After waffling over whether or not I was going to get in my final run of the week, all it took was seeing some neighbors doing Crossfit in the driveway on the way back from the grocery store on Sunday evening. Sure, it was past 7 o’clock and it was raining, but I was immediately overcome with the urge to go out and get it done. I disappeared into the bedroom while Olga unpacked the groceries and, eventually, reappeared in the kitchen in full-on running garb wearing a headlamp and looking for a handheld. She was definitely surprised and happy to see me eager to go out in the cool, rainy night and run on the trail.
I am spoiled, though. It’s much easier to make snap decisions on running the trails when it’s less than a 3 minute walk from the front door to technical, hilly trails. I passed by the cross-fitters and gave them a nod and thought, “That’s right! You can play in your driveway, but I’m going to go have much more fun banging out an hour run on slick, rocky, technical, muddy trails in the dark and throw in a few good creek crossings along the way!”. The fog on the high ridges definitely didn’t do me any favors being able to see the trail. The rain, which was illuminated in the beam of my headlamp made it challenging enough to see the trail.
I ran almost 70 trail miles for the week and, for the first time ever, I’m not feeling it. That may not seem like many miles for a lot of people, but it is for me. I believe it was a good decision to forego running for the first 2 weeks after the Hood Hundred. It allowed me to recover more. Afterwards, I still struggled in ramping back up the miles and was cautious along the way. I’ve always been a low mileage runner and when I get past 60 miles for the week, my legs, typically, revolt. They did 2 weeks ago when I ran just over 60 miles. Of course, the Saturday massage by Olga definitely helped. Possibly, I’m beginning to acclimate to the higher weekly mileage, which I’m pleased. I don’t think there’s a substitute to high mileage running to perform better in races with one caveat—minimize the junk miles! Yesterday, I definitely enjoyed my “rest day”. This morning, I was back in the gym after a month-plus long hiatus. I’m certain to feel that workout when I go out and run tonight. No complaints, though. And, at this point, my mantra is “every workout and every run counts, so give it your best effort and do not let up”. And, when I start to feel the discomfort during a run, I ask myself out loud “how bad do you want it?”. I answer by pushing harder.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
The Stomach of My Heart
It all started this morning with flour, yeast, water, and, possibly, a few other ingredients. It wasn't until this afternoon that I was told what would become of the large rising mass of wet dough. Pirozhki! Say it with me. Pih-rhoz-kee!
It's amazing how much food can be made with such simple and inexpensive ingredients. Most authentic Russian cuisine, from my limited experience, is made following this standard. I think I'm going to gain a few pounds this weekend. There are multiple plates stacked high of Pirozhki and my ability to exercise self control is limited with smell of fresh baked pastry permeating the air.
One thing is certain, if there's a Russian woman cooking in the kitchen, you will never go hungry. Thankfully, I'm married to one and feel like the luckiest man alive.
It's amazing how much food can be made with such simple and inexpensive ingredients. Most authentic Russian cuisine, from my limited experience, is made following this standard. I think I'm going to gain a few pounds this weekend. There are multiple plates stacked high of Pirozhki and my ability to exercise self control is limited with smell of fresh baked pastry permeating the air.
One thing is certain, if there's a Russian woman cooking in the kitchen, you will never go hungry. Thankfully, I'm married to one and feel like the luckiest man alive.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Vacation is over!
Ok. Sitting around on my ass or driving around town and seeing other people running along the roads is over. I've ran a whopping two times in the past two weeks for a total of 10 miles, since the 100. Now is the time to get back up on the horse, double-down, drops a few pounds, and get ready for Bandera. The rest of the race schedule will be determined after I cry in my beer on December 5th when I get the "Dear John" email from the Western States Committee.
Giddy-up!
Giddy-up!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Hundred in the 'Hood
Out of all the places in the lower 48 that don’t have an official 100-miler, it is perplexing Oregon is among the few, considering the plethora of talented Oregonian ultra runners. But, now, that has changed with “Hundred in the ‘Hood”. Over the past year, I’ve had the opportunity to run the trails in the Columbia River Gorge, Smith Rock, and many local trails in the Portland area. And, that, barely scratches the surface of what is available in the state. I was excited, to say the least, at the opportunity to run in a 100-miler in Oregon on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). The total mileage for the race was close to 103 miles, and 99.9% was on single-track, mostly the PCT.
