Sempre a Correr

The Report

2009-07-09T05:57:00.000-07:00

As I've already alluded to to, Western States 2009 was not the race I was hoping for. Once again I was beaten into submission by this event. However, I'm not feeling nearly as deflated, following this year's race, as I have each of the past three summers. Although I ultimately gave up, it didn't come without a real fight, and I'm proud of that.

In 2006, I had the race in the bag, only to mismanage the final 2.9 miles and ultimately ended up with a win-that-was-not and a trip to the hospital. As you might imagine, that was an incredibly bitter pill to swallow. At this point, I can look back on that race with a great deal of pride, but at the time I couldn't find anything positive in that experience. 2007 was a huge disappointment for me and a race that I'm not proud of at all. I was in very good shape leading up to the race, most likely even a bit overtrained. I became sick a couple of weeks before the race and had not recovered by race day. Knowing better, I went against my gut instinct and started the race. The end result was a drop only 35 miles into the course . It was a frustrating day all the way around. In 2008, all of us who had spent the last year preparing, making sacrifices, had the rug yanked right out from under us. Forest fires in the region forced the cancellation of the race for the first time in 35 years. To put all the hard work and focus into such a big moment only to have it snatched away was probably the most devastating blow I've been dealt by Western States. This year, although ultimately disappointing, has felt a lot less demoralizing than my previous three tries.

Okay, so what happened out there? Well as I had mentioned leading up to the race, I was fighting a really nasty bug. However, I must admit that I felt pretty dang good by Wednesday. Heck, I was even feeling pretty spunky on Tuesday. I left Seattle around 6:30 am and arrived in Auburn about 8 o'clock. Feeling antsy and needing to stretch my legs, I drove down to the river and ran from No Hands Bridge to Highway 49 and back. The warm air and the smooth trail were just the ticket after being crammed in the car for close to 13 hours. On Wednesday I ran about an hour at Diamond Peak, a small resort above Lake Tahoe. That too felt good, and my mindset really began to shift. I thought, "Maybe all this rest really will pay off." Thursday was more of the same, as I met up with some friends and headed up to Five Lakes Basin. Running uphill at 6 or 7 thousand feet was surprisingly effortless. I was convinced, really convinced, that I was going to pop a great race on Saturday. Friday rolled around and I felt very relaxed and confident. I stayed well hydrated throughout the day and ate well. As I laid in bed Friday night, I envisioned what it would feel like crossing that finish line upright, and in the top ten. That's really what I thought possible.

Western States had something different in mind for me, as it turned out. The day started out well enough. Besides following the lead pack up a wrong turn in the first mile, the initial 22 miles felt smooth. I was able to drink consistently and eat every half hour. Loping into Duncan Canyon, I was able to see my crew for the first time. I was in the top twenty, and I felt like I was just biding my time. With the field assembled this year, I knew that guys would go out very fast and most would probably end up paying the price. My plan was to move up as the pace and heat exacted their toll on the frontrunners later in the day.

Unfortunately things don't always go as planned, especially in hundred milers. Oh, there was carnage alright, but I was part of it too. Shortly after leaving Duncan Canyon, my stomach began to feel unsettled. I'm still not sure why, but as I left Robinson Flat, I placed my hands on my thighs while bent over and purged the contents of my stomach, EV-ER-Ything in my stomach. Worst of all, I didn't really feel any better. I walked a bit and tried to calm my gut, but still something wasn't right. I'll spare some of the gory details, but by the time my crew saw me again at Dusty Corners, I had begun to show some real wear and tear. "How are you feeling, Brian," Andrea asked. "Not good," I said. "I've been throwing up." Determined to get beyond Dusty Corners, I swapped my bottles and waistpack and slowly jogged down the trail. The trail is mostly downhill from Dusty Corners to Last Chance, but my insides were in such turmoil that I had to walk. My stomach was empty at this point, and I knew that I needed to get some fuel onboard. Gels weren't tasting good, or staying down for that matter, so I went for the solid food. Peeling the wrapper back I began to take small bites of my burrito. It didn't taste great, but it was an improvement over the gels and blocks.

About a mile or so before Last Chance, a group of about 4 0r 5 runners passed me, and I was able to fall in behind them and run for a bit. Being that I hadn't kept anything down for a few hours, I expected to be down in weight as I stepped onto the scale at Last Chance. It read 168. I was 43 miles in and only a pound down. The descent from LC down to the Swinging Bridge actually felt doable. In fact, I only threw up once before crossing the bridge and beginning the heinous climb up the Devil's Thumb. For the first time all day, I was really starting to feel the heat. As I bent down to soak my visor in the creek, Krissy passed me. She too seemed to be going through a rough patch, but we agreed to tackle the thumb together. Well, she turned out to be stronger than I, and it took everything in my power just to keep her in my sight. As we neared the top, it became obvious to me that my mind was beginning to lose a battle with my body. I felt nearly as weak as I ever have, as I rounded the final switch back and trudged into the aid station. I was honestly starting to have flashbacks to my climb up Robie Point in 2006, so I knew I had to get things under control or else there may be trouble. This time my weight was 167.5. I still had not lost any significant weight, so that was somewhat reassuring. I plopped myself down into a folding chair and luxuriated in the sensation of being off my feet.

It didn't take long before the volunteers started asking questions. I explained to them that I had thrown up everything that I'd ingested for the last 18 miles. Not only that, on the climb up to the Thumb, I began dry heaving, because at that point there was nothing in my stomach. They told me that I looked good and seemed very alert and mentally on the ball. Eventually I was able to eat a little bit of fruit and a couple of popsicles. Ginger ale too, seemed to go down without issue. I threw up a couple of times while seated, but eventually the food and drink stayed down. As a precaution, one of the volunteers took my blood pressure. It was a little low while seated, and it was dropping a bit when I stood up. I still don't quite understand what that means physiologically, but the med volunteers took note of it. After about an hour of sipping water, broth and ginger ale, I stood up and decided to attempt to make it at least to my crew at Michigan Bluff, another 7 miles away.

