Goodbye to 2013

It's unlikely I'll be wearing any other bibs in the coming months so I figured I'd take the time now and look back on the year. Being an engineering dork though, I always have to comb through the numbers...

	2012	2013
Miles	1,575	1,613 (to date)
# of runs	166	137
Time	275.5	327.5 hrs
Calories	195,636	180,905
Elevation Gain	77,600 ft	141,397 ft

I'm not sure I buy all that data. How do you run more miles over more hours and burn fewer calories? Run backwards? How about that elevation though?! Holy sh$t. Almost double the amount of climbing over last year.

I couldn't be more happy with this year. Yes it was a lot of work and yes, I pushed myself beyond my comfort zone but for the most part, had great success with everything I set my mind to. I have a quick recap of my 100-milers below along with some closing thoughts.

Black Hills 100 (race report)
I love running in South Dakota. This course has sweeping views, a well-defined trail and great aid stations. The perfect weather made for an overall strong showing and multiple course records went down. I know I could have done better at this course but I finished strong in 28:20.

34th OA, 5th AG

Hom 100 (race report)
Born out of love and hope, I created this run to support my good friend Tony and his battle with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease) and it was a resounding success. That 100 miles not only raised over $7,000 but it rallied friends, family, neighbors and strangers to be a part of something special. Even though Tony lost that battle on September 19th, I will continue to honor his memory through the Hom 100 as long as these legs will let me.

26 hours, $7,000 raised for ALS

Leadville Trail 100 (DNF) (race report)
Winning an entry to the 'Race Across the Sky' was never in my plans but thanks to Strava and those friends who nominated me, I got the opportunity to run some legendary trails and become a part of Leadville family. Despite timing out of the race at mile 60, I am proud to say I did my best and had a great experience.

Mogollon Monster 100 (race report)
I can think of no better way to end my year with a home-grown race right here in my own back yard. A true spectacle of mother nature, this course showcases everything that is rugged and beautiful here in Arizona. Given it was just added as a qualifier for Hardrock should clue you in on how challenging this course really is. One of my most memorable finishes after 33.5 hours.

14th OA, 6th AG

Zane Grey (DNS)
Who would have known that shingles in adults under/near the age of 40 is actually pretty common? That's what it took to bring me down and end my race day before it even began. I had a blast though helping crew for the Phoenix boys. After doing the Mogollon Monster though, I'm not sure I want to go back for this :)

San Tan Scramble 50k (race report)
Being my home course, I was clearly stoked for this race. This was also the first year of the new course that incorporated the Dynamite Trail making for a much improved course that mentally allowed you to conquer Goldmine 3 times, rather than 6. The heat (for this time of year) definitely caught me by surprise. I battled some cramping over the last couple miles to come in with a 50k PR of 6:06.

18th OA, 5th AG

Adrenaline Night Run 65k (race report)
I will never forget the pity party I had for myself during this run. I was mad, pissed off and wanted to quit so badly. I would feel good and then feel like crap. I learned a few things about myself that night despite the warm weather and lack of enthusiasm. It solidified my mental toughness and made me realize that I'm stronger than I think I am. 8:52 later, I was more than happy to cross that finish line.

11th OA, 2nd AG

Mesquite Canyon 50 (race report)
I was not feeling great this day (due to allergies) but decided to toe the line anyway. I was literally in my car with my bib considering handing it back to Jamil...that's how crappy I felt. I had barely made it 17 miles when my vision blurred, I lost my balance and just felt crushed. It was yet another lesson in pushing through the mental barriers and sticking with it. I would finish just under 12 hours - 11:51, a 50-mile PR for me.

14th OA, 5th AG

No Regrets?
By any measure, 2013 was an epic year for me. Numerous ultras between 26.2 and 50 miles along with four 100-mile runs...I can barely believe it myself now that the season is done but there you have it - a new bar has been set and I feel good about my accomplishments. I'm thankful for my friends who have supported and encouraged me in every way along with new friends who continue to inspire me.

I want to particularly thank Jon Nelson for his support this year. He crewed and/or paced me in every single 100-mile race this year and I'm eternally grateful for his support. He is even more meticulous than I am (which has saved my ass more than once!) and a good friend (I adore his family too!)

If there is one regret I have it is the amount of time I've asked my family to give up for me to accomplish these things. My kids don't quite get it - they just know daddy's out running again. My wife however, has set her own endurance record by spending the most weekends ever as a single mom. I say that with a hint of sarcasm but it's the unfortunate truth.

Family matters most

So here's to enjoying some down time and letting my body rest. I'm looking forward to having a few beers with friends at the park or even staying up 'late' to watch SNL with my wife. No training schedule means I can revel in those few extra hours of sleep on Saturday morning :)

Thanks for reading and for following my adventures this year.

Race report: Black Hills 100

RD's Ryan and Chris

For the third year in a row, I made the trek to South Dakota with my family to enjoy the hospitality of Ryan Phillips and Chris Stores, race directors for the Black Hills 100. Compared to the 100k last year, I've been able to apply my growing experience as a trail runner to the increasingly difficult race distances that take place on the Centennial Trail, starting in Sturgis, SD. I toed the line for the 100-mile race this weekend knowing full well what lay ahead – the climbing (16,000+ ft), variable trail and creek crossings would make for an interesting race through the Black Hills.

