Hydration for the Long Haul

After suffering through a miserable cold this week, I finally decided today to set out on trail, feeling well enough for the first time in several days. I used to run with a cold all the time, but found that doing so gave the virus easy pathway to my lungs. Not that I’m 100% yet, but I’m well enough to get out under a crisp blue sky and sun drenched trees.

I’m pretty sure today was the longest time I’ve spent on foot on a single run since Western States. Total time logged was 4 hours and nine minutes, which felt like butter for the first 2 ½ hours, while I stayed well below my max aerobic heart rate, climbing gently up San Joaquin Hills road and under good shade, until crossing over to the Coyote Canyon trail that parallels Ridge Park Road. Along this trail, which sits in the heart of Newport Coast but is unused if not unknown to most, the fall shadows loomed over the rocky terrain and ancient caves. Fall is most certainly here and with it is a brand new season to explore.

One of my objectives today was to go the distance self supported, without refueling along the way. I want to know how long and how far I can run without a water source, and what kind of equipment I can reasonably carry on a long sustained run. The system I used a few weeks ago, a Patagonia hiking pack with 120 ounces of water, a sleeping bag, a mat and bug net was a disaster and I don’t know what I was thinking when I started up Holly Jim trail. Sometimes naïve enthusiasm can carry you a long way, and it did, until I realized I couldn’t run in the contraption without the bag bouncing up and down more than a worn out Cadillac hurling over massive speed bumps.

Thanks to a fellow ultra runner and blogger Ian, I realized that they actually make bags for runners that can carry this kind of gear and water. I purchased one he recommended to me, the Camelbak Rim Runner, which holds 100 oz of fluid (3 liters) 1590 cu in of cargo. I loaded the bag up with about 80 oz of water, some bars, a sweatshirt for girth, and set out on trail. They bag worked great, had minimal bounce (I’m still trying to get used to Camelback because I’ve been using a Nathan hydro pack for over a year), and I made it the full 4 hours without having to stop for water. I felt so great around 2 hours that I called my wife and said I was going to be out for a couple more hours.

From the top of Newport Coast, I dropped into El Moro State Park along the Fence Line and Missing Link, and over to Laguna Coast Wilderness on the southern most ridge, and then down to Laguna Canyon Road, and back via the Ranger Station hill. The climb out, well, was not so fun and the butter it felt like earlier was beginning to curdle inside of me. Oh how I miss these long runs!

Running vs Cycling - An Interview with PhD Pam Hinton

Imagine two piers. Both are built using the same solid design and quality material. These piers are identical in every way, with one exception. Pier One is built over the ocean and is regularly subjected to storms and rough seas. Pier Two is erected over a small lake with calm waters. As years pass, Pier One takes regular beatings from high surf and gale force winds. Builders are constantly repairing and replacing its pillars and support beams. Pier Two, on the other hand, gets very little abuse in its placid environment and, on the surface, shows little need for repair.

Fast forward 50 years. Pier One sits majestically above the same rough seas and storms. With its pillars and support beams continuously replaced over the years, it still stands like a fortress. Pier Two, well, Pier Two collapsed some years ago. Its decaying pillars were never repaired or replaced and it eventually buckled mercilessly under the force of neglect.

Now imagine your bones as a Pier. If you are a runner, chances are your bones are like Pier One - constantly abused, but always being repaired and replaced. If you’re a cyclist, well, your bones might be like Pier Two, a shrine of tranquility but getting weaker beneath the surface.

This isn’t a joke guys and gals. According to Pam Hinton, PhD and associate professor of nutritional sciences at the University of Missouri, running promotes stronger bones, while cycling does the opposite.

Hinton co-authored a study this year comparing bone densities of elite runners to those of similarly accomplished cyclists. Her work was published in the journal Clinical and Experimental Metabolism. I recently caught up with Pam via email to learn more about her research on this topic and what it all means to runners and cyclists.

