The RATS

Tuesday night softball. Crack. A ball is hit to the gap between center and left field. It is going to drop for sure. I speed towards it. The centerfielder does to. It is going to hit between us and roll. There is no way I can get to it in time. But then again, maybe I can. I shout, “Mine!” and dive just as the centerfielder extends. We collide in a hit worthy of ESPN highlights. The problem: I cannot walk.

Throw on top of that a cold and dead legs from the 35 miler the week before and you have the most unideal setting for a 50 miler. Days of icing and motrin left me still unable to run but the walk moved from a crutch to a hobble, and finally a limp by race morning. I had never been so uninspired for a run. I didn’t pack a GU, baby powder the feet, or Vaseline the bad areas. I just walked to the line 2 minutes before the gun, resolved to run to the end of the dirt road and back. I hobbled my way up the road in complete pain, head down, disappointed that I would DNF another race out of stupid circumstances. But at the road I resolved to go to the first aid station and back. At 6 miles, I figured I could make a lap of 25 miles out of it. At the end of the lap, I just kept going.

The first 25 miles of the race went fairly well for a wounded guy. I kept it slow, promising to learn the pace of the ultra. I ate and hydrated along the most beautiful course I have run. The Colorado River snaked through red-rock canons with green mountains and tall mesas. It was inspiring. When I rolled into the finish line of 25 miles, my buddy Michael cheered me in. He was shocked when I said I was going for it.

Miles later that would prove to be a costly decision. After descending for several miles to the start/finish, runners headed up to the top of the mesa immediately. Luckily, my time was spent chatting with an elite mountain biker running his first 50. We climbed for a while and left the 50K aid station in good spirits. But around 34 miles, I fell behind on a climb and really began to struggle. I was out of water and the heat was building. Instead of clouds and rain like the forecast predicted, we had a hot sun baking us every step of the run. It was hard to tell if my current problems were related to not having enough water or under training. I had been carrying a Camelbak all day. I had done long runs. I wasn’t sure why I was struggling so badly after starting so conservatively. I limped over every rock and was limited to running no more than 50 meters at a time. A team of mountain bikers stopped and let me take a few pulls from their Camelbak and gave me Gu to eat. What felt like an hour later, I jogged in to the aid station and sucked down 40oz of water.

The next 3+ miles were bliss. I was hauling, running nearly the whole stretch. It was the ultimate runner’s high and I had made 41 miles. But leaving the aid station started 3 miles of pain which took far longer than is acceptable. For 44 miles I had favored my right leg and every other part of my body was screaming at me. At the last aid station, a man was sitting down and another was leaving. It was odd to see runners after having not seen anyone for 20 miles. But they both left before I could refuel. The kind volunteer told me it was just a 10k to go and that was nothing! I laughed and looked at the road, then 1000ft. to the top of the mesa and back to the road. If the run were down that road, I told him, it would be no problem. After clipping on my pack my parting words were, “If sitting in this chair were finishing, I’d be the winner.” Then I was off.

Words cannot capture the misery and pain of the next 2 hours. The hike to the summit were the most painful three miles of my career. When the knot in my calf subsided, the nausea started. When that faded, the quads barked. I hated every step. But not as much as I hated the downs. Every switchback was torture, every rock a wall. Then I got off trail, and let me assure you that scrambling down a 50ft slope at 47 miles isn’t a great idea on legs that cannot break. When I finally hit the road, I nearly stopped, feeling as if that were the finish line and the rest was a formality.

But the worst pain was the foot. Every step for 7 hours placed a rock perfectly in the middle of my foot, and pain radiated through my leg. It was like being pricked with a pin once per second for an entire work day. I was going insane from the repeated stabbing. It was the worst feeling in running I have ever had.

