Western States Training Camp -- May 2008

Saturday morning, May 24, 2008. At first I thought it was just a dream. But the sound grew louder and louder until it hit me like a cold slap of reality as I lay in bed. Raindrops. They first hit their mark above my head one at a time. Then they came with greater frequency. Finally, to a wet, roaring crescendo.

Participating in the "official" Western States training runs is recommended for first time WS runners. You get to experience the trail, understand the challenge in front of you and, weather permitting, taste the heat you’ll encounter race day. Apparently the weather permitting section wasn’t in the cards for us this weekend.

Waiting for our bus

Saturday’s run started with an hour long bus ride along Mosquito Ridge to a drop off point 5 miles from the actual WS trail. From there we ran along a very wet dirt and gravel road lined with pockets of snow. As the runners tread upon soggy trail, the grey skies wept with cold rain and sleet. My Asics Trail GT 2130’s were soaked to my skin in the first 10 minutes, but held on firmly around my feet.

Greetings along the trail

Our first contact with the "official" WS trail was Dusty Corners, an aid station 38 miles into the 100 mile course. From there we dropped into a meandering single track trail under a shadow of dense pine. The rain continued to fall in the dark forest when we reached Last Chance, mile 43.3 of the course and the starting point of the wicked "canyon" section. Under typical race day sun, temperatures of this section push well past 100 degrees. After Last Chance we continued into a 2.5 mile, 2’200 foot decent to Deadwood Canyon followed by the most difficult section of the race, a 1'800 foot climb to Devils Thumb.

Rob and I stopping for water

The Ultra Encounter. As I stood on the side of the trail taking yet another blog picture, I heard my pacer Rob McNair yell to a runner passing. "Hey Tweet, its Rob McNair". I glanced up and saw it was Tim Twietmeyer, 25 time finisher and 5 time winner of Western States 100. The two trail veterans exchanged a few words as I fumbled with my camera. Then, just like that, "Tweet" was off. Rob and I continued down the steep lower section of the canyon.

Just like that....Tweet (white jacket) running down trail

When we came upon the small footbridge at the bottom of Deadwood Canyon, Tweet and his friends were waiting for another runner. Rob grabbed my camera and asked Tweet if he would take a photo with me. Of course as I stood there watching Rob (wearing wet gloves) attempt to take a photo of me with one of the greatest ultra runners of all time, I realized the running gods would have to be in complete alignment. And just as Rob pushed the button, and the blackberry slipped from his soggy hands, it occurred to me that this moment was deemed by the gods to be captured only in my mind, and not to be recorded in the trivial annals of my blog. Then Tweet asked if this was my first WS run, and I said it was. He pointed out the river below us was a good place to douse yourself during the race, before climbing the 1’800 foot Devils Thumb in 100+ degree heat.

Rob and I pushed on, up the relentless Devils Thumb switchbacks, talking with several others as we power walked up and into the dripping clouds. Once we crested this brutal incline and started running again I slipped on some loose mud and ended up nearly head over heals and on my butt. Unhurt, but with an orange like slime dripping from my butt cheek all the way down my leg, I wondered if others wouldn't see this as some other kind of accident. As we came into the aid station I turned to see Twietmeyer running up behind us. Observing the grime dripping from my hip, Tweet asked if had taken a spill. "Yea I took a dive", I said, to which he replied "Rookie!" I had to point out amidst the laughter from the other runners that if I could choose anyone to call me a rookie, it would be Tweet.

"Rookie" running down the trail

When we finally finished the run, we’d run down to El Dorado Creek, up to Michigan Bluff then back to Bath Road and Forest Hill. We’d covered 27.1 miles and we were soaked to the bone. After finding a pitcher of beer in Auburn, we drove back to the home of Earl Towner and his wife Jennifer Mitchell, who graciously put us up for the weekend. That night, Earl, a 10th place finisher of Western States, shared many tactics with me about how I should run the course on race day. Key among them was to start slow! Jennifer, a local poet who has written many poems about Western States and experiences in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, made us all a great home cooked meal. After some good conversation I climbed into bed by 8:30 and was fast asleep.

Sunday morning, May 25th. This next day brought better weather and more ultra encounters. We started from Forest Hill and ran along the side of the Middle Fork of the American River. The trail progressed all the way to Rucky Chucky, where runners normally cross the river and head toward Auburn. This 16 mile section of the trail is beautiful and ideal for running. It’s mostly downhill single track, with a few short uphill sections. Many runners flew down this section, which may or may not be possible on race day with 62 miles under your belt.