Will: Pam, first of all thank you for doing this interview.

PH: You’re welcome. Thank you for the opportunity to talk about our research and to increase awareness of this important problem that affects apparently healthy and fit individuals.

Will: I’ve read that you were a competitive runner in college, but a car accident ended your running career. You then became a cyclist. Can you talk a little about this experience? How does this motivate you and your research?

PH: Well, a great thing about my job is that I have the freedom to study problems that interest me—both professionally and personally. Some of the best career advice I ever received was from my postdoc mentor at Cornell University, Dr. Rasmussen. She told me that I SHOULD study what I am passionate about. She said that the odds of being a successful researcher are much greater if you’re passionate about your work. I’ve been interested in the interactive effects of nutrition and physical activity on bone for a long time.

Since my days as runner for the University of Wisconsin, I have been interested in how energy balance affects bone health. At that time, I was interested in how being in an energy-deprived state results in loss of bone mass, even if the skeleton is exposed to high-impact loading. As you mentioned, I was hit by a car and suffered a fracture that required surgery and almost a year of physical therapy. I took up cycling as a result. The inspiration to look at bone density in male cyclists hit me on a group ride one day.

We know that there are three key factors for maintenance of strong bones: adequate nutrition, especially calcium and vitamin D; normal hormonal status; and, regular loading of the skeleton. Although the men I ride with get enough dietary calcium and do not have endocrine issues, I wondered what years of spending so much time in a non-weight-bearing sport would do to their bones.

Will: I’ve always thought cycling was less damaging to your body than running. But your study on the bone densities of runners and cyclists would appear to indicate the opposite. Can you explain the results of your study?

PH: High impact (ground reaction) forces exerted on the skeleton during running or other high-impact physical activities are both good for the bones and bad for the joints (especially if your anatomy or biomechanics are not suited to running). What we found in our cross-sectional study is that cyclists had lower bone density of the lumbar spine than runners. In addition, ~65% of the cyclists we studied had osteopenia of the lumbar spine or hip. Osteopenia can be viewed as “pre-osteoporosis.”

The clinical definition of osteopenia is bone mineral density that is one standard deviation below the mean for young adults, while osteoporosis is less than 2.5 standard deviations below the mean. On a population level, fracture risk increased 2-3-fold for each standard deviation below the mean. So, it appears that the cyclists in our study were at increased risk for fracture of the lumbar spine.

Will: Can you tell us about the number and type of athletes that were involved in this study?

PH: We had 43 amateur runners and cyclists aged 20-59 years in the study. The athletes who participated in our study were competitive at the local and regional level.

Will: What kind of questions did you get from the athletes when they learned of the results? What kind of feedback did you give them?

PH: Most of the participants who learned that they had low bone density were surprised to learn that they had low bone density—typically a disease of older women! Their reaction was understandable, as these were otherwise very healthy and fit individuals. Some did not believe that the results were anything to worry about—“I’ve crashed many times and never broken anything!” However, the majority were concerned and wanted to know what they could do. We recommended that they contact their physician for follow-up treatment.

Will: I’ve known many runners who have had to hang it up because of various injuries. Doesn’t running pose other risks that aren’t present in cycling? How do runners avoid these debilitating injuries?

PH: Yes, although running-related injury is not my area of expertise, life-long runners often develop joint or soft-tissue problems that are associated with the repetitive impact of running. From a bone-strengthening perspective, however, it doesn’t take much running to achieve the maximal benefit. Unlike most benefits of exercise, more is not better when it comes to bone. This is because the bone becomes refractory after 100 loading cycles (i.e., impacts or foot strikes). Bone recovers after 8 hours of rest and will respond to additional loading. So, from a practical point of view, it makes the most sense to do more short bouts of high-impact activity as opposed to longer bouts less frequently.

Will: Do swimmers have the same risk as cyclist when it comes to bone strength?