While there is more challenging terrain in Oregon, the course was amazingly beautiful and still a challenge. The occasional views of Mt. Hood at the North end of the course and Mt. Jefferson to the South did not disappoint. In short, the north-south course was book-ended by these two peaks. And, the farther south we ran on the course, the more challenging the terrain. The course topped out around 5,800 feet a mile, or two, before the Breitenbush Lake Aid Station (Mile 65), which was, also, the turnaround point on the course.
The race was co-RD’d by Olga Varlamova and Mike Burke whom are both very experienced ultra runners. And, they did a fantastic job on this inaugural event. The aid stations were top notch and the volunteers were very helpful and attentive to our needs. I’m a fairly low maintenance runner, overall. Just provide me some water at aid stations and a few spots along the course for drop bags and I’m happy. And, if there happens to be ice to put in my bottles, it doesn’t get much better.
Olga drove the official U-Haul truck from Portland to the race sight on Thursday afternoon, while I did my best to keep her entertained on the long drive. Beforehand, we loaded up the remainder of items in the truck with Mike after I flew into Portland that morning. In the late afternoon, we arrived at the historic Clackamass Lake Ranger Station cabin located directly across the road from the start/finish. The rustic 1933 cabin was perfect and after an early evening run with Olga and Mike, we cooked and ate dinner by the light of a few lanterns and the fireplace stove. The next morning was shockingly cold for me with frost covering the nearby meadow. The majority of the day was spent unloading the truck, stuffing packets, and greeting the runners. I began getting nervous about the race when I went back to the cabin to finalize my drop bags. The physical action of placing my drop bags in the designated area finally made the imminence of the race real. Later, on Friday evening, I managed to make a home cooked dinner for Olga and Mike, who had worked non-stop all day. It was the least I could do.
Race morning came early and I managed to make it to the start area just a few minutes before the pre-race briefing. With a kiss from Olga just a minute before the start, I headed off down the road into the dark at 5am and onto the PCT with 115+ runners.
My plan for the race was fairly simple. Run as best I could by how I felt. Also, the run would be with no pacer and no crew, which I was very comfortable with doing. I purposefully did not wear my heart rate monitor. I didn’t want to feel obligated to run the race that way and didn’t want to use mental energy constantly looking at my watch. A few weeks leading up to the race, I began running without the monitor and found it very liberating. It has its place in my training, but this wasn’t the time. I still had the monkey on my back, although, a light one, since my DNF at Headlands over a year ago. Since I had run only one hundred before that in 2008, I wondered if I would be able to have another good run this time around. I knew my training mileage was very low with my peak week at 63 miles and 37 of those came during a weekend 60k race. I ran more miles in a week while building up to the marathon. This was the big unknown…
As soon as we entered the trail, I, immediately, noticed the trail dust floating in the beam of my headlamp. It was apparent I would be sucking in a lot of dust during the race, which is something I haven’t experienced for that length of time. I reached the first aid station just under my split and kept chipping away time, based on my pace chart. After the sun rose and just two hours into the run, my hand was stung by a bee or wasp. I’m not certain which it was, but it immediately began throbbing and swelling. I was temporarily overcome with some concern, based on a runner who had died a week earlier after being stung immediately after running a marathon on the same trails. I reached the Frog Lake turnaround in good shape and ended up running a huge negative split compared to the first 14 miles. The one thing about these trails are many of the climbs are a slight uphill grade (3 to 4%). This makes the course very runnable during the early miles. But, I realized that could come back to haunt me later during a longer race such as this. Regardless, I ran uphill when I could and walked when I couldn’t run up the hill. The result was reaching the 28 mile mark (Horsecamp Aid Station) over 30 minutes sooner than predicted in a time of 4 hours 38 minutes. Olga reminded me the pace chart was aggressive and to take it easy. While I heeded her words, I kept running on how I felt.
