Mountain Running Roadtrip: Arches National Park (Part 2 of 2)

See Part 1 about my trip to Leadville.

After my short and improvised experience of running in the 10,000’ elevation of Leadville, I hit the road again and continued westward towards Utah and Arches National Park. I didn’t have much a plan for this leg, I had just been told that if I really wanted to take advantage of my time in the Rocky Mountain region, then I should be sure to visit this place – and that advice turned out to be spot on.

The drive from Leadville to Moab was a drab 4 hours, especially once I crossed into Utah, where it was all dark highway and no signs of civilization in any direction. After spending the night in Hotel Audi[i], I woke up at 6 AM Monday morning to get a jump on the activities[ii].

The entrance to Arches National Park is almost as if it were designed by a landscape architect on a biblical scale and with a flair for dramatic reveals of incredible vistas. The entering road curves up switchbacks carved into the side of a red standstone cliff that rises at least a few hundred feet. Once one reaches the precipice, the road turns into a vast landscape of valleys, rock spires, and geologic formations that look more like a backdrop on Tatooine[iii] than anything earthly. 

Stillframe from the 1999 Star Wars spoof: The Phantom Menace

From there, I drove about another 20 minutes on windy park roads, past incredible rock shapes formed from eons of wind and water erosion to the point where they looked geologically and structurally impossible, until I reached the trailhead I’d picked out before my trip: Devil’s Garden.

Having beat the crowds, I had the trail all to myself. I’d learn later this would be partially a very good thing, and partially irrelevant. Also, partial clusters of clouds on the horizon distorted the rising sun, both keeping the temperature cool, and creating some beautiful sunrise scenes. Thus, I set off on my run, looking to just embrace and enjoy my setting.

The first section was very well manicured and smooth trail to the extent that they could have won ADA approval and made it wheelchair accessible. This passed a few large rock faces protruding from the ground, which made for majestic views up close, but limited the kind of far reaching vistas that this park really excels in.

Landscape Arch and another smaller arch in the background

The fun really started once I got past the ‘tourist friendly’ section of trail[iv] and got onto the ‘primitive loop’. Very abruptly, the trail went from flat, hard packed dirt to a sequence of semi-smooth rock faces that just happened to not be perpendicular to the ground, thus constituting a ‘trail’. Consequently, my average pace slowed by about 5:00/mile at this point. I was working down a trail spur that was supposed to lead me to ‘Double O Arch’, but soon came to a point where the school bus-sized boulder I was climbing over came to a straight down 30 foot drop, and I saw no way around it[v], forcing my turn back.

Dead end. (The rock drops about 30 feet past where you can see from here)

From there, I turned onto a soft dirt wash[vi] that twisted through a valley created by the surrounding sandstone cliffs and populated by menacing desert vegetation that piled 10 feet high on both sides. 

A view of the wash and vegetation from above

This ‘easy’ section of the trail again quickly turned into a prolonged stretch of climbing over boulders, scaling steep rock faces, and just trying not to get lost in a remote section of desert with only half a bottle of water and one Gu to survive on. The trail was marked not with signs or any other man-made objects, but instead, with small piles of rocks; almost as if they were left behind by some pioneering hiker, erecting them as he went deeper into the remote expanses of the park so as to either find his way home, or lead the rescue party to his final resting place. 

This picture doesn't convey how steep and slippery this rockfaces that constituted the trail were. You can see the rockpile 'trail markers' in the foreground.

Some All of the views were amazing, and I had to force myself to lift my gaze up from the 7 feet of terrain ahead of me to take in the scenery.

By this point, I was about 5 miles in, and had done a substantial amount of vertical. Thankfully though, my energy levels only climbed[vii], giving me one last boost in the homestretch back to the trailhead. I was back on the soft-sandy wash, but running faster than I had all morning. I was blazing up hills, and propelling myself with vigor despite the soft, giving surface. Once I got back on the ‘handicap accessible’ main trail, with its smoother surfaces and surer footing, I really accelerated. There was a slightly higher degree of difficulty now as the tourists had started crowding the trail, and they were completely oblivious to everyone and everything beyond their digital camera’s viewfinder. My last mile home was almost a dead sprint, as I felt a stronger connection to the wilderness around me than ever before.

I’ll venture from my mostly objective recount of the experience to try and convey the primitive and savage form of elation that I felt overcome with at this point. I’m a firm believer in the naturalness of running. I believe that we, as a species, evolved and survived thanks largely to our ability to run long distances and effectuate the persistence hunt[viii]. We may have ostensibly lost this connection to nature with the proliferation of treadmills, ultra-cushioned running shoes, iPods, and Big Macs; but it’s still present deep in our DNA and in our most innate emotions. To get off the asphalt and onto the trail is to blow past all modern contrivances and satisfy many of the instincts we have suppressed with civilization and technology[ix]. This is what I felt on the trails in Arches – alone in the wilderness, with an overwhelming urge to move forward and explore, and nothing else mattered. It was an intense focus-on and connection-to the ground underneath me, one that I've rarely felt before, and reminded me that I’m an individual actor, but one in complex and vast ecosystem. I was essentially a dependent of nature at this point, as I was more aware than ever that it was providing me with the sensation of my heart beating and the air I breathed. The best thing I could have done was to embrace the energy and translate it into my run.

With that, I returned to the trailhead and reached the end of my run.

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[i] The backseat of my car.

[ii] Travel tip: get to the park before the Rangers report to work (about 7:30 AM) and you can get in free – saves $10.

[iii] Nerd reference: Star Wars planet.

[iv] About 1 Km.

[v] This boulder was wedged at the base two massive rock walls, effectively making it dead end unless I was able to either drop 30 feet onto hard rock without breaking my legs, or scale the rock walls like Spiderman.

[vi] VERY soft and muddy from the preceding night's rain; almost like running on sand.

[vii] Partially due to the adrenaline rush after one instance where I thought I was completely lost and started thinking about what last message I’d write in the sand to stand as my last words, only to find my way back onto the main trail shortly thereafter.