PH: We have not studied swimmers, but, yes, we suspect that swimmers would be at increased risk. Swimming, like cycling, does not produce ground reaction forces on the skeleton.

Will: At what age should someone be worried about osteopenia?

PH: The key to prevention of osteopenia or osteoporosis is maximizing peak bone mass during periods of skeletal growth. A normal consequence of aging is loss of bone mass. Thus, the goal during childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood is to put as much bone in the bank, so to speak, as possible to minimize the negative consequences of age-related loss. However, unless an individual is at risk, e.g., use of medications that cause bone loss, endocrine disorders, or decreased estrogen, clinically significant bone loss does not typically emerge until after menopause in women and age 70 in men.

Will: How can one find out if they suffer from or are at risk of osteopenia?

PH: They must have their bone density measured. The most accurate assessment is measurement by dual-energy X-ray absorptiometry (DXA).

Will: Can supplements help minimize risk of osteopenia?

PH: Adequate nutrition, especially calcium and vitamin D, but other nutrients, too, is necessary but not sufficient. In other words, supplemental calcium cannot “make-up” for lack of weight-bearing activity or inadequate estrogen.

Will: What can we expect to see from you next? Are you planning any future studies?

PH: Just last month, we were awarded a 3-year grant from the National Institutes of Health to determine the efficacy of one-year exercise-based intervention to increase bone mass in men with osteopenia. We are going to compare plyometrics (jump-training) and resistance exercise.

Will: Thank you Pam. Your work is very enlightening. I look forward to hearing more about your next project!

Padilla's 60th Mile

Last weekend welcomed a 60 mile run by my good friend Jeff Padilla. Jeff turned 60 years old and decided, in true ultra fasion, that he would run 60 miles to celebrate his entry into the next age group. Friends of Jeff ran with him every step of the way and we all met up with him after the run at his favorite spiritual center, Blackies Bar in Newport Beach. Happy Birthday Jeff! It was great to run and celebrate with you! Click on the video below and enjoy...

Click To Play

Trail post--Santa Ana Mountains

This is a first for me. Today I'm doing my first overnight, self supported run. I started with a sleeping bag, 134 oz of water (yes, very heavy), some bars and dried fruit, and a few other odds and ends. I sarted at the base of holy jim trail and made it to blue jay, about 14 miles. Running with a full back pack was brutal, but I'll be returning a lot lighter now that half my water has been used, which is more than enough to return. Now I lay under a full moon.

Keep it real!

Trail Post #1

Today I plan to do a first effort with overnight equipment on trail. This is a test to see how posting from the trail via blacberry works. More to come...

Get Well

I just returned from a three day trip tonight and learned that two ultra runners, Fidel Diaz and Gina Natera, were lost for three days in the Cleveland National Forest. I know nothing more than what I’ve read in the news and from emails of friends. Apparently the two ran out of water on a long run that started at 5:30 am on Sunday, they got separated, and lost their way under the intense heat. Both runners were found alive today by search and rescue teams and one, Gina Natera, is in critical condition and in intensive care.

Get well, soon, Fidel and Gina.

I Went Back to Ohio

Last weekend I was taken by ambulance from the Columbus airport. Medical emergencies are scary, but being transported by ambulance only hastens that fear. As the ambulance rolled out of the airport I heard the siren begin to blare.

Thank goodness this was not your typical ambulance, and I was not suffering from a medical emergency. In fact the last emergency this converted rescue vehicle likely saw was a hang-over induced up-chuck, or maybe a failed satellite TV signal in the closing minutes of an Ohio state football game. Yes, this was a real life, fully functional ambulance converted to a modernized tailgating party wagon. Genius!

