A preemptive Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. I hope you have a great holiday with your family and friends. My gang is gathering in San Jose, at my sister's house. I'm excited for all of us to get together. It's also only my second time across the country, and the Bay Area is suppose to have some really neat outdoor activities. Our family plans on doing some hiking/exploring in Muir Woods. And I may be going out for a good run with a friend of mine who lives out there. My dad also wants to run across the Golden Gate Bridge! I think that sounds cool as well.
My recovery is going OK, but I'm still feeling that lingering fatigue. I'm also having a hard time listening to that fatigue: it's that weird stage where I misinterpret exertional fatigue for that lingering fatigue. That is, I think I'm going to natural run slower because I feel tired or I think I am already running slower because I feel so tired. And in actuality I'm feeling so tired because I'm running too damn hard. Hmmm. I'm paying too much attention to the cardiovascular system; I don't feel my heart racing so I think I can't be running too hard. But really I'm putting a lot of stress on my legs.
Work is going well and so is the EMT class. We had a "provider night" which was really like a mini- job fair. They were all EMS services/programs. But oddly, after speaking to one guy, I got to thinking about rescue specialist jobs. This is normally handled through fire departments, and I really don't know anything about it. But thinking about the extrication and water rescue type stuff.
Once we get back from San Jose, my brother and I will be taking care of my sister's two little terriers. I'm excited and apprehensive. I hope I don't kill 'em. Or get annoyed with 'em. Or forget about 'em.... Oh boy.
At some point I want to make some changes to this blog. Not a whole lot, but maybe more information aka pages with informational type stuff. We'll see.
Soundtrack:
"Pressure" by Paramore
"The Best Day of My Life" by American Authors
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Bucket listing
Note to self: don't ever plan on writing a blog post at the end of a long day at work. You don't want to, and those creative juices are BLAH.... I actually started this on Wednesday but I don't think I'll finish it until Saturday.
I'm the typical groove of post-race. I'm anxious to get to another one. I'm scouring the web, looking up races that I've never heard of, in cool places. I'm catching up on all the ultra-forums I know of, reading about training theories, opinions, new/old races. It's an exciting time. I also think part of it is gearing up for a new training season. As I get ready to lay out a training plan, I tend to go back to the websites I've used before. I want to look for new information, as well as reaffirm the training concepts I've held to before.
I also have to be careful. Last year I was spot on to avoid getting into "training." I was running again by this point, but made a point not to get into a training mindset. When I'm training, I'll try to look over little tweaks and aggravations in the legs, resting only if it gets worse or doesn't start to get better. So when I'm not training, I'll still run but if something's not right, I take time off. So when I do start training I'm at 100%. However, with my goals for Umstead, I'm already feeling self-pressured to put in quality time on my feet.
But the past few weeks I've had fun looking up other races. Local, national, and global I love reading about cool and tough races. A couple of good resources for my discovery are ultrarunning.com and ultramarathonrunning.com. Of course, I couldn't help but read up on Western States (WSER). And they're list of qualifying 100 mi and 100K races really narrows in on the tougher and more spectacular courses.
My problem is I always end up defaulting to local races. At my age and financial situation, it's hard to justify destination races across the country or internationally (there is a WSER qualifier in Scotland I thought was cool). Furthermore, there's SO many within a few hours drive, it could take years to make the rounds around those.
A poorly organized list of "global" races are: Western States 100, Hardrock 100, West Highland Way (Scotland, 95 mi), Pine to Palm 100 (Oregon), Patagonia Run (Argentina, 100 mi), Cascade Crest 100 (Washington), Tahoe 200 (YES! 200 miles!)
And poorly organized locally: Uwharrie 40, Grindstone 100, The BEAST Series, Thunder Rock (NEW race in 2014, Chattanooga, TN), RockCreek Stage Race. Leatherwood 50 (Ferguson, NC)
There's really just too many.
Loving my return to running. I'm still feeling a little sluggish, but always enjoy pounding my feet. I still need to narrow down what type of tune up races I want to do after the new year. I really want to iron out some of the nutrition quirks I've expereienced, and a race will be the best place to do that. The key will be not to race too often, or too far. I have high aims for Umstead, and I CANNOT go into it fatigued.
Soundtrack:
"Coming Back to Life" by Blindside; title says it all about how I feel about getting back to running
"The Smile, The Face" by Emery, this lyric "But though my heart [I say body] is breaking open, know that I will not be broken"
I'm the typical groove of post-race. I'm anxious to get to another one. I'm scouring the web, looking up races that I've never heard of, in cool places. I'm catching up on all the ultra-forums I know of, reading about training theories, opinions, new/old races. It's an exciting time. I also think part of it is gearing up for a new training season. As I get ready to lay out a training plan, I tend to go back to the websites I've used before. I want to look for new information, as well as reaffirm the training concepts I've held to before.