Miles 0-50

Just over 300 souls departed Woodle Field the morning of June 29th in search of their race goals. It’s very easy to get swept up in the pace of the 50 milers or 100k runners who often take advantage of the flat sidewalk prior to reaching the single-track trailhead at Fort Meade. I made sure to start in the hind-end of the pack to ensure I kept a slower pace early on.

Cruisin' the 89

The first 17 miles showcase all the attributes of the Centennial Trail you grow to love and hate over the course of your 100-mile journey:

1. Smooth single track intermixed with random blocks of limestone that are partially hidden by the prairie grasses and perfect for stubbing your toes
2. Short climbs over smooth sandy slopes that vary in grade between 5%-20%
3. Equally brutal downhill runs completely covered with jagged limestone shards and boulders

Yes, there is some nice pine-covered trails scattered throughout but expecting this a majority of the time will just leave you disappointed. You can expect sweeping views of the Black Hills and the surrounding area but all that towering beauty is only a preview of what many call a “relentless” assault of elevation change.

The biggest challenge for me was dealing with wet feet after going 2-for-3 in crossing Elk Creek which was flowing nicely in several places. Admittedly, the cool water was a great relief for the low-80 degree temperatures and humidity but it makes for sloppy feet and one more reason I had to stop to change my socks at the Elk Creek aid station.

The day was going well as I passed through aid station after aid station…as always, the volunteers were great at filing packs and being very attentive to the needs of all the runners. At each drop bag location (Elk Creek, Dalton Lake and Silver City), I had barely gotten into the aid station and a volunteer would come walking over with my drop bag and a chair. This made it super-easy to coordinate shoe/sock changes, gear swaps and general logistics. It was equally as great when the volunteers would say, “Just leave it” (e.g., shoes, gear, etc) and somehow everything magically found its way back into my drop bags.

Elevation profile and aid station locations (click for larger view)

Approaching the turn-around in Silver City, the temperatures began to fall as the sun fell behind the pine tree-covered hills. The proximity to Pactola Lake also creates an additional layer of chilliness that was clearly evident as I sat down to take stock in my drop bag and pick up my friend and pacer, Aaron. Despite his jovial mood, I was slowly getting pissed off as I discovered more and more things I had forgotten to put in my drop bag…Garmin charger, gloves, extra socks and extra batteries just to name a few. I was coaching Aaron through a few things that I needed and he responded awesomely being his first time crewing or pacing. We left Silver City about 7 pm and no sooner than we starting our brutal climb out of the valley would I realize that my jacket and my arm warmers were still back in Silver City.

Miles 51-100

13 miles and forever later, Aaron and I would reach the Nemo aid station. Word to the wise for this course…LED headlamps with wide beams are useless at night because much of the trail is sandy, uniformly colored and shows no undulations making it almost impossible to run safely. You really need a hand-held torch or focused white-light that is bright enough to show all the variations in the trail. Because of my poor headlamp choice, we walked much of the Silver City to Pilot Knob trail and gingerly ran into the town of Nemo around midnight (5 hours to cover 13 miles!).

Aaron and I taking a break in Nemo

As I sat in the chair waiting for my bottles and pack to get filled, I fired off a text message to my wife letting her know where I was (Nemo is one of the few places with AT&T coverage). The chill in the air was just enough to ensure you didn't squat too long without a purpose. After a quick picture with Aaron and a pep-talk from ToddG, I was leaving Nemo and heading back to Dalton Lake to hopefully secure some warmer clothes. There was almost an incident with a skunk along the side of the road but thankfully he was more concerned about dodging a pickup than he was about me!

I could tell Dalton Lake was closing in because I could see my breath underneath the glow of my headlamp. I was looking forward to some warmer clothes and changing my shoes (again).

Oh, look. I didn't put any warm clothes in my Dalton Lake drop bag because they’re back in Silver City…

Thankfully, ToddG was kind enough to literally give me the shirt off his back as I was leaving Dalton Lake. It proved to be just the thing to get me through the next 12-13 miles where I would meet my next pacer (Philip) at Elk Creek.

Dawn was breaking as I pulled into the Elk Creek aid station. There was another guy sitting in a chair wrapped in a North Face jacket struggling with the manual dexterity required to open a packet of gel. It was clearly chilly but as we exchanged some chit-chat, he admitted to walking a majority of the 13 miles from Nemo and just couldn't keep his core temperature up.

“Have you seen a guy in a red bandana?” I asked the volunteers. “I should have a pacer meeting me” I elaborated. Nothing but shrugs. I had estimated being into Elk Creek around 3 am (it was now 5 am) and it seemed that Philip had either gone home or never shown up. Several of the ladies walked around looking in cars but couldn't find anyone fitting the description of him (whom I’d never met).

After gobbling up some chicken noodle soup (liquid gold!) and mixing my bottles with more Tailwind, I was resolved to continue on even if I didn't have a pacer so I put my head down and charged ahead trying to make sure I could cover the last 17 miles before the cut-off.

My legs felt pretty good but my feet were trashed. I could feel several large blisters on my mid-soles and a few more wrapping themselves around my pinky toes but you reach a point where it just doesn't matter any longer. You can’t stop them from being blisters. All you can do it live with it, adjust and keep moving forward. So I did.

In past races here at the Black Hills 100, I have loathed the seemingly infinite downhill stretch of fist-sized limestone blocks and shards (8-10% grade) that lead you into the Bulldog aid station. Not only are your quads screaming but your feet are ground up and throbbing. This year however, my experience on tough Arizona trails seemed to help me make short work of this stretch. Before long I was hanging out at the Bulldog aid station chatting with a very nice lady (the aid station fairy) about Arizona and how many more miles I had left. She also knew the exact right thing to say to me as I slouched back into the comfy chair drinking my cold soda.

