This week should see a return to good hard running.
This past weekend I competed in my first Crossfit event, the Firestarter Challenge. Held at Triangle Crossfit, this competition was geared towards newer Crossfitters, who's ability levels aren't quite advanced, or they're just new to competing. With individuals on Saturday, I competed with a four-person team on Sunday. It was loads of fun and completely exhausting; everything an athletic competition should be. Our gym had four teams competing and it was great day of hanging out with other competitors. Since starting Crossfit, it has reaffirmed my belief that it doesn't matter one bit what your choice of motion is, or your motives, or the fine details of your sport: we're all after the same, indescribable, incomparable feeling that comes from pushing your body to its limit.
It also furthers my conundrum of balancing Crossfit and running. It's nice being able to run far. It's nice being able to lift heavy shit. I do believe it's possible to do both. But I'm not sure I can run at the level I have been. And if I want to be more balanced, I'm sure if I want to. I mean, of course I WANT to. And I've had people tell me that I need to train like a pro... [implying I want to be pro level.] But I've never done run or raced to place. However, if I don't run, or train to race at my peak, am I wasting some unique talent I have? I'm not trying to be boastful; those are just the words that come to mind. I think I could continue to run really well. Would I give that up to just be an average Crossfitter/athlete?
Leave it to me to take an awesome weekend, and make it some introspective depression.
Soundtrack:
"Lola Montez" by Volbeat
"Freak Like Me" by Halestorm
Monday, June 15, 2015
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Everything Has Changed
I ran 20 miles this week. Only three days. The last day I ran was Thursday. I won't run again until Tuesday.
This is freaking me out, and it's not freaking me out. The thing is, I've been "wanting" to scale back my mileage. And I've always appreciated that my volume of running sacrifices a lot of strength in Crossfit. Nonetheless, actually putting that into practice has been very difficult. I still have a subconscious desire and belief that more is better. But this past weekend, I drove up to Michigan with my brother for his start of medical school. Based on logistics, we pretty much needed to leave by 4am on Friday morning. I was totally trying to plan out how early I could wake up and get a run in on Friday. Or I totally could've packed running clothes and I could've run Saturday morning. Then we all were going to go drop-in at Crossfit gym up there. But, I went against my raging instincts and decided, "no, we're just gonna let it go. Let it be rest, recovery, and rebuilding."
I can't say yet that it feels great. Or that I feel rested, despite being stuck in a vehicle for 13 hours on Friday, and then flying back all this morning. Years and years of day after day of miles and miles just makes me feel bloated, heavy, sluggish. But I'll admit, it may just be relative. And it doesn't mean I'm slower. But it's just weird to wrap my head around it.
David is now gone. He's all the way up in Michigan. It's odd. It's another phase in life for him; for both of us. I'm bittersweet about it. But the weekend was fun, and I am so excited for him.
This is freaking me out, and it's not freaking me out. The thing is, I've been "wanting" to scale back my mileage. And I've always appreciated that my volume of running sacrifices a lot of strength in Crossfit. Nonetheless, actually putting that into practice has been very difficult. I still have a subconscious desire and belief that more is better. But this past weekend, I drove up to Michigan with my brother for his start of medical school. Based on logistics, we pretty much needed to leave by 4am on Friday morning. I was totally trying to plan out how early I could wake up and get a run in on Friday. Or I totally could've packed running clothes and I could've run Saturday morning. Then we all were going to go drop-in at Crossfit gym up there. But, I went against my raging instincts and decided, "no, we're just gonna let it go. Let it be rest, recovery, and rebuilding."
I can't say yet that it feels great. Or that I feel rested, despite being stuck in a vehicle for 13 hours on Friday, and then flying back all this morning. Years and years of day after day of miles and miles just makes me feel bloated, heavy, sluggish. But I'll admit, it may just be relative. And it doesn't mean I'm slower. But it's just weird to wrap my head around it.
David is now gone. He's all the way up in Michigan. It's odd. It's another phase in life for him; for both of us. I'm bittersweet about it. But the weekend was fun, and I am so excited for him.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
One of those Days
I hate being on top of a mountain, then plunging down into a valley; some days you just wonder the fucking point of everything is.
I hate wanting to be great at a lot of things, and then fearing I'm just going to have to live with being OK at a couple of things, and pretty shitty at others.
I hate social "rules" and I hate how sometimes it's OK to break them. And I hate how I weasel my way out of that by deciding it's not my place to break them.
I hate how living/eating "carefree" can feel like failing. I hate how sticking to a training plan/nutrition can feel rewarding and yet so fucking restrictive, even unhealthy.
I hate waiting for my "adult" life to finally begin and know what I'm suppose to be fucking doing with my life and contributing to the world.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run 2015
I love writing race reports. But I'm also not graced with any sort of gift for narrative, rhetoric, or suspense. So I'm not sure how best to begin this tale, which had many plot twists and turns.
The past two years, I've volunteered the day before at the race site; so for me it always seems like the race begins on Friday. While I first volunteered just at registration, this year I also helped out setting out parking cones, as well as setting up the headquarters aid station tent and timing tent. Friday was cold and rainy, and while my energy wasn't zapped, I had that I-can't-feel-warm sensation. And it would just get colder over the night. Though I've stayed on site in cabins in years past, this time I rode back with David to our apartment. Probably not coincidentally, I actually had the first full night's sleep before a race in a long time.
