So, training has officially begun for the Arkansas Traveller 100!
For the past few weeks I've been running six miles a day, pretty consistently. Yesterday was day one of the twenty-four week plan. Work was closed due to horrible floods in Houston, so I did ten miles in the morning. Already ahead of schedule!
Onward!
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Starting Over
So it has been over a year since my hamstring injury at the 2015 Bandera 100k. After nine months out, my running has been limited and inconsistent. I finished the Wild Hare and Bandera 50ks, not because I was trained but really just shuffling through them. Work demands have kept my running schedule sporadic at best. Plus I really just felt burnt out in general.
But I feel it is time for a change. I want to get strong again. The pain in my hamstring, right behind the knee, is still there at a low level. A doctor said it is capsulitis, but I'm not sure anyone knows what it really is. Regardless, I want to train.
So my plan is to begin regular running as of now, and build up to the Captain Karl's 60k series this summer. If all goes well, I can use these as training races for Cactus Rose 100 in October. If I fall again to injury, so be it.
We'll see what happens...
But I feel it is time for a change. I want to get strong again. The pain in my hamstring, right behind the knee, is still there at a low level. A doctor said it is capsulitis, but I'm not sure anyone knows what it really is. Regardless, I want to train.
So my plan is to begin regular running as of now, and build up to the Captain Karl's 60k series this summer. If all goes well, I can use these as training races for Cactus Rose 100 in October. If I fall again to injury, so be it.
We'll see what happens...
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Wild Hare 50k
The Background
It's been quite awhile since I last posted, and a lot has happened. 2015 has been my toughest year as a runner, but thankfully has ended on an up note.
The troubles began at the 2015 Bandera 100k. A cold, muddy and icy race, it was slip-sliding all the way. By mile 48 I could no longer bend my left knee and had to drop. I believe this injury was a combination of the rough conditions, years of over racing and not taking good enough care of myself. When I was younger, I could eat junk, train a 100 miles a week, and race an ultra every month, but now entering the second half of my 30s gives me cause to reassess.
I was already signed up to race the Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler three weeks later . I ran not a step between Bandera and Rocky, ran 40 miles on race day, then the hamstring forced me to drop.
What followed turned out to be months sidelined with flaring hamstring pain and physical therapy.
Pretty much every step walking hurt and the healing process seemed excruciatingly slow.
In March, the principal at the campus where I served as AP announced she was leaving. I did not want to stay to see who would replace her next year, so I went looking for a job. The stress of this time really illustrated how much I relied on running for peace.
By the end of July I'd found a job writing curriculum for HISD, and the day before I signed my contract my doctor cleared me to run again.
In the eight months of no running, I'd gained 15 pounds and fallen into an unhealthy diet. It felt like my body was decomposing. My first run, I could barely make it through a mike and a half.
I slowly upped my mileage and set my sights in the Rough Creek Half Marathon in September. The 2012 Rough Creek 40 Miler had been my first ultra finish and I'd run the race every year since. The 40 miler was out of the question, but I wanted to try the half as this would be the final running of Rough Creek. I managed to finish in about three hours.
My new job kept me busy, so my plans of transitioning into ultra training fell by the wayside. By November I felt I needed to shake things up. I signed up for the Wild Hare 50k a week before the race, with no so much as a ten miler in the past two months.
The Race
The Wild Hare 50k would consist of four 7.8 mile loops. The first couple of miles is twisty, turny bike trails. The conditions were muddy requiring wading through water up to your knees. Then follows some roller coaster ridge running, before breaking through to open fields.
The first loop was uneventful; I felt happy to be back in an ultra and was taking the pace easy. In the second loop I slowed considerably. Often on runs I'll sort out work problems in my head, but for the first time in a race I fell deeply into thought about a project. Thankfully, this slowed my pace and left me something for the finish.
By the third loop, my legs were pretty sore. I'd run the race well but I could feel the lack of long training runs. I went into a mini low point but nothing major.
Beginning the fourth loop, a runner said hello to me and soon we fell into conversation, using talk to escape the mind games that can plague the final miles of a race. We separated a few miles before the finish but by that time I was just excited about the prospect of completing an ultra after a season of injury.
Crossing the finish line was emotional for me. After months of pain, frustration, and depression, I was an ultra runner again.