[viii] Basically, our ancestors in Africa may not have been able to outrun a gazelle over two or three miles, but they could over twenty or thirty, which they did.

[ix] I hope this doesn’t make me sound like the Unabomber – I don’t hate technological and cultural advancement. I’ve waited in iPhone lines for hours and have debated the redeeming qualities of the Twilight Saga. However, I do believe in balancing the modern layer of our society with our most basic instincts – the perpetual adventure in nature for survival.

Mountain Running Roadtrip: Leadville (Part 1 of 2)

This past “weekend”[i] I took a little road trip to the west. I want to be sure I take advantage of my (now limited) time in Colorado and be sure I hit all the destinations that I consider sacred – and my judgment of sacred is likely quite skewed. The plan was to go to Leadville to pace a friend for the last 15 miles of the Leadville 50 Mile Trail Run, then continue westward to Arches National Park in Utah for some scenic, red dirt trail running. Read on to see how strange I am.

Leadville

The first stop of my excursion was Leadville, CO to pace my friend Tony for the last 15 miles of the Leadville 50 mile trail race. Our plan was to meet at an aid station, then climb about 1400' over the next 4 miles before we had a mostly downhill 10 miles to the finish. Tony’s goal was to finish under 8 hours, which would have easily been a Top 10 finish. His ambitious goal (and track record to justify it[ii]) combined with the respect I have for any linear stretch of earth with the appellation "Leadville" before it, made me apprehensive that I'd be able to get through the last 15 miles without being left behind by my friend – who would already have accumulated 35 miles of damage on his body.

Let me make an aside to convey to you why Leadville is the Pebble Beach [with Beth Page Black layered on top of it], of trail running. Leadville is an old mining town 10,000’ feet up in the mountains of Colorado. It used to be known for two things: mining and brothels. Once the brothels were shut down, the Army moved in and discovered that the mountains in the area were great for training its 10^th mountain division. To put it another way, the U.S. Army surveyed the rugged terrain and said “Great! This looks like a perfect place to make our highly trained, elite soldiers suffer”, then set up camp. Move ahead to the early 1980s, and the local mining industry is all but shut down[iii]. With the town slowly suffocating from economic ruin, a local man sought some new means of resuscitation. Creating one of the hardest footraces in the world was his solution, and thus, the Leadville Trail 100 was born. As described in the book Born To Run, first imagine the Boston Marathon course and take away all the spectators and crowd support. Now dump a whole bunch of rocks and roots on the road. Run it twice, but throw in a mountain pass at the end of the second repetition that will take you up 2,000’ and back down. Now, put on a blindfold (to simulate the total darkness of night in the forest), turn around, and do it all again. Oh, and you do this with a sock in your mouth since the air is so thin at 11,000’ you can’t exactly breath well.

Back to my weekend. Unfortunately, Sunday was just 'one of those days' for my friend Tony - the kind that shows up unannounced, unexpected, and at the worst possible time - like Cousin Eddie in the Griswold's driveway. About an hour before our expected meeting time, I started getting texts from Tony saying that his legs were ‘shot’ after 24 miles, and he was feeling nauseous. I tried to do my best ad-hoc pep talk via text message[iv], but to no avail. He dropped after 30 miles, and I drove up the backroads of Colorado mountain country to pick him up. Needless to say, he was more than disappointed, as this was only his second career DNF[v].

The lesson from my Tony’s experience? No matter how much of an endurance junkie you are, don't run 65 miles the week before you attempt a 50-Miler. Respect the taper, and respect the distance. 

Given this abrupt change in plans for the afternoon, I needed to get some miles someway, somehow. This run was supposed to double as an key workout in my taper to my own 50-miler two weeks away[vi]. I still needed to get some miles in for the day, and found myself at the race's start/finish line, so off I went into the out/back course. I wasn’t going to do a full 15 – I just didn’t have the mental agility to wrap my head around a 2+ hour run by myself at that altitude, and on that terrain. Instead, I did 3 miles outbound on the race course, and felt like I was at a good turnaround point. As I was heading out, I passed the leader in the race and the second-place runner on their way to the finish. This was a small thrill of its own, but as I was about to turnaround to go home myself, I saw the third position runner heading my way.

My thought process at this point was probably something like a good herding dog – I came to Leadville to help somebody get to the finish, and damn it, I was going to do it even if it was for a complete stranger. So as the third-place runner approached, I asked if he minded if I ran with him. I don’t blame him for being surprised, as this was an odd and perhaps creepy request. However, once he realized I was serious, he seemed very receptive to the idea. It turns out his name was Joe (you can read his running blog here), and he had won the 50 mile mountain bike race on the same trail the day before. He says he was struggling at the time we crossed paths, but I have to say the man was running very strong.

So off we went down the home stretch. When the trail was wide, I tried to stay a few meters ahead of Joe to be his rabbit; his target to chase. However, when the trail got narrower, I didn’t want to block him in any way or obstruct his vision of the terrain ahead, so I got behind and tried to apply a little ‘pushing’ pressure. As we neared the last turn of the course, I told Joe I was dropping back to make sure I wasn’t anywhere in the background as he approached the finish[vii]. Then, in maybe the coolest sequences of spontaneous synchronicity I’ve ever been a part of, Joe said ‘Thanks’, waved his water bottle at me, then flipped it 12’ straight up so that it would come back down to Earth, ready to be caught, just as I ran underneath it, which I did. With his hands free, Joe was ready for his perfect finishing photograph. I have to commend him on his power and determination over the three miles we ran together, he really showed me how to zip up your Man-Suit and finish like a pro.

With 6+ trail miles at 10,000’, I felt like I got a sufficient enough workout for the day, and said goodbye to Leadville. I can’t say for certain if I’ll ever go back as a racer and not just spectator/pacer, but I have to say the idea doesn’t strike me like the certain death that it once seemed to be.

To be continued: My run in Arches National Park.

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[i] I don’t have a job, so in reality, every day is like Saturday for me. However, the purposes of this post, my ‘weekend’ was Sunday/Monday.