I also have to be careful. Last year I was spot on to avoid getting into "training." I was running again by this point, but made a point not to get into a training mindset. When I'm training, I'll try to look over little tweaks and aggravations in the legs, resting only if it gets worse or doesn't start to get better. So when I'm not training, I'll still run but if something's not right, I take time off. So when I do start training I'm at 100%. However, with my goals for Umstead, I'm already feeling self-pressured to put in quality time on my feet.
But the past few weeks I've had fun looking up other races. Local, national, and global I love reading about cool and tough races. A couple of good resources for my discovery are ultrarunning.com and ultramarathonrunning.com. Of course, I couldn't help but read up on Western States (WSER). And they're list of qualifying 100 mi and 100K races really narrows in on the tougher and more spectacular courses.
My problem is I always end up defaulting to local races. At my age and financial situation, it's hard to justify destination races across the country or internationally (there is a WSER qualifier in Scotland I thought was cool). Furthermore, there's SO many within a few hours drive, it could take years to make the rounds around those.
A poorly organized list of "global" races are: Western States 100, Hardrock 100, West Highland Way (Scotland, 95 mi), Pine to Palm 100 (Oregon), Patagonia Run (Argentina, 100 mi), Cascade Crest 100 (Washington), Tahoe 200 (YES! 200 miles!)
And poorly organized locally: Uwharrie 40, Grindstone 100, The BEAST Series, Thunder Rock (NEW race in 2014, Chattanooga, TN), RockCreek Stage Race. Leatherwood 50 (Ferguson, NC)
There's really just too many.
Loving my return to running. I'm still feeling a little sluggish, but always enjoy pounding my feet. I still need to narrow down what type of tune up races I want to do after the new year. I really want to iron out some of the nutrition quirks I've expereienced, and a race will be the best place to do that. The key will be not to race too often, or too far. I have high aims for Umstead, and I CANNOT go into it fatigued.
Soundtrack:
"Coming Back to Life" by Blindside; title says it all about how I feel about getting back to running
"The Smile, The Face" by Emery, this lyric "But though my heart [I say body] is breaking open, know that I will not be broken"
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Mountain Masochist Trail Run
An incredible weekend. A crazy, painful, exciting race through the mountains that really tested my limits.
Friday night was the packet pickup and pre-race dinner in Lynchburg. I picked up my race bag, bib number 295. I chatted with the rest of the gang from Raleigh and other friends I knew from the Lynchburg Series. Dinner was all about the carbo-load. Afterwards was a great and entertaining pre-race meeting.
Race morning started with a 3:45 wake-up. I dropped Todd off at Mtizi's and made my way over the Liberty Conference Center to pick up my bus ride to the start. On the way to the race start, I tried to zone in and listened to my iPod. Once at the KOA campground, a pit stop later, I was geared up to go. Always on time, Dr. Zealand started the race promptly at 6:30. HERE. WE. GO.
I went off like a gun. I had some ambitious race goals and wanted to really push my limits. Normally I try to start off easy and pick through people as the day wears on. This time I was anxious to get clear of the field early on. The hardest part was knowing my place in the field. I always knew there were plenty ahead of me, but never knowing EXACTLY how many. I tried to pick up on little tidbits of information from the runners around me; noticing one talk about his top 5 at one race; another talking about the shoes he "got" from Scott (a race company).
Most of the line up occurs before the first aid station. They had moved that first one to about 7.5 miles out; knowing so I took a gel early before reaching that aid station. There was fair bit of slight but long climbing. The kind that's not too steep to walk up, but running up the whole way is incredible taxing. In the past I may have walked, but feeling bold I ran essentially all of it. And of course after the long climb there was a crazy descent. In a similarly bold fashion, I bombed down the hill, knowing that I was thoroughly trashing my quads.
By aid station 4, at mile 17.5, I knew I would paying for my pace later. I had come through in about 2.5 hours, on 7:30 pace. My nutrition seemed OK. I was drinking at least of cup of Gu Juice at each aid station and taking several items of table food. I was fairly comfortable gear-wise. I finally learned to be intentionally cold, wearing just a T-shirt, gloves, and arm warmers. In the shady spots I was only slighty cool, in the sun only slightly warm. Later in the day I would shed both.