I purposefully walked for the first 10 minutes out of the aid station to let the liquids and a few of the foods I had eaten have a chance to settle. Afterwards, I continued on with the running. It wasn’t too long afterwards where I came to the intersection of the Miller Trail. Based on the run I did on Thursday evening with Olga and Mike, I knew I would cross this intersection again around mile 102 and take the Miller Trail to the finish line. I was really looking forward to getting to some climbs to give my legs a chance rest and so I could get in a little more walking. I got some of that wish going up to Red Wolf Pass, but a better dose a few miles before Warm Springs Aid Station and then on to Pinheads. I kept taking my gels every 30 minutes and drinking as much as possible. The weather was absolutely gorgeous and the occasional peeks at Mt. Hood made the trails even more enjoyable. I was pleased my power walking uphill had improved. It was the first time in a race where I actually dreamed about the ups and couldn’t wait until the next one came around the next bend in the trail.
For those that haven’t been to the Pacific Northwest, let me just say you are missing out. This is a Paradise with a capital “P”. I can’t imagine what the members of the Lewis and Clark Expedition thought when they stumbled upon this land. It had to be similar to what my dear Olga experienced with tears streaming down her face as she ran along the PCT at a break neck pace the Thursday evening before the race. The spirit of the forest provided all the energy she needed to run free and fast. The old growth Douglas Fir are so tall, they seem to touch the sky. It makes one dizzy just gazing up at the tops of the trees as one runs along the trail. You could have 4 or 5 people stand around the base of a tree and they still wouldn’t be able to touch hands. Simply amazing for those of us not accustomed to such gems in the forest.
I was eager to make it to the Olallie Meadows Campground (mile 55) where my drop bag was located. I intended on changing shoes at this point, but my Fireblades were working flawlessly up to this point and I didn’t want to take more time that I already had refueling at the aid station. This aid station is located about 3/8’s of a mile off the PCT along a trail spur. It was the busiest aid station during the race. After leaving and continuing Southward, I knew I had some climbing for the next 10 miles to Breitenbush Lake and I was looking forward to it with a smile. The trail from Olallie Lake to Breitenbush Lake was, by far, the most technical and rough trail in the race. This 6.5 mile stretch was very rocky and reminded me of Zane Grey, which is exactly what I like. It was nice to get to run on this section, since it was unique in comparison to the rest of the trail. It was along this stretch where I began seeing the leader and front runners making their way back North. There were about 6 or 7 runners within 10 minutes of the leader and that was great to see. I made it into Breitenbush Lake Aid Station (mile 65) in 13 hours and realized I was still under my pace chart by about 10 minutes. It was at this point where I thought, “only 37 more miles to go!”, as I smiled. What a sick mind! This aid station is in close proximity to Mt. Jefferson and the low-angled evening sunlight covered everything in a beautiful golden hue. This place is truly special and I was happy to experience it firsthand.
I made my way out of the aid station with a determined smile and began the home stretch back toward the finish. I passed a few runners along the way and scared some on the technical downhills as I closed in on them quickly. This is the kind of trail I live for during a run. While some made their way down gingerly, I made my way down and through the rocks as quickly as my legs would let me. I made it back to my drop bag at Olallie Meadows Campground, several minutes behind my pace chart. I had planned on changing my shoes at this point, again, but I didn’t want to waste more time. I knew I would pay for it later, since my shoes were full of dust, even with wearing gaiters. But, I had begun watching the clock and time was ticking. One thing I want to mention is the aid stations were top notch. They were managed by seasoned ultra runners who were very attentive to our needs. It would have been impossible to guess this was the first year for this 100. I made my way back onto the trail and headed towards home. I knew that Olga would be waiting for me at the finish and with a scant 27 miles left to go, and all I wanted was to give her a hug and kiss.
I was still several minutes above my predicted pace chart, but I just kept pushing as much as possible. By the time I made it to Lemiti Creek, I was 25 minutes off of pace and this is where I began my rally. I managed to run 37 minutes under my pace chart over the next 10 miles, somehow, managing to run sub-10 minute miles during that time. After reaching Warm Springs Meadows Aid Station, the wheels slowly came off after running to the base of the climb for Red Wolf Pass. This climb seemed to go on forever! I was never so happy to see a glow stick when I reached the eventual top of the climb, because I knew I only had 6, or so, miles left to the finish. My biggest downfall leaving Warm Springs was my lack of hydration and nutrition. I was, basically, up to 40 gels consumed and just tired of drinking water or even drink mix. Regardless, I knew I would, eventually, finish. And, finish I did. I didn’t meet my time goal, but I had a fun time trying. I crossed the finish line in the light of a campfire and gave Olga a hug and a kiss. While everyone was dressed for the cold, I was wearing a cut up shirt made into a tank top and my Moeben sleeves. I wasn’t cold in the least, even though Olga was concerned I should be. I guess my efforts to keep running and moving near the end kept me warm.