This was the kickoff of a weekend in Columbus, OH to see the Ohio State Buckeyes play the USC Trojans. But what do football and ambulances have to do with running? Absolutely nothing. Then let me dispense of the running thing quickly. I ran Coffman High School, which as it turned out was where the Trojan football team practiced before the big game. I ran a 1.5 mile warm up and 1.5 mile warm down, and 1,200 meters on the track including 100 and 200 meter stride outs, designed to help me get a little speed back after spending the last two years training for really long distances.



Even with such a short run, the weekend turned out to be as much an ultra marathon as any race I've ever entered. I don't care what kind of shape your in, because when you arrive seven hours before game time to a tailgate party equipped with kegs of cold Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, cherries soaked in grain alcohol, cigars, and swarms of hardened Buckeye fans anxious to break a six game losing streak, fading down the home stretch is a real risk. I walked into Simon’s tailgate zone like a babe in a lawless saloon. I quickly loosened up with a few games of cornhole, the Midwestern version of horse shoes, a few BPRs, and then watched several college football games on the flat screen TV mounted in the back of Simon’s converted ambulance.


Pulling in the Sandbags

Then there was the game. USC and Ohio State have been battling each other for decades. I remember watching the epic battles between Woody Hays and John McKay as a kid. But this year, while the Trojans had beaten the Buckeyes in their previous 6 match ups, I wasn’t about to get sucked into this pre-game hype. Football is football and when you have a freshman quarterback, two new coordinators, and you’re in a rocking stadium with over 100,000 fans screaming at your team on every snap, anything can happen. So, whether staging for a Katrina size storm or a freaky high tide on Balboa Island, sandbagging has its place. Ok we won, but because we won I need to remind my Buckeye friends that while you have Tressel Ball, we have Carroll Ball. While you consistently beat weaker opponents, we consistently lose to them.

Thanks to all you guys, gals and tennis players for a great weekend and...we'll see you in the Rose Bowl!!!

Patagonia Makes Shoes? A Review

A couple of weeks ago I was asked by a rep of Patagonia if I would post a review of Patagonia’s trail running shoe, the Release. Of course I would, was my reply. I’m not one to experiment too broadly with running shoes, since I’m usually disappointed when I do, and I always seem to come back to my Asics 2130 Trails. But the worst that could happen, I figured, is the shoes could suck and simply end up in my shoe junk heap.

When the shoes arrived I immediately put them on my shoe scale. No, they don’t make shoe scales. But they do make food scales that are easily convertible to shoe scales. Regardless, these shoes are a little heavy! Weighing in at just over 14 ounces, they are on the heavy side of shoes I like to run in. But they are not far off from my 2130 Trails (13 oz), Asics Gel Cumulus (12 oz), and are the same weight as my La Sportiva Fireblades. Trial shoes are usually a little heavier than their road brethren because they usually have, among other things, thicker outsoles and midsoles to protect the feet from the elements on trial.

When I laced these up I was pleasantly surprised at how the shoe hugged my feet. The Release looks a little stiff and rigid, but when I put it on it stretched nicely to tie into a perfect fit. Patagonia calls this Dynamic Fit Lacing System and it seems to work well for my foot. I often run a few miles on streets to get to trail and I dread shoes that are too hard, but also those that are too soft. I have now done several runs from 5 to 10 miles in the shoe in varied terrain. My overall impression of the Patagonia Release is quite good. Their traction is excellent, cushioning is just right and stability seems quite good.

Another thing I liked about the shoe is the arch, and where it bends when you push the toe and heel together. One thing I’ve learned as a runner is shoes that bend right in the middle of the arch when you push the toe and heel together really play havoc on the middle section of my plantar fasciitis. Shoes that bend in front of the arch, like these, seem to protect this area for me. I can buy a pair of shoes and if it’s the wrong shoe feel a sharp pain right in the middle of my arch. Shoes with higher arches also help control this.