Upon crossing the finish line, Brooks greeted me, amazed since he figured I wouldn’t have gone back out (considering he had about 5 miles on me at the turnaround). We talked while resting in chairs and munching on pizza. I was more proud of that finish than of any other single day event in my life. All things being equal:

Could I have finished in the top 10? Yes

Could I have run a PR? Yes

Could I have quit? Yes

But I didn’t. And that’s the only possibility that mattered.

The Worst Day Since Yesterday

Also Known as: How to Run a Marathon on 220 Calories, Part II

As if your kid throwing up on you all night isn’t enough, just a mere hour of sleep should leave you less than psyched about traveling across the country for a marathon. I arrived in Atlanta tired, ill, and ready to go home, not race. After getting my packet and lunch, I spent most of the day watching basketball. Dinner was in at the hotel. Pretty much a typical pre-race day.

Until 2am that is. Then I was up puking gobs of undigested food into the sink (Sorry Wyndham Hotel). My stomach was so full I could barely breathe and I slept none from then on, returning frequently to make a deposit. I awoke, tried to eat one flake of Raisin Bran, and returned to the sink for another bout. No breakfast or liquids would go in. It was going to be a long day.

Originally, I had wanted to go sub-3 hours. But when I discovered the fastest pace group was 3:40, I thought about backing off (hard to hit a pace alone that is a good 1:30 per mile faster than your daily runs). So I thought about 3:03:30 (7min/mile) but when the puking started, I changed to 3:10. After a quick dump in the bushes, I hit the start line, and within 30 seconds I knew finishing would be the only goal.

I always say that you should feel awesome through 10, good through 15, and able through 18 or you are in big trouble in the marathon. As I crossed mile 1, I felt like I was in a 5K, and by mile marker 2 I would have sworn that I just ran 20 miles. I was sweating, heaving, and felt like I was sprinting (I was running with the 1:35 half-marathon group since the courses were the same for the first 7 miles). The pace was all over the place (7:07; 6:51; 7:22) so I just chilled and kept them in sight, feeling much more stable at 10 seconds a mile slower.

The rain started at about mile 4, and then the winds picked up. It was chilly and I was throwing up little bits every 2 miles or so. But the real kicker was the hills. Never have I run such a hilly urban marathon. Long uphills were followed by bombing downhills. It was amazing how difficult the course was. But despite the hills, I was holding a relatively even, and decent pace (call in Colorado training). I crossed the half in 3:12 pace and was actually feeling better than the start. Then the hills fought back.

I couldn’t believe the course! It never stopped. People passed me on the hills since pushing made me feel ill. I held on and kept moving up, even started passing people. By 22, there was a mile long out and back section and I could see about 30 people ahead of me. All of them looked like death, and those who weren’t walking the downhills looked like they wanted to. I pushed on and was told I was in 82nd place at 23 miles. The last few miles were painful as they snaked through the hills around the finish line. I caught more and more people and tried to run with form and experience. I finished in about 67th place in 3:14. I was amazed.

Medal around my neck, I blew past the solar blankets and past the food (not that I wanted it, to my bag and out to the street where Sarah was picking me up (from finish line to bag drop amongst 18000 people in 7.5 minutes, a new record). We bolted to the airport, I hauled bags, returned the car, ran to the terminal, only to find our flight was delayed. After 4 hours we made it to West Palm, rented a car, drove to Vero, and on to Orlando. So I woke at 2am, ran a marathon, traveled for 10 hours, all on just two 100 calorie GU shots during the race, both of which I threw up during. The burger that evening when my stomach finally relented was amazing.

A Run Through Time

A Run Through Time might imply the race passes numerous sights from a variety of time periods. However, if you want to run this race in Salida, CO, be ready to run through time, literally. In fact, at some points, time might even stand still. This course ascends into the sky and rolls through the woods where no person would dare to go most parts of the year.

An 8-mile dirt road never relents as it climbs up and up. If there was any grace in the race director’s heart, it would turn there. Instead it turns to ice and a series of roller-coaster hill go to an out and back. It would be nice if the roads didn’t have 6-inches of mud on every long climb and blistering descent.