With an early wake up, we drove on out to the course, getting to park in an ideal spot right next to where I had set up and left my car. We sat around at the HQ for a little bit. In our race packet, they made little dog tags in honor of Blake Norton, the founding race director for 20 years, who just passed away. I've been pinned this to the back of my pack. At first it clangs around noisily, but I change my attitude, and believe that it's just Blake, on my backside, pushing me onward. And at 6am we were off!
This year my goal was to finally break the 16 hour mark. When I first made that attempt last year, I essentially just picked off a minute here, a minute there, from my first year's lap splits, with the goal of holding on to a quicker pace overall. That worked for the most part. You never really notice more than a minute or so the first laps, and maybe not more than 5 or so minutes in the second 50, but it turned into a hour PR. However, that wasn't good enough for a sub-16. My plan this year was a little riskier: I would try to take significant time off the earlier laps to get enough time in the tank, and then work to hold on. Whereas before those first few laps were mid 1:50s, this year I was aiming for something sub-1:50.
Lap 1:
The thinning of the herd, and mostly in the dark. Running is also kind of like driving: in you mind, everyone running slower than you doesn't have your guts or stamina. Everyone ahead of you is probably over confident and will blow up. There were the running Gods, plowing ahead of us, but for the mortals, you're always trying to evaluate the field. The first mile felt a little slow (though how the first laps starts, it was a little long), and so I decided to dial in a quicker pace to nail the lap pace. I skipped the water point 1 (WP1) at this point: my stomach was still pretty set of breakfast, and I wasn't at all eager to start stomach problems early. At AS1, I found a wonderfully delicious piece of cinnamon/coffee muffin which was phenomenal. For the most part I'm running on my own. There's one runner I see-saw with that first lap, but he's a first time 100 miler, and runs a lot of N. Turkey Creek. I end up leaving him over the second lap. Last year I did quite well running with a group, but with my focus on the pace, I think I'm doing better running my own race.
Lap 2:
I came through in 1:44:xx. Kinda what I was hoping for. The plan is to give David my pack to "check," but I know it's all good, and my hands are still pretty cold that getting it off/on is a lot of trouble. I get a little bit to eat at headquarters (HQ), and head back out. I'm still feeling pretty strong. I'm resolving to keep it strong for three laps at this tempo; which should give me 45 minutes. The sun is starting to come up, and I've switched from a beanie to headband, but it feels warm with my long sleeves (though I think it's still in the 30s). I grab a few cookies at WP1. While I can't predict if my stomach goes south, what I eat earlier really isn't the difference, so I'm happy to enjoy the real food instead of some nasty gels. I'm still running up the long hill from the lake to Turkey Creek. At AS2, I grab another muffin. PRO TIP: Nibble some at the aid stations, but if you want more, just make sure you can easily carry it. I munch on that muffin for the next mile in order to not stuff myself. N. Turkey Creek continues uneventful. This section is actual my favorite part, despite being the hilliest: there's really no guilt about walking the hills, they're so steep. And really, the first 6-7 miles are completely runnable, so with the walking hills THIS is the break. At WP1, I've been digging the Honey Stinger Honey Gels that taste AMAZING. It's meant to be just enough to get me another 2 miles back to HQ.
Lap 3:
Was right at 1:45, so still holding strong. The laps are long, but my focus on is still sharp. I'm good with nailing this pace again. For heading out to AS2, I'm feeling good, but I am noticing my hamstrings tightening up. And after climbing up to Turkey Creek, I can feel some heaviness in my quads. I grab another muffin at AS2 and keeping plugging away.
Lap 4:
Here is where the wheels started to come off. I want to keep the 1:45 for just one more lap, I would have an hour in the bank. That way, I could fall back to 2:15 laps for the second half; after 1:45s that'd be a piece of cake, right? Still, lap 4 is the hardest lap mentally, but I just tried to keep mental focused on hitting the pace. But the heaviness and tightness is getting to me. And I dare to take one more lap climbing up to Turkey Creek, and this just does it. I'm still plowing ahead, but I know it's going bad. When nothing is appeasing at AS2, I can tell the stomach is falling apart too. I end up adding some unplanned walking spots. Like a wave, it hits me that I want to stop. I can't stand the tightness and aches that are coming. I can't stand the stomach issues. It's nothing I haven't dealt with it before, but those were when my first two years were special and I was willing to endure it. I feel so much less invested this year, I just don't want to have to go through that yet again. I just don't want it to happen. As I pass David at HQ, I just say "we need to talk."
Lap 5:
I'm with my crew for a minute. I want to stop. I finally decide to placate everyone: I'll do an obligatory one more lap, but I still have no intention of continuing beyond that. I've picked up Leigh Anne, my first pacer. She's doing her best to encourage me to keep me going. In hindsight, I do feel better finally having a friend to run with. I feel so appreciative for the effort Leigh Anne is putting in; but it's nearly impossible to make me feel better. I'm walking randomly at such inappropriate spots, and I just don't care. I take one last hoorah; I drink some Mountain Dew at AS2. If that doesn't perk me up, nothing will. And it really doesn't, I'm still fighting all the good Leigh Anne is trying to do, and I still want to stop. Back at HQ, Leigh Anne stops to confer David, only after I reassure her that I won't drop without consulting with them.