I didn’t experience any really bad patches during the race, other than some very sore feet near the end. My feet aren’t conditioned enough to wear Fireblades for 103 miles, or probably in any shoes for that matter. There was a point around mile 45 where I was beating myself up and telling myself that I am definitely not a 100 mile runner. I’d rather run the shorter distances. Eventually, those thoughts would go away. The greatest satisfaction was staying with it and finishing what I started. It’s probably one of the biggest lessons for me to take into my non-running life. A lot goes through the mind during 100 miles. And, while it would have been nice to have a crew and pacer, I was happy making it through on my own and in the quietness of my own thoughts. I can’t wait to do it again…
While there is more challenging terrain in Oregon, the course was amazingly beautiful and still a challenge. The occasional views of Mt. Hood at the North end of the course and Mt. Jefferson to the South did not disappoint. In short, the north-south course was book-ended by these two peaks. And, the farther south we ran on the course, the more challenging the terrain. The course topped out around 5,800 feet a mile, or two, before the Breitenbush Lake Aid Station (Mile 65), which was, also, the turnaround point on the course.
The race was co-RD’d by Olga Varlamova and Mike Burke whom are both very experienced ultra runners. And, they did a fantastic job on this inaugural event. The aid stations were top notch and the volunteers were very helpful and attentive to our needs. I’m a fairly low maintenance runner, overall. Just provide me some water at aid stations and a few spots along the course for drop bags and I’m happy. And, if there happens to be ice to put in my bottles, it doesn’t get much better.
Olga drove the official U-Haul truck from Portland to the race sight on Thursday afternoon, while I did my best to keep her entertained on the long drive. Beforehand, we loaded up the remainder of items in the truck with Mike after I flew into Portland that morning. In the late afternoon, we arrived at the historic Clackamass Lake Ranger Station cabin located directly across the road from the start/finish. The rustic 1933 cabin was perfect and after an early evening run with Olga and Mike, we cooked and ate dinner by the light of a few lanterns and the fireplace stove. The next morning was shockingly cold for me with frost covering the nearby meadow. The majority of the day was spent unloading the truck, stuffing packets, and greeting the runners. I began getting nervous about the race when I went back to the cabin to finalize my drop bags. The physical action of placing my drop bags in the designated area finally made the imminence of the race real. Later, on Friday evening, I managed to make a home cooked dinner for Olga and Mike, who had worked non-stop all day. It was the least I could do.
Race morning came early and I managed to make it to the start area just a few minutes before the pre-race briefing. With a kiss from Olga just a minute before the start, I headed off down the road into the dark at 5am and onto the PCT with 115+ runners.
My plan for the race was fairly simple. Run as best I could by how I felt. Also, the run would be with no pacer and no crew, which I was very comfortable with doing. I purposefully did not wear my heart rate monitor. I didn’t want to feel obligated to run the race that way and didn’t want to use mental energy constantly looking at my watch. A few weeks leading up to the race, I began running without the monitor and found it very liberating. It has its place in my training, but this wasn’t the time. I still had the monkey on my back, although, a light one, since my DNF at Headlands over a year ago. Since I had run only one hundred before that in 2008, I wondered if I would be able to have another good run this time around. I knew my training mileage was very low with my peak week at 63 miles and 37 of those came during a weekend 60k race. I ran more miles in a week while building up to the marathon. This was the big unknown…
As soon as we entered the trail, I, immediately, noticed the trail dust floating in the beam of my headlamp. It was apparent I would be sucking in a lot of dust during the race, which is something I haven’t experienced for that length of time. I reached the first aid station just under my split and kept chipping away time, based on my pace chart. After the sun rose and just two hours into the run, my hand was stung by a bee or wasp. I’m not certain which it was, but it immediately began throbbing and swelling. I was temporarily overcome with some concern, based on a runner who had died a week earlier after being stung immediately after running a marathon on the same trails. I reached the Frog Lake turnaround in good shape and ended up running a huge negative split compared to the first 14 miles. The one thing about these trails are many of the climbs are a slight uphill grade (3 to 4%). This makes the course very runnable during the early miles. But, I realized that could come back to haunt me later during a longer race such as this. Regardless, I ran uphill when I could and walked when I couldn’t run up the hill. The result was reaching the 28 mile mark (Horsecamp Aid Station) over 30 minutes sooner than predicted in a time of 4 hours 38 minutes. Olga reminded me the pace chart was aggressive and to take it easy. While I heeded her words, I kept running on how I felt.