Aid stations were relatively close in this first half. I think I got over eager to get ahead of my nutrition and ended up eating too much. I had a very similar experience to Umstead and going into Long Mtn Wayside (26.2 miles in), I was getting uneasy with table food. I was slowing switching from cookies and junk towards bananas and grapes. But I knew that would be ending soon too. My legs were suffering. I wish I could be more descriptive than "UP" but I just can't. It was always just SO slight, but SO long. You could never see the top. You start walking and wishing you didn't have to. And by the time you get to a run-able sections, you're still tired and no longer want to run. The climb right up to half-way was brutal, and right out of half-way was going to be rough.
A lot more the climbing happens in the second half. And there's a lot more technical sections, which just exacerbates the need to hike. Fortunately this year there wasn't any snow. Now, for most of the technical sections, I really didn't think the lack of snow made a difference. Snow-cover, or leaf-covered, you couldn't get traction or get your stride right. The only part was the out-n-back to the summit in the loop, which I felt wasn't as torturous as last year. After leaving Long Mountain, I had essentially given up on solid calories. Now every aid station consisted of pounding back Mountain Dew and a little bit of ginger ale. As my stomach started to empty, and I occasionally popped some salt pills, my energy steadily improved (as it can during a 50 mile race).
Now, when you are doing the Loop, and you hear about this out-n-back summit, you may think "Ah, the summit, it's all down hill from there." Well, it's not, and for me that's what makes the next section so awful. Now you're within 12 miles of the finish, but you are nowhere near done climbing. Here are the most technical sections and the steepest climbs. Maybe not the worst climb, but being so close to the end, when you see the trail start weaving upward, you can't help but feel helpless and frustrated. As you run the mileage in your head you think "9 miles? I can push through and RUN 9 miles." Guess what? You can't.
The Salt Log Gap aid station and Forest Valley station are only 1.2 miles apart, but have the last fire road-type inclines that take it out of you. You come into Forest Valley, the penultimate aid station, ready for some good news. Nope. "You're next aid station is 4.1 miles away. Fuel up because it's going to be HARD." I slam back more Mtn Dew and head out. Probably about a mile in, I take my last salt pill, and washing it down, realize I'm also taking my last bit of water. So now I have a dry 3 miles to go. This is by far the most soul-sucking segment. At one point the trail is so steep and narrow; even with my good placement and time, I'm thinking "I don't know if I can do this." You put everything you have out there for a few more hundred yards and then it eases up and you just submit to the trail and keep going.
With about a mile until Porters Ridge, the last station, it eases up some. Coming into the Porters Ridge, I'm getting excited. I go in, get my soda. I'm told the remaining damage: 3.75 miles to go. It's all downhill. The last bit of soda has me pumping, and I am surging with energy. I'm so close to the goal, my focus narrows. My quads are on fire but I keep on driving forward. With two miles to go, the descent becomes a plummet, and I just wince and cry to myself. But I know I'm so close, at this point I'll take everything that hard surface can give me. I make the final turns and power through to the finish.
The final damage: 8:35:23 for 21st place, and 43 minute course PR.
I almost say I once again "conquered" Masochist, but that doesn't sound right. Nor would I say the Masochist conquered me. But like every ultra, I gave the race everything I had and the reward it gave back was indescribable. The feeling of being emptied of all your energy is incredible. It's hard to say where things will go from here. I am returning to the Umstead 100 in the spring, and how I get there is to be determined.
And to be continued...
EDIT: I have to give a shout out to the rest of the Raleigh gang: Daren, Todd, Mitzi, and Elaine. EVERYONE finished MMTR and they ALL finished the Lynchburg Ultra Series. It was close, but they finished together which was a fantastic way complete the race and series. Congratulations you guys.
Friday night was the packet pickup and pre-race dinner in Lynchburg. I picked up my race bag, bib number 295. I chatted with the rest of the gang from Raleigh and other friends I knew from the Lynchburg Series. Dinner was all about the carbo-load. Afterwards was a great and entertaining pre-race meeting.
Race morning started with a 3:45 wake-up. I dropped Todd off at Mtizi's and made my way over the Liberty Conference Center to pick up my bus ride to the start. On the way to the race start, I tried to zone in and listened to my iPod. Once at the KOA campground, a pit stop later, I was geared up to go. Always on time, Dr. Zealand started the race promptly at 6:30. HERE. WE. GO.
