Snowman Says

Lookout Mountain 50 Mile - Race Report

2011-12-22T07:47:00.002-05:00

"Intoxicated by the madness

I'm in love with my sadness."

- Smashing Pumpkins, Zero

Summing up 50 miles is hard to do, but that song that popped into my head around 30 miles certainly feels appropriate. A lot happens in the course of more than 9 hours of running, but at the same time nothing happens at all. An entire day of running feels like it takes all day but in many ways it goes by in the blink of an eye. After preparing for the Lookout Mountain 50 Mile, which covers trails in both Tennessee and Georgia, for a couple months, it felt a bit surreal to actually be running it. I didn't really know what to expect in my first 50-mile race, and I'm still not certain what I've taken away. I do know this: it was an experience unlike anything I've ever had. I expected some grand epiphany, but really, it was just a day in the woods. A great day. A horrible day. It was something I'll never forget...for so many reasons.

The event really started on Wednesday afternoon with a trip to my parents' affording us easy access to the airport for our early morning flights on Thursday. D and Sam headed off at 7:00 to D's parents' house for an extended break, while I headed for Charlotte at 8:30. An uneventful flight and long drive across North Carolina and into Tennessee later, I arrived at the Extended Stay Chattanooga, which would be the moderately acceptable accommodations for the duration. On Friday, I did a dry run to the start/finish location of the race at Covenant College atop Lookout Mountain along with some course recon exploring the trails on either side of the 34/38 mile aid station. Unfortunately, it was raining heavily during my short jog, but it was good to get the travel out of my legs in preparation for Saturday's effort. And, I was comforted in the fact that the rains would end for race day—that doesn't mean things would be dry. It was also good to get all my getting lost around Chattanooga out of the way, which was a constant for most of my car-based excursions around the city. Finally, I met fellow Trail Monster, Nathan, at packet pickup, and we headed back to the hotel to make some dinner and get our drop bags and race supplies in order. Nathan was also running his first 50-mile race, and we exchanged our thoughts as we prepared to dive into the great unknown.

With it still dark on Saturday morning, we made our way to the race site while temperatures remained in the high 30's. In fact, it stayed dark until just before the start, when the sun seemed to rise so quickly that it felt as if someone had flipped a giant light switch. Complete with multiple pop-up tents, a long row of porta-potties, a fire pit and an inflatable start/finish arch, it was clear that this was a serious operation, and I was confident that this meant the course would be well-marked and the aid stations well-stocked. Even expecting no-more than 2 hours between aid stations, I went with my two-bottle Nathan waist pack, primarily because it allowed me to carry the variety of gels, Clif Shot Bloks and Honey Stinger Waffles that I thought I need/want along the way. I fully planned to utilize the aid stations later in the race for some solid food needs and Mountain Dew or Coke if need be. Additionally, tucked away in my bag of tricks was a random connection that allowed me to trade emails with last year's race winner, Troy Shellhamer, to get some intel on the course itself. Troy assured me that while there were plenty of hills, the course was overall fairly moderate. Armed with this knowledge, I was expecting a tough, but not overly difficult or ridiculously hard course. The lesson here: the fast people lie.

Despite being fairly nervous on Friday, I was very calm on race day and was ready to go at the start. Knowing from the course profile that the first ten miles were essentially downhill, my goal was to keep things in check but also take what the terrain gave me. My rough goal for the race was between 8 and 9 hours, so 10:00 per mile was what I was shooting for overall, knowing that the first 10 would no doubt be faster than that. I wished Nathan good luck, moved a bit closer to the starting line and headed off down the road with 264 other hopefuls. I watched the front runners pull away quickly and let others around me pull away as well. The first mile was primarily pavement, and my only goal was to not race anyone as it seemed others were intent on jockeying for position. I let couple people duck around me as we entered the singletrack ensuring that I didn't have anyone breathing down my neck on the first bit of technical trail. Soon, however, as we swtichbacked downward, I was leading a train that dwindled each time I heard "On your right," or "On your left." I was intent on not pushing too hard, so I was happy to let others go around, confident that I'd see them later on.

As the trail continued to descend beneath a number of rock outcroppings, I was struck by two things. First, the beauty of the views and the trails themselves. Being on the northern side of Lookout Mountain, we were in the shadows as the sun rose, but the river valley below was well lit. Secondly, the technical nature of the trails. Despite what I was lead to believe, the trails were very rocky and wet. It was the wetness that was the predominant feature as my feet were wet almost immediately due to multiple stream crossings in the opening miles. Whether it was the mental shift I was attempting to make due to the technical trails or the fact that I was trying very hard to not race during this race, I was feeling pretty off for the first couple miles. I couldn't find my rhythm at all. Then, while ducking under an overhanging rock, I twisted my left ankle. It was bad enough that I had to stop and walk for a minute or two. My Garmin told me that I was only 3.5 miles into the race, and I was very worried that I'd come all this way only to drop at the first aid station. Luckily, it did seem to loosen up a bit, but I was very cautious for the next few miles not wanting to reinjure it. And, thankfully, I never rolled it badly again the rest of the day.

The trail brought us along the edge of Lookout Mountain, around its northernmost tip and directly into the sun. It was nice to get a bit of a comfort here as even with my gloves and long sleeve shirt under my Trail Monster singlet, I was a bit chilly at times. The trail remained technical and muddy as we wove our way under the Incline Railway twice and switchbacked further down into the valley. After turning my ankle, I reconnected with the group I was running with, which numbered about ten, and together we reached a gravel bike path that led us gradually downhill to the first aid station. Obviously, we were all happy to be able to open up our strides and run freely as we fanned out across the road and the pace quickened dramatically. It was here that I ran my fastest mile of the race: 7:58. I didn't stop at the aid station since I still had plenty of Nuun in each bottle and had already downed an Espresso Gu and a Honey Stinger Waffle for "breakfast." My Garmin clocked the aid station at 7.75 miles, which was a bit shy of the 8 miles advertised, so I knew my pace was a bit quicker than it was reading, as I came through here in 1:14:34.

Enjoying the sun just past the 8-mile aid station

The next bit of trail was among the most runnable of the whole course with a mix of smooth singletrack and gravel roads. I was hopeful that the really technical sections were behind us. I was very mistaken. It was in this section that I chatted quite a bit with fellow-New Englander and eventual woman's winner Debbie Livingston of Connecticut, and soon we came upon two volunteers who warned us that there was a river ahead. They weren't kidding. Friday's rains combined with a rainy previous week has caused the river to overflow its banks. Apparently, when the race director marked the course on Thursday, the river was still down, but by race time I found myself wading through water that was mid-thigh in places. We should have been following the river for 200 yards, but, instead, we were right in it. It really wasn't a huge deal, and I was feeling good enough at this point that I found it pretty humorous. However, there was a gravel road a few feet up the bank that we would have all been just as happy to run on. Granted, my feet were already pretty wet, but I didn't need my shorts to be as well. This difficulty for difficulty's sake was definitely on display in couple sections of this race, and it's really one of my two complaints about this race. Everything was well-organized and well-run, but we didn't really need to go through the river, and there were other sections of "fake" trail, clearly used only for this race that we were routed onto when other gravel roads would have been just as easy to use and actually made a bit more sense. That being said, wading through the river does make for a better story, and I was still squishing from shoes when I reached the mile 15 aid station.

Not me, but a good look at the river—the shallower part anyway.

My Garmin was even shorter at this stop, closer to 13.5, so I estimated my average pace to be right around 9:30 per mile or so thus far. Again, on mostly downhill terrain. I also moved right through this aid station, getting ahead of Debbie, but catching up with her husband, Scott, on the next climb. We ran together for a couple miles as we negotiated a small climb and descent before the major pull back up to the start/finish area. As I made my way around one blowdown on the climb, one of 5 or 6 we'd already negotiated, I also took note that the trail was becoming more technical again, and it stayed that way for the next 5 miles up to Covenant College. Although I run on very technical trails at Bradbury Mountain State Park, I'm comfortable saying that the real technical bits aren't my forte. I was silently hoping that the second half of the course would be smoother.

The trail on the climb back up to the start/finish reminded me greatly of the southern portion of the Appalachian Trail. In fact, if you had beamed me onto this trail and asked me to hike them for a bit, I would have guessed that I was in Georgia. Speaking of hiking, we hadn't hit much real climbing to this point, and, in some ways, that first short climb, which was about a mile, was a good wake up call. And, a good reason to walk. Following a fairly gradual descent, the real climb began. It was about 3 miles back up Lookout Mountain, and a bit intimidating when I looked at it on the elevation profile before the race. I felt that this climb would be a good barometer as to how I could expect the rest of the race to play out. As it turned out, it didn't at all, but rather gave me what was either a good mental boost or a false sense of hope. I felt very comfortable on the climb. I mixed running and walking liberally and was never out of breath or felt I was working hard at all. Walking felt good. Running felt good. I was feeling very positive about my "first half" of the race. The only negative was whacking my left knee badly on an adjacent tree stump as I climbed over yet another blowdown.

I reached the paved road at the college catching up to another runner who promptly announced that he was dropping. "What? Why?" "I won't be able to make it the whole way," he said as he peeled off to his car parked a few yards away. With the race's major climb behind me and the sun shining brightly, my spirits were running high, and I couldn't fathom stopping now. I shrugged my shoulders and said to myself, "Well, you won't make it the whole way with that attitude," and smiled broadly feeling good about my race as I hit the aid station at the start/finish area in about 3:30. I had my one and only drop bag at this point and took just a minute or two to refill a bottle with Nuun, pick up an entirely new bottle, dispose of some trash and refill my pouches will gels. I was very conscientious to take a gel or shot bloks every 30 minutes during the race, and my stomach held up pretty well with this schedule the whole day, give or take.

While the first portion of the course is one large loop, the second part consists of a 12-mile out, a 4.5 mile loop, then those same 12 miles back to the finish. I noted my Garmin read 20.5 miles as I left the start/finish area, meaning that was reading about 2 miles short. More importantly, this meant that I could expect the next aid station, which was 5.5 miles from the start/finish, to appear at around 26 miles on my Garmin. And, even though the trails had been trickier and much wetter than I had hoped for, I was still confident that I could get under 9 hours; 28 miles in 5:30 seemed reasonable.

The trail leaving the start/finish was a smooth gravel road, but quickly morphed into singletrack along a stream, and it was the twistiest, muddiest, most slippery singletrack of the whole race to this point. "Hmmm…this is not good," I thought, as I was hoping for smoother running. Luckily after about a mile and half, as noted on my Garmin with a "Thank God I'm out of that" watch check, I reached a stretch of powerlines. I also figured that I'd be excited to know that I only had a mile and a half left when I was headed for the finish. I passed a couple people on the powerlines and soon got into a train with three other guys, shortly after turning back into the woods. The trail was twisty, but very runnable and slightly downhill, and the four of us were moving along at a pretty good clip. We crossed a stream that was about mid-calf deep. A spot the race director noted, "You'll probably get your feet wet." The four of us joked about this as our feet had been wet all day. I was happy to run with this group for a few miles as it was the most consistent company I'd had in quite a while. Despite a few other wet spots and slippery rocks, the trail remained fairly runnable until we crossed a paved road.

Shortly after crossing this road, one of the group said, "Wasn't the aid station supposed to be here." His name was Brian from Knoxville (?), and he had run the race last year. Another of the guys concurred as we crossed a slippery wooden bridge. We shrugged it off as we entered a rhododendron thicket. This was the first of a handful of such thickets and in each of them the trail became extremely twisty winding its was around the tangled trunks and branches. In short, I hated the rhododendrons. I could no longer find my rhythm and was struggling to maintain my pace. At some point in the thicket, my Garmin clicked passed 26 miles, and I began to wonder if the aid station existed at all. We did eventually emerge from the thicket, but the trail remained singletrack and was also climbing. And, suddenly, I wasn't having fun anymore. With each step, the aid station failed to appear, and with each step, I was get crankier and crankier. Even the runnable singletrack wasn't feeling runnable, and anything truly technical was a chore. This section kept alternating between the two, and cranky was morphing into anger. "Where is the !$(*^%!$(* aid station?!?!?!" 26.5 miles, no aid station. 26.75 miles, no aid station. 27 miles, no aid station. 27.25 miles, no aid station. Looking at my Garmin every minute or so certainly wasn't helping. Additionally, my average pace was creeping up with every step. I was feeling pretty awful and seriously questioning how much longer I could keep going. I was still running just behind Brian, who was probably feeling about the same way I was, when we reached a rocky section of trail that was very slippery due to the water running over it. We had to climb down the rocks. "Are you $%*()#%^ kidding me?!?!?!" Even though I was prepared to fall and break myself on the rocks, leading to a lawsuit against the race director, damn the waiver, I stayed upright. And, turning a corner at 27.5 miles, the aid station appeared. Seven miles is very different from 5.5, and this is my only other complaint with the race direction. The aid stations really need to be marked appropriately. Looking at the course map from last year, it simply looks like they changed the location without changing the map. Being mentally prepared for 7 miles would have made a huge difference.

When I arrived at the aid station, I asked for some EPO and an ATV, but my requests were denied by the volunteers. They did offer me everything else they had, which was an extensive selection, but none of the solid food options were appealing. I may have audibly grumbled my disinterest but downed my first cup of Mountain Dew of the day. I begrudgingly trudged out of the aid station at around 4:45 on the watch. A few seconds later, I was treated to an amazing view of Lula Falls and had to laugh as I thought about one of our mantras from the AT, "Yeah, yeah, beautiful…tra la la…whatever..." My attempts to turn my mood around was short lived, thanks to a ridiculously steep climb—not just steep for running, but steep for anything. In fact, at the top, three separate sections of rope had been fixed in order to pull yourself up. "WTF?!?!?!" It's a good thing the race director wasn't at the top.

Passing Lula Falls...tra la la...

At the top of the ridge, which offered a nice view "yeah, yeah, whatever…" and very runnable, grassy old roads, I caught up to Brian. Neither of us were particularly rosy. The road alternated between flat and slightly uphill, and on each uphill section, we walked. We chatted a bit, but mostly trudged along in silence both sensing the other's disinterest but need for a friend right now. During another bout of walking, Brian said "I'm gonna run. I'm getting too comfortable in my sadness." Off he went. I walked for a few more strides but figured that it couldn't hurt to run myself. Soon after, the trail turned off the ridge and started downhill. The surface remained the same, which was great, but, as I'd found, in true Lookout Mountain fashion, nothing would be so simple, and the trail was blocked by one of those can't-go-over, can't-go-under blowdowns. Whose idea was this again?

Turning off the old woods road onto some singletrack, all I could think was "Oh great, now what?" Thanks to a tornado, I wasn't disappointed. The original trail along a river had been obliterated by a tornado, but an unthinkable amount of chainsaw and trail work had created a new path through the forest. It wasn't particularly runnable or fun, but it was the best they could do under the circumstances. Granted, this rational and complimentary description comes thanks to being removed from experiencing it. At the time, I wouldn't have had such nice things to say. I was not enjoying my run in the South and was seriously thinking about calling it a day. The trail was far too twisty and lumpy to get anything close to a running rhythm going, and I didn't want to go another step. On top of that, I had to come back through here…if I wanted to finish. At this point, I didn't care. Finishing seemed unlikely.

Then, in an instant, it all turned around. I reached a gravel road, and said, "Hey, I know this road!" After leaving the last aid station at 27.5 miles, I figured that I would reached the 34-mile aid station in about 33.5 miles, guessing that my Garmin was still a little short. However, I had turned around at this gravel road during my recon run on Friday, and it took my about 10 minutes to run that stretch to the aid station. This stretch was only about 4.5 miles, and I was about a mile from the aid station. I instantly picked up the pace, and I knew that I was going to finish the race. Of course, I was still walking the singletrack that I had run the day before, but I thought it wise on this uphill stretch to the road. Shortly before that road, the leader and eventual race winner went past me. He was flying and looked a lot better than I felt. Hate that guy. Once on the quarter-mile stretch of road, I saw Troy in second place and the third place runner close behind. Interestingly, those were the only three runners I saw, and I was feeling pretty good about my place in the field. With the 4.5-mile loop ahead of me to get back to this point, I guessed I was hovering around the top 25.

My attitude had completely turned around even as I walked up the gravel road into the parking lot with the aid station just beyond. I joked with some spectators as I walked, "This isn't a very triumphant way to come into an aid station!" My watch was reading 5:45, which meant 2:10 for the out portion of the out and back. Reaching the aid station bounty, I chowed down on potatoes with salt and a cup of Mountain Dew. The volunteers asked me how I was doing, and I said, "Man, you guys aren't kidding around! This course is serious." They got a laugh, and as I took off to run the 4.5-mile loop, I jokingly yelled "See you in 28 minutes!" This got an even bigger laugh…if only I knew why…

At the aid station, I had caught up to Brain, whom I thought was long gone, and we left together. "Ready to trudge along?" I asked, but I got a bit ahead of him as he walked up the hill behind the aid station while I ran. I had run the last half mile of this loop on Friday, so I was looking forward to that final stretch. It took me forever to get there. This entire loop was either twisty, uneven singletrack or improvised trail. I couldn't get any mojo going the entire loop, and even when I thought I was running well, the Garmin would tell me otherwise with mile splits all in the 12's, 13's and 14's. It was in this loop that I realized I would be out for at least 9 hours. I'd completely turned the corner, however, knowing that I would finish, but I knew it was going to take me a while. Slowly over the next few miles, I became more and more comfortable with that fact. What was less comfortable was my stomach. As I was "running" through yet another rhododendron thicket that seemed to dominate the second half of this loop, my stomach became incredibly queasy. It came on quite suddenly, but, luckily, thanks to a ginger chew, it dissipated just as quickly. Very odd. Knowing the "half mile to go" point of the loop, I was a bit frustrated when I realized that I'd been running the loop for over 4 miles without reaching that spot. That spot was actually marked by a stream crossing, and each time I came to a new stream, which was fairly often near the end of the loop, I'd be disappointed to find it was in fact not the stream I was seeking. It did finally appear, and doing the math, my Garmin would measure the loop to be about 4.75. It was so twisty, however, (think Island Trail at The Brad...for almost 5 miles...), it had to be longer than that. My guess is over 5 miles. I reached the aid station at 6:45. My "28-minute" loop had taken me a hour.

One thing I'll never forget about this race is the look on the volunteer's face at the aid station. As soon as I arrived, he asked me, "Can I get you anything? Water? HEED?" I handed him my opened bottle and said, "Mountain Dew!" I downed a number of potatoes with salt as he filled my bottle with rocket fuel and headed off. I'd been passed by a couple guys during the loop, but my spirits were still high as I left the aid station. It seemed unlikely, but I had 2:15 to break 9 hours. I was feeling mentally good, and hoped that I could get a second-wind physically that would really push me to the finish. Interestingly, I was now well beyond my furthest run to date, but I never really thought about it. Leaving the aid station was the 38-mile mark. I wasn't focused on the total mileage just the fact that I had 12 miles to run.

I got another boost shortly after I left the road, as I came across Nathan just before "my" gravel road. He was doing well and feeling much like I was—this course was much harder than we had thought. We chatted for a few seconds before we split to do our work.

This time through the tornado section, I was in much better spirits. I was still moving slowly, but at least I wasn't angry. It was also sort of fun to come across all the other runners on their way out. Everyone was very encouraging, and I tried to be the same. Admittedly, I knew that all of them would be out for a lot longer than I would, and I really fed off their positive attitudes at facing that task. It was also in this section that a very interesting phenomenon started happening. I'd be moving along at what I perceived to be a decent pace, when I'd suddenly hear someone coming up behind me. I got caught and passed a few times and marveled at how fast each of these guys was moving. Maybe I was moving slowly… In fact, I was. So, this is what 50 miles feels like.

Finishing up the tornado section, I arrived back at the old woods road that climbed to the ridge. I had gone about 40 miles at this point and decided that if I was going to have any chance at 9:00 I was going to have to start running. I figured that this move would either bury me or jump start for a strong finish. At this point, I stopped saying much if anything to those still headed out and just put my head down and ran. It was the first time in the entire race that I worked to a point of breathing heavy and being unable to speak. I pushed that pace as long as I could, but even once I gained the ridge and started the gradual downhill, I could tell I wasn't moving all that fast. By the time I reached the top of the ropes for the downclimb, I was cooked. It was with very wobbly legs that I negotiated that descent and trudged into the final aid station.

I knew 9 hours was out the window, but I was in much better spirits this time through. Unfortunately, they were out of potatoes, but the Pringles hit the spot along with more Mountain Dew. From mile 34 on, aside from the potatoes, Pringles and Nuun, everything else that went into my mouth was required to have caffeine in it. Caffeinated gels and shot bloks were key. The wet rocks were easier to negotiate while climbing, but the following uphill was a bit of a grumpy walk. I was still mixing running with walking, but my running wasn't very fast. My legs just weren't responding, specifically my quads. It was a feeling I was very unfamiliar with. In my most recent marathon and 50k, my legs were tired, along with my lungs. At Lookout Mountain, I wasn't breathing heavy, but I was done. Even when I was done at MDI, I was still moving at a good clip. Fifty miles is an utterly different feeling.

Shortly after leaving the aid station, another runner passed me offering a ton of encouragement. "Run with me. We can still break nine hours!" Seven miles to go in 1:05. I told him I appreciated his enthusiasm, but it wasn't going to happen for me. I hung with him as long as I could, but I hit the rhododendron thicket and slowed to a crawl. Running on smooth singletrack was difficult, but anything technical was an utter disaster. It was all I could do to stay upright. I still ran when I could for the rest of the way in, but it was really about just getting to the finish.

The last five miles were actually comical. I was only caught by four or five more people, and I did my best to stay with them each time but I was barely moving. I was dead, but I wasn't down. I was actually in a terrific mood. It was extremely odd. Knowing that I was still completely functional, I tried to run all the flats and push it when I was passed, but again, my legs just wouldn't work. The stream crossing 4 miles out from the finish was a bit dicey as my wobbly legs weren't thrilled with the rushing water and slippery rocks. And, it was just on the other side of this stream that Debbie reeled me back in and sped steadily away. Needless to say, it was obvious how much downhill there was on the way out. While walking the lengthy hill back to the powerlines, my stomach started growling. I ate another Honey Stinger Waffle, laughed about eating something with only two miles to go and watched a handful of people run away from me. But, it wasn't like I was running, so I might as well walk and eat. Again, normally, when I'm shot, I'm completely shot, but this was not the case. It was as if I was carrying a huge weight and just couldn't move forward.

The final bit of comedy came with less than a mile to go, when Brian caught me. I hadn't seen him since mile 34, and he slowed when he got to me. I laughed and told him not to hang out with me, since I was barely moving. Seconds later, I was tiptoeing down a short hill watching Brian pull away. It was fitting.

As I came up to the finish, it was with mixed emotions. I was thrilled to have completed my first 50 mile race but disappointed that I couldn't finish stronger. I'd lost a lot of time in the last 10 miles of the race, and I'm not really sure why. Lack of training? Wrong type of training? Lack of fuel? Lack of experience? Did I go out too fast? Did I run too hard in the middle? Could I have pushed more in the middle? These are the questions that went through my head as I came up to the finish, but really, I was just happy. They announced my name as I approached the line: "Ryan Triffitt from Topsham…[long pause]" "Yup, it's Maine!" I yelled. "From Topsham, MAINE! We've never had anyone from Maine here." I pumped my fist over my head a few times and crossed the line. Final time: 9:23:19 in 27th place. As it would turn out, only 155 runners finished the race for a close to 40% drop out rate. Yup, it was a tough day out there.

RESULTS

Garmin data

Mark McNight Photos
Jeff Bartlett Photos

I grabbed a bag of Fritos and my finishers pint glass. I was also told to grab a prize from the schwag table, which ended up being a North Face Junction hydration pack. It was a bit breezy as the sun was starting to go down, so I hobbled to the car as fast as I could. I called D telling her the good news and got a "Good job, Daddo!" from Sam. Amazingly, I had no blisters or chaffing to complain about. I changed into dry clothes, went back to the finish area and ate a cheeseburger by the fire. I spoke to Troy, who had finished second and was waiting for some friends to finish, and I chided him about his description of the course. He said he was also surprised by the difficulty and that they made a few changes this year, each increasing the length and difficulty. He also said that all the water and mud were the biggest surprise making it feel like a completely different, much harder course this year. I did take some solace in knowing that the course really was a difficult 50-mile course, as this was also the consensus of all the other experienced runners I spoke with. In short, the course was beautiful, I hated it. And, as always, it was great to share war stories with the other runners post-race, many of whom I'd seen along the way, but as soon as the sun went down it got very cold. I had planned to wait for Nathan to finish, but since I was shivering uncontrollably, I decided to get warm in the car, grab a pizza and head back to the hotel. Nathan did show up eventually, finishing in 11:47, stoked with his first 50-mile finish as well.

So, the obvious question remains…well, actually there's two. First, why do I pick such hard races?!?!? The only marathon I've run is MDI, and the only 50 mile I've run is considered a "doozy." But, the real question is: Will I do another 50 mile? The answer is yes. I've been hobbling quite a bit since then and my ankles were quite swollen, but I would definitely like to try this distance again. I've made huge strides in both fitness and knowledge since my first 50k, and I'd like to think I could do the same at this distance. That being said, I'm definitely going to choose a less hilly, less technical course. One thing is clear: I'm just not as strong on highly technical terrain. It's not that I don't enjoy running it, it's just that it doesn't necessarily suit my strengths. I'm best at getting into a rhythm and hammering. No chance of doing that at Lookout Mountain. Ultimately, though, I don't think the longer stuff is for me. I really like the marathon and 50k. I'm not really sure why. Those two just seem like the "right" amount of time. Maybe I'd like a 50 mile if I could run more. I really don't like hiking. But, it's tough to say until I've had more experience. All that being said, the Lookout Mountain 50 Mile was a great experience and one I'm thankful to have had. If the schedule permitted, I'd definitely run this race again, which is says a lot about the beauty, the organization and the people, since it was so damn hard and unfun at the time. I'm not certain when my next big race will be. Right now, the plan is to relax and recover. Some day soon, I might even go for a run.

Training 11/20 - 12/3

2011-12-04T20:06:00.001-05:00

Double dippin'...
The busyness of life delayed my training post last week, so this is a two-fer. And, it somehow seems fitting since I really don't think of my training in weekly blocks. I really think of it in large cycles broken into 3 and 4 day chunks. A week is too arbitrary. Plus, I'm the only person in the world (aside from D) who counts the week Sunday - Saturday. I use an old school calendar planner, and the first day of each week is Sunday. Hence, Sunday is the first day of my training week. Again, arbitrary. Most of all, I think these two weeks will illustrate my point that weekly mileage is arbitrary and, really, nothing more than a number to impress or exaggerate your buddies. The week is a very rough guideline for me, as I'm more focused on making sure in my 3 and 4 days blocks I maintain a good mix of strength, speed and rest. The right combination of those ingredients balanced our over time pointing toward the larger goal. Then again, maybe this paragraph was me trying to convince myself that I don't just wing it...

Onto the numbers...

11/20, Sunday: 22 - 4:00:20, Bradbury Snowshoe Bad Ass + Bradbury Mountain Breaker. I met Jeff, NJ Dave, Jim and Zak at The Brad at 8:00...well, they were ready to go at 8:00, and I was admittedly unsure how this run was going to go based on my cold. I was pretty certain it was close to dead, but I wasn't certain how far I would get. Obviously, this worried me as I considered this a very important run with Lookout Mountain on the horizon. It was great to have company, and the pace was comfortable as I led the group on the courses that...well, are a touch hilly. Zak, still crippled by plague, peeled off after a couple miles, and Jim stuck around for a few more. Jeff and Dave ran with me for the entire Snowshoe Bad Ass, and I even got a boost from a visit from D and Sam out on the trails. Weather was unseasonably warm, so I was down to just a t-shirt by the end. Luckily, I'd brought plenty of fluids. The Snowshoe Bad Ass took a bit longer than I had hoped (about 2:20), and I knew that it would be a stretch to get under 4 hours. Once I lost Jeff and Dave, I definitely felt the effects of running solo, and my pace slowed a touch. However, I stayed fairly strong and only walked a few short stretches of the Summit Trail. I forgot/didn't grab an extra gel my last trip through the parking lot aid station, and I could have used it. I was definitely bonking by the end, but it was good to work through that in a training run. Happy with the effort, I didn't try to sprint the finish just get under the 4-hour mark, but I was happy to sit and devour potato chips as soon as I finished. Very solid run, and good confidence boost.

11/21, Monday: 11 - 1:17:41, River Road + Meadow Cross. In the mindset of ultra training, I wanted to follow up Sunday's run with a medium length run. And, I decided to up the ante by tackling it at marathon pace. Despite some heavy legs in the first two miles, this run couldn't have gone any better. The 7:03/mile average felt very comfortable on this relatively hilly route. Just great back-to-back efforts.

11/22, Tuesday: 5.75 - 52:58, TMR TNR @ Twin Brook. Trespassed (to our surprise) with a decent-sized TMR group for a run by headlamp, but ended up breaking off and running easy with Jeff. Legs felt great, and an easy run filled with plans for future training and over-analysis of current training (as he and I are wont to do) was just what I needed.

11/23, Wednesday: Off - planned, with drive south for Thanksgiving. I also pronounced my cold officially kicked.

11/24, Thursday: 5 - 39:04, Weldon Farm Road w/ D. I had mulled over running 4 or 5 different races on Thanksgiving morning, but I chose discretion not wanting to overtire myself or tweak anything so close to Lookout Mountain. So, instead, I decided to go for an easy 5 with D pre-turkey. Well, at some point, D turned my morning into a progression run and dropped the hammer on me. I did manage to out sprint her in the final meters for a small victory. It's not that the pace was outrageous. I just wasn't mentally prepared for anything more than a shuffle. Amazing what the mind can do...

11/25, Friday: 5 - 41:03, Weldon Farm Road w/ D. Same loop from my parents' house again this morning, but much different disposition. This time around, D wasn't feeling so frisky, but I was nice enough to keep things mellow. Nice loop around the neighborhood.

11/26, Saturday: 26.2 - 4:04:01, Bradley Palmer State Park. Nothing good to say about this run aside from the result. I basically felt terrible the entire way. I felt especially horrible miles 7 through 12, when my groin and psoas were so tight, my stride was basically a shuffle. I decided to run the GAC Fat Ass course, since I know it well and gave me the option of using the car as an aid station. D offered to come along for the first 12 miles, but, unfortunately, I wasn't very good company. Once she dropped off, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and just got it done. The final 14 miles were almost a minute faster per mile than the first 12, but I didn't necessary feel any better—I just stopped caring about how I felt. Getting through this run feeling so horrible was actually a huge confidence boost. If I can pull this off feeling like that, I'm excited to see what I can do when I'm rested. Possible cause for feeling terrible: Fundido.

Totals: 75
Trail: 54
Road: 21

Easily my biggest week of the year, but again, that's arbitrary. Forty-eight of those seventy-five miles came in two runs. Rarely do I get two long runs in within a 7-day stretch, but that's just how the schedule worked out. Having my parents to babysit was certainly helpful. Of course, now I can say I've done a 75-mile week.

Week two of this post is the start of my taper. I agree with Jamie that a three-week quasi taper is good for the body and spirit. Yes, your mileage is cut back a little bit, but no so far that you start freaking out about it too soon before the goal. So with arbitrary weekly mileage and the quasi-taper in mind...

Onto the numbers...

11/27, Sunday: 10.75 - 1:46:29, Willowdale State Forest w/ D. Once again taking the opportunity to have my parents watch the kiddo, D and I headed out to run something resembling a lap of the Stone Cat course. I was very curious how I was going to feel after Saturday's effort. And, honestly, I felt pretty good. It took me a bit to warm up, but after a creaky start, the miles just rolled along. Some of the course markings were still posted, but many were not. Plus, I'd only been to Willowdale once before and D (despite having run the marathon) is, admittedly, directionally challenged. Needless to say, we got off track but did manage to get back on course and to the car despite grumbling at each other a bit. I bonked big time at around 1:30, but thanks to an extra gel from D, I managed to hang on until the finish. Admittedly, I'd hoped to get the full Stone Cat course and about two hours, but this was good enough. Another solid back-to-back.

11/28, Monday: Off, planned, traveling home.

11/29, Tuesday: 5 - 41:52, Highland Green. Back home for an easy spin around the neighborhood. Felt a bit tight, so I took it very easy.

11/30, Wendesday: 5.25 - 48:34, Mt. Ararat. Since it's just a quasi-taper, I thought I get in a shortish hill session on Mt. A. The overall pace was slow, but that was mainly due to my caution on the downhills. With rain the previous day and overnight, the trails were very slippery. Aside from some tight calves, happy to report that the body felt good. Saw a fox on three separate occasions.

12/1, Thursday: 8 - 56:03, Meadow Cross. Again, going on the quasi-taper theory, the plan was for 8 at marathon pace. Mission accomplished despite having a lot of trouble getting out the door. I just wasn't feeling it, which I'm attributing to a couple late work nights. However, after the first half mile or so, I got in a good groove, and this run actually felt pretty easy. I'd noticed that in my past marathon pace runs on this loop, I would lag a bit in mile 6, so I made a conscious decision to push it a bit in this mile. The result was a 6:56, which set me up nicely for a 6:47 and 6:44 on the way in. I did feel a bit tight, but nothing major. Good run.

12/2, Friday: 5.75 - 51:18, River N Back. Easy run down to the Cathance on a really nice day. Kept the pace easy, and despite another late night, felt really good. Let the real taper begin.

12/3, Saturday: Off, planned. Needed to save my energy with our six-year-old niece spending the night. Um...I mean...tapering...

Totals: 34.75
Trail: 21.75
Road: 13

Seems like a really short week, but here's that word again: arbitrary. With no long run with that seven day block, it drops that number. The more important number is 50. I've averaged 50 miles per week for the last 4 weeks, following a full recovery from the MDI Marathon. Admittedly, that recovery took longer than I had hoped, but I'm glad I didn't push it. Solid training in the month of November, and I'm feeling as ready as I can be. I would have liked to have gotten one more solid back-to-back weekend in, but I've decided to err on the side of rest rather than risk overdoing it going into the 50. The mental edge from knowing I'm rested will be more valuable.

One thing I haven't mentioned in this post is my right knee. (You didn't think I'd get through this without my "injury of the week," did you?) The good news is that it's feeling a lot better. The bad news is that it's not feeling 100%. It really comes and goes. One run I won't notice it at all. The next it will be a bit wonky. Some runs will start fine, but it flares up then subsides. It's very random. I've still been foam rolling, stretching and icing, and while I'm certain I'll feel it during Lookout Mountain, I doubt it's going to be an issue.

So, I'm officially tapering. Focus right now is rest, stretching and hydration. All the remaining runs will be short and easy, and I'm going to try not to go crazy. (Does looking at the Chattanooga forecast a couple times a day count as crazy?) I'm starting to formulate a race strategy, but it's tough not really knowing the terrain. I think I'm going to have to formulate a plan and figure out what that means pace-wise on race day. I have an elevation profile, so I know what to expect for hills. But, I don't know exactly how technical it is. Reports vary. My assumption is smack in between Pineland and The Brad...which leaves a lot of possibilities. I'm just going to have to be smart on race day. Uh oh...

Training 11/13 - 11/19

2011-11-21T21:01:00.001-05:00

Main goal for the week was to get some reasonable mileage in and test out the knee. Luckily, as I mentioned last week, running actually seems to help it by keeping things loose...along with the requisite foam rolling, icing and stretching. It's still not 100%, but it's very manageable and trending in the right direction. Fingers crossed.

Onto the numbers...

11/13, Sunday: 14.5 - 2:19:58, Cathance & Pancakes. Hosted a Trail Monster get together at our place and dragged some brave souls on a loop I'm calling "Awesome Topsham." It's a great mix of singletrack, ATV trails, dirt roads, industrial artifacts, a waterfall, fields, a stream crossing and a couple trips up Mt. Ararat. So, ya it's awesome. Great crew with plenty of chatter and a nice easy pace. Top it all off with pancakes, bacon, some "French" sausage, coffee and beer, and you have a terrific Sunday morning. It was my longest run since MDI, and legs felt sturdy and springy throughout.