Reflections
This year taught me how much I'd taken running for granted. I need to take a healthy dose of moderation in my running from here on out, as I'd rather race less than face injury again. On the other hand, this year taught me that I'm not the invincible runner I thought I was, and injury needs to be taken with stoicism. It will come again and needs to be thought of as part of the process of a running life.
Nevertheless, I'm thrilled to be running again. I'm not 100% and the hamstring still is inflamed at times. But I've learned to think of what running I can manage as a gift and I'm thankful.
It's been quite awhile since I last posted, and a lot has happened. 2015 has been my toughest year as a runner, but thankfully has ended on an up note.
The troubles began at the 2015 Bandera 100k. A cold, muddy and icy race, it was slip-sliding all the way. By mile 48 I could no longer bend my left knee and had to drop. I believe this injury was a combination of the rough conditions, years of over racing and not taking good enough care of myself. When I was younger, I could eat junk, train a 100 miles a week, and race an ultra every month, but now entering the second half of my 30s gives me cause to reassess.
I was already signed up to race the Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler three weeks later . I ran not a step between Bandera and Rocky, ran 40 miles on race day, then the hamstring forced me to drop.
What followed turned out to be months sidelined with flaring hamstring pain and physical therapy.
Pretty much every step walking hurt and the healing process seemed excruciatingly slow.
In March, the principal at the campus where I served as AP announced she was leaving. I did not want to stay to see who would replace her next year, so I went looking for a job. The stress of this time really illustrated how much I relied on running for peace.
By the end of July I'd found a job writing curriculum for HISD, and the day before I signed my contract my doctor cleared me to run again.
In the eight months of no running, I'd gained 15 pounds and fallen into an unhealthy diet. It felt like my body was decomposing. My first run, I could barely make it through a mike and a half.
I slowly upped my mileage and set my sights in the Rough Creek Half Marathon in September. The 2012 Rough Creek 40 Miler had been my first ultra finish and I'd run the race every year since. The 40 miler was out of the question, but I wanted to try the half as this would be the final running of Rough Creek. I managed to finish in about three hours.
My new job kept me busy, so my plans of transitioning into ultra training fell by the wayside. By November I felt I needed to shake things up. I signed up for the Wild Hare 50k a week before the race, with no so much as a ten miler in the past two months.
The Race
Prerace
The Wild Hare 50k would consist of four 7.8 mile loops. The first couple of miles is twisty, turny bike trails. The conditions were muddy requiring wading through water up to your knees. Then follows some roller coaster ridge running, before breaking through to open fields.
The first loop was uneventful; I felt happy to be back in an ultra and was taking the pace easy. In the second loop I slowed considerably. Often on runs I'll sort out work problems in my head, but for the first time in a race I fell deeply into thought about a project. Thankfully, this slowed my pace and left me something for the finish.
By the third loop, my legs were pretty sore. I'd run the race well but I could feel the lack of long training runs. I went into a mini low point but nothing major.
Beginning the fourth loop, a runner said hello to me and soon we fell into conversation, using talk to escape the mind games that can plague the final miles of a race. We separated a few miles before the finish but by that time I was just excited about the prospect of completing an ultra after a season of injury.
Crossing the finish line was emotional for me. After months of pain, frustration, and depression, I was an ultra runner again.
Reflections
This year taught me how much I'd taken running for granted. I need to take a healthy dose of moderation in my running from here on out, as I'd rather race less than face injury again. On the other hand, this year taught me that I'm not the invincible runner I thought I was, and injury needs to be taken with stoicism. It will come again and needs to be thought of as part of the process of a running life.
Nevertheless, I'm thrilled to be running again. I'm not 100% and the hamstring still is inflamed at times. But I've learned to think of what running I can manage as a gift and I'm thankful.
Monday, October 27, 2014
2014 Cactus Rose 100 Race Report
The Background
I had no idea if I'd adequately prepared for Cactus Rose in the weeks before the race. A sprained ankle had cut a week and a half out of the heart of the training season and my one training race, the Rough Creek 40 miler, had been a slog. I had become much less obsessive about my training this year, running more by feel, not carrying GPS, not logging my miles. Running and racing is becoming less competitive for me and more of a spiritual exercise, a chance to practice mindfulness, connect with nature and the universe, and test my limits. Sure, I still like to look at race results and chase down headlamps, but becoming less obsessive on results and more focused on the journey has led to a peaceful feeling of acceptance. If nothing else, stoicism helps when you're an average runner like me who tends to have major meltdowns at races.