Much to my relief, Jeff Phillips had just come through Devil's Thumb, so I was able to catch up to him and make the descent into El Dorado Canyon with company. We both commented on the heat, yet it never felt as hot to me as 2006. We reached the river together, and I was feeling reassured, having not thrown up for some time. I refilled my water bottles and grabbed two Oreos as we began the steady climb up to Michigan Bluff. The cookies tasted good and went down without issue, however as I neared the halfway point up the climb, I was again doubled over and vomiting. "This F'ing sucks," I thought, as I tried to wipe my mouth with my dusty singlet. Within a mile of the aid station, I saw two men standing on the side of the trail. I didn't think much of them until I got closer. It turned out to be my Uncle Bob and my pacer, Dan. They had come down to look for me, since I was so far off my predicted arrival to Michigan Bluff. Both looked relieved to see me, but I could tell from their faces that I must have looked like hell.

Relief came again as I made the hard right into the aid staion at Michigan Bluff. It felt comforting to have my wife, uncles, and friends so nearby. As I came into the aid station, I was led again to the scales. This time I came in at 168 again. I stepped off the scale and proceeded immediately to the med tent. I sat down in the first chair I saw and explained to them my predicament. I still wasn't ready to call it a day, but it's pretty hard to run 100 miles on an empty stomach. As they questioned me, I was reminded that it had been at least three hours since I had peed. The med volunteers, who were all wonderful, determined that I should stay there and rehydrate until I could pee. Well, another hour or so must have passed, but finally I was able to get enough broth and Gatorade in me that my bladder felt full. I got up to pee and was reminded to go into a cup, so they could determine how dehydrated I was. It looked pretty yellow to me, so like an excited child, I rushed over to the med staff with my urine. "That's pretty good, huh?" They weren't quite as convinced as I, but admitted that it didn't look too bad, only slightly concentrated. That was good enough for them to turn me loose again on the trail, however, they cautioned that if this pattern of vomiting continued until Foresthill, I should pull the plug.

I walked out of the tent with a little swagger in my step. I even managed to joke a bit with my crew. Sure I'd lost an hour here and an hour there, but I was still in it, at least to finish. My legs were still feeling really good, my stomach was all that held me back to that point. Unfortunately as soon as I began to hike out of Michigan Bluff, I could feel the cramping starting to build deep in my stomach. It wasn't long before I was again bent over and spewing. Somehow amidst all of the vomiting, I managed to run pretty well on the descent into Volcano Canyon. It was killing me to have some spring in my step, and yet, due to my stomach, not be able to take advantage of it. Eventually I emerged at the base of Bath Road and was greeted by my two pacers, Uncle Bill and Dan. We hiked the whole way up the road. About halfway up I fought to control the dry heaves. Nearly at the top, I lost it, and I mean LOST it. Right there with UB and Dan sympathetically watching, I had the most violent, gut-wrenching puke-fest of my life. Like a wave slowing building, the dry heaving became more and more intense. Finally reaching it's climax my stomach exploded and sent it's contents violently outward like the wave crashing on the sea shore. The convulsions seemed endless this time. Knowing that it was the final straw, time seemed to stand still. Things must have been bad because, as I was bent over I could make out Dan and UB's shadows. When I really started to come undone, I could see my uncle's shadow making a throat-slitting gesture to Dan. When all was said and done, my stomach felt a little better, but mentally I knew this meant the end of my day and another failed attempt at Western States. As I ambled into Foresthill, I could hear a young boy ask his dad why that guy was walking. I thought to myself, "kid, if you only knew the half of it." It did however spur me on to jog into the weigh-in area. Again, I weighed in at 168. I headed straight to the nearest chair and again sat down. This time I was pretty sure I wasn't getting back up, at least not to continue the race. However, I gave it some time and tried to get some calories back on board. I gagged up a bit of the broth. "That's it," I thought. Once that doctor at Michigan Bluff told me to drop at Foresthill if I continued to puke, I wasn't about to ignore his warnings. I know it's courageous to push through adversity and hardship, but after what happened to me in 2006, I'm not about to tempt fate. With a great deal of reluctance on her part, the woman at the runner checkpoint accepted my resignation and clipped my yellow band thus ending my 2009 Western States.

Gordy Ainsleigh, You Old Son of a B... Gun!

2009-07-01T22:54:00.000-07:00

It's all Gordy's fault. Well first off, he is responsible for this crazy circus we call Western States, but that's not even the half of it. In all honesty, I greatly admire the guy for successfully running 100 miles on foot in 1974 and thereby creating the sport of 100 mile trail racing. My beef with Gordy goes back to 2006. Gordy Ainsleigh spoke to a group of us at Scott Jurek's camp Western States camp, and to this day, I'm haunted by his words.

I can't completely recollect what he said word for word, but I've got the gist of it. "Don't let this race beat you," he said. "Because if it does, you'll never forget it." Gee, thanks Gordon. Those words were seared into my brain, and now beaten three times (4 if you count the fires in '08), Gordy's words are playing on a loop through my head AGAIN.

It's easy to say, "Oh well there's always next year. You'll get it. It just wasn't your day." I hear a lot of things along those lines. And yes, maybe that is all true. But for my own sanity, and for that of Andrea, I've got to take a year off from this race. So there will not be a Western States for me in 2010, and as hard as this race has become to get into, I don't know for sure when I'll get to toe the line at Squaw again.

So until then, I get to fall asleep at night to Gordy's words playing on repeat through my thoughts. It's just a race, and yet it's so much more than that. I really can't do it justice with words, but there's something very magical about Western States. As much as I may hate the race, I'm absolutely captivated by it at the same time. Just like I may be haunted by Gordy's words, I see them also as a crisp orange carrot hanging at the end of long, but hopefully not endless, stick, that I may some day satisfyingly chomp into. Thanks, Gordy. I know I'll one day appreciate what you told us. But until then...