I started slow, hearing about the course from Leadville stud runner (19:33)Harry Harcrow. Not wanting to get out too fast, I held back and passed my man Brooks at about 3 miles. I continued up and eventually formed a group with JT, Harry, and Ross from Salida. We sloshed through the mud and water until the aid station around 13 miles. I was in about 13th place and we jostled places with a few guys on the way back to the turn off. A long downhill section cranked the legs a little bit but we hit 17.2 as a group of 4. JT and another guy pulled away on the long ice hills while Harry and I walked. When Harry fell back, I decided to go after JT.

Unfortunately, the last 9 miles of the course easily eclipsed the first 17 as the worst section. A snow cat had driven up the hill leaving rutted tire tracks in 2 feet of snow. Awkward footing made me keep kicking the inside of my leg so hard I ended up with cuts on my calf muscles. When there wasn’t snow, there was mud...inches of black, slippery mud. And often, the mud had rocks in it causing ankle rolls every few seconds. There was no rhythm in the run and it took me a long time to catch up to JT. We chatted for a few and I bounded down the hill.

The last 3 miles were pain. All of it was downhill on a dirt road. My legs screamed for the bottom with every switchback turn. I saw a guy ahead of me but I knew that with the time left there was no way of catching him. I crossed in just under 3:55, good for 11th place. I had run very conservative and probably could have gone 10 min faster and a few places better if I pushed the earlier miles, but I needed to be smart. The course was unknown to me (except that it was hard), and I had another marathon the following weekend. I had done 20+ mile long runs the preceding 3 weeks and I am training through. So all in all, a great day. Tim Parr, Andy Henshaw, Nick Clark, and Ryan Birch took the top 4 spots, and losing to those guys is more than acceptable!

South Africa in the Mix

New big news! The family is moving to South Africa. A good group of running clubs await in Johannesburg along with trails, safaris, Great White Sharks, and other dangerous creatures.

The setback: My dream of redemption at Leadville 100 is over. But I am ok with it because I have finished there before.  Now the door is open for another race that was left unfinished.  So on June 5th, I will return to Kettle Moraine 100 to face the humidity and hills again.

The rest of the season remains largely unchanged with a few exceptions.  Next week I am off to Arizona for the Pemberton 50k. It should be a tough one since I have been sick, not running a lot, and facing gods like Ian Torrence.  In March, I will still run back-to-back marathons and then a 50 in April in Colorado.  I am toying with May. I will likely drop a 50k and 52.4 mi in place of some training runs. I'll keep a marathon in the middle of May but it all is turning to KM 100 in June.

Then the new baby will come.  I still have the Leadville Marathon and probably a 50 miler in July before heading out to South Africa.  I am excited about all of the racing opportunities there.  It looks like I can run many races from 5K to 100mi within South Africa. More news to come but absolutely going to be going after the Big 5 marathon, Comrades, and an Ironman while I am there!

Kicking Off 2010

With a big year ahead, the first race of the year is in the bag, and it was a good one. The weather in Phoenix was fantastic, staying in the low 50s. I rolled through the PF Chang’s Rock N’ Roll marathon like it was a Sunday jog. Determined to get a Boston qualifying time, I stayed with the 3:10 pace group for 20 miles. At that point the pacer wanted to back it off but a few of us just wanted to hold the pace. Soon just one guy and I remained and I encouraged him with me to the line in 3:09. It was a 20 min PR for him and I had my time in the first race of the year. It was the easiest race I have ever run – no pain, no struggle. Finished open marathon #25.

In February, I head back to Arizona for a fast 50K. Then in March, I am going to central Colorado for a very hilly marathon. Just a week later it is off to Georgia for another marathon. These shorter, faster races will provide a good speed base for the spring and summer.

In April, the first real test awaits. The Desert RATS 50 miler will provide top-notch competition over difficult terrain. I expect hard trail, and a long day at altitude and in the sun will prove valuable for the summer. Scarcely two weeks later is another 50k, and I am toying with this race. Regardless, in mid-May is another marathon in the mountains. I expect to run hard and place well.