Philip, the red bandana and I

“When I come over to take your cup, I’m kicking you out of my aid station.”

“Deal”, I told her. Sure enough, she physically pulled me up out of the chair and gave me a pretend kick in the ass.

About 2 miles after leaving the Bulldog aid station, I spotted a runner coming towards me…with a red bandana. Not shortly after I left Elk Creek did Philip check with the volunteers only to find out that I had come and gone. So he drove to the Alkali aid station and ran into the trail to find me. We laughed about the mix-up but I felt bad that he had waited the whole time and ended up having to do more work than a pacer really should. None-the-less, we navigated the rest of the distance, popped out from under the freeway and made our way into the Alkali aid station at about 9 am.

I literally ran through this aid station still fearing it might take me almost 2-3 hours to cover the remaining 5.7 miles to the finish line. There is a brutal climb that meets you head-on right after leaving Alkali…and never seems to end. I was swearing. I was cursing. Yes, I’d climbed it before, but not with 94 miles on my legs.

Finish line

There is nothing nice about these last 6 miles. While there are some rolling hills, a majority of it is downhill along those same limestone-paved trails you went up 27 hours ago. My quads were mad at me but I was resolved and determined to be done. Philip was great at recognizing that I was zoned in and not in the mood for chatting. If the trail was going up, we walked. If the trail was going down (or flat) we were running.

Before long, the welcome sight of Fort Meade came into view and I crossed over onto the sidewalk for the final mile. Like the past two races here at the Black Hills 100, I could feel every tread on the bottom of my shoes as my feet pounded the sidewalk during those last 5,280 feet to the finish line.

I was shocked to come through the line at 10:20 am – a full hour and 40 minutes sooner than my 30 hour goal time. A tent full of finishers were sitting there at the finish line cheering me on and handing out those supportive pats on the back for securing my well-earned Black Hills 100 buckle.

Where was my family though? Because I got done sooner than expected, they showed up about 3 minutes after I came through the line (the irony is that in previous years, they've had to wait as long as 3 hours because of my poor pace estimation skills!)

Phoenix guys - Jon (L), Matt (R) and I

Women's 50-mile course record holder Allison (center)

Birthday cake and beer!

I’m very happy with my overall performance. Tailwind continues to be my nutrition of choice and kept me fueled for the entire race. It also gives me some confidence heading into Leadville – well, at least for the climbing anyway :) According to the results, I was 34th overall (out of 64 finishers) and the 5th male in the 40-49 age group. Wahoo!

Buckle time!

Race Across the Sky

I'm a nervous wreck.

Not only am I running the Black Hills 100 this weekend but I was just notified that I won something.

But not just anything.

I won a slot to one of the most prestigious trail races in the world.

Leadville 100.

It's one of those moments where you pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. Despite all my fears and misgivings though, I did not hesitate to jump on the opportunity.

Me: "I won an entry to the Leadville 100"

Wife: "Where is it?"

Me: "Colorado"

Wife: "So are you asking me for permission to go?"

Me: "Sort of, but not really. I pretty much already decided."

Wife: "(eye-roll + sigh) Just don't fall off the mountain..."

I then explained to her that if there were ever a list of the most awesome-tastic runs in the world, this one would be on it. The fact that I won this via Strava and the nominations of my friends and colleagues makes it even more special. I'm humbled for sure but karma rocks sometimes!

But adding this race to my year changes it's complexion quite a bit. Now, instead of 3 100-mile races this year I now have 4...and not just chump-change races. Just look at that line-up...

June 29

August 17

September 28

I'm already asking my knees for forgiveness.

Rather than freak out completely though, I've resolved to take these races one at a time and leverage the experience for the next one. I've learned a lot about my mental fortitude recently but just hope my body can keep up with the insane amount of climbing these races require.

Either way, I'm stoked...

Leave me alone, I'm tapering

When people learn that I run ultra-distances, one of the first things they say is, "Isn't that hard on your body"? I typically make silly face, laugh it off and quickly retort something about how good sitting on the couch is for you...

The irony is that when running consistently and putting on 70-90 miles a week, I stay healthier than when the miles drop in preparation for a race. The illustrious taper is never quite as glamorous or beneficial as it's made out to be. Bones settle, muscles relax and the aches settle in...

For example, over the last week a small yet noticeable pain has been brewing on the upper part of my right tibia. It feels like a bruise at the top of the tibia right before the kneecap. The strangest thing is that it hurts less when putting pressure on it but if I'm lifting my leg to get dressed or shifting my weight, it hurts the most. At first, I thought I had just slept on my side funny and tweaked my knee.

I ran this morning and it felt fine. I guess only time will tell. It's certainly not going to stop me from starting the Black Hills 100 next Saturday, that's for sure!

Pity, party of one (or Adrenaline 65k race report)

The idea of running 40 miles only 2 weeks after running the Hom100 was always a questionable endeavor, but I knew that it would likely be the last time I got to have this much quality time on my feet before the Black Hills 100 on June 29. If nothing else, the heat would be good for me :)

As with most races, adrenaline (no pun intended) and excitement often gets you fired up at the start of the race. Because the first 4 miles of the course is pretty smooth, it makes for some good single-track running...