[ii] This guy is a marathon running machine; spending most of his weekends leading 3:10 or 3:20 pace groups in marathons across the country. He seems to only have a vague understanding of the words 'limitation' or 'sanity'.

[iii] By then, the town had become mainly reliant on the mining of Molybdenum, a mineral used in the making of stainless steel. The early fruits of these mountains were prescient of the hardening and refining of runners that would someday tackle their trails.

[iv] “U R GOING TO DO GR8”, “WTF can't quit!”, "GIT'R DUN". I didn't actually say this, but I can imagine that there are people who would actually send messages like this to somebody who had just run 24 miles and felt like crap. I am highly suspect of their effectiveness.

[v] It's fair to note that he has probably started at least 75 races of marathon distance or longer (rough estimate), and the first DNF (and only other) DNF was a 200 mile relay race he tried to run by himself.

[vi] White River 50 on July 30.

[vii] I’ll concede that all runners at this distance (yours truly included) are at least narcissistic enough that if there’s not at least one finish line picture that looks like it could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated, the entire race is slightly tainted for the rest of eternity. Such is the permanent void created by the absence of good photographic evidence.

Article Response: Chuck Klosterman on the Limits of Human Speed

Original Article: Is the Fastest Human Ever Already Alive? (Grantland.com)

In his Grantland.com article, Chuck Klosterman[i] didn't take an opinion one way or the other, but an idea purported is that there are limits to human speed, and the fastest a man can possibly run 100 meters is 9.44 seconds. That’s it, no faster. I think that's a load of bull because it fails to acknowledge two propelling forces that will enable people to continue exceeding standards set by their predecessors: increasing global mean standard of living and the continuing evolution of our species. 

Standard of Living
If you know 19th c. British literature, then you know Oliver Twist; and if you know 21st c. network TV melodrama, then you might know J.D. McCoy. These two fictional characters have almost nothing in common, and that's exactly my point. Oliver Twist is the iconic street urchin of pre-Industrial Revolution England. He subsisted on a regiment of gruel and emotional neglect. His life may not have been the 'typical' life of a child in that time or place, but he certainly wasn't an outlier either. Conversely, if you haven't seen Friday Night Lights[ii], J.D. McCoy is the uber-coached, uber-put-upon son of a dad trying to live out his Joe Montana-dreams vicariously through his moody, hormonal son. There's lots of ways to benefit from the luxuries of the American middle class lifestyle-Joe McCoy (J.D.'s father) just chooses to do it by making his son run stadium stairs until the boy developed something Oedipal[iii]. The kid turned out to be a helluva QB, though.

Now, imagine putting Oliver Twist and J.D. McCoy on the same high school track team today. Poor Oliver's feeble, malnourished musculoskeletal system wouldn't even be able to cover 100 meters before J.D. McCoy crossed the finish line, drank a MetRX protein shake, and tweeted about how much he hates his dad. I have no evidence to indicate the genetics of these two characters differ in any appreciable way, I just mean to demonstrate this: the world today is richer, allowing us to focus on more frivolous pursuits such as running from one point to another with no obvious or productive purpose[iv]. J.D. McCoy didn't have to endure the hardships of life as a street-urchin. Instead, he spent his summers at passing camp and playing Madden. 

Meaning: with the same 'equipment', our world today can achieve better physical achievements on average than in the past[v]. It's a safer bet to assume this progress will continue than not. 

Evolution and Genetics

As a species, we will continue to evolve and accumulate better genetics for athletic pursuits, and we have the incestuous hook-up culture of individual sports tours to thank.

Though they swear they won't force their kids into playing tennis, would you ever bet against the Steffi Graf-Andre Agassi children in a junior mixed-doubles match against Jaden and Willow Smith? No, of course not. Even if the spawn of Graf/Agassi have never seen a Tennis court in their lives, the instant they pick up a racket would be like Harry Potter gripping a magic wand for the first time[vi]. These kids may not be guaranteed tennis deity, but they have a better chance than your kids. 

And with the closed social networks and high school social politics of international, dual-gender tours of international sports (tennis, track and field, swimming), it's only natural that more of these world-class athletes concede to the inevitable and produce super-mutant-freak-athletic babies bound to dominate the sporting world in ways we haven't seen. Andre Agassi/Steffi Graf, Ryan Hall/Sara Hall, I'll even throw in Maria Sharapova and Sasha Vujacic

[vii]. 

None of these children will be surefire record-beaters, but they will increase the probabilities of a super-Usain Bolt being created. And this effect of mutual attraction of high caliber athletes will trickle down to lower levels with the aforementioned proliferation of recreational sports. The more our relative global affluence allows one to do ridiculous things with one’s free time like run marathons, the better one can identify those with superior genes in these sports; and the better one can identify a genetic peer in the opposite sex, the more one will be compelled to jump their bones[viii]. For example, it was obvious from the very beginning that the “Saved By The Bell” wedding would be Zach and Kelly instead of Slater and Jessie

[ix]. Opposites attracting is B.S.

Other examples of mutual attraction of athletic attributes:

• A very fast-running woman who I work out with sometimes is married to a very fleet-footed man whom she met in college, and whom also ran collegiate track . She described her initial attraction to him as noticing his ‘cute legs’. What other type of person would think this, let alone be attracted to a male’s lower appendages?
• My friends Matt & Emily (married). Matt had already run a few marathon when they met, then ran with Emily as she finished her first 26.2. How could you not prove yourself as ‘spouse material’ after that experience together?

The consequence: More mutually-athletic couples -> Super-genetic babies -> Higher probabilities of Usain Bolt 2.0.  These improvements in the gene pool won’t be quantum leaps[x], but almost imperceptibly incremental. Don’t think about going from Henry Ford’s Model-T to a Lamborghini. Instead, think of going from a Lamborghini to a Lamborghini with slightly modified headlamps that reduce the drag coefficient by 0.1%. The progress is slight, but it’s still progress.

Putting It All Together

More athletes with good genetics + Better resources and knowledge of training = continually increasing athletic performance.