Oh Pretty Please

2009-06-23T21:03:00.000-07:00

Brian is down in California, heat training or something. I'm not too convinced about his strategy since part of this "heat" training involved not using air conditioning in the rental car until he started sweating during his non-stop drive from Seattle to Auburn. I'm his wife, and he asked me to guest blog and write about Western from my perspective.

I'll be honest with you - I hate this race. More than anything, (oh pretty please) I just want him to finish it this year and come home with a buckle that we can add to our very unorganized collection of ultra running memorabilia. Then maybe, just maybe, he won't have to go back next year. (I wonder if he's second guessing the free reign he gave me to guest post.) My perspective is that Western States has become, for our little family anyway, way too much of an emotional journey and too big of a hooplah. For Pete's sake, I was telling a friend about it today, and I started crying in the middle of Chipotle (Chipotle?!?!) as I shared the moment when Brian came into the stadium in 2006, and I awaited him with tears of happiness - just to have that rush stomped out in a split-second - as he collapsed for the first time and the realization hit me that something was seriously wrong.

This race though has its positive aspects, and for that I respect it. I love the crews that come out with their A-game on: matching t-shirts, posters, babies in arms, and relatives in tow from around the world. I love the volunteers who are super friendly and put in long hours. I love the runners that travel here from abroad to participate in this wild race. I love how Auburn turns out in mass to cheer these passionate runners on all day long. I love the runners that start in Squaw knowing it will be 28 + hours for them, but they're doing it anyway. I love catching up with the friendly runners and their relatives that I've met over the years. I'm excited to see Nikki, and I really hope that her cousin is there with his conch shell. I look forward to seeing Hal and Carly and hope that Hal looks as cute this year as he did gliding to the 2007 finish. And I hope Don Mukai is there; I haven't seen him in a while and he gives good hugs.

So Western States 2009, please, pretty please, smile down on Brian this year (and on me too for my sanity) and let the guy finish!

(Shhh... don't tell Brian, but I secretly hope that he finishes 11th or higher b/c that means that he doesn't automatically get to go back next year. Is that terrible? I've been trying to convince him to try other long races like HURT 100 in Hawaii or the Tour de Mont-Blanc. A girl can always dream...)

Turning the Corner

2009-06-22T09:13:00.000-07:00

Well thankfully I've made some real headway the past couple of days, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to head down to States and give it what I've got. I really appreciate those of you who have taken the time to offer some encouragement. I'm generally a pretty upbeat person, but it's easy to get overwhelmed with a bunch of negative thoughts, especially surrounding this race. So, I may still not be 100%, but I was able to put a couple hours in on the trail yesterday and feel pretty good. With five days until the race, I think I'll be ready to line up and stare down 100 miles Saturday morning. I'm really curious to see what happens out there following this forced two week taper. My hope is that I'll run a very smart race because of it. I had a similar scenario in 2007 when I raced White River coming off a long battle with a virus. My pace through the first half was quite conservative. In fact, I think that I was 17th or so coming through the halfway point, but as I just started feeling strong in the second half, people in front began to falter. It seemed that every hill I crested and every turn I made, there was another runner to pass. It was one of the most satisfying races of my career, and I ended up finishing 2nd overall. It was a very distant 2nd, but nonetheless it was a tremendous feeling to surge through the second half of the race. Let's hope I can do something similar on Saturday.

Oh Come On!

2009-06-19T10:03:00.000-07:00

You won't believe this. No really, you all are not going to believe what I'm about to reveal. I am sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. Well it's probably not all that shocking to those who know how cursed I seem to be at Western States. It's really almost laughable how bad my luck is this time of year. I'm really trying to stay upbeat about this and hopefully beat this crud. If I do, there's no doubt that I'll be coming in well rested. I literally have not run a step since Tuesday of last week. No surprise to anyone, that's not really the optimal way to lead up to your biggest race of the year.

So how did this happen? Well I came into work the Sunday before last, having just finished the store run and wrapping up my final big week before the race, when I was stopped cold in my tracks by the deep rumbling cough emanating from the back room. One of my co-workers was obviously very sick, and I quickly encouraged him to pack up and go home before spreading anything. It was a mostly selfish move, but obviously customers don't want to receive service from someone who is hacking and sniffling, especially with the fear of swine flu. So on he went, and I wiped everything down and continuously, neurotically, washed my hands throughout the day. In the end, it was all for not. My immune system, heavily compromised from training, caved in to the bug, and I've been sick ever since.

I'm on day 10 now. Slowly I'm improving, but I need to see something change drastically in the next couple of days, or else I'm going to pull the plug on States. That kills me to say, but I got sick in 2007 and tried to run. I knew starting the race that I probably would not finish, and I certainly could not be competitive. That year I ended up dropping at Dusty Corners, and I felt miserable about it. I really don't know if I'd feel any better just not starting, but I promised myself that I would never start a race that way again. So I've tentatively set Sunday or Monday as my drop dead date, meaning that I'm going to make a decision one way or another by Sunday night or Monday morning as to whether or not I go to Western States.

In light of all that, I did have a very exciting moment at work the other day. Exciting enough to have taken at least a little sting out of being sick right now. Mike McCready, yes THE Mike McCready of Pearl Jam, wandered into Seattle Running Company the other day. Thankfully I was working and got to help him out. Rather than beat around the bush, I flat out told him that I was a huge fan. He seemed genuinely pleased to hear it. The guy seems incredibly down to earth and was quite friendly. He asked me a lot of questions about my own running. We even talked about Western States and what it's like to run 100 miles. Without coming across as a freaky fan, I told him that I thought the performance of "Got Some" was great. Again he seemed truly excited to hear it. The new album, he told me, is eleven songs long, and he described it as having a new-wavey feel. He said that it was great to work with producer Brendan O'Brien again. They last worked with him on 1998's Yield. He was in the store for about 20 minutes or so and ended up getting a couple pairs of shoes. Interestingly, he's not so much a runner as he is a cardio boxing participant. He even shared with me little news about a certain Seattle band playing a certain Seattle venue in the fall. It was pretty darn cool.