I went out pretty fast on the first loop and was probably expending more energy just trying to stay hydrated and cool - which wasn't easy. I went through 1.5 L of (tepid) water in the 4 miles prior to the first aid station! Though I had taken headlamp as well, I somehow got this crazy idea that I could finish the first loop by the time it got dark...why?! I have no idea. After stumbling on one of the many rocky section on the back half of the course, it didn't take much convincing to turn on my light.

First lap done (way too fast I might add)

Starting the second lap was not an issue. I felt really good and it didn't take much convincing to keep me going. I distinctly remember starting off the second loop without my headlamp on just absorbing the night and the stars. I also distinctly remember holding my arms out to the side - flying through the night - saying, "I love running at night".

Oh, how my tuned had changed by mile 15.

Mental abyss #1

Reduced to a slow walk with my head hung low, I had clearly demanded too much of myself in the oppressive heat. Though I was hydrating fine (fine = I peed), I had already fallen into a deep mental abyss. I walked a good portion of mile 16 trying to come up with a rational excuse to drop out when I reached the finish line.

"That cactus looked at me funny"

"I don't like the color of this dirt"

"My bib number isn't pinned on straight"

Seriously. Anything to make it end...

Pity party for one

The look on my face above says it all. Dejected. Low. Pissed off. Not happy with how I was feeling, I shuffled over to my drop bag and sat on my cooler for about 15 minutes still contemplating why (if) I should keep going. Staring at the clock though, I began to get outraged with the idea that the clock was still ticking and physically I felt fine, yet was unable to make a decision one way or the other.

After weighing my options for a while (and confirming my race bib was on straight), I decided that I would wander over to the aid station to at least get some fresh water and cold soda. One of the great things about volunteers (at Aravaipa events) is that they're not just anyone off the street...these are runners who know what you're going through. After a bit of self-loathing, empathy and chit-chat, I was feeling a little better mentally and decided to fill up my bottles with Tailwind again. I set out into the night for my third loop.

Night miles are long(er) miles but I was constantly reminding myself to just take the course 4 miles at a time - aid station to aid station. Do the time and the miles would follow.

After leaving the remote aid station, I started getting pissed off at my relative clumsiness while trying to navigate some of the rocky sections of the trail. Twisting ankles, sharp rocks on already blistered areas and stubbed toes were hurdling me into another dark place as midnight started to approach.

I made it back to the start/finish line shortly after midnight and again, was not in the mood to discuss anything except ending my misery and writing it off as a sub-40-mile training run. I parked my sweaty ass on the cooler again and tried once more to persuade myself that I would feel better driving home while stewing in my own wretched body odor, sweat and caked-on dirt.

And yet again, for every reason I tried to conjure up to end the madness, I couldn't bring myself to give into the course or my own lack of confidence. It was a rare instance in which my body was the one forcing my mind to get its shit together. So I kept going.

Loop 4 proved to be better. Perhaps it was the relative temperatures dropping that were made everything less labored or that I had my don't-give-a-shit-blinders securely on...either way, I ran through the night. Up, down and everything in between. Aside from my feet, I felt physically strong.

This time, there was no internal monologue or discussion as I approached the start/finish line to end loop 4 and begin the last 8 miles. I did sit down to rest my feet and stretch a bit. Jay Danek stopped over to see how I was doing and to help me refill my pack...he relayed how his night went and we had some laughs catching up. It was a good comedic interlude and definitely helped lift my spirits.

Nothing spectacular about the last 8 miles other than I just ran. I ran what felt like 8-minutes miles the entire way (they were actually more like 11-12 minute miles!) The only thing motivating me was the idea of coming in under 9 hours. Which I did...

8 hours and 52 minutes. Good enough to finish 11th out of 20 finishers...

I'm glad I stuck with it. I've learned quite a bit about my mental fortitude lately and it will go a long way in helping me get through the Black Hills 100 here in a couple weeks.

At least in South Dakota, there won't be any cacti taunting me...

Mr. T's Wild Ride

It doesn't seem like two weeks have passed since I ran 100 miles to raise money for my friend Tony and the ALS Association of Arizona (see the Hom100 website). I don't have an exact total on the amount we raised but it's in the neighborhood of $6,500. Awesomeness, for sure.

I was running out at the San Tan park the other morning and a lady passed me by and said, "Hey great job on that 100 miles for your friend!" I swelled with pride knowing that the right message was out there and just one more person was educated about the devastation of ALS.

It's safe to say that I'm recovered. I'm pretty sure it was the time I spent by the pool and all the beer I consumed over the long weekend that sped the 'healing' process :) I felt fine over the course of the following week but it was my feet that were really the issue. Turns out I had several blisters in strange places that have taken a while to fully crustify.

My legs have felt really strong and my confidence is high but over the next 2 weeks is when it really starts to get interesting...

I'll be running the Adrenaline 65k on Saturday and continuing to build up to at least 80-90 mile weeks until we leave for South Dakota on June 21. The triple-digit heat here in AZ is making it tough to get those morning runs done. Hydration and motivation are keys to staying strong in this heat.

I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna be tough.

The Black Hills 100 is no walk in the park. 16,000+ of climbing is going to leave my quads gelatinous and my hamstrings rubber...and the weather. Well, who knows. It's always a toss up on whether it's going to be blistering hot or down-right chilly. The past several years have been hot (which favors me) but I'm not counting on any advantages for this distance.

Black Hills 100 elevation profile

I have ruled out any possibility of a sub-24 on this course. Hell, the previous winners come in at about 20 hours and I know I'm clearly off that pace by 30-40%.