That said, I did put in one long night run three weeks out from Cactus, a 32 miler in the George Mitchell Nature Preserve. I did 19 repeats of a mile and half loop then ran home. Heading out Friday after work as the sun set, the main goal was to experience the sleep deprivation that had plagued me at Rocky Raccoon 100. I cruised through the miles and never got sleepy, so the zombie factor was still a big question mark for Cactus.
I had planned to do one more 20 miler Sunday two weeks out from the race but I hurt my back moving a piano. The back pain went away in a day, luckily. I ran a ten miler the weekend before Cactus and that was it. This would be an experiment, to see if less structured training and a lot of rest would lead to me to perform well or crash and burn.
The Course
There is something magical and otherworldly about the Hill Country State Natural Area. The towering hills, rocky trails, and sotol patches feel like a combination of an old cowboy movie set and an alien planet.
Cactus Rose 100 is consists of four 25 mile loops with aid stations roughly five miles apart. The first loop aids go Lodge > Equestrian > Nachos > Equestrian > Boyles > Lodge. The first ten miles to Nachos, with the exception of the short climb up Lucky's Peak, is very runnable, though this being Bandera there are still a lot of rocks. Nachos > Equestrian gets tougher with Ice Cream Hill and a couple other climbs. Equestrian > Boyles is in my opinion the toughest stretch with many steep climbs like Three Sisters and Sky Island. Boyles > Lodge features the big climbs of Boyles Bump and Cairn's Climb. You can make good time on this section though because you run fairly smooth trail atop these hills and then there is a mile of runnable trail back to the lodge.
After each loop you reverse directions. That means for 100 milers miles 0-10, 40-60, and 90-100 are pretty runnable with tough sections of hills for miles 15-35 and 65-85.
The Race
My family and I camped in the field and I had trouble sleeping the night before the race. I got around three or four hours sleep, which was more than before Rocky Raccoon, but I was definitely nervous about Saturday night.
We headed out at 5am in a trail of headlamps into the dark hills. My strategy was to get through the first 50 miles feeling as good as possible. I ran very conservatively, letting people pass me, reminding myself to run my own race, finishing the first loop in 5:46. I had a mini low point at the beginning of the second loop, probably just because I was behind on my nutrition, but overall I was feeling fresh through around 35 miles.
This was to be the hottest year in race history with a high of 84. At Rough Creek 40 last month it was in the mid 90s with no shade, so that heat training would be of use. Still, as the midday sun beat down my energy drained and I went into another low.
At mile 50, I would pick up my music. This happened to be when the sun lowered in the sky, and the combination of the drop in heat and the Grateful Dead raised my spirits. I cruised and sang along into the night through mile 70 or so.
Then atop Boyles Bump the sleep fatigue set in. This time it was even worse than at Rocky. Becoming disorientated, I staggered along the trail. I lied down several times along a flat rock or simply on a mess of stones, trying to sleep for a minute or two. I couldn't sleep nor see how to continue. Wanting so badly to drop the race, I held in my mind my kids, not wanting them to see me as a quitter. I know that every ultrarunner has to face DNFs and there is no shame in pushing yourself to the limits and falling short of your dreams. But I knew the pain of giving up would be worse than enduring this light-headed zombie stagger.
Luckily, fellow runners came to my aid, as I chatted with a couple of folks along the trail, one of whom was in them same shape as I and hallucinating. We both made it to Boyles aid and tried to sleep. I lied down on the dirt with my pack as my pillow for maybe ten minutes, still unable to sleep.
At this point, I was at mile 80 at 6:00 or so in the morning. I knew then sun would soon rise and might revive me. Dreading to head out into the cold night, I shuffled out into the darkness.
As the rays of sun shone out over the hills of Bandera, my fatigue lifted and I rallied. I began running hard. I had dropped the music as my head couldn't handle it but instead I was inspired by the awesome beauty of the landscape and the power of nature. The ancient forces at work humbled me, the night bringing on sleep and the sun energy.
Wanting to make use of this surge to finish, as I battled the last 15 miles I would pick a runnable section, check my watch, and tell myself to run hard for ten minutes. Sometimes, at the end of ten I'd be going downhill and stretch it a little longer.
Finally, I made it over Lucky's Peak with a mile to the finish. I sprinted down the trail, overcome with emotion, and ran across the line with my kids. My time was 31:37.