So unless you're a Western States frontrunner, keep your fingers crossed for my health. And, by all means, if you have any special remedies please share. PLEASE!!!!

PS Hal, I asked Jeff Dean what "coctupe" meant. It was so filthy that I can't even share it here on my blog.

Whew!

2009-06-07T21:01:00.000-07:00

Well I'm thoroughly hammered. This has probably been the most rigorous four weeks of training that I've ever experienced. And although I feel like I've been working my ass off, my body is holding up quite well (knock on wood).

If I'm not ready to compete at States right now, then I never will be. Really, I'm not one to exaggerate, so you'll just have to trust me. For as hard as I trained in 2006, I don't think that I matched the likes of these past four weeks. But don't tell anyone. Right now I'm not being discussed as a contender, and I like it that way. I flew in under the radar in 2006, and I hope to do the same this year.

My mileage has been relatively low (85-95 miles), but I haven't run any "junk" miles. Don't get me wrong. I've certainly run some easy recovery jaunts, but I haven't run a step just to add 2-3 worthless miles to a weekly total. The bulk of my weekly mileage has come between Friday and Sunday.

Each of the past 4 Fridays have been spent running repeats up and down Mt. Si. For three weeks in a row, I ran 2 times up and down (6400 ft. of ascent). Then to cap off this block of training, I punched out three repeats this past Friday. All three ascents were negative splits. Saturdays have been the big, long runs. The first Saturday of this stint was 69.88 miles in 10:37 as part of a twelve hour race. The ascent was minimal, only 4k, but it gave me some real confidence going that distance after a hard day before. Each of the next two Saturdays were spent at Tiger Mountain, running 12 peaks. It's a local run in which you hit all six summits of Tiger out and back, for a total of 12. The run logs over 9000 ft, covers 34 miles, and takes just over 6 hours. This past Saturday I opted for a slightly more runnable course. I hammered out two loops of the Cougar 14 miler. Again, this is a staple local run. I ran the first loop in 2:09 and the second in 2:03. 28 miles. 5300 ft. of ascent. Not too bad after triple Mt. Si's. And each of the last 4 Sundays I've spent leading the Seattle Running Company trail runs. These runs are typically 2-3 hours and cover 14-16 miles on hilly terrain. So in three days I've been knocking out 16-18 grand of climbing.

Hopefully, it's still just my mom and sister reading this, because I really do hope to avoid the pre-race hype. I'm writing this mostly to satisfy myself. I can certainly feel how hard I've been working at this, but it's nice to take a moment and put to paper (computer screen, in this case) the training I've put in. Well it sounds good, so let's see how it all plays out in less than 3 weeks.

Got Some

2009-06-03T06:40:00.000-07:00

I'm giddy watching and listening to Pearl Jam's new song "Got Some". Check it out here and let me know what you think. . Their new album, slated for a fall release, is tentatively titled Backspacer.

Does It Get Any Better?

2009-06-01T23:31:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling pretty damn good right now. Why? Well my training is going great. I logged another big weekend. I was slightly slower on my Mt. Si repeats Friday morning, but I ran 6 minutes faster on 12 peaks Saturday, and I was able to hammer the SRC group run Sunday morning. Now I'm enjoying a day off, at least off from running. Maybe I squeezed in a 30 minute sauna session with some push-ups and core work, but that's it. Otherwise it was a day of recuperation.

That's all well and good, but why am I in such a great mood. Well, for starters I was treated to dinner at the in-laws this evening. Now that may not sound all that great to some of you out there, but if you had Portuguese family you'd definitely understand. Portuguese food is the best, especially when you've been logging your biggest mileage of the season. Oh so good!

And for me the best part of the day hasn't even happened. If you can believe it, I'm still awake and it's nearly midnight. For those of you who know me, you understand how rare that is. There's really only one thing that would keep me up this late, especially in the midst of peak training. Any guesses? Yep, Pearl Jam is playing on the premiere of the Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien. Word is they will be playing songs (yes, plural), so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I can't wait!

Bubble Wrap

2009-05-26T09:39:00.000-07:00

Well it must almost be June, because my ankles and knees are feeling pretty crunchy. Maybe it's also because I'm 30 now, but I know I'm training hard when my joints sound like there filled with bubble wrap. It's mostly my ankles, but lately my knees are feeling pretty hammered too. Don't get me wrong, I'm not injured at all. It would be nice to be immune to all aches and pains, but in some twisted way I enjoy a little bit of wear and tear. It lets me know that I'm doing the work that's going to pay off in just one month.

I don't want to jinx anything, but I have to say that I'm feeling pretty good about my current level of fitness. I've raced a little less this spring, but I've made the most of what I have raced, and my training has been solid. It's quite amazing that a couple big hard weeks back to back can completely change one's mindset. Just a month ago I was feeling like my training was utterly schizophrenic. When I look back at this month as a whole though, I really feel good about it. I've done long runs of 40, 70, and 34 miles. Each of those runs was preceded a day earlier by hilly threshold runs.

On top of feeling great about running, I've still been managing some quality time in the gym. My sauna sessions are getting longer and feeling more comfortable. The problem is that the sauna at the new gym is always more full than it ever was at my old gym. Therefore, I feel a little awkward doing pushups and jumping jacks in front 2 or 3 other guys. I've continued to hit the weights too, with most of the focus now being on core and legs. On a whim today, I decided to measure my body fat with the goofy electronic hand-held device. I put no stock into it's accuracy, but when I last checked three months or so ago, my body fat percentage was 11%. Today it was measured 7%. So regardless of the accuracy, it still shows an increase in fitness. It's always nice to have some measurable numbers to back up the way your feeling.

In a moment, I'll stand up and grab a glass of water. Inevitably my ankles are going to snap and crackle, but I'll be smiling thinking about the runs I did to get to this point. I love this time of year.