This trend will only stop once:

•  The entire world has achieved such affluence that robots take care of all our needs, freeing us up to engage exclusively in recreational activities[xi], and 
• We’ve bred out all of the ‘fatties’ in the gene pool.

Barring an epic technical revolution (like Google colliding with a Star Trek Warp Drive in the Large Hadron Collider) and Nazi-style eugenics coming back in style, I don’t see either of these conditions becoming satisfied anytime soon. Thus, 9.44 seconds for the 100 meters isn't an asymptotic boundary for performance. Rather, there aren't any limits until a human comes along that can literally launch himself from the starting blocks past the finish line in a single, 100 meter-long leap that nears the speed of light. However, the Sun will likely swallow the Earth before this happens.

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[i] The best writer of the MTV generation.

[ii] And that is virtually everybody, which is a shame.

[iii] Author’s conjecture.

[iv] The idea of expending so much energy for ‘fun’ would sound as foreign to Oliver Twist as ingesting Uranium would to us.

[v] Or rather, we are more likely to be born into a family situation with the resources of the McCoy's today than we were 150 years ago. In fact, 150 years ago, the concepts of 'weight training' or 'sports nutrition' didn’t even exist. Who knows what we are completely ignorant of today that will be commonplace in 75 years? The article even notes that we have no idea why a sprinter applies as much force as they do against the ground. Maybe we'll figure out some day that is because of superior neck muscles, leading to a revolution in neck-exercising routines? Point: we just don't know, and what we don't know, we can't improve. 

[vi] I’m assuming. This can’t be proven because we all know magic isn’t real. Tennis genius, however, is.

[vii] This baby will surely be freakishly tall, feminine looking, and imminently unlikeable (a dominant genetic trait from the father). 

[viii] Term of science.

[ix] Oops, spoiler alert. Also, I seriously doubt Jessie could shoot a basketball, making her a poor match for BMOC A.C. Slater. This proved prescient as A.C. went on to host Extra and various shows on Animal Planet, while Jessie Spanos is MIA after she moved to Las Vegas and took her clothes off for money.

[x] The type purported in X-Men, which made the movies completely unenjoyable for me.

[xi] And we all know how that ends: Skynet.

17 Easy Steps: Why Fluffer Nutter Frozen Yogurt is Making Me Lose My Mind

I'm currently reading The Omnivore's Dilemma, which reminds me that, at the most basic level, I am a calorie-consuming-and-kinetic-energy-converting machine. Also, my dustiest memories of fifth grade science class tell me that sugar is the most direct route of the calorie-to-kinetic-energy process. This starts me down a dubious logical chain that has been slowly driving me insane over the last few weeks:

1. If my most basic mission is to consume and convert calories into kinetic energy, then I should be genetically programmed to consume as much sugar as I can (the easiest source of calories).
2. If I'm genetically programmed to consume as much sugar as I can, then I should constantly crave sweet tasting foods.
3. If I constantly crave sweet tasting foods, then Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt is the perfect food: it's sweet and delicious, and easily accessible.
4. If Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt is the perfect food, then I should eat lots of it.
5. If I eat lots of it, I'm probably eating too much.
6. If calories consumed exceed calories expended, I get fat (Calories In - Calories Out = Net Calorie Gain).
7. I'm not a caveman, and don't need to worry about famines anytime soon (and thus, draw upon my stored fat reserves).
8. If I'm not a caveman, and I eat lots of Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt, then I'll become wildly obese.
9. Since I don't want to become wildly obese, I need to increase my calories expended.
10. To increase my calories expended, I need to run.
11. The more I run, the more Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt I can eat, and the more Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt I eat, the more calories I can convert to kinetic energy.
12. The more Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt I convert to kinetic energy to run so I can eat more Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt, the more prone I am to injury and over-training.
13. If I am more prone to injury and over-training, then I will inevitably have to take rest days from running.
14. If I take rest days from running, then I don't expend enough calories to justify my appetite for Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt.
15. If I don't expend enough calories to justify my appetite for Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt, I shouldn't eat it.
16. If I don't eat Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt, then I fail to fulfill my mission as a calorie-consuming machine.
17. If I fail to fulfill my mission as a calorie-consuming machine, I slowly start losing my mind.

As you can tell, Fat-Free Fluffer-Nutter Frozen-Yogurt is clearly the antecedent to a disastrous spiral of doom and moping about not being able to run enough.

Training Week Recap - June 5, 2011

Week Summary:
72 miles
11 hours
4750' Elevation Gain


Monday - 9 miles, hard effort


Today was a race day - I participated in the 33rd Bolder Boulder 10k, one of the biggest races in the country. How big is this race?

• There were 54,000 runners
• Everyone started in waves, beginning with A, AA, AB, B, BA and on, all the way to down to about PD, PE, & PF
• Wave start times began at 7 AM, and lasted until sometime after 9 AM
• Age groups where single years, as in I was in the 27 - 27 age group

The race itself wasn't a spectacular effort for me. The course was tough - the elevation was around 5300', and featured several tough hills and a lot of twists and turns. On top of that, I didn't exactly taper, having done a 17 miler 2 days before, and an extra 5 the day before. That said, it was an awesome way to celebrate Memorial Day, and the city of Boulder really came out in full force to celebrate the race.

The finish line in the Colorado University football stadium

Not feeling so hot around the 8k mark

Approaching the finish. Still feeling like pooh.

Tuesday - 5.4 miles, 1540' Elevation Gain

Having done a fair amount of hard-pounding running on concrete the day before, I decided this would be a good day to head up to the trails in the mountains. I got a good climbing workout on the Mesa Trail around Bear Peak.

Wednesday - 21.2 miles


I needed to start getting some good slow distance work in, so I went long today even though I had done a 17 miler just 4 days prior. I headed out to the Boulder Reservoir, and looped my way around there for 3 hours, of which I did about 6 miles with my sister and one of her friends. Good, long day.



Thursday - 3.75 miles + Cross-Training


Having gone long yesterday on already fatigued legs, I didn't feel up to much today; but I still tried to get a good morning of work in anyways. I slept in, then did 30 minutes easy on a paved path along one of the creeks in town, then hopped in the pool for 30 minutes of water running, which wiped me out much more than the running did.