For a middle of the pack runner like me, this race was about as good of a performance as I could have hoped for. I could definitely cut time by being more efficient at the aid stations. My goal for this race was just to finish and I sat and chugged coke and ate Pringles at the aid, which added up on the clock. This kept me going but for a race with a time goal I could cut this down by eating on the trail. And if I could figure out this sleep deprivation thing, either by simply getting a good night's sleep beforehand or coming up with a better coping strategy, that would help. But I didn't give up when things seemed lost and fought the whole way. At Rocky, I'd really only run hard the last five miles or so but here I ran steadily through sections in the last 50 miles.
Another reminder from this race was how decent and good most ultrarunners are. In addition to those who kept me sane during my sleep breakdown, a moment that stuck with me was when I arrived at Bandera, trying to set up my tent, get my family situated, then find the aid stations to place my drop bags in the dark. A guy named Chip walked me to Boyles and chatted with me, helping a total stranger for no reason. It's a great feeling to be part of our little community. To Joe, Joyce, Tejas Trails, all the volunteers and runners, thanks for helping me along the way.
I had no idea if I'd adequately prepared for Cactus Rose in the weeks before the race. A sprained ankle had cut a week and a half out of the heart of the training season and my one training race, the Rough Creek 40 miler, had been a slog. I had become much less obsessive about my training this year, running more by feel, not carrying GPS, not logging my miles. Running and racing is becoming less competitive for me and more of a spiritual exercise, a chance to practice mindfulness, connect with nature and the universe, and test my limits. Sure, I still like to look at race results and chase down headlamps, but becoming less obsessive on results and more focused on the journey has led to a peaceful feeling of acceptance. If nothing else, stoicism helps when you're an average runner like me who tends to have major meltdowns at races.
That said, I did put in one long night run three weeks out from Cactus, a 32 miler in the George Mitchell Nature Preserve. I did 19 repeats of a mile and half loop then ran home. Heading out Friday after work as the sun set, the main goal was to experience the sleep deprivation that had plagued me at Rocky Raccoon 100. I cruised through the miles and never got sleepy, so the zombie factor was still a big question mark for Cactus.
I had planned to do one more 20 miler Sunday two weeks out from the race but I hurt my back moving a piano. The back pain went away in a day, luckily. I ran a ten miler the weekend before Cactus and that was it. This would be an experiment, to see if less structured training and a lot of rest would lead to me to perform well or crash and burn.
The Course
There is something magical and otherworldly about the Hill Country State Natural Area. The towering hills, rocky trails, and sotol patches feel like a combination of an old cowboy movie set and an alien planet.
Cactus Rose 100 is consists of four 25 mile loops with aid stations roughly five miles apart. The first loop aids go Lodge > Equestrian > Nachos > Equestrian > Boyles > Lodge. The first ten miles to Nachos, with the exception of the short climb up Lucky's Peak, is very runnable, though this being Bandera there are still a lot of rocks. Nachos > Equestrian gets tougher with Ice Cream Hill and a couple other climbs. Equestrian > Boyles is in my opinion the toughest stretch with many steep climbs like Three Sisters and Sky Island. Boyles > Lodge features the big climbs of Boyles Bump and Cairn's Climb. You can make good time on this section though because you run fairly smooth trail atop these hills and then there is a mile of runnable trail back to the lodge.
After each loop you reverse directions. That means for 100 milers miles 0-10, 40-60, and 90-100 are pretty runnable with tough sections of hills for miles 15-35 and 65-85.
The Race
My family and I camped in the field and I had trouble sleeping the night before the race. I got around three or four hours sleep, which was more than before Rocky Raccoon, but I was definitely nervous about Saturday night.
We headed out at 5am in a trail of headlamps into the dark hills. My strategy was to get through the first 50 miles feeling as good as possible. I ran very conservatively, letting people pass me, reminding myself to run my own race, finishing the first loop in 5:46. I had a mini low point at the beginning of the second loop, probably just because I was behind on my nutrition, but overall I was feeling fresh through around 35 miles.
This was to be the hottest year in race history with a high of 84. At Rough Creek 40 last month it was in the mid 90s with no shade, so that heat training would be of use. Still, as the midday sun beat down my energy drained and I went into another low.