Running single track from Forest Hill

Once we reached Rucky Chucky many of us walked down to the river and soaked our feet. It was a nice break before the last three miles up hill we had to do to get back to the buses. On this day there was again no shortage of runners with impressive resumes. Included in the group was Jenn Shelton, (14:57:18 at Rocky Raccoon 100 miler), ultra god Jorge Pacheco, Ashley Nordell, Luis Escobar among many others. For me, this day was a very fun, yet humbling experience.

Walking down to the river

Cooling the feet

Ashley, Luis and Jenn

Overall this Western States training trip was well worth it. Not the ideal race simulation weather I was hoping for, but nonetheless vital experience for this "Rookie". I owe a special thanks to Rob McNair for introducing me to so many other runners and to Earl Towner and his wife Jennifer Mitchell for putting up with Rob and I over the weekend. Thanks guys and we will see you all again in June!

Earl, Jennifer and Me

Jorge, family and friends at the Airport

Into the Heat

Just when I thought I was getting strong from my training for Western States, mother nature sent me a message:

"Tread lightly along this journey, don’t be overconfident, because you are in my hands now". This weekend I heard her message loud and clear.

The Western States 100 mile endurance run takes place on June 28th when temperatures in the Sierra Nevada Mountains can reach 110 degrees. During the race, runners must consume massive amounts of liquids to compensate for the amount of sweat the body excretes to keep its core temperature down. The challenge is to keep your stomach "working" while you push fluids, salt, gels and food into it while your heart continues to pump blood to the muscles and organs. This is complicated because an active stomach must divert precious blood supply away from the working muscles, or else it shuts down. If this happens, well, the game is over. Dehydration, hyponatremia, nausea, vomiting, heat exhaustion, and a host of other complications rear their ugly heads. Many a runner of great promise has been dwarfed by a failure of this simple, yet symbiotic relationship between the heart and stomach.

This weekend marked my first foray into heat training for WS 100. I had no plans, no strategic route to run. I just knew it was going to be hot and I needed to get out and run in the heat. This would allow my body to adapt to conditions it will face come race day. To date most of my runs have been in relatively comfortable conditions with no real mishaps. Something told me this was about to change.

Saturday, May 17, 2008: Seeking the sun at its highest arch, I started my run at 1:30 in the afternoon. It was 95 degrees when I left my house. I started with two 20 ounce water bottles, E-Gels, salt tabs and Cliff blocks. As I ran the first few miles up Buck Gully, I felt sluggish. My energy felt like it was evaporating from my body. I pressed on until I got to the hot, single track trail at Coyote Canyon.

As I entered the trial I noticed several black dots swirling around ahead of me. I continued up the trail until I was surprised by a loud buzzing in my hair. I looked up and I was in the midst of a swarm of bees. I turned around and immediately started running back down the trail while slapping at my head. I couldn't get the little bugger out of my hair! Then, just as I was expecting a sharp sting to the skull, I looked down and the little guy was stinging my arm. As if training for a 100 mile race in a heat wave isn't enough already! Note to self: did I really sign up for this program?

Single Track Trail...Seconds before Bees

I continued on and on a more positive note, found myself the middle of beautiful Bommer Canyon which I hadn't run before. After I climbed out of the canyon I encountered another swarm of bees. This time, while they chased me for several yards, I turned before they established radio contact with my sauteed skin. With no other options I had to cross the 73 toll road to finish my run via the top of El Moro and Spyglass Hill.

73 Toll Road Crossing

I planned on running Sunday with my WS pacer Rob McNair in Chino Hills. "You need to get into some radiant heat before Western" he kept telling me. This is heat that comes at you from all sides, the ground, the sky, the canyon walls. As if getting "cooked" on one side at a time isn't good enough. One must be "baked" on all sides to gain a real appreciation of heat.

So after spending five hours at my daughter's swim meet in 96 degrees of "radiant" heat, I met Rob to follow him out to Carbon Canyon, one of his recommended hottest places to run in Orange County. As we were driving I realized I forgot my shoes. Looking down at my flip flops, I had to make a choice: bag the run in Carbon Canyon, or figure out a plan B. I pulled over to a donut shop and, before Rob could lodge a single complaint, I told him to follow me, because the donut shop keeper informed me there was a Big Five Sporting Goods store two blocks away. I found my ASICS Gel Strive II's on sale for $49.95 in less than two minutes and we were out the door.