11/14, Monday: 8 - 59:19, Meadow Cross. Same route and plan as last Monday, i.e. kinda snappy. I was able to comfortably run about 40 seconds faster. Of note, I've done both these routes in my Brooks Racer ST's, aka my road racing flats, and I'm really liking that decision. I really, really like the feel of these shoes, and I don't think it's possible to run slower than an 8:00 mile in them. Good back to back runs.

11/15, Tuesday: 5.5 - 48:24, TMR TNR at Twin Brook. My maiden voyage to the Greely Road side for the TNR. In other words, it was also the first time I've gone in the dark. I'm not entirely certain, but I think this was also my first ever trail run in the dark. Admittedly, I'm not sure I like running at night. Even with headlamps (one on my head and one around my waist), it's dark. Maybe I just need more practice. It was also the muddiest I'd seen (or not seen) Twin Brook, so that threw me off a bit as well. My knee was barking a touch, and overall, I felt a bit uncomfortable. At least the actual running part was easy.

11/16, Wednesday: 5 - 38:24, Highland Green. Easy spin around the neighborhood. I was thinking a lot about Lookout Mountain, which accounted for the quickened pace. What can I say? I'm excited. Knee felt 100% fine.

11/17, Thursday: 8.25 - 1:14:11, Mt. Ararat x17. Broke out a new pair of Cascadias for this run, since I want to get some miles on them before Lookout Mountain. (I'm currently nursing one pair along, and a second has close to 500 miles on them. 700 miles seems to be the limit, so I was glad to have another option in the closet. And, technically, they're old, since they're the Cascadia 5s, an older version.) I have to admit that even though this run is fairly boring, I love it. There's always a point around 1.5-2 miles at which I think, "How many more times do I have to do this?" But, soon, I'm at 6 or 7 miles and feeling good. Plus, I know I'm seeing results from these runs and plan to hit it once a week.

11/18, Friday: Off - I'd originally planned some type of speed work for the day, but I'd contracted one of the kiddo's many diseases and was feeling too snotty and achy to go outside. Definitely erring on the side of caution with Lookout Mountain a month out.

11/19, Saturday: 5 - 41:08, Highland Green. I was on Daddo-duty for the day and had originally planned to get out for 5 before D headed to work. I wasn't feeling well enough to do so first thing in the morning. Thankfully, I felt better as the day progressed and headed out in the dark when she got home. Instead of sticking to the well-lit, quiet roads around the high school, I stuck with the usual Highland Green Loop, which includes about a half mile of trail and a mile of dirt road. In other words, it was dark. I felt a little uncomfortable on the long dirt road section and could feel it in my neck and shoulders when I hit the well-lit Highland Green road. Aside from that, run was fine. Good to get the blood (and with the cold, the snot) flowing.

Totals: 46.25
Trail: 28.25
Road: 18

Decent week, but a little short of what I wanted. Again, erring on the side of caution, so not a huge issue. The cold is lingering, but I'm hoping it will be done in a couple more days. Thoughts on all my runs are completely consumed by Lookout Mountain, and I keep coming to the same conclusion: I have no idea what I'm getting into. It's a new location, new trails, a new distance and a new time to be running. A lot of uncharted waters for me. I was able to connect with last year's winner through a "it's a small world"/Appalachian Trail connection, and he was very forthcoming with race course info, race details and training suggestions. It was definitely helpful, but it's not the same as being there myself. Then again, that's part of the reason I'm so excited. I don't really know what I'm getting into, and that's somewhat appealing. Should be fun. Big training week coming up, and then all of a sudden it'll be taper time again.

Recovery & Training 11/6 - 11/12

2011-11-12T14:30:00.001-05:00

It's been a long time, but, frankly, it has taken me a long time to recover from MDI—both physically and mentally. It wasn't until this week that I was psychologically ready to run. I just wasn't feeling it. Something flipped this week, and I needed to get out there. Not so fast, my friend...

Originally, I had given myself a maximum of three weeks post-MDI to start training in earnest, but 5 days post-race, I became really worried. I walked around Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park a fair amount the day after the race and put in a 3-mile shuffle on Tuesday. My legs were tired, tight and sore, but I felt much better for it. A day off followed by a really, easy 5-mile trail run on Thursday on which I was no longer sore, but definitely leg weary. No surprises, thus far. However, when I woke on Friday morning my right knee was killing me. Specifically, just below my knee on the inside of my leg—the top of my tibia. I immediately thought the worst, and after no improvement on two subsequent runs, I went to see Julia for a massage and some piece of mind. She assured me that it was just tightness, and I would indeed survive. With a little more of my own research and tons of input from friends on Facebook, I knew I was looking at possibly pes anserine bursitis at worst or the beginnings of it at best. Knowing that my hamstrings are generally tight and started bugging me only 10 miles into the marathon combined with Julia's moderate shock at their tightness, I knew they were to blame. So, with a combination of focused stretching, icing and ibuprofen, things are looking up. And, honestly, another thing that's helped: running. I think getting some blood flowing through everything has really helped, and as long as I don't stress out my hamstrings, it shouldn't get any worse.

In the three weeks following MDI, I only managed a total of 45 miles, but it was probably enough. It did take me the full three weeks to get back on track, and I'm not out of the woods yet. I did get a solid week this week, and my thoughts have squarely turned to the Lookout Mountain 50, just 5 weeks away...

Onto the numbers...

11/6, Sunday: 5.5 - 45:12, River N Back. D has done this loop a bunch, and she suggested I give it a try. I liked it as it has a good mix of singletrack and wide trails. Just another terrific option from our doorstep. Run felt good, and I could tell I had flipped the switch into "training mode."

11/7, Monday: 8 - 59:58, Meadow Cross. I wanted to do something slightly snappy, and this loop was perfect. The 7:30/mile average felt very comfortable the entire way, and even had to reel it in on a few occasions. It was a good sign that my legs were completely recovered. I started feeling my knee only two miles into the run, but it never got any worse and would even dissipate periodically. Good sign. With a quarter mile to go, I admittedly picked it up to be certain I'd sneak under the hour mark. Really pleased with this run.

11/8, Tuesday: 6.5 - 58:08, Mt. Ararat x13. Looking to get back into real training, I opted for a return to Mt. Ararat hill "repeats." They're not true repeats since I don't run them hard, but I don't back off either. I managed to keep each lap of the mountain to under 4:00, which is a good benchmark. (I have three different laps I run in succession with distances varying from .35 to .45.) It was great to get back to climbing, and my knee wasn't an issue. Two confidence boosting runs back-to-back.

11/9, Wednesday: 5.5 - 47:26, River N Back w/ D. We took advantage of rare coinciding schedules to get out for a run together. Great easy run and my knee felt fine. Not a bad way to spend the morning.

11/10, Thursday: Off - planned

11/11, Friday: 11.11 - 1:39:24, Pineland with Jamie. Jamie concocted the idea to run 11.11 miles on 11/11/11 starting at 11:11:11am. And, that's just what we did. Real easy tour of Pineland on a dreary day. We spent the entire run talking about past races and future race plans. Many of the world's problems were solved. Barely noticed my kneed at all. Great run.

11/12, Saturday: 5 - 39:16, Highland Green. Easy tour of the neighborhood. Legs were a bit tired following my longest run post-marathon, but nothing to complain about. Knee was fine. All systems go.

Totals: 41.5
Trails: 28.5
Roads: 14

With Lookout Mountain looming, the focus will be getting my long runs in over the coming weeks. I know I won't be as prepared as I could be, but my confidence is building. I'm not the slightest bit worried about the time or distance, but I'd prefer not to travel to Tennessee and come away disappointed. I have a lot of things in my favor and am looking forward to my 50-mile debut.

Mount Desert Island Marathon - Race Report

2011-10-19T12:48:00.001-04:00

There's something special about the weekend of the Mount Desert Island Marathon, and that something is what induced me to register the day after the 2010 race. After running the race with D in 2008 as my first marathon and watching Jamie get his first Boston Marathon qualifying time last year, I knew I wanted to be a part of this race again. However, I never could have predicted the outcome of Sunday's race after either of those two events.

Race weekend started with a fairly pleasant drive, including a stop for lunch, on Saturday. While the kiddo slept quietly in the backseat, I sent D off on a run on Acadia's carriage roads and headed for the marathon expo. I have to admit, I was a bit jealous that she was getting to enjoy a no pressure jaunt in arguably my favorite running destination. Sam eventually woke from her nap, and I hung out with Jamie for a short bit at the expo also chatting with Mindy, Pete and Tim and Bob Dion while Sam dragged my red bag schwag bag around...literally. Sam and I headed off to check into our hotel and do a diaper change, then back to pick up D and then back to the hotel to meet my parents, who were part of my amazing support crew. I snuck off for a drive of the course...to refresh my memory/confirm my fears, and then we all headed out dinner. It wasn't the most relaxing pre-race afternoon and evening, especially after Sam threw pizza all over me at the restaurant—"Sowwy, Daddo," but I did manage to get to bed around 9:30.

We stayed at the Bar Harbor Inn—only a two minute jog from the starting line—which worked out perfectly because as I went out to warm up it started raining. Since I was chock full of pre-race jitters, I needed to pee again, so I took it as a sign to shoot back to the room. This turned out to be a shrewd move as I was able to drop my warm up clothes, which were also my finish line clothes, since I wouldn't see D or my parents again before the start. I was cold and lamenting the rain as I went to the start line, but saying good mornings and good lucks to a number of folks, including Blaine, Jim, Tom Trytek and Peter Keeney to name a few, kept my mind off the conditions.

Trail Monsters ready for the roads.

Before I knew it, Thunderstruck was playing, and we were off.

The start. Look at my shoes!

Jamie and I lined up in the second row, and I have to admit that adrenaline got the best of me as we ran a comfortable 6:00 pace for the first quarter of a mile. Jamie wisely mentioned that we should tone it down, and we passed the first mile in 7:07, which was right what we wanted, as droves of runners went passed us. Jamie and I had chatted a bunch during the week about race plans, and he convinced me that we should run together for as long as possible. His plan was to try to hit 7:10's for the first 20 miles. Knowing that he'd slow down towards the end, he felt this gave him a great shot at his reach goal of sub-3:10 and set him up really well for his main goals of re-qualifying for Boston and setting a new PR under 3:12:30. Since I hadn't been able to put in the marathon-specific training I'd hoped for, I really had no idea what was realistic for me. A lot marathoners can say, "I'm in 3:02 shape," for example. All I knew was, I'm in "I know I can finish this thing faster than the last time" shape, so I decided to run with Jamie for as long as it felt comfortable. I honestly didn't know if that was going to be one mile or twenty-six. I just hoped we'd both have good days.

Early in the second mile Jamie commented, "See most of those guys in front of us? We'll see them again later." Outwardly, I agreed with him, but I really doubted my ability to run this pace for the entire race. I even dropped back a bit a couple times, and each time, Jamie would motion for me to jump back on board. "Yes, sir!" In the early miles, we started chatting with two other runners, Ty and Anita, and we soon became a pack of four. The conversation was free flowing and often off color, but it was just what we all needed on this day. Well, I know I did anyway. It really was a fantastic vibe, and it totally took the pressure off. Even if the pace was too fast, I wasn't overly concerned because we were having so much fun.

I have no idea when it stopped raining, but it wasn't the prominent weather feature du jour. That honor went to the wind, and it was really blowing as we passed the Tarn just after the two-mile mark. The wind would continue to remind us of its presence from time to time in the early miles. No one wanted to really talk about it aside from a few groans here and there, but we all knew that it would be in our faces in the final miles.

Mile 5

Just past mile 6, I took my first gel, and, predictably, I had a bit of a bad patch. I guess I can't eat and run at the same time. It was short lived, however, as I didn't want to lose my crew, especially at the start of the climb on Cooksey Drive. From 2008, I remembered that I didn't really enjoy this climb, but this year it passed quickly thanks to more great chatter. Mentally, this was a big boost for me to not only get through a bad patch so quickly, but to also not feel a hill I remembered distinctly from three years ago. Of course, the mental ups and downs are unavoidable, and I would battle them for the next few miles. After crossing the not-bridge at the construction site at Seal Harbor at 8.5 miles, I had my first real "uh-oh" moment of the race. We started climbing the hill, and I felt terrible. I obviously hadn't been running the tangents because my Garmin was starting to hit the mile markers before they appeared, but I knew we were still right in the 7:10 range. (I stuck with the Auto Lap function because I didn't want to have to worry about hitting the lap button at each mile mark. Lazy? Perhaps. But, I really had enough on my mind.) I just put my head down on the uphills and tried to stay with my crew.

The "Uh-Oh" Moment at Seal Harbor

This would be the theme through the roller coaster hills through mile 10. It was also in this stretch that I really started to notice how much the downhills were taking out of me. My hamstrings were starting to tighten, and all I could think about was my lack of speed training and my hammies blowing up in the final miles. I would have moments of feeling OK, but mostly I just tried to keep our group a pack of four. And, amazingly, I did.

Much like mile 7, I remembered feeling really bad during mile 11 in '08. I mentioned this out loud, and Jamie and Ty both agreed that they disliked this mile. I took comfort in the fact that no one else was feeling particularly frisky, and it bolstered my spirits a bit to the point that I felt pretty good again. Also, I was really looking forward to seeing my crew at around 11.25 for both the mental boost and a new bottle of Nuun, since I drained my first 10oz bottle by mile 9. I wasn't disappointed on either front as D executed a flawless hand-off and the crowd was pretty loud at this corner. I felt great coming through here and was excited to soon be at the halfway point.

Team No Filter

One of my takeaways from my course drive on Saturday was that miles 12 through 15 were the flattest of the race. (Not flat, mind you. This is MDI, after all.) And, I wanted to make certain that I was feeling good and moving well through here. Unfortunately, our pace slowed to a 7:23 for mile 12, which was a shock. Jamie realized it, too, and said, "Unacceptable," and we ticked off a 7:11 for mile 13. I knew we were a bit shy of the 7:10's Jamie had wanted, but I was happy about how we were running. As we approached the half marathon mark I said, "Raise your hand if you're about to PR in the half!" Only my hand went up as the four of us hit the marker in 1:34:57. Jamie grumbled about being slower than last year, and I know just what he was thinking. "This is not a negative split course." And, shortly after he said, "Well, I guess I'm not breaking 3:10 today." I told him that it was still a possibility since he was clearly running very well and relaxed.

Through the half marathon

The half split really lit a fire under Jamie, and he pressed the issue a bit. I told him, "This is pretty much what I have right now." In other words, "It isn't likely I'll be hanging with you through 20." He got a bit ahead of me, and I was really starting to feel uncomfortable. Not bad, but it was no longer a pleasant run on the island. The marathon had turned to work, and I was having a really hard time making the mental shift.

At some point around mile 14, which was a lackluster 7:17, two guys, Red & Gray Shirt Duo, motored by me. Jamie was a few seconds ahead, so I made a fateful decision to latch onto these guys and try to catch back up to him. This turned out to be a brilliant move. Within about a minute or so, I was back with Jamie, and Red & Gray Shirt Duo were just ahead. They had pulled me to a more respectable 7:05 for mile 15. I was stoked to be back in the picture, but I told Jamie, "I'm having a really hard time making the shift from running comfortably to working. This is starting to hurt." He replied, "It's all in your head." Those words were a giant turning point in my race. He flipped some kind of switch in me, and I was totally locked in.

R&G were a bit ahead of us now as we ran along Sargeant Drive, and I motioned to Jamie and pointed to them. In other words, "Let's stay with these guys." I tucked right in behind them, and they pulled me to a 6:45 mile 16. It certainly didn't feel like a 6:45. In fact, it felt easy. I thought, "Well, if I'm feeling this bad, but easily clicked off a 6:45...well...maybe...let's do this." I also hoped that Jamie would hop on board knowing that I wasn't feeling great, but he stayed a bit back. I just focused on R&G and stayed relaxed.

I made my next critical decision at around mile 17. I'd been downing the Nuun at a faster rate than I had anticipated and I only had a few sips left. I had planned to drop the handheld with D at mile 21, but I decided to take a gel right at 2:00, instead of 2:15 on my every 45 minutes schedule and drop the bottle with her at 17.5. I figured if things went bad and I needed another gel, which I was still carrying, I could grab water from an aid station. This was another great decision, as it felt great to run unencumbered for the final 9 miles. In fact, I didn't need another gel and bypassed all the water stops.

Turning off Sargeant Dr. at 17.5. Looking bad, feeling good.

After nearly decapitating D with the fling of my water bottle, I was feeling really strong and focused through the turn off Sargeant Drive at 17.5. I actually moved around R&G just as we turned onto Route 198. I don't remember looking at any of my splits from miles 17 through 20. I was really in the zone. Mindy and Pete were yelling for me at around 18.5, and I didn't even realize it was them until I had gone by. I had been dreading the hill at mile 19—it's nasty—but it didn't really phase me. I knew it was nasty while I was running it, but I sort of didn't care. R&G were still right behind me, and they eventually passed me for good just before the left hand turn onto Route 102 in Somesville. As it turns out, I averaged 6:57 for miles 15 through 20. Perhaps not the shrewdest marathon strategy, but I didn't even really realize it. It just sort of happened. But, in hindsight, it was really the crux of the race as I banked time for the final stretch without blowing myself up. And, again, I'd gone into this stretch feeling terrible, so by the time I came to at the 20-mile mark, I'd passed I have no idea how many people and set myself up for a decent time...assuming I could hang on for 10k.

Mile 21 is sneaky hard, and I slowed to 7:22. As I was rounding the corner to go through mile 20, a spectator yelled, "Up the hill and head for home!" Well, that's bullshit. You're not running home. You're running the hardest miles of the marathon, and at MDI, those miles happen to be some of the hardest of the entire race. (I would argue 3, 4 and 5 are harder than the final miles, but they're early, so no one is hurting there.) I distinctly remember passing one runner here, and I knew he was in for a rough final 5 miles. "Don't be that guy," I thought. I got another boost at the mile-21 mark, as D and my parents were there yelling. Of course, D's voice quivered she attempted to spur me on, "Go, honey!" I yelled back, "You don't sound very confident!" But, really, she confirmed what I already knew. I was hurting, I looked terrible, and I had some big hills ahead of me.

Mile 22. Looking bad, feeling bad.

The good part about this stretch of road is that there are long, straight sections on which you can see the field in front of you. At around mile 17, I had picked up a view of what I thought were the lead women. (As it turns out, the first-place woman was well ahead, flirting with 3 hours.) I had seen them sporadically throughout the next couple miles, but once on Route 102, I could see that they were a little closer and running with a decent pack of 4 or 5 men. This group proved to be a good motivator, and I hoped I could close in and pick off any stragglers. Deep down, I never thought I'd catch a group 2 minutes or so ahead, but mind games are part of...well...the game. R&G were still there, too, but after passing me, they dropped the hammer and just crushed it.

I did managed to pass a couple guys before the "Top of the Hill" Restaurant just before the mile-25 mark, but I can't really recall the order of the events from these final miles. I do know that the wind was blowing in our faces, and I actually flipped it off with both hands at one point. After I did this, I felt instantly better, and I also thought, "If you can do that, there must be a little more there." It actually made me run faster. Contrary to popular thought, there are a couple short downhills in the "all uphill" section from mile 21 to 25, and these do nothing but destroy your quads that much more for the remaining climbs. Trust me, MDI is a fantastic race, but the final miles are just brutal. Among those, mile 24 is the worst. This mile was easily my slowest mile of the race: 7:56. I couldn't believe it when I saw that split. I felt like I had been pushing so hard and gotten so little in return. It was also at this point that my thoughts of a Boston Marathon qualifying time went out the window. I didn't arrive at the starting line with a goal of qualifying for Boston—even though the entire marathon world is obsessed with the concept—but my split at 20 miles, just under 2:24, gave me a glimmer of hope that I could get 3:10:00 or better. However, it was also at this split that I got the biggest boost of the entire race. Mindy and Pete jumped out of their car at this point to give me one final push homeward. Like I said, things are pretty hazy, but I remember Mindy running across the road and asking me some type of question to which I replied through my thousand-yard stare, "This hurts." She jumped behind me and yelled "GO!" for what seemed like 50 times. I was so confused—"Why is she yelling so much?"—I could do nothing but follow her orders. I was really somewhere else, but I started running faster. Only 2.2 miles to go...

I did remember one key landmark from Saturday's course drive, which was the backwards sign that signals the start of the final climb to the "Top of the Hill" Restaurant. I'd told myself on Saturday that this point marked the "put the hammer down" spot. I did the best I could and passed through 25 miles a few seconds after 3 hours. "Hmmm...maybe Boston is in play." From 2008, I knew that the downhill that starts just before mile 25 would be excruciatingly painful, and it didn't disappoint. I passed another runner here, even though I was really just trying to keep it together. Then, the final slight uphill and then "little bump" at mile 26...well, yeah...they're horrible. You'd barely notice these features on a easy training run, but they're indescribable at the end of this race. Cresting that little bump, though, you do get a slight downhill to the finish. It was here that I spotted the clock, 3:09:56...57...58... It was at this point that I passed D who was screaming wildly. I pointed at the clock, and said, "There goes Boston!" But, really, I didn't care. I pumped my fists and crossed the line in 3:10:11, 21st place.

RESULTS

Finishing it up.

3:10:11

Going into the race, if you had told me those figures, I would have rolled my eyes. I'm still having a little trouble believing it. I did put together some goals before the race, and I figured that I could break 3:20. That was about what I ran the marathon in during the Gator Trail 50k in March, and with the pavement pounding and crazy hills, I figured this was realistic. However, I would have been happy with anything under 3:30. I thought if I had an exceptional day, I could run about 3:12. So, obviously, I'm ecstatic with my time. But, here's the thing: I don't feel like I had an exceptional day. I didn't feel great for the whole race. I really struggled on the downhills and flats. I slowed a ton in the final 10k to about a 7:30 average and was sort of a mess. (I almost crashed into one of the firefighters directing traffic in Southwest Harbor.) It was a good day, but it wasn't exceptional. And, that's a really good thing. I know that I could run faster. Having not been able to get in much specific training for this marathon, I wonder what could have been. Additionally, how much was I slowed by the wind? There's definitely more there.

Some point that evening, D asked me, "Are you going to be upset about those 11 seconds?" I'm not at all—for the reasons she was asking. Again, I never went into this race with a goal of qualifying for Boston, and I stick to what I said to Jamie post-race: I'm glad I don't have the pressure of having to run Boston in 2013. Honestly, I think it's a little sad that so many people measure and limit themselves by a marathon time that a group of guys with calculators in a board room have determined is what I need to enter their race. I'm a little upset about those 12, not 11, seconds because it would be awesome to have dropped my PR to 3:09:59. But, honestly, I gave it all I had on a really hard marathon course. Could I have found a half second per mile? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it was an awesome day, and I'm really proud of my 3:10:11. Really proud, and despite what the BAA says, I think I should be.

Leg flush!

You mean I have to stand up now?

It always hurts less when you run well and seeing my friends, new and old, do the same was awesome. Jamie earned a new marathon PR and crushed his course PR with a 3:12:09. Anita wasn't far behind, winning her age group in the process. Ty was right behind her. D found me in the crowd for an emotional hug, and my parents were right behind. Sam wanted nothing to do with me, "Daddo sweaty," but she had no problem eating my hard-earned ice cream. Jamie and I headed for the beer tent (We were in the top ten in the "get your post-marathon beer" race!) and were soon joined by Blaine, who rocked a 3:03, top ten finish, Jim and NJ Dave. Spirits were high as everyone was pleased with their efforts, but we all agreed—we'd rather be on the trails. Trail Monsters for sure!

Trail Monsters in their natural habitat.

Thanks to everyone out on the course cheering for me: Mindy, Pete, Kate and her parents. Each yell was much appreciated. Huge thanks to my parents for helping us keep Sam in check all weekend and helping D while I was racing. And, finally, thanks to D for pulling off another amazing balancing act allowing me to get out and race—definitely the most impressive performance of the weekend.

My crew at Sand Beach.

Craig Cup 5k - Race Report

2011-10-11T22:31:00.002-04:00

Another weekend. Another 5k. This time, it was the Craig Cup 5k. Cross country! I have no idea what's gotten into me. Well, that's not true. I'm hoping that a little 5k action will help build some speed for the MDI Marathon, and I may or may not be addicted to racing. So, I found myself at Twin Brook on a beautiful fall morning completely apprehensive about the task at hand. I knew that, unlike the 65 Roses 5k, the competition at the Craig Cup 5k would be pretty stiff. But, just like the 65 Roses 5k, I was completely out of my element. Luckily, the Craig Cup is actually a Trail Monster Running event under the direction of Jeff, so there were plenty of friendly faces. Offsetting that was the fact that this was also my first cross country race in fifteen years. What am I doing here?

I went out for my warmup on the course wanting to see exactly what I was getting into. I know the trails from the TMR TNR, but I'd never looked at them with the idea of running as fast as possible. A high school cross country team was out doing a workout on the course, so I was intermingled with them, which helped me not focus on how crappy I felt. I hate warming up. I made it back to the start/finish area, and guys were doing strides, high leg kicks and whatnot. What am I doing here? I did a couple strides of my own. I did not don spikes or flats, and I headed to the line. I knew that the field would be full of fast roadies used to these sorts of races, so I figured anything in the top 20 would be reasonable.

Jeff and I took our spots on the far left side of the longer than necessary starting line, which turned out to be an excellent angle to the first turn. As the gun went off, I took off like it was a cross country race...from what I could remember...and did a quick scan of the entire field to my right. I was in a around 15th or so around the first corner and moved up a few spots as I settled in an uncomfortably comfortable pace. It also felt a bit uncomfortable because Jeff was behind me, which was a very unfamiliar position for both of us. I noticed right away that guys were avoiding the puddles and muddy spots when the width of the trail allowed, but I was only focused on running the tangents. I figured I needed to keep the suffering to a minimum and could handle a few off-kilter steps here and there.

My entire thought process was focused on staying relaxed and not backing off. Admittedly, I feel like a backed off a bit as we entered the woods as I let a TLB (tall, lanky bastard) in spikes and high split shorts get pull away. "Hmmm...he clearly runs 5ks. Better let him go." Weak.

That's my 5k face. Just past 1 mile.

Despite that lapse, I went through the mile in a startling quick 5:57. Knowing that I ran 18:53 (6:05 average) on the roads at 65 Roses, I figured anything under 21:00 would be respectable on a cross country course, so I was a bit panicked by the split and decided not to look at my watch again. Relax and hammer. However, in many ways this race was very different from 65 Roses in that it was a race—I had people to run with. I passed a runner after we ducked back into the woods, could still see the TLB ahead sporadically and could feel another runner right behind me. Based on the cheers from Val and Ian at the mile mark, I assumed it was Jeff since they had said "Jeff's right behind you." (Thankfully, even when I'm low on oxygen I can do some simple math.) But, as we popped back into the fields briefly at around 1.5 miles guy-in-a-blue-shirt (Gibs) moved up and passed me. He nearly went straight through a righthand turn as we reentered the woods. I yelled to him that he was off course and briefly regained my place. I had delusions of staying ahead of him, but after a few seconds he passed me again. Back to chasing. I stayed as close as I could, but couldn't maintain his pace. My real problem was the downhills. I couldn't keep up with the turnover. Hmmm...track work, anyone?

Gibs had a decent gap at two miles when I again passed Ian and Val who seemed a bit more adamant in their cheers that Jeff was right behind me...really. Uh oh. For some reason, I figured that if I could get back to the fields, approximately a half mile to go, ahead of Jeff, I could hold him off. My only reasoning for this was that there was no way I was going to let anyone pass me in the final half mile. That's not how you run cross country. Luckily, I could still see Gibs, and, foolishly, I never gave up on catching him. So, pulled by Gibs up ahead and pushed by the specter of Jeff from behind, I hit the fields a tried to relax and open it up. Surprisingly, I never tied up during this race. I was able to stay fairly relaxed despite being well out of my comfort zone. I mean, I had the serious XC-froth going on, but that's just how we harriers roll. (Yeah, I'm not buying that either.) I crested the final hill confident in my place and was shocked when I hit my watch after I crossed the line: 18:52, 9th place. I managed to run one second faster than I had two weeks ago on a much easier course. That's racing vs. time trialing. Really stoked with this result. Of course, my elation was short lived as the clock reached 18:55, and Jamie reminded me that I'm running a marathon this weekend. Never liked that guy.

RESULTS

Finishing. Ouch.

I have to admit, this race was actually kind of fun. Cross country hurts. A LOT. But, it's a cool kind of hurt. It's a great combination of running fast and not running on roads. Maybe I'll try to do a few more of these next year. I'd love to attempt to get fast enough to not embarrass myself at Franklin Park—so many great memories of racing there in high school. Yup, attempting to capture lost glory. I must be creeping up on the masters category.

Training 9/25 - 10/1

2011-10-06T22:14:00.000-04:00

In the interest of not falling further behind...

Onto the numbers...

9/25, Sunday: 8.5 total, 65 Roses 5k. I still don't know what I was thinking, but not complaining about the result.

9/26, Monday: 6.25 - 57:12, Commons w/ D. Real easy recovery run. Nice to get out with the missus. No ill effects from the 5k.

9/27, Tuesday: 18.5 - 3:00:35, Topsham & Cathance Trails. With the MDI Marathon on the horizon, I should have done a longish road run, but I couldn't really stomach the thought. The trails were too much of a pull. Plus, I took this opportunity to explore some new to me trails, which did not disappoint. And, really, this run was just about getting it done on some tired legs. They were very tired. My energy was never bad, though, so that's a good sign. It was warmer than I expected out, and one handheld didn't get it done. I had to stop at the Cathance River Ecology Center where the caretaker was nice enough to let me fill up. She even gave me a tour of the facility, too.

9/28, Wednesday: Off

9/29, Thursday: 5 - 40:59, Highland Green. Not sure if it was the misty, windy conditions, general malaise or tired legs, but I felt pretty off and crappy. Things got a bit better by the end, but not much. It didn't help that I barely had time to squeeze this 40 minutes in, when I had hoped to do a speed workout. I was hoping for 3 x 2 mile, but it wasn't happening. All this led to me being in a generally foul mood.

9/30, Friday: 7 - 49:49, Stratton Road, Williamstown. We headed west for the memorial service for D's grandmother, and I was able to get in a run shortly after we arrived but before a family dinner. I wasn't expecting much after a 5+ hour car ride but held out hope for a decent loop. I was warned it was hilly, and they weren't kidding. However, I felt really, really good, so after two miles I decided to make the next 5 a tempo run. Ended up averaging about 6:45-6:50 for those miles and was holding myself back a bit. Really pleasant surprise.

10/1, Saturday: 4.5 - 44:53, Clark Trails, Williamstown. Still in Williamstown and still hilly. D and I snuck out first thing in the morning in a steady rain to explore the trails behind the Clark Art Museum. Since we were short on time, we didn't explore beyond the main system, which has a couple old logging roads connected to it, which looked very tempting for a long journey. We sloshed up and down neither of us feeling particularly frisky due to the weather and the early hour. Good run, though, and a small system I'd definitely recommend.

Totals: 49.75
Trail: 29.25
Road: 20.5

A great week on tired legs. Nice to follow up last week's big number with a 50-mile (close enough) week. I ended up averaging 54 miles per week in September, which should give me a strong base. Two taper weeks for MDI now. Still hoping to find a little speed for the marathon, but it's mostly out of my hands now.

65 Roses 5k - Race Report

2011-09-26T22:40:00.002-04:00

I was fairly reluctant to write a report for this race for three reasons. First, I'm a trail/distance snob. I admit it. Second, it's a 5k. It's so short, what could possibly happen? And, third, my participation was very much an afterthought, and I was only viewing it as a workout. I haven't done any training at all...in years...that would lend itself to being ready for a 5k. So, with all that in mind, what the heck was I doing running a road 5k in the first place?

My goal for running race was to attempt to find/manufacture a little speed for the MDI Marathon. As I mentioned, I'm only good at running slow right now. My hope was to get into a race situation and get dragged along to a fast (for me) time. I actually spotted this race almost two weeks ago, and I figured if I felt good enough after the Pisgah Mountain 50k and a subsequent big week, I'd go for it. Well, I felt good enough, and D was up for watching the kiddo (THANKS, Lady!), so I went for it.

After the usual scramble to get all of us out of the house in the morning, we arrived at the Eastern Prom with plenty of time for me to register and do a warmup on the course. One, I wanted to see exactly what the course was, and, two, I needed all the warmup I could get, since it usually takes me a few miles to feel human. Immediately, the unseasonably high humidity was noticeable, but I figured if I couldn't handle 5k of humidity, I should retire now. That being said, warming up for the race reminded me that I hate races that I need to warm up for. Does anyone ever feel good on a warm up? I felt slow and creaky, but I went to the line drenched in sweat and did a few strides, which felt totally foreign. I saw a few people I knew—Stephen, Kelly, Brian—and they each asked me the same thing, "What are you doing here?" I was very much out of my element.

As I said, I didn't really know anything about the race, which was a benefit for cystic fibrosis. Listening to the race director give her pre-race announcements, story of the race and dedication to a man who lost his life to the disease last month, I don't think there was a dry eye in the house. Pretty moving, and I felt a little guilty for wishing they wold get things going so my calves wouldn't tighten up.

Onto the actual race...
The horn sounded, and within a few strides, I settled into third place. First place, was long gone, and second steadily pulled away from me in the first mile. The footsteps behind me also eventually went quiet. I never really looked at my Garmin during the race because I was basically all out the entire time. It wasn't like I could pick it. I was shocked to see a 5:48 first mile split when I eventually downloaded the data.

My only complaint with the race happened just as I turned from the Eastern Prom Trail onto India St. The volunteer at this corner was sure if he was supposed to stop traffic or wave them through. Hence, I needed to weave around/run into an SUV, but it only cost me a few seconds. Traffic volunteers need to be aggressive. He wasn't. I'm sure his job was easier when the masses rolled through.

Mile 2 was mostly uphill on India and Washington back to the Eastern Prom. I was in no man's land, but managed a 6:15 while climbing. The final mile rolled a bit, until a nasty hairpin turn (read: come to a dead stop practically) just before mile 3, which led to the finish. I crossed the line in 3rd place, 1st in my age group with a time of 18:53, 6:05 avg. It was great to get cheers from Jeff in the final mile, and Sam was kind enough to take a break from the playground to wave as I went by.

RESULTS

I didn't get the race situation I'd hoped for, but I'm pleased with the time. My best case scenario was to go sub-19, so no complaints. Jeff gave me a tour of the trails in the area for a 2.5-mile cooldown, I grabbed my age group award, and we headed off for breakfast with the family. Road 5k's are still not my thing, but it was fun to get into a race...well, because I love racing.

Training 9/18 - 9/24

2011-09-24T14:09:00.004-04:00

My biggest week of the year. I'm tired. My hope was to feel good enough after the Pisgah Mountain 50k to train right on through this week and next. Managed to pull that off for this week, so we'll see how the next seven days go. I've been consuming an alarming amount of food this week. I like that.

Onto the numbers...

9/18, Sunday: Pisgah Mountain 50k - 4:50:19, 16/102. RESULTS. Once again, a pretty shocking and great day for me. Comparing the results to last year, a lot of other folks took off big minutes, too, which is cool to see. My middle toe is also cool to see:

9/19, Monday: 9 - 1:28:11, Cathance River Trails. With the Lookout Mountain 50 on my calendar, I was really hoping I feel not feel too trashed. I headed onto the Cathance trails to attempt to put in some real ultra training. Nine miles was best case scenario if I felt OK with shorter options possible if it wasn't meant to be. Luckily, I felt tired, but not that bad. The first couple miles were pretty rough, especially my quads, but I got into a good groove by the middle. By the end, I could tell I was a bit dehydrated from the 50k, but no complaints. Well, my quads weren't too thrilled with the proceedings.