At mile 50, I would pick up my music. This happened to be when the sun lowered in the sky, and the combination of the drop in heat and the Grateful Dead raised my spirits. I cruised and sang along into the night through mile 70 or so.
Then atop Boyles Bump the sleep fatigue set in. This time it was even worse than at Rocky. Becoming disorientated, I staggered along the trail. I lied down several times along a flat rock or simply on a mess of stones, trying to sleep for a minute or two. I couldn't sleep nor see how to continue. Wanting so badly to drop the race, I held in my mind my kids, not wanting them to see me as a quitter. I know that every ultrarunner has to face DNFs and there is no shame in pushing yourself to the limits and falling short of your dreams. But I knew the pain of giving up would be worse than enduring this light-headed zombie stagger.
Luckily, fellow runners came to my aid, as I chatted with a couple of folks along the trail, one of whom was in them same shape as I and hallucinating. We both made it to Boyles aid and tried to sleep. I lied down on the dirt with my pack as my pillow for maybe ten minutes, still unable to sleep.
At this point, I was at mile 80 at 6:00 or so in the morning. I knew then sun would soon rise and might revive me. Dreading to head out into the cold night, I shuffled out into the darkness.
As the rays of sun shone out over the hills of Bandera, my fatigue lifted and I rallied. I began running hard. I had dropped the music as my head couldn't handle it but instead I was inspired by the awesome beauty of the landscape and the power of nature. The ancient forces at work humbled me, the night bringing on sleep and the sun energy.
Dawn at mile 86 or so
Wanting to make use of this surge to finish, as I battled the last 15 miles I would pick a runnable section, check my watch, and tell myself to run hard for ten minutes. Sometimes, at the end of ten I'd be going downhill and stretch it a little longer.
Finally, I made it over Lucky's Peak with a mile to the finish. I sprinted down the trail, overcome with emotion, and ran across the line with my kids. My time was 31:37.
Loop 1
|
05:46:14
|
Loop 2
|
07:45:33
|
Loop 3
|
09:21:45
|
Loop 4
|
08:43:38
|
Reflections
For a middle of the pack runner like me, this race was about as good of a performance as I could have hoped for. I could definitely cut time by being more efficient at the aid stations. My goal for this race was just to finish and I sat and chugged coke and ate Pringles at the aid, which added up on the clock. This kept me going but for a race with a time goal I could cut this down by eating on the trail. And if I could figure out this sleep deprivation thing, either by simply getting a good night's sleep beforehand or coming up with a better coping strategy, that would help. But I didn't give up when things seemed lost and fought the whole way. At Rocky, I'd really only run hard the last five miles or so but here I ran steadily through sections in the last 50 miles.
Another reminder from this race was how decent and good most ultrarunners are. In addition to those who kept me sane during my sleep breakdown, a moment that stuck with me was when I arrived at Bandera, trying to set up my tent, get my family situated, then find the aid stations to place my drop bags in the dark. A guy named Chip walked me to Boyles and chatted with me, helping a total stranger for no reason. It's a great feeling to be part of our little community. To Joe, Joyce, Tejas Trails, all the volunteers and runners, thanks for helping me along the way.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
2014 Rough Creek 40 Miler
2014 Rough Creek 40 Miler
The Background
After DNFing at Bighorn 100, I took some time off then ran some lower key races, the Magnolia Hills 21k and the six hour Fatasstic Challenge in the Ho, where I did around 25 miles. I felt I was rolling pretty well, then I rolled my ankle on a training run. At first I just kept running but then decided take time off until the pain went away, which totaled eight days.
All of the sudden Cactus Rose 100 was a few weeks away and I had little confidence in my endurance. I would use Rough Creek 40 miler as a training race, but I wasn't even sure I was fit enough for that. The two weekends preceding Rough creek I ran 20 mile trail runs. The first was a slog; the second I felt great, cruising at a 10 minute mile pace the whole way.
Still heading into Rough Creek, I was a bit anxious. This was my first ultra finish in 2012 and I went back in 2013 where it was 96 degrees with no cloud or tree cover. I became seriously dehydrated that day and I packed two bottles for this year's race.
The Course
The course is ten miles of runnable double and single track and three miles of the Rusty Crown, short steep, rocky hills that go up and down seemingly endlessly. You hit half of the crown out on the way to a loop called The Bowl which features a couple gentle climbs in and out. On the way back is the toughest part of the Crown, with my favorite climb called The Beast, which is so steep it requires clawing up with your hands.