At Last

2009-05-19T06:49:00.000-07:00

Kiwi finally has a diagnosis. The results from her endoscopy came back from the lab, and it turns out that she does indeed have IBD. There's good news and still some lingering questions that come with her diagnosis. Evidently the labs revealed that she has MILD irritable bowel disease. That's good as far as treatment goes, but the specialist said that a mild case may not explain everything that Kiwi has been experiencing. That's a little frustrating, but at least we can start treating something. Kiwi will be on prednisone for the next month or so, and supposedly we should see some pretty immediate results from that. According to the vet, once we get the inflammation down, Kiwi should be able to resume a pretty normal life, which includes running.

Speaking of running, I've been doing a little of that. It's amazing how much weight has been lifted off my shoulders with Kiwi's improvement. Last week was my biggest of the year. Friday and Saturday combined for my biggest back-to-back ever. On Friday morning, Adam Lint and I headed out to North Bend for a double ascent of Mt. Si (my first of the season). Both times up were under 50 minutes and felt great. On our way back from Si, Adam and I flagged the five mile course for Saturday's Cougar Mountain race. Then on Saturday I took part in the Watershed Preserve 12 Hour. 12 hours of running a 5.3 mile loop was not my idea of fun, but I felt like it would be a great opportunity to figure out my nutrition plan for Western and get some solid time on my feet. I actually only ended up running 10:37. In that time, I ran 69.88 miles. With 80 minutes or so left to run, I could have pushed well into the mid 70's, but I didn't want to put myself into too great a deficit. I feel great about having run 90 or so miles in two days. My week ended up at 127 miles. I know that's become quite pedestrian these days, but for me that's a HUGE week. With about 4 weeks of hard training left, I'm feeling really good about my current fitness.

And the last little bit of good news comes from the Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien. His debut is June 1st, and his first musical guest will be none other than my favorite band PEARL JAM. They will evidenty be playing new songs from their forthcoming album. That rocks!

Consistently Inconsistent

2009-05-11T09:28:00.000-07:00

Training and blogging have been mediocre at best this past month. I've been as inconsistent as Kiwi's stool, well formed and solid one week, sloppy and unstructured the next. Please pardon the comparison to my dog's waste, but it really speaks to what I've been dealing with now for well over a month. As I've alluded to in previous posts, Kiwi's health has really been set back for the past two months. She's more or less fine, although she can't run with me at the moment. We still don't know what exactly is causing her GI issues and lethargy, but it is suspected that she has Irritable Bowel Disease (IBD). Sounds really pleasant, huh? I've realized a couple things over the last month or so. First off, I must have lived a pretty stress free life up until now, because I never knew how much stress can screw things up. And second, I don't handle stress very well, especially when it is stress related to my dog-child. I've literally worried myself sick over Kiwi. I've definitely made her my top priority for these many weeks, at the expense of my running. That sucks, but it puts things into perspective a bit too. Obviously, Kiwi takes precedent over any race, yes even THE race.

Things aren't all bad though. Last week I hit my biggest mileage of the year, topping out over 100 miles for the first time. I even managed to get out for a hard 40 mile run with Jurek and some others. I realized that he's in better shape than me, but I don't feel like I'm that far off. There's still a handful of weeks to really hit it, so if Kiwi can continue to show small signs of improvement, I feel like I can get back on track to run my best at States.

So where do things stand with Kiwi? Well she underwent an endoscopy last Thursday, and we're awaiting the results from the biopsy. Theoretically they'll diagnose her with IBD and then we can began the proper treatment. IBD is a lifelong condition, but not a life shortening illness. Evidently it can be successfully managed with diet and medication, and she should even be able to start running again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we get a diagnosis and can begin treating something. So far, the vets have only told us what she does NOT have.

The Build-Up

2009-04-16T16:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, let's get back to it. It seems as though I haven't posted anything of much value since the man crush topic. I think that may have been my blog's high point. I mean really, how can you top an ode to Hal Koerner? Well even if that was as good as it gets, I'm still going to keep at this whole blogging thing.

So what's been happening? Well as I briefly mentioned in my last post, I ran the Sun Mountain 50k. I actually won the whole darn thing. That felt pretty good after getting hammered by my "man crush" at Chuckanut. Hal and I were discussing, after Chuckanut, the fact that I had beaten him nearly every time we'd raced. However, the collective margin of victory, of about 5 or 6 races, was probably less than 5 minutes. Well Hal soundly beat me by 10 or 11 minutes at Chuckanut, and made me realize I've got a lot of work ahead of me before we race again at States. Thus, winning the Sun Mountain race felt good and it seems I'm on the right track.

The race at Sun Mountain turned out to be quite exciting. My mindset going into the race was just to go out and have a good solid training run. I had trained through the week and even did a single Squak ascent at threshold pace on Friday. Therefore, my legs weren't anywhere near fresh, at least not at the start. The lead pack went out at a pretty fast clip. Fast enough that halfway through the first of 3 ten mile loops, I realized I wasn't going to hang in there at that pace. I slowed down slightly and watched the four or five guys in front of me pull away. If I was to stand any chance at catching up, they were going to have to slow down a lot, because my legs just weren't up to that clip. Thankfully for me, midway into the second loop, I started to gain some ground. The brisk first loop was already weighing a heavy toll on the front pack. By the middle of the second loop I had passed all but the lone front runner, and he still had a sizeable lead on me.

Strangely my legs started feeling better as I struck out on the third and final loop. I was content with the move I'd made in the second loop and would have been quite pleased maintaining my place to the finish. However, about 1/3 of the way through that final loop, I caught sight of the front runner. He was no longer so far out in front. Suddenly my competitive instincts took over, and I was back in the race to win.

I caught up to Chris Twardczik at the top of the final climb. With less than 2 miles to go I put my head down and hammered the final descent, finally able to pass and even get a little separation from Chris. I didn't really ever look back, but I had a reassuring feeling that I'd be able to hang on. I won in a time of 4:19 and Chris finished second in 4:24.

So, the season is still early, but Western States is quickly approaching. I'm really pleased with my runs at both Chuckanut and Sun Mountain. Next up, I'll be heading down to Olympia for the Capitol Peak 5o miler. My intention was to run Miwok on May 2nd, but due to Kiwi's ever growing vet bills, I've decided to scrap the trip and stay closer to home.