Finishing under 30 hours will be just fine.

Finishing, will be just fine :)

BH100 Race Report

Given my relative newness to ultra-running, I have not yet experienced many of the premier courses in the US. But if there is a bar to hold them to, it is the Centennial Trail (ole’ 89) of the Black Hills 100. I have never enjoyed a course more than I did this weekend while running the 100k up in Sturgis, SD.

The scenery varies from ponderosa pine and limestone outcrops to sprawling views of Bear Butte and the Badlands. One minute you’re running on pine needles the next you’re running through jungle (like) foliage. The elevation will sneak up on you as well…going up may not be so bad, but the down can be quad-busting inclines on sharp nasty fist-sized chunks of limestone.

Start to Elk Creek (Mile 17)

The early part of this course is very runnable. It’s a mix of pavement (1.2 miles) and single-track up into the Black Hills. As I made my gradual ascent you could already feel the heat beginning to bear down (says the guy from Arizona). Strategically, I started with one hand-held bottle knowing that the cooler temperatures would last at least until my first drop bag at Elk Creek. There were a couple times I questioned that choice but this actually worked out pretty well.

Through mile 17, the only problem I had was just picking up my damn feet. It’s like I forgot how to run! I stubbed my left foot about 10 times and very ungracefully saved myself from falling on my face more than once.

While at the Elk Creek aid station, I munched on some potatoes (with salt), pounded a couple shots of ice-cold Coke, grabbed some gels from my drop bag and mixed up some Vitargo for my second hand-held bottle.

Elevation profile for the Black Hills 100

Elk Creek to Dalton Lake (Mile 29)

The weather continued to get hotter as mid-day approached. Much of this mileage is under the cover of pine trees and not terribly exposed but the air was thick and the radiant heat felt like an early morning run back home in Arizona. Fortunately, I was taking full bottles of water and ice through the aid stations while keeping my belly happy.

Two odd things happened through mile 29 that I won’t easily forget – one, I ran into an old college friend who just happened to be running the trail at the same time. We chatted, said our hellos and went on our way. Second, a very big and determined military man (who was running the 50-mile) had hit the turn around and was repeating over and over, “Birthday cake and beer. Birthday cake and beer.” Evidently, it was his birthday and he wanted beer. Whatever keeps you going.

Me, I was personally looking forward to reaching Dalton Lake to pick up my Camelbak out of my drop bag. I’m glad this worked out because I don’t think I could have carried that extra weight for the first half of the race.

I was still doing well on caloric intake – I again mixed up some Vitargo, munched on potatoes, had a jelly sandwich and ice cold water in my Camelbak. Despite the 100k turn-around being just two miles past this aid stations, multiple folks commented that it felt like an eternity…runners were cramping left-and-right. I personally was doing well. Hydrated and feeling strong, I was still running more than I was walking as I made my way back through the Dalton aid station.

Dalton (through Elk Creek) to Bulldog (Mile 51)

By far, this was the most painful part of my journey as I navigated much of the previous elevation I had climbed early in the day. At this point, my feet were not fresh (I had not changed my socks all day), my gluts were tight and my quads were on fire. Yet, despite the pain, it hurt less to run…so I kept running.

It was also apparent that despite multiple attempts to lather up with sunblock that my shoulders and neck were charred from the sun. Combine that with the additional 7 pounds from a Camelbak full of ice and water, my neck and shoulders were aching quite a bit. I did drop one bottle at Elk Creek to help lighten things up.

Unfortunately, I had gotten ahead of myself mentally. I pictured myself coming out of the woods to the final aid station (Alkali). Needless to say, I was quite disappointed when that didn’t happen. Slightly dejected, I almost gave in to The Chair. I resisted that urge and stayed on my feet. I downed a turkey sandwich, more potatoes, salt, Endurolytes and stocked up on a few more Rice Krispy Treats (my new trail running super-food!). “Ten more miles”, they said. If the previous six had not felt like an eternity, I would have been a bit more enthusiastic about the remaining distance…

Leaving the Bulldog aid station, I was tentatively moving forward to ensure I didn’t do something stupid (like trip and fall on my face). The toughest mental challenge for me at this stage was being able to see and hear the highway prior to reaching the Alkali aid station. You know you’re close but getting past the highway seemed to take forever.

Alkali to Finish

By the time I reached this station, the head lamp was on and it felt like I was spending more time looking for the route markers and critters than the trail in front of me. This was my first time running trail at night and I was erring on the side of being overly-cautious. There was a part of the trail/road that descended into Sturgis that was nothing but sand – no surface reflection, no pebbles, no anything to get your depth perception dialed in. Shuffling would have worked fine if it didn’t kick up a cloud of dust in the process. The visual in my head (which made me chuckle) was “this is what Pig-Pen would look like if he were a trail runner”.

This stretch is also a tease given that you can see the street lights and hear the cars but the way the trail winds, you can’t see the sidewalk until you’re about a quarter mile from the trail head. I have never been so happy to see pavement.

I had made a mental deal with myself (having walked the last 4 miles) that once I hit the pavement I would run to the finish. I stayed true to that as I navigated the last mile or so along the bike path. It hurt like hell and I could feel every single tread on the bottom of my shoes but I kept running as I made my way to Woodle Field.

