UTMB Helicopter Coverage Video

UTMB is less than 5 weeks away. I'm not sure what I've gotten myself into. After watching this video, I'm realizing I might have bitten off more than I can chew.... (click on enlarge)

Giving Back

Myself, Larry and Simon C 

As the sun began to rise over the San Gabriel Mountains on Sunday we were nearing the top of Mt. Wilson. Darkness was giving way, and across the canyon the ridge line began to glow from the gentle morning light. I asked Larry R to stop, just for a moment, to take in the view. Having run 85 miles and climbed 19,000 feet, he immediately took me up on the offer. As we stood there, we looked over a vast wilderness that, on this day, was his playground.

When I received Larry R's email asking if I would pace him for the last 25 miles at Angeles Crest this year, I replied right away. Of course I would. I had never paced anyone before, and I was looking forward to the experience of helping a friend and fellow runner get to the finish line.

Bitch!

I met Larry and his first pacer Simon C at Chantry Flats, mile 74.5. It's a good sign when a runner doesn't want to spend much time at the aid station, and we quickly began our journey into the forest toward Mt. Wilson. As the miles ticked away, I continued to look back at Larry. He never faltered. Over the mountains, in the canyons, even under the scorching sun, he remained determined and focused. His face said it all - stoic - like the Terminator. When I dropped the nickname on him, all I heard was "Get to the chopper!"

The only sign of trouble came when Larry asked the Idle Hour aid station crew for some assistance applying lubrication to his number 2 portal, noting it felt like he'd been gang raped by a freight train. Team sport notwithstanding, there were no volunteers for this task. He disappeared behind the pick up truck while I had another pancake.

By the time we reached the Millard aid station, mile 95, Larry's time from last year's race was within reach if he continued pushing a little. I mentioned this cautiously, knowing just getting to the finish line is the primary focus of any 100 race. But as we got closer, I knew he was close to tagging a better time. I urged him to keep shuffling, and dangled a water bottle a few inches beyond his reach. "Keep moving," I bellowed. Of course, after running 98 miles, he didn't like any of this, and he started calling me bitch. I obliged by continuing.

By the time we made the last turn to the finish line, Larry could see and hear his crew, cheering. His son ran out to greet him. I looked at his face. For the first time the stoic expression that guided him through such difficulties began to fade. Then a smile emerged as he took his son's hand. They moved effortlessly over the grass to the finish line.

If ultra running is anything, it is a team sport, and the real competition is between your heart and mind. I've gained some of this wisdom in my races, but it wasn't until I paced a fellow runner for the first time that I discovered the essence of this about our sport.

Good work Larry. Thanks for asking me to be you pacer. I enjoyed every moment.

Trail Buddies

If you run trails it's only a matter of time before you run into trail buddies. I ran into this Scorpion last night on Turtle Ridge. Did you know that Scorpions can live for a year on just one meal? Scientist have found they can be put in a freezer over night and walk away the next day. Now that is a survivor!

The Sun Rains

I walk out my front door and begin to jog slowly. She rides next to me on her bike. Then she looks over to me and smiles. We move over grass and along the sidewalks, then down the steep hill in our neighborhood. Ahead of us her sister rides with the wind in her hair. Swerving with a certain rhythm, she glides down the quiet street. It’s summer now and the air is warm from the sun raining down. A gentle breeze blows on our backs.

We stop at the playground. They spun there on tire swings as toddlers. Tether ball, basketball, soccer, kite flying, skateboarding. We’ve done them all there over the years. I stretch and they squeeze in a few minutes on what is now just little kid’s stuff. We move on, through next neighborhood. They roll while I run. We cruise past the young families, strollers. My youngest watches her sister, but stays close to me. Stopping when I lag. I feel no pressure to run faster, just a desire to absorb the moments.

We stop for a drink. Soft drinks for them, an Americano for me. What am I thinking? I can’t drink a hot beverage in the middle of a run on warm summer day. It sounded good when I ordered it. Then we move again, heading back to our house, this time up the rolling hills, along a trail where lizards like to cross our path. We walk up the steepest section, until we make our way back home.


These are the moments. 

UTMB Training. Do I Need a Therapist?

Do you sometimes wonder (I mean worry or freak out) if your training is up to snuff? Whether your doing all the right things to train for your big event? Have you ever felt you might not have the perfect amount of hills, speed, trails, roads, heat, cold, altitude, nutrition, hydration, threshold, lifting, stretching, and recovery in your training? I have.