9/20, Tuesday: Off. What? That's 40 miles in two days!

9/21, Wednesday: 5 - 39:58, Highland Green. Comfortable spin around the neighborhood, and I felt pretty good. Still noticeable fatigue in my quads and calves, but nothing to cause any concern.

9/22, Thursday: 7 - 1:04:31, Dump Loop. Explored a new to me trail that is sadly only 2.25 miles from my house. That just shows how little trail running I've been able to do this summer. In any event, that addition nicely connected the dots on this mellow, but groovy, trail loop. I'd also like to make this loop part of a much larger loop through Topsham. Stay tuned... Legs felt much better today, but I still kept the pace nice and easy. No need to push it. It had rained overnight, so I was good and muddy and very soggy when I finished. Great run.

9/23, Friday: 15 - 1:52:24, Foreside Road + Patriot Commons w/ 12 at MP, 7:19 avg. This run was a test on a couple levels. First, I really wanted to make up for last week's MP run that ended poorly. Second, I wanted to see how my legs would respond on this run in the middle of such a big week. And, third, it was the first real run in my new shoes. Happy to report, the run was a success on all fronts. I was a little smarter with the pacing today, so that certainly helped me stay within myself. Although, after my initial 3-mile warmup, I felt pretty out of it for miles 4-6. I felt like I was pressing and couldn't get into any kind of rhythm. I'd brought a "just-in-case" gel with me, so I popped it at 45-minutes, and it seemed to turn things around. I fell into a really nice groove in the middle miles and didn't feel like I was working at all until about mile 12. I was definitely aware of the fatigue in my legs, but, overall, I felt better than I would have expected, even though it was insanely heavy and humid for mid-September. I was completely saturated by the end. Finally, the shoes felt great. I just hope I have time to get in a few more quality runs in them before the MDI Marathon.

9/24, Saturday: 5 - 42:11, Highland Green. Easy shuffle first thing in the morning. My legs felt very heavy, but that's exactly what I expected. At a couple points, I caught myself dropping the pace to a more normal rate for this loop but held myself in check. I really just wanted to flush yesterday's junk out of the legs and close the week out on a high note. Strangely disciplined on my part.

Totals: 72.5
Trail: 47.5
Road: 25

Yup. 70+. Me. After I got in the 9 on Monday, I thought I'd try to get to 70 for the week, figuring it was perfect a month out from MDI and a good base for Lookout Mountain. I'm a little tired, and I've been eating a ton, but that seems about right. The mileage will drop each of the next 3 weeks leading up to MDI, and I'm going to try to build in some speed. Looking at this week, I'm obviously feeling confident about my strength, but anything under 7:00 pace feels like a full-on sprint. Honestly, though, I think it's pretty hilarious that I ran a 70-mile week and am talking about speedwork for a marathon as if it's a 10k. Clearly, I've made the mental shift into ultra-mode. My five hour run at Pisgah was, yes, hard, but it didn't feel long. I never had a "I can't believe I'm still out here" moment. So, a road marathon should feel downright brief by comparison. I hope. As long as my legs can handle the pavement, it should go OK.

Training 9/11 - 9/17

2011-09-20T21:45:00.000-04:00

A bit of backwards blogging, but I wanted to get my Pisgah report done while the elation/suffering was fresh in my mind.

Onto the numbers...

9/11, Sunday: 12 - 1:39:54, Bradbury Bruiser.

9/12, Monday: 5 - 39:01, Highland Green. Good, solid recovery run. Felt a bit tight and creaky but was happy to report no issues with the ankle.

9/13, Tuesday: 5.5 - 49:29, TMR TNR @ Twin Brook. Great, easy run with the crew. Sneakily humid and the mosquitoes had us all scurrying into our cars post-run.

9/14, Wednesday: 11 - 1:21:33, River + Meadow Cross Roads. Plan was for 3 easy, then 8 at marathon pace. In the end, I averaged 7:14 for the MP miles, but that's definitely faster than my current marathon pace. It was a bit of a strange run, though, as the first 5 MP miles felt super easy, but then I felt like I got smacked in the final 3. They were much, much more difficult and painful, and the suffering came on quite suddenly. Not sure what to make of this effort. It was warm and humid, so that could be a factor.

9/15, Thursday: Off

9/16, Friday: 5 - 41:34, Homeplace + .5 around the neighborhood testing out new shoes. A cool, breezy nearly perfect day on the trails around the Homeplace Loop, which I hadn't run since I strained my calf on July 2. Normally a staple loop, it was nice to get back to it. Everything felt good, and I took it very easy. A minute or two after I arrived home, UPS delivered a new pair of shoes: Brooks Racer ST 5. They never made it into the house, and I took them right out for a short test spin. I'm always extremely nervous ordering shoes online, since very few styles/brands actually fit me, but Brooks have been treating me right on both the roads and trails for a while now. I'm happy to report that they felt great and the fit was perfect. My plan is to use these for both training and racing, specifically the MDI Marathon. That being said, I feel a bit dirty for buying road racing flats.

9/17, Saturday: 3 - 23:07, Patriot Commons. This run was my attempt at a taper for Pisgah. Instead of 7+ on Mt. Ararat as I probably would have done, I took the new shoes out for a short spin around the neighborhood. They're snappy.

Totals: 42
Trail: 23
Road: 19

A fairly uneventful, easy week. Aside from the confusion of the marathon pace run, really not much to report. And, frankly, with all my injuries and other maladies, that's a good thing. Looking ahead, the plan is to recover from/train through Pisgah and then build up some speed for MDI. Right now, I'm good at running slowly for a long time. That's not going to get it done in the marathon.

Pisgah Mountain 50k - Race Report

2011-09-19T22:36:00.001-04:00

Where do you begin with a race report that culminates with a 35-minute course PR? (I've been trying to type the next sentence for about 10 minutes.) Honestly, I surprised myself. I hadn't even committed to running until after last weekend's race. I figured that if I made it through the Bradbury Bruiser unscathed, it was worth taking a chance with the ankle at Pisgah. After all, D was running, and if I'm driving all that way...

The success at this race, really starts on Saturday evening when we drove to my parents' house, as they offered to watch the kiddo for the day, while D and I raced. It takes a village to run ultras. So, on Sunday morning, D and I hit the road at about 5:30 after a horrendous night's sleep due to the aforementioned kiddo. I was basically awake from about 3:45 on. Good times. Luckily, the drive was uneventful and after about two hours, we arrived at the epicenter of the universe, aka Chesterfield, NH. I registered, chatted with a whole host of familiar faces, downed a Red Bull, and then it was time to race.

The start wasn't the most organized affair, but I soon fell into a comfortable place and pace running alongside Nick Tooker, whom I met last year at Pisgah. We chatted the whole way up the road that leads to the park, but he soon took off on the first downhill on his way to a 10th place finish in the 23k. Interestingly enough, I met Nick as we walked up that very same road in 2010. I ran it this year. That would be a recurring theme throughout the day.

I rolled along very comfortably passing a couple people in the first few miles until I caught fellow Mainer, Peter Keeney, shortly before the water cache at 5 miles, which we rolled through at around 44:00. I immediately noted what I already knew: that was faster than last year. I tried hard to not compare this year to last because I didn't want to get too up or too down depending on how I was faring, but it was really hard not to. I wanted to make certain the 2011 race was a completely separate experience from the 2010 race. So, I tried very hard in the early miles to stay focused on how I was feeling in the moment. And, I came face to face with that dichotomy as I led Peter along the Dogwood Swamp Trail and the first major climb of the race. Last year, I slowed, dumbfounded by the climb, to a walk. This year, I ran 95% of it, and it felt fairly easy.

Peter and I ran alone chatting the entire time until just before the 8-mile aid station when we caught another runner, and the three of us arrived at approximately 1:15. I downed a cup of Gatorade and started up the long climb that follows. I walked a few of the steeper bits allowing the other two to pull ahead, but I soon reached the top thinking that it wasn't nearly as big of a climb as I remembered. I passed Peter just before the top and soon caught the other runner who introduced himself as Jonathan from Rhode Island. He actually recognized me from my blog, which I found hilarious...someone reads this! He was running his first 50k and asked me what I ran last year and if I knew our pace. "Well, last year I ran 5:25, and we're quite a bit ahead of that now. In fact, 12 minutes ahead at the last aid station." So, there I was comparing again.

As we turned right onto the Chestnut Hill Trail, Jonathan got a bit ahead of me as we climbed, and I downed a package of margarita Clif Shot Bloks. Once you crest the climb, you hit the most technical/unrunnable section of the entire course—very rooty, wet, rocky, uneven, fraught with death. It was the first time in the race that I worried about and was slowed by my ankle. I was cautious, yet still rolled it a couple times. Luckily, the strength has returned fairly quickly, so each time was without incident. I caught Jonathan once things became more runnable, and we chatted all the way into the 12-mile aid station with Peter just behind. I paused to refill a bottle with Nuun, giving Peter enough time to sneak out ahead of me, but Jonathan was behind and I wouldn't see him until after the finish.

In my memory, the stretch after the aid station was flat and really runnable. Not so much with the flat. It climbed a fair amount after the aid station, which I mentioned to Peter as I passed him for the final time. I also caught and passed another runner here shortly before turning left on the Reservoir Trail, which is my favorite section of the entire race. I felt great here last year, and things were no different this time around. I picked up the pace (as much as the terrain allows), feeling relaxed, and ran alone all the way to the 17-mile aid station.

Reaching the aid station in about 2:39, it was now clear to me that my Garmin was coming up a bit short. So, I knew that my pace was a bit better than what it was reading. I also knew that my pace was pretty solid. I was 3 hours at this point in 2010, which was a key moment in the race, because I had hoped to be at mile 20 in three hours. Needless to say, my spirits were high at this point, and I joked with the volunteers about not having hot dogs available as I downed a cup of Gatorade and a few potato chips before taking off. But, before I left, they informed me I was in 23rd place. Hmmm... If the race played out the same as last year, I may be able to pick off a few runners and sneak into the top 20. Let's go climb Pisgah Ridge!

Less that 10 minutes out of the aid station, I looked up and saw 22nd place. I was walking up steep section, but I could tell I was moving faster than he was. As I was getting close, he passed another runner, and I quickly moved by both of them. Hmmm... 21st place. There has to be another guy out there I can get. This was great motivation as I negotiated the Pisgah Ridge, which is probably a nice trail if it didn't come 18 miles into a 50k, and you're not trying to race. However, during the race, it's just hard. The view of Mt. Monadnock is nice...but not that nice. That being said, I rolled into the aid station at 20 miles in 3:09 getting cheers from Nick who had finished and was out to support his 413 peeps. I filled another bottle with Nuun and was off onto the dreaded Kilburn Loop.

The Kilburn Loop: Where dreams go to die.
It starts off so runnable and enjoyable, but soon devolves into the worst place on earth. I passed one runner on the downhill section. Hmmm... That's top 20. This was good. My legs were bad however. I'd been feeling my quads since about the ten-mile mark along with a blister on my left heel just for shits and grins. I was a bit worried how I was going to hold up in the final third of the race. But, luckily, the Kilburn Loop really sums up ultrarunning: just keep moving. Feeling good about getting into the top 20 (keep in mind, I was 28th last year), I hit the "bottom" of the loop which feels like it should be half way around but is really only about a third...of time, anyway...and saw another runner up ahead. He was looking back. "Yup, I'm coming to get you, mofo." I actually said that out loud. Anything to motivate at this point in the race. It took me a while to catch him, and he wasn't too thrilled to let me by, but I was stoked to move into 19th. A few minutes later, I caught a runner who was walking/stumbling. That's 18th. Of course, the numbers mean nothing because I was slowly becoming a walking/stumbling mess myself. Unlike the Pisgah Ridge, I can't think of any time when I'd want to be on the Kilburn Loop. Everyone struggles around this thing. I would find myself inexplicably walking for a few strides on sections that were eminently runnable. At one point, I said out loud, "Get me outta here." There's even a section that looks very similar to the end, but it's not the end. It keeps going. I hate the Kilburn Loop.

In a moderate stroke of genius, I had actually had timed myself the first time through the section of trail that repeats the end of the Pisgah Ridge/Kilburn Loop/into the aid station. (Look at the map, since I've described this poorly.) It was about 6 minutes the first time through, and at the end of the Kilburn Loop, I laughed out loud. I was going to hit the final aid station at 25 miles in exactly 4 hours leaving me with a hour to break 5 hours. "That's cruel."

Along with the joy of the Kilburn Loop, my stomach had also started to turn on me near the end. I was due to take another gel at the final aid station, but food intake was not happening. (I'd taken something every half hour up until then: Gu-Espresso, Clif Shot-Razz, Clif Shot Bloks-Margarita, Honey Stinger Waffle, Clif Shot-Razz, Hammer Gel-Vanilla, Clif Shot Bloks-Margarita) The nausea came on completely without warning, and I've never had a similar feeling either training or racing. Ah...ultras. Luckily, I'd brought along a couple ginger chews with me, and I stuffed one in my cheek for the next couple miles. I really believe this saved me from puking.

I left the aid station in 3:59 and change. While I was gingerly (pun intended) drinking a cup of water, another runner had come in, splashed a couple cups of Gatorade into his bottle and took off. I clearly didn't have that kind of gusto and didn't care that I'd dropped back into 19th. I was feeling kinda barfy. A couple spectators were along this next stretch of dirt road offering encouragement, including a group with small kids, which really lifted my spirits. One adult said, "You're looking great." "I don't fell great," I replied, but I kept moving.

I was somewhat dreading the turn at the parking lot onto the Davis Hill Trail. With good reason, since it was really torn up and uneven last year. I was pleased to find it in slightly better shape this year, and I passed another runner. Back in 18th. Time to suffer. And, that's really what I did for the remaining miles. My left quad was slightly cramping/spasming in these final miles, but every time it did I tried to combat it by running harder. It made me mad more than anything, and I was determined to not let it slow me down. Thankfully, it never locked up and I reached the park gate at 4:40:40. I had already convinced myself that breaking 5 hours had slipped away, and I figured I had about 2 miles to go at this point. Either way, I knew that I was going to run much faster than 2010, so I forced myself to drop the pace as soon as I hit the road knowing how mad I'd be at myself if I either got passed or didn't give it everything I had in the final stretch. After all, I finally didn't have to worry about my ankle like I had been all day. Time to just run.

I remembered a down (Hello, quads!) and two ups before the stop sign that marked the final turn/200 yards of the race, and I had the good fortune of seeing another runner up ahead. I was able to focus on trying to catch him as I dropped the pace as best I could. I knew he was too far out to ever catch him, but it certainly motivated me to try. My left quad started twitching on the second climb, but I could see the stop sign. It's the most beautiful stop sign in the world. I rounded that final corner and pumped my fists. It had been a good day on the trails.

I crossed the line in 4:50:19. So, clearly both my Garmin and recollection of the final road section were short. I waddled over to the results board and was thrilled to see myself in sixteenth place. Obviously, two runners had dropped after mile 17, bumping me up in the standings. Again, the time is a 35-minute improvement over 2010. I have no explanation for such an improvement. Going into the race, I thought I had an outside shot of breaking 5 hours but would really have been happy with anything under last year's time of 5:25. Throw into the mix the bad ankle (well, all this spring/summer's injuries/illness) and the fact that I didn't taper, aside from running 3 miles instead of 5 on Saturday, this race is really a mystery. But, I'm not complaining. Guess I'll just have to run 4:25 next year...

The biggest difference this year was that I wasn't afraid of the distance. Last year, I had only one run 50k prior to the race, and that race was a complete mess. I didn't really know if I could run an ultra, and it was a huge relief to do so. Since then, I've had a good result in a 50k. And, because I wasn't afraid of the 31 miles, I ran a lot more. I pushed a lot harder early on. On the long downhill before the mile 8 aid station, I said to Peter and Jonathan, "I'm sure I'm going to feel this downhill later." But, it was a joke when I said it. I knew it was going to hurt later, but I wasn't really worried about it. It's an ultra. It's supposed to hurt. Might as well embrace it. And, really, that was my attitude all day. Even when I was hating the Kilburn Loop, I felt like it was exactly what I expected and exactly what I signed up for. The other takeaway: that course is hard.

Since this was really D's race, I would be remiss if I didn't mention her awesome performance: 5th woman, 33rd overall in 5:34:28. Anyone who claims you need to sleep to be a great runner, needs to take a look at her performances this summer.

I'm starting to think that this race might be a "must do" every year. The course, while hard, is beautiful. The race directors put on a good show with no frills. The course is well-marked, but not over-marked, and all the aid station volunteers are friendly and very helpful. There's a barbecue at the finish. (Oh yeah, my stomach was fine within 10 minutes of finishing, and I downed 2 hamburgers, a hot dog, 2 heaping servings of pasta salad and a coffee milk.) Each entrant gets a loaf of bread. Just a great race. And, face it, you've always wanted to know where Chesterfield is.

Bradbury Bruiser - Race Report

2011-09-14T22:36:00.002-04:00

On Friday morning, I was 90% certain I wasn't going to run the 2011 edition of the Bradbury Bruiser. However, after successfully negotiating five miles at The Brad without hurting my already gimpy ankle, I bumped the odds up to 50%. On Saturday, I felt really fresh running 5 miles pushing the kiddo in the BOB. So, the odds became a bit better. I packed up my gear with the intention of running on Sunday, but I hadn't fully committed even when I arrived at The Brad. Luckily, I was distracted by making final race preparations, helping with registration and setting up the finish area. Before I knew it, the time had come to race, so I just made my way over with the rest of the crew. I guess I'm running.

I lined up a couple rows back, and at the cowbell, I was surprised to find myself taking off at race pace. I was very nervous about completely wrecking my ankle, so I made sure I could see where I was landing at all times. Going into the first section of singletrack, I was right behind fellow Trail Monster Dave Roberts and was feeling very comfortable with the pace. Scott Hornney was just behind, and we chatted as we negotiated the Island Trail. The roots were certainly a concern, and I took all the corners fairly wide since it seemed all the gnarliest pieces were on the inside. My gait was part run, part tiptoe. Cautious doesn't fully describe it.

It was a huge relief to reach the end of the Island Trail. Not that it's much less technical on Lanzo, but it's a bit more open and less twisty. I was also stunned with my time at this point: 14:55, which was nearly identical to last year, when I was in a much better race mindset. And, it was clear on this day that I was not in a race mindset. I remember thinking at one point when I could feel a number of guys behind me, "Ugh...I guess I'm racing." Not a good way to perform at a top level.

Shortly after the ridiculous mountain bike bridge on Ginn, I passed Dave as I felt like I was moving a little better on the uphills. Jeremy jumped around me a few seconds later looking like he was out for an easy jog. I tried to stay with him for a bit, but he was moving far too well. It was at this point that I realized that acidotic Racing's Dan Dion and Rich Lavers were right behind me. "Ugh...I guess I'm racing." Dan stayed with me as we entered the Bat Cave Trail, but Rich had fallen off the pace a bit. After nearly running into a handful of mountain bikers who seemed confused by the sight of people not biking, Dan and I turned onto the Snowmobile Trail together. He and I had been chatting back and forth sporadically, and I was both pleased to feel very comfortable at my present pace and to have not rolled my ankle. And, to my surprise, I caught a glimpse of Jeremy up ahead. I yelled to him, "Jeremy, come here!" but he didn't oblige. So, I decided to pick up the pace and try to catch him. I was feeling fairly strong on the uphills and was able to drop Dan and come within a few seconds of Jeremy as we turned back onto the singletrack of Ginn.

Ginn and the subsequent turns on Fox West were really my downfall. It's very rooted through those trails, and I was having trouble finding good lines. I never rolled my ankle, but I slowed considerably. Jeremy became a distant memory, and Dan caught me shortly before we crossed Old Tuttle Road and stayed right on me all the way to the final aid station. Physically, I was still feeling pretty strong, and it definitely helped to have him pushing me. Coming out of the aid station and onto the Knight's Woods Trail, I picked up the pace. That hill is my least favorite in the entire park, but I knew that if I had any chance of staying ahead of Dan, I needed the largest advantage I could get before the O Trail. I dug down on this section and felt like I was really pushing hard for the first time all day. I was able to gap Dan and give myself a little cushion going into the O. I made that fateful left-hand turn at 1:14:47 on my watch and totally stunned to see that it was faster than last year by about 30 seconds. I was well-within myself and tiptoeing around the countryside.

Less than a minute into the O, it happened. I rolled my ankle hard. I hobbled for a few steps, said a few choice words, and started walking. I only walked a few strides, though, as it wasn't the complete blow-up I feared, which let me know that it was going to hold up for the rest of the race and beyond. Sure, it's injured, but the strength is returning. "I'm actually going to finish!" Of course, only moments after all these happy thoughts another runner went flying past. "Ugh...I guess I'm STILL racing." I could see that Dan was not far behind and just past the totally unnecessary mountain bike playground bridge, I stepped aside to allow him, another runner and a back-from-the-dead Rich Lavers go past. I soldiered on, but I knew I was being caught again. Fellow Trail Monster, Randy Woods and another runner went by. Well, that's six places lost in the first half of the O. Just keep tiptoeing.

Ian and I marked the O Trail on Saturday morning, and this really helped my mental state. Last year, which was also the last time I was on the O, I struggled with every step of the labyrinth, but this year, I actually enjoyed it. I had a good idea of where I was and how far I had to go. Granted, people were flying by me, but I basically knew what to expect from corner to corner. Of course, I did overrun a few corners and get off course a couple times. It's impossible not to in the O. During our course marking expedition, Ian had pointed out to me a tree that signified one mile to go. Shortly after I passed that tree one race day, I caught Dan, who said something to the effect, "Where the hell am I?" I told him I had a rough idea, but he didn't want to know. Clearly, the O had broken his spirit because physically, he'd been running strong all race. That's why the O is so tough. Of course, I didn't stick around to help and tried to tiptoe a little faster. I hit the final rock outcropping and knew I was almost done.

As I popped out onto the Knight's Woods Trail, my good buddy Nate Alsobrook had walked back to cheer me on. I said to him, "It's hard to run that trail on one leg," and glanced at my watch. I had about 30 seconds to break 1:40:00. "All right, I guess I'll sprint." I was happy to find plenty of pop in the legs and motored across the line with a smile on my face in 1:39:54 for 17th place.

RESULTS

Unlike the Breaker last month, my legs definitely felt race ready. Clearly, the limiting factor was the ankle in both strength and my cautiousness. The care was warranted, though, as I really needed to come out of the race without further injury. Mission accomplished. In fact, on Monday both ankles were equally sore, which is to say, not very. My head wasn't in race mode, but that will come. It's encouraging to feel a little bit of fitness coming back. Without the ankle injury and with a little more focus, I'm confident I would have run at least 3:31 faster. I lost a ton of time and five places in the O, but there really wasn't anything I could do about it. I wasn't really running for a lot of it. But, all in all, a very good race/non-race for me, and I'm stoked I decided to run.

A lot of great races out there and also a lot of blood, bruises and other maladies. People were really going for it this year, apparently! Once again, D had a terrific race, finishing second and wrapping up the series title on the women's side. Really happy for her, even though she thinks it's "silly." And, despite "never" running well at "his races," Ian had a huge PR, and his head has swelled to unheard of proportions. Deservedly so. Trail Monster Running once again took the team title, and 72!!! people earned Bad Ass status for completing all three races. A great way to wrap up the summer series. Now onto the Bradbury Mountain Snowshoe Series!

Training 9/4 - 9/10

2011-09-10T21:29:00.002-04:00

Despite still battling my left ankle, I was able to put in a really solid week of training. Luckily, all my other parts are feeling good. Unfortunately, because of the ankle, most of the miles were on the roads. Then again, I do have the MDI Marathon coming up in a month, so maybe that's not all bad.

Onto the numbers...

9/4, Sunday: 7 - 1:01:05, Mt. Ararat. Even with the ankle roll just two days before, it was feeling good, and I was eager to get some hills. I did alter the route to a more "ankle-friendly" variation, which saw me running the paved, backside road, which was less steep that the other routes to the summit. I traded the elevation for speed and upped the tempo each time I hit this section. I really liked this variation and will probably run it more often when I'm on Mt. Ararat. Just fun to mix it up. Despite being very humid, I felt good the whole way even with my lack of hill training. More importantly, I didn't further injure my ankle.

9/5, Monday: 5 - 38:38, Highland Green. Pretty snappy tour of this loop for me. In fact, it's the second fastest time I've ever put in on it. Granted, it's always an easy/recovery run, so it's not a tough standard. Regardless, this run felt very easy and the miles just flowed. Good stuff.

9/6, Tuesday: 20 - 2:42:13, Cemetery Hill Figure-8. With my aborted long run last week, I was determined to get some miles in. Still wary of the ankle, I resigned myself to the roads. Aside from the lack of shoulder in some sections, the roads I chose were great—read: hilly. I started out in a light rain that had stopped by about 5 miles, and by the time I finished the sun was out. It never got warm, so that was a bonus. This route uses some roads I remember training on in college. In fact, I have distinct memories of being dropped during workouts on these roads during my freshman year. I feel as if I made amends for those workouts today, putting in a solid 8:06/mile average for the loop.

9/7, Wednesday: Off - Planned. Surprisingly not sore after 20 road miles. I'll take it.

9/8, Thursday: 10.25 - 1:20:36, Simpson's Point via Brunswick Commons. Interested to see how I felt after Tuesday, I planned to run a comfortably, quick 10 on mellow trails/roads. Fortunately, the shoulders on the road sections are very runnable for the most part, and this loop probably only included a mile of on-pavement running. Miles flowed very easily the entire run and was even holding myself back a bit in the middle. Oddly, however, my upper body was a bit creaky/crampy. I assume it was a result of Tuesday, but still random. Either way, I'd say this run was a bigger confidence booster than Tuesday's 20. To feel this good after 20 on the roads was awesome.

9/9, Friday: 5.75 - 1:04:35, Scuffle/Bruiser Hybrid w/ Val. After marking half the race course for Sunday's Bradbury Bruiser, Val and I headed out for an easy run. I was very cautious to not roll my ankle. Mission accomplished. I don't think we had more than a second or two of silence the entire run, which was terrific. Very fine morning on the trails. Thanks, Val!

9/10, Saturday: 5.25 - 42:42, Bike Path w/ Sam-BOB. Following a busy morning of final race preparations for the Bradbury Bruiser, including marking the O Trail with Ian, I picked Sam up from D's sister, who was kind enough to watch her for the morning. Sam fell asleep a few minutes into the ride, so I ate some of her snacks and drove around for about an hour and a half while she napped. We made a half hour stop at home, so I could eat some real lunch, and headed for the Brunswick Bike Path around 3:00pm. I hadn't run with her in the BOB in quite some time...well, not since she's been talking. "Daddo running!" "Sammy running!" "Sammy kick!" Needless to say, she is a fantastic running partner, and we had a great time chatting away when the noise from the cars wasn't too loud. "Truck vroom vroom!" Post-run, we played in the fields a bit before headed home. It's great the weather is getting cooler, so, hopefully, I can take her out in the afternoon for runs on the days I watch her. It would be much easier than D and I trying to squeeze our runs in first thing in the morning.

Totals: 53.25
Trail: 23
Road: 30.25

Yup. 53 miles. Big week for me. Pretty comfortably, too. In fact, it's the third longest week of 2011 for me. (Tops being 61.5, which I've done twice.) Nothing but good things to say. Odd, huh? Well, I need to build up the miles because the other big news this week is that I registered for my first 50-mile race: Lookout Mountain 50 Mile on December 17. Needless to say, I'm really excited. More hills. More miles. I'll be ready to go.

Training 8/28 - 9/3

2011-09-04T12:44:00.002-04:00

An encouraging, yet baffling week.

Onto the numbers...

8/28, Sunday: Off (planned)

8/29, Monday: 10 - 1:17:25, Bowdoin Fields. Plan was to keep the pace sub-8:00/mile, which I didn't think would be too tough on the level fields/trails. I ended up averaging 7:44/mile, but it was much harder than I would have liked. I'm chocking it up to a strange 24-hour stomach bug, though. Starting Sunday afternoon, I had some low-grade nausea, and it stayed with me straight through the run. D and Sam came to play in the fields after I finished, but I had to shoot straight home a wallow on the couch with a headache and feeling generally out of it.

8/30, Tuesday: 5.5 - 50:28, TMR TNR @ Twin Brook. First time running on any "real" trails since my ankle injury, and it went very well. Ran with Mindy the entire way, chatting and keeping the pace nice and easy. Nausea was gone by the time I went to bed on Monday night.

8/31, Wednesday: 6.25 - 57:47, Mt Ararat x12. With the ankle feeling good, I really wanted to get back to my favorite torture. Shockingly, I could feel my hips and butt from the "hilliness" of Twin Brook the day before, which shows all the flat running I've been doing because Twin Brook only boasts a few small bumps, so I was uncertain how it would go. Thankfully, after I creaky start, I got rolling and felt good by the middle and end of the run. I was cautious and slow on the downhill sections, and it showed in my overall pace. However, still a solid run.

9/1, Thursday: 5 - 39:54, Highland Green. Once again, my legs started a bit heavy and creaky, but no worries by the end. Good, easy recovery run.

9/2, Friday: 13.5 - 2:28:33, Bradbury Snowshoe Bad Ass + 1 mile on Boundary Trail. Plan was for at least 20, but a bad re-roll of the left ankle cut things short. Plan was to run the Snowshoe Bad Ass (all three snowshoe courses from the series) and then assess how my legs were handling the hills. If I was feeling good, I'd tack on the Breaker. If I was feeling mediocre, I'd do a loop on the flatter East side. If I was feeling terrible, I'd still do a loop on the flatter East side, but I'd suffer a lot. Kirk offered to meet me, but didn't arrive until after I'd finished the first course. Timing worked out well as I was just getting back to the lot when he was headed out to meet me, and it was great to have some company for the remaining miles. We chatted the entire way, and the hills just kept rolling past. I was being cautious on the downhills (and flats for that matter) due to the ankle, and felt only a few minor twinges here and there after some odd landings. We rolled through the first 12.5 miles in about 2:19, and it had felt very easy. I was confident the Breaker would be no trouble and was confident we'd get it done it under 4 hours. Unfortunately, less than a mile along the Boundary Trail, on a fairly innocuous section, I rolled my ankle. Hard. I was certain that I'd torn something, as I rolled on the ground yelling at the air. After a few minutes, I got to my feet, and Kirk walked while I hobbled back to the parking lot. Strangely, with each step it began to feel and bit better and was barely noticeable when we reached the cars. I'd expected major swelling and/or a nasty bruise but found neither when I removed my shoe and sock. Odd. I even had thoughts about finishing my 20 miles on the roads...

9/3, Saturday: 5 - 41:08, Highland Green. After a long, but really fun, day, I snuck out before dinner/during Sam's bath time to test the ankle. I wasn't sure if I'd make it a quarter mile or the entire five. Well, I made the entire 5 with ease. No issues at all. Some minor tightness in my shin (outside) and bottom of my foot, but no pain in the ankle. I was a bit low on energy due to the day's festivities, but I'm not complaining. This is the strangest injury ever.

Speaking of the day's festivities, Mindy celebrated her fortieth birthday by running 40 miles at The Brad, which is an amazing way to celebrate and a terrific accomplishment. Sam and I went over in the morning and caught everyone as they were finishing their first ~8-mile lap. Once the crew headed out, I loaded Sam up in the backpack, and we went out on the trails to cheer. Unfortunately, it started to rain once we were out there, but between the backpack's snazzy hood and some solid tree cover, she stayed fairly dry. And, I'm still in the running for father of the year...maybe. We also managed to catch the runners a few times, and Sam even got out for a little trail run of her own. "Muddy shoes!" A middy return home for lunch and a failed nap, then it was back to The Brad in afternoon to see Mindy finish up her 40 miles along with Emma, Ian, Jeremy and Zak. I'm extremely impressed by Mindy's ambition to set such a lofty goal and have the determination to see it through. CONGRATS! How could I not get out for a short run after that?

Totals: 45.25
Trail: 35.25
Road: 10

Like I said, an encouraging but baffling week. Pleased to see that I was able to do another solid week after 50 last week with only a few moments of creaky/sluggishness. And, had I not rolled my ankle on Friday, I would have easily been over 50 this week as well. Encouraging. The ankle injury is baffling because even though I felt like I got shot when I rolled it on Friday, it was fine both hiking with the kiddo on my back and running the very next day. Granted, it's not 100%, but it's not crippling. As much as it's going to kill me, I'm probably going to have to stick to the roads for many of my runs until the strength is back in it. A lot of writing the alphabet in the air with my foot for the next couple weeks.

Training 8/14 - 8/27

2011-08-28T13:47:00.002-04:00

A training fortnight!

Onto the numbers...

8/14, Sunday: 9 - 1:16:22, Bradbury Mountain Breaker. Still not really sure how or why I had such a solid result.

8/15, Monday: 5 - 41:35, Highland Green. A little tight and a touch of fatigue after the race, but not sore at all, which is even more baffling. Good to feel a bit tired after a hard effort. Hadn't had that feeling in weeks...months?

8/16, Tuesday: 7.75 - 1:35 running time, Beast Run. Drink a beer, run a mile lap in the trails. Suffice to say, mistakes were made, but a good time was had by all. Thankfully, I was given a ride home. Unfortunately, I rolled my left ankle quite hard only 2 miles into the run. Would've been ideal to ice it afterwards...

8/17, Wednesday: Off...off from life...

8/18, Thursday: 3 - 23:31, Patriot Commons. Flat, road run to test the ankle. It didn't feel that great. Booooorrrrrinng loop.

8/19, Friday: 5 - 38:30, Patriot Commons x2 (Canam Variation). Ankle felt good enough to push it to 5 miles, but not good enough to do something other than another boring, flat, easy road run.

8/20, Saturday: 5 - 39:00, Patriot Commons x2 (Canam Variation). No real/addition pain in the ankle, but left shin was extremely tight/painful from compensating. Some pain in my foot as well. Conscious of it with every step, which only added to the mental torture.

Totals:
Miles: 34.75
Trail: 16.75
Road: 18

Not the mileage I had hoped for, but I'm playing it safe with the ankle/don't have a choice. More curtailing due to injury. I'd be mad if I didn't half expect it at this point, or I had rolled it at the end of the Beast Run, read while...well...drunk. Rolling it early was no different than rolling it on your standard trail run.

8/21, Sunday: Off. Planned to get in a run today, but my shin was fairly painful and randomly spasming all afternoon. Sam and I met D at The Brad while she was doing her long run. I hiked about 2 miles with Sam in the backpack, which must have aggravated it.

8/22, Monday: 9 - 1:09:38, Bowdoin Fields. Surmising that the increase in road runs was exacerbating the pain in my shin, I hoped that the relatively smooth treadway of the trails around Pickard Field would be a viable running option. Turned out to be a very good decision. Got in 9 miles at a reasonably quick pace (7:42/mile) without any shin or ankle pain. Each full lap is about 1.1 miles, and I was able to be creative with switching directions in various locations to keep from getting bored.

8/23, Tuesday: 5 - 37:58, Treamill. "GASP!" On Monday night, I drove down to New Jersey to visit my sister who is recovering from hip surgery. Trapped in the urban jungle, the treadmill in her apartment complex was the best option. I didn't want to risk my ankle on the sidewalks—to great a potential for odd changes of direction from cars and/or pedestrians. Treadmills are evil, but the run was a great way to get the previous day's 6-hour car ride out of my legs.