Lap 6:
God bless Mac. I still beg to drop. Though I'm terrible at being dramatic, and even I don't think I sound as far gone as I feel. Leigh Anne is still laying it on. David is just calmly telling me he thinks I would want to continue. Mac sneakily says she doesn't want to run fast either. Fine. I'll go again. And honestly, I'm feeling much better. I've resigned to keep going as long as we keeping easy and slow. Mac is an old college friend and we haven't talked for a while. And it was a great time to catch up. It's just two friends out for a run. We catch up, and really get into some deep things. It was great. I'm also thinking "well, hell, now we're finally at 75 miles, can't stop now." I've also found my poison of choice in the Honey Stinger Waffles (SO GOOD). And just in case I'm jacking up the caffeine with Mountain Dew. This short lap summary just doesn't give how great this lap was.
Lap 7 and 8:
Throwing these two laps together is an injustice as well. But I'm also pretty mentally buzzed and just happy to get out of 20+ mile slump and to be finishing again. I don't care about my time, and that it won't be a PR. I've come out of a hole. Not by my own volition, but by being pulled out by incredible crew and pacers. Mitzi and I have a great time just letting the conversation flow. It's so nice to not worry about having this guys really try to push my pace. When Todd comes around, it's like our weekend runs. He does a great job of not front running, and paying attention to where I am. I get short with him once or twice, but overall it's a great lap. He gets even by running the wrong way, going down the main service road to C. Lapahio, and leading me behind for about 100 feet before I come to my senses.
Summary:
This race was quite a learning experience. In hindsight, I don't know whether I regret anything I did. I took a risk. It didn't pan out, but that's what risk taking is. And really my pacers stayed true to my strategy. Sure it wasn't about my pace, but I told my pacers not to listen to me and to keep me going. Especially Leigh Anne did a superb job, and getting to run with Mac was the icing on the cake. It could not have been finished off any better than with Mitzi and Todd. I come in to the finish is 17:02, with an incredible support! My parents, Greg and Meredith and the girls, and a whole slew of people from Morrisville Community Crossfit! It was unreal, and so special
Now to just relax, and see how the recovery goes. In hindsight, I took a risk that just did not pan out. The first marathon was nearly 3:38, certainly faster than anything in the past few years, let alone at the beginning of a 100 mile race. Maybe that was the "wrong" choice or the "wrong" plan. But when you go to your limits, there's no way to know what will work; you HAVE to take a chance. And perhaps I did finally obtain my one goal: to push myself so far beyond myself, I just couldn't pull out on my own. No promises on what I will or will not do, but it should be easy going until it's starts getting close to prepare for the Cascade Crest 100 at the end of August.
Blindside - Coming Back to Life
The past two years, I've volunteered the day before at the race site; so for me it always seems like the race begins on Friday. While I first volunteered just at registration, this year I also helped out setting out parking cones, as well as setting up the headquarters aid station tent and timing tent. Friday was cold and rainy, and while my energy wasn't zapped, I had that I-can't-feel-warm sensation. And it would just get colder over the night. Though I've stayed on site in cabins in years past, this time I rode back with David to our apartment. Probably not coincidentally, I actually had the first full night's sleep before a race in a long time.
With an early wake up, we drove on out to the course, getting to park in an ideal spot right next to where I had set up and left my car. We sat around at the HQ for a little bit. In our race packet, they made little dog tags in honor of Blake Norton, the founding race director for 20 years, who just passed away. I've been pinned this to the back of my pack. At first it clangs around noisily, but I change my attitude, and believe that it's just Blake, on my backside, pushing me onward. And at 6am we were off!
This year my goal was to finally break the 16 hour mark. When I first made that attempt last year, I essentially just picked off a minute here, a minute there, from my first year's lap splits, with the goal of holding on to a quicker pace overall. That worked for the most part. You never really notice more than a minute or so the first laps, and maybe not more than 5 or so minutes in the second 50, but it turned into a hour PR. However, that wasn't good enough for a sub-16. My plan this year was a little riskier: I would try to take significant time off the earlier laps to get enough time in the tank, and then work to hold on. Whereas before those first few laps were mid 1:50s, this year I was aiming for something sub-1:50.
Lap 1:
The thinning of the herd, and mostly in the dark. Running is also kind of like driving: in you mind, everyone running slower than you doesn't have your guts or stamina. Everyone ahead of you is probably over confident and will blow up. There were the running Gods, plowing ahead of us, but for the mortals, you're always trying to evaluate the field. The first mile felt a little slow (though how the first laps starts, it was a little long), and so I decided to dial in a quicker pace to nail the lap pace. I skipped the water point 1 (WP1) at this point: my stomach was still pretty set of breakfast, and I wasn't at all eager to start stomach problems early. At AS1, I found a wonderfully delicious piece of cinnamon/coffee muffin which was phenomenal. For the most part I'm running on my own. There's one runner I see-saw with that first lap, but he's a first time 100 miler, and runs a lot of N. Turkey Creek. I end up leaving him over the second lap. Last year I did quite well running with a group, but with my focus on the pace, I think I'm doing better running my own race.