Crossing the line with all the kids

As I entered the track, it felt a little like that scene from Rocky (or Forrest Gump) where one-by-one, the kids and other folks start to run beside you – cheering and yelling for you in those final steps. It was great to cross the finish line with my arms raised high.

Over 10,800’ of climbing in 16 hours and 52 minutes.Here are my Garmin stats through 42 miles.

There is a nice write-up in the Rapid City Journal as well.

The truth about tapering

Any runner preparing for a race will tell you that aside from the actual training itself, tapering requires just as much discipline and restraint. For weeks on weeks you've been getting up early, trying to eat right and constantly pushing your body and mind until one day, you turn the dial down a notch and begin to taper.

Ultra-runners often have such a warped sense of reality when it comes to training and tapering compared to the rest of the world. In my opinion, tapering is a good reminder to never lose perspective.

Some people hate tapering. Other love it (or at least the break that comes with it).

In either case, there are some universal truths to tapering.

What the runner says: "I can't wait to sleep in"
The truth: Since 5 am is considered sleeping in NOWHERE IN THE WORLD, this is bullsh*t.

What a runner says: "I get aches and pains when I taper"
The truth: These are the collective sighs of each joint, muscle and tendon saying, "Thank you". Get a massage and love them back. They will thank you on race day.


What a runner says: "I'm just going to go for a little run"
The truth: Again, bullsh*t. "Little run" is code for a minimum of 15 miles and 4,500' of elevation gain...


What a runner says: "Now I can eat whatever I want"
The truth: Eating a vat of wings will most certainly NOT make you run faster. Save the burger and beers for after the race.

This is likely my last post before the Black Hills 100(k) next weekend. I am both anxious and a little scared. I am confident in my training...just concerned about the elevation gain.

So yes, I plan to enjoy my taper this week - even if I only 'sleep in' until 5 am.

Burning questions

One of the things I don't think a lot of people realize about running "races" is that aside from just the training, running and sweating there is also quite a bit of planning and strategy. Not only do you have to plan for what you think will happen, but also for what might happen. Blisters, weather and injury are just a few...

For example, here are some of the things I'm still contemplating for the Black Hills 100(k):

1. Should I run with my Camelbak or hand-held water bottles?
2. How far are the aid stations from each other?
3. How am I going to carry some of my nutrition (gels, etc)?
4. What is my nutrition strategy going to be?
5. What will I put in my drop bag?
6. What's the weather supposed to be like?
7. What will I wear?

These just scratch the surface. You truly have to be prepared for anything in the Black Hills - it can be very cool in the morning and blistering hot in the afternoon. In the end, you have to trust that you've made the right decisions...one minor flaw in your race strategy and/or preparations can have a very meaningful impact on your race day. The day is long enough without having to overcome artificial or mental barriers caused by your own stupidity.

Then there's the other side of the coin - everyone always asks, "What do you think about while you're running?"  The answer(s) may surprise or bore you. Here is a run-down of some of the things that go through my mind:

• Lyrics to some of my favorite/inspirational songs
• Not falling
• People who face true adversity/sickness and continue to persevere
• What I'm going to eat after the race
• Taking an ice bath
• What my kids are doing
• "Really!? I paid to do this?"
• Seriously, don't fall

At the end of the day, it's the challenge and sense of accomplishment that I really get a charge from. So come hell or high water, I'll be prepared and all my questions will hopefully be answered by June 23rd.

Does a body good

I was telling my wife last night that it's still hard for me to imagine putting in more mileage than what I'm doing today. I'm not even at the peak of my training and yet, I'm just plain tired.

T.I.D.E. (as Etta would say).

I'm on track for about 65 miles this week but honestly, it feels like a billion. I have to keep reminding myself that I have no basis for comparison...I've never run this much in my life. I had a general idea that it would be hard, but running for 5-7 days in a row is plenty for me. I know what my training schedule says, but it can suck it. I know when to push and when to rest.

Today, I'm resting. And i don't feel bad about it at all.

I didn't do squat because of work last week so the 'jump' in mileage is somewhat artificial. I've got 20 planned on the trail tomorrow morning. My hope is to get that done in about 3.5-4 hours.

The Black Hills 100(k) isn't that far off and I really need to feel better about tackling that distance in the next 5 weeks. I feel feel much better prepared over last year but I am afraid of getting punished by all the elevation change in South Dakota...10,831' of gain to be exact. That is a lot of ouch time.

Thanks for reading.

When motivation fails you

For some reason, I've had a motivation FAIL this week. Last Saturday, I had an awesome long run (pretty sure I PR'ed that 16 miles) and then followed that up with a great trail run with my buddy Andy (who was on his mountain bike).

Thank goodness Monday was a rest day - I needed it. (Although, I did ride my bike)

I'm feeling very healthy and strong but Tuesday seemed to hit me like a lead pipe. Tired and groggy...which is just like I felt when I was neck deep in my allergy treatments. I think that tiny exposure I've had resulted in being much more sensitive to the seasonal Arizona allergens. It's left me slightly unmotivated and a little more likely to sleeping in .

Something is blooming this week and my body doesn't like it.

I'll muscle through it. It's a relatively light week in terms of mileage. I'm still debating whether to go nutso on the mileage this weekend or take the chance that I'll get it done next weekend (I'll be travelling *all* next week and get back Friday evening). It's somewhat unlikely that after a week of being on the east coast, working with customers 14-hours a day, that I'm going to want to come home, get up at the crack of dawn to go run 21 miles on Saturday.