8/24, Wednesday: 7.5 - 1:28:50, Treadmill - Mt. Washington simulation. Since I don't normally have/want access to a treadmill, I figure I might as well up the torture quotient. Really, I knew that a strength workout would be the best thing I could do, and the treadmill was a safe place to do it without risking the ankle. I was a bit nervous how the constant incline would affect it. Admittedly, it was a touch sore by the end, but not a concern during the run. In any event, I set the incline at 11.5% and pace at 12 minutes from the start and the first hour (when the timer ran out on the treadmill...annoying) was easy. Upon the restart, I felt totally thrown off for the next couple minutes, but soon settled back into my groove. I cranked the pace up to around 11:30 for the final 2.5 miles and could really feel it by the end. Good workout. Although, I was worried my sweat might short out the treadmill...so gross. Clearly, running Mt. Washington on a treadmill isn't nearly as difficult as actually running the mountain, as I was well under my PR, but this reasonable facsimile was a great workout. Plus, knowing the road so well, I could really envision my location as I watched the miles tick by on the treadmill's read out. Just before 4 miles I thought, "Finally, I'm above treeline." And, really, running the road on a treadmill is akin to running the road below treeline: it all looks the same.

8/25, Thursday: 5 - 37:42, Treadmill. Easy recovery run on the treadmill, even though I pushed the pace at the end to get it over with. Legs were neither sore nor tired from the previous day. Luckily, I borrowed my sister's iPod all three days, otherwise it would have been impossible. Hopefully, on my next visit, I'll be able to get out on the roads.

8/26, Friday: 18 - 2:40:45, Bowdoin Fields, Brunswick Town Commons and Simpson's Point. I never fell good about my training unless I'm getting a long run in, and based on Monday's success and healing of the ankle, I hoped that a mish-mash route on flat, level terrain would work. Turns out, it did work. Started out with a lap around the fields, then headed out through the Commons onto the roads to the ocean at Simpson's Point. I kept the pace easy and stuck to the softer shoulders on the roads where I could. All in all, the run went well, although it's clear I haven't been running much—no spring in the legs, which is similar to how I felt during the Breaker. Set up an "aid-station" at my car, which worked well. I could feel my ankle the whole way, but it never worsened. My shin was never an issue. Not the type of miles I'd like to be doing (read: flat and easy), but better than no miles. Hopefully, I can get some real trails into my long run next week.

8/27, Saturday: 5 - 43:07, Highland Green. Easy plod around the familiar loop. Hamstrings/calves were very tight from the previous day, and I was low on energy. Neither were a surprise. Solid, smart recovery run.

Total: 49.5
Trail: 27
Road: 22

The total for this week was probably a bit more than I should have done, but I'm not known for my solid decision making. My ankle is still an issue—icing daily. I've hit a few small rocks/roots on a couple runs, and I can tell that a bad roll would do some serious damage. Trying to avoid that, while continuing to train is tricky. It will heal, but not if I roll it again. I'm very wary of it on all my runs. It sure would be nice to run some hills and real trails again.

Bradbury Mountain Breaker - Race Report

2011-08-14T19:46:00.002-04:00

Well, lookie here! A race report!

After running 12 miles at The Brad on Monday, I decided to enter the race. Sure, I'm not in race shape—not even close—but I knew at the very least I could enjoy a 9-mile run around Bradbury Mountain. How fast would I go? I didn't really care. I really just wanted to enter a race. I haven't raced since March, and I was missing it. If I could never train and just race, I'd be happy.

Sunday morning arrived, and I managed to get out of the house without D knowing I was racing. I didn't tell her I was running simply because I knew she'd be worried about me. I figured if she didn't find out until just before the race, the better it would be for all of us. I don't think she was surprised to see me with a number on as we headed for the start line. I had arrived at the park before 7:00 to help Ian get everything set up, and, surprisingly, we were both feeling fairly relaxed thanks to a great crew of volunteers and Ian's diligence. Perhaps, we're getting this down.

At the start, my goal was to just run easy. I chatted for much of the first mile with Peter Keeney, until he pulled ahead. I finally caught up to Ian around the back of the Boundary Trail and was glad to hear that his legs were feeling good after his jaunt through the 100 Mile Wilderness. I passed both him and Alan on the climb and headed for the South Ridge Trail. My plan for the crazy descent on the South Ridge was to take it easy so as not to blow out what little strength I have in my quads early on. Ian and Alan obviously had other ideas, as they blew right by me. As we made the transition at the bottom to the uphill that leads to the aid station and the Summit Trail, I was pleased that my legs were still feeling fairly fresh.

I bypassed the aid station passing Alan and then Ian just as we started up the Summit Trail. To this point I'd be spying Jamie up ahead from time to time and said to Ian, "I'm gonna go pants, Jamie." I pulled right up on him giving his shorts a tug as I went by. Wheeee!!! Racing is fun! Well, it became less fun halfway up the Summit Trail, and I knew that my legs were really going to be suffering later in the race.

At some point on the Tote Road, I caught up to Scott Hornney and ran most of the remainder of this lap with him until he expressed his moderate dislike for technical downhills near the end of the Switchback Trail. I went by him here, and Dave Roberts did the same. Dave took a huge digger a few steps later, but was up like nothing happened. We all came through the aid station at the Start/Finish line close together, and I was surprised to see a split of approximately 36:45. That was about 45 seconds faster than last year and a bit shocking. It certainly didn't feel that fast.

Heading out on the second lap, Jamie caught back up to me. We chatted at length about our races thus far, and neither of were feeling particularly frisky. I really didn't feel like I was racing. I just found a pace/level of effort, got into it and stayed there. Neither my legs or my head were really into it. I wasn't going through the motions, but I certainly wasn't racing.

I pulled ahead of Jamie and ran mostly alone (I think) for the remainder of this lap. (Another sign my head wasn't really in it. Usually, I remember every detail of a race.) Each hill felt a little larger this time around, and I could feel a lack of power with every uphill step. By the time I reached the aid station at the base of the Summit Trail, I knew the next stretch was going to be brutal. And, it was. As I started up the Summit Trail, my legs essentially stopped moving. I ran a little bit, but I mostly walked. Five guys passed my during my stroll, including Scott, Jamie and Randy Woods. Not much I could or really wanted to do about it. The summit couldn't come soon enough.

Last year, my strategy was to hammer the Tote Road on the second lap, so I decided this time around to see what I had. To my surprise, my turnover was fairly decent, and I started moving pretty well. Randy was long gone, but I caught Scott and two of the other runners who had passed me. Jamie was also coming back to me. I got within about 5 seconds, but as we turned onto the Northern Loop Trail for the final climb to the summit, he pulled steadily away. I never packed it in, but I knew I wasn't going to catch him. I glanced at my watch as I was approaching the field and nearly laughed out loud realizing that was going to be pretty close to last year's time. I finished as strong as I could coming up just short of my PR from last year with a time of 1:16:22; 17th place.

RESULTS

Honestly, I have no idea how I ran that time. I was thinking 1:30 would be fine, and 1:25 would be a good result. Keep in mind, I've only been really running for 3 weeks. I guess I'm well rested. Interestingly, I wasn't really breathing that hard or struggling for much of the race. (Sure, the Summit Trail was ugly, but it's supposed to be.) I was chatting with people, smiling for the crew we had there cheering (watching Sam), thanking the aid station volunteers. I felt fine. I had my pace/level of effort, and I stayed there. My legs, on the other hand, were worthless. No fire. No pop. No nuttin'. However...no surprise. Training matters, and I haven't been training. Stoked to come away uninjured, though. That's for sure.

Speaking of training, it was clear that since I haven't been training, I also haven't been training mentally. I haven't trained myself to really push it. I'm certain I could have run faster today, but I couldn't mentally push myself to do so. My head wasn't in the game. I didn't believe that I could run faster. I wasn't willing to take a risk. My head wasn't race ready. Now, this isn't a complaint. Just an observation, and a valuable lesson learned.

Thanks goes out to Ian for once again putting on a great race...and dropping a big PR on the day. I feel like we're in a groove with these races, and it's fun to help put them on. Big thanks to my in-laws for watching Sam, so D and I could both run. And, thanks to everyone who knew I was running for not telling D I was doing so. :) Oh, D was second overall to climb to the top of the series standings. More pumpkin bread for me!

Training 8/7 - 8/13

2011-08-13T21:11:00.002-04:00

As I said to Mindy today, "I'm not back, but I'm mobile." Today marks the end of three weeks of actual running. Nothing earth-shattering, but I'm certainly not complaining. I did break the 30-mile barrier last week and bumped it up a bit more this week. I figured that warranted a long-lost training post, which I haven't written in three months.

Onto the numbers...

8/7, Sunday: 5 - 39:40, Highland Green. This loop is just about the flattest, easiest route I can tolerate. And, in reality, it's become a good barometer for how I'm feeling at any given point in the week. 40:00 is my benchmark. Just ducked under that mark on this day, despite my legs feeling a bit heavy.

8/8, Monday: 12 - 2:10:57, Bradbury Bruiser (w/o Island & O Trails) + Bradbury Squall. D and I were able to align our schedules to get out for a run together. Her hope was 16, but she just wasn't feeling it. My plan was 8-10 as a first long run test. The result was a great run for me, but not so much for her. I felt smooth and easy for most of the way. I could feel the miles near the end, but that was to be expected. Psychologically, it felt great to feel like a runner again: I used my handheld, popped a couple gels. Good stuff. Hopefully, this feeling will repeat itself on my next long run.

8/9, Tuesday: 5.5 - 47:51, TMR TNR @ Twin Brook. Prior to the run, I got a massage from Julia. It was great to hear that I'm not totally screwed up. More stretching, foam rolling and wrestling with a tennis ball is in the plan. Interestingly, she found a lot of tightness in my hips and glutes, and not the horrible monsters I expected in my calves and hamstrings. Anyway, it was awesome and hugely helpful. Of course, before I left, she made me promise to take it easy on the run. I dutifully obeyed and felt great during the run. Ran the whole time with Jamie, Ian and Jim and was in danger of getting a side stitch from laughing.

8/10, Wednesday: Off, planned

8/11, Thursday: 6.25 - 55:21, Mt. Ararat x12. With the feeling that I've lost all my snowshoeing strength, my hope is to hit Mt. Ararat at least once a week. It's the biggest hill near me, so multiple laps it is. I've devised three separate laps, and I actually really enjoy running them. Clearly, I have issues. While I still feel relatively weak, I actually felt much stronger on this run than a 10-lap outing last week. Like I said, not back, but mobile.

8/12, Friday: 5 - 39:00, Highland Green. I was anxious to see how my legs felt after the Mt. Ararat laps, and while my quads were a bit sore, in general, I felt fine. Easily sub-40:00. A very good sign.

8/13, Saturday, 4.5 - 58:20, 1/2 Bradbury Breaker. After marking the outer loop of the course with Jim, I met up with Mindy and Val who were running the Ultra Xtreeem Bradbury Bad Ass, aka all three courses at once, because they're bad asses. They had already run the 6-mile Scuffle and completed one lap of the Breaker, and I was happy to jump in for the second Breaker lap. Jim joined us for half the lap, and it was fun to catch up with everyone. Pace was very easy...well, not if you're running 27 miles. Great way to wrap up the week.

Totals:
Miles: 38.25
Trail: 29.25
Road: 10

Knock on wood, that's a good start. The plan is to throw in a few tests and a few long runs in the coming weeks. Strength is the focus. Regardless, it feels good to be running again.

Disinterested, Baxter State Park and Percolating Mojo

2011-08-05T21:00:00.002-04:00

With very little to no running going on, there's been very little to nothing to report on. Following my latest calf strain, I took two full weeks off. (Fifteen days actually.) No running. Just a lot of icing and self-messaging. That time off brought the total to 68 off out of the last 122 days. Not a very good percentage.

Thankfully, I was able to resume some light running on July 18, but I wasn't particularly motivated. Strange, as you wold have thought I would be chomping at the bit to get back at it. I wasn't. I was disinterested in running. This feeling had me more worried than ay of my previous injuries. But, the more I thought about it, I realized that I wasn't disinterested in running, I was disinterested in the short, boring, road loops I was somewhat forced into running. I was mentally ready to get back to the real thing but was physically stuck with the 3-mile road circuits of Patriot Commons and the Suck Loop. Blah. Juggling family and work, it can be tricky to get our runs in, and I wasn't interested in putting in the mental energy to figure out the scheduling. As such, I only managed 9 miles that first week back. The second week back was more of the same, although I did up the mileage a bit to a whopping 19.25. And, I can't say I felt particularly frisky on any of those runs.

This past weekend, we took a short vacation to Baxter State Park. The change of scenery was exactly what I needed. While I didn't get out for a super, groovy run on the AT like D, I did get in some fun runs of my own. I knew going in that I would probably run more than I should, but in such a stellar location it's hard not to. I did keep myself in check, by not tackling any major mountain runs, but it certainly was tempting. We stayed in a cabin at Kidney Pond, and after we arrived on Sunday afternoon, I ran the park (all dirt) roads from Kidney to Daicey Pond and back.

I felt surprisingly good, and subconsciously let the pace drop down. Of course, I'd told D that I was only going out for 3 miles, but I don't think she believed me anyway. The pull of running out onto the dock at Daicey Pond before turning around was too much. Monday was a similar story, but this time, I planned a trail run. I explored the Doubletop Mountain and Slaughter Pond Trails.

The first mile on the Doubletop Mountain Trail was very rugged with a tricky stream crossing at the mile mark. From there, the trail became more runnable and really fun. Despite some incorrect/potentially misleading signage on the Slaughter Pond Trail, I reached the shores of Slaughter Pond and a canoe graveyard. Near the shore of the pond, which I learned is just outside the park boundary, were at least 30 canoes strewn about the forest. Nonetheless, the view from and of the pond was beautiful. On the way back, I had to ford a stream that was only about calf deep, so I squished the rest of the way back. And, from the "HUH?!" category, I picked up a pillow with a leopard print case about a half mile from the trailhead. How did that get here? Not knowing the terrain, I told D before I left that I'd be back in under an hour. Fifty-nine minutes and change counts as under an hour. On Tuesday, I wrapped up my runs in the park with an easy four miles on the park roads. My legs were a touch tired following the previous days' efforts, but nothing surprising or worrisome.

Upon returning home, I wasn't sure what to expect on my next run. But, as it turned out, my run on Thursday was the best I've felt in quite a while as I cruised comfortably through the 5-mile Highland Green loop in 38:58. Forty minutes is a good barometer of how my legs are feeling, and this was a great sign. Last week, I felt terrible during a 41:33 tour of this loop, so this was a welcomed improvement. This evening, I did a 5-mile run over Mt. Ararat, summiting the mighty (read: not might at all) peak 10 times. Not a terrible run, but I didn't feel as spry as I would have liked. But, really, I shouldn't be complain. Plan is for another easy 5 miles tomorrow, which will get me to 30 for the week. Again, I'm easing back into things, so I'll take it. Something is bubbling just beneath the surface, so I'm feeling positive. Hopefully, it's not just gas.

My biggest concern right now (well, other than one of my calves exploding again) is my strength. With all that downtime, I feel as if I've lost all the pop in my legs. All that strength built up from snowshoe racing and training this winter is gone. I got nothing, and it's depressing. My plan is to run Mt. Ararat as much as possible to attempt to get it back. Hopefully, I don't have to wait for another snowshoe season.

On a positive note, my weight has stayed the same, which is a bit of a surprise. Well, not really. I've pretty much stop eating. My appetite is gone. That's the one thing that has remained from snowshoe season, so at least I won't have to work to get back that VO2 max advantage I gained, which means even though I feel like I'm starting from scratch, I'm starting from a better place.

Plan for MDI are still the same in that there is no plan. No other race plans, either. I have a long way to go before I set any goals. (If you believe any of those sentences, you've never met me.)

Tales from the DL

2011-07-13T21:55:00.002-04:00

Silence in blog-land is never a good thing, and, in this case, it's no different. Twelve days ago I strained my calf. Not the same calf as mid-June. Nope. This time, it was my left calf, and it was worse than the previous strain. I was out on an early morning run. I felt it tighten. I babied it on an uphill. Then, just after I crested the hill, it popped. I had a miserable mile limp home knowing that I was going back on the DL.

This latest calf strain doesn't come without a confession. Part of the cause is my own stupidity. The day before I did a tempo run. The day before that: 8 miles up and down Mt. Ararat. I wasn't easing into things like I should have following the previous calf strain, so I have only myself to blame.

Why was I being stupid? Simple: pressure. Not a single ounce of external pressure, but all pressure coming from within. The Bradbury Scuffle was coming up, and I wanted to feel ready. I knew I wouldn't be in great shape, but I didn't want to stink up the joint. Beyond that, I knew I was behind in my MDI Marathon training, and I wanted to catch up a bit. (Has that ever worked?) And, finally, I'm anxious to prove (to whom, I have no idea) that my winter wasn't a fluke. From January through March, I had some solid results, and I'd like to continue that trend. I finally felt like I was running like I should be, but I've missed so much time since I broke my ribs that I'm afraid I'll never get back there. Rationally, I know this is insane. Who ever said my chosen pursuits were sane?

That being said, I'm taking a very sane approach to this recovery. Two weeks off. Minimum. My calf has been feeling much better the past couple days, but I know I need to remain patient. I can't have any additional setbacks. Even taking racing out of the equation: I need to get out there. (Although, I'm not missing training in the heat of summer. That's a tiny glimmer of a silver lining.) I'll probably look into a little massage. And, once I do start running again, I'm going to ramp up very slowly. I can admit now that I'm a more fit than my legs are ready to handle. I need to get my legs underneath me. They need to catch up to my cardiovascular system. I'm sure I'll be posting about "worthless" runs, but those short, easy runs will get my legs back in order. And, obviously, the tightness that caused the calf strains isn't just in my calves. Plenty of stretching and foam rolling is in order. (Actually, I'd been foam rolling every day, but still strained my calf. That should tell you something about my stupidity/tightness.) And, before you ask, no, I haven't been cross training. I like to run. I don't like biking. I hate swimming. No yoga. What's this thing you call a push up? Sure, all that may help my overall fitness, but that's not what I'm interested in. I'm only interested in running. That's what I like to do.

Looking ahead...well, I'm trying not to. After all, too much looking ahead is how I got here. MDI is still on the calendar because I'm already registered. We're still planning to go to the island that weekend. Maybe I'll run 26.2 miles that weekend. Maybe I won't. Hopefully, I will, and, hopefully, I'll be able to open it up a touch. Beyond that...I haven't looked at a single race in the fall/early winter. Not a one. ;-).

If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say...

2011-06-27T20:32:00.004-04:00

...then don't blog about it.

When we last left our hero, I was bemoaning my lack of racing due to various accidents and infections. Well, I did indeed get a second round of antibiotics. Unfortunately, like a horror movie villian, the sinus infection just wouldn't die, and I needed a third round of antibiotics to kill it. However, even before I got to round three, I strained a calf muscle on an easy run. That led to another 8 days without any running. Since April 3, that makes a total of only 39 out of 86 days with a run and only two weeks with more that 35 miles total. In short, if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't blog about it. Oh, and I was sick the last three days (one day with an 102° fever), so that just added to the zeros.

All that being said, I'm doing my absolute best to be positive about things. I had no real setbacks and all good races from November through March culminating with a good day at the Gator Trail 50k. (It's obvious I'm recovered from that now!) So, I'm tying to rationalize that three months down was worth it. But, it still sucks. The Bradbury Shuffle...er Scuffle is coming up (Registration now open!), and it will indeed be a shuffle. I won't even be able to spell "race shape" at this point, so I'll be training with a number on. Oh well, larger pieces of meat to skewer and barbecue are coming up in the fall. (Yes, I said, "pieces." Plural. And, I like barbecued meat better than fish, and it's my blog, so I can mix metaphors any way I choose.)

Despite still not feeling 100%, I did get out for a run this evening. Groovy spin on the trails around Mt. A. and one edge of the Cathance Preserve. Might become a regular loop. A pileated woodpecker flew right in front of me along the Heath Trail, giving me a real up close viewing. Of course, this was in my head the entire way...

See, even when I try to run, it sucks.

2 Broken Ribs + 1 Sinus Infection = 3 x DNS

2011-06-03T19:55:00.002-04:00

In short, April and May weren't very good to me. First, the ribs and the pneumothorax, and then just when I was feeling good about my training again, I got hit with a wicked cold which turned into an even worse sinus infection. It all added up to three missed races: Merrimack River 10 Mile, Seven Sisters and, this past weekend, Pineland Farms Trail Challenge. At least one person has made it clear that he's tired of my whining, but aside from my misfortunes, I don't have much else to talk about with regards to my training. I think I'm on the road to recovery, but I only have one more day of antibiotics, and the sinus pressure has yet to dissipate. It appears I may need another round to kill this sucker, but I'm hoping to be able to start running through it. Headed out for an easy 5 miles today, and while my legs felt great, my head was killing me and my breathing was labored. Not ideal.

MDI Marathon training begins in 9 days. I need to get this sorted out. I have big plans for the summer and fall. Luckily, the planning and scheming part of my brain is still fully functional.

Game Time Decision

2011-05-25T21:37:00.003-04:00

Following my fiddy, it was all systems go. It wasn't nearly as tough as I thought to get up to that number. In fact, it was pretty easy. I wanted one more long run before I made my Pineland decision.

So, on a rainy morning, I snuck to The Brad for a real solid 23.5 miles in under 4 hours. Great run. Even better solo run. Route was simple: Scuffle, Breaker and the Bruiser without the Island or O Trails. It's the Not Quite Extreme Bradbury Bad Ass.

I ran the Scuffle very comfortably in an hour even and then got a little excited on the Breaker with a 1:35 split. Probably a touch faster than necessary, but really, why not? I actually ran everything on each lap except the final few strides to the summit. Then once across the street, I thought of turning in on the Link Trail near the end of the Mini-Bruiser, but that would have been lame. Finished the run with a 10:06 average, which I was pretty happy with. I was tired—that will happen after 4 hours of running—but no where close to spent. Great confidence boost. I was ready for the 50k.

Then I got sick. Horrible sore throat to start followed by a 100° fever on Friday. The cold, plague, whatever it was coincided with the height of my allergy troubles. I used a full roll of toilet paper blowing my nose on Monday. And, as I write this, I'm hopped up on all-manner of sinus relief medicine. I'm still pretty clogged up. I have run the last two days—easy, five milers. Legs have felt good, really good actually, but the sinuses are the real issue. With my history with asthma and allergies, I've sadly become pretty in-tune with my airways. I starting using an inhaler when I started running track. So, I'm a game time decision for Sunday. If I feel like my sinuses are clear enough, I'll give it a go. If not, I'm not interested in that death march. I know what it feels like, and I'm not going to put myself through that. More importantly, I don't want to prolong any illness and, therefore, recovery. Can you register for a 50k day of the race and do well? Hopefully, I'll get the chance to find out.

Training 5/8 - 5/14

2011-05-14T13:27:00.002-04:00

Fiddy!

Onto the numbers...

5/8, Sunday: 18 - 2:42:24, Pineland. Kicked the week off right with a great run at Pineland. Goal was 18, but it was really a first test to see which race, if any, I'll be doing Memorial Day Weekend. Ran Oak Hill first, then the larger, lower loop (interrupted by a return to the car to drop a broken and leaking water bottle), then Oak Hill again. Averaged 9:10's or so for the first 13+, then pushed it down to around 8:30's for the final circuit of Oak Hill to simulate how I hope to finish a race. (Something I've never done at Pineland as that final trip around Oak Hill has always been a death march, regardless of distance.) Overall, the run went great, and I had plenty left in the tank by the end. Although, had you asked me how I was doing at 11 or 12, I wouldn't have had anything good to say. Something turned completely around as I was climbing up the Campus Loop to complete the large loop, and I felt terrific the rest of the way. Normally, I'd never chose to run at Pineland as I much prefer the singletrack of Bradbury or the Cathance River trails, but, mentally, it was necessary to attempt to get myself ready...for something...maybe...

5/9, Monday: 5 - 45:04, Homeplace Loop. Easy, recovery jaunt. Legs felt pretty good, but I was hungry and low on energy.

5/10, Tuesday: 8 - 1:09:38, 16x Mt. Ararat. Awesome to get back to my up and down circuits of Mt. Ararat. Even though it's only a bump, I did get about 1000' of vertical total, an average of 130' per mile, and a great strength workout. Legs felt good again, which is an awesome sign. Not sure how many laps I can mentally push this loop to, but it'll be fun to find out as the year goes on.

5/11, Wednesday: Off

5/12, Thursday: 9.25 total, 3.75-mile race, Great Glen Trails Spring Series. Eight-week, annual Spring Series started up, and I was looking forward to a little speed work. Although speed on these trails is hard to come by with a fair bit of climbing and singletrack. (Although, less singletrack than I would like on this year's course.) Pushed hard, but it was evident that I have done zero speed work as my turnover was closer to a danish than anything zippy. Final time was 26:48 (7:14 avg), which was a touch disappointing. Admittedly, my ribs were pretty sore from breathing so heavily. Running easy is one thing, but trying to pull in a ton of oxygen hurts like a mutha. Ran the course as a warm up, and tacked on 2.75 for a cool down.

5/13, Friday: 5 - 39:36, Highland Green. Easy spin through the neighborhood. Legs felt fairly springy, although I could tell the previous day's effort left a little junk in them.

5/14, Saturday: 5 - 43:05, Homeplace Loop. Pretty uneventful run, which is fine, but I felt a bit disinterested. One of those days.

Totals:
Miles: 50.25
Trail: 45.25
Road: 5

Stoked to be able to jump to fiddy miles so comfortably—plus, not a lot of easy miles in that mix. Sort of went after it this week to see how the body would handle it, and I'm pleased with the result. How will this translate to racing? Not sure yet. One final test coming on Monday—long run at The Brad—and then I'll make my decision on Pineland. Really, though, 6 weeks post-rib fractures, I can't complain. I never thought I'd be back to this state so quickly and had written off any racing until the Bradbury Scuffle in July. (Registration now open!) So, I'm pretty stoked to even have this decision to make. Really shows that my training at the beginning of the year was solid.

Training 5/1 - 5/7

2011-05-07T12:51:00.003-04:00

What's this? A post? Better yet, a training post? Yup. You better believe it, suckas!

Just like that—well, slightly fewer dumbbells, but I am slowly getting my act back together. In fact, I could have actually written a post last week, as I did manage to get a "full" week of running. It only totaled 33 miles, but I'll take it just three weeks post-broken ribs. The week was highlighted by a 12-mile run at Bradley Palmer with D. She noted that I was "laboring a bit" near the end, and while I wasn't my usual easy, breezy, beautiful Cover Girl-self, I was pleased at how good I felt after a three-week stretch in which I took 16 straight days off and only ran a total of 9 miles in three very slow runs.

This week was more "real." Admittedly, I'd like to run one of the races at Pineland Farms at the end of the month, and I need to figure out the exact state of my fitness. You know, while attempting to beat myself back into shape. It's a flawless plan.

Onto the numbers...

5/1, Sunday: 5 - 40:52, Weldon Farm Loop. Nice easy recovery run from my parents' house with D. Well, it was supposed to be easy, but D kept dropping the pace trying to break me after the previous day's 12 on the trails. ;-) I was a bit tight but didn't feel all that bad.

5/2, Monday: 7 - 1:04:40, Brunswick Town Commons. The traditional route through the Commons is 5, so we cruised around some familiar and some unfamiliar singletrack. Unfortunately, most trails dead-ended, so no new loops were devised, but we did get to tromp through some mud. Legs felt fine.

5/3, Tuesday: 5.5 - 44:25, TMR TNR at Twin Brook. WOOT! Schedule worked out nicely for a rare TNR appearance for me, and it seems like each time I show up the group is bigger than the last time. Good stuff. Ran with Ian, Tom, Blaine, Red Meat and Jeff for most of the run, and the latter two certainly didn't take it easy on the pace in general or the guy with broken ribs during the sprint lines. Plus, I always forget about those damn things. "Where are you going!?!?!?" That being said, it was great to catch up with the group, and good to get muddy with them all. Pace was snappy, and my legs handled it nicely. Great run.

5/4, Wednesday: 7.5 - 1:19:04, Black Cap via Kettle Ridge Trail and Red Tail Trail w/ Kevin Tilton. More fortuitous scheduling found me in North Conway in the afternoon, and I made plans to meet Kevin for a run up Black Cap. It was raining steadily when I met Kevin at his office, and we were both a touch disappointed the other wasn't going to bail. One could question the wisdom of meeting up with a guy whose license plate reads "MTN GOAT" to run up a mountain under any circumstances, much less with broken ribs, but I figured he was too nice a guy to leave me dead on the side of the hill. Plus, I told him D knew where we were going and would hunt him down...or at least, I think she would. In any event, this was a really great run. I trailed Kevin the entire way, and we chatted about...what else?...running. The Kettle Ridge Trail was very runnable for the trip up, and we made it to the summit in 46:10, which wasn't too far off Kevin's easy pace. Of course, just as I asked him how we were doing on time, hoping I wasn't dragging him down, the trail pitched upward for the final push to the summit. I stopped chatting at this point, since we were now off my easy pace—in the opposite direction. I could definitely feel my ribs as I sucked wind the final few yards to the summit, and Kevin was nice enough to not laugh at me. Of course, he had promised me a view, and we were standing in a rain cloud. The trip down was just as sweet as the trip up, with the Red Tail Trail being equally runnable. My legs felt pretty good the whole way, even with the 1700' of gain and loss. Hopefully, we can meet up again, as I'd really like to get more mountain running mixed into my training.

5/5, Thursday: Off (planned).

5/6, Friday: 11 - 1:20:26, River + Meadow Cross Roads. 8 miles @ MP (7:08 avg.). Why are my quads sore today? From the finding out where I am category, this run was a bit of a test, and I'm pretty pleased with the result. The first three miles were easy (7:48 avg.) with the final 8 at marathon pace, which I guesstimated would be about 7:20. That's probably close to true marathon pace right now, so this run was more of a half marathon/20-mile pace run. But, the only time the pace felt tough was into the wind, which was strong in a few sections. And, really, it was nice to just open it up a bit. My core was a bit tired by the end, so the affects of the broken ribs were evident. That's not surprising, though. In short, I'll take it.

5/7, Saturday: 4.75 - 42:05, Homeplace. Easy recovery run. Quads still sore because Kevin is jerk and not from the previous day's run at all. Otherwise, pretty comfortable stroll along the trails and saw a ton of birds I couldn't identify.

Totals:
Miles: 40.75
Trail: 24.75
Road: 16

It's now been a full 5 weeks since the broken ribs, and I'm pretty happy to be putting in this type of training. More importantly, aside from the sore quads from Black Cap and the normal hamstring tightness I get with any mileage ramp up, I feel pretty solid. I can feel my ribs whenever I need to really pull in a big breath, but that's pretty much it. Getting in and out of bed still causes the most discomfort. Plan is to step it up again next week to continue to test things out. Going to be smart, but going to keep pushing.

No firm plans for racing, yet, however, and this timely quote on Anton Krupicka's blog sums up exactly how I feel right now:

"With regards to racing, all bets are off until I am once again healthy and confident in my fitness. I don't line up for an ultramarathon unless I feel I can do the event and the competition justice by delivering a meaningful best effort. So, you won't see me at a starting line unless I'm confident in my ability to do that; if you do see me on a starting line, you can be sure that I feel ready to rip."

I'll let you know when I'm ready to rip.

Race Recovery vs. Real Recovery

2011-04-14T21:13:00.002-04:00

Following the Gator Trail 50k, I was a bit more sore than I would have liked. My quads were pretty trashed on Sunday, and when D and I forced ourselves to run on Monday...well, that 3-mile run was more painful than the race. My legs felt detached from the rest of my body. Thankfully, by Tuesday, I had a bit more spring in the step, even though I could still feel the quads. No other complaints in terms of soreness or tightness, so I really can't complain. A full week later, I'd say I was back to normal.

Recovery was going well, and I was starting to solidify my upcoming race plans. First up would be a true test of recovery with the Merrimack River Trail Race on April 9—a good 10-mile effort to see exactly where I was. From there, I had made plans for 7 Sisters on May 1, a good long run on May 8 (4 hours), and then my 50 mile debut at Pineland Farms on May 29. I was excited with this plan and was really excited to run my first 50. I had been secretly hoping/planning for Pineland for a couple months and had had it in the back of my mind throughout all my Gator Trail training. Mentally, I knew I was ready for 50 miles, and I believed I was physically. It was time.

On Sunday morning, April 3, I did an easy 5 miles and had to hold myself back from going to far or too fast. I was ready to open it up, and waiting until The Rivah felt like it was going to be tough. Then, that evening, everything changed.

Long story, short: I broke two ribs and punctured my lung. We were visiting friends, and I was playing with their three-year-old. We were goofing around, I picked him up and slipped on the hardwood floor. I landed hard on the right side of my back. (He landed on his head. He's fine.) I didn't immediately go to the hospital, but later that evening, when I couldn't get into bed, I knew that something was seriously wrong. In the ensuing 10 days, I've have 5 chest x-rays, 4 consultations with doctors and a couple dozens Percocets. None of that was in the plan.

I'm getting better with each passing day, but I can't run. In fact, today was the first day I could walk upright. The good news is that my lung is nearly healed, and I won't have any permanent damage. My ribs still need another 2 to 4 weeks to heal. I have no idea when I'll be able to run, much less resume training. Right now, it seems very far away.

Gator Trail 50k - Race Report

2011-03-27T13:31:00.014-04:00

Eighteen weeks of training later, the Gator Trail 50k finally happened. It felt like it would never come. Great synergy to this race as during the first week of the training cycle, D and I had the chance to scope out the trails at Lake Waccamaw State Park. That run was during a Thanksgiving visit to her parents, and, now, in March, it was time to cash in on those eighteen weeks. I withdrew them in full running a better race than I believed I could. Ever since I researched this race, my "A" goal, which I believe I only said aloud to two people, was to win it. Looking at past results, I knew that I needed to get close to 4 hours, 7:45 per mile, to have a shot. I knew this was a lofty goal, and maybe even a bit unrealistic. But, that's what I pointed my training towards, and, in reality, I never really came up with a "B" or "C" goal.

After a relatively uneventful travel day (even with an energetic 18-month-old) to North Carolina on Wednesday and two subsequent days spent relaxing, D and I were up in the dark and driving southwest to the race. The sun had risen, just barely, when we arrived at the park, but the sky was cloud covered, which was a pleasant sight for the northerners. Another pleasant sight was the reading on the thermometer: 48°. My biggest fear for this race was temperatures rising into the 80's, but we lucked out with the weather as the skies remained cloudy throughout and the mercury never rose above 60°. Perfect racing conditions, and I joked that I wouldn't be able to use the weather as an excuse.

Southern hospitality was in full effect as we chatted with the race director, Grant, before the race at this small, Fat Ass-style event: low-key, no frills and welcoming smiles all around. The 50-kilometer course consisted of 5, 10-kilometer laps, which included a 1.2-mile out-and-back section about halfway through. In a unique twist, during each lap at the end of the out-and-back, each runner would take a sticker from their number and place it on the board to ensure no one skipped this section. Grant went through this procedure and other pre-race instructions as the group of thirty-or-so runners milled around the start area. Then, almost without warning, Grant said, "Well, OK. Ready, set, go." We were off.

Lap 1
At the sort-of command, I found myself at the front of the race only a few strides in. D yelled up to me, "I hope you know where you're going," which got a chuckle out of myself and everyone else. I expected a few others to come up and run alongside, but I clicked through the first mile alone in 7:57 and turned to see second and third place 10 and 15 seconds back, respectively. It was at this point that I resolved myself to running the race alone and at my pace. 7:45 was the target pace, and that's what I got the reading on my Garmin down to over the next few miles.

At the end of the out-and-back, which was almost exactly 5k, it only took a second or so to tack my sticker to the board. Pre-race, I was a bit worried this process would be cumbersome and slow, but it was quick and easy. The out-and-back was great because I had the opportunity to see everyone behind me. I determined that I had about 1:30 on second place with 3rd, 4th and 5th not that far behind him. Plenty of motivation for me. The section of trail following the out-and-back was right along Lake Waccamaw and really nice singletrack—narrow, twisty goodness. This was my favorite part of the loop, and I was really enjoying the first few miles.
Coming into the race, I wasn't certain how my target pace was going to feel, and I was very please at how easy the first few miles went by. I finished the first lap in 47:41 (7:41 per mile) feeling very relaxed and comfortable, although my Garmin was reading a bit short due to the twists of the trail.