The Race
As I stood in line for the restroom before the race, I noticed that six of the seven guys six had beards, including myself this year. Definitely it's become the ultrarunner fashion.
As we headed out, clouds covered the sun. It was humid, but not really that hot. I thanked the weather gods and tried to keep an even pace.
I really do love the Rusty Crown and look forward to running it each year. As I hit it the first time, I began charging the climbs and bombing the downs. Reminding myself that this is another way of going out to fast, I slowed my pace a bit.
All throughout the first two loops, taking me to the marathon distance, I kept repeating to myself, "Hold back a bit. Hold back a bit." I wanted to hit the last loop feeling strong and I cruised steadily on, feeling fine up to this point. Making short work of the aid stations, drinking and eating on pace, I felt super as I began the final loop.
Then the sun came out. The glare of the heat and my lack of long runs before the race suddenly teamed up and I was a wreck. Hiking most of the way to the Bowl aid station, I hoped to rally for a final push. I ran most of the way back to the Rusty Crown, but by the time I hit the hills I was a zombie. I staggered up and down and the sun beat down, wanting nothing more than to rest under the shade. Knowing that if I sat my legs might lock up, I kept pushing on. It seemed like the last descent would never come but finally I shuffled down to the aid station.
It was 2.75 miles to the finish. Every ultra I've ever run, I've always run in the last two miles. This time I ran / walked it. My wife and kids were waiting for me right before the finish line and the kids ran with me the last steps. My daughter Paloma fell behind so I stopped and took her hand and jogged to the line. As down as I was during the last lap, that moment made it all worth it.
Reflections
As I hit the major low during the last loop, I wondered if I really can make it through Cactus Rose 100. I'm going to make an attempt regardless. I think I'll do one all night run to mentally prepare myself for the darkness and sleep deprivation.
The first year I ran Rough Creek, I ran it in 8:36. I think that was a combination of good weather and inexperience as an ultrarunner making me fearless. The second year was a heat year and I ran 10:32. This year's 10:14 is by no means a stellar performance. But as always there is the rewarding feeling that comes when everything falls apart, you suffer, and yet you finish.
Rough Creek is one of my favorite races. The distance is not a challenge for most ultrarunners, but the combination of the Rusty Crown and the heat of the last two years make this a tough and rewarding journey. Thanks to David, Endurance Buzz Adventure, and all the volunteers for putting on a great race.
The Background
After DNFing at Bighorn 100, I took some time off then ran some lower key races, the Magnolia Hills 21k and the six hour Fatasstic Challenge in the Ho, where I did around 25 miles. I felt I was rolling pretty well, then I rolled my ankle on a training run. At first I just kept running but then decided take time off until the pain went away, which totaled eight days.
All of the sudden Cactus Rose 100 was a few weeks away and I had little confidence in my endurance. I would use Rough Creek 40 miler as a training race, but I wasn't even sure I was fit enough for that. The two weekends preceding Rough creek I ran 20 mile trail runs. The first was a slog; the second I felt great, cruising at a 10 minute mile pace the whole way.
Still heading into Rough Creek, I was a bit anxious. This was my first ultra finish in 2012 and I went back in 2013 where it was 96 degrees with no cloud or tree cover. I became seriously dehydrated that day and I packed two bottles for this year's race.
The Course
The course is ten miles of runnable double and single track and three miles of the Rusty Crown, short steep, rocky hills that go up and down seemingly endlessly. You hit half of the crown out on the way to a loop called The Bowl which features a couple gentle climbs in and out. On the way back is the toughest part of the Crown, with my favorite climb called The Beast, which is so steep it requires clawing up with your hands.
The Beast from 2013
This year the wild flowers were especially beautiful, blooming purple, yellow and red.
The Race
As I stood in line for the restroom before the race, I noticed that six of the seven guys six had beards, including myself this year. Definitely it's become the ultrarunner fashion.
As we headed out, clouds covered the sun. It was humid, but not really that hot. I thanked the weather gods and tried to keep an even pace.
I really do love the Rusty Crown and look forward to running it each year. As I hit it the first time, I began charging the climbs and bombing the downs. Reminding myself that this is another way of going out to fast, I slowed my pace a bit.