Today I got some feedback from a good friend. He said that I’m analyzing my training runs too much. He is probably right. He recommended that I just keep moving forward on my runs and stop worrying about all these details. Is that possible? I’m not sure. Is it possible for an anal retentive type A obsessed runner to simply move forward? Hmm...wouldn’t that be moving backward?

Anyway, here are a few pics from today’s run with Rob M (my new therapist). Another UTMB focused training day that came up short on the feet per mile metric that I’m now obsessed with. We left Holy Jim trail head (1,725’) and ran to the top of Santiago Peak (5,689’), twice. Total ascent for the run: 8500 feet. Total miles run: 33. Total ascent per mile: 257.5. UTMB ascent per mile? 300+

Guess I need to just keep moving forward!

Self Portrait--Where is the Prozac?

Rob M sitting on the summit

Thank You, Readers

Thanks to all of you who have been following and commenting on my blog. I wrote my very first post January 20, 2008. Four and a half years and 227 posts later, because of you, my blog surpassed 100,000 visits this last week.

For me, one of the best things about writing a blog is connecting with so many people that have their own challenges and accomplishments to write about - their own stories to tell. Yes, we ultra runners are a little different. Call us obsessive, intense, maybe a little nuts. But we're not bad company in the long run!  

I guess we all have our own reasons for running. For me writing them down somehow makes them more real. 

Keep the faith my fellow runners and readers, and thanks again for stopping by!

Mountain Splendor

Mt. San Gorgonio from Anderson Pk. 

There is nothing like running in the mountains. You breathe air that don't normally breathe. You see things you don't usually see. You find things you don't normally find.

If the mountains offer one thing, escaping the daily crap that we all obsess over is high on the list. Some people choose therapy. Others drugs. For me, mountains provide that relief.

Here are a few pics from last weekends run along the 10,000' ridge in the San Bernardino Mountain range.

Standing in a bed of Thorns

Metal Bin Stores Sign in Journal - Mt. San Bernardino E

Trail Merge Sign - Morgan before her San Gorgornio Ascent 

Finding Beauty In Absurdity (While Traveling)

I woke this morning to the sound of a train. A large freight train, probably headed for some Midwest junction loaded with pallets of iron and steel to feed our staggering economy. It was 4:30 am (eastern standard time) when I looked down on the clanging string of box cars from my 18^th floor hotel room. It was still dark out and exactly 5 hours before my normal waking hour.

Over the years I’ve learned a little bit about running and traveling. The main thing is that all the sage advice I’ve received over the years, and all the sound training tips I’ve followed, when traveling, I can throw these things out the window.

Like getting enough sleep. I don’t know how many times I’ve read that I need 8 hours of sleep each night, especially when running a lot. It’s all about recovery they say. Hell, when I’m traveling, if I get 5 hours of sleep per night I’m not just feeling good, I’m feeling guilty. Trains, time zones, early flights, business dinners, meetings, jet lag, noisy hotel rooms, arid hotel rooms, caffeine, all of these things, they just suck the sleep right out of me.

Or eating a healthy, balanced diet. You know, the kind with lots of fruits and vegetables, protein, not too much fat and always enough fiber. Ehhh…on the road? Does red wine, New York strip steak, mashed potatoes, gravy and crème brulee qualify as a balanced training meal? Maybe for a Henry the Eighth jousting battle but probably not for the next 100k. I know, I need to be more creative with my meals. But I’m traveling in the mid west people!

Another is getting quality workouts. This one is a joke. Just when I’m supposed to be doing hill training to prepare for a race in the mountains, I’m running on bike path next to a river in Ohio. When I’m supposed to be building my skill on technical trails riddled with rocks, I’m running through an airport terminal trying to avoid security. It sounds absurd, but there is a certain beauty in absurdity. And, yes, I’m proud to have been stopped by airport security on more than one occasion! For me, it doesn't really matter—whether I’m training after a good night’s sleep and a helping of barley juice on a pristine trail overlooking some awe-inspiring mountain range, or red eyed with indigestion in the airport parking garage in Chicago, I’m still running. 

If I have the right perspective, I often find there are just as many interesting things to experience when running in less ideal places and conditions. In fact, when traveling, I find these unfamiliar places often have a little more flavor—with a little more indigestion, of course.

Being Escorted By Airport Security

Keep it real runners! 

Ultra Trail Mont Blanc - Finding Vertical

For every 1,000 feet I climbed at my first 100 mile race, Western States, I will climb 1,700 feet at UTMB. Compared to my last 100 mile event, Angeles Crest, where I climbed 19,000 feet, I will have to climb an additional 11,700 feet at UTMB.  