I went off like a gun. I had some ambitious race goals and wanted to really push my limits. Normally I try to start off easy and pick through people as the day wears on. This time I was anxious to get clear of the field early on. The hardest part was knowing my place in the field. I always knew there were plenty ahead of me, but never knowing EXACTLY how many. I tried to pick up on little tidbits of information from the runners around me; noticing one talk about his top 5 at one race; another talking about the shoes he "got" from Scott (a race company).
Most of the line up occurs before the first aid station. They had moved that first one to about 7.5 miles out; knowing so I took a gel early before reaching that aid station. There was fair bit of slight but long climbing. The kind that's not too steep to walk up, but running up the whole way is incredible taxing. In the past I may have walked, but feeling bold I ran essentially all of it. And of course after the long climb there was a crazy descent. In a similarly bold fashion, I bombed down the hill, knowing that I was thoroughly trashing my quads.
By aid station 4, at mile 17.5, I knew I would paying for my pace later. I had come through in about 2.5 hours, on 7:30 pace. My nutrition seemed OK. I was drinking at least of cup of Gu Juice at each aid station and taking several items of table food. I was fairly comfortable gear-wise. I finally learned to be intentionally cold, wearing just a T-shirt, gloves, and arm warmers. In the shady spots I was only slighty cool, in the sun only slightly warm. Later in the day I would shed both.
Aid stations were relatively close in this first half. I think I got over eager to get ahead of my nutrition and ended up eating too much. I had a very similar experience to Umstead and going into Long Mtn Wayside (26.2 miles in), I was getting uneasy with table food. I was slowing switching from cookies and junk towards bananas and grapes. But I knew that would be ending soon too. My legs were suffering. I wish I could be more descriptive than "UP" but I just can't. It was always just SO slight, but SO long. You could never see the top. You start walking and wishing you didn't have to. And by the time you get to a run-able sections, you're still tired and no longer want to run. The climb right up to half-way was brutal, and right out of half-way was going to be rough.
A lot more the climbing happens in the second half. And there's a lot more technical sections, which just exacerbates the need to hike. Fortunately this year there wasn't any snow. Now, for most of the technical sections, I really didn't think the lack of snow made a difference. Snow-cover, or leaf-covered, you couldn't get traction or get your stride right. The only part was the out-n-back to the summit in the loop, which I felt wasn't as torturous as last year. After leaving Long Mountain, I had essentially given up on solid calories. Now every aid station consisted of pounding back Mountain Dew and a little bit of ginger ale. As my stomach started to empty, and I occasionally popped some salt pills, my energy steadily improved (as it can during a 50 mile race).
Now, when you are doing the Loop, and you hear about this out-n-back summit, you may think "Ah, the summit, it's all down hill from there." Well, it's not, and for me that's what makes the next section so awful. Now you're within 12 miles of the finish, but you are nowhere near done climbing. Here are the most technical sections and the steepest climbs. Maybe not the worst climb, but being so close to the end, when you see the trail start weaving upward, you can't help but feel helpless and frustrated. As you run the mileage in your head you think "9 miles? I can push through and RUN 9 miles." Guess what? You can't.
The Salt Log Gap aid station and Forest Valley station are only 1.2 miles apart, but have the last fire road-type inclines that take it out of you. You come into Forest Valley, the penultimate aid station, ready for some good news. Nope. "You're next aid station is 4.1 miles away. Fuel up because it's going to be HARD." I slam back more Mtn Dew and head out. Probably about a mile in, I take my last salt pill, and washing it down, realize I'm also taking my last bit of water. So now I have a dry 3 miles to go. This is by far the most soul-sucking segment. At one point the trail is so steep and narrow; even with my good placement and time, I'm thinking "I don't know if I can do this." You put everything you have out there for a few more hundred yards and then it eases up and you just submit to the trail and keep going.
With about a mile until Porters Ridge, the last station, it eases up some. Coming into the Porters Ridge, I'm getting excited. I go in, get my soda. I'm told the remaining damage: 3.75 miles to go. It's all downhill. The last bit of soda has me pumping, and I am surging with energy. I'm so close to the goal, my focus narrows. My quads are on fire but I keep on driving forward. With two miles to go, the descent becomes a plummet, and I just wince and cry to myself. But I know I'm so close, at this point I'll take everything that hard surface can give me. I make the final turns and power through to the finish.
The final damage: 8:35:23 for 21st place, and 43 minute course PR.
I almost say I once again "conquered" Masochist, but that doesn't sound right. Nor would I say the Masochist conquered me. But like every ultra, I gave the race everything I had and the reward it gave back was indescribable. The feeling of being emptied of all your energy is