Lap 2:
I came through in 1:44:xx. Kinda what I was hoping for. The plan is to give David my pack to "check," but I know it's all good, and my hands are still pretty cold that getting it off/on is a lot of trouble. I get a little bit to eat at headquarters (HQ), and head back out. I'm still feeling pretty strong. I'm resolving to keep it strong for three laps at this tempo; which should give me 45 minutes. The sun is starting to come up, and I've switched from a beanie to headband, but it feels warm with my long sleeves (though I think it's still in the 30s). I grab a few cookies at WP1. While I can't predict if my stomach goes south, what I eat earlier really isn't the difference, so I'm happy to enjoy the real food instead of some nasty gels. I'm still running up the long hill from the lake to Turkey Creek. At AS2, I grab another muffin. PRO TIP: Nibble some at the aid stations, but if you want more, just make sure you can easily carry it. I munch on that muffin for the next mile in order to not stuff myself. N. Turkey Creek continues uneventful. This section is actual my favorite part, despite being the hilliest: there's really no guilt about walking the hills, they're so steep. And really, the first 6-7 miles are completely runnable, so with the walking hills THIS is the break. At WP1, I've been digging the Honey Stinger Honey Gels that taste AMAZING. It's meant to be just enough to get me another 2 miles back to HQ.
Lap 3:
Was right at 1:45, so still holding strong. The laps are long, but my focus on is still sharp. I'm good with nailing this pace again. For heading out to AS2, I'm feeling good, but I am noticing my hamstrings tightening up. And after climbing up to Turkey Creek, I can feel some heaviness in my quads. I grab another muffin at AS2 and keeping plugging away.
Lap 4:
Here is where the wheels started to come off. I want to keep the 1:45 for just one more lap, I would have an hour in the bank. That way, I could fall back to 2:15 laps for the second half; after 1:45s that'd be a piece of cake, right? Still, lap 4 is the hardest lap mentally, but I just tried to keep mental focused on hitting the pace. But the heaviness and tightness is getting to me. And I dare to take one more lap climbing up to Turkey Creek, and this just does it. I'm still plowing ahead, but I know it's going bad. When nothing is appeasing at AS2, I can tell the stomach is falling apart too. I end up adding some unplanned walking spots. Like a wave, it hits me that I want to stop. I can't stand the tightness and aches that are coming. I can't stand the stomach issues. It's nothing I haven't dealt with it before, but those were when my first two years were special and I was willing to endure it. I feel so much less invested this year, I just don't want to have to go through that yet again. I just don't want it to happen. As I pass David at HQ, I just say "we need to talk."
Lap 5:
I'm with my crew for a minute. I want to stop. I finally decide to placate everyone: I'll do an obligatory one more lap, but I still have no intention of continuing beyond that. I've picked up Leigh Anne, my first pacer. She's doing her best to encourage me to keep me going. In hindsight, I do feel better finally having a friend to run with. I feel so appreciative for the effort Leigh Anne is putting in; but it's nearly impossible to make me feel better. I'm walking randomly at such inappropriate spots, and I just don't care. I take one last hoorah; I drink some Mountain Dew at AS2. If that doesn't perk me up, nothing will. And it really doesn't, I'm still fighting all the good Leigh Anne is trying to do, and I still want to stop. Back at HQ, Leigh Anne stops to confer David, only after I reassure her that I won't drop without consulting with them.
Lap 6:
God bless Mac. I still beg to drop. Though I'm terrible at being dramatic, and even I don't think I sound as far gone as I feel. Leigh Anne is still laying it on. David is just calmly telling me he thinks I would want to continue. Mac sneakily says she doesn't want to run fast either. Fine. I'll go again. And honestly, I'm feeling much better. I've resigned to keep going as long as we keeping easy and slow. Mac is an old college friend and we haven't talked for a while. And it was a great time to catch up. It's just two friends out for a run. We catch up, and really get into some deep things. It was great. I'm also thinking "well, hell, now we're finally at 75 miles, can't stop now." I've also found my poison of choice in the Honey Stinger Waffles (SO GOOD). And just in case I'm jacking up the caffeine with Mountain Dew. This short lap summary just doesn't give how great this lap was.
Lap 7 and 8:
Throwing these two laps together is an injustice as well. But I'm also pretty mentally buzzed and just happy to get out of 20+ mile slump and to be finishing again. I don't care about my time, and that it won't be a PR. I've come out of a hole. Not by my own volition, but by being pulled out by incredible crew and pacers. Mitzi and I have a great time just letting the conversation flow. It's so nice to not worry about having this guys really try to push my pace. When Todd comes around, it's like our weekend runs. He does a great job of not front running, and paying attention to where I am. I get short with him once or twice, but overall it's a great lap. He gets even by running the wrong way, going down the main service road to C. Lapahio, and leading me behind for about 100 feet before I come to my senses.