Another short two weeks after that is Memorial Day, and I am heading to Wyoming for a double marathon. It is the same course that I won on a few years ago. Now I just have to do it twice. 52.4 miles will be the longest test of the year leading up to the race.

June is going to be free of races due to a new baby joining us, but without having to work, I will be able to run more trail and longer than usual. July dawns with a serious challenge – the Leadville Marathon. It rockets into the clouds and promises to be a slow, difficult grind. Finally, I am off to southern Colorado for a 50K to end my preparation. Again, I hope to run very well here and end the training on a good note.

It all leads up to the Leadville 100 on August 21. After a finish in 2006 and a DNF in 2009, I want nothing more than to rock this one. My goal is sub-21 hours. I was on this pace during the 2009 race and I am itching to get the sweatshirt to prove it. In addition to the race schedule announced, the main component of my training will be trail runs. Between Team CRUD and the Incline Club, there are more than enough runs near here to simulate the race. I have two trips planned to Leadville for reconnaissance: A double crossing (20 miles) of Hope Pass followed by the Colorado Trail, and a darkness traverse of Sugarloaf Mountain. These are the Crux of the race and I need to really know them. I also am lifting about twice a week and focusing on core several times a week. I will be more ready than ever before.

Winter Running Achievements

A season shouldn’t be defined by the final race. A few jaunts in the winter woods have both humbled me and provided confidence for the upcoming year. The final race of the Pikes Peak Road Runners Fall Series was in Palmer Park just after a major snow. What was normally a 7+ mile loop was reduced to about 5 miles due to icy conditions on the rocks. My race started a tad aggressively since I expected to enter trails immediately. Instead, ¾ of a mile later, we were still going uphill on the long park road. By the summit I was gassed, and continued to go backward from there. Rather than pass people, I was the victim as many runners cruised by. I struggled to the finish line barely able to hold on to a top 30 placing. My buddy Steve was under a minute behind me, indicating a very excellent race on his part, and a not-so-good race by me.

A few weeks later we ran the Turkey Trot Predict the Saturday before Thanksgiving. This race had runners predict their time, and leave the starting line when their time posted, thereby having everyone (theoretically) hit the finish at the same time. I put 19:36, having not raced a 5K in years. When my time came, my name was announced and off I went. It was like the Tour de France with people cheering as you rolled out on the course. Almost instantly I caught the people who had left ahead of me and all idea of pace was out the window. I rolled up on Steve who had more than 1:30 in hand, and by. The end was chaos as hundreds of runners approached the finish. I crossed in 19:06, surprised I was able to run the pace with no speed work. I was way off the time! Sarah rolled in just under 3 seconds off for 8th place. Our friend, Susan, took home 2nd and a turkey!

Deciding to test my ultra skills, I went to the infamous Incline in Manitou Springs. Just enter "Manitou Incline" into Yahoo! Images search and see what the hype is about.  This one-mile long trail of railroad ties rockets 2000’ into the clouds at an average gradient of 41%. I started strong and soon started a suffer slog of lactic-acid in my teeth and death in my legs. The maximum incline is 68% requiring the use of all four appendages. It was a nightmare! But I crossed in 25:40, an excellent time and a desire to try it again in better shape and without snow on it! But the real kicker is the 4-mile bomb down Barr Trail. After falling once on the ice and nearly dying, I was glad to be done.

I joined Matt Carpenter’s Incline Club for some trail training. Rather than embarrass myself the first week, Steve took me up the route the week before. The run up Ute Pass trail was gnarly and required a lot of walking. But ultimately you gain the trail to Waldo Canyon and are rewarded with amazing views before looping back. I ran out of fuel and struggled all the way in. This was a really hard run taking 2:44 for 15 miles!