I purposefully walked for the first 10 minutes out of the aid station to let the liquids and a few of the foods I had eaten have a chance to settle. Afterwards, I continued on with the running. It wasn’t too long afterwards where I came to the intersection of the Miller Trail. Based on the run I did on Thursday evening with Olga and Mike, I knew I would cross this intersection again around mile 102 and take the Miller Trail to the finish line. I was really looking forward to getting to some climbs to give my legs a chance rest and so I could get in a little more walking. I got some of that wish going up to Red Wolf Pass, but a better dose a few miles before Warm Springs Aid Station and then on to Pinheads. I kept taking my gels every 30 minutes and drinking as much as possible. The weather was absolutely gorgeous and the occasional peeks at Mt. Hood made the trails even more enjoyable. I was pleased my power walking uphill had improved. It was the first time in a race where I actually dreamed about the ups and couldn’t wait until the next one came around the next bend in the trail.
For those that haven’t been to the Pacific Northwest, let me just say you are missing out. This is a Paradise with a capital “P”. I can’t imagine what the members of the Lewis and Clark Expedition thought when they stumbled upon this land. It had to be similar to what my dear Olga experienced with tears streaming down her face as she ran along the PCT at a break neck pace the Thursday evening before the race. The spirit of the forest provided all the energy she needed to run free and fast. The old growth Douglas Fir are so tall, they seem to touch the sky. It makes one dizzy just gazing up at the tops of the trees as one runs along the trail. You could have 4 or 5 people stand around the base of a tree and they still wouldn’t be able to touch hands. Simply amazing for those of us not accustomed to such gems in the forest.
I was eager to make it to the Olallie Meadows Campground (mile 55) where my drop bag was located. I intended on changing shoes at this point, but my Fireblades were working flawlessly up to this point and I didn’t want to take more time that I already had refueling at the aid station. This aid station is located about 3/8’s of a mile off the PCT along a trail spur. It was the busiest aid station during the race. After leaving and continuing Southward, I knew I had some climbing for the next 10 miles to Breitenbush Lake and I was looking forward to it with a smile. The trail from Olallie Lake to Breitenbush Lake was, by far, the most technical and rough trail in the race. This 6.5 mile stretch was very rocky and reminded me of Zane Grey, which is exactly what I like. It was nice to get to run on this section, since it was unique in comparison to the rest of the trail. It was along this stretch where I began seeing the leader and front runners making their way back North. There were about 6 or 7 runners within 10 minutes of the leader and that was great to see. I made it into Breitenbush Lake Aid Station (mile 65) in 13 hours and realized I was still under my pace chart by about 10 minutes. It was at this point where I thought, “only 37 more miles to go!”, as I smiled. What a sick mind! This aid station is in close proximity to Mt. Jefferson and the low-angled evening sunlight covered everything in a beautiful golden hue. This place is truly special and I was happy to experience it firsthand.
I made my way out of the aid station with a determined smile and began the home stretch back toward the finish. I passed a few runners along the way and scared some on the technical downhills as I closed in on them quickly. This is the kind of trail I live for during a run. While some made their way down gingerly, I made my way down and through the rocks as quickly as my legs would let me. I made it back to my drop bag at Olallie Meadows Campground, several minutes behind my pace chart. I had planned on changing my shoes at this point, again, but I didn’t want to waste more time. I knew I would pay for it later, since my shoes were full of dust, even with wearing gaiters. But, I had begun watching the clock and time was ticking. One thing I want to mention is the aid stations were top notch. They were managed by seasoned ultra runners who were very attentive to our needs. It would have been impossible to guess this was the first year for this 100. I made my way back onto the trail and headed towards home. I knew that Olga would be waiting for me at the finish and with a scant 27 miles left to go, and all I wanted was to give her a hug and kiss.