Summary:
This race was quite a learning experience. In hindsight, I don't know whether I regret anything I did. I took a risk. It didn't pan out, but that's what risk taking is. And really my pacers stayed true to my strategy. Sure it wasn't about my pace, but I told my pacers not to listen to me and to keep me going. Especially Leigh Anne did a superb job, and getting to run with Mac was the icing on the cake. It could not have been finished off any better than with Mitzi and Todd. I come in to the finish is 17:02, with an incredible support! My parents, Greg and Meredith and the girls, and a whole slew of people from Morrisville Community Crossfit! It was unreal, and so special
Now to just relax, and see how the recovery goes. In hindsight, I took a risk that just did not pan out. The first marathon was nearly 3:38, certainly faster than anything in the past few years, let alone at the beginning of a 100 mile race. Maybe that was the "wrong" choice or the "wrong" plan. But when you go to your limits, there's no way to know what will work; you HAVE to take a chance. And perhaps I did finally obtain my one goal: to push myself so far beyond myself, I just couldn't pull out on my own. No promises on what I will or will not do, but it should be easy going until it's starts getting close to prepare for the Cascade Crest 100 at the end of August.
Blindside - Coming Back to Life
Monday, January 5, 2015
Faster Higher Stronger
It's been a while since I've read a good book, besides an Anatomy, or Psychology textbook. But over Christmas I received Faster Higher Stronger by Mark McClusky. I just got done the other day, so here are my few thoughts.
The subtitle for the book goes "How Sports Science is creating a new generation of super athletes - and what we can learn from them." Essentially is a review of some major topics in sports science. I think it's necessary that this is described as sports science vs exercise science. The second premis of that subtitle is obviously geared toward your recreational runners, the subject matter is on professional athletes training at the highest level. McClusky touches on some classic topics such as nutrition, supplements, altitude training, pacing, the talent vs training debate. Doping was the controversial one. And there's a real interesting chapter of sports analytics which is immensely popular for NBA, MLB, and NFL. My favorite was his coverage of the lactate myth and the central governor theory.
The author crams a lot of information in here. But not so much in the academic-article style. He's a journalist by trade, and a lot of the chapters would probably make great magazine or news articles. But with the number of anecdotal examples used, the organization feels very jumbled and haphazard. I suppose it doesn't really need much flow, but the chapters could've been randomly shuffled, and you'd never even know.
Overall though, I thought the book was excellent, but I am a little biased. Sports science is a fascinating subject, at least for me. For myself, it's not just about going out in training. I need to know how to develop my own training plan, the purpose of each workout, etc. And that's not enough; I need to know HOW those mechanisms work.
The subtitle for the book goes "How Sports Science is creating a new generation of super athletes - and what we can learn from them." Essentially is a review of some major topics in sports science. I think it's necessary that this is described as sports science vs exercise science. The second premis of that subtitle is obviously geared toward your recreational runners, the subject matter is on professional athletes training at the highest level. McClusky touches on some classic topics such as nutrition, supplements, altitude training, pacing, the talent vs training debate. Doping was the controversial one. And there's a real interesting chapter of sports analytics which is immensely popular for NBA, MLB, and NFL. My favorite was his coverage of the lactate myth and the central governor theory.
The author crams a lot of information in here. But not so much in the academic-article style. He's a journalist by trade, and a lot of the chapters would probably make great magazine or news articles. But with the number of anecdotal examples used, the organization feels very jumbled and haphazard. I suppose it doesn't really need much flow, but the chapters could've been randomly shuffled, and you'd never even know.
Overall though, I thought the book was excellent, but I am a little biased. Sports science is a fascinating subject, at least for me. For myself, it's not just about going out in training. I need to know how to develop my own training plan, the purpose of each workout, etc. And that's not enough; I need to know HOW those mechanisms work.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
2014 Hellgate 100K
My first run of the Hellgate 100K++ is over and done. Or as Dr. Horton called it, due to the mild temperature and lack of rain or snow: Sissygate. It was an amazing experience. I'll try a give a decent run down of my race experience. Unfortunately I'm one of those where so many details seem to blur together, but I'll do my best. My prediction going into the race was to run 12-13 hour. My GOAL was try for under 12 hrs. And my super-secret goal was a top 10 finish, something I had yet to do in any of the Lynchburg ultras.
Friday night was a all around good time. I showed up about an hour before pick-up, introduced myself to Dr. Horton. Dr. Horton is founder and race director for Hellgate as well as other ultras around the Lynchburg area. From his quirky charisma, you know he cares for every runner out there. The first to acknowledge your success, but he won't budge an inch until you've earned it. That night we had a wonderful dinner by the staff at Camp Bethel, along with an informative and entertaining briefing. For a few hours we waited, prepped, maybe tried to sleep before heading off the start.
Hellgate starts at the Glenwood Horse Trail, near the Big Hellgate Creek and the Little Hellgate Creek, thus the name. A few minutes before Saturday (this is all starting in the middle of the night, near midnight), we gather to sing the national anthem, and pray. Once Saturday comes at midnight we are allowed to cross in front of the trailhead's gate. And at 12:01 am we are gone!
