think that I take a very pragmatic approach to the fears I face. Whether it's in my new role at work or the goals I set as an endurance athlete. There is often risk. There is often failure (in the purest sense of the word). But they're often calculated risks - hiccups you might say, that limit the damage to myself, others and the situation while still allowing a smooth recovery and an opportunity to learn from the mistake.

For me, this week has been about facing fears and knowing when to pick your battles.

Professionally, I had to fight the fight and dive in. I made some mistakes, I learned some new things and yet, I'm still making things happen. I revel in the fact that I learned (several) new things and am a better person/manager because of it.

Athletically, I've chosen not to fight. I knocked out a possible head cold earlier in the week and though I should be putting in some mileage, I've chosen to rest and ignore what the training calendar says. I'd rather be healthy for my race this weekend than sitting at home curled up in a ball on the couch (although the Ironman World Championships does air this weekend).

Fear of failing should never make it OK to give up before you've even tried. Making mistakes is part of life and if you don't allow yourself the opportunity to know your limits, then you'll never know what your capable of.

"Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent."

Pills and Pixi Stix

I could tell on Sunday when I woke up that something wasn't quite right with my throat. I was more tired than usual, had a slight scratch and that 'aloof' feeling in my head and ears that usually signals some sort of illness approaching. It's like those old guys sitting on the porch grabbing their knees..."There's a storm a'comin!"

I went for a run anyway. I figured, if I was getting sick the run really couldn't make it any worse...so what the hell.

Sure enough, I fought back a sore throat yesterday - drinking tea until it was coming from my pores, popping vitamin C tablets and eating Airborne and EmergenC packets like Pixi Stix.

I'm happy to report that I'm feeling better. My throat feels good and the head is not hazy. Which is a good thing because the McDowell Mountain 50K is this weekend. Here's a preview of the upcoming course thanks to Aravaipa Running.

Peeling back the covers

What the heck is going on around here?

The run is actually easier than peeling back those covers at 4 in the morning.