Lap 2
Unfortunately, "I Will Survive" was blaring from the speakers as I picked up my lap-two sticker at the start/finish line, and I was stuck with one of my least favorite songs of all time in my head for the next couple miles. The beginning of the each loop wound through pine forest with the trail alternating between firm and sandy sections. The sand wasn't deep, but it was soft enough to slow you down. On each lap, I did my best to avoid the soft portions by running alongside the established trail. The footing was rougher, but firmer, so I considered it a good trade off. The other "interesting" feature at the start of each lap was the lingering effects of the controlled burns recently held by the park staff. For the first two miles of each lap, the ground was black on either side of the trail and still smoking in a few locations. The smell of smoke was evident but never bothered me or hampered my breathing. However, it was still a bit unsettling to see the blackened, smoldering earth all around you.

Shortly into this lap, I came upon two runners heading in the opposite direction. I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but I had to tell them that they were headed in the wrong direction. I did hesitate for a moment thinking I may have had gone wrong, but from our recon trip in November, I was certain I was going the correct way. Since part of trail racing is finding your way, I kept going, but it was a good reminder that I needed to remain focused.

At around 9 miles, I did a double-take at my Garmin because I could hardly believe I'd already run 9 miles. I felt like I'd barely run a step and knew it was going to be a good day. In fact, I thought to myself, "I refuse to have a bad day." On the out-and-back, I once again had the chance to check in on the competition, and I estimated my lead had stretched to four minutes. My second lap split was 1:34:20 for a 46:40 lap (7:31 per mile), and the miles were still coming very easily.

Lap 3
With the Garmin coming up a bit short, I knew that I had run a more than it was reading and that my average pace was also a touch faster. Throughout the second lap, I'd kept the "Average Pace" reading at a steady 7:45 and hoped to do the same through the third lap. The tough, tough music choices continued as I was serenaded with "La Bamba" from the sound system as I started the third lap, ready to have things start feeling a bit like work. Around 14 miles, I made the transition from running easily to feeling it a bit. This was a big shift mentally. I knew going into the race that it was going to hurt. There was no way to avoid it. I was prepared for it. The only questions now were how much was it going to hurt and how long could I keep pushing this pace? However, as this lap progressed I was feeling worse but actually getting faster as my average pace dipped to 7:44...on the Garmin at least.

The out-and-back was another confidence booster as my lead had stretched to eight minutes, and second place was the only other racer I saw in this section aside from runners I was lapping. One runner joked: "If you keep this up, we won't invite you back." So much for Southern hospitality. When I picked up my sticker to close out lap #3, I checked the clock, which read 2:20:47. That lap would turn out to be my fastest of the day: 46:27 (7:29 per mile). I knew that if I could run two 50-minute laps and be right at 4 hours. Honestly, I had my doubts. From looking at past results, I knew that despite being a flat course, most people had the tendency to slow down quite a bit in the final laps/miles. Obviously, I didn't want to suffer the same fate, turning the race into a death march, and I was concerned I'd overcooked that third lap.

Lap 4
Heading out to "Anyway You Want It," one of the great volunteers yelled, "Have fun!" I replied, "Hard not to on a day like this! Thanks for ordering up this great weather for the guy from Maine!" And, in truth, I was having fun. It was work, but it was still fun. The trails were very pretty, and I appreciated them more and more. From the pile of ping pong balls...errr, turtle eggs, to the cactus, to the mangrove trees, I was running in a place unfamiliar to me and really enjoying it. The trails were fun, twisty and just plain great for running. That being said, I needed to go to work. The sand seemed deeper and softer, and I could no longer find the best lines. I maintained my pace through the first half of the fourth lap, but the second half was a struggle. The average pace on my Garmin kept creeping up...7:45...7:46...7:47...7:48...

I began to worry about second place thinking that if he had taken it easy the first few laps, he could really be making up some ground on me. I was relieved when I finished the out-and-back without seeing him, but I did catch a glimpse of his neon green shirt through the trees and guessed I was now up by nearly 11 minutes. Even though that was more than a mile lead, a lot can happen in an ultra, and I felt confident I could win it but didn't take it for granted. Plus, with my Garmin telling me what I already knew—that I was slowing down—I was no longer really enjoying the day. In fact, at one point near the end of the fourth lap I said out loud, "This sucks." In the closing miles of this lap, I wanted to be done. I had no idea how I was going to not only maintain my pace or even complete another lap. It seemed an insurmountable task. Indeed, the fourth lap was slower: 48:01 (7:44 per mile).

Lap 5
The clock read 3:08:48. "This one is going to hurt," was all I could say to the volunteer crew as I started lap #5 as "I Just Called to Say I Love You" played in the background. And, hurt it did. I forced myself to take one final gel as I started the lap. I'd been drinking HEED since the start but opted for Gatorade for the final circuit. My stomach had had enough of the HEED/Hammer Gel/Clif Shot Blok mixture I'd been downing for the first four laps but was thankfully still reasonably settled. The final lap was basically a blur. Throughout the rest of the race, I'd been exchanging words of encouragement with every runner I saw, and I felt badly that I could barely communicate now. The average pace on my Garmin was reading 7:49 and stayed right there for the entire final lap. I was too exhausted to do the math to determine my actual pace or how far I had to go. All I knew was that I was running a bit faster than it was reading and had actually run a bit farther. But, I also knew that 7:49 was not sub-4-hour pace, so I kept trying to get that number lower. I just hoped that I had a 52-minute lap in me. I wasn't so sure. I really labored the first half of the fifth lap, and the out-and-back felt like it went on forever. However, like the rest of the laps, it was about a 10-minute round trip on the out-and-back. So, I was still moving, but it just hurt a lot more now. Thankfully, second place never appeared, so I was feeling better about taking it home. I actually dropped my handheld on this lap at the beginning of the out-and-back to run hands free for a stretch, which was a good mental boost. Picking it back up was a different story as my legs were not pleased with the change in motion. I'd been fighting off cramps since about mile 25, and I nearly fell over picking up the bottle.

As I ran along the lake, I crossed the first of two boardwalks and took note of the sign that read "Visitors Center - 2 Miles." I never really figured out if this was correct, but I assume it was a touch longer because we didn't run directly back to the Visitors Center. My watch read 3:43 and change at this point, and I knew I had a shot at breaking 4 hours. But, I also knew I had to hammer it. It was going to be close. I was in full-on grunt, froth and drool mode, and as I hit the long boardwalk that marked the very end of the lap I was even cursing at myself to keep moving. It wasn't until I hit this point that I was confident that I had the race won. With a quarter mile to go, I dropped my handheld and pushed my final loop around the parking lot. I crossed the line in 3:56:29, which, in all honesty, feels strange to type. My final lap was 47:42 (7:41 per mile).

My Garmin gave me a distance of 30.26 miles, and with that time, the average per mile was, indeed, 7:49. For the full 31 miles, my average pace was 7:37, which also feels strange to type. I really thought 7:45 was a stretch, so I'm thrilled with the time. In the end, it wasn't so much about winning, but breaking four hours. If ten guys had finished in front of me, I'd be just as happy. Well, OK, I'm pretty stoked to get the win.

D's parents arrived just as I was finishing, so they got to see me hobble painfully as my legs seized up the moment I crossed the line. The cramps I'd been so worried about hit me as soon as I stopped running. Everything hurts less when you're happy with your race, so I was able to laugh, at least a little, through my grimacing. Eventually, I was able to walk somewhat normally, give Sam a hug and change.

Not long after, D came off the boardwalk and onto the road to finish her race. I was elated to see she had a huge smile on her face as she ran past her Dad holding Sam and then past me. The only thing that was missing was an Ironman-esque announcer saying: "YOU'RE an ULTRARUNNER!" I was thrilled she finished her first 50k, and in impressive fashion: 4:47:10, second woman. I'm really proud of her ability to pull it all together as a mother, wife and athlete.

RESULTS

All in all, it was a great day on the trails. For the win, I got a custom picture frame with an alligator on it. (The race director will send us our photos later.) Really nice touch. Just one of many that made this a really fun event. I love the feel of small races. The course, while flat, was not boring nor really easy. It has enough twists and turns to keep you on your toes and plenty of roots to make the singletrack challenging. The sand I could certainly live without, but the trails are beautiful. I really didn't mind running 5 laps, and I hope I have the opportunity to run at Lake Waccamaw again sometime.

One random fun fact: I don't know my exact time because of the short readings on my Garmin, but en route I PRed in the marathon by around 20 minutes. I guess I'm in a wee bit better shape than when I ran my one and only road marathon in 2008.

Thanks to D's parents who not only took care of Sam on race day, but also hosted us this week and put up with all my (our) pre-race neurosis and post-race hobbling. We could not have done this without them. A good support crew is key. THANKS!

So, what's next? Walking normally is the first goal.

Daddo, you stink!

My cool down.

Kick Ass!

Training 3/13 - 3/19

2011-03-20T19:46:00.003-04:00

Taper madness.

Onto the numbers...

3/13, Sunday: 9.5 total. Granite State Snowshoe Championship.

3/14, Monday: 3 - 23:53, Patriot Commons. Legs felt good. Took it very easy. This loop is boring.

3/15, Tuesday: Off

3/16, Wednesday: 8 - 1:08:13, Highland Green dirt roads. As the seasons transition, it's tricky to find trail runs that aren't fraught with ankle-wrenching postholes, which at this point in my training, I'd really like to avoid. However, the plowed dirt roads/construction roads around Highland Green are in great shape, so I just ran up and back on them until I got 8 miles. Throw in the wind, rain and generally foul weather, this run was all about head down, get the miles in and call it a day. Mission accomplished.

3/17, Thursday: Off

3/18, Friday: 5.25 - 41:00, Highland Green +. Now that I'm intimately acquainted with all the dirt roads in Highland Green, I added a piece on these roads to the normal loop. Nice addition that alleviates the need for an unnecessary road piece at the beginning. This will become the regular loop. Run felt great, and I was holding myself back. Itching to go. Of note: snowshoe season is over, so I am allowed to run in shorts, and this was the first run of the year in shorts! Pasty.

3/19, Saturday: 5 - 41:36, Highland Green. Same loop. Totally different conditions. About an inch of wet snow had and was falling. Windy, too. So, instead of shorts, it was tights and a rain shell. Preferred Friday's weather.

Totals: 30.75
Trail: 14.25
Road: 16.5

Tapering is no fun at all. Necessary evil, but I feel really off on all my runs—snappy, but strange. I'm not sleeping well either...well, it's impossible to fall asleep. "Hello, ceiling." The good news: only a week to go. I'm obsessively looking at the long-range forecasts for Lake Waccamaw, NC. We fly on Wednesday. Biggest challenge of the trip: Gator Trail 50k or flying with the kiddo? Push.

Granite State Snowshoe Championships - Race Report

2011-03-17T20:02:00.017-04:00

The 2011 snowshoe season is in the books, and I wrapped it up with the Granite State Snowshoe Championships at hosted by acidotic RACING at Great Glen Trails. This race would be my fifth race of the season, qualifying me for a ranking in the Northeast Snowshoe Federation Cup standings. More importantly, it would also be the fifth race that Trail Monster Running fielded a full team, and we had a shot to first third amongst some very stiff competition.

A number of things were different for me in 2011 vs. 2010. First off, I kept my car on the road, but, the biggest difference were my performances thus far. I've been running well in 2011 and felt some pressure to keep it up. Admittedly, I had some pre-race jitters and found myself missing the race directing portion of racing. With only my race to focus on, I didn't really know what to do with myself. This was also one of those races at which you look around and everyone looks fast. All the usual suspects rolled in from acidotic, Tuesday Night Turtles and my Trail Monster Running teammates, and I knew it was going to be a tough task to meet my pre-race goal: a top ten finish. I think my nerves were obvious as I couldn't wait for anyone else to do a warm-up with and headed out on the roads solo. I met up with Scott Mason, who was planning to be behind the camera, on the way back, and we chatted for a bit. Then, I jumped in for a short stint with my teammates, giving me a solid two-mile warm-up. Back inside to change, then off to the start line.

Race start. Joe Viger Photo.

I lined up on the far left of the front row, which kept me out of the fray and spray (of snow) at the start. The conditions were strange. The first half of the 10-kilometer course is on the groomed Nordic trails, and despite looking firm, they were anything but. The temps were fairly warm, so you'd sink a bit with each step. So much for a fast first half. I settled into a comfortable pace that put me in seventh place, directly behind TNT's Dave Principie.

A quarter mile in. Great Glen Trails photo.

Dave slowly and steadily pulled away from me, and by 1.5 miles, he had a big gap. I was really questioning whether or not I was running too comfortably, but with a 7:26 first mile and knowing the climb that lay ahead, I didn't want to overcook it. I could hear footfalls behind me the entire time, but forced myself not to look back. Then, at about 2 miles, aR's Ryan Welts went by me on a downhill. I stayed right with him, and we exchanged places and conversation for the next mile. He let me know, what I already knew, that Captain Snowshoe himself, Chris Dunn, was right behind us, and that he wasn't really enjoying the groomed trails. Admittedly, neither was I. I wasn't anxious to get to the good stuff.

5k down. 5k up. Joe Viger Photo.

I passed through the start line/3 mile mark in 24:09 and began to mentally prepare myself for the climb ahead: 350' in the next 1.25 miles. I was expecting the soft, slushy-ish conditions to carry over from the groomed trails to the singletrack. Instead, the singletrack was fairly firm. However, it wasn't stable. The treadway was quite uneven, and with each step, you would posthole...or you wouldn't. You never knew what was going to happen from one step to the next.

Starting the climb. Scott Mason photo.

More climbing. Great Glen Trails photo.

Still climbing. Great Glen Trails photo.

Since I knew the trail from running it at least a dozen times this winter, I wanted to push the uphill, and I led the Ryan-train throughout the entire climb. I'd hear Ryan right behind me, then it would get quiet, then I'd hear him again...rinse and repeat. We kept getting glimpses of Dave up ahead, and it became clear that we were gaining on him. At the very top of the climb, Ryan asked to go around, and I obliged. He had clearly been holding back a bit, as a gap quickly opened up between us as we ran along the "flat" section at that led to the high point of the course and eventual left hand turn signifying the almost one-mile-long downhill. I consider myself a strong descender, so I hoped that I could close that gap.

As I made that left hand turn, I took a peek back and didn't see Chris or anyone else, which really helped sharpen my focus on the two ahead of me. However, in the process of looking back, I nearly went down not looking at the singletrack as I postholed unexpectedly. Unexpected posthole would be the theme for the next mile. The tricky conditions on the uphill were multiplied tenfold on the descent. It was extremely hard to stay in rhythm or get any momentum going. This section of course is a fire road, so it's wide open and fairly straight. I could see Ryan and Dave almost the entire time, only losing sight on them briefly on a few corners. I'd see Dave posthole, think I'd have a chance to catch up, and then I'd posthole. I'd see Ryan posthole, think I'd have a chance to catch up, and then I'd posthole. Over and over again. It was both frustrating and worrisome. I didn't want to wrench an ankle or a knee, so I focused on staying upright more than trying to catch those guys.

The downhill ends just after the 5-mile mark, then the course turns left onto the last piece of singletrack. I looked back when I reached that corner. I couldn't see anyone behind me, and Ryan and Dave had essentially left me behind. This section starts with an uphill that would be tough even without a mile-long downhill preceding it. I was talking to myself up this hill, knowing that I really needed to work if I had any hope of seeing Ryan and Dave again or staying ahead of the strong field chasing. I think I scared a couple who were just out for a leisurely snowshoe in the tranquil forest. I started seeing glimpses of Dave through the pines, and I knew that not only Ryan had passed but I was also gaining on him. Once I hit the powerlines, I had Dave in my sights, and I could tell that I was running the uphills faster than he was. Of course, the uphill that starts with a half mile to go is the toughest climb of the entire race, so neither of us were really flying at this point (read: shuffling). I pushed this hill as hard as I could and pulled up directly behind Dave at the very top. I could barely see straight, and really wasn't able to ask Dave if I could get around. As we turned right past the Honeymoon Cottage, he was able to put a few feet between us, and extended his lead through the insane final quarter mile. It may have been the equivalent of just one lap around a track, but it was anything but flat. The downs were...well...sketchy, and it was all I could do to stay upright and alive. It was also through this section that I was aware that someone was gaining on us. I had no idea who this someone was, and I wasn't sure if it was even human from the noises it was making. Wounded water buffalo in heat? I've been known to grunt and froth in a race, but this was closer to demonic possession.

Trying to stay alive. Gianna Lindsey photo.

Final uphill. Scott Mason photo.

In the end, Dave was able to better navigate the final section to finish a comfortable 10 seconds ahead of me. I crossed the line in 8th in 57:09. Ryan had put more than a minute on me in the final miles. The bellowing didn't cease until fellow Trail Monster, Jeff Walker, crossed the line just behind me. It's a good thing this was the last race of the season because Jeff really has figured this snowshoe racing thing out, and I was lucky to be the top Trail Monster.

Obligatory painful finish photo. Joe Viger Photo.

RESULTS
Scott Mason's Photos
Joe Viger's Photos
Gianna Lindsey's Photos
Great Glen Trails' Photos

I have many reasons to be thrilled about this race, but I'm not. I achieved my goal of a top ten finish, but I didn't really race. When Ryan went by me at the top of the climb, I let him go. I didn't race. When I caught up to Dave, I never made a real push to get by him. I didn't race. I just didn't have the same fire that I had at the Bradbury Blizzard. I was fairly complacent, which is disappointing. I'm really just nitpicking here (and possibly whining a bit), but I feel like I left something out on the course. I was a very good effort, but not a great race.

That being said, I'm proud of where I've come in the past year. Because I'm a nerd, I compared the 2010 and 2011 results. I wanted to see just how much slower the course was this year. (It's not a perfect comparison because the first 5k on the groomed Nordic trails were slightly different [and possibly a bit easier] and the finish was different [tougher and longer], but we all ran the same courses in the same conditions.) Nineteen people raced both years, and on average, times were 10% slower. Only one person of those nineteen was faster in 2011: me. I think that says a lot, but again, I'm not entirely satisfied. I know I could have raced harder, and I know I'll remember this lesson at the Gator Trail 50k and beyond.

As far as the Northeast Snowshoe Federation Cup, Trail Monster Running finished third overall in what was really our rookie year of racing. Club-wide, I think we'd only ever run 5 snowshoes races combined—four of them my four races last winter. It was exciting for me to see everyone really get into it. Individually, I finished 22nd overall, only 2.5 points out of 15th. Needless to say, the Northeast has a very competitive snowshoe field.

Looking ahead, it's taper time. The real test is on March 26 on the shores of Lake Waccamaw, North Carolina!

Training 3/6 - 3/12

2011-03-14T20:28:00.002-04:00

First official quasi-taper week. Only quasi because it was more of a step down week than a full taper. The real taper madness begins next week. One item that I glazed over in last week's recap was the shin/ankle pain from the previous week. Well, it left as quickly as it came. Unofficial diagnosis was tightness in my anterior tibialis. Ice, heat and The Stick did the trick. Or, I raced it out at the Bradbury Blizzard. Runners actually believe they can do that.

Onto the numbers...

3/6, Sunday: Off

3/7, Monday: 5 - 40:42, Patriot Commons + Route 201. Just a random road run from home in the rain and wind. Fairly gross out. Legs felt fine, but it certainly wasn't one of those runs that you enjoy.

3/8, Tuesday: 8 - 58:07, Meadow Cross Road. Plan was to run the first 2 miles easy, then the last 6 at marathon pace. I felt great, and marathon pace turned into a 7:02 average. That's certainly quicker than my marathon pace right now, but it felt very comfortable so I rolled with it. After the previous day's rain, I did get to run through 200 yards of ankle deep nearly freezing water at the 3-mile mark. The elderly folks in the church van headed in the other direction gave me some interesting looks. I laughed as a ran through their wake.

3/9, Wednesday: 7 - 1:08:23, Topsham Snowmobile Trails, Dump Loop w/ D. D was doing a recovery run after her long run the previous day, so we kept the pace very easy. Nice morning on the trails.

3/10, Thursday: 14 - 2:12:41, Topsham Snowmobile Trails, Dump Loop, Murder Road and Other Random Trails. Wandered on the Topsham snowmobile trails to get to 14. Explored some new trails, one that may be a good summer addition. Some light snow started falling in the last few miles, but it didn't really affect the trail conditions, which were a tad soft. I did try to check out a couple more snowmobile trails, but turned back on each after postholing a couple times after only a few yards. I wasn't in the mood for bloody shins.

3/11, Friday: 3.75 - 31:56, Highland Green Construction Road. Rainy, windy and gross. I did get to run on a muddy road, though—only redeeming quality of this run. Just a bad day to be outside.

3/12, Saturday: 3.25 - 27:26, Patriot Commons. Considered taking the day off, but I subscribe to the theory that you should always do an easy run the day before a race, and with the Granite State Snowshoe Championship on tap for Sunday, I squeezed in a couple miles. Plenty of snow-eating fog to go around. Very uneventful.

Totals:
Miles: 41
Trail: 21
Road: 20

All in all, a pretty uneventful week, but that was just what I was going for. I guess that a mellow, successful training week doesn't make for a very good blog post.

Training 2/27 - 3/5

2011-03-09T19:32:00.002-05:00

Nothing came easy this week, either mentally or physically. Between the general fatigue of training, a big effort at the Bradbury Blizzard, my schedule, some sinus issues, life in general and even the weather—everything seemed to be conspiring against me. However, it was still a solid week of training. I didn't quite get the mileage I was hoping for, but that was me erring on the side of recovery post-Blizzard. When I laid out my training plan, I knew that this would the last of three hard weeks before my taper, so I didn't expect it to be easy.

Onto the numbers...

2/27, Sunday: 7 total, Bradbury Blizzard

2/28, Monday: 4.75 - 42:14, Mt. Ararat H.S. + Patriot Commons x2. Forced myself to get out in the wet snow and wind. There was already a good coating of icy snow on the roads, which actually made perfect screw shoe conditions. That was the only thing that was perfect. I just kept my head down and got the miles in. Not a great way to go through a recovery run, but my legs actually felt pretty decent.

3/1, Tuesday: 3.75 total, 3k snowshoe "race." Final week of Nordic Meisters, and I was just going through the motions. With a whole boatload of new snow under a crusty layer, the unbroken trail wasn't particularly appealing for an easy effort. Instead of my usual Aqueduct Loop warm up, I ran the course, then ran the course again for the timed effort. It was much more mental output than I wanted, so I bailed on any kind of cool down.

3/2, Wednesday: Off

3/4, Thursday: 7 - 1:03:49, Topsham Snowmobile Trails - Dump Loop. Very windy. Could have done without that. Add in the fact that the trails hadn't seen much snowmobile traffic after some new snow and rain, and it was more effort than I was hoping for. My sinuses were bugging me, so that just added to my grumpiness. Legs felt good, though. That's the most important thing.

3/5, Friday: 22 - 2:54:21, Highland Road + Simpson's Point. Awesome run. Based on how I'd felt the rest of the week, I was pretty nervous as to how this run would go, and with this being the final long run before Gator Trail, I really wanted to have a good one. It certainly didn't hurt to have sunny skies and not much wind. My hope was to run 8:10-8:15/mile, and I easily and comfortably went under that with a 7:55 average. I was very tempted to push this run to a full marathon because I could have easily PRed. But, that wasn't the goal for the day, so I stuck to the plan. Wiser to leave something in the tank, and a good confidence builder.

3/6, Saturday: 5 - 45:32, Highland Green (Out & Back). Very easy recovery run, but more snow, rain and wind. I was a bit sore and tired, but that was what I expected.

Totals
Miles: 49.5
Trail: 17.75
Road: 31.75

I had hoped to get to 55 miles for the week, but with my mental state the first couple days, it wasn't in the cards. My effort at the Bradbury Blizzard, frankly, took more out of me mentally than I had anticipated. However, I know that the mental aspect is a critical portion of the training—very good lessons learned from that race. Even without the number I'd wanted, it's still a good week, and I've come out of it feeling good, which is far more important than being a slave to the numbers. It's very tempting to "use" my current fitness right now, for example PR in the marathon during a training run, but I have to be smart and stay focused. Three weeks to go until Gator Trail.

Bradbury Blizzard Race Report

2011-03-02T13:30:00.000-05:00

The final race of the Bradbury Mountain Snowshoe Series and another double duty race day for me. With 750' of climbing over 5.25 miles, the Bradbury Blizzard was definitely the hardest race course of the series, and it was covered in fresh snow making it that much tougher. What made it even tougher was a tactical mistake/accident on my part and this race for me was anything but a time trial like the Bradbury White Out. This was a race, and I raced like I don't think I ever have.

Once again, I was at Bradbury Mountain State Park early to get the course marked, and Ian was, once again, there to help me out...with everything. We split up to tackle the course, and I headed up the Switchback Trail. On Saturday morning, I was the first to hit the trail and find where I wanted to send the race course. By Sunday morning, the park had seen a lot more traffic, as I expected, and the entire side of the mountain was crisscrossed with snowshoe and ski tracks. My usual paranoia about each and every flag was in full effect, but in the end, the course markings worked out great. When I finished marking the Switchback Trail (about 6 hours later), I headed out on the Tote Road to throw down a few more flags and make sure the trail was in good shape. Unfortunately, it was in a little too good of a shape, as the park had run a snowmobile up and down the trail a couple times to "groom" it. I'd been hoping for more singletrack, but based on the reactions of those that ran the race, maybe it's a good thing the course wasn't any harder. And, in truth, even the snowmobile packed trail wasn't that well packed, so the running was still tough.

Our biggest field of the series assembled at the start line, including Chris Dunn, Geoff Cunningham and Judson Cake from acidotic RACING; Peter Keeney from Crow Athletics and a stout group of fellow Trail Monsters. I knew this was going to be a tough race. Aside from my course marking more than two-hours prior, my only warm up was a little jogging and strides just before the start. Not exactly ideal for a race that climbs 220' in the first half mile. I had decided to go with my (now) usual plan (antics?) of going out hard knowing that even if I was thrashed after the first climb, I'd have a long, gradual downhill to recover on the other side. My rationale being that I could, hopefully, run away from my competitors as I'd done at the White Out.

Bradbury Blizzard start. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

As the race started, I was out front with Geoff and Judson right next to me as we reached the bottleneck to begin climbing the singletrack, I was in the lead. Well, I'd planned to go out hard, but not quite this hard. Geoff and Judson had both race at the Northest Snowshoe Federation Championships the previous day, so neither were exactly fresh, but there's no logical reason I should be ahead of them. Judson had beaten me by more than 3:30 at each of the first two Bradbury Snowshoe races, and I've never been within sniffing distance of Geoff on any surface. Of course, about halfway up the Switchback I had delusions that they were really trashed from Saturday's race, and I'd be able to stay out front. Then, about two-thirds of the way up the Switchback, I realized I was in way over my head. I could feel Geoff right behind me, and thought about pulling over. He didn't ask, so I just kept pushing. Maybe I should have tracked out a couple passing lanes. Once we reached the top of the climb, Geoff asked to pass, without sounding out of breath. Never liked that guy. He and Judson cruised on by down the Tote Road, and I realized that I couldn't see anyone else behind us.

I kept Geoff and Judson in sight for as long as possible, but after I couple minutes I was alone. It was starting to look like the White Out time trial all over again. That being said, I wasn't comfortable. It took me a full half mile after the climb to feel normal again. Snowshoeing up the Switchback Trail is hard.

As I turned right onto the Northern Loop Trail to begin the second climb to the summit, I looked back...still alone. Then, my spidey sense started tingling, I must have looked back another 6 times in the next quarter mile, and a few yards before I reached the Terrace Trail to begin the descent, I saw that Peter Keeney was closing the gap. I'd managed to stay ahead of Peter at the White Out mainly because he couldn't see me, but that was not the case today. It was a race.

Knowing that I'm a decent descender, I hit the Terrace Trail hard hoping to disappear for a bit. Running down the Terrace Trail would be fun. Racing down the Terrace Trail was on the edge between fun and insane. Who designed this course? I didn't quite disappear, but I couldn't see Peter any longer. I hit the cruel piece of singletrack around the Feldspar Quarry that marked the very end of each lap and thought, "How am I going to run another lap at this pace?" My Garmin read 25:20 when I made the turn to start back up the Switchback Trail.

Nearing the end of the first lap, already hurting. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

Powdery. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

The good part about the Switchback is that it runs through open woods, so I could see exactly the field around me. Geoff and Judson reappeared, and I timed them at about a minute ahead of me. Peter was not far behind me and gaining, and Chris was about a minute back. This really was a race. With every turn Peter was getting closer, and my whole goal was to stay in front of him through the climb. I didn't want to give him the psychological edge of passing me on or near the top of the climb. I did manage to reach the top ahead of him and pushed hard down the first stretch of the Tote Road. I looked back and realized I'd gapped him. "I may have a chance," I thought. Being the race director as well I also thought, "If I stay ahead of him, the overall and masters podiums will be nice and tidy." Double duty is weird.

Just like the first lap, it took me a good half mile to recover from the climb, but this time I was in a race. Peter had reappeared, and a big part of me was really hoping he'd slow down. He never did and just kept pushing me throughout the lap. By the end of the Tote Road, he was only a few seconds behind, and I was deep into the pain cave. I doubted I would able to pull it off, but my new goal was to stay ahead of him through the climb up the Northern Loop. It was obvious he was climbing stronger than I was, and I was certain he knew that. I hoped that if I could stay ahead of him on the climb, I could put a little doubt in his mind. This was racing. As we climbed the final stretch, he was right on my heels, and I was waiting for him to move around. He never did. Mission accomplished.

The second time down the Terrace Trail crossed the line into insanity. I knew it was my best chance to get away from Peter, unless I fell. I nearly went down a couple times, but I not only managed to stay upright but also get a bit of a gap. Unfortunately, that gap quickly evaporated as he surged pretty hard as we turned right off the Terrace Trail. It took about 3 miles from when I first saw him, but he finally passed me. We exchanged labored words of encouragement, and I knew he was hurting as much as I was.

When I devised this course, I figured that if two people were racing together, the first person to reach the Feldspar Quarry singletrack at this stage in the race would win the duel. Now, I was in second place in such as duel with more than a quarter mile to go before we hit the singletrack. In the past, I would have conceded and run it in for fourth place. Something was different on this day. When Peter went past me, I stayed right with him. He would open small gaps, and each time I closed them back up. And each time, I thought I couldn't push any harder and had no idea how I'd just done that. We lapped a group of runners, including fellow Trail Monsters Ann and Kate, and it was awesome to have them cheering for me. Home field advantage!

Peter reached the Feldspar Quarry singletrack first, and I was right on him. I had to put out of my mind what I had previously thought about this finish and just try to stay close. If I could stay on him, it was going to come down to a sprint in the last 30 yards.

The Suffering Sequence:

Starting up the Feldspar Quarry singletrack. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

That can't be efficient. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

Why does Peter look so comfortable? Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

No extra charge for the drool. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

Getting gapped. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

As we turned left to head to the field, he opened a gap that looked huge, and I thought, "You didn't push all this time to not even let it come down to a sprint." I hammered the last couple yards of singletrack and was right on his tails again just as we turned right onto the field. He moved right. I moved left and gave it all I had. It was just enough to go by him and finish in third place in 49:54. Although, Peter quipped post-race, "You should be able to beat an old guy like me."

Sprint finish. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

I owe a ton to Peter for pushing me throughout that entire race. A lot of mutual respect was earned on this day. Geoff and Judson (holing hands...maybe) finished together a little over a minute ahead of us. Peter earned top master with Chris not far back in a great weekend double of racing. Fellow Trail Monster Chuck Hazzard was sixth overall, third master, running a really great race. A lot of other strong performances by other Trail Monsters as we took places six through fourteen.

RESULTS
Photos from Maine Running Photos: Set 1 | Set 2

Looking back, it was foolish for me to push so hard in the first half mile and lead the race. I didn't plan on it, and it just sort of happened. (Conspiracy theory: it was an acidotic RACING plot to sabotage my race!) Glad it didn't cost me in the end, although I'm certain it made that end a little more painful. That being said, I'm really proud of this race. I raced. I didn't just show up and time trial. At any number of points, I could have backed off and taken fourth, fifth, sixth place with the field assembled. I was able to will myself to keep pushing. I thought I was toast after the first lap, but the second lap was actually a bit faster. That shocks me. I learned in the race that I can suffer for a long period of time, and then push even more. Hopefully, this is a lesson I can carry forward.

Thanks to everyone who came out to race, volunteer and support the first annual Bradbury Mountain Snowshoe Series. Yup, annual! We'll be back next winter.

Leading the crowd in song at the awards. See you next year! Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

Training 2/20 - 2/26

2011-02-26T10:21:00.003-05:00

Well, I didn't quite get to the 50 I was hoping for this week, but I'm not disappointed. The key was to make certain I didn't overdo things after the marathon at the February Fat Ass last week. That being said, I may have overdone things. The pain/tightness I'm currently experiencing in my left shin/ankle is either just that: pain/tightness or something worse. Obviously, I'm hopeful it's the former and that a disciplined regimen of ice/heat/ibuprofen/stretching/foam rolling will cure it. Either way, this really was a week of second guessing. I was never certain if I was doing too much or just being overly cautious. Really an up and down week, at least mentally.

Onto the numbers...

Sunday, 2/20: 5 - 47:48, Topsham Snowmobile Trails to Lover's Lane. An easy run on what has become the old standby winter route. As expected from running 26.5 miles the previous day, my legs were tired, but, thankfully, no specific muscle soreness of any kind, which was a really good sign.

Monday, 2/21: 5.25 - 55:17, Bradbury Blizzard course, snowshoes. I wanted to check out the course, which I'd actually never snowshoed in full, only run, and also check out the start area. The park staff had agreed to pack the start area with a snowmobile, which was very nice of them, and I wanted to give the entire course a good look. Needless to say, it was firm and fast. Based on Friday's snow, I'll be very lucky to duplicate that time in Sunday's race. I had originally planned on adding on a few more miles, but I ran out of time and was ravenously hungry. The good news is that my legs felt great.

Tuesday, 2/22: Off

Wednesday, 2/23: 9.75 - 1:37:21, Granite State Snowshoe Champs course + add on at Great Glen Trails, snowshoes. Needed to get out first thing in the morning, and the thermometer was reading -2° when I headed out the door. Thankfully, it warmed up steadily throughout the run and my eyelids eventually thawed. Conditions on the groomed Nordic trails were perfect...for skiing...but surprisingly soft and slow for snowshoeing. The well-packed singletrack was actually faster. I really enjoy running the Aqueduct Loop and contemplated another lap of it when I finished the GSSC course, but decided that another 450+ of elevation gain and loss in 2.75 miles wasn't really necessary. Legs felt great for the entirety of the run, but I was bonking a bit by the end. Time for breakfast.

Thursday, 2/24: 11 - 1:22:10, River + Meadow Cross Roads. I was a bit on the fence of what type of workout to get in today, but I settled on a marathon pace run. Once I made that decision, I'd hoped to run 14 with the final 11 at MP, but it wasn't in the cards. I ended up taking the day off from work to stay home with a sick kiddo. I was pretty mentally drained by the afternoon, so I'm amazed I got out at all. And, the only reason I did get out was because D came home early from work to relieve me. With all that going, I have to say I felt great on this run. I ran this loop in the opposite direction for the first time, and it may become the regular direction. A stiff wind was in my face in a few places, but otherwise I rolled right along. The first 3 miles were easy, 7:55 pace, and the final 11 at MP, which on this day was a 7:17 average. That pace felt pretty reasonable, although my miles themselves were fairly uneven. Using the average lap pace feature on my Garmin as a guide, I'd basically slack off the first half of each mile then pick it up to get the split I wanted. I can only assume that I'd get complacent each time I saw a good split. Either way, still a great run.