There is a total of 30,839 feet of ascent at UTMB. Over 60,000 total elevation change. To put that in perspective, that is 300 feet per mile of climbing. I’ve been measuring my training runs in the last few months, trying to come close to this. What I’ve learned is that it’s not only difficult to train in this much vertical, it’s hard to find it! I live in a pretty hilly area. I don’t have to go far to string together a long run with what I thought was a lot of elevation change. What I’ve found, however, is to achieve 300 feet per mile of climbing, I have to be running (and hiking) steep hills, up and down, all the time. No flat sections in between.

Looks like I’ll be spending a lot more time in the Santa Ana and San Bernardino Mountains in the next couple months...finding vertical.  

Capitol Peak 50 Mile: Face Down in Mud and Tequila

I signed up for this race looking for something new. A new course. A new state. A whole new experience. When I crossed the finish line covered in mud, dazed and light headed, I realized l got my wish.

The Capitol Peak 50 mile ultra run takes place in Capitol State Forest, a 90,000 acre state-run park located on Washington state’s Olympic Peninsula. It is a multi-use forest with active logging operations and hunting. That’s right, logging and hunting. I heard the some weird noises out there. Loud noises. Now I know why.

Being a So Cal runner I pride myself on running through the elements. You know, heat and dehydration. Some mountains, a rattlesnake or two. I knew Capitol Peak 50 would be a little different. Cool, wet and far from home.

One of the things I noticed right away about this forest was the green. Green leaves, green tree trunks. Green tree branches. Green ground. Everything green. It was surreal. Like running in a ginormous terrarium.

The race started under a typical gloomy northwest sky and meandered beneath thick forest canopies, along several high ridges and through some open meadows. With a total elevation gain of over 7,000 feet, this was a gorgeous course. Chalk full of scenery you will only find in the Pacific rain forest. But beneath the beauty lurked one deviant beast...the mud.

To summarize here, one moment I was laughing out loud, another moment I was screaming expletives. Arms flailing and out of control, then on all fours groveling over wet brown grime. Getting traction was easy, until you lost it. Run…walk…slide…flail…contort. Run again. It was fun, frustrating and at times frightening. All rolled into one ball of something new. It must be why I perked up when someone yelled tequila shots! at the mile 42 aid station. I looked over at some party girls standing next to a make shift mariachi bar. I’m pretty sure I said not for me and what the hell in the same breath! Have you ever had a tequila shot when your heart rate has been 150 bpm or higher for over 7 hours? It’s a whole different kind of buzz. Cringe! Then back to the slippery slope.

Despite many slips, stumbles and mud hugging slides, I still hadn’t gone down hard. In fact I was feeling a little victorious around mile 48. And it was right about then that I recall a loud screech and the air rapidly exiting my lungs. Blink. I’m face down in the mud gasping for air.


To my body's regret, my mission to find a whole new experience was accomplished. But my conversation with local runner Gavin Woody after the finish said it all. Gavin and I ran together for much of the couse. I mentioned out of the blue I was training for UTMB in France this August. Turns out he's running UTMB too. Still recovering from my face plant, I asked Gavin what he thought about all the mud on the course. "Oh that was mild, he says. "You should come up here when we get some real mud." 


No Thanks.  

Time: 8:48:02. Place: 16^th  overall. Third age group. 

My Weaknesses

It has been said that while pursuing knowledge, one accumulates a little more each day. While pursuing the truth, one takes away a little more each day.

Many of the things we learn - our fears, insecurities, anxieties, self limitations - our weaknesses - we teach ourselves over a lifetime. The seeds of who we become are sown in our own life's experiences, and the water that nourishes them is our own imagination. Something happens to you when you are a child. A bad experience. A good one. Maybe a frightening one. Then life moves on, and you adapt. Maybe for the better. Or, maybe for the worse.

Which brings me back to weakness. Or more specifically, my weaknesses. I'm not fretting here, because we all have them. The question that I ask myself sometimes is whether I am aware of my weaknesses. Or do I keep them stuffed in a little box inside of me like a jack-in-the-box, winding them tighter and tighter every day until, heaven forbid, one bursts open and surprises the hell out of me. It's happened.

I wish I could say that I've dealt with all my weaknesses head on. But the truth is I haven't. Which brings me back to running. There is something about running, it's effect on the weaker side of who I am, that makes me want to come back to it. Because when I run, my fear of failure, my longing for vain and selfish things, the insecurities that lurk inside of me that I may never conquer, my faults and my failures - all these things - they just melt away. 