A Quick Recap

2009-04-11T19:42:00.000-07:00

I apologize to all of my loyal readers for my lack of words lately. Kiwi, who is doing slightly better, still isn't 100%, and really the vets haven't pinpointed exactly what's going on. Unfortunately I've had myself worried sick about her, and thus haven't had much desire to write. That being said, I guess if I'm taking a little time right now, things must be a little better. In fact, I just returned from the beautiful Methow Valley where I ran the Rainshadow 50k and hung out with some friends. It was a nice little get away, and returning home tonight, I was enthusiastically greeted by a very happy border collie. she seems pretty wiped out again right now, but she's making very small steps in the right direction. Anyway, the race was great. James Varner put on another great event. Due to some lingering snow, the course was three 10 mile loops, which is not normally my cup of tea. However, it was very fun loop with some unbelievable views.

Some Thoughts on States

2009-04-02T11:16:00.000-07:00

This is from an email that I sent to Craig Thornley in regards to a post he just published on his blog http://ix.cs.uoregon.edu/~thornley/2009/04/02/the-haggin-cup/. I started to ramble on a bit, but I thought some may find it an interesting read.

I'd love to offer some input about my 2006 experience at States. I'll begin by saying, and I know it sounds cheesy, but I truly believe that if you set your mind to something, it really is attainable. It's amazing how strong all of our minds are and how hard we are able to push ourselves. I think that to run any ultra distance you have to be headstrong, but I feel that the mind becomes exponentially more important the longer the race gets. No doubt you have to be in great shape to run 100 miles, but I believe that it's even more important to be tenacious and strong willed. Now going back to my first point, I truly believed that I could win Western States in 2006. Some may say that's brash or cocky or perhaps naive, considering I'd never run there, but I set my mind to it and worked my ass off toward that goal. I definitely was not the fittest or fastest runner out there that day, but I was so determined and solely focused on that goal that I was able to rise above my shortcomings (ie. minimal 100 mile experience, WS rookie, unproven, etc...). So, even though I didn't win, it really made me realize that by setting a goal and really working toward it, you can overcome an awful lot.

The scary thing is that sometimes our drive to succeed , which we have to have to win, pushes our bodies to a dangerous place. I can speak from personal experience on this, because I did push too hard at Western States in 2006, and it put me in the hospital. Thankfully there was no long term damage, and I turned out only to need about 36 hours on IV's. The REALLY scary thing is that they don't even know exactly what caused my collapse. I won't go into it too much, because I'm not a doctor, but it's really crazy how little is known about what happens to the human body when running 100 miles. Some people with a medical background have made me believe that I nearly died, and others have made it seem much tamer than it looked. One specific I will share is that my CPK level was up near 450,000 while in the hospital. The medical staff at Auburn Faith were horrified to see such high numbers. CPK is an indicator of tissue breakdown. The dangerous part of having a high CPK count is that all of that broken down tissue has to be filtered through the kidneys, thus potentially leading to shutdown and failure. The interesting part of this is that when I received my email sometime after the race showing the CPK averages of the 2006 finishers, my CPK at the finish line was slightly below the average of all the runners. I've found out since that the CPK level will reach it's peak 24 hours after the event. My point being that most runners don't end up in the hospital and therefore don't see those high numbers that may actually be much more prevalent than we think. So what brought on my collapse, and did I see it coming? The answer to the first question is that doctors I've talked to seem to have differing opinions on the matter. I was initially led to believe that I was hyponaetremic and therefore collapsed due to overhydration and lack of sodium. Dr. Lisa Bliss has studied my bloodwork pretty thoroughly and is of the opinion that I simply collapsed out of exhaustion. Yes, I was slightly hyponaetremic, but I was also dehydrated, which doesn't quite jive with a collapse due to lack of sodium. Anyway, I believe that I collapsed once inside the stadium, because mentally I felt that I'd done it. Physically I think that I'd been on the brink since the climb up Robie, but mentally I was able to override the physical desire to pass out. However, entering the stadium and seeing the finish line so close, I let my mental guard down. In doing so, my body which was pretty taxed, took over and the result was repeated collapse. The answer to the second question is simply NO. I had started to slow slightly on the crappy descent to No Hands Bridge, but only because I was having a hard time on all the loose rock. Seeing the lights of the stadium in the distance, I had no doubt whatsoever that I'd finish. Whether or not I'd win, I had no idea, but I knew that I could finish. That all changed at No Hands Bridge though. I don't necessarily want to rehash a lot of what if's, but the fact is that a pacer change was made unbeknownst to me. Leaving No Hands Bridge I was running scared, based on some misleading information given to me, with a fresh pacer. I know I left No Hands at a harder effort than I had arrived, and somewhere up the climb to Robie, I was starting to unravel. Honestly, my memory of events is a little fuzzy from the time I reached the houses at the top of the hill until I awoke in the med tent. It's so crazy how quickly things went from uncomfortable and ready to be done to completely out of control and blacked out.

So how about the lasting impressions of such an experience? I don't think that I'll ever be the same runner that I was before that day in June 2006. That's not to say that I can't run well, but literally every run I've set out on since, I've thought at least for a split second about States. Will I ever be able to push myself to that point again? I really don't know. Obviously I don't ever want to repeat those events, but I want to believe that I can still run intelligently and fearlessly. Being that I don't have an official finish at Western States, I really focus, sometimes to the point of obsession, on that event. I was so fired up to run last year and get that monkey off my back that when the race was cancelled, it's no exaggeration to say that I became very depressed. Somehow I need to find a healthy balance of peaking for Western and giving it my all, but not allowing it to take over my life if it doesn't unfold how I'd like it to.