All throughout the first two loops, taking me to the marathon distance, I kept repeating to myself, "Hold back a bit. Hold back a bit." I wanted to hit the last loop feeling strong and I cruised steadily on, feeling fine up to this point. Making short work of the aid stations, drinking and eating on pace, I felt super as I began the final loop.
Then the sun came out. The glare of the heat and my lack of long runs before the race suddenly teamed up and I was a wreck. Hiking most of the way to the Bowl aid station, I hoped to rally for a final push. I ran most of the way back to the Rusty Crown, but by the time I hit the hills I was a zombie. I staggered up and down and the sun beat down, wanting nothing more than to rest under the shade. Knowing that if I sat my legs might lock up, I kept pushing on. It seemed like the last descent would never come but finally I shuffled down to the aid station.
It was 2.75 miles to the finish. Every ultra I've ever run, I've always run in the last two miles. This time I ran / walked it. My wife and kids were waiting for me right before the finish line and the kids ran with me the last steps. My daughter Paloma fell behind so I stopped and took her hand and jogged to the line. As down as I was during the last lap, that moment made it all worth it.
Reflections
As I hit the major low during the last loop, I wondered if I really can make it through Cactus Rose 100. I'm going to make an attempt regardless. I think I'll do one all night run to mentally prepare myself for the darkness and sleep deprivation.
The first year I ran Rough Creek, I ran it in 8:36. I think that was a combination of good weather and inexperience as an ultrarunner making me fearless. The second year was a heat year and I ran 10:32. This year's 10:14 is by no means a stellar performance. But as always there is the rewarding feeling that comes when everything falls apart, you suffer, and yet you finish.
Rough Creek is one of my favorite races. The distance is not a challenge for most ultrarunners, but the combination of the Rusty Crown and the heat of the last two years make this a tough and rewarding journey. Thanks to David, Endurance Buzz Adventure, and all the volunteers for putting on a great race.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Xterra Magnolia Hills Race Report
Xterra Magnolia Hills Race Report
The Background
After my DNF at Bighorn 100, I wanted to reset my running
mindset and focus on a completely different goal. I looked for a shorter trail race and found
the Xterra Magnolia Hill 21k in Navasota, Texas. Just an hour from my house and with a
reasonable entry fee, it’d be a convenient and hopefully fun race.
I hadn’t devoted too much time to speedwork in the previous
months, so I did several fartlek sessions between 6:45 and 7:30 pace for a mile
or two. These felt like hard efforts but
manageable.
The Course
The race had advertised itself as a fast course, so I
imagined smooth, rolling doubletrack.
Most of the course is actually on winding, hilly bike trails. There is never a climb of over a few feet,
but the constant up and down and turning at a running pace beat up your
legs. There’s two loops of the bike
trails of five or so miles each then one two mile loop of smooth trail around
the lake. No rocks or roots to speak of,
just a few wooden bridges.
The Race
As stated above, I
anticipated a very runnable course. I
had finished the Natural Bridge Caverns Half Marathon in 1:41, and that race
had some moderately technical trail and big hills, so I figured I’d head out at
a 7:30 pace then see how I felt. If I
could hold that, I’d be up at the front given last year’s results.
This shows how you should never set any time expectations
the first time running a race. I headed
out fast the first couple of miles and the windy trail soon beat up my
legs. It was also hot and humid and I
soon began to feel drained. I slowed
steadily, trying to run my own race and letting people pass me. As I faded, I would walk a few up hills. At one point in the second loop I took a wrong
turn that cost me a couple of minutes.
By the time I started the final two mile lake loop I was almost
staggering. I crawled to the finish line
in 2:15.
Reflections
This experience goes to show that going into any race
overconfident is a mistake. I’m a
midpack runner and going out trying to place up front will be a mistake. I should just take what the day gives
me. A half marathon can still be hard
after fourteen ultras.
The soreness in my legs was different this time, mostly
around the calves and ankles, showing how the little rolling hills at a fast
pace beat them up.
I did finish 4th out of 14 for my age group, which does the ego some good despite the tough day.
I did finish 4th out of 14 for my age group, which does the ego some good despite the tough day.
I do want to run more shorter races like this, though. I
still think I need to limit my ultras and sub-marathon races allow the chance
to race, finish in a couple of hours, and not drain the body and mind too much.