If you haven't done water running, it's a kick in the ass. The activity is exactly what it sounds like - an upright running motion in water (without touching the floor of the pool). Not only are you constantly pumping your feet and arms just to stay afloat, but you are getting a tremendous amount of resistance from the water. It's also low-impact, which makes it ideal for rehab or cross-training. Give it a try next time you want a fast, hard workout.


Friday - 10.33 miles, 1230' Elevation Gain


I headed up early for a run on Bear Peak. This was another good climbing session on a technical trail, but I also was fortunate enough to have my phone on me, which allowed me to grab a few pictures. I got 6 miles in on the trail during this morning run. Later, I went back out for 4 easy miles on one of the paved paths in town to grab some extra miles.

Bear Peak from the parking lot

I saw this guy on the trail, not 10 feet away from me after I turned a corner

I believe this is Green Mountain, which is adjacent to Bear Peak

Looking back down on an uphill portion of the Mesa Trail

Just a cool tree along the path

One of the few exposed portions of trail above a canyon

Another section of trail along the side of Green Mountain

A look down the side of Green Mountain

Saturday - 11.5 miles w/ interval work

Had a workout with the Running Republic of Boulder. I ran from my apartment to the meeting place for the group (about a 2.4 mile warm-up), then did the interval workout: 6 mins, 4x2 mins, 6 mins, all at about 10k to Half-Marathon pace. This took a lot of effort, and was with a really fast group, which forced me to push it hard. Afterwards, I ran back home to tack on a few extra miles, making for a solid morning of work. The pancake feast afterwards with my brother-in-law and nephew was extra motivation.

Sunday - 11.3 miles, 1100' Elevation Gain

This was probably the toughest workout I've had yet in Boulder. I met up with a group of about a dozen other runners in town, and we all piled into 3 cars to venture into the mountains. After 20 minutes of winding through canyons and narrow roads, we parked in what seemed like a remote intersection of 2 dirt roads, deep in a canyon created by about 4 different mountain ridges. From there, we took off on a dirt road (perhaps ironically) called Wall St., that ran parallel to creek that cut through a deep and heavily wooded canyon. The road started at a 5% uphill grade, and barely deviated from that pitch the entire run - which was 5.5 miles. 5.5 miles, all uphill, and we started at about 6600' of elevation.

I was totally unprepared for this. First, I didn't know how long the run would be. Second, I had no comprehension of how much climbing was involved. Third, I didn't carry any water with me for the first two reasons. The group I was with were solid altitude runners and climbers, so they motored their way uphill. I tried to stick with them, but after 2 miles, fell into a walk/run routine to try and make it to the summit. After 5.5 miles of running 1100' uphill, I reached the turnaround. That was when the fun finally began, because for every suffocating foot of climbing I did, I had a foot of downhill that I could bomb. The instant I turned around, I went from being restrained by how well my lungs could supply air to my muscles to being held back by only how quickly I could turn over my feet on a rockin' downhill. If I did about a 9:30 to 10:00 pace going up, I was going sub-7:15 on the down. For as much agony as I had in the first half, I had equal amounts of excitement on the way down.

THIS was the exact kind of workout and trail I need to do more to get ready for my ultra. I can't wait to make it back into these canyons for some tough climbing at elevation.

Lastly, perhaps the highlight of the morning, despite the awesome run and beautiful canyon, came on the drive back in to town. The road we were on ran parallel to the Boulder creek path, and running towards the canyons (opposite our direction), I spotted Tony Krupicka - perhaps my favorite ultra runner right now! He was likely on one of his epic 30 mile training runs (the guy logs about 140 to 170 miles a week here in Boulder). Anyways, with his signature long hair, beard, and shirtless attire, I'm 100% confident it was him. I felt like a 'tween girl who saw Robert Pattinson drinking a Bloody Mary. 

My Last Few Runs & The Bolder Boulder

Wednesday


9 miles in the morning around town, then 3 miles up & down Mt. Sanitas in the afternoon. The mountain run was phenomenal - tough climb uphill for some good scenery over the city of Boulder, then bombed it on the way down.


Thursday


I went out to the Boulder Reservoir for the first time. 10 mostly flat miles on a cool but sunny morning.


Friday


I wanted to take it easy, but still wanted to get some trail work in, so I headed up to Bear Peak Trail. 5 miles took me about 65 minutes, but considering all was above 6000' and included 1200' of climbing, and I felt it was a good morning effort.



Saturday

I'd been having a lot of 'long-run anxiety' recently. It had been almost three weeks since my last long run: the Bear Mountain 50k. With the White River 50 mile looming about 9 weeks away now, I need to start planning for my last few big runs. Ideally, I'll get in 2 more 30 milers before the race, which means probably at least 3 or 4 more 20 milers. Factor in the 3 week taper, and that doesn't leave a whole lot of time. Today was the best chance to get in a long day.

I started early (for me) at 6:45 and got in 5 miles easy, then did a workout with the Running Republic of Boulder (my new group). That totaled 5 more miles, including 2x5 minute intervals. Then I wrapped up with 7 miles easy around the Boulder Reservoir. 17 total on the day plus some speed work, the new Colorado altitude and 1200' of vertical I did yesterday; and I was satisfied with the work.



Next Week


Monday I'm running in the Bolder Boulder, one of the biggest races in the country. I'm not really 'racing' it, but just trying to enjoy the experience of running a race with about 60,000 participants. The finish is in the University of Colorado's football stadium, which should be an awesome atmosphere. It should be a great way to celebrate Memorial Day.

My First 3 Days In Boulder

I've had 72 hours and six runs to get a lay of the land out here. So far, it's been a mix of hypoxia from the altitude, chills from the weather, and fatigue from the climbing.

Each morning, I've gone out for runs on flat courses. The last three days were distances of 6, 4, and 9 miles respectively. The degree of difficulty of these workouts hasn't been high; they've just been efforts to build up my mileage and get adjusted to the climate.