Friday, 2/25: 14.25 - 2:21:41, Topsham Snowmobile Trails, Random. This could have been a really great run, but it didn't feel that way. D and I had a schedule sync again, so we headed out together. Her plan was to run the Topsham Snowmobile Dump Loop, to get 7, and I was hoping for 15. Snow starting falling shortly before we left, and we moved steadily for the first 5 miles together in about 2-3 inches of new snow. Great to run together again, even though she pushed the pace the entire time. :) At 5 miles we parted ways, her for home and I for a little exploring. I wanted to check out another branch of the snowmobile trail I'd never been on. Turns out it's just a two-mile out and back, but it meandered through some nice woods and gave me some good intel on some dirt road/trail potential for a snowless loop in the summer. I also saw a woman driving a dogsled...although neither she nor the dogs seemed to know what they were doing or particularly enjoying themselves. Very random. At about 9 miles, the snow had intensified, and I seriously contemplated heading for home to get what would have been about 11. It was at this same time that I could feel some tightness in my left shin, on the outside of my leg just above the ankle. Before my run on Monday on the Bradbury Blizzard course, I'd strapped on my old, giant snowshoes to pack out the Switchback Trail and must have tightened the binding on that foot too much. By Tuesday morning, my foot was very sore with what I've always referred to as "lace bite." I surmised that I may have tied my shoes too tight as well, but didn't think much of it since the pain had subsided on Wednesday and was gone by Thursday. Well, a couple miles later I was really thinking of it as it was pretty painful. I slowly sank into a full world of suck as by now the snowfall was near 5 inches, and I was sinking and kicking more and more with each step. Throw in some stiff wind gusts, and I just wanted to be done. Additionally, I'd only worn thin gloves since it was 32°-33° out, and after nearly two hours of running in falling snow they were soaked. I had to stow my handheld water bottle in my jacket since holding it made my hands too cold. I finally made it home, and despite putting in a solid effort and exploring some new trails, I was pretty down and concerned about my leg.

Saturday, 2/26: 2.5 - 58:03, Bradbury Blizzard recon, snowshoes. With plenty of heat, ice, ibuprofen and sticking the previous night, I woke up hopeful that my shin/ankle would be magically cured. It wasn't. A smart person would probably take a couple days off, but the Bradbury Blizzard is on Sunday—gotta race and race direct. The latter of these duties had me at The Brad early to "assess the damage" of 8-10" of new snow the previous day. Needless to say, conditions were very different from Monday, and I had a hard time even finding the same course. I was the first one into the powder, and it would have been a lot of fun if I was just looking to wander aimlessly and play in the snow, but I was on a mission. I did find "a" course, just not "the" course I had run on Monday. It will work well for the race, and bumped into Ian and the Saturday morning crew after on trip up and down, which gave me the chance to show Ian the devilishness I'd concocted for the race. Along with Zak, we ran one trip up the Switchback together, and we even managed to find the correct route again. (Even though it's not the true Switchback Trail.) I ran out of time due to the deepness of the snow slowing the pace and was unable to get a full lap of the course in, but all my wandering did add up to 2.5 miles, most of it up and down the Switchback. The good news is that although I could feel some tightness in my shin/ankle, I didn't have any pain. Fingers crossed.

Totals:
Miles: 47.75
Trail: 36.75
Road: 11.25

Just a strange week all around with a huge damper on the end with the potential injury. My plan is to race the Bradbury Blizzard on Sunday and then assess. I have 4 weeks until the Gator Trail 50k, and I don't want to do anything stupid. The training has been going great, and I feel ready to throw down a good effort in that race. So, I'm not going to stress if I end up tapering 4 weeks instead of 3. Of course, I say this now, but I still want to get in one more 20+ mile run before the 50k. Holy crap! Four weeks to the big show!

Training 2/13 - 2/19

2011-02-20T20:20:00.002-05:00

Taking a step back week last week was definitely the right call as the legs felt fairly springy this week. And, with what I put them through, they needed it: a snowshoe race, a snappy road run and a marathon. It all added up to...

Onto the numbers...

Sunday, 2/13: 8 total. Bradbury White Out.

Monday, 2/14: 5 - 46:52, Topsham Snowmobile Trails to Lover's Lane. Real easy recovery run. Trails were fairly soft, adding to the feeling in my legs that I had raced the previous day. My left calf was still a bit tight.

Tuesday, 2/15: 5.75 total, 3k snowshoe "race." Another week at Nordic Meisters in which I didn't go all out. I may have gone a little harder than necessary, but I felt pretty good. The conditions were firm, but I was surprised to go 19:05 on the 3k course. 2.75 warm up around the Aqueduct Loop again, and shorter 1 mile cool down. Although, the paces of the three pieces didn't vary by much. Overall, I'd say I felt better than I expected to, and my calf wasn't an issue at all.

Wednesday, 2/16: Off

Thursday, 2/17: 11.25 - 1:27:06, Meadow Cross + River Roads. I wanted to do something a bit up tempo, but not...well...a tempo. I have to admit that the 7:45 average felt really easy, even though it was probably a bit quicker than necessary. Oh well, I felt good, so I just rolled with it. This run has a few hills in it, too, so it was a good confidence booster.

Friday, 2/18: 5 - 47:32, Topsham Snowmobile Trails to Lover's Lane. D and I had a rare schedule sync up, so we headed out after she dropped the kiddo off at daycare. I felt a bit sluggish, no doubt from the previous day's effort, but we kept the pace really easy. Good to have the opportunity to run together.

Saturday, 2/19: 26.5 - 4:21:17, February Fat Ass. Is it normal to get together with friends and run for hours on packed, semi-packed and terrifyingly postholed snowmobile trails on a really windy day? Probably not, but if you're reading this, there's a good chance you would find it not that unusual. Our hosts, Valerie and Linda, opened their homes and nearby trails to us for an awesome day. My plan was to get at least 20, hopefully 25, and maybe all 31. The course was 5.28ish miles long and 5 laps was plenty. I never felt 100% during the run, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. It was good to get through a run like this without ever feeling great. Complete opposite of the trail marathon I ran in January at the GAC Fat Ass. However, just like the GAC Fat Ass, I ran practically every step with Jamie, and he really helped pull me through the last few miles. We pretty much hit on every topic imaginable, most not fit for print. Good times.

Totals:
Miles: 61.5
Trail: 50.25
Road: 11.25

My second marathon of 2011 and my second week over 60 miles. Two more hard weeks, assuming I feel OK after Saturday, and then it's taper time. Getting down to it. I'm hoping to get over 50 this week, but it's all going to be based on how I feel.

Bradbury White Out Race Report

2011-02-14T20:21:00.005-05:00

Alternate title for this post: Bradbury White Out Time Trial Report. The alternate title may be more appropriate as I ran all but the first 1/4 mile of the race alone, but I'll get to that part of the story in a bit.

I arrived at Bradbury Mountain State Park at about 7:45am, with 3 hours and 15 minutes to go until the start of the race. Yup, another double duty day: racing and race directing. After things came together fairly well for the Bradbury Squall, I felt like we had it all under control for this race. Now, that doesn't mean that I slept well, but things were feeling fairly automatic. Once again, Ian was a tremendous help, and after moving most of the items to the picnic shelter for registration and post-race activities, we headed out to finalize the course markings. We'd put all the flags in place on Saturday, so all that was left to do on race day was the arrows. Ian and I split the duties, and we were back in plenty of time for registration. Once again, I had a killer crew of volunteers, and at one point Ian and I looked at each other and joked, "Guess we just hang out until race time." There are always plenty of last minute details and questions, but things went very smoothly. Thanks again to my crack volunteer staff: Mindy, Valerie, Rick, Linda and Jamie.

I was pretty worried about my left calf, since it was pretty tight during and after my course marking excursion on Saturday. I stretched, heated and rolled it on Saturday night and hoped for the best. It felt OK, but still tight, when I was out placing the course markings, and I wasn't thrilled about the time between what would be my warm up and the race start: more than 2 hours.

I tried to keep my mind off of it by using that time alone to actually think about my race strategy. I hadn't given it a lot of thought until then, even though the first thing Ian said to me when we arrived at the park was, "Are you going to go out crazy fast again?" The more I thought about it, I decided that I was indeed going to go out crazy fast. Well, moderately fast anyway. Roughly, the course was all uphill in the first mile, followed by a long downhill for 2 miles (aside from the uphill parts), then another long climb to 3.5 miles at the top of the Boundary Trail. The remainder of the course was a crazy fast downhill for about .5 mile with about .1 uphill to the finish. My plan was to run it like a 3.5 mile race with the top of that hill being the finish line. I knew that I could go out hard in the first mile and recover on the downhill section. This would give me a chance to sneak away, I hoped. And, I figured that if I could get to 3.5 miles at the top of the hill in a good position, someone would have to go all out crazy to catch me in the last half mile, since I'm a decent descender. Plus, I should be able to at least hang on. Seemed like a sound plan.

As the race started, it was time to put that plan in place, and at the end of the field I was just behind acidotic RACING's Judson Cake, fellow Trail Monster Blaine Moore and unidentified fast looking dude. (I would later learn that the unknown dude was Nick Wheeler, owner of a 1:09 half marathon.) So, yup, going out hard again. Plus, conditions were firm and fast, so we were moving. On the first hill on the Northern Loop Trail, about 1/4 mile in, I moved past Blaine, and into third place. I watched Nick and Judson turn up the Terrace Trail, and I could still hear Blaine's footfalls behind me. I put my head down and hammered up the Terrace Trail, and it got quieter and quieter. I turned onto the Bluff Trail at the top and was able to catch a glimpse of a train coming up the Terrace Trail still: Blaine, followed by unknown guy, followed by Peter Keeney of Crow Athletics (and smoking me at Sidehiller fame). This was the last time in the race, I had any human contact.

My neck should be sore from all the times I looked back over the next three miles. I kept thinking I was hearing footfalls, but it was really my own neurosis. I stuck with my plan, though, and when I started climbing on the Boundary Trail, I wanted to bury it. There are a couple steep pitches that dare you to walk, but I never did. I hit the turn onto the South Ridge Trail, I was still alone and breathed a sigh of relief. I tried not to relax too much, but my focus went from pushing to staying upright. The course included a small loop out to the South Ridge Cliff that afforded the perfect opportunity to see exactly who was behind you. I timed the loop as I ran it: 40 seconds, and I didn't see anyone behind me. With the descent before me, I knew I had third place wrapped up as long as I stayed on my feet. Despite the sheer insanity that is trying to run down the South Ridge Trail, I did stay upright. Of course, there was still the small matter of the remaining cruel uphill to the finish. I hadn't dared look behind me since I timed that loop, but I wasn't about to let anyone catch me in this last section. I put my head down up the hill and through the line to finish in 33:52 in a very distant third place. Nick and Judson ran 29:48 and 30:36, respectively, so I was on the podium, but no where near the top.

RESULTS

Coming into the finish. Courtesy Maine Running Photos.

Overall, I'm happy with my race, but I know I could have run faster. No excuses, but running alone made it far too easy to relax. Although the look on my face on the above photo may tell a different story, I know there was a bit more in the tank. It was basically the opposite of my race at Sidehiller, when I always had someone just ahead and just behind. Very different race experience, and it really did feel like a time trial. That being said, it was a good race, and I was thrilled to get on the podium with the field that raced. I'm already looking forward to the last race in the series, the Bradbury Blizzard.

Training 2/6 - 2/12

2011-02-14T10:51:00.002-05:00

Much needed step back week, and I think it's paid off. The draggy feeling I had in my legs early in the week had dissipated by the end. Additionally, the timing was quite good as my sinuses were in bad shape this week, thanks to our daycare kiddo. My face was sore all the way out to my ears for a couple days. Good times. So, I do thinking backing off on the mileage and the intensity was just what I needed to help fight it off.

Onto the numbers...

Sunday, 2/6: 5.25 - 1:00:10, Mt. Ararat snowshoe. A bit crusty and slushy on a warmish day, but much faster than the conditions from last Thursday. Decent effort, but could definitely feel the illness. Just never felt fresh.

Monday, 2/7: 10.25 - 1:23:35, Woodside Road. Kept the pace very easy, for both the legs and the sinuses, and, overall, I felt pretty good. Better than I expected, actually. That being said, the roads around Topsham and Brunswick right now are even less fun that usual due to the narrowing caused by the snowbanks and ice and slop all around. In addition, the temperatures were up a bit, and there was a little bit of melting. So, every passing car sprayed a sweet mix of water, road salt, dirt, gasoline, oil, and gawdknowswhatelse all over me. Running on the roads sucks.

Tuesday, 2/8: 4 total, 3k snowshoe "race." Back to Nordic Meisters again, but this week, I was really just going through the motions. Shorter warm up, moderate effort during the 3k and really short cool down. Just felt tired and off, but taking it easy was the right call. Because of this, my results aren't going to look that good, and Tuesdays are the best day for me to go hard. Really, it's all about keeping my ego in check and focusing on the bigger picture.

Wednesday, 2/9: Off

Thursday, 2/10: 5 - 42:45, Highland Green. Another real easy day, and I felt really good and comfortable. Very uneventful run, which was nice. Back road, the dirt portion of the loop, was very, very icy reducing my pace to shuffle.

Friday, 2/11: 9 - 1:20:39, Topsham Snowmobile trails. This was a sweet run. I had a really fun time just wandering and exploring some trails I'd never been on before. Kept the pace really easy and the legs felt great. I think that I can come up with 6- and 7-mile loops from my house, which will be great. Got a lot out of this run both physically and mentally. Great stuff. Well, not all great, I did tweak my left calf a bit with about a mile to go as I stepped into a posthole.

Saturday, 2/12: 4.5 - 1:20:15, Bradbury White Out, course marking. At The Brad early to get the course marked for Sunday's Bradbury White Out snowshoe race. Carrying a backpack full of flags, stopping at every intersection and then stressing about every single flag, tends to slow the pace a bit, but there is no denying that the course would be firm and fast for the race. Enjoyable tour of the course, but my calf was very tight from the previous day.

Totals: 38
Trail: 22.75
Road: 15.25

Pretty pleased that a 38-mile week represents a step back week for me, and even more pleased that my legs felt rejuvenated by the end. My mindset also changed throughout the week as I was not looking forward to my runs early in the week, but I was back to my usual ready-to-go attitude by the end. Hopefully, things will stay together with some big training weeks coming up. Looking forward to them. Obviously, I'll be monitoring the calf, just to be safe, but I don't think it will be an issue.

Training 1/30 - 2/5

2011-02-07T21:27:00.003-05:00

Another solid week. Even though looking at the number of total miles, 47, it would seem to be low for this point in ultra training. However, a closer look will reveal some high quality and tough miles on snowshoes.

Onto the numbers:

Sunday, 1/30: 5 - 44:56, Highland Green. A very easy recovery run following Sidehiller. I'm not going to lie: I was tired. But, not sore at all.

Monday, 1/31: 9.25 - 1:34:58, Granite State Snowshoe Championship Course + add on at Great Glen Trails. This was a very awesome, but very cold snowshoe run. The sun was dipping behind the Presidential Range when I started, and by the time I reached the high point on the Aqueduct Loop, I was treated to a fine sunset. However, once the sun went down, it got cold. It was 3° when I started...so, yeah, really cold by the end. My gloves and outer shirt were frozen solid. The good news with such cold temperatures is that the groomed Nordic trails were also frozen solid, making for some fast running. On the add-on portion, I opted to check out some singletrack. Unfortunately, I was the first person to do so, and the deep snow flung on my back from the snowshoes only added to my frozen state. But, like I said, this was a very solid run.

Tuesday, 2/1: 5.5 total, 3k snowshoe race. Another week of Nordic Meisters in the books. All the snow has made the sidehills pretty sketchy, and I was admitted a bit sluggish from the previous couple days. Decent effort, though, and more importantly, I didn't slide off the trail. 18:37 for the 3k, with the Aqueduct Loop for a warm up (again), but a very short cool down...I was already cool enough.

Wednesday, 2/2: Off

Thursday, 2/3: 5.25 - 1:15:10, Mt. Ararat snowshoe. Holy crap. With the new snow that fell on Tuesday and Wednesday, the trail hadn't been tracked out...and it was deep. I basically thrashed myself for 5 miles. Beautiful day, though.

Friday, 2/4: 17 - 2:08:41, Foreside Loop + Highland Green. Three miles easy: 24:10, followed by 14 at marathon pace, averaged 7:25 per mile. Once I realized that this run wasn't going to be easy, it felt a lot easier. Once I accepted that it was going to hurt a bit, it hurt a lot less. It was a solid run. I never felt great, but very happy with the result. I also got to flip off a jerk in pickup who was ticked off that I was taking up too much room in the road. He was very angry. I'm pretty sure he hates his life, if he was that angry at having to stop for 3 seconds.

Saturday, 2/5: 5 - 41:52, Highland Green (Out & Back). Couldn't run the usual loop since it hadn't been plowed, and I wasn't up for postholing. The out and back version worked out just fine. Felt a bit sluggish and my hamstrings were tight from the previous day.

Totals:
Miles: 47
Trail: 20
Road: 27

Really happy with the week. Also a good week because I am definitely tired. I'm averaging 49 miles per week for 2011, when for all of 2010 my average was about 28. This is a big jump, and I think it's paying off. The real test comes on 3/26 in the Gator Trail 50k, which I think about every single day. I am confident with the direction my training is headed. That being said, I'm also smart as this up coming week will be a step back for some much needed rest. No long run or high intensity this week. I'm hoping to freshen up the legs a bit for four more big weeks of training before a good taper.

Training 1/23 - 1/29

2011-01-31T21:25:00.002-05:00

Numbers alone point to this being a very solid week. Very happy about that. However, I didn't feel particularly springy, but that's not a surprise with two races and a 20-mile road run. Maybe I'm nitpicking, but I want to make sure that I'm keeping up the positive momentum.

Onto the numbers...

1/23, Sunday: 8.75 total, Bradbury Squall.

1/24, Monday: 5 - 47:22, Topsham Snowmobile Trails to Lovers' Lane. Good, solid recovery run. Kept the pace very easy. The snowmobile trails were pretty decently packed.

1/25, Tuesday: 5.75 total, 3k snowshoe race. Fourth week of Nordic Meisters, and I was back at it after a week away. Snow conditions were much softer, making the sidehills pretty sketchy and borderline unrunnable. Those sections of the course aren't really a lot of fun, but the rest of the course is a fair test. Time reflected both the snow conditions and my effort: 20:18, which was not all out. Tempo effort, but it's tough to gauge with the aforementioned sidehill. Felt a little sluggish and cut the cool down short.

1/26, Wednesday: Off

1/27, Thursday: 20 - 2:39:27, Brunswick Bike Path. After the snow on Wednesday, I wanted to stay off the roads, or, more specifically, the uncleared, slushy, frozen mess on the road shoulders. The Bike Path was the obvious choice. Including the less traveled roads on either end of the Bike Path, the total length is about 3.25 miles. Yup, 20 miles on a 3.25 mile stretch of road. This run was really more of a mental test than a physical one. I did have some annoying back spasms at about 13 miles, but I was able to run through them. Did I mention the wind? Overall, this run was hard...or at least it felt hard.

1/28, Friday: 4 - 42:10, Mt. Ararat Snowshoe. Beautiful day: sunny with temps in the low 30's. I was tired from the previous day, and I cut this one short. With a race scheduled for the next day, I didn't want to push it. The tired legs were worrisome.

1/29, Saturday: 8 total, Sidehiller 4 Mile Snowshoe Race.

Totals:
Miles: 51.5
Trail: 27.5
Road: 24

There are so many reasons I should be thrilled about this week, but I'm not all the way to thrilled. I feel like it's only OK. The mileage alone is better than any single week of 2010, and I had two great races on top of that. Good reasons to be excited, but I'd like to see this become more of a standard week in 2011, and, as I mentioned, none of it came easy. Then again, maybe that's the point.

Sidehiller 4 Mile Snowshoe Race - Race Report

2011-01-30T11:33:00.008-05:00

I suppose this race report should begin the same way the lead up to this race did: lots of whining and complaining. I'd been battling some type of sinus monster all week, and my legs were feeling pretty shot after a 20-mile road run on Thursday. I went for an easy snowshoe run on Friday, which ended up feeling anything but easy. Needless to say, my confidence was not high. However, I did have big plans for this race, since it is...well, a big race. A good chunk of the best snowshoe racers in New England make the trip to (the) Center (of nowhere) Sandwich, and I was anxious to see how I would stack up this year.

Fellow Trail Monster, Four, made the trip with me, and it was great to have someone to complain to about how tired my legs felt for the entire ride. A race like Sidehiller is great because it's basically old home week, and it was fun to catch up with so too many familiar faces to mention here. In many ways, it makes the race seem like an after thought, and in my humble opinion, the snowshoe crowd is among the best you'll find anywhere. Like the trail and ultra crowds, no matter where you are in the pack there's a great sense of "we're all in this together" that creates an awesome camaraderie. I also have to admit that it was nice to just be a racer and not have to direct as well, like last week at the Bradbury Squall, and, as a result, I was quite relaxed.

Four and I got in a 2-mile warm up, and I chatted with Scott Mason on the way back. It's always great to see Scott running at races rather than just shooting photos of them. I made my way to the start and said hello to a number of others, including Steve Wolfe, while doing a few strides. Steve had a "I can't believe I'm racing today" look about him and was a little off his game, unfortunately. After race director extraordinaire and White Mountain Miler top dog, Paul Kirsch, gave his pre-race instructions, I somehow found myself in the second row on the start line directly behind Kevin Tilton and Jim Johnson. I knew these guys would be duking it out for the top spot, so I was a bit concerned that I was going to get pulled out way, way, way too fast. As the gun went off that's pretty much exactly what happened, and if the race was 200 meters, I would have finished in the top 5. Luckily, the trail at the start is a wide Nordic trail, so I had enough space to let a number of guys by until things evened themselves out.

Race start. Photo by Joe Viger.

After getting a course description from Paul earlier in the week, I felt like I knew what to expect and set my strategy accordingly. The course began with about 3/4 of a mile on the groomed Nordic trails around the fairgrounds before crossing the road and into the woods for about 3 miles of singletrack. We would climb after leaving the road, cross a field, drop back down to the road, and then finish back on the groomed trails at the fairground. Knowing my strength/disregard for my own life on the downhills, my plan was to go out hard—borderline suicidally hard—then push the uphill with the hopes of maintaining on the downhill and surviving to the finish. Getting pulled out so quickly at the beginning certainly set me up nicely to implement my plan, but what I did not expect was the softness of the groomed trail. Normally, a groomed trail will be firm and well-packed, but we were still punching through with just about every step. In the first half mile, I knew this was going to be a very tough race.

First road crossing. Photo by Joe Viger.

Circling through the fairgrounds, I settled in behind Tuesday Night Turtle's Dave Principie and was not far behind him as we crossed the road—when the real racing and climbing begins. Dave passed another racer, and I went by him shortly after. I was being trailed by...well, I'm not exactly sure how many or who. I was really focused on climbing and moving forward, so I forced myself not to look back. The climb wasn't steep, but the snow was very loose. A smarter person would have backed off the pace, but I was determined to stick to my strategy, even though I thought a couple times, "I'm not sure how long I can keep this pace up."

After more climbing, I eventually reached the first field just behind Dave. I was relieved to be off the climb. My relief soon turn to despair as the fields turned out to be harder running than the climbs. I will have nightmares about these fields for years to come. The snow was a mid of sugar and wind-packed crust. If you ran in the footfalls of the person in front of you, you sunk deeper into the hole. If you tried to run in between the holes, the crust and sugar mix dragged you down. It was pure evil. I made it across the first field right on Dave's tails, and Crow Athletics' Peter Keeney went by both of us here and basically took off. We came to a second field, and it was more of the same. I was deep into a zone here and just focused on Dave's snowshoes. Four described running through these fields the best: it was like the scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail when the knight is running across the field, but not getting any closer. Drum, drum, drum, drum... If anyone was out there watching us come at them, I sure it would have been an apt description. I felt like I was hammering, but Dave looked like he was barely moving...and I couldn't catch him. Like I said, pure evil.

I don't think I've ever been so happy to see a stone wall in my life, as we exited the field a began the downhill to the road...or so I thought. As we started downhill, I picked up some chatter behind me and realized that Chris Dunn and Amber Ferriera of acidotic Racing were right on my heels. The racing history between Chris and myself is very one-sided and always follows the same script: he passes me within the first .5 mile of the race, and I never see him again. At this point, not quite three miles, into the race, I had been wondering when he was going to catch and pass me. He was right on my tails, and I said, "Either you're slipping, or I'm suicidal." He told me I was doing fine, and I knew he was content to stay behind in this instance.

Moments later, we reached another (really, the same) stone wall, and we entered another (really, the same) field. A third field crossing?!?!?! I thought we were headed down to the road?!?! I wanted to do terrible, awful things to Paul. Dave must have been thinking the same thing as he slowed, and I let him know I was coming around. Chris and Amber did the same, and I lead the three of us across the field. It was at this point that it occurred to me that I had been running a pace I had no idea if I could hold for more than 3 miles now. I was pretty certain I was going to blow up at any second.

The field ended and we started downhill. "Finally, we're headed for the road," I thought. Since Amber weighs about half of what I do, she literally floated by on my right side. I stayed with her on the downhill, and I could tell we gapped Chris slightly. Then, the trail started climbing again! Now, I was really mad at Paul. I was right on Amber's heels as we climbed, and she asked if I wanted to get by. I said, "I'm barely hanging on," and it was the truth. Chris had closed on us and was nice enough to announce that this was the last climb. "I didn't realize we were climbing," I quipped, and it was honesty the most sarcastic thing I've said in my life (that's saying a lot.) because that climb just flat out hurt. The order remained the same at the top of the climb, and I knew we were indeed headed down to the road. I nearly fell, and would have crushed Amber, on a sketchy, rutted-out corner, but stayed upright, and we crossed the road together. I thought Chris had fallen a bit back, but as we crossed the bridge to head across the field he was right behind us. I was beginning to think he was a horror movie villain. "Why won't he die?!?!"

"Pulling" Chris to the finish. Photo by Krissy K.

In the final stretch to the finish, I thought I was going to go around Amber and just at that moment she accelerated. I knew I wasn't going to get her, but, in all honestly, I wasn't racing her. I didn't care if she got me by a mile or vice versa, as long as I stayed ahead of Chris. About a second later, I felt Chris come right up on my shoulder, and I did the same to him. In the end, the order remained the same with just 3 seconds between the three of us. I finished in 16th place overall in 38:17.

Getting dusted by the reigning national champion. (Who probably would've run faster had she been able to see my face.) Photo by Joe Viger.

Finish Line. Photo by Joe Viger.

RESULTS

Post-race, Chris said, "Your fitness...man!" That really sums it up. I'm definitely in better shape this snowshoe season, and, additionally, I'm learning how to race. I thought I was done on 6 or 7 separate occasions during that race, and it helped a ton to have great competition all around me. I certainly would not have run that fast without those guys pushing me. During the race, nothing was fun, but it felt really good after. Needless to say, I'm very happy with my performance, and it was an all around great day at the races.

Bradbury Squall - Race Report

2011-01-25T21:20:00.006-05:00

This race report is really a race report and a race directing report. So, I'm not sure if that means it will be twice as good or twice as bad, but I'll do my best.

The race directing portion of this report really starts somewhere in my head last winter during snowshoe season, when I thought, "We really need to have snowshoe races at Bradbury." A year of scheming later and after a summer "apprenticeship" helping Ian with the Bradbury Mountain Trail Running Series, I arrived at Bradbury Mountain State Park at 7:45 on Sunday morning ready to direct my first race. Ian, who was unbelievably helpful throughout the entire process, arrived shortly after me and summed it up best with the first thing he said to me, "How'd you sleep last night?" Red Meat arrived moments later, and the three of us headed out to mark the course. I had marked the singletrack section, Krista's Trail, on Saturday so that saved some time, but it still took longer than I had hoped. By the time we finished, my tremendous crew of volunteers—Linda, Valerie, Jamie and Jim, had already arrived ready to do anything and everything I needed. The race absolutely would not have happened without them. Thanks, guys!

The next hour and forty-five minutes were a total blur, and then suddenly I was changing into my racing gear. Then I had a surreal moment as I was the guy standing in front of the start line thanking sponsors and giving race instructions. I was very relieved to get on the starting line and just be a racer.

The cowbell rang, and the first-ever snowshoe race at Bradbury Mountain State Park was underway. My plan was to go out hard to get to the singletrack .6 miles into the race as far up in the field as possible, and as I reached the end of the field I was right next to Judson Cake—a 2:22 marathoner. Yup, going out hard. He pulled away from me, and another racer, a young kid whom I didn't recognize, moved past me and up alongside Judson. The snowmobiles had "groomed" the Northern Loop Trail and the Ski Trail making it very runnable, and I watched that duo steadily pull away from me with each stride. I had no illusions of running with Judson, so I didn't worry much about them. However, I did keep waiting for any one of the many talented Trail Monsters to join me. As I reached Krista's Trail, I was thrilled to be in third place and was very curious who was behind me as I could hear footfalls but hadn't looked back. It was not who I expected. It wasn't any of the Trail Monsters, but the tall, fit looking guy I saw at registration.

Once we hit the singletrack, he moved right up behind me, and I told him I would pull over if he wanted to go around. He declined, which was fine with me, as I appreciated the push. Aside from the two racers in front of us, it was clear that no one else had been through that trail since I had marked the course the previous day. It was classic snowshoe conditions: barely tracked powder, which means it was fun, but tough going. From behind me I heard, "Man, this is deep." I couldn't disagree. I did catch a glimpse of some of the pack behind us at one point, and I knew that they were right on our heels. Running that singletrack was really fun, but taxing. I made the pass offer once again, and once again he declined. We hit what I knew was the top of the climb on Krista's Trail, and I was able to open up a small gap as we descended through the twists and turns.

Once we hit the Tote Road, which was decently packed but only "groomed" by ski and snowshoe traffic, I'd maintained a small gap, but he soon closed it. About a quarter mile later, he said, "I think I'll sneak by now." I moved over and let him by pass as the trail climbed slightly. He put a good amount of distance on me in a short amount of time. Then we hit a short downhill, and I closed a bit. This would be the story for the rest of the race: he'd pull away on the uphills, and I'd close on the downs. For the most part, the Boundary Trail is downhill, so I was able to work back to only a few steps behind him at the low point of the whole course. After that low point, was what earlier that morning Ian had called "the worst part of the whole race." When he said it, I knew he was right, and I felt he was right as the trail steepened and then steepened again. That uphill on the Boundary Trail was a killer. And, true to form, I was loosing ground. I just couldn't stay with him.

I knew we had about three-quarters of a mile remaining, and I kept chasing. I never fully expected to catch him, but I was using him as a carrot. Throughout this race, I had a very strange feeling: I was running scared. I knew the caliber of guys behind me: Ian, James, Stephen, Jeff, Blaine, David and Chuck to name a few. I kept waiting to get caught. In any road or trail race, it would be a tough task to race with these guys, and I really wasn't sure how it would translate to snowshoes. I do have more snowshoe experience, but just because you've run more races doesn't make you faster. I knew that if I backed off at all, I'd get caught. Plus, I was racing for a podium spot, which was uncharted territory for me.

Eventually, the Boundary Trail brought us back to the snowmobile-groomed Northern Loop Trail, and I have to admit, it was nice to have a surface I could really open up on. But, it wasn't enough as I never made the catch. And, to my surprise, I also didn't get caught. I finished in fourth place in 32:24. It was great to get back to snowshoe racing, and I'm really happy with my race. Of course, it would have been nice to podium. At the finished, I congratulated and introduced myself to Scott Hornney. It had been a good race.

RESULTS

A lot of great performances by my Trail Monster Running teammates, many of whom were running their first snowshoe race. More importantly, it really seemed that everyone who raced had a lot of fun. Snowshoe racing is tough, and it was great to see so many smiles at the finish line. Well, maybe they were smiling because it was over. It was also good to hear that no one got lost. I did question every single flag and arrow as I ran past them during the race, so even while racing I was aware of my directing duties. I was as much pleased as I was relieved.

Awards, raffle, soup, chatting (getting warm) by the fire... It all added up to a great day. Very happy to have the first race under my belt, but really it was a team effort. I had so many people pitch in so many ways that I felt like everything was under control. Ian and I headed out to pick up the course marking, and we both bonked on the way back. Seemed like a fitting end to the day.

All photos courtesy Maine Running Photos.

Training 1/16 - 1/22

2011-01-24T11:27:00.006-05:00

The mileage for the week seems a tad low with no true long run, but a deeper look will show some good quality. Only one road run, which was a tempo session, and the rest were in snowshoes or on trails. I'm definitely not hitting the speed goals of the Pfitz plan, but I'm modifying it to do what I enjoy and am certainly building strength. And, in many ways, it's those modifications that are informing my decision for my plans after the Gator Trail 50k. It's definitely dangerous to look too far beyond that race, so I'm trying to incorporate some workouts that will most closely reflect what I'll face that day, i.e. a lot of laps, to keep my focus.

Onto the numbers...

1/16, Sunday: 8.5 - 1:47:16, Bradbury Squall & White Out courses on snowshoes. Met a crew of Trail Monsters at Bradbury Mountain State Park to check out the courses for the Bradbury Mountain Snowshoe Series. Conditions were terrific with plenty of snow to good around. We broke trail on Krista's Trail and then lost the trail. We ended up running into a point, totally lost the trail, and turned around and ran back out the way we came. We decided to head back into Krista's Trail in the opposite direction eventually linking up (somehow) with the trail we made from the other direction. It wasn't how I planned it, but it made a great loop and it's always a blast to break trail on snowshoes...especially in good company. We finished the Bradbury Squall course, and then Ian and I headed out to run the Bradbury White Out course. It was a great run, and I felt strong throughout. That being said, I'd have enough when we finished the two courses, so a tour of the Bradbury Blizzard course will have to wait for another day. When I got home, I ate a quick lunch and headed out with D and the kiddo for a ski at Pineland Farms. It was our first time skiing with the kiddo in the backpack, and she loved it. Great day!

1/17, Monday: 5 - 50:13, Topsham Snowmbile Trails to Lovers' Lane. D had done this same run earlier in the day and reported fairly firm conditions. Well, since I out weigh her by almost 50 pounds, I found the conditions somewhat less firm. :) Wanted to keep this a very easy run, and that's reflected in the time. Felt good overall, though.

1/18, Tuesday: 15.25 - 2:39:00, Beautiful Loop. D was looking to get her long run in, and, hopefully, on trails. I opted to join her at Bradbury Mountain State Park to give her a tour of the Beautiful Loop, since she had never run it before. Flakes began falling as soon as we arrived at the park. Val joined us for the first 4.5 miles, which was great. This loop is awesome and really rugged with plenty of hills. Trail conditions were firmer than I expected, and we moved along well for the first few miles. We had a bit trouble finding the trail after the first crossing of Allen Rd., and the hills before Elmwood Rd. slowed D a bit. Plus, by the end of the run, there was at least an inch of new snow, slowing our progress. Pace is really irrelevant on this loop, though, because it just so much fun. I felt very strong throughout, and although not the mileage I'd like for my weekly long run, I consider it harder than 20-mile road run.

1/19, Wednesday: 11 - 1:22:08, Brunswick Bike Path, tempo run. Plan was for a 3-mile warm up, 6 miles at half marathon pace and a 2 mile cool down. Could have done without the wind, snow and snow/slush on the bike path. Not perfect conditions. Oh, and I don't know what my half marathon pace is right now, but I know what I'd like it to be, so I went with that. The hardest mile of the whole workout was the first, as I had trouble getting up to speed, and I consciously eased back a touch in the final two miles. In the end, I was only one-second off my per mile goal average for the 6 miles. Very pleased with this workout. Splits: 7:00/6:50/6:54/6:50/6:52/6:53. The only negative is that speedier runs on the road certainly tighten my hamstrings.