Bighorn 100 Race Report - DNF
Bighorn 100 Race Report - DNF
The Background
I took about five weeks off after my first 100 mile finish at Rocky Raccoon. I started off thinking I might run a road marathon early in this season to build speed, but my first run out the door let me know how slow my legs were. I used the Brazos Bend 50 to build my base and did a lot of Stairmaster and treadmill at a 15% incline at 3.7 to 4 mph.
My wife, my kids, and my mother and father-in-law arrived in Cody, Wyoming a week before the race. It was amazing to see actual mountains. We spent two days in Yellowstone and I climbed Elephant Back mountain with my wife and the kids, about an 800 foot ascent.
Checking into the race was my first medical exam before an event. The volunteer warned me about the elevation but so far being at altitude had not phased me two much.
What I was worried about, though, was my cold. Stepping off the plane, I felt a soreness in my throat, and I felt extremely week the first day in Wyoming. The weakness faded a bit but I still felt sick into race morning.
The Race
We headed off at 11am, an unusual time to start a 100 mile race. I did manage to get a full nights sleep the night before thanks to some Nyquil, unlike many of my previous ultras, but I would be running well into the next day were I able to finish.
The first part of the race winds through Tongue River Canyon. Craggy rock formations loomed overhead as we raced by the river.
The Background
I took about five weeks off after my first 100 mile finish at Rocky Raccoon. I started off thinking I might run a road marathon early in this season to build speed, but my first run out the door let me know how slow my legs were. I used the Brazos Bend 50 to build my base and did a lot of Stairmaster and treadmill at a 15% incline at 3.7 to 4 mph.
My wife, my kids, and my mother and father-in-law arrived in Cody, Wyoming a week before the race. It was amazing to see actual mountains. We spent two days in Yellowstone and I climbed Elephant Back mountain with my wife and the kids, about an 800 foot ascent.
Checking into the race was my first medical exam before an event. The volunteer warned me about the elevation but so far being at altitude had not phased me two much.
What I was worried about, though, was my cold. Stepping off the plane, I felt a soreness in my throat, and I felt extremely week the first day in Wyoming. The weakness faded a bit but I still felt sick into race morning.
The Race
We headed off at 11am, an unusual time to start a 100 mile race. I did manage to get a full nights sleep the night before thanks to some Nyquil, unlike many of my previous ultras, but I would be running well into the next day were I able to finish.
The first part of the race winds through Tongue River Canyon. Craggy rock formations loomed overhead as we raced by the river.
Before the start
Love that Stonehenge looking rock formation
Running along the canyon
Once out of the canyon begins a massive 4000 foot climb up to Dry fork aid station at 13 miles in. The trail up the mountain is truly spectacular with the green hillside covered with yellow and purple wildflowers. I could have stopped every few feet to take a picture.
Climbing
Halfway up
Approaching the summit
After leaving Dry Fork, there are many miles of relatively flat running before the 2000 foot drop to Foot Bridge Aid at mile 30. Flat sections of courses often send me into mental low points, as I prefer the variation of climbing and descending. I started to feel tired and my head wasn't in the race until the drop. The descent was truly amazing and I hammered down the trail, perhaps too hard as things turned out.
Running down to Dry Fork
After Dry Fork is a long 4000 foot climb up to Jaws aid station at mile 48, where we'd be at nearly 9000 feet in elevation. There is a lot of beautiful running by the river and the climb was not as steep nor sustained as the first major ascent.
Running along the river as night approaches
I carried a hoodie and pants out of Dry Fork as I knew it would be getting cold as night fell. I started to feel very weak as I slowly climbed up to Jaws, shaking my head, dizzy and disorientated. It felt like sickness from the cold and not the altitude, as there was no headache. There was a lot of mud on the course that sucked at your shoes and it rained a bit.
I started stopping for several minutes at aid stations, sitting by campfires, trying to warm myself with soup and regroup. By the time I got to Jaws I was completely spent. I contemplated for a long time carrying on but I couldn't stop shaking. The volunteers had my lay out on a stretcher and I couldn't get back up. I dropped.
Reflections
I went into the race knowing that I was sick and I'm proud that I made it halfway through the course. I would have turned around at Jaws and headed back the way I came, so I'm glad I at least got to see the whole of the trail.
I honestly think I could have finished this thing healthy, but a DNF is a DNF and I would have had to prove it. I look forward to going back, hopefully next year. The course is beautiful beyond words and the volunteers are amazing. Many thanks to all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)