Asics Gel Strive II, $49.99 on Sale

Carbon Canyon is nestled in Chino Hills and is an ideal place to run in sweltering heat. There is no shade and not a whole lot of breeze. We started the run with two bottles of water each. Since it was 12 miles to the next water stop, we had to conserve as much as we could.

Once we made it to the ranger station to refill, I was beginning to realize what it was like to be hot and thirsty. A good sign that my body was being tested. We doused ourselves to bring our core body temp down as much as possible. When we finally made it back to our cars, the temperature reading was 104 degrees. Total mileage for the weekend: just under 36 miles. All in all, two solid training runs in conditions similar to the grand trail coming June 28th.

Why Music Matters To a Runner

There is something about music to a runner. At least this runner. I can run without music, and often do. I enjoy the natural sounds in the space around me. Yet a song, be it piercing or rhythmic, mystic or haunting, can pull my energy back from the arms of fatigue. The right song, at the right moment, can, even if only for a moment, overwhelm my exhaustion with euphoria. Bring a shiver to my soiled skin. Even relax my tense muscles.

One early morning last year I was getting dressed and ready for the Helen Klein 50 mile run. A song came into my head. It was Kid A by Radiohead. I don’t know why, but I just started humming the tune, its austere, serene rhythm. I quickly picked up my Ipod and searched for the song. I found it. As I walked toward the starting line of the race I was listening to it over and over. Normally I’m very nervous before a race, but at this moment I remember feeling a sense of calm, a stillness that seemed to come from the music.




Late in the race, as my legs were growing weary, I played a song list that I had prepared for that moment. These songs exude energy and carried me during earlier runs: “Crush” by Paul Van Dyke (one of my daughter’s favorites); “Harvey and the Old Ones” by Banco de Gaia; “Next is the E” by Moby; “Amo Bishop Roden” by Boards of Canada; and the ever-lifting “Everlong” by the Foo Fighters. I crested the last hill at mile 49 and could see the turn to the finish line. Every muscle in me was screaming to slow down. Somehow I didn’t. I made it to the finish, 10th place overall, a mere 5 seconds ahead of the next runner.

As the WS 100 mile race approaches another song enters my mind. It’s “Nude” by Radiohead, one of my favorite songs. I visualize myself coming through the finish line, stronger than I’ve ever felt as a runner. I clinch my fist in the air. Could this be? To finish WS 100 mile run through the mountains feeling on top of the world? Then I hear Nude playing in my head, I notice its tenderness, and the gradual, escalating tenor of Thom York’s piercing voice as he delivers the final lyric—“you’ll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking”.

A chill runs down my neck.


Control Click the Link below to play the Song “Nude”:


http://www.rhapsody.com/player?type=track&id=tra.17739336&remote=false&page=&pageregion=&guid=&from=

Thirty Miles. Five Canyons

Living at the foot of the San Joaquin Hills in the OC has its benefits. When I called Jeff Padilla last night to see if he wanted to run today, I suggested we should start from my house and run into the SJ Hills. Running from my house is usually an easy sale with Jeff, largely because my outside fridge is always filled with cold Coronas. "I'll see you at 7 am" he said just as I was about to walk out the door to go out to dinner with my wife Jen and friends. Jeff was only planning on doing 15 miles, or half of the 30 miles I was planning on running.

Jeff Padilla. The Man. The Legend. The Elvis.

6:50 a.m. -- Doorbell rings, Jeff is here. Kids and wife are asleep, now awake. I hastily assemble my gear. Gel in canister-check. Cliff blocks-check. Energy bars-check. Salt tablets-check. Trameal (anti inflamitory)-check. Emergency TP-check. Heart rate monitor-check. Garmin-check. Ipod-check. Sunglasses-check. Shorts (really now)-check. Sunscreen on-check. Who said running was simple? We're out the door at 7:10 a.m.

Jeff descending single track Coyote Canyon

Top of El Moro Canyon

The San Joaquin Hills consist of 17,201 acres of grasslands, coastal sage, chaparral, and riparian and oak woodlands. From upper Newport Bay these hills extend approximately 16 miles to Oso and Trabuco creeks, and includes Crystal Cove State Park, Laguna Coast Wilderness Park and Aliso/Wood Canyons Reg. Park. To the east looms OC's majestic Saddleback Mountain and to the west the mighty Pacific Ocean, both within view when running the ridge lines. Simply put, the San Joaquin Hills are a beautiful, inspiring place.