1/20, Thursday: Off

1/21, Friday: 5.25 - 1:04:06, Mt. Ararat snowshoe loop. Back to the same loop I ran last week, but it was a lot like starting over as two snowstorms had come and gone burying the loop once again. However, the top six inches were picture-perfect untracked powder. Just a ton of fun. Plus, I got to watch a gorgeous sunset. Unfortunately, as the sun set the temperature also dropped. The beautiful powder had stuck to me and especially my gloves. My hands iced up. Not so pleasant. Otherwise, an awesome run even if it is just a half-mile loop.

1/22, Saturday: 2.25 - 41:38, Krista's Trail, Bradbury Mountain State Park. With the first race in the Bradbury Mountain Snowshoe Series, the Bradbury Squall, coming up on Sunday, I wanted to get out and mark Krista's Trail, a .75-mile singletrack section that I assumed would be untracked. I was right. It was clear that it had snowed twice since the last people had been through there: that was the Trail Monsters on our Sunday run. I dropped the flags and shuffled along. It was slow going. Beautiful, but slow. With the loop completed, I reached the Tote Road and realized that I needed to head home so D could get to work. Daddy duty day! I'd hope to run the whole course, but I need to get that loop marked. Mission accomplished.

Totals:
Miles: 47.25
Trail: 36.25
Road: 11

My hope was to be over 50, but it's not always in the cards. Part of it is perspective, I guess, as this would have been my second biggest mileage week of 2010. My hamstrings are still tight, but have been upgraded from "Damn, that hurts" to "Kinda tight." I know that running on the roads does seem to aggravate them, even at an easy pace—just another example of "roads suck." Overall, though, I'm feeling strong, and I feel like I'm building a solid base. It's not speedy, but I think it's speedy enough. I'm halfway through my eighteen-week training plan for the Gator Trail 50k, and I certainly haven't follow the plan letter for letter, but I never expected to. Up next: first snowshoe race of the season, the Bradbury Squall.

Training 1/9-1/15

2011-01-15T11:36:00.002-05:00

This week didn't turn out quite as I had hoped due to the trials and tribulations of work, travel and general life scheduling. However, one of the keys this week was to be sure I was fully recovered from my marathon distance run at the GAC Fat Ass. (I'm pretty certain I'm not Italian.) Things seemed to be falling into place nicely early in the week, but the end of the week has left some question marks.

Onto the numbers...

1/9, Sunday: 5 - 44:31, Weldon Farm Road with D. Necessary recovery run. This run was a tale of two bodies. I actually felt relatively springy and had no muscle soreness, two great signs, but my hamstrings were awful. Strange because they hadn't bothered me all that much during the previous day's long run.

1/10, Monday: 5 - 50:50, Brunswick Town Commons. Instead of doing a medium-long run today, I wanted to be certain I was recovering properly, so I took another easy day. Unfortunately, the normally very mellow loop in the Commons was sketchy ice and ankle breakers most of the way. Even with screw shoes, the footing was treacherous, and I had to pay close attention with each step. This kept the pace very slow, and I was bummed to not be able to roll through the Commons as easily as I normally would. My hamstrings felt much better, however.

1/11, Tuesday: 6.5 total, 3k snowshoe race. Second week of Nordic Meisters was a mirror image of the first week: I ran the workout in reverse, starting with the longer warmup. My strategy was to take stock on the warmup to determine how hard I would hit the race portion. I felt great, including my hamstrings, so I decided to crank it up a notch. I ended up running 17:55 for the 3k, which was considerably faster, but I know there was a lot more in the tank. The limiting factor on my speed was not me, but rather the snow conditions. Even though the trails are firm, the snow cover is fairly lean, which means that the sidehills (of which there is a large amount) are not really filled in, making them very tricky. And, not wanting to kill myself during a Tuesday workout, I focused on staying upright rather than hitting those sections hard. It got dark during my cool down, and I was pretty chilly by the end.

1/12, Wednesday: Off. 14-16 inches of snow fell.

1/13, Thursday: 5.25 - 1:07:22, Mt. Ararat Snowshoe Loops. According to the Pfitz Plan, I probably should have hit the roads today for a medium-long, slightly up tempo effort, but with road conditions still poor from the previous day's storm, I opted for a snowshoe run. And, in reality, how could I not get on the snowshoes after such a big storm? I "groomed" a .5 loop around the Mt. Ararat trails, and after the third lap or so it became quite runnable. About 1/3 of the loop includes a snowmobile trail, so it was nice to take advantage of their "grooming" as well. Although, with so much new snow at once, the snowmobile trail is also quite soft. Great to get out in the snow, and would have done a couple more laps if I'd had more time. Worst part of the run was carrying my snowshoes home with wet gloves...brrrrrr. Do they really need to plow that .35 stretch?

1/14, Friday: 5 - 42:16, Mt. Ararat High School Loops. Back to Mt. Ararat today, but this time on the roads around the middle and high schools. I was really short on time after a day of meetings and travel for work, but before D go home with the kiddo. (I made dinner still dressed in all my running clothes.) I obviously hadn't eaten enough during the day as I felt flat and had no energy. 8-minute miles on this completely flat loop were a struggle. Plus, I'd been either sitting in a car or in meetings all day, and my hamstrings let me know. My stride felt awkward and forced. Just not a good run.

1/15, Saturday: 11 - 1:33:16, Meadow Cross + River Road. 4° when I left the house in a foul mood. I had originally hoped to get in at least 18 today, but we didn't have enough time for both D and I to get all our miles in before she headed to work and, frankly, I wasn't really up for it. Not a bad pace for a cold morning with no mojo, but I never really enjoyed myself on this run. Normally, I'll have a "this is awesome" moment on every run, but not today. Trudge, trudge, trudge. My hamstrings were a mess and are seemingly riding a roller coaster of tightness. I was completely frosted over by the end, so at least I looked hardcore.

Totals:
Miles: 38
Trail: 16.75
Road: 21.25

Like I said, decent start to the week and then clunkers the last two days. I feel like I was smart with my marathon recovery and the last two days are their own issues, but it's so tough to tell. Aside from the hamstrings, the bummerness could be mental as I didn't want the mileage to drop that much this week, and I never got a long run in. I'm hoping for more consistency. That being said, I did have two great snowshoe efforts midweek, so what those workouts lack in mileage they make up for in strength/intensity/awesomeness. Hoping for a rebound next week.

Training 1/2-1/8

2011-01-09T19:14:00.002-05:00

In the first full week of 2011, I ran more miles than any single week of 2010. It's unrelated to any type of New Year's resolution, but it does reflect what I plan to get done this year.

Onto the numbers...

1/2, Sunday: 6 - 47:48, Brunswick 6. Back from the dead after a couple days off due to a nasty cold. This loop was a new loop I'd never run before, so it was a good way to start fresh. My plan was to keep the pace really easy and was surprised it was as snappy as it was. Good sign. Still some tightness in my left hamstring.

1/3, Monday: 10 - 1:17:36, Woodside Road. This is a classic loop from Bowdoin College, but I ran it from home, doubling the distance. Not only is it classic, but it's also a bit hilly, especially from my house. Goal pace was 7:50 or so, and was pleased with the 7:44 average, especially on a very windy day. I didn't feel 100%, but I certainly didn't feel bad. My guess is that most of that feeling was mental, since I was not liking the road running. Left hamstring still tight.

1/4, Tuesday: 6.5 total, 3k snowshoe race. First week of Nordic Meisters at Great Glen Trails, and I'm happy to be able to take advantage of the snowshoe division again this year, since it's more specific for my training. My goal for the race was a tempo type effort. I ran the course easy as a warmup (12:10/mile), then slightly harder in the race. (19:38, 10:30/mile). The surface was fairly firm, but very uneven, so not as quick as it first appeared. Happy with the effort. I ran the 2.75-mile Aqueduct Loop for a cool down, a cool down with 461 of elevation gain. Good stuff. Mentally, it was very good to get off the roads. Both hamstrings a bit tight.

1/5, Wednesday: Off

1/6, Thursday: 8 - 1:02:19, Meadow Cross Road Loop. Shockingly relaxed and easy for 7:46 per mile. Uneventful run overall. Hamstrings felt much better today, which I'm attributing to two decent nights of sleep in a row.

1/7, Friday: 5 - 43:11, Highland Green Road. Blah. My original plan was for a trail run, but I ran out of time, so I hit the roads from home. Physically, I felt fine, but wasn't mentally there. No big deal as it was a scheduled easy day.

1/8, Saturday: 26.2 - 4:08:10, GAC Fat Ass at Bradley Palmer State Park. Great day on the trails. D and I headed down to my parents' house on Friday evening, so it was just a quick 15-minute drive to Bradley Palmer in the morning. We met up with Jamie and Kate right away, and off we went. My goal for the day was at least 3 laps, but I hoped to get 4, depending on the conditions. The trail surface for this event varies wildly from year to year, and on Saturday it was pretty firm with not much loose snow. However, it was very uneven with myriad "ankle breakers" along the course. So, not perfect, but they could have been a lot tougher. Screw shoes worked perfectly. D, Jamie and I ran the first two 6.2-mile laps together, and the miles came very easily. When the first two laps came and went so quickly, I was confident I'd get all four. A huge reason for the ease of the first two laps was the conversation with those two, and it felt great to be running with people. Plus, the atmosphere creating by the GAC crew for the entire event is awesome. After the second lap, D decided to back off the pace a bit, and Jamie and I headed off without her. Snow started to fall at some point in this lap and would continue to intensify for the rest of the run. It was in the third lap that I decided that I might as well tack on the extra mile and half and make it a marathon. I was feeling terrific, so I saw no reason not to go for it. (Admittedly, this was my "best case scenario" going into the day.) Jamie ran a bit of my fourth lap with me, so he could get an even 20, leaving me solo for my final miles. Once alone, I must have picked up the pace a bit, since my fourth lap was the fastest of the day. I didn't pay much attention to my watch or my splits, but we were just under and hour for each of the first three, and I pulled in the aid station at 3:54:xx on my final full lap. I asked the race officials what I needed to run to make it a full marathon and then headed off into the snow. I finished the marathon in 4:08:10, and, in all honesty, it felt very comfortable. My hamstrings were a bit tight by the end but not painful or limiting in any way. Thanks to the GAC for hosting such a great event. I ate a super roast beef, an order of chicken fingers, an order of onion rings and a Dr. Pepper post-race. Gotta refuel!

Totals:
Miles: 61.5
Trail: 32.5
Road: 29

A great week. Not much else to say. I guess this is what real training feels like. My hamstrings are a bit troublesome, but they should work themselves out with some good stretching and foam rolling.

The only glitch in my training plan is that because of my snowshoeing, upcoming snowshoe races and general distaste for road racing, I don't have any real measuring stick for my training. I'm not going to ever really know where I am. Am I slower than I think? Am I faster than I think? With no plans to run any kind of certified road race, I won't really know. It's a bit disconcerting, but I'm coming to terms with it. Yes, I'm following a plan, but I running what I want to run. (See: 1/8, Trail Marathon. That's certainly not in the plan.) Mentally, though, I'm certain this is the way to go, since the main component of the plan is to have fun with it.

Training 12/26 - 1/1

2011-01-01T20:28:00.002-05:00

Um, yeah, training...yeah...um...

This week was supposed to be a step back week, but not nearly this much of a step back. Long story short: I'm sick. I only managed to log 15.5 miles. The only decent run of this week was a snowshoe "run" on Tuesday in the fresh snow. The rest were garbage miles or no miles. *grumble*

However, this week, I did go over 1500 miles for the year. Not a lot for a lot of people, but a significant jump for me from 2008 (1053) and 2009 (1118). And, since I probably didn't run 500 miles combined from 1998 - 2007, I'll take it. That being said, I planning on even more in 2011.

And, I guess that's my wrap up post for 2010. The way I'm thinking about my training right now, I'm not really looking back. I have ALOT of work to do, so I'm focused on the year ahead. (Of course, it would be nice if I could shake this damn cold/plague and actually train.) I posted my race schedule (so far) at right, and I hope to add to it. As I mentioned, the Gator Trail 50k is my focus right now, and I'm already signed up for MDI in the fall. I'm not certain how I'm going to approach MDI yet: whether it will be a fun run or a goal race. I'll make this decision as I get into the summer, which will be informed by my spring "endeavors," which will be decided based on my results/recovery from Gator Trail, which will be determined by my training. Like I said, I better shake this cold...

Till We Meet in Hell and Training 12/19 - 12/25

2010-12-26T20:45:00.002-05:00

Week 5 of my official training plan. All systems go...

Onto the numbers...

12/19, Sunday - 10.5 - 1:30:00, Till We Meet in Hell. Trail Monster Valerie had the tremendous idea to host a run/race on some of the trails she runs regularly at USM in Gorham. She mapped out a 1.15-mile course and invited/challenged us to run it as many times as possible. The course was much tougher than I had expected with some steep drops and climbs in and out of some gullies, plenty of twists and turns and some solid climbing. Oh, and really, really fun. My plan was pretty simple: run hard. At the start, I headed out behind Blaine and Andy but could only keep them in sight for about 1.5 laps. I ran mostly alone, except when I was lapping people, which seemed to be mostly on the even numbered laps and barely saw anyone on the odd numbered laps. Strange. After the first lap, I set a goal to keep all the laps under 10 minutes. Mission accomplished, and I was very pleased with my effort. I got in 10.5 miles and finished third overall. Valerie and Jeff also devised a handicap system, which I could not even begin to understand. I liked the system, though, because I also finished third with the handicap and took home some beer. Post-run, we all gathered at Sebago Brewing in Gorham for food and more good times.

Here are my splits:
Lap 1: 9:38
Lap 2: 9:45
Lap 3: 9:30
Lap 4: 9:51
Lap 5: 9:58
Lap 6: 9:51
Lap 7: 9:42
Lap 8: 9:48
Lap 9: 9:29
Final .2: 2:25

12/20, Monday: 5 - 43:45, Brunswick Town Commons. My quads were sore, but despite that my legs will felt springy even with the previous day's effort. Nice, easy recovery run.

12/21, Tuesday: 9 - 1:12:19, Highland Green Gold Course. Crazy, warm weather made me cranky, but the run was solid. Kept a solid pace for two laps of the cart paths of the golf course. This loop would become a staple of my training, if there wasn't so much golf being played out there.

12/22, Wednesday: 4 - 37:09, Powerlines. Some snow finally came to Topshizzum, so I found an excuse to finally use the screw shoes. I wasn't really into this run. Just felt off and disinterested.

12/23, Thursday - Off

12/24, Friday: 18 - 2:25:32, Georgtown, Rowley & Newbury. I had originally planned to go long on Thursday, but weather and scheduling knocked me off that. Thankfully, I was able to get it in while visiting my parents for Christmas. Admittedly, I was not really sure how this run was going to go, but I turned out great. I was a bit creaky for the first two or three miles, but I really found my rhythm after that. Legitimately, felt better at mile 15 than mile 3. Really happy with how this run went.

12/25, Saturday: Off, Christmas

Totals
Miles: 46.5
Trail: 28.5
Road: 18

Another good week, but I'm looking forward to a step back week this week. I've been handling the bump in mileage and intensity pretty well, but I know that some rest will be good. I'm also really looking forward to getting out on my snowshoes.

Dead, Alive or Indian Food?

2010-12-20T20:15:00.003-05:00

Ken Ober loves that reference.

Well, the answer to the question is that I am, in fact, alive. Very much so, but life, work and thankfully, training have trumped blogging. On the life end, the kiddo continues to grow, do more things and, generally, be excessively cute...when she's not being...well...a kid. Work is...well...work. And, training is going very well. So, here's a post about it. Maybe now, my wife and Jamie will get off my back about being a bad blogger.

Since I last posted, much has happened on the training front. Initially, things took a turn for the worst as over the span of three weeks, I ran a total of 45 miles. I was ill, and I just couldn't shake it. (See the aforementioned kiddo.) By the middle of November, I was able to get back to our regularly scheduled program, and then starting the week of November 21, everything changed.

That week marked week one of an 18-week training program. This represents a major paradigm shift for me. From my return to running in late 2007 through May of this year, I had a "it's enough as long as I get out the door" mentally. Well, at Pineland, it was evident that that attitude wasn't going to cut it. I adjusted my training somewhat over the summer by upping the mileage and mixing up the type of runs. The results were positive, culminating in my performance at the Pisgah 50k. At this race, I proved that I could complete an ultra, and it was, in reality, a huge relief. But, I was really just flying blind, and upon further reflection, I know I can flat out run stronger. The only way I see to do this is to "train for real." I picked the brains of both Jeff and Jamie after their stellar fall marathon performances, and I picked my next goal race. I'll be racing (not running) the Gator Trail 50k at Lake Waccamaw State Park in Lake Waccamaw, North Carolina on March 26. (Doubles as a visit to D's parents.) For a training plan, I'm using Pete Pfitzinger's Advanced Marathoning, courtesy of Jamie. Hence, the 18-week schedule. And, away I go.

Now, Pfitzinger's plan is great, but it doesn't account for trail running and snowshoe racing. Not a chance I'd be dropping either of those from my schedule, so I'm doing some heavy modification. But, that only makes sense, since I'm training for a trail 50k, not a road marathon. However, I'm confident that the basics of his plan will work for my race and that the schedule of long runs and speedwork will pay huge dividends.

So, how's it going, so far? It's going very well, and I've easily moved past the "just get out the door" mentality. In fact, when I missed a planned run, I get cranky about it. I'm adjusting well to the mileage increase and have been pleasantly surprised with how fresh I've felt.

Here are some highlights:
Week one (32.5 miles): This was Thanksgiving week, and we were actually in North Carolina visiting D's parents. We took a morning to check out the Gator Trail course, which was a great move. I've had something to visualize whenever I've been feeling less than great on a run. For the 50k, we'll run 6 laps of the 5.2 mile course, which is at least 90% trail with a one short road piece and one boardwalk. It's fairly flat, but it does get sandy in a few places, which will be tricky (read: slow and annoying). Unfortunately, this was the only trail run of the week, and my left achilles was sore.

Week two (35.5 miles): I arranged two back-to-back off days to rest my achilles and that was all it needed to feel fine. Long run for the week was 12.5 miles on the Cathance River Trails and beyond, through which I discovered a new trail.

Week three (45.75 miles): Big jump, but with no achilles issues, I went for it. I struggled through a 4-mile tempo effort in the wind and snow on Monday, but the numbers were right what I wanted. Put in a solid 14 miles on the roads later in the week. Unusual for me to run that long, so far out from my goal race, but, like I said, paradigm shift.

Week four (42.25 miles): Missed a day due to work and travel, or I would have been closer to 50. However, all these miles were on trails, so the difficulty quotient more than makes up for it. Again, flexing and stretching the Pftiz Plan. I bookended the week with two very hilly runs, one at Bradbury Mountain State Park and one at the Green Hills Preserve. Highlight of the week was a 14.25-mile "Double" Cathance run.

I'm now in week five and still rolling. The only complaint is my ankles/top of my feet. I have some soreness here throughout the day, but I, generally, don't feel it when I run. This week is my last build up week before an easy step back week, so my hope is that the rest will resolve it.

So, that's the big news. I've set some pretty big goals for myself for this race, and as the training progresses, I'll find out just how much of a reach my "A" goal is. But, no, I'm not divulging those goals here. I may outline them pre-race, but you'll definitely hear how I stacked up in my race report. Right now, I'm just enjoying the training, and looking forward to snowshoe season. And, of course, beyond the Gator Trail 50k, I have a few ideas planned out as well. Those will depend on my training and race recovery...for another post.

In the meantime...here is the most requested tune in our house:

Training Week 10/17 - 10/26 & Wolfe's Neck Trek 5k Race Report

2010-10-25T21:14:00.002-04:00

Two stones with one bird...

Onto the numbers...

10/17, Sunday: 4.25 - ~30:00, MDI Marathon Course. After cheering for Jamie at a couple locations along the course, D dropped me off at mile 22. She took off, so Samantha could get a nap, and I ran along the course. This strategy gave me the opportunity to squeeze an easy run in, cheer for random fast marathon types and wait for Jamie at mile 24.5, a.k.a the middle of the final big hill on the course. Yelled my brains out as he went by and trailed him to the finish. He rocked it and got his BQ!

10/18, Monday: 4.25 - 40:25, Acadia Carriage Roads, Witch Hole Pond Loop. D needed to get in a long run, and what better place than Acadia's carriage roads? We bundled Samantha up, and I pushed her in the B.O.B. for the beginning of D's run. Since I was pushing the stroller, we took it very easy. D went on her way, I drove Samantha around for a nap, then we met her at the end of the run. Off to Two Cats for second breakfast!

10/19, Tuesday: 9 - 1:20:33, Cathance River Trails. Perfect weather. Broad spectrum of leaves on the trees and on the trails. Autumn in Maine is unbeatable. Aside from getting pretty hungry by the end, this was an awesome run.

10/20, Wednesday: 5 - 45:28, Homeplace. My timing was bad again today, so I was pretty hungry by the end once again. Body felt fine, though.

10/21, Thursday: 6.25 - 58:49, Granite State Snowshoe Championships course at Great Glen Trails. The weather was pretty gruesome: low 40's, windy and misty. Plus, it was getting dark. I think my mood was directly affected by the weather as it really took me a while to get into a groove. However, by the time I reached the big climb on the Aqueduct Loop, I was feeling good. This trail just has some kind of good energy. I zipped down the long downhill and was even a bit speedy on the singletrack despite the darkness.

10/22, Friday - Off

10/23, Saturday: Wolfe's Neck Trek 5k

Last year, I ran this race about a month after Samantha was born with a "let's just see where I am" attitude. In many ways, my attitude was the same this year. Sort of. Last year, I was tentative. This year, I was confident. Well, as confident as you can be when you've done ZERO speed work and haven't done any "real" training since training for a 50k. So, yeah, why wouldn't I do well?

D had to work, so originally, Valerie was going to come to the race and watch Samantha while I ran. Unfortunately, Samantha woke up with the fountain of snot in full effect, so we didn't think it was a good idea to have her out in the cold. D offered to take her to work for the morning, which was awesome. Valerie came to the race anyway to cheer for me, which was also awesome. Well, I'd better be awesome, too. Pressure was on.

Looking around at the field, I saw two kids pull up in a car with a Bowdoin sticker, and they looked young and lean. Hated them immediately. I also spotted a guy I know who is from Gorham, NH, Curtis. He runs the series at Great Glen Trails, and I knew he was faster than me. I assumed there would also be a few other speedy folks. All that being said, I still felt confident. I took my spot on the line and took it out hard. Well, hard for me. One of the Bowdoin kids came right up next to me, and after 100 yards pulled ahead and away. That was really the last I'd see of him. Then at about 400 meters, Curtis came up alongside and moved on by. I shadowed him for a bit, but he was also soon gone. I kept waiting to hear more footsteps, but I never did. It was a time trial for the rest of the race.

The two-lap course is really fun, but it's also definitely longer than 5k. They shortened it a touch from last year, but it's at least 3.25, maybe longer. It's primarily gravel roads with a few sharp corners through a campground, plus one trail section that consists of some very steep, but very short, rooty hills and three wooden bridges. The trail section is probably 200 yards per lap, but it really slows things down. Oh, and it adds to the fun. No real hills to speak of, but with the wind on Saturday it felt like you were running uphill in a couple places, especially on the "main" road that makes up the end of the first lap and the finishing stretch. Chatting with a couple folks post-race, we all had the same thought: when the wind was in our face, we were running into it, but we were sheltered when it was at our backs. We should have lobbied to run it in the opposite direction.

I'd done a slightly longer warmup then I would usually do to ensure that everything was loose, and this was a good decision. Just about the time that Curtis went by me, I thought to myself, "I'm running as fast as I possibly can." It was apparent that my top speed is not actually speed at all. So, there I was alone and trying to run all out for another almost 3 miles. I would have liked a little company, but I got a look back at fourth place shortly into the second lap, and I saw a comfortable cushion. Although near the end of the race, I used that large cushion as motivation because getting run down would have been really pathetic.

So, I pushed it as hard as I could. My only strategy for the race was to never back off. With no speed work coming in, it was really a more a test of suffering. I held it together pretty well. My back cramped along with something in my right shoulder. Every time they twinged, I thought, "Dude, it's a 5k. It's almost over." I started feeling like that and thinking that about 5 minutes into the race.

Crossed the line in 20:53, which was a little slower than I had hoped for, but 1:56 faster than last year. I was third overall and first in my age group. Actually I was my age group.

RESULTS
(Awesome typo in my last name. I'm FATT!!!!)

7.5 total. 5k+: 20:53, third place overall. 2.75 warm up / 1.5 cool down.

Totals
Miles: 36.25
Trail: 27.75
Road: 8.5

Very solid, non-serious training week. Onward.

TUNES!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1o65yrPpqkg

Training Week 10/10 - 10/16

2010-10-18T21:17:00.002-04:00

And, we're back...

I haven't written a training post in a few weeks because, well, I haven't really been training. I took the extra/third week to ensure I was fully recovered from Pisgah, and it was the right choice. Plus, I was really recovering from two races: Pisgah and the Bruiser, so that third easy week was just what I needed. I don't feel as if I put enough mileage in the bank prior to the 50k to recover quickly, so it was nice to have the luxury to just cruise for another week. Nothing spectacular, impressive or fast in my training this week, just easy mileage, but I'm just in a rebuilding phase right now.

Onto the numbers...
10/10, Sunday: 5 - 45:42, Brunswick Town Commons w/ D. My parents and grandparents, who were in town for Samantha's birthday party, offered to watch the kiddo while D and I snuck out for a run. Sweet! The weather was nice, and we enjoyed an easy cruise from Bowdoin through the Commons. It felt very appropriate on our 11-year wedding anniversary.

10/11, Monday: 5.5 - 49:24, Pennelville Roads w/ D. 2 barefoot laps around Pennelville soccer field. D had a long run on tap, and we once again had grandparents to babysit! This time it was D's parents, so I was able to join her. I opted to tagalong for the middle miles of her 12-mile run, so I could test out my new road shoes, which felt great. I may have been guilty of pushing D on a slightly faster pace than she needed, but we were having fun, enjoying the scenery and chatting away. The views of the ocean at Simpsons Point, combined with the foliage, were spectacular. Maine rules. The only negative of the run was the wind. As we neared the water it really picked up, so I offered to act as a windbreak for D. I didn't want her to waste any energy. I felt great and really wanted to run longer, but I didn't want to push it in the new shoes, which have less support than "recommended" for my particular gait. So, instead, I tried running barefoot for the first time ever. Yeah, I know, makes zero sense. I did two very easy laps around a soccer field and really enjoyed it. I'm hoping to incorporate a couple easy barefoot/minimal stints each week to build a little strength.

10/12, Tuesday: 5.5 - 48:40, TMR TNR at Twin Brook. A rare TNR appearance for me. In the morning, my ankles felt a touch sore after my barefoot session the previous day, but all was fine by the time I hit the trails in the evening. We had a large group, and I didn't know everyone. But, it was great to get out with the crew, and the sprint lines are a fun addition that I should incorporate into some of my solo runs. Of course, the TNR starts at 6:00, so it was dark about halfway through the run. It was at this point that I realized the batteries in my headlamp were toast. Oops. I just mooched off Jeff's light the rest of the way. This was only an issue during the sprint lines when he attempted to shake his "No Wheels" moniker. Plus, I had to stay behind him, so I could use the light...yeah, that's it.

10/13, Wednesday: 5 - 42:41, Homeplace Loop. Felt a bit sluggish, but the time was pretty quick for me on this loop.

10/14, Thursday: 5 - 43:41, Random loop at Great Glen Trails w/ Eli. Very rare occasion in which my training meshed with Eli's, but it was cool to go for an easy run with him. My right Achilles felt a bit tight, which I'm attributing to the barefoot session and the sprint lines.

10/15, Friday: Off

10/16, Saturday: 8 - 1:01:45, MDI, Carriage Roads from Jordan Pond to Bubble Pond, return to Jordan Pond on the Park Loop Road. D and I headed to MDI on Saturday morning to watch the MDI marathon on Sunday...as if we needed an excuse. My route was completely ill-conceived, but it turned out fine. I took about 4 seconds to scan the map and figured that a loop on the Carriage Roads would be 5 or 6. Well, it was considerably longer, which became clear at what I thought was the one third point, when the Garmin read "4.38 miles." Oops. I opted to take the shorter route back on the Park Loop Road. Running on the Carriage Roads in Acadia is the best thing in the world. Unbeatable. That's all I kept thinking, even though it was cold, rainy and windy. They really are perfect, even in gross weather. Running on the Park Loop Road...not so much. The road is fine, but the shoulder is nonexistent. Not so much fun. Because of the Jekyll & Hyde nature of this run, it turned into a bit of a progression run. I was easily zipping along having fun on the Carriage Roads but just wanted to get it done once I hit the road. The pace was quicker than I normally like for an easy run, but I just went with it. While I was running, D was driving around the island making sure Samantha got a nap (we couldn't check into our room yet), and, unfortunately, she hadn't returned by the time I returned to Jordan Pond. I didn't want to stand in the rain, already soaked, not knowing when she would arrive, so I tacked on another mile. No big deal as I felt good, and she arrived soon after I finished. My Achilles was a little tight at the outset, but never really an issue.

Totals:
Miles: 34
Trail: 20.5
Road: 13.5

I'm considering that a good "first week" of training, when I'm not training for anything specific and just looking to easily build my mileage back up. I'm playing the next few weeks by ear, just going on good runs and mixing it up. The real focus is just fun. Looking forward to it. Real training begins...well...I'll let you know.

Shout Outs!
Shout Out Number One goes to Jeff for his awesome marathon debut at the Maine Marathon: 3:00:36. The most impressive feat of the day was changing his own shoes and socks post-race. I like to support my friends, but not that much.

Shout Out Number Two goes to Jamie for reaching his goal of qualifying for the Boston Marathon at the Mount Desert Island Marathon this weekend: 3:14:33. For those of you that don't know, MDI is probably the toughest road marathon course east of the Mississippi. It's crazy hilly. Now, he'll finally shut up about needing to BQ at MDI...blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...

Both races were a blast to watch, and I was glad to be a smart part of both of their successes. I've already told them both that I'm not driving around Boston, however. They're on their own.

Tunes!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwaOM6BTOiQ

More Pisgah Thoughts & Recovery

2010-10-02T14:32:00.003-04:00

Despite my Tolstoy-esque race report, I do indeed have more thoughts about my Pisgah experience.

First of all, I'm a bit embarrassed I forgot to mention the race directors. They put on a great show. Everything about the race runs very smoothly and efficiently in a relaxed, low-key atmosphere. Perfect. The trails were very well marked, and I never went more than a minute or so without seeing a marker. The aid stations were placed perfectly, and the volunteers were terrific. The post-race barbecue, included in the very modest race fee, was also great. Just a well-run event all around. I highly recommend it, and I can't wait until next year.

My only complaint was the delay in posting the results. They didn't go up until Thursday following the race. I can see Monday or Tuesday, but Thursday is just too long.

Even with time to think about it, I'm still very pleased with my race, but, of course, I've already thought of ways I can go faster. The first that sticks out in my mind is my aid station urgency. One of the biggest mistakes I made in my first 50k was blowing through most of the aid stations. In this race, I did exactly the opposite. I took my time at each aid station. In fact, I took too much time. Conservatively, I estimate that I "wasted" 5 minutes in the aid stations. I didn't have that "get in, get out" mentality. I know that I can be quicker without sacrificing getting what I need. Again, I still have a lot to learn about ultras, but this is definitely an area I can improve upon.

Two weeks later, I'm still in recovery mode. Admittedly, I'm not feeling as good as I would like. The good news is that with no races on the immediate horizon, I don't have plans for any serious training until the beginning of November. I'm certainly not feeling bad, but I'm just not feeling fully recovered. I'm a touch tired and my legs have felt a bit sluggish on my runs. No spring in the step. I'd hoped to feel fine after these two weeks, but that's just not the case. Another very easy week is in order.

With that in mind, I'm not totally surprised. I need to keep reminding myself that I'm actually recovering from two races: Pisgah and the Bruiser, which was just a week prior. That's a pretty tough stretch for me. Additionally, I didn't really have the mileage base to bounce right back. My longest run in my training cycle for Pisgah was 17 miles, and I only had one week at 50 miles. That's not a lot. On top of all that, I also had a bit of a cold last week. Not a great recipe for recovery.

You know what does help recovery? The Church.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-mQyRuHIuA

Pisgah Mountain 50k - Race Report

2010-09-20T19:52:00.002-04:00

"I feel so extraordinary /
Something's got a hold on me /
I get this feeling I'm in motion /
A sudden sense of liberty."
- New Order, "True Faith"

As I sit here typing this, I'm sore. Legs, back, arms. They're all sore. And, wow, I ran an ultramarathon yesterday. Me. It was hard. Very hard. I had a lot of support, and even when I was running alone, I wasn't alone. It was an amazing day. Hopefully, I can put it into words.

I left my house after lunch on Saturday for the drive to Chesterfield, NH. Until I looked into this race, I had no idea Chesterfield existed. After a stop to pick up a pizza for dinner, I set up my tent at the end of Horseshoe Road in Pisgah State Park. This "unofficial" campsite was actually right on the course, about 1.5 miles, so there were a few other runners there with me, including Kate and Julie from Maine and 75 year-old Gene from Illinois, who was hoping to convince the race director to let him start early. "I'm pretty slow," he said. The conversation flowed freely until the moon fully rose and it was time to get some rest.

Race day morning arrived cool and foggy. Perfect running weather. But, I wished I had been able to sleep in. I was too nervous to be up at 6:15am for an 8:45 race start. I took my time packing up my tent hoping to keep my mind off the day' activities, but I eventually headed down the road to the race start at about 7:00. On way down the road, I saw figure shuffling up the hill through the mist. It was Gene. He and his huge smile were on their way. I wished him well, and told him I would see him later. At registration, I joked with the volunteers that it was decision time. I slid to the right and picked my number from the pile labeled "50k." Yup, this was real.

This was not my first 50k. My first was at Pineland Farms in 2009. It was a disaster. From that disaster, I can say that I learned a lot, and it served me well on Sunday. Still, though, I was nervous, but I wasn't alone. I chatted with Jim Johnson a bit at the start, and it's good to see that even top guys get just as nervous. (They just beat me by 90 minutes.) I made one final call to D, or as Jim said, "Put the emergency contact on standby," and headed over to the start line.

It was still cool as the race started, and I was glad I had my brand spanking new Nathan running sleeves. I placed myself well back in the pack, since my plan was to go out slowly, very slowly. Luckily, the course lends itself to that plan because after a short downhill, the course climbs up and up and up the road to the actual park entrance. In fact, once the road turns from pavement to gravel one hill is so steep that most of the field, myself included, was walking. A mile into the race, and I'm already walking. Well, I wanted to go out slowly. At about this time, I started chatting with three guys, Jay, Nick and Chris, and a few minutes later Jay and I were swapping new parent horror stories. Diapers are a good way to not think about running 31 miles.

I had two major concerns going into the race: the downhills and my fueling. Well, just after we left the road, I was confronted with the first: a long, fairly steep downhill. I really focused on slowing myself down in order to save my quads for later. I was definitely afraid of the "too much, too fast, too soon" that can lead to disasters in ultras. I'd learned that the hard way last year. Easy, easy, easy. At the bottom of the hill was the last major of decision of the day: straight for 23k, left for 50k. I felt very comfortable turning left and had a sense that I would have a good day.

My time goal for the day was set off of my performance at Pineland last year. Knowing that I was in better shape and better prepared, I was confident that I could PR for the distance: sub 5:17. So, my goal pace was 10:00 per mile with hopes I could remain steady the entire way. After a mix of tricky singletrack and very mellow woods road running, Jay, Nick, Chris and I rolled through the aid station at 4.8 miles in 46:30ish. I was right on pace (OK, slightly ahead) and feeling very comfortable. A quick right, a quick left, and then, Oh my...this is Pisgah.