Although I'm terribly disappointed not to have won Western States in 2006, I'm still very proud of my run. And again, it really made me believe that if you want something badly enough and you work your tail off, you might just accomplish it, even if it's as far fetched as winning Western States. For me that experience forced a great deal of character building, and I believe I'm a stronger person for it. I'm hopeful that as the saying goes, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. For as hard as we push ourselves and abuse our bodies, thehuman body is an incredibly resilient thing.

A Brief Recap

2009-03-26T09:28:00.001-07:00

I had hoped to write a more in depth report from Chuckanut, but I've been really distracted this week with a an unhappy puppy. Kiwi is feeling under the weather, and I've been completely distracted by her illness. I'm taking her into the vet again today. She's been prescribed an antibiotic to clear up her bloody stool and diarrhea, and now she's become incredibly lethargic. Needless to say, I've been incredibly worried about her, and it is consuming my every moment. The vets don't seem to be too concerned, but it's so hard to see her under the weather.

So, as far as Chuckanut went, I was very happy with the time that I ran (4:13:06). It was about a minute faster than last year, but I was 3 places further down. That's alright though. I knew it was going to be a very competetive year. My hope going in was to run between 4:10-4:15, so I ran exactly what I thought I should run. As an early season fitness indicator, it made me feel like I'm on the right track for peak summer fitness.

Next up, I'm making my way over to the Methow Valley for the Rainshadow 50k.

Chuckanut

2009-03-16T10:03:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe it's that time already, but Chuckanut is nearly here. It can't come soon enough, as far as I'm concerned. Training has been going really well. Now I just need to get some races under my belt. For me, I can't think of a better race to get on track with. Chuckanut was my first ultra, and over the years, I've run consistently well there. This year I'm going to have to run well just to crack the top ten by the looks of it. This year's race is absolutely stacked with plenty of well known names, and there's always someone who surprises as well. Last year that someone was Peter Ellis, running to a second place finish in his first ever ultra. He's back again along with last year's winner Bryan Dayton. I'm only going to mention those two, because if I try to run down the whole list I'll accidentally leave someone off and then they'll have an axe to grind with me on race day. Lord knows I don't need to give anyone a little extra motivation to run me down late in the race.

Yesterday capped off my biggest week of the year (87 miles), and I got a lot of trail mileage in there too. Friday marked my transition from Green Lake to Squak Mountain for my threshold workouts. That first one is always a bit of a shock to the system as I go from 7-8 miles flat at 5:50'ish pace to two 2000 foot ascents up Squak Mountain in just under 40 minutes each. On Saturday I was happy just to survive my 3 hour run on the Chuckanut course. The weather was hellacious and I finished soaked and frozen to the core. Sunday was another 2.5 hours in similar conditions, and again I was happy just to survive. With three days in the gym too, I felt like it was a pretty stellar week of training. I can't wait to get out and test my fitness next weekend.

The Man Crush

2009-03-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

C'mon, let's admit it guys. We all have a "man crush", right? I really can't speak for the ladies, but I'm sure they have a similar phenomenon. You know what I'm talking about. It's not a crush in a romantic kind of way as much as it is a great admiration for someone.

I was reminded of my man crush the other day while out on a group run. One of the runners mentioned to me that her fake boyfriend was going to be at Chuckanut. Not knowing who this fake boyfriend was, I inquired. Not surprisingly, her fake boyfriend was none other than the man, the myth, the legend, Hal Koerner. She doesn't actually even know Hal, but she thinks he's super dreamy. Well honestly I must concur. Hal is super dreamy. We spent 5 minutes or so talking about him, and I shared with her my infatuation with Hal.

So this is really my ode to Hal Koerner post. I mean let's face it, Hal's definitely got a lot going for him. First off, is there a nicer guy in the sport than Hal? Okay, maybe Phil Kochik, but Phil's like the nicest guy ever, so he hardly counts. Then there's Hal the athlete. The guy has won Angeles Crest twice and is the defending WS champ, not to mention the gazillions of other races he's won. Plus, he's not built like a waify little runner. Hal looks like an athletic person that could handle himself in just about any sports setting. Then there's the Hal style. Sorry Karno, I know you've tried hard, but nobody looks better than Hal Koerner. Did you see him when he broke the ribbon at States? I could swear he showered and coiffed his hair before entering the stadium. I don't think there could have been a more stark contrast to my ghastly finish in 2006 than Hal's hollywood-esque traipse through the tape in 2007. The guy oozes style, well mostly. There does seem to be some debate on that soul patch, but you've gotta' take a chance on something every now and then, right?

Well, all I know is that Hal's a great dude and a helluva' good lookin' guy. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I've got a man crush on Hal Koerner. How about you?

The Gym

2009-03-04T06:11:00.000-08:00

How does one know if they're becoming a gym rat? I mean what's the criteria? I ask only because I'm so enamored with my new gym that I'm worried I may turn into one of those creepy gym dudes. I'm definitely not there yet. Sure, I've started to shave my whole body, and I'm drinking creatine shakes on a daily basis. Oh, and I have put on 15 lbs of lean muscle while lowering my body fat %, but I'm definitely not becoming a gym rat, right? If I start looking unnaturally tan, please feel free to let me know that I look like a douche-y gym dweller.

In all seriousness, it has been great to have a brand new gym much closer to home. However, I have a love-hate relationship with the gym environment. First off, the gym is ridiculously crowded nearly all the time. Maybe it's just because it's brand new. Hopefully the excitement will wane a bit as the newness wears off. And the worst aspect of all, in my opinion, is the posturing that goes on around there. When I go work out, I have a set amount of time and a plan. I put my headphones on and get in and out as quickly and efficiently as I possibly can. But there are those folks, and lots of them, that are clearly there just to strut around checking themselves out and displaying their unnaturally tan bods. Ah, I thought I was done with my rant, but I have one final complaint about the gym. I can only speak for men, but can't we have just a little bit of humility in the locker room? I get the fact that people are changing in there and nudity is inevitable. That's fine. What gets me are the tactless acts of the nude. Can't they PLEASE put a towel down on the wooden bench before dumping a couple of fat cheeks and a wrinkly bean bag over it? These are probably the same people that have no problem sitting bare bunned on a public toilet. It's just gross.