So, do I recommend the Patagonia Release? For those of you who are looking for a solid, comfortable trail shoe that don’t mind a little heavier shoe for training, this shoe is a good choice. Also, if you are the green sort concerned about the environment, the Release uses recycled material for the midsole. I wouldn’t recommend the shoe for those of you looking for a fast trainer or racing shoe, unless you are doing a technical course and need a little more girth around the toes. In sum, I like the Patagonia Release and I expect to continue using it for my longer training runs.

2009 Angeles Crest 100 Mile Run Cancelled

When mother nature speaks, she usually has something dramatic to say. For those of us who have to listen, it often comes as one sudden disappointment, even sacrifice. Last year, as she wielded her powers down on the forests of Placer County, dozens of fires rose from lightening strikes, and hundreds of Western States runners, some traveling across the globe, were told to quietly go home. The race had been canceled. Runners of the 2009 Angeles Crest 100 mile endurance now face the same disappointing reality.

As one who experienced the Western States 2008 cancellation, I can only say this -- accept the fact that we type-As can't control everything and indeed control very little; get over the obsession of the "event" and celebrate the journey; and get on to another venue where you can display your fitness and resolve. Oh yea, don't feel guilty about tipping a few extra to get over the angst.

Keep it real runners

Americans vs Africans

Are America's golden years of distance running over? Will the successes of Frank Shorter and Joan Benoit Samuelson ever be repeated by another American? According to an article in the Wall Street Journal entitled The Africans Are Hearing Footsteps, not unless we put our watches away and our obsession on the science of training in the dumpster.

According to Kenyan runner Felix Limo (London and Chicago marathon winner) American distance runners have been surpassed by Africans because "U.S. runners rely too much on structure and scientific programs". Other sources quoted in the article say Americans don't have the same threshold for pain as the Africans and, oddly, Americans have read too many books and have become too structured in their training.


If I didn't know anything about the sport and its literature I might be so inclined to buy this argument hook-line-and-sinker. True, there is a plethora of science and literature that has entered the sport in the last couple of decades. But too much reading? Too much structure? I don’t think so. First of all the literature the article sites as influencing American elite runners would lead one to believe the author is, well, clueless. He points to Runner’s World Magazine, a magazine designed for beginning runners, as an influence. Runners World? Come on Wall Street Journal, do you think our elites have been sitting around waiting for there monthly issue to learn the top 5 ways to improve their 5k time? Another source sited is the Runners Handbook, by Bob Glover. While he writes good training primers for beginning to advanced runners, Glover's books fall way short of elite training tools. A reference to Jack Daniels or David Costill would’ve lent some credibility.

Let’s face it, it’s not about what runners are doing in America or Africa, it’s about what running means to Americans and Africans. Distance running doesn’t put food on the table in America. It doesn’t lift Americans from a poverty to prosperity. It doesn’t even make us national heroes. If it did, in my humble opinion, the tables would be turned.

Big Bear Sunset

Motivation

It was a sweltering day, 15 years ago. Alone on a steep hill, I climbed. But just as fast as the sweat pored off my skin, guilt was drowning my mind. With a budding career weighing on my shoulders, I asked myself, why am I out here? And just like that, I succumbed.

Motivation. Sometimes you have it, sometimes you don’t. It’s the reason we keep going, through thick and thin, fatigue and frustration. It's how we overcome life's many challenges. Motivation comes to us in different forms and from different places. It is intellectual and emotional. It is in our head and in our hearts. Without it, we are hapless souls, trudging in and out of life's bland encounters. With it we are colorful players on the field, ready to take on the greatest opponents our minds can throw at us.

But where does it come from? Motivation. Are we born with an innate supply of it? Do we learn to "become" motivated through life's experience? This may well be forever unknown. What is known, however, is that motivation comes in different forms. Intellectual motivation, for example, is different than emotional motivation.

Like everything linked to the mind, intellectual motivation comes to us through rational thought. The desire to win trophies, gain kudos from friends and peers, or to be "known" as an athlete. These are all intellectual "motives" to which we often succumb. They are motives of the ego. But are these motives long lasting? Will they get you though the most grueling and challenging times? Unfortunately, they will not. Just like sugar, they'll leave you high one moment, and low the next.