I was still several minutes above my predicted pace chart, but I just kept pushing as much as possible. By the time I made it to Lemiti Creek, I was 25 minutes off of pace and this is where I began my rally. I managed to run 37 minutes under my pace chart over the next 10 miles, somehow, managing to run sub-10 minute miles during that time. After reaching Warm Springs Meadows Aid Station, the wheels slowly came off after running to the base of the climb for Red Wolf Pass. This climb seemed to go on forever! I was never so happy to see a glow stick when I reached the eventual top of the climb, because I knew I only had 6, or so, miles left to the finish. My biggest downfall leaving Warm Springs was my lack of hydration and nutrition. I was, basically, up to 40 gels consumed and just tired of drinking water or even drink mix. Regardless, I knew I would, eventually, finish. And, finish I did. I didn’t meet my time goal, but I had a fun time trying. I crossed the finish line in the light of a campfire and gave Olga a hug and a kiss. While everyone was dressed for the cold, I was wearing a cut up shirt made into a tank top and my Moeben sleeves. I wasn’t cold in the least, even though Olga was concerned I should be. I guess my efforts to keep running and moving near the end kept me warm.
I didn’t experience any really bad patches during the race, other than some very sore feet near the end. My feet aren’t conditioned enough to wear Fireblades for 103 miles, or probably in any shoes for that matter. There was a point around mile 45 where I was beating myself up and telling myself that I am definitely not a 100 mile runner. I’d rather run the shorter distances. Eventually, those thoughts would go away. The greatest satisfaction was staying with it and finishing what I started. It’s probably one of the biggest lessons for me to take into my non-running life. A lot goes through the mind during 100 miles. And, while it would have been nice to have a crew and pacer, I was happy making it through on my own and in the quietness of my own thoughts. I can’t wait to do it again…
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Fortune
"The best way to navigate through life is to give up all of our controls" -from a Chinese fortune cookie
As Olga and I sat on a patio at a Chinese restaurant, I began grinning and laughed. We both knew how true and specific those words were for me. One can try, as they might, to hold on tight to life and control every step, but the reality is it goes at its own pace. I'm reminded during my years as a flight instructor teaching my students to hold onto the yoke as lightly as possible with the index finger and thumb. While, at first, it seems to be an impossibility to fly an aircraft in this manner, over time, and with experience, it becomes easier. And, I relate that example to how life should be lived.
Personally, I've tried, throughout the years, to control every aspect of my life down to the minute and explicit detail. And, while there have been times when I was able to convince myself everything was sailing along smoothly, it took only one little bump in the road to derail my efforts. Dealing with adversity has been my main challenge; I attribute it, most likely, to an often tumultuous childhood. But, I believe there are many circumstances that may cause this need for total control of every situation. And, the reason I mention all of this?
My wife, Olga, has been an inspiration to live life in a more light hearted fashion and to face adversity head on and walk right through it and keep on going. Everyone has heard the term "diamond in the rough". Well, it didn't take me very long to realize that Olga was my diamond. And, it wasn't something that materialized over an extended period of time. It occurred rather quickly and was an obvious observation for me. She has been an inspiration and an extraordinary teacher of life. And, I am extremely grateful for that. And, Baby, I know you will read this post. Hopefully, one day I can thank your papa and mama in person for bringing such a wonderful human being into the world...
As Olga and I sat on a patio at a Chinese restaurant, I began grinning and laughed. We both knew how true and specific those words were for me. One can try, as they might, to hold on tight to life and control every step, but the reality is it goes at its own pace. I'm reminded during my years as a flight instructor teaching my students to hold onto the yoke as lightly as possible with the index finger and thumb. While, at first, it seems to be an impossibility to fly an aircraft in this manner, over time, and with experience, it becomes easier. And, I relate that example to how life should be lived.
Personally, I've tried, throughout the years, to control every aspect of my life down to the minute and explicit detail. And, while there have been times when I was able to convince myself everything was sailing along smoothly, it took only one little bump in the road to derail my efforts. Dealing with adversity has been my main challenge; I attribute it, most likely, to an often tumultuous childhood. But, I believe there are many circumstances that may cause this need for total control of every situation. And, the reason I mention all of this?