I already feel the odds stacking against me :)

It's hard to believe that the Black Hills 100(K) is just about a month away. Starting this weekend, my long runs are transitioning over to trail rather than road. It will take more time but I'm looking forward to being on the trails as well as this race - I feel much more prepared than I was last year. The only difference is the distance (it's just 12 more miles right!?)

Envelope = pushed

Most endurance athletes will tell you that there is something self-sustaining and gratifying about reaching a goal that you've never achieved before. Often times the fruits of your labor are not really evident the next day...or even the next week for that matter. Over time the small successes allow you to sit back and revel in the moment when something really exciting happens.

(Dude, what are you talking about?)

Last week I broke 50 miles. Yes, running.

I ran 52.4 miles from Monday to Sunday (3 days of business travel mixed in there too).

Even during my peak weeks prior to last years Black Hills 100 (50 mile) race, only once did I exceed 50 miles in a week. And then I proceeded to get sick.

I feel like I'm in the best shape of my life...and we're still nearly 4 months away from the Leanhorse 100!

I'm not only running faster (generally) but I'm also doing more miles and recovering well enough to have the stamina for back-to-back runs throughout the week.

I hope your run(s) this weekend were great. Thanks for checking in.

Decisions, decisions

Hard to believe it's only been about 3 weeks since the inaugural running of the Black Hills 100 (50-mile race for me). For those of you who did not check the results, I came in 11th out of 13 in my age group and 24th out of 33 runners overall. I've always maintained that the results are not what matter - only that I finish...and that's exactly what I did.

Over the last couple weeks, I've been somewhat underwhelmed with the notion of running - our schedule has been super-busy these last couple weeks visiting with friends at the Mall of America, driving to North Dakota to see my family and generally just keeping up with the kids. To be honest, I just haven't been able to find the time.

Over the weekend however, I read Run! by Dean Karnazes. There is something about that dude that just lights a fire inside me. I'd like to think there is a mini-Karno inside of me always looking for that next wild and crazy adventure. While I love the notion of being that nutso guy who attempts endurance events that other people just shake their heads at and call 'crazy', I also love the sense of accomplishment that comes with these unique adventures.

For a while now, I've been thinking that the Portland Marathon was in my future - I really enjoyed the venue and energy back in 2007 (my first marathon ever!). That was until I saw the price of it. $145 bucks for 26.2 miles (that's $5.53 a mile). Yikes. Why exactly was I running this event? Oh yeah, Boston qualifying. The reality of training through the Arizona summer probably makes the chances of that pretty slim. Verdict - undecided.

There is this nagging desire to take on another 50-miler in August. The Lean Horse 100 in Hot Springs, SD is calling out to me...with only 2,000' of elevation gain and a super-simple flat run on the Mickelson Trail, I'm extra-tempted to see how well I can do with more of the pure distance rather than the distance AND  9,000'+ of elevation gain from the Black Hills 100. Verdict - undecided.

Decided. I've already signed up for the PF Chang Marathon in January of 2012 (@ $70, how could you not sign up for a that?!?).

As you can see, there isn't much on the horizon right now but that could change very easily. Clearly, I have some decisions to make.

In the meantime, maybe I'll write Dean Karnazes and tell him his book would be better if he included $150 in the back to help you register for a marathon :)

3.1 miles per hour

The Black Hills 100 is tomorrow (me, I'm "just" doing 50 miles - those other folks are the real crazies!). I can honestly say it's going to be hard. Not just, woke-up-early-and-it's-hard-to-find-some-coffee-hard, but reaching down into the depths of your soul hard. Weather is projected to by mid-70's with a slight chance of thunderstorms just to make things interesting. I'm betting that running through the shade of the Black Hills is going to be absolutely beautiful.

As the fates would have it though, I've spent the last 2 weeks fighting a double ear and sinus infection. That took it's toll and literally forced the taper...ahem, run stoppage for about 10 days. Not exactly what I had in mind for a taper but I think it was for the best. The feet feel good and though I'm probably at 90% strength, I'm just going to go a give it my all.

Needless to say I've been resting, going to bed early and sleeping in a bit more than normal. Truth-be-told, getting up at 4 am tomorrow to head to the race is going to be a challenge (I almost said "hard", but that would be silly given my definition above).

50 miles. Most people don't even like driving 50 miles.

The time limit is 16 hours. That means I have to go at least 3.1 miles per hour to make the cut-off.

No problem.

Summer is coming

After a brief hiatus last week due to an ear infection and business travel to Chi-town, I'm back on the wagon and logging some good mileage this week. I have been mapping out my schedule over the next couple months and am genuinely starting to worry that I won't have the time to ramp up to the mileage I need to run the 50 mile race at the Black Hills 100.

If the course were flat I would design a training plan where my longest run was about 35-40 miles and call it good. The problem with that however is that the 50 mile race in June has over 9,000 feet in elevation gain. This is not trivial. I still have a strong recollection of what 4,300 feet of elevation gain felt like during the San Tan Scramble 50 km run last February...it wasn't that fun. Here is the profile of the 50 mile run in June.

Turn-around point at mile 25

This is going to take some serious miles and hill training. Oh, wait...Arizona is flat. This could be a problem. The key is making sure my long runs incorporate the trail running and hill work all at the same time. While I would love to speculate at my projected time for 50 miles, my goal is only to finish (under the 16-hour time limit of course).