As much as I may complain about some aspects of it, I feel like the pros out measure the cons of having a gym membership. Some may argue that time spent in the gym could be better spent just running more. Personally I feel like I benefit from a couple days of strength training per week. I've been more or less injury free since I began running and I think that's in part due to the 2-3 days I cross train in the gym. The other benefit I've found from having a gym membership is the access to a sauna. Since I first ran States in 2006, I've spent time leading up to the race heat training in the sauna. So, as much as I make fun of the gym atmosphere, I really do love it. You just have to know how to tune out the obnoxious aspects that come with that culture.

Sometimes I Could Really Use a Coach

2009-02-24T15:49:00.000-08:00

Couldn't we all, right? For the most part, I'm pretty good at coaching myself, or at least I think I am. In all fairness, I have to give a great deal of credit to Scott Jurek. Scott has never been my coach, but I've learned a lot from him about how to train. I used to just go out and run. That's fine to a degree, but at some point, if you want to go to the next level, you need not only run, you must TRAIN. So train I do and sometimes foolishly. In the case of this past week (recovery week), I got sucked into a 4 hour run on Saturday. On top of that, my new gym just opened, and it's such a nice facility I've been sucked into some extra workouts there. Needless to say, my so called "recovery" week ended up being the second biggest week of this past block. DUMB. DUMB. DUMB. I know better, but it's just so fun to get after it. Well it's early in the year, and even my big weeks are pretty tame compared to what lies down the road. So a little extra in the early going probably isn't going to hinder too much. At least with a coach, I'd have someone to answer to every now and then.

Off Topic

2009-02-19T16:00:00.000-08:00

Well, this is mostly a blog about running, but I have to say that I'm inexplicably excited about the return of one of Seattle's most prolific athletes, if not THE most prolific. That's right. Ken Griffey Jr. is coming back to the Mariners. I'm not even a big baseball fan, but as a kid playing Little League I was a huge fan of Griffey, and his return, 20 years after he first came up with the organization, has rekindled some of those youthful memories from my past. Sure he's old and way past his prime, but it's neat to see a great player come back and finish their career with the organization they began with. I think it's great for Seattle sports, because outside of some phenomenal running performances, there hasn't been much to get excited about.

Back in the Swing

2009-02-17T10:12:00.000-08:00

This past week capped off my second solid 3 week block of training for the year. I hit a little speed bump the second week of this block with a DNF at Orcas, but I turned things around this third and final week of the block. Everything felt great this week. I had a solid threshold run Friday morning at Green Lake, and then followed that up with a 25 mile run on Chuckanut Saturday. I hit 84 miles for the week and even managed to get three days in the gym. Mentally and physically I'm all systems go. Right now, I just need to squeeze a little more time in on the trails. Run commuting to and from work is great, but I need to build that strength that can only come from time on the trails. One promising tidbit to note was that my chronically achey achilles tendon wasn't even slightly worse for the wear after a long, hilly run Saturday.

Check me out

2009-02-13T15:59:00.000-08:00

Bet you didn't think it would happen, did ya? Well look at this I'm actually posting two days in a row. I'm dead serious when I say that it's now officially running season, and thus blogging season as well. I've been hitting it hard this week after having a wake up call at Orcas last weekend. Today I had a great threshold run at Green Lake. It was a crisp clear morning and there was very little wind. I managed just over 7 miles between 5:50-6 minute pace and felt really good. Tomorrow I'm headed up to Bellingham to get a little time on the Chuckanut course. Ah, I do love the Bellingham trails. A long run followed up with a potato burrito, what could be better?

Called out

2009-02-12T14:58:00.000-08:00

Well, it's officially running season again, so hopefully I'll have a bit more to write about now. But first I want to apologize to anyone who feels the same way a recent anonymous poster does about my last few blog entries. Evidently I've been complaining a bit too much and don't seem to appreciate how good I have it. This anonymous individual left such a comment on my most recent rambling about having lost my hammer. It's funny to me (not so much ha ha funny) how people can so differently interpret things. IT WAS A JOKE. It was a lame attempt at humor, but I know at least a few people got a chuckle out of it. And, last time I checked, this is my blog and I can write whatever I damn well feel like. No one's forcing you to read it. WHEW! I got that off my chest. Now where was I? Oh yes, race season is just around the corner and I can't wait. Chuckanut will be my next race, followed shortly thereafter by the brand spankin' new Rainshadow 50k, in the beautiful Methow Valley. I'd like to squeeze something else into April and then run Miwok and States. I'm not yet thinking much beyond that, but there are definitely some intriguing new races out there.

Have you seen my hammer?

2009-01-02T06:40:00.000-08:00

I seem to have misplaced my hammer. I'm not exactly sure when I lost my hammer, some time during the summer, I think. Things just haven't been the same since. It's been difficult to build without my hammer. It's hard to imagine going to work on the Big project at the end of June without my hammer, and it's been so long that I fear I may never get to work with my hammer again. Have you seen my hammer?

My hammer is a special hammer, an Alabama Hammer.

Is it really December already?

2008-12-16T16:46:00.000-08:00

Boy, I have become downright pathetic when it comes to updating my blog. My life really is fairly exciting, even though you'd never know it by checking out my blog. So what's new? Well I'll start with a bit of running news. After laying low most of the summer and fall, I decided on a whim to run the Seattle Marathon. Yikes! I was reminded why I focus my energy toward the trails. Granted, I was pretty happy with my time (2:49.53), but it felt so hard and painful. The crazy thing was that I was laboring up hills that would be nothing more than speed bumps in an ultra. Running moderately fast is really tough. So, for now, I'm going to stick to being a big slow trail runner. I'm getting excited about the 2009 season. I haven't fully commited to much more than going back to Western States, but there will be plenty of fun races between now and then. Let's see...what else? Oh, I've taken up fly fishing. Between that and trying to learn Portuguese I feel pretty worthless. Thank goodness I always have running to make me feel somewhat competent.