Emotional motivation is different. It runs through your body. It comes from your gut, enters the spine, then without warning seeps through your skin. Before you recognize it, it will give you goose bumps. Wherever its starts and ends, you can feel it. And what's best, it doesn't even have to make sense!

What I've learned is that, unless I can really feel the motivation to do something big, I'm better off not even attempting to do it. The fact is I've been motivated by my ego to beat my marathon PR that has stood for 16 years, but I am yet to feel that I can do it. Can I still do it at 46? I'm still waiting for the goose bumps. And should they come, my ego will be anxiously waiting.

No Need to Get Away

I was thumbing through some quotes to help revive my vision of where my feet may fall next. I stumbled across this, and it kind of blew me away. Enjoy.

"People try to get away from it all- to the country, to the beach, to the mountains. You always wish that you could too. Which is idiotic: you can get away from it anytime you like. By going within. Nowhere you can go is more peaceful-more free of interruption-than your own soul."

Marcus Aurelius

Western States 100, An Epilogue

This one is hard to put into words. I’m not sure if it is because there is so much to say, or because there is so much I just don’t know how to say. In short it’s been a long road with many bumps and turns along the way, and I wouldn’t have made it without the help of my family and friends.

Saturday, June 27th. 5:00 am. Literally the moment for which I’d been waiting three consecutive years. It finally came. When it did, a crazy, chanting group of some 400 eccentric runners started up the face of Squaw Valley, destine for the small town of Auburn exactly 100.2 miles away. We would travel on foot over mountains, under forests, across canyons, through a river, beneath the blazing sun, and then into the darkness of night. It was a surreal feeling to be there at that moment, with so much anticipation. As I pushed up the mountain, I couldn’t help but think to myself, will I get through this?

Start to Robinson Flat (First 29 miles). From the start at Squaw Valley to the top of the Escarpment, the first 3.5 miles, is the steepest and highest climb of this race. Starting at 6,200’ above sea level and rising to 8,720’, this section had me checking and rechecking my heart rate, which was reading north of 160 bpm for the entire climb, just power walking. This was a much higher rate than I anticipated, which had me a little concerned with some 97 miles to go. Once we summited, I looked back over Lake Tahoe and the surrounding mountains, and felt a nice, important rush of energy.

For the next 26 miles we ran what was for me the hardest part of the course. This was mostly a single track, up and down, winding trail at or above 7,000’. My goal here was to eat and drink as often as possible, avoid overexertion, and try to get through the section with minimal episodes. I knew my body would have to work 20% harder through this section just because of the altitude. All was going well, so well in fact I decided to celebrate by listening to some music on my Ipod. Then, just like that, my left ankle buckled as I was rounding the tight, rocky trail. I felt a sharp pain shoot up my leg. Shit! Did that just happen? I just sprained my ankle and I have 83 miles left to run! I stopped, collected myself, then began slowly walking. My ankle was stiff and in pain, but I could still walk on it. After a few minutes, I started to jog slowly. I continued to feel pain, but it was muted by the endorphins now rushing through my body. I continued gingerly through the most technical sections of the course.



As the miles crept by, my confidence began to return. Having experienced an ankle sprain on a long run before, I knew that there was a good chance the pain and stiffness would work itself out if I continued running. And it did. After a couple hours I didn’t feel the pain anymore and I was able to get back to my normal stride. I deemed this ankle sprain to be a blessing in disguise, forcing me to slow things down for the long run ahead. I continued through the long decent into Duncan Canyon, and then up the 1,400' climb to Robinson Flat. In terms of difficulty, this was not far off from the first climb up the face of Squaw because we were still at altitude. The heat was also beginning to set in. Seeing my crew at Robinson was a welcome site. They made sure I got my nutrition and got me on my way.