View Acsending from Laguna Canyon

Our course took us from a few hundred feet at the start along upper Coyote Canyon to the top of Signal Peak (1,161'), the highest point in the range. From there the views are full and panoramic. Newport Bay below, Palos Verdes above, Catalina to the left. Keep turning. Laguna Beach, the entire San Joaquin Range, El Moro Canyon, Irvine Valley, Saddleback Mountain. They are all there, looking at you look at them.

Signal Peak - 1,161'

We continued on down the trail. Jeff turned to the ocean to head back while I soldiered on toward the warm canyons. My first decent was into El Moro Canyon via "Slow and Easy". This was a good 1.5 mile trail that descends to the bottom of the canyon. From there I headed right back up via "Elevator", the first hill we encounter on Saltwater5000. Once I crested the top I began another long decent to Laguna Canyon via Bommer Ridge.

Salt Tabs. Don't leave home without 'em.

Long descents are golden training opportunities for me for Western States 100. I'm told most runners that drop out of the WS 100 do so not because of the uphills, but because of the pounding of the down hills. The quads get so beat up that people can't continue. I liked this hill so much I turned around and ran up and down it again.

Pain. What Pain?

After "canyoning" twice at Laguna Canyon, I headed back up to the ridge and descended again into El Moro Canyon. From there I headed toward the ocean to finish up the run on the beach along Crystal Cove. I hit the beach at 25 miles and added another 5 on the hard sand.

Not a bad day at the office.

Tunnel to Chrstal Cove State Beach...Alas.

Leona Divide 50 Mile Run

When training for WS 100, I'm told that its best to spend time on your feet in an environment that closely matches the trail from Tahoe to Auburn. So when I said to ultra god Rob McNair that I was thinking of running American River 50 miler for a training run, he said, "why not Leona Divide. Its closer (3 hour drive) and has many more climbs like WS 100". I checked the website and found that, yes, this was no flat course (www.leonadivide.com/course_profile.pdf).

Rob and I drove to Palmdale the night before the run, picked up our numbers, and listened to the pre-race briefing. "The run starts promptly at 6 a.m., the starter is a little grumpy, so don't be late" we were told. We also got the run-down on the course, all the climbs, aid stations and other details. After reviewing the course eleviation profile and listening to the briefing, it was clear that this wasn't going to be an easy event.

Pre race briefing by race directors.

Lining up at the starting line at LD 50 I kept thinking this is my first 50 mile trail run. I'd run Helen Klein 50 mile twice before, but that is basically a flat course. I bombarded myself with questions. How fast should I run? Should I have a goal time? I decided that these questions didn't really matter. What mattered was to just go out and run and get to the finish line.

As promised the gun was sounded, or, more specifically, a rusted circular saw blade was slammed with a hammer, promptly at 6 a.m. And just like that we were off and running under clear skies, with temperatures in the high 40's and gusty winds. Everything seemed to be pointing to an epic day. As I ran along the first several miles I found myself really enjoying things. The views in Angeles National Forest above Lake Hughes were spectacular and the company was great. A low fog was settling into the valleys under a bright sun rise. It was a majestic setting. I struck up a conversation with a really cool runner who said he had run his own 100 miler "just to see if he could do it". As we talked I learned this young runner's name was Nick Hollon. Nick is 18 years old and he simply loves to run ultras. I asked him if he ran cross country for his high school. "Yea I ran xc for the first 3 years but then I stopped my last year to do ultras". At Eighteen folks! Nick is running 100 miles on the track in May to raise money and awareness for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (http://www.3000forthecure.org/).

After a good hour of running or so my stomach began to remind me that I usually don't eat massive amounts of pasta the night before a long run. I began to get that sinking feeling that runners sometimes get when they are up a trail without a porta-potty. At this point I was starting to look at bushes with a very strategic eye, but as the steps continued my "strategy" was rapidly disintegrating into panic. Suffice it to say I wasn't the only one out there with this dilemma. I found my bush and was quickly back on my way (yes, I carry extra paper for these type of situations).