My wife, Olga, has been an inspiration to live life in a more light hearted fashion and to face adversity head on and walk right through it and keep on going. Everyone has heard the term "diamond in the rough". Well, it didn't take me very long to realize that Olga was my diamond. And, it wasn't something that materialized over an extended period of time. It occurred rather quickly and was an obvious observation for me. She has been an inspiration and an extraordinary teacher of life. And, I am extremely grateful for that. And, Baby, I know you will read this post. Hopefully, one day I can thank your papa and mama in person for bringing such a wonderful human being into the world...
Friday, September 11, 2009
2 Weeks...
In two weeks, God willing, I'll be in Oregon getting ready to make my third attempt at a 100 miler. I'm 1 for 2 so far. And, I have to admit and be honest with myself that, although I DNF'd (read that as I flat out quit!) last year at Headlands and accepted my decision, it doesn't mean I haven't second guessed that decision on occassion. I'm not certain how well trained I am for the race, but one thing is certain, I am looking forward to getting out on the trail and running through the woods.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Another World
Last night, I ran the final race in a three part series of 60k's that occurred in central Texas in August. These races worked out perfectly, distance wise, to provide a great way to log training miles while getting ready for the Hundred in the 'Hood next month. And, while the month of August has been a brutal month for heat in Texas, the timing couldn't have been any better.
I have a bad habit of relying too much on my heart rate monitor while training and running races. I made the decision earlier this past week to run without the chest strap. But, I still planned on using the watch. But, after I looked at the course layout and the fact there was an aid station smack dab in the middle of the 10k loop, I decided I would run without a watch, too. I figured as long as I drained my bottles each loop and took a gel at the start/finish and the middle aid station, everything should be fine regarding my nutrition plan. I have to admit, running without a watch, although I have done it before in a race, was a little odd for me.
We began the race at 7pm and I hung out with the lead pack and figured I'd make an assessment on how I felt running with these guys. I knew there were several fast runners and didn't want to get sucked into a race, per se. I'm still training for a hundred and needed to ensure I didn't trash my body and be unable to have a good week of training this upcoming week, since it is my last big week before I slowly begin the taper. After a few miles into the run, someone commented on how we were going at a fairly good clip, but it didn't seem that bad. Of course, I didn't have my "trusty" heart rate monitor to look at, which was probably a good thing. The course is very technical in parts, but, overall, very runnable. We ran the entire loop, except for the longest climb. We finished the first loop in 57 minutes and I felt great. Olga seemed a little concerned about seeing me so soon, but I assured her I felt fine.
The second loop split was within seconds of the first loop, even though I had to run back to the start line after having run a quarter of a mile of the loop to get my headlamp. Surprisingly, I took the overall lead around mile ten. During the third loop, I took a very nasty fall on a technical downhill with nothing but a plethora of loose granite rocks to break my fall. My whole left side looked like it had been through a cheese grater. Ouch! I finished out the third loop still in the lead. However, the guy who would eventually win was in and out of the aid station while I was still there hydrating. And, I definitely didn't mind. It's a mental drain to be leading a race not knowing how far back everyone is. I had no plans to be leading at any point in the race and didn't enjoy my time while I was in the lead. I had finished up 30k in 2:56'ish. Even though I was diligent in taking in the calories, I didn't hydrate as much as I should have. I spent a minute, or two, at the start/finish chugging a LOT of ice water. Pure heaven. And, as Olga puts it, I definitely would have taken the iced water over $10,000 without a second thought. It's that good when it's warm.
I went out on my fourth loop knowing I would have to go slower. My stomach was sloshing quite a bit, but I knew I had to get the hydration levels back in check. My fourth loop was uneventful and my slowest, but I didn't care. I kept telling myself it was my recovery loop so I could finish strong in the final 20k. I picked the pace back up in the fifth loop and was smiling ear to ear. It was very liberating not knowing what my heart rate was doing during the run or even knowing the time. It was an entirely different world of running. I was running for the pure joy of running and it was a very satisfying experience. I finished up the fifth loop strong and was told the second place runner was only four minutes in front of me. I would find out later that wasn't the case, but it was intentionally used as a carrot to get me to run faster. Well, it worked. I never found the second place runner and I, honestly, didn't believe I was in third place, since I knew I had been passed by several people during my fourth loop. I finished strong and my legs felt fresh. The parts of my body that hurt were my right hand, left leg, and left arm from the fall. Plus, I had some pretty bad thigh chafing from the heat. My feet are a little sore from the granite rock pile and although they did hurt a little in the later half of the run, I seem to have a masochistic mental perspective with my feet. In a way, it hurts so good when my feet get beat up from the trail.