One of the other challenges is going to be beating the heat of Arizona leading up to the race. Morning runs right now are perfect. Shorts and a t-shirt are all that is required to ensure a comfortable and cool run in the 60-degree mornings. You can feel it though...summer is knocking on the door and the cool morning temps are not going to stick around for long.

Have a good one and thanks for reading!

Real Ironmen don't walk, do they?

Not a whole lot going on in the training world these days - other than, well, more training. I've been very pleased with the last couple weeks and I can feel the incremental gains coming back in both the endurance and mental category. More than anything, consistency has been good. This means I'm doing more running more often and doing what I need to recover correctly.

I ran a report from Garmin to see what my miles were for the last couple months. I just wanted to see where I was at and where I was going...

February = 90 miles (running), 11,380 calories
March = 61 miles (running), 7,900 calories

The last couple weeks has been an interesting mental shift for me as I make this transition from Ironman/marathon running-as-fast-as-you-can-for-as-long-as-you-can to running-a-slower-pace-knowing-you'll-be-running-for-8-or-9-hours-straight trying to finish a 50-mile run with 9,100 feet of elevation gain.

Most everything I've read about endurance pacing preaches the 5:1 ratio - 5 minutes of running and 1 minute of walking. Certainly this is not the rule but for beginners and those races that have massive elevation gains, this is by far one of the most suggested shifts in training.

Admittedly, this is hard for me to succumb to walking during a run (WTH!?! The guy with the Ironman tattoo is walking?!). The idea of slowing down and being passed by other age-groupers young and old can be infuriating and frustrating. Not to mention a chink in the 'pride armor'.

I'm not a jerk about these things nor do I care that other people have different race plans than me. I'm going to run my race no matter who passes me. So pride aside I've used a couple of training runs of 8-10 miles to test this idea of a brief brisk 1-minute walk. It really does break things up enough to give your legs and feet a break and lower your heart rate, but also mentally it's a great relief to walk a little bit. Heaven knows that with 9,100 feet of elevation gain during the Black Hills 100, there are bound to be some ascents and descents that are going to require a snail's pace walk (or crawl?!).

Do real Ironmen walk? This one does.

Product review: Inov-8 Roclite 319

We're week 2 into training for the Black Hills 100 (trail) run coming up in July. I made a point to do some research on the best (recommended) trail shoes and found that Runner's World recently covered a review of the latest trail running shoes in their Spring issue. Interestingly enough, it wasn't the article that resonated with me but the comments of all the other readers. It was clear that Runner's World was missing several brands that of course, required me to dig deeper into this world of outdoor running.

Upon further research, three brands kept popping up in online reviews and outdoor apparel sites (REI, ZombieRunner.com and Amazon.com)...

1. Inov-8
2. Solomon
3. Merrel

I landed on the Roclite 319 by Inov-8. While it's not the prettiest shoe in the world, there are clearly some advantages it has over many of the trail-inspired shoes out there by Brooks, Adidas or Asics. For starters, the quick-lace shoe strings are thin and slick - which means with one quick yank, the shoe is evenly tight all the way up the front. Second, there is a wide band of grey rubbery material that extends from the sole up about 1.25 inches all the way around the shoe. It protects the foot not only from the moisture you might find in shorter grass but also the sharp edges of closely-spaced rocks.

I personally like the extra cushioning the shoe provides as well as the firm sole. While it feels a little wide compared to my road-running shoes, it's understandable a trail shoe needs more surface area to deal with the various terrain our there in the world. The cleats on the bottom also made running through sand somewhat enjoyable.

Running through the SanTan Mountains last weekend I was able to test these out over 7 miles. I definitely felt stable throughout the entire run - both up slope and down. They weren't very heavy and they breathed nicely. I also purchased the Inov-8 Debris Gaiters as well. They worked great and I literally did not have one piece of sand in my shoes.

Thanks for reading.

Where did the mojo go?

For the past several weeks, running has not been the driving force in my daily routine. It's been a chance to take things easy, sleep in and enjoy the spring break holiday with my kids. A month has gone by since Ragnar and I have logged maybe 20 miles total. I don't feel bad about that but I can certainly tell it's had a negative impact on my work/life balance.

I love my job. There are days when the list of things to do is overwhelming and long. I could spend 14 hours a day and not get it all done. Though I love what I do, I've discovered that without running (or a fitness goal of some kind) I fall deeper and deeper into that abyss of all-work-no-play-makes-Trevor-a-dull-boy. I become the Jack Torrence of our house...."Heeeeere's Johnny!!"

Creating a boundary between work and running actually helps me ensure I am more organized, efficient with my time and aggressive with deadlines. For example, I've been stewing on a work issue for the past several days and was not getting anywhere. It was actually p*ssing me off that I couldn't get it figured out. Though I had to force myself to go running early this morning (a small win all by itself), I was able to spend time completely focused on this issue. By the time I had sorted things out in my head, 5 miles were in the bag and I felt great that I had accomplished 2 things at the same time.

So where's this blog heading Trev? Good question.

Just like we do at work, we set goals for the year and then map out a plan to get there. The same holds true for my endurance (fitness) goals. Given that I've been languishing in the solitude of work, I finally pulled the trigger on a race I've been contemplating for a while now.

We'll be in South Dakota most of June (more on that later) and it was the perfect opportunity to revisit not only trail running (which I've fallen in love with) but a distance that I know will challenge and push me to the very limits of my physical and mental capabilities.

Hello Black Hills. Hello 50 mile run with 9,100 feet of elevation gain.

Where did the mojo go? It was just misplaced.

But now it's found.