Start to AS1. This was a lot of rolling trails. The pace seemed a tad faster that I probably would've normally attempted. OK, a bit faster. But I felt compelled to keep that lead pack in my sight. The trail had some rocks and roots, but nothing un-runnable. I had a vague idea of how many were ahead of me, but nothing solid at this point. AS1 had only water, and with my pack pretty full, I just continued on through, determined to keep in sight.
AS1-AS2. This section was completely unmarked, but it's just one road that you follow up, up, up, and up. This is four miles all up hill. It's early enough in the race, many of us aren't running with our heads. So many times, I'm telling myself how much smarter it would be to start walking, but I can't seem to let myself. There's so many spots where you think you're almost to the end, only to see the road switch back and up again. I counted out that I'm somewhere around 12th. I'm a few dozen yards of the lead pack, with a handful of others in between. I resolved not to try and catch anyone yet, and just maintain where I am.
AS2-AS3. Many people see their crews here, and as people start stopping for various lengths, I pretty much lose visual on the pecking order. I grab a few pieces of food, a quarter of PB&J and head out. This next section has a lot of variability in terrain. Just past the aid station, we turn off onto some single track that mainly heads downhill. I've got a few people in sight, but 1 or 2 people might as well be free falling, they're going so fast. Horton calls the next mile or so a road, I think of it more of an ATV trail/double track. We're hear for just a little ways before ducking back on to trails for a lot of decent climbs and descents. I tend to lose people on the downs, but can make it back up on the climbs. I eat a gel or whatever in here, but I'm anxious to get to the aid station.
AS3-AS4. I get some real food in, and then start heading out. I'm feeling really good. One runner I could never reel in and who escapes on the initial downhill, I overtake on the climbs easily. It's back in forth for a bit, but I eventually lose him. What could it have been? MOUNTAIN DEW. I've experienced it's magic before, and I can definitely tell a difference. Reluctantly, I know it's going be a staple fuel throughout the rest of the race. I should also say, at this point, I'm no longer running the whole time. I get some good sections, but I'm a little more conservative and want to make sure I don't lose ground.
AS4-AS5. Even reading the course details, all I remember now is a lot of variability. Some ups. Some downs. Some gravel roads. Some grassy ATV trails. Some single track. I remember briefly being concerned about which section I'm on. I was pretty sure I went through AS4, but since I decided not to go to my drop bag, and thus never saw it, I slightly doubt it was there. I run a little bit with a guy from the Blacksburg area, who's a 8th-year veteran. We're never together continuously, but we talk some and he helps with some pretty accurate info on what's coming up. At some point through several of these sections, I some times think I see an aid station way off in the distance. Then a slight turn and I no longer see it, not really sure if it was even there. The trails are OK, but I'm becoming increasing frustrated with all the BRIARS! I don't know the actual name, but I just called them briar stalks. Just the tall stalks, and you run through them because you can't avoid them, and suddenly I'm a pincushion.
AS5-AS6-AS7. There's just a lot of running. There's also a God awful amount of leaf coverage. No exaggeration: up to my calf. Some sections I don't just because I don't feel safe doing so. The trail is also so narrow next to the side of the mountain; you're worried about falling on your face as much as falling down the mountain. At some point during this time the sun comes up. I'm so excited to turn off my headlamp. If you ever wonder about running throughout the night, my experience is that it's not the sleep deprivation: it's the hours on hours of darkness with only this tiny window of light. One of these sections is longer than Dr Horton claims, and I'm becoming frustrated. I just can't wait to see that next aid station, which is where my drop bag will be.
AS7-AS8. With the sun up, at AS7, I change a bit to get out of some cold weather clothes, to be more prepared of the warmth. Dr Horton happily greets and lets me know that I'M IN SIXTH PLACE. I think I had that kinda worked out before, but to here it from the man himself was great. I've switched to handhelds, and have filled them with Gu for the extra fuel, though, as I've been since AS3, I pound down about 3 cups of Mtn Dew. I grab a Fluffnutter slider (Yes, it is amazing) and head out. Just as I leave, I see another runner come in, and I suddenly feel a huge pressure to defend my position. This next section I actually enjoy for the most part. Initially there is some hard climbing. But eventually there's section of "PIOs;" pointless in and outs. They are certainly not pancake flat, but since I'm feel good, I find most of it runnable, and I enjoy the zig-zagging. By the end, I'm fading a little bit, but the aid station is near.
AS8-AS9. This is my absolute lowest point of the race. At the aid station I fill up my bottles, down my Mtn Dew, grab a few tater tots. This is the "lunch" aid station for most people, but it's still about 9:30-10ish for me. Then I get the worst tidbit. The AS worker tells me the next section is down hills for a ways then flat. I know this has been called "the FOREVER" section, but down hill and flat? I can deal with that. It is true that there was a fair amount of down hill for a while. But once we cut into the woods, it because very clear that it is not flat. While maybe not the steepest, this is some of the worst climbing of the entire day. That leaf coverage is back, and by now I've resolved to run on it where I can, some places I just CAN'T. I have so many false hopes throughout this section, I wanted to cry. And I was PISSED! Down hill and FLAT?! I'm sure I low of calories, but I'm livid. Every time there's a slight down, I think "this is it" and it NEVER WAS. And I swear I hear the people at the next station, but honestly, that started about 45 minutes before I actually got there.