Fresh Tracks

After a winter of very little snow in the Southern California Mountains this year mother nature showed a little bit of kindness to the mountain resorts. Big Bear got several inches of snow Tuesday and several more inches are expected tomorrow.

After putting some fresh tracks down on the slopes yesterday, I put down some fresh tracks on trail this morning. There is nothing like being out on a mountain trail covered in fresh snow under a clear blue sky, in total solitude. If nothing else, its good training for the mind. I suppose training on snow is good when I might have to deal with it during a race.

It looks like its going to be UTMB in France for me in August!

Running Through Turd Blossoms

Following a frustrating month of February when I injured my groin (doing too much too fast), March looked like it was going to be another disappointing month. I didn’t have enough real training time and had to cancel my entry to run Old Goat 50 miler. This was a set back for me, mostly because I pride myself on running and training smart and avoiding stupid training mistakes.

Suffice it to say when March rolled around I looked down and felt like I was standing in a field of proverbial turds. Not able to run, I began the month only able to cross train -  cycle, elliptical and the like. I was feeling down, broken, dejected.

It has been said that sometimes flowers grow from turds. Turd blossoms, as they are known in Texas, rise up from the most despicable conditions; conditions that make grown men cower, even cringe. How is this so? How does a beautiful flower grow from a pile of cow dung?

As the month progressed, I simply focused on hours instead of miles. Sure, I wasn’t running for several days on end, but I was getting my hours in. By the second week I was able to do some climbing and easy running. By the third week things started to fall into place. The groin injury moved from the left to the right side and now just lingers in the background. March results? 64 hours, 237 running miles, 60 elliptical miles and 30,000 feet of climbing.

What does all this have to do with turds and blossoms? First off, I think things happen for a reason. As runners, all of us should understand that our bodies are servants of the mind. When the mind makes demands, the body responds. When the mind demands too much, the body, like any servant, breaks down. Then the mind is taught a valuable lesson -  to listen and to respect the body. From this messy process grows something quite stunning.    

The Wolf

Photo by Devon C

I think its time I take my own advice. More specifically numbers 1, 3 and 9. Maybe even take a closer look at number 5. Things got a little stale for me this week. Kind of like eh…run? Today? Not. 

Sometimes it just happens and, just like that, I let it. Like the little pig once said, work and play don’t mix. Who’s that at my door? I know you are there. Will you please go away? Ok, I know, you are just a metaphor of mine. Do you have to growl so much? I can hear you already! Ok, it’s alright. I’m not afraid. 

It’s me again.

Time to turn the page. 

Yours,


At 38,594' somewhere over Kansas. 

A Running Streak. 812 Days and Counting...

By Bino M. 

I’m not Will, as a matter of fact, we are miles apart.  Not to mention, he’s much better looking.  You see, he’s a thinker and I’m a stinker. What we do have in common is the love of running.  I love, not only running, but watching, talking and reading about running.  However, my running has no plan.  Will's (or Willie is what I call ‘em) does.  My runs aren’t scheduled.  Distance unplanned, pace who knows, time who cares.  This would not work with the cerebral or the thinking man.

What I do know is I will run today and tomorrow for sure.  I’m a numbers guy.  You probably know someone like me. A  mileage junkie! The road is my friend. I count everything.  Today is #812 of consecutive days running (6,780 miles). The occasional five  miles is the minimum, however the average is 8.3 for the streak, and the most was a 115 miler that was good enough for first place in the 2010 Nanny Goat 24 hour endurance challenge. 

My O.C.D. was ruining my marriage so I fixed it.  I got my wife on a running streak (she is 65 days behind me), all is good in Camelot.  Whether it’s 5 or 25, I run everyday.  It started with another attempt at a Jan.1^st fresh start, trying only for 365 days.  Now I not only want to run until “The End," but that day too.  It’s become larger than life, bigger than me.  My family and friends question my motive and my sanity. Is there any logic to this? I don’t know.  What I do know, is that  I will run today and tomorrow for sure.  I can’t stop....That would kill me!  Gee, for the first time I think I see a problem, “I love it”.  My previous streak was 9 days, years ago.  I spend way too much time working the streak, monitoring and worrying  about this streak.  This isn’t that free and easy running that the masses subscribe to.  This is the self induced high pressure, no fun, day in and day out battle of the mind & body that will no doubt lead to a DNF from this “Main Street Marathon." Again, I  love it!!!

As for tomorrow’s pace, who knows, the distance who cares, tapers, splits or LSD?  Could care less. What I do know is I will run at least 5 miles (probably 10 – 12) and enjoy every step of the way, and then....? Think about the next run. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it! I love running.....every day!