The 50 mile course consisted of 34 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail and 26 miles on dirt road. There were 10 aid stations along the way and the trail was very well marked. It was probably one of the best organized races I've participated in, thanks to Glenda Kimmerly, race director and all the volunteers (thanks everyone!).

Another cool thing about today's run was I knew several of the runners, most of whom had come up from the OC or San Diego. Keira Henninger and I exchanged places on the course several times, offering each other hoots of encouragement along the way (she was coming off a win at Old Goats 50 mile the week before). It was also great to see Bill Ramsey, Gina Natera, Rick Fortini, Robert Schipsi, Charlie Nickell and Michelle Barton, many of whom I met at the Unknown Ultra a few weeks back. Rob McNair also introduced me to San Diego Bad Rat and WS 100 veteran Scott Mills (14 finishes at WS) who's story is illustrated in the book Running Through the Wall, Personal Encounters With the Ultramarthon.

All in all, it was a great event that I would like to come back to. My time of 8:38 was better than I anticipated and I can say that my base training made getting to the finish line under 9 hours possible. The only point of trouble was the blister the size of a New York steak on my right foot at the end of the race. I didn't even notice it until I took my shoes off. Now that this test is behind me I'm looking forward to sharpening my training with more intensity -- mainly hill repeats and track work. It's in the Book!

Unknown...For Now.

When Greg Hardesty blogged me about an “unmarked” 50k run in a “unknown” location, I shrugged it off. What’s he smoking? But then he threw in that they will be serving up “gourmet” food. Hmm, gourmet and ultra, I’ve never heard the words used in the same sentence. Tell me more!

I rolled into the parking lot for the first official “Unknown Ultra” last Saturday before sunrise. Right away Charlie Nickell, run director, introduced himself and several other runners to me. Everyone was very friendly and I knew it was going to be a great day. The run started in waves, with the first group departing at 6:00 a.m. (in the dark) and the second group (my group) around 7:40.




Once we got going it was clear this event was not a race. Everyone stuck together as we clipped along through some of the best single track trail I’ve run in years. The route took us on a round trip from the Candy Store into the San Mateo Creek Wilderness, a green mountain sanctuary on the south side of Ortega Highway. Wildflowers, creek crossings, waterfalls, and a consistent cool breeze kept our spirits high as we ran along our path.



If Charlie is not careful, he might have to change the name of this event from the “Unknown Ultra” to the “Well Known Ultra”. Everything about the event--from the chocolate covered strawberries and assorted fresh fruit at the aid stations, to the broiled salmon, couscous with fresh peas and turkey chili at the finish--was stupendous! Given all its splendor, I don't know how this event will remain "unknown" for long. Thank you Charlie and your family for a fun, rewarding and well supported run!

(From there I made my way back to the homestead where I found two anxious little friends ready to keep the fun going.)

First "Official" WS Training Run

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Cleveland anymore!
When I arrived at the first "official" training run for Western States, I could only breathe a sigh of relief. Just 24 hours earlier, I was slogging 5 miles on a treadmill in Cleveland – where it was 14 below zero outside. Oh its good to back in California.

The official run started with a few announcements. First up -- there would be strict enforcement of a "no-pee zone". Translation: board the bus, ride to start, but don’t pee until you get past the no-pee zone over a mile into the run. Local residents apparently don’t like it when bus loads of runners fertilize their lawns. Now I don’t know about you, but after I drink my tall Starbucks, follow up with a bottle of water to ensure hydration, then ride on a herky-jerky school bus for an hour, my bladder begins to self destruct. The first mile of this run was one of my fastest ever.


Today’s run was the first of a series of training runs organized by the Western States race. It covered the last 20 miles of the 100 mile course, with one key difference: on race day this portion of the run is at night and in the dark. We started just above the green gate aid station. The first half of the run was rolling single track, very runable, with several stream crossings. There well over a hundred runners so we got bogged down a bit in places. What I found spectacular was the views along this course—awe inspiring canyons, towering rock walls, majestic green hills, and the ever present American River. I’m very pleased to have run this during daylight because I won’t be seeing – or enjoying – the splendor come race day.

Up next was what I hope is a prelude to race day – the aid station. Is it Thanksgiving today? My god, I’ve never seen such a spread! These people know how to please. M&Ms, PB&Js, Paydays, Bananas, Brownies, Oreos, GU, Succeed, GU20, watermelon, pretzels, strawberries. Need I say more? I grabbed as much as I could hold in my two hands and kept walking, eating as I went.