Turning onto the Dogwood Swamp Trail the real test began. I did not expect this. The trail went up. Steeply. I walked a lot. So much for right on pace. Even when the trail was runnable it was tricky. It became clear that anything that wasn't a woods road in the park received very little traffic. The treadway was uneven, leaf-covered (Is it fall already?), rocky and rooty. Don't get me wrong, it was good, clean, old-fashioned trail running goodness, but it was more than I was expecting. Somehow the difficulty of the course had eluded me in my pre-race research. That being said, all day I kept thinking, "Man, this course is hard," but I never got down about it. It was always more of an observation.

The Dogwood Swamp Trail led us to the aid station at 8.4 miles. I took a little extra time here to refill one of my bottles with HEED. I opted to wear my Nathan Elite 2V Plus (which is awesomely tremendous in every way) since the aid stations were frequent. Plus, the pockets on the front are like lunchboxes—plenty of room for my gels, blocks and bars. As I mentioned, I was very focused on my nutrition for this race. And, in many ways, I felt this race was going to come down to my nutrition. I worked on it a lot this summer and got some great advice from D: eat every 30 minutes. This is exactly what I did, and this plan worked flawlessly. My energy was great all day, and my stomach felt fine. I left the aid station at 1:27ish with 2 fig bars in hand, executing my plan a few minutes early. As it turned out, the timing was perfect because the next half mile or so is nothing but up—a steep, twisty, paved (must have made sense at the time) up. Since I can walk and chew at the same time, I downed the two fig bars and half of a Berries GoMega Odwalla Bar—not a super, hardcore energy bar, but it's all about taste and texture. These puppies are super tasty and easy to chew.

Snack gone, hill finished, it was time to run again, and I soon caught up to Nick and Chris (Jay was far ahead) who were now running (walking, really) with two women on a very rough singletrack section. One of the women (unfortunately, I never got her name) mentioned that she had helped clear this trail and was running the race for the eighth time. That's awesome! It was great to have her course insight for a little bit: "It gets really rugged through here," she yelled from behind. She wasn't lying. It was in this section that Chris pulled off with intestinal issues: "My stomach is doing loop-da-loops around my ass." Easily the quote of the day. I wished him well and set my sights on catching the other woman, Christine. We were moving downhill, and she was making it look easy. I hate people like that. A few moments later I saw a tall figure shuffling along. It was Gene! We greeted each other cordially, but it was the last time I would see Gene all day. Based on spirit alone I know he finished, but I had to hit the road before he crossed the line. At this point, it had taken him 3:45 to cover about 10 miles.

At 2:00, I downed a gel, as was the rule. I put the empty packet in my shorts. Two seconds later on a nondescript, fairly flat piece of trail I rolled my left ankle. Hard. I'd been feeling the urge to pee for a little while, so I took this as a sign to pull over. But, when I started running again, it wasn't pretty. My run was more of a limp, and I stumbled into the 12-mile aid station. I was very worried that my race might be over. All I could think of was my buddy Jamie's heartbreak at Western States in 2009 when one injury lead to another. I asked the aid station volunteers if they had any spare ankles. They did not. Instead, I went with a cup of Gatorade and headed up the trail, leaving the aid station at 2:04:00.

Luckily for me, the next section of trail, the Old Chesterfield Road, was the smoothest running of the whole race. Perfect to get the blood flowing to the ankle and the stride back to normal. Perhaps it would be OK. Nick had passed me while I was peeing, and he and Christine were running together. I soon caught them, and it was great to have some company to keep my mind off my ankle. It worked as I checked it each time the trail got rocky, but it felt fine. It wasn't issue for the rest of the race.

At 13.5 miles, the course takes a sharp left, and I got a bit ahead of Nick and Christine. I was feeling very good and had a notion to just run a bit faster. I was enjoying their company, but I had to run my race. Something inside just told me to get moving. I was alone on Reservoir Trail and enjoying running up the very runnable hills. The trail was still rugged, but I barely noticed. When the trail topped out, there was a terrific view of Mt. Monadnock off to the left. All I could think of was how lucky I was to be out there. It was a total runner's high moment. I was really enjoying this race, and that song was in my head: "I feel so extraordinary..." (It may have been out loud for a little bit, too. Good thing I was alone.)

My 2:30 snack break came, and I broke out some Clif Shot Bloks, Black Cherry. (YUM!) Normally, I'd eat half the package, but for some reason, I decided to down all 6 pieces. My stomach felt great, so I figured the extra calories wouldn't hurt. The trail was as rugged as ever, and I was alternating running and walking as the terrain dictated. I thought it was strange that I hadn't caught anyone and no one had caught me. It was in this stretch that I understood why people run with music of sort. Granted, I had New Order pounding in my head, which is completely awesome, but I could have gone with the real thing. With that in mind, I was pleased to have some human contact when I rolled into the aid station at 17 miles. "Where is everyone," I asked. It was also at this point that I realized that time goals were out the window. I arrived at the aid station in 3:00-flat when I had hoped to have already covered 20 miles in that time. But, with the terrain I'd been through, I still knew I was running well. No need to start sprinting with 14 miles to go. So, I lingered here enjoying the conversation, the Gatorade and the generic brand Cheez-its. I filled one bottle with Gatorade for variety, and obviously lingered quite a while as Christine and two other runners rolled in. Chomping on an Odwalla bar, I headed out alone only to be passed by one of those runners, Frank, a few moments later. He was moving very well, and I doubted I would see him again. I did not, but he was also the last runner to pass me all day.

The section of trail from mile 17 to mile 20 is the hardest of the entire course. The Pisgah Mountain Trail is serious. Seriously, PUD-filled. A PUD, or pointless up and down, is both physically and mentally demoralizing. "Oh good, I'm at the top of the ridge. Oh, I'm going down. Now, I'm going back up, and now down, and now up, and now down, and OHHHHH COME ON!!!!!" This was the Pisgah Mountain Trail. I did get another great view of Mt. Monadnock, and I laughed at how less grateful I was at this point. This put me in a better place, and I kept pushing. This was the hardest section of trail, and I was anxious to put it behind me. At the time, I didn't know it was the hardest section of trail, but I just knew that it couldn't get any worse. I kept waiting to see the Kilburn Loop enter from the left meaning that I would only have about a .5 mile to the aid station. Finally, that point came, and soon after I caught another runner.

"Dude, what was up with that section?"
"Don't worry, that's the hardest of the entire course."

That was all I needed to hear. My plan/hope going into the race was to feel good when I got to the 20-mile aid station, run the 5.5 mile Kilburn Pond Loop hard, then push as hard as possible/hang on the last 6 miles. When I asked, one of the aid station workers said I could skip the Kilburn Loop for $10, and I was wishing I had some cash. Instead, I headed off on the loop with 3:37 on the watch determined to stick with the plan. And I did. I felt great. The first part of the loop was mostly downhill, and I took full advantage. I passed one runner, and was extraordinary once again. At the bottom of the loop, the trail turns sharply left and begins the climb back out. This part was less fun. I downed a gel at 4:00 (of course), but I was feeling it. I was in a "bad patch." Another runner appeared in front of me, and I focused on trying to catch him. I'd get close, but then as if he could smell me (totally possible), he'd pull away. I did eventually pass him, and he said "I could play a tune on my IT-band right now." Bummer. I wished him well, and I thought, "My body feels great, why should I be down?" A couple minutes later I caught another runner. "Man, I'm looking forward to finishing," he said dourly. I was in a much better place than him. Keep pushing.

I arrived back at the aid station at 4:28. Fifty-one minutes for the Kilbrun Loop. Only 6 miles to go. Just one thing: that had hurt. I figured that water would be enough to get me to the finish, so I dumped the couple ounces of HEED I had remaining, grabbed a couple pretzels and headed out at exactly 4:30. One hour to break 5:30. This is really going to hurt.

My Lemon Lime Shot Bloks, another full package, as I ran out of the aid station were delicious. My stomach was still right there with me, but what was that twinge in my right hamstring? Hmmm... Just after the sharp right turn before Rt. 63, a turn that everyone said was easy to miss...it wasn't due to terrific marking, I passed another runner who was hurting. "It's just not my day," he said. I encouraged him to keep moving, hoping I could do the same myself. A couple moments later, they started. My left quad. My right hamstring. My groin. I was cramping. Badly. Cramps hurt. I wanted to punch a tree kind of hurt. I'd cramped before, but only at the end of runs. I wasn't entirely certain what to do, but in my exhaustion all I could think of was "electrolytes." I had another serving of HEED with me, and I dumped it in my bottle with the water. Somehow, I managed to do this without stopping, so it was a small victory. The cramps would come and go for the rest of the race, and each time I was afraid I'd end up dropping to the trail and waiting for the helicopter (or coroner). I'd like to avoid this in the future, so any advice would be greatly appreciated.

I was now on the Davis Hill Trail, if you could call it that. It was a trail in the sense that the large trees were removed, but the treadway was a mess. Nothing was even. I was no longer thankful to be out there. I was done. I felt far from extraordinary. Amazingly, however, I was still passing people. I caught one runner who was walking (on a flat section), and it encouraged me to know that I was still running. In fact, the cramps subsided when I was running. They'd crop back up when I was walking up the hills. So, 29 miles into the race, I was running up the hills. That hurt less. Ultramarathons are hard.

I spotted another runner up ahead, and it was clear he was really struggling on the downhills. It turned out to be Jay. I hadn't seen him since mile 8. More than 20 miles later, we were back together again. No talk of diapers this time as I moved past him just before the gate that dumped us out onto Winchester Road, aka the most painful downhill ever. I'd left the park and was on the homestretch, but the gravel road was absolutely quad crumbling. I just wanted it to level out. I knew the finish was close, but I really just wanted the road to be flat. I would have gone an extra mile on a flat road. I kept thinking about 5:30, too. If I kept pushing I could make it. I knew that if I walked, I may never start running again. That road was awful.

Then it got worse. Shortly after it turned to pavement, it also went uphill. That was cruel. Then it leveled, but then it went up again. That was twice as cruel. However, I could see the Stop sign. I knew that the race was basically over at the Stop sign. I was about to finish an ultramarathon. My main goal coming into the race was to finish strong, unlike Pineland in 2009. I was doing that. It was ugly, but I was running pretty well. I wasn't stumbling and shuffling. I was running. Then, I was done.

I crossed the line and lost it. I was a blubbering idiot. I was a little girl. The moment I hit the chute, I didn't have to focus, and all the emotions came pouring out. A volunteer took the tag from my number and asked 3 or 4 times if I was all right.

"I'm fine. I'm great. That was really hard. Really, though, I'm great." Then I cried some more. It took me about a minute to pull it together. Then I laughed. It was over.

I congratulated Jay as he crossed the line a couple minutes later. I chatted with other finishers. I called D and barely kept it together. I'm pretty sure all I said was "I'm alive. It was hard." over and over.

My time was 5:25:13. I finished in 27th place.
(Official results aren't posted yet.)

I changed. I ate soup and hamburgers and hot dogs. I watched other runners finish. Christine came in. The guys I'd passed in the final miles came in. Nick and Chris came in together. Kate finished. Julie finished. A lot of other people finished. As I looked around, I saw a lot of regular people. I was in the company of a lot of regular people who had done something extraordinary. These people would pass you on the street, and you wouldn't give them a second look. But, they all completed an ultramarathon. That's amazing. I was very proud to be among them.

Bradbury Bruiser - Race Report

2010-09-16T21:07:00.003-04:00

This race report could be very short: I ran hard. It hurt. I was pleased with the result. That's pretty much how it went. It was another great day at Bradbury Mountain State Park, but, of course, I need to elaborate.

First, a bit of background. In 2007, D and I ran this race after first ruling it out, but then being "forced" to do it when two friends came to stay with us in order to run. I had only been running again for a couple months, and I really surprised myself that day. It all basically snowballed from there, and here I am just a couple days away from my second ultramarathon (more on that later). We missed the race in 2008 due to our vacation schedule, and last year was an utter disaster. Needless to say, I was really looking forward to racing this year, especially on the heels of my successful Scuffle and Breaker.

Race day arrived with the usual early start to get registration and the start/finish area ready to go. Perfect running weather for the race, and we had another strong turnout. Things were going very smoothly, so I had time for a short, 1/2 mile or so, warmup with D. Ian, our fearless leader, flawlessly rolled through the pre-race instructions, and we were off.

My strategy for the race was pretty simple: get out conservatively quick and relax through the Island trail, which is too technical to worry about pacing or place, and many people waste a lot of energy jostling for position and sprinting ahead in this first section. Mission accomplished. I let a number of people go by me in this section while I really used it as a warmup. No one would pass me for the remainder of the race. I felt very easy and comfortable when I exited the Island Trail, surprised to see my watch read just under 15:00—a couple minutes faster than expected.

Part two of the strategy was to use the less twisty sections over the next four or so miles to find my rhythm and start moving along. One of the drawbacks of my plan was that after going into the singletrack one step behind Jamie, he had put a good chunk of distance on me in those first 15 minutes. As I passed Ian shortly after exiting the Island Trail, I wished him well and said, "I need to go catch Jamie." I knew he was out there, but I wasn't sure where. I briefly pulled two guys along through Ginn, but my course knowledge and constant, but subtle, increasing of the pace left me alone by the time I crossed the Snowmobile Trail. I didn't see another runner until just before I reached the aid station. I decided to carry my handheld for the race, so I wouldn't need to rely on the aid stations. It was a good choice as I'd already downed a gel before the first aid station, and I was able to roll right through. Still no Jamie, though.

Shortly after the aid station, I focused on catching another runner, Dave, who was moving steadily. It took me some time to catch him, but my timing was perfect because I tucked in right behind him just after passing the Bat Cave. I figured I could relax a bit, after having done a lot of work while running alone, and let him pull me along. Admittedly, it was tough to maintain some discipline here because shortly before the Batcave Trail, I had caught a glimpse of Jamie up ahead. My watch told me he had about 25 seconds on me, and I really wanted to catch him. However, I wanted to stick to my strategy, which included a big surge once I turned right onto the Snowmobile Trail. That's exactly what I did.

As soon as Dave and I exited the Fox Trail, I moved around him a dropped the pace. I felt a little bad since I let him pull me along for a mile or so, but no friends on race day. Additionally, I knew that fellow Trail Monster Bob Porier was not far behind me and having never finished ahead of him in a race before, I liked the idea of trying to sneak away. I was moving very well (for me) up the Snowmobile Trail, when I finally saw Jamie just ahead of me. I was only a couple seconds behind him as I hit the aid station, and joked with Trail Monster Erik and the other volunteers to be quiet so Jamie wouldn't know I was there. He heard me, however, and the element of surprise was gone.

It still took me a little bit to fully catch him, but on the first bit of singletrack just after the Snowmobile Trail we were finally running together. In retrospect, I should have passed him immediately. Instead, I was content to sit behind him. First off, I was pretty beat from charging up the Snowmobile Trail and felt the need to regroup. Secondly, his blog totally psyched me out. Have you been reading that thing? DAMN. He has been doing some killer workouts of late. Workouts that I know I couldn't do. Granted, I got him in the Scuffle and Breaker, but, like I said, he's on fire right now. I said to myself, "Jamie's been crushing it lately, so just try to hang with him." So that's what I did. I sat behind him. Instead of trying to make the pass and go, I sat. Not exactly the most aggressive race tactic, but I hoped that I could hang a make a move just before the O Trail—the small intestine-like 2.4 miles of singeltrack that eats your soul at the end of the race. (In hindsight, even if I had passed him, I'm positive he would have stayed with me and gotten me anyway.) We chatted a bit, but then he'd open a small gap. I'd catch back up, then the gap would open again. Then he started offering every spectator and passer-by $10 to trip me. He must have had about $200 on the line.

As we ran the singletrack just after crossing the Link Trail, I suddenly found myself in a world of hurt. Jamie was slowly putting ground on me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Just past the final aid station, I decided to take another gel just to be safe, and, in hopes of having enough juice to catch him in the O Trail. I needed to regroup a bit. And, looking back, my chance to pass Jamie had already come and gone, but he was my carrot.

Coincidentally, chasing and hanging with Jamie had really fulfilled the next phase of my race strategy: go as hard as you can after the surge on the Snowmobile Trail and just try to hang on in the O Trail. My theory is that everyone runs slowly in the O Trail—it's far too twisty, turny and cruel—so even if you try to run it fast, you're not going to gain that much ground. I turned into the O Trail as my watch read 1:15:05. Now, I was chasing something else. "25 minutes to break 1:40," I kept chanting to myself.

The O Trail is the O Trail. I assume "O" is for oxymoron. It forces you to focus, yet you need to detach yourself from it or you'll go crazy trying to answer the question: "When will this end?" Even though it's at the end of the race, you can actually catch your breath because your forced to slow down, all the while, it destroys your legs. It will look smooth for a few seconds allowing you to run normally, then you'll stop short with a 180° turn over a rocky outcropping. It's physically and psychologically damaging. On top of that, I'm racing. I keep seeing Jamie somewhere in front of me, and Bob somewhere behind me. I must have seen Jamie 10 or 12 times in this section, but I had no real way to gauge how far ahead of me he was. I just kept pushing. I actually passed a couple guys as Jamie pulled me along. They didn't seem to be having much fun. After turning the calendar page, I saw the stone wall. Oh, the sweet, sweet stone wall. Only a few more yards until the end of the O Trail. I'd survived, and as a reward it was time to sprint to the finish.

I crossed the line in 24th place with a time of 1:38:23. Jamie ended up a full 50 seconds ahead of me. He crushed me in the O Trail, but I'll take it. There's no way I would have run that fast if he wasn't there. We congratulated each other at the finish, and the 2010 Bradbury Mountain Trail Running Series was in the books. Well, almost, we still had to get our Bradbury Bad Ass hoodies!

RESULTS

A quick look at the numbers for the Bruiser is pretty crazy. Kevin Tilton, after I browbeat him into running, took the win in a course record time of 1:22:totallyridiculous, bettering the previous record by 7 minutes. The top 7 guys all beat the previous course record. My time from Sunday would have put me in 5th place in 2008 and 2009. In 2007, that time would have been good enough for the win. So, yeah, the race was stacked this year, and that's awesome! Personally, I PRed on the course by 11 minutes and simultaneously ran 27 minutes faster than last year. Not sure which of those is more impressive. Going into the race I had hoped to run 1:42, but would have been happy with 1:45. I figured if things went really well I could dip under 1:40, hence the chanting. So, obviously, I'm thrilled with the 1:38.

For the series, I finished 6th overall with a combined time for the three races of 3:40:59. That total would have placed me second overall the last two years, but I'm not complaining because at the beginning of the summer, I had silently set a goal of breaking 3:55 for the series. So, yeah, the summer went well.

Speaking of "going well," D was the 4th woman, winning her age group, in 1:47:42 on a bad leg with a "I just hope to break 2 hours" goal. She finished third overall in the series for the women, and we are going to petition Ian to have a "Fastest Household" prize next year. (Hopefully, I can hold up my end of the bargain.)

SERIES RESULTS

Now, the race wasn't all rainbows and candy. At some point while chasing Jamie, I could feel a hot spot on the ball of my right foot. In the O Trail, I hit a couple roots or rocks painfully twisting the bottom of my foot on consecutive steps. It was then that I knew I had something ugly on my foot. It turns out that I developed a pretty good sized blood blister. See...

I feel like I've recovered well from the race, and the blister seems to be a non-issue. All good news. I've done a couple very easy runs this week as I now truly taper for the Pisgah Mountain 50k on Sunday. I'm ready.

Training Week 8/29 - 9/4

2010-09-06T20:30:00.002-04:00

This week marked the beginning of my sorta taper for the Pisgah 50k. I say "sorta" because I'm racing the Bradbury Bruiser the week before. I don't think you can consider it a taper when you race a hard 12 miles the weekend before the 50k. Time will tell if this is a good idea or not. If it's not, I'm going to have a fairly painful September 19. Wheeeeeee!!!

Onto the numbers...

8/29, Sunday: 17 - 2:54:15, Powerlines, Mt. Ararat, Cathance River Trails and a Suck Loop. My plan for this run was at least 20, but it wasn't meant to be. My legs never really woke up, and it was brutally hot and humid. I took two short sit down breaks by the river at 8 and 11 miles to eat and regroup (mentally and physically). After my second break, I decided that my best course of action was to head for home. The HEED in the bladder of my Nathan HPL 020 just wasn't working for me. Normally, I really like HEED, but today it felt like I was drinking syrup. YUK. I was home after 14 miles, and D offered me water, Gatorade and melon. The melon was amazing. I poured the Gatorade in my bladder and shuffled off for three more miles. So, all in all, it wasn't a very good run, but I pushed through it. The good news was that even in the heat, my stomach was good the whole way—no trouble with the gels, shot blocks or energy bars.

8/30, Monday: 3 - 23:42, Suck Loop. Much to my surprise I felt really good on this run. Cruised right along easily. With my struggles on Sunday, this was very encouraging. My negative feelings from Sunday's run were totally wiped away. In fact, I was encouraged that had I not been dealing with the heat, Sunday would have been totally different. And, it made me realize how much effort and subsequent success I put in and got out of Sunday's run.

8/31, Tuesday: Off

9/1, Wednesday: 3.25 - 29:00, Mt. Ararat Loop w/ D. It was already hazy, hot and humid when we snuck out for our run after D had dropped the Little Lady off at daycare. We had planned on doing the out and back on the powerlines, but that would have left us completely exposed to the sun. So, I suggested we run the twisty loop I devised through the Mt. Ararat trails a couple years ago. I probably hadn't run this run in over a year. The air quality was poor, and we could both feel it. Overall, though, it was a nice, easy jaunt.

9/2, Thursday: 7.75 total, Great Glen Trails Fall Trail Running Series, 3.4 miles - 25:50; 2.25 mile warm up, 2 mile warm down. Forced speedwork is back! Well, I didn't really open it up all the way, but still got in a good workout. It was hot again, but by the time I headed out for my warmup, it wasn't as brutal as I had anticipated. The course this season is excellent—lots of singletrack, especially in the final mile, which also features a stout climb. (I covered that mile in about 9:00, so that should give you an idea of how tough it is.) I ran relaxed but hard, even though I never went full tilt. All in all, a good, comfortable, hard effort. Bumped into Kevin Tilton as I was headed out on my cool down, which coincided with the warm up for his fartlek workout. I tried to kill him on some really tricky singletrack.

9/3, Friday: 3 - 24:52, Suck Loop. Uneventful, easy stroll.

9/4, Saturday: 3 - 24:42, Powerlines. Felt FAN-TAS-TIC. Just a great, fun run. There were a few puddles left behind by Hurricane Earl, which may have fueled my enthusiasm, but either way, my whole body just felt great. Maybe this is a taper?

Totals:
Miles: 37
Trail: 31
Road: 6

Also notable this week is that I crossed over 1,000 miles for the year. That's not a big deal for a lot of folks out there, but this was the earliest I've hit that number. I barely got there in 2008; hitting the number in week 50. In 2009, it took me until week 47. Best of all, I'd say I'm feeling stronger than ever. In the last couple months (read: since the disaster at Pineland), my focus on strength and hills has really paid off. My notion of a hill is totally different. Hills that I run regularly are feeling smaller, shorter and flatter than ever. Don't worry, my arms are still pathetic.

TUNES!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wl4ouzRoEb8

Training Week 8/22 - 8/28

2010-08-28T14:05:00.001-04:00

Another week of rolling with the punches. No major hurdles this week, but I am battling another cold. It's not a bad cold, but it has annoyed and lingered all week. Seriously, do they dip the girl in a vat of virus wash at daycare? I blame that one little boy. He's a little troll. After all, there's no possible way it could be this one's fault.

Can something that cute carry that much disease? (Actually, yes.)

Onto the numbers...

8/22, Sunday: 5 - 44:51, Homeplace Loop. D's parents were up visiting for a few days, and they offered to watch the Little Lady while we went for a run. Thanks! Nice morning on the trails, and especially nice to run with D.

8/23, Monday: 14 - 2:28:16, Bradbury Mountain State Park (Bruiser course, then a small loop on the west side trails.) Once again, with D's parents visiting we took advantage of the babysitting offer. As I said to D, it was great to feel a little "normal" for a couple hours. D wanted to run the full Bruiser as well as a few extra miles, and I was anxious to redeem myself after my poor long run last week. I didn't have a distance or time goal, and just went with the flow. As it turned out, I felt great the whole way, although I could definitely feel my quads by the end. All in all, a great run, even though I thought I felt a cold coming on.

8/24, Tuesday: Off. Precautionary rest day due to the cold, which had become real. That being said, I probably would have taken the day off anyway.

8/25, Wednesday: 5 - 38:39, Highland Green Road Loop. The cold felt much better today, but it was pouring down rain all day. I really debated taking another day off. Glad I didn't, as I actually had a really good run. The rain was mostly a steady wall of mist by the time I headed out, but it was warm so I didn't mind too much. Polished the loop off surprisingly quickly for how easy it felt.

8/26, Thursday: 10 - 1:21:47, There's a Black Fly in My Eye course. Since I'm still feeling a bit lost without my forced speed/work, I decided that a longish tempo run would fit the bill and be even more targeted training. Looking at the race results, I figured that a tempo effort would be around 1:30. Due to the rolling and technical nature of the course, an overall time was a more realistic goal than a per mile pace. Even with the lingering cold, this run went far better than I would have expected. I felt relaxed and comfortable the entire way. This run was a huge confidence booster.

8/27, Friday: 5 - 42:46, Homeplace Loop. Easy shake out run after yesterday. Pretty uneventful, except that it was quicker than normal.

8/28, Saturday: 3.25 - 25:06, Powerlines. Just squeezing in a couple miles in a short time window, and in anticipation of a long run the next day. Nice morning: 58 degrees when I left the house. Fall is around the corner...I hope.

Totals:
Miles: 42.25
Trail: 37.25
Road: 5

Despite the cold, I managed a really solid week, and felt good on all my runs. A little sluggish and few creaks here and there, but they generally faded away within a mile or two. Another "real" week planned, then my quasi-taper for Pisgah. Well, a taper with a race in the middle. Again, it's a flawless plan.

TUNES!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXEOESuiYcA
Just seeing if anyone if paying attention.

Training Week 8/15 - 8/21

2010-08-23T19:52:00.002-04:00

The good news: I survived the plague. The bad news: I had a pretty miserable week of training.

Onto the numbers:

8/15, Sunday: Off. My fever was gone, but I was completely wiped out from not eating on Saturday.

8/16, Monday: 5 - 41:43, Highland Green Loop. I felt markedly better when I woke up, so I decided to give it a go. I figured I'd hit the relatively easy 5-mile road loop up the Highland Green Road, which also gave me the option of bailing onto the 3-mile Suck Loop, if I wasn't feeling well. I started out feeling awful, but by a mile or so, I felt pretty comfortable and felt better with each passing mile. So, overall, a good run to get the cobwebs out.

Side note: I wore my road shoes for this run. This was the first time I had worn them in four weeks and for only the third time in seven weeks. They felt so different from my trail shoes, it was incredible, and I don't mean that in a good way. They felt so big and bulky that I could barely feel my feet. It was really strange. They're coming to the end of their life cycle, and I'll definitely be looking for something less bulky and over-cushioned. Maybe I'll even read Born to Run...nah...

8/17, Tuesday: 6.75 - 1:01:50, 11x Mt. Ararat. I hadn't done a Mt. Ararat spin in about a month, so it was nice to incorporate this into the training again. It was hot, but I felt pretty good. A hawk watched me from his perch on a few laps.

8/18, Wednesday: 3.25 - 26:44, Powerlines. This was the worst run ever. My legs felt heavy and weak. I cut it from a plan of 5 miles, and I even considered walking home. The timing of the run could have had a lot to do with it. I headed out the door at around 7:30pm after a long day that included two, 2+ hour car rides. Needlessly to say, I won't be trying to squeeze in the miles like that again.

8/19, Thursday: 14 - 2:42:35, Bradbury Mountain State Park (Full Breaker then a bit of the Bruiser.). My initial plans for the day were to run the Breaker course then the full Bruiser. A touch ambitious, but I did just register for a 50k, after all. I felt tired and sluggish from the get go. In fact, I think I felt good for only a handful of steps the entire run. My Breaker time was 1:41 and change, and I debated just stopping there. Being a stubborn runner, I pushed on, but the Island Trail sucked my will to live. By the time, I hit the Snowmobile Trail, I was very happy to turn right, head in and call in a day. Obviously, I would have liked to have banged out the whole thing, but it just wasn't meant to be. That being said, I'm a bit concerned about not only having the time to get the long runs in, but also the fatigue. I'm hopeful that it is related to the illness and not a bit of burnout. Fingers crossed.

8/20, Friday: Off. With all of that in mind, I decided to play it smart and take the day off.

8/21, Saturday: Off. Ditto.

Totals:
Miles: 29
Trail: 24
Road: 5

So, it certainly wasn't the week I had hoped for, but I can't do anything about that now. Like I said, I am a bit concerned about being ready for the 50k, but I know that I will at least be mentally prepared to push through it.

In that vein...
TUNES!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aw1MNBgLw0w

Training Week 8/8 - 8/14

2010-08-16T14:25:00.003-04:00

Admittedly, I felt a bit lost this week with no "forced speedwork." No race/fun race series (that fit in my schedule) for me to give a go at, but it was supposed to be a recovery week. And, it was a good recovery, but not too easy week. But, more importantly, just another lesson in things don't always go as planned.

8/8, Sunday: 9.5 total. Bradbury Mountain Breaker. Awesome day. Awesome race. This may be the best race I've had since I set my high school 2-mile PR my junior year. Sadly, I'm not joking about that.

Finishing the Bradbury Mountain Breaker. Courtesy of Maine Running Photos.

8/9, Monday: 6.75 - 1:06:21, Pineland Farms with Mindy. Post-Breaker, Mindy mentioned she was planning to run at Pineland on Monday. I had some morning appointments/errands, so she agreed to not only meet me in the afternoon but to also run easy. It was hotter than hell, so we took it very easy and chatted the whole way. Great to catch up with her as she's on the injury-free trail again.

8/10, Tuesday: Off

8/11, Wednesday: 5 - 43:33, Homeplace Loop. Not a great run as I felt a bit sluggish towards the end. Could be because it was surprisingly quick.

8/12, Thursday: 5 - 41:44, Brunswick Town Commons. Great change of scenery run, and real easy, flat trail running. Just cruised and enjoyed a beautiful day. Wanted to run more, but stayed "on plan" with the recovery theme.

8/13, Friday: 11.75 - 2:34:15, Great Glen Trails to 19 Mile Brook Trail to Route 16 Over the Imp and back. This was both an awesome and terrible run. It deserves its own post, which I'll get to later this week. Cliffhanger!

8/14, Saturday: Off - SICK! Fever of 100.8, super achy, and extremely nauseous. Bad, bad times.

Totals:
Miles: 38
Trail: 34
Road: 4

I could have called it all trail miles, but Friday's run put me on Route 16 for a few miles. Running on Route 16 sucks. Nothing against this particular road, the scenery is quite nice, but it's more the fact that I'm used to driving it at, well, a slightly faster clip than I can run it.

Had planned on an easy run on Saturday to get the week over 40, but it just wasn't meant to be. I was so sick. So, unfortunately, I'm not entirely sure how I recovered from Friday's quasi-mountain run. Not much I can do about that now. Thankfully, whatever disease the Little Lady passed on to both D and I went as fast as it came. But why did it have to hit so hard? In any event, I'm just rolling with the punches.

Here's the exciting(?) news of the week: I registered for the Pisgah Mountain 50k. I'm pretty excited as I've really been looking at this race as a goal for a couple months. However, there are myriad flaws in this plan. First off, it's a 50k. Last time I attempted this distance, it didn't go so well. I'd like to think I'm smarter now, but like I said, myriad flaws. Secondly, I may only get two 20+ mile runs in before the race. That's not a lot. And, on top of that, they need to happen this week and next, so hopefully, I've recovered from the feverish stomach nastiness. Third, the race is the week after the Bradbury Bruiser. Can I run a 50k the week after racing a tough 12 miles? I guess we'll find out. At least it's not a hilly 50k. Fourth issue: it's a hilly 50k. Well, at least the race report should be entertaining. All that being said, I'm confident I can hit my only race goal: finish strong. I want to run the last five miles well. I don't want to limp home. I think I can run smart enough to pull that off.

Tunes!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siJZXTuwBjA
Where are my Dr. Martens?

Training Week 8/1 - 8/7

2010-08-10T21:06:00.003-04:00

As promised, this week was a bit of a mini-taper for the Bradbury Mountain Breaker. (I'd say that it worked.) Combine that with an extra day off due to our trip to Baxter State Park, and the mileage was a bit down this week.

Onto the numbers...

8/1, Sunday: Off. We did get out for a short hike, so I logged about 2.5 miles of strength work with Samantha in the backpack.

OK, I guess it wasn't all work.

8/2, Monday: 5 - 43:37, Nesowadnehunk Tote Road. Just a simple out and back on the main road through Baxter State Park. I felt really flat during this run. Just off. It was a lot more work than it should have been. On top of that, D had done the same run the night before in 40 minutes and change. UGH. I did have some great views, though, of the surrounding mountains and Nesowadnehunk Stream.

8/3, Tuesday: 7 total, White Mountain Milers Inov-8 Summer Series, 5k - 20:17; 2 mile warm up / 2 mile cool down. This was the last week in the series, so I decided to take it seriously once again. Plus, I figured it was another good opportunity for some "forced speedwork." I really wanted to dip under 20:00, but it wasn't meant to be. First mile was 7 seconds faster than last week, 6:14. The second mile was about the same for a 13:25 split, but I paid for those extra seconds in the final mile as could only PR by 3 seconds. Oh well, still a very good effort, and I'll take a 20:00 5k on that type of terrain off of no speedwork.

8/4, Wednesday: 7 - 1:15:50, Cathance River trails. Nope that time for that mileage is not a typo. This was the worst run ever. Not only was I feeling the effects of Tuesday, but it was hot, humid and awful. I felt sluggish from the get go, and it only got worse. Luckily, I was smart enough to bring my 22oz handheld and my Buff. On three separate occasions my hat and my Buff went into the river in an attempt to cool off. It didn't really work. I was cooked. However, I did play it smart. My original plan was to go 9, and I had no qualms about cutting it short. Additionally, I walked a fair amount. I was in survival mode, but, more importantly, I was hoping to not do any further damage by going too hard. Just a bad day, but I weathered the storm. Adding insult to injury: along one of the small ponds a swamp maple had already turned red and shed a number of leaves. This sight was completely incongruous with the heat and how hot I felt. I was really longing for October.

8/5, Thursday: Off

8/6, Friday: 5 - 45:43, Homeplace Loop. I started out feeling really sluggish but felt progressively better with each step. The slightly cooler weather no doubt helped. Saw a deer along the powerlines, bounded right across the trail directly in front of me. I could even smell him he was that close.

8/7, Saturday: 4.5 - 57:56, Bradbury Mountain State Park (One lap of the Breaker to mark the course.) On Friday night, I met Ian and Emma to mark the first half of the course, so on Saturday morning the crew of Ian, Valerie, James and myself had less to handle. James and I marked the Summit Trail, while Ian and Valerie hit the Switchback Trail. We met at the summit, then marked the Terrace Trail. Once back to the parking lot, we each grabbed a handful of flags to mark any leftover spots as we ran a full lap. Even though Valerie was pushing the pace :), we had a pleasant tour of Sunday's race course.

Totals:
Miles: 28.5
Trail: 28.5
Road: 0

Again, a bit of a down week, but that's not a big deal. I'm averaging 35-40 over the last few weeks, which is right where I want to be right now. Another week of all trail miles, and I'm very happy to be avoiding the roads right now. No interest in the roads at all. I don't have any road races planned, so why pound the pavement?

TUNES!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SW9MlEFwdNc