I am fairly certain when I run the hundred next month in Oregon, I'm leaving the heart rate monitor in Texas. I run more freely and enjoy the trail immensely without it strapped around my chest.
I have a bad habit of relying too much on my heart rate monitor while training and running races. I made the decision earlier this past week to run without the chest strap. But, I still planned on using the watch. But, after I looked at the course layout and the fact there was an aid station smack dab in the middle of the 10k loop, I decided I would run without a watch, too. I figured as long as I drained my bottles each loop and took a gel at the start/finish and the middle aid station, everything should be fine regarding my nutrition plan. I have to admit, running without a watch, although I have done it before in a race, was a little odd for me.
We began the race at 7pm and I hung out with the lead pack and figured I'd make an assessment on how I felt running with these guys. I knew there were several fast runners and didn't want to get sucked into a race, per se. I'm still training for a hundred and needed to ensure I didn't trash my body and be unable to have a good week of training this upcoming week, since it is my last big week before I slowly begin the taper. After a few miles into the run, someone commented on how we were going at a fairly good clip, but it didn't seem that bad. Of course, I didn't have my "trusty" heart rate monitor to look at, which was probably a good thing. The course is very technical in parts, but, overall, very runnable. We ran the entire loop, except for the longest climb. We finished the first loop in 57 minutes and I felt great. Olga seemed a little concerned about seeing me so soon, but I assured her I felt fine.
The second loop split was within seconds of the first loop, even though I had to run back to the start line after having run a quarter of a mile of the loop to get my headlamp. Surprisingly, I took the overall lead around mile ten. During the third loop, I took a very nasty fall on a technical downhill with nothing but a plethora of loose granite rocks to break my fall. My whole left side looked like it had been through a cheese grater. Ouch! I finished out the third loop still in the lead. However, the guy who would eventually win was in and out of the aid station while I was still there hydrating. And, I definitely didn't mind. It's a mental drain to be leading a race not knowing how far back everyone is. I had no plans to be leading at any point in the race and didn't enjoy my time while I was in the lead. I had finished up 30k in 2:56'ish. Even though I was diligent in taking in the calories, I didn't hydrate as much as I should have. I spent a minute, or two, at the start/finish chugging a LOT of ice water. Pure heaven. And, as Olga puts it, I definitely would have taken the iced water over $10,000 without a second thought. It's that good when it's warm.
I went out on my fourth loop knowing I would have to go slower. My stomach was sloshing quite a bit, but I knew I had to get the hydration levels back in check. My fourth loop was uneventful and my slowest, but I didn't care. I kept telling myself it was my recovery loop so I could finish strong in the final 20k. I picked the pace back up in the fifth loop and was smiling ear to ear. It was very liberating not knowing what my heart rate was doing during the run or even knowing the time. It was an entirely different world of running. I was running for the pure joy of running and it was a very satisfying experience. I finished up the fifth loop strong and was told the second place runner was only four minutes in front of me. I would find out later that wasn't the case, but it was intentionally used as a carrot to get me to run faster. Well, it worked. I never found the second place runner and I, honestly, didn't believe I was in third place, since I knew I had been passed by several people during my fourth loop. I finished strong and my legs felt fresh. The parts of my body that hurt were my right hand, left leg, and left arm from the fall. Plus, I had some pretty bad thigh chafing from the heat. My feet are a little sore from the granite rock pile and although they did hurt a little in the later half of the run, I seem to have a masochistic mental perspective with my feet. In a way, it hurts so good when my feet get beat up from the trail.
I am fairly certain when I run the hundred next month in Oregon, I'm leaving the heart rate monitor in Texas. I run more freely and enjoy the trail immensely without it strapped around my chest.
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