My afternoon runs have been when I've had my fun. My first day, Monday, I went up to Bear Peak trail. This is where Anton Krupicka, my favorite ultra-runner, makes his money. He runs up this 2000' peak about 300 times a year. I tried a fraction of his daily workout and was wiped. The trail was thickly wooded along a ridge that wound its way up this Flatiron. The run was short, but still got several hundred feet of climbing in. I look forward to taking my runs further up the mountain to increase my mileage.

Bear Peak, one of the Flatirons in Boulder

Tuesday afternoon, I ran with my sister's running group, the Running Republic of Boulder. This is an impressive collection of runner's, with several qualifiers for the Olympic trials and a coach with significant credentials. We did some good, hard intervals, and totaled 8 miles on the workout. My plan is to do speed workout with this group regularly on Saturdays. This will be an important part of my training to ensure my legs still have good turnover in them late in the White River 50.

Lastly, this afternoon (Wednesday), I went up Mt. Sanitas for some good climbing. The trail wasn't technical (it was mostly just a gravel road), but was a consistent and steady climb. It probably took me 20 minutes to run about 1.6 miles up and gain about 500' in elevation, but only about 10 minutes to get down. That was the most fun part; bombing the downhill with a controlled fall.

All in all, I've done about 34 miles through my first 3 days, and a large portion of that has been high quality. I'm happy with my start, and look forward to what I'll be able to do when I get use to the altitude.

Summer Training Camp in Boulder

Sooooo, I moved to Boulder for the next 10 weeks. I have this space of time between finishing graduate school and beginning my new job, so I figured "what the hell?, why not go up into the mountains and run a whole bunch so I can reward myself with a 50 mile race at the end of the Summer?" And that's exactly what I'm doing. And I plan on writing about it. A lot. So get ready.

Undie Run 1 Mile

Friday night I ran in only my second 1-mile distance race, a length I'm not trained for or accustomed to. Fortunately, I felt no nerves or self-consciousness because literally, everyone else was in their underwear.

The race, the Tulsa Area Trail & Ultra Runners Undie Run, is in its inaugural running, but has some big local sponsors behind it (mostly just popular bars). Thematically, everyone was supposed to come and run in nothing but their underwear. Conceptually this would be great it if the quantity of clothing was negatively correlated with physical fitness. However, this relationship didn't always (or rarely) held true. Anyways, still a fun atmosphere. The hope is it will become a big annual event in the city, and after experiencing it myself, I share that aspiration.

The attire ranged from 'crowd pleasing' to 'grimace inducing'. Some girls wore thongs which showed a little more jiggling than would be desired, while some guys had speedos, but had anything but a swimmers physique. Others were more creative and funny; the best was a 50 year old man in Care Bears footy pajamas.

The event started at 7 P.M. in a cloudy, muggy, but rainless twilight. The temperature sat comfortably at about 72 - warm enough to provoke a nice sheen of sweat, but not too hot to cause overheating in the few minutes of maximal exertion required to race one mile. First, there was the 'fun run', or more descriptively, the 'slow, drunk, underwear parade'. This drew at all types, mostly because they handed out Jello-shots at the 1/4 and 3/4 mile marks.

I decided last minute to 'run' this 'race' just as part of my warm-up. I'd be running during that time anyway to get ready for the 'competitive' race later, so I figured why not do it with the masses. I took the first 1/3 of a mile easy, but as I had planned on doing in my normal warm-ups, I then picked up my pace a little to get my legs prepared for the full mile spring I'd have about 25 minutes later. It didn't take long before I realized I had jetted past the entire field and had come upon the 'leaders'. It was at this point that I realized there really is no pride in winning a fun run, and I didn't want to look like the narcissistic jerk going all out. You know that scene in Billy Madison where Billy dominates in dodge ball? That's what I wanted to avoid. So, I dialed it back and hung with one or two other guys at the front, and finished the race for a good warm-up.

The competitive race was at 7:30. The field shrank considerably since the fun run to only about 60 people. However, since a big chunk of even these folks were already drunk, there was an abnormally high proportion of DNFs for a 1 mile race. Some of these drunks also thought it'd be fun to start at the front of the pack (which is very poor etiquette if you don't already know), but got sufficiently elbowed and pushed early on that I think they learned their lesson. Anyways, after only about 400m, the field thinned at appropriately.

(8 hours later)

OK, so I took a break from writing this post, and now I don't even really care about the details of the race anymore. So I'll just wrap it up and said I finished in about 5:40, which was good for 4th. fun night.

-John

Race Report - North Face Endurance Challenge - Bear Mountain 50 km

The Setup

The race was at Bear Mountain State Park, which is about 50 miles up the Hudson River from NYC. The park was massive, replete with heavily-wooded, mountainous ridges and a handful of small lakes and ponds. The weather was perfect too, sunny and in the low 50s at the 7 AM start. North Face also did a really good job of organizing and operating the event (this was just one of a series of 6 endurance challenges they do across the country each year). Even though there were maybe only ~700 people running all the races on Saturday (Marathon, 50k & 50m), they had a big, elaborate start/finish village with heat lamps, tents, food, and seating areas. Really just a well-run operation.

The course overall spent almost three-fourths of its length going up or down, and probably two-thirds on loose, sharp boulders in dry riverbeds. Perfect quad-bursting and ankle twisting-conditions. To set the scene, I'll just throw together a bunch of adjectives, ad-verbs, and descriptive clauses that I feel are appropriate and effective:

Rocky, climbing, mean, ankle-twisting, thorny, unsympathetic, deceiving, sharp, repetitive but not monotonous, falling, loose, narrow, dark, sunny, sloppy and muddy, crowded and sparse, isolating, and temperamental.

The First 10 Miles

Once the race started, about 250 of us set off. I tried to stay close to the back of the pack early to avoid the trap of getting caught up in the fast pace at the front. The first half mile was relatively benign, just some flat, smooth, double-wide trail, and I fell into the pace of the group at around 10 min/mile. After that, the fun started with the first prolonged up, then steep, hazardous down; each segment lasting about maybe a quarter to a half mile with one or two hundred feet in elevation change. That pattern pretty much repeated over and over for the first 10 miles, which took me about 1:50 to finish. Mentally, I was just trying to get through it with as little damage and fatigue as possible.