We were well into the second half of this 20 mile run and I started to realize what I am in for come race day. I had only run some 13 miles at this point. My hamstrings were sore, and my shoulders tight. We came to highway 49 crossing, and then a gradual uphill for a couple of miles, a brief flat section, then the decent onto No Hands Bridge. This marks mile 97 on the WS course, and the beginning of the final climb to the finish. I pushed on thinking that if I’m sore now after only running 17 miles, how the hell am I going to feel after running 97 miles? Note to self: keep training, you still have four months.

Finally I crested the top of the last hill and came to the finish at the sacred track at Placer High School. Waiting for us was more food, including bacon, eggs and pancakes. I woofed down a some goods then realized I had to get to the airport to fly home. With no shower or change of clothes in the cards, had to jump in my rental car a little sweaty. Thus completes a very fun and enlightening run that will, no doubt, keep my expectations in check.

Milestones

Last week marked two milestones for me: my first 50 mile week in 2008 and the beginning of lent, or more specifically, 40 days of sobriety .

Climbing the mileage ladder. While not my only priority, increasing my weekly miles is an important part of my plan to go the distance at Western States. And getting in my first 50 mile week is a small yet important psychological milestone. Its not that I’ve haven’t run 50 miles in a week before--I did ten 50 mile weeks prior to the Helen Klein Ultra in November and many more in my marathon days. Rather, it’s just one step closer toward my goal of pushing my weekly miles into the 70 to 80 miles-per-week range. To get to that mileage though I’m building as fast and as slow as I have to, meaning not too fast as to injure myself (knock on wood), and not to slow as to miss being able to increase the intensity of my runs well before the race. It's been said by many a running sage that you don't increase mileage AND intensity at the same time. Since it is mid February now, and the race is at the end of June, I’ve got 4 months or so before I have to start tapering. I figure I’ll be pushing 60 miles per week by the end of February, 70 miles by the end of March and 80 miles by the end of April. I haven’t been doing any real interval training (purposely avoiding this until I have more weekly miles under my belt), but I hope to begin doing intervals, depending on how I feel, in March, or after I’ve hit 60 per week or so.


What I’ve noticed recently is that my legs are sore for much of the week. Not a big deal, I guess, as fatigue is something I've come to associate as part of training. Yet too much fatigue is the first warning sign of overtraining, so I'm keeping close tabs on my heart rate during my standard weekly runs. My goal during this build up stage is to get through the weeks with decent mileage at a low heart rate (75% or less of max, or 145 bpm or less), and then go into the weekend with some energy for a long run of 20 plus miles building to 40 miles. Its the long run that is the hard workout for the week for me during this build-up stage.



As for the sobriety thing, its my third year cutting out alcohol during lent. I'm not a particularly religious person, but I like being in control of at least some things in my life. This choice gives me the ability to choose another road, even if for a short period. Its interesting, this thing called "control". Recently I had a conversation with my father and we talked about running, and how keeping a schedule, planning your training, even writing down your workouts, gives one a sense of control. How many things in our life can we really control? Running, at least for me, is one of them. That might be why I keep coming back to it.

Why am I doing this??

Why am I running Western States 100 mile endurance run? The short answer? I've been brainwashed by the ultra running gods. The long answer? It’s a new challenge for me…and I need a challenge to stay focused…to stay motivated. I’ve run several marathons, including Boston, London, Sacramento, San Antonio, Napa, even St. George as a bandit/pacer. But the marathon experience – for me anyway – has gotten a little stale.

I run to gain fitness, to push my body, and also to gain peace in an otherwise chaotic world. Marathons certainly do this, but to keep it real, I needed something different. In 2006 me and an ultra running friend trained for and ran the Helen Klein 50 miler, a relatively flat race along the American River in the Sacramento area. We had a great experience in what was my first official “ultra”. I liked the 50 mile race so much I did it again in 2007. This was a big motivator for me to run something longer, and Western States was waiting.

What I’m learning about running ultra’s is that eating, hydrating, taking electrolytes, and running within yourself is critical to getting to the finish line. When you are on your feet for 7 to 30 hours, you simply have to keep your body fed. And you have to train it to be fed, in not so ideal conditions. I’ve never run 100 miles before, but I’m looking forward to the challenge – both physical and mental.

Here goes!