AS9-Finish. This is IT. I grip a little bit to the AS workers, but I try to only speak positively. Negativity just breeds negativity. There's 6 miles left. Two miles up, four miles down. I head out, run a few hundred yards in and take a bathroom break. And... I felt resolved just to walk. At this point, the line between runnable and un-runnable was blurred. I think twice I ran a few hundred feet. But I kind of had no guilt about walking. It felt like a long two miles. When I got to the top, I felt very stiff. But I worked it out crossing the road, and head down. At this point, it was unmemorable, besides just the elation of getting to the end. My quads were on fire, but I'm so close I just abuse them some more. I'm still paranoid about 7th place right behind me. But I see that 1 mile mark and try to get another gear. I turn into Camp Bethel and try to reach one more. I cross the finish line in 12:37:00. And I get my sixth place.
In the end I think I had a great race. I think I'll always wonder if I went out too hard for those first 7 ish miles through AS2. Could I have closed even better if I had left more in the tank earlier? Perhaps. But what I did did get me to where I needed to be to get sixth, and for that I don't regret it.
Friday night was a all around good time. I showed up about an hour before pick-up, introduced myself to Dr. Horton. Dr. Horton is founder and race director for Hellgate as well as other ultras around the Lynchburg area. From his quirky charisma, you know he cares for every runner out there. The first to acknowledge your success, but he won't budge an inch until you've earned it. That night we had a wonderful dinner by the staff at Camp Bethel, along with an informative and entertaining briefing. For a few hours we waited, prepped, maybe tried to sleep before heading off the start.
Hellgate starts at the Glenwood Horse Trail, near the Big Hellgate Creek and the Little Hellgate Creek, thus the name. A few minutes before Saturday (this is all starting in the middle of the night, near midnight), we gather to sing the national anthem, and pray. Once Saturday comes at midnight we are allowed to cross in front of the trailhead's gate. And at 12:01 am we are gone!
Start to AS1. This was a lot of rolling trails. The pace seemed a tad faster that I probably would've normally attempted. OK, a bit faster. But I felt compelled to keep that lead pack in my sight. The trail had some rocks and roots, but nothing un-runnable. I had a vague idea of how many were ahead of me, but nothing solid at this point. AS1 had only water, and with my pack pretty full, I just continued on through, determined to keep in sight.
AS1-AS2. This section was completely unmarked, but it's just one road that you follow up, up, up, and up. This is four miles all up hill. It's early enough in the race, many of us aren't running with our heads. So many times, I'm telling myself how much smarter it would be to start walking, but I can't seem to let myself. There's so many spots where you think you're almost to the end, only to see the road switch back and up again. I counted out that I'm somewhere around 12th. I'm a few dozen yards of the lead pack, with a handful of others in between. I resolved not to try and catch anyone yet, and just maintain where I am.
AS2-AS3. Many people see their crews here, and as people start stopping for various lengths, I pretty much lose visual on the pecking order. I grab a few pieces of food, a quarter of PB&J and head out. This next section has a lot of variability in terrain. Just past the aid station, we turn off onto some single track that mainly heads downhill. I've got a few people in sight, but 1 or 2 people might as well be free falling, they're going so fast. Horton calls the next mile or so a road, I think of it more of an ATV trail/double track. We're hear for just a little ways before ducking back on to trails for a lot of decent climbs and descents. I tend to lose people on the downs, but can make it back up on the climbs. I eat a gel or whatever in here, but I'm anxious to get to the aid station.
AS3-AS4. I get some real food in, and then start heading out. I'm feeling really good. One runner I could never reel in and who escapes on the initial downhill, I overtake on the climbs easily. It's back in forth for a bit, but I eventually lose him. What could it have been? MOUNTAIN DEW. I've experienced it's magic before, and I can definitely tell a difference. Reluctantly, I know it's going be a staple fuel throughout the rest of the race. I should also say, at this point, I'm no longer running the whole time. I get some good sections, but I'm a little more conservative and want to make sure I don't lose ground.
AS4-AS5. Even reading the course details, all I remember now is a lot of variability. Some ups. Some downs. Some gravel roads. Some grassy ATV trails. Some single track. I remember briefly being concerned about which section I'm on. I was pretty sure I went through AS4, but since I decided not to go to my drop bag, and thus never saw it, I slightly doubt it was there. I run a little bit with a guy from the Blacksburg area, who's a 8th-year veteran. We're never together continuously, but we talk some and he helps with some pretty accurate info on what's coming up. At some point through several of these sections, I some times think I see an aid station way off in the distance. Then a slight turn and I no longer see it, not really sure if it was even there. The trails are OK, but I'm becoming increasing frustrated with all the BRIARS! I don't know the actual name, but I just called them briar stalks. Just the tall stalks, and you run through them because you can't avoid them, and suddenly I'm a pincushion.