The Canyons – Robinson Flat to Forrest Hill (Miles 29 to 62). If there is one dreaded section of the Western States trail, it would be the canyons. Hot, steep and unrelenting, the canyons come in the middle of the course, when the sun is at its highest arch. I knew the heat would be a factor so I loaded up with more water than normal, carrying at certain points 110 ounces in a hydration pack and two hand held bottles, 60% of which I would dump over my head along the way to stay cool. This strategy worked as I never felt too hot, even with temperatures


reaching triple digits and climbing the nasty Devil’s Thumb and Michigan Bluff ascents. What I didn’t do so well was to conserve my quads on the descents. I’d been told by many Western gurus that running with any intensity down the canyons was risky business because my quads could really suffer, which would slow me down later in the race. I moved quickly down these descents despite these warnings. I met my unflappable crew again at Michigan Bluff (Mile 55) and Forrest Hill (mile 62) for a much needed, but quick break. My pacer Rob McNair joined me at Forrest Hill for the rest of the run.



Forest Hill to Auburn (miles 62 to 100.2) – Western States veterans all say that you need to save your energy until Forrest Hill, for it is here where you can really run. The trail is smooth with a gentle downhill and it is the most runable section of the course. I entered the section with some life still left in my legs. As Rob and I continued down the long winding single track I knew every step I took in daylight was a step faster than I could take at nightfall. We pushed under the fading light.

At the end of the Forrest Hill trail we reached the river crossing at Rucky Chucky. Nightfall had set in. Here we crossed the American river, submerging ourselves in the chilly, chest high running water, stepping on boulders illuminated only by glow sticks glimmering beneath the surface. The glow of the lights in the river and a long cable beckoned me across. As I stepped into the water a cold shiver ran through my body. After 78 miles of running, my mind was beginning to slip. The mountain water was a good wake up call. Volunteers were in rafts telling us where to step, and where not to. The whole thing reminded me of a scene in the movie Apocalypse Now, when American Captain Benjamin L. Willard (Marten Sheen) and his men were stuck at night at a bridge under heavy fire by the Vietcong. Lights flashing, people barking out orders. Organized chaos.

We moved up Rucky Chukcy to Greengate, were my fearless crew waited for us. They had hiked 1.25 miles in at 10 pm just to see me wave at them and keep moving. From there we made our way through a very runnable section of the course. And it was here where my quads began to give way. I’d been running some 18 hours by now, up and down tens of thousands of feet of mountain trails, and my legs were now saying enough already! Every step I took hurt. Wait, I remember saying to myself, you can’t give up now! And so I persisted in a fight with my quads for the rest of the night, pushing them as they pushed back. I had to shorten my stride just keep my legs from buckling under my own weight. I continued this battle as Rob and I made our way over the dark undulating trail toward the finish line.



Finish Line – Placer High School. How does one describe the feeling finishing a 100 mile run? How does one tell a story of spending three years to qualify, train, plan and then run a 100 mile race? I don’t know if this is possible. I do know, however, that as I ran the last half mile of this long journey, the pain began to melt away. When I saw the finish line, I could hear my crew and friends yelling for me. It was a moment for which I had been waiting a long, long time. And then, just like that, 23 hours and 28 minutes after taking my first step, I crossed the finish line.



I can't say how much help I received from others to make this possible. My crew, which included my wife Jen and friends Laura, Rob and Jeff, where phenomenal. They met me at every stop throughout the day and night, often hiking long distances just to see me for a minute. They took great care of me. As for Rob, my pacer, I simply couldn't have made it those last 20 miles without him. His words of wisdom along the way gave me the confidence to push through the dark moments. Thanks guys, running 100's is truly a team sport and I had the best team!

Western States Live Webcast

Click here for the live Western States webcast and follow your runner through the course. There are 24 aid stations and each runner must pass a mandatory weigh-in 10 times along the course.

My number is 167.