The following weekend I invited Michael Trahan down for the Incline Club. We started with 135 other trail runners up the road and out the trail. Our goal was to pace well and we slowly gained on those ahead of us. We made a game out of catching those ahead of us and staying ahead. The Waldo loop was very icy and it was cloudy. We ran very solid and finished back at the car in 2:16, nearly half an hour faster than the previous week! Only Matt and one other guy finished the route faster than us.

The next weekend I entered the Rock Canyon Half Marathon in Pueblo. It was amazingly cold leading up to the race (below O), but I still stripped down to shorts for the gun. The pace went out pretty fast, dropping from 6:30, to 6:20 over the first three miles. I thought this was too fast given my sub-1:30 goal for the day, but I just tucked in the pack. It blew up at three miles so I took over chipping at the field ahead of me. I was in about 23rd place and kept running in the 6:30s. People just kept coming back. I ran with experience and was never passed in the whole race. At mile 10 I came up on a guy with his arms flailing and legs twisted. As soon as I went by, he surged to stay with me. “Fine,” I thought to myself. “Burn yourself out.” But 30 seconds later he was still there. I figured if I wasn’t going to shake him, I might as well help him. So I told him to stand up more, relax the shoulders, and stop surging. He did and stayed with me. When he faltered, I would correct him. After all, he was only 18. He had been on the state championship XC team and was off to Arizona State in the fall. We rolled past people left and right in the final miles, going 6:22 and 6:16 uphill into the wind. He urged me to go with him as we passed a runner, but I just laughed knowing that I only had one gear. Soon I caught him anyway and had to push him on. At the end of the monstrously hilly 13th mile (which we ran in 6:31), I told him not to let two old men out kick him and he was gone. I maintained and crossed in 11th place with a time of 1:24:59, winning my age group. I was ecstatic with the pace (6:29 per mile) since I had only run 6:09’s for my 5K. Due to the stomach, I hadn't run more than 3-4 days a week for about three months. Now I am up to 6 days a week, yet only about 35-43 miles a week. With no speed work this early in the season, good things will come.

I have a fast half marathon under my belt, a good time on the Incline, and some excellent trail experience. 2010 should provide some excellent races.

Dude! So What’s Up with Your Stomach?

Time to talk about what has been going on. It started at mile 42 of Leadville. BAM! Instantly I couldn’t run anymore. The next two week s were filled with frustration from a DNF, mild nausea, and some discomfort. Then I went to the American Discovery Trail Marathon. Despite being on-pace for my goal at mile 21, I was crippled to a jog with stomach shut down.

I took a week off of running and scheduled a doctor’s visit. He thought I had a gastric ulcer. After sticking his finger in a place where no man should touch me, I was put on ulcer medication. That night was spent doubled over in pain with no sleep. I had cramping, sharp pains, and fullness. For 11 weeks, I could not eat a reasonably sized meal without feeling completely stuffed. I was never hungry anymore. A glass of beer would spoil my appetite for the entire evening. Many nights I would just skip dinner all together.

I went to the Denver Marathon with a goal of taking a Boston qualifier home. Everything was fine for about 20 miles, then it got hard, as marathons should. But at about 22 miles, I was throwing up stomach acid and slowing. The last mile killed me and I missed my time by a mere minute and 30 seconds.

Eventually, I was seen for an endoscopy to confirm the ulcer, but it came out clean. I was referred for an ultrasound to check gall stones, gall bladder lining, and other gastrointestinal structures. Again, it was clean. So I continued on the medication for a few more weeks. Then it ran out.

My dad recommended Probiotics to help set the digestive system straight. I was skeptical but I was looking for anything to change this feeling. I don’t want to jump the gun, but so far, so good. I haven’t had the full feeling, I am able to eat reasonably, and although I haven’t run a marathon since starting treatment, I haven’t puked or had stomach problems. I am looking for things to improve gradually on this treatment and return to the doctor if there isn’t a significant change. 2010 looms with a lot of tough runs and I need to be set straight.