AS5-AS6-AS7. There's just a lot of running. There's also a God awful amount of leaf coverage. No exaggeration: up to my calf. Some sections I don't just because I don't feel safe doing so. The trail is also so narrow next to the side of the mountain; you're worried about falling on your face as much as falling down the mountain. At some point during this time the sun comes up. I'm so excited to turn off my headlamp. If you ever wonder about running throughout the night, my experience is that it's not the sleep deprivation: it's the hours on hours of darkness with only this tiny window of light. One of these sections is longer than Dr Horton claims, and I'm becoming frustrated. I just can't wait to see that next aid station, which is where my drop bag will be.
AS7-AS8. With the sun up, at AS7, I change a bit to get out of some cold weather clothes, to be more prepared of the warmth. Dr Horton happily greets and lets me know that I'M IN SIXTH PLACE. I think I had that kinda worked out before, but to here it from the man himself was great. I've switched to handhelds, and have filled them with Gu for the extra fuel, though, as I've been since AS3, I pound down about 3 cups of Mtn Dew. I grab a Fluffnutter slider (Yes, it is amazing) and head out. Just as I leave, I see another runner come in, and I suddenly feel a huge pressure to defend my position. This next section I actually enjoy for the most part. Initially there is some hard climbing. But eventually there's section of "PIOs;" pointless in and outs. They are certainly not pancake flat, but since I'm feel good, I find most of it runnable, and I enjoy the zig-zagging. By the end, I'm fading a little bit, but the aid station is near.
AS8-AS9. This is my absolute lowest point of the race. At the aid station I fill up my bottles, down my Mtn Dew, grab a few tater tots. This is the "lunch" aid station for most people, but it's still about 9:30-10ish for me. Then I get the worst tidbit. The AS worker tells me the next section is down hills for a ways then flat. I know this has been called "the FOREVER" section, but down hill and flat? I can deal with that. It is true that there was a fair amount of down hill for a while. But once we cut into the woods, it because very clear that it is not flat. While maybe not the steepest, this is some of the worst climbing of the entire day. That leaf coverage is back, and by now I've resolved to run on it where I can, some places I just CAN'T. I have so many false hopes throughout this section, I wanted to cry. And I was PISSED! Down hill and FLAT?! I'm sure I low of calories, but I'm livid. Every time there's a slight down, I think "this is it" and it NEVER WAS. And I swear I hear the people at the next station, but honestly, that started about 45 minutes before I actually got there.
AS9-Finish. This is IT. I grip a little bit to the AS workers, but I try to only speak positively. Negativity just breeds negativity. There's 6 miles left. Two miles up, four miles down. I head out, run a few hundred yards in and take a bathroom break. And... I felt resolved just to walk. At this point, the line between runnable and un-runnable was blurred. I think twice I ran a few hundred feet. But I kind of had no guilt about walking. It felt like a long two miles. When I got to the top, I felt very stiff. But I worked it out crossing the road, and head down. At this point, it was unmemorable, besides just the elation of getting to the end. My quads were on fire, but I'm so close I just abuse them some more. I'm still paranoid about 7th place right behind me. But I see that 1 mile mark and try to get another gear. I turn into Camp Bethel and try to reach one more. I cross the finish line in 12:37:00. And I get my sixth place.
In the end I think I had a great race. I think I'll always wonder if I went out too hard for those first 7 ish miles through AS2. Could I have closed even better if I had left more in the tank earlier? Perhaps. But what I did did get me to where I needed to be to get sixth, and for that I don't regret it.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Hellgate 100K+
Race weekend is upon us. The past month has been relatively busy. On top of work, there has been Thanksgiving, lab practicals, and finals. But yesterday I had my A&P final just in time to be bored out of my mind these few days before Hellgate.
Tapering down has gone well. Nothing new acting up, and it's been a anxious balancing act with Crossfit. Crossfit is definitely a brand new experience for me leading up to a race, though I usually always had some cross-training exercise I've done leading up to a race. But the higher intensity and strength portions are finicky to work, and this week we were programmed to max out on some power lifts. I think I've done a decent job easing up, by skipping deadlift and squat PR attempts, and scaling and/or modifying the conditioning portions. I just can never tell if my legs feel tired/sluggish/strange from running less.
I'm just getting excited. I'll try and have a race report up afterwards. I'll leave around noon tomorrow to get there in the early afternoon. Race starts 12:01am Saturday morning!
Soundtrack:
"I am a Stone" by Demon Hunter
"The Songwriter" by Staple
Tapering down has gone well. Nothing new acting up, and it's been a anxious balancing act with Crossfit. Crossfit is definitely a brand new experience for me leading up to a race, though I usually always had some cross-training exercise I've done leading up to a race. But the higher intensity and strength portions are finicky to work, and this week we were programmed to max out on some power lifts. I think I've done a decent job easing up, by skipping deadlift and squat PR attempts, and scaling and/or modifying the conditioning portions. I just can never tell if my legs feel tired/sluggish/strange from running less.
I'm just getting excited. I'll try and have a race report up afterwards. I'll leave around noon tomorrow to get there in the early afternoon. Race starts 12:01am Saturday morning!
Soundtrack:
"I am a Stone" by Demon Hunter
"The Songwriter" by Staple
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