I also learned a lot very quickly in this early segment. Given my substantial inexperience in trail running, trail racing, and unfamiliarity with the course, my strategy coming in was very primitive and ill-informed. I basically had the expectation of power-hiking the uphills, and making up my ground on the downs and flats; and if I did that, then I should finish in about five hours. However, it was also a big risk that my strategy would get discarded on the trail like a used Gu-packet, as these strategies often are in the midst of competition. However, I stuck to it, which was easy to do since everyone else in the race seemed to be employing the same plan of attack. This lead me to my second key lesson about trail racing: play the course 'to par'. Like in golf I just wanted to cover each segment with the same efficiency as the average person. This made me feel a lot better about taking 10 minutes to get through a half mile in some nasty parts - I just reminded myself that I wasn't actually losing any ground to the field.

The Second 10 miles

The next 10 miles were a mix of some more ups and downs, but with a very nice, soft, and un-rocky flat-stretch of about 2 miles around mile 15. While this felt good on my feet and in my climbing/descending muscle groups, it actually broke my concentration. I have never done too much trail running, but I really benefited from the necessary concentration the trail commands to ensure you don't trip on a root or step sideways on a rock. Staying focused on the the 5 to 10 feet ahead of me made for a great distraction to not realize how tired I was getting or how much longer I'd have to work to finish. Hitting that flat, easy stretch freed up enough of my mental faculties and let my mind start drifting and realizing I was still only half-way down after about three hours.

Also at about this time, I caught up with another runner (the field had become pretty stretched out at this point, such that I usually had about fifty to a hundred yardss in either direction to the next runner), a guy named Kris who I ended up spending most of the next 15 miles with. This was a huge help for the both of us, as we each had somebody to be directly accountable to, and also to compete with. I was thinking 'no way am I going to drop behind and let him get ahead of me', and I'm sure he was thinking the same. Turns out we actually had a lot in common, and he provided me with a ton of experience, as this was the fourth time he'd run this race.

I've also got to mention how fantastic the aid stations were. All were well stocked, and staffed with very helpful people. Every time I came in to one, somebody took my water bottle from me, asked me what I was drinking, and filled it. I had my bottle back in my hand in no more than 15 seconds, full of fresh, cold water. I usually grabbed a small banana, some pretzels, and half a PBJ sandwich; shoved it all in my mouth; and was back out on the trail in no more than 2 minutes. The people who volunteer at these stations are doing God's work.

The Last 10.6 Miles

After I had 20 miles behind me (and four hours on the trail), it became much easier to start thinking about the end and pushing myself through - my mindset shifted from conserving energy to expending whatever I had left. The sun was also getting higher in sky, which started lifting the temperature a little and increasing the strain. Miles 20 to 25 were relatively benign (relative being a very important adjective in this context, as they still required a ton of climbing and steep descending).
The last 6 miles had a bit of a strange set-up, as there was an aid station around mile 25, then another one just about 2.5 miles later. The reason for this was the section of trail between these two points was referred to simply as "Hell". This consisted mainly of climbing and descending on two ridges, each several hundred feet high, each equally steep. Imagine climbing halfway up and down the rockiest parts of your favorite mountain, minus all the flat, runnable segments, and without all the 'safety precautions' installed by the parks department; then doing it again; and all after running 25 miles of an otherwise very difficult trail. At times, the description of 'death march' seemed like an appropriate appellation for that stretch of trail. The last descent was so treacherous due to its grade, abundance of jagged rocks, and complete absence of solid footing that they had two medics waiting at the bottom. This was also when my partner for the last dozen or so miles, Kris, separated himself from me. His experience clearly paid dividends on the descents, as he was able to pick his footing on the loose, sharp rocks much faster and more efficiently than I cared to attempt, given I don't have a reckless abandon for breaking my neck or dying alone in the forest. His performance during this section could best be described as a 'controlled fall', while mine was a 'reluctant tip-toe'.

Anyways, I got through that and to the next aid station, which was the beginning of the end. All that was left was a three mile 'victory lap', which seemed like a chip shot at that point. I felt so strong at this late stage, that I began worrying that maybe I hadn't gone out as hard as I could have. Regardless, I had a strong finish (except for the one root that I finally tripped on and completely crashed after about a dozen close calls earlier in the race), and crossed the finish line actually feeling a little fresh - six hours and twenty-eight minutes after I started.   

All-in-all, it was a fantastic morning. The weather was perfect, the trail really kept me in a focused state, and I was fortunate that my body was just ready and energetic on that day.

The Beginning of The End of The Beginning

Tomorrow I’m kicking off my summer racing season with the North Face Endurance Challenge Bear Mountain 50k. After that, I leave New York for good. I’ll spend the summer running the mountains around Boulder, CO; then compete in the White River 50 around Mt. Rainier in Washington. After that, it's down to Dallas, TX – where I’ll begin my post-graduate school career. The summer will be intense and challenging, and that’s exactly how I want it because once I reenter the professional world, I’m accepting that my growth stage, at least as a runner, is over. I’ll begin a new phase that will be less about ambition and more about realization. My running will change from an exercise in dreaming about what I could be to exploiting what I actually am.

Over the last 9 years, since I went from a pudgy high school senior to manic endurance runner, I’ve never been able to keep up with my ambitions. When I stepped on my first treadmill, I anxiously anticipated the day I could last more than 20 minutes. When I finished my first 10K, my thoughts immediately turned to the next hurdle: a 15k. Half Marathons followed, then eventually, the Marathon. Once I entered the ‘Ultra’ category, however, I felt satisfied. While there is still room for me to progress in terms of distance, I feel reasonably satisfied that my life won’t be incomplete if I never finish a 100 miler. Accomplishing myself at the 50 mile distance should be enough to tide my appetite.

Me and my Dad after my first organized race, the LMU 10k in April, 2003

After the White River 50 in late July, I’m hanging up the Ultra boots (at least for a while), to reprioritize and focus on my new job. If I can redirect the energy, sacrifice, and enthusiasm I’ve channeled into my running, I’m confident I’ll succeed just as much professionally as I have athletically. Without bogging one down with too many details, I won’t be able to approach my new career half-heartedly. That means no more obsessing about getting enough sleep before my next workout; no more distractions from my work responsibilities to obsess about my fitness and preparation; and more early mornings filled with emails instead of speed work. With less time and energy for my running, I doubt I’ll be able to train properly for a Half Marathon, let alone any Ultras. Never before have I willingly taken such a step backwards in my running career.

Running the Lost Dutchman Half Marathon in February, 2009

Instead, my racing and running will be defined by what is possible after I meet my other priorities; while in the past the converse has been true. Maybe I’ll refocus on 10Ks and 5Ks to build my speed, or maybe I’ll just run Halfs at a recreational pace. I don’t know the outcome now, but I do know things will change.

After the Niagara Falls International Marathon in November, 2010 - the start of a great Winter of racing

So now, I’m starting the beginning of the end of the first phase in my running lifetime. These last 9 years have been the opening act. I have no idea what will happen in the next phase, but there’s no utility in fretting about that now. Instead, I’m paying attention to running a good 50K tomorrow at Bear Mountain, which will give me a good expectation of what I’ll be capable of later in the Summer at the White River 50 Miler – the closing scene on the beginning of my life as a runner.

-John

An Arrogant and Arbitrary Decision by Your Correspondent

I'm easily influenced by my emotions. However, I like to think that because I know this and am aware of it, it negates the condition. Yet this attitude only leads me to distort my instincts and decisions in over-reaction to my emotions, which has the ultimate effect of just making me wildly unpredictable and almost random in behavior. The resulting internal dialogue is something like this:

I feel like this counter-emotional construct can explain probably 62% of my decisions that don't appear logical or well thought-out on the surface. A decision I made this past Monday reflects this abstract process: I will run a sub-3:00 marathon someday.


As my good fortune (or poor foresight) would have it, I had a three hour class on the morning of Patriots Day, which meant I would miss the entirety of the Boston Marathon's professional race. Instead of enjoying the live video coverage, as I would have preferred, I had to settle for furious updates of my twitter feed to get race developments in 140 character snippets. It actually turned out to be a compelling way to follow the race, but in the same sense that one's grandfather discusses listening to Bobby Thompson's 'Shot Hears Around The World' on the family radio in his childhood living room.


Two stories emerged from that race that led to my poorly-developed idea. The first was the wire-to-wire excitement of the women's race. Kim Smith's surge from the beginning and aggressive style was a show of bravado and confidence that I could only envy. She couldn't have possibly been a favorite to win this race, and to call her aggression a 'surprise' is like calling the sunrise 'predictable'. The alluring part of it though was the Kim Smith didn't know she wasn't supposed to dominate the race until injury took her down. She may have crashed and burned, but she did so gloriously. Bon Jovi would have been proud. As if that weren't sufficient, Desi Davila grabbed the baton from Smith's unraveling body and made a courageous run at winning the whole thing; falling just two seconds shy in an incredible sprint at the end. Like Smith, Davila wasn't supposed to win, place, or show either. She has been in the shadow of two women named Kara and Shalane in the marathon circuit the last few years, but firmly asserted herself yesterday as third of the American Woman's Marathon triumvirate. This wasn't a placement that was given to her, but one she earned the hard way. Again, she jumped up from relative anonymity to grab everyone's attention, kind of like Tim Riggins in a Texas State Championship Game (or bar filled with single women).


Secondly, the men's race and systematic demolishing of several records*. Geoffrey Mutai's World Record (or 'fastest marathon ever'? I lose track) and Ryan Hall's American Record were both just awesome. They go to show that when one prepares and puts themselves in a good position enough times, eventually, everything will come together at once and create the race of a lifetime.


The common thread of all these storylines is runners who raised their standards beyond anyone's expectations. No one, maybe not even Kim Smith, expected her to carry the lead for as long as she did. Who foresaw Desi Davila finishing two seconds out of first? And if you bet on both the World and American records for the men to fall, then you probably have a gambling problem. The inner workings of my id and my ego are as much of a black box to me as they are to you, but I do know this: the excitement of yesterday's Boston Marathon went in, and a new resolve to run a three hour marathon came out.


My current PR (set back in January at the Rock & Roll Arizona Marathon) is 3:06, but that required every bit of guts and will power I had. Can I reasonably expect to shave six minutes off that time? Maybe, maybe not. Is it arrogant of me to think I can? Probably. Is this an overly-emotional reaction? Likely, but again, I like to think acknowledgement of this influence countervails it. So hopefully whatever goes into the subconscious decision making process that plants ideas like this in my mind has taken that into consideration. Thus, my decision (as if it really were just that simple to declare future achievements and results) is probably irrational, and certainly arrogant, but it's the one I've made.


26.2 miles. 3 hours. I'll figure out the rest later.


-John


*I'm going to pretend that the Boston Marathon course actually is eligible for record setting. Saying it's not is like saying the Green Monster in Fenway Park doesn't allow for 'real' home runs to be hit over it.

White River 50 Training Progress

I decided I want to start posting brief updates on my progress towards the White River 50 this July. I don't intend these to be just a banal list of my workouts and results, but more of a mental accounting of where I am in my confidence and psychological readiness. This is because while we can't all compare on distances and paces, but we can relate on the mental aspect of running and racing.

This morning I went out for an easy 8.5 after a good 16 yesterday. I had a critical thought and breakthrough around mile 8 - I was cruising over a rocky and muddy part of the Central Park Bridle Path, when I check my distance and time on the run. I was getting close to my target for the day, but realized I wasn't fazed or tired - at all. I felt as fresh after 8 miles and 60 minutes as I did after 1 mile (and if not, even fresher). I know I'm in a good place 3 months out of the race when 8 miles is a yawner, even after running 16 the day before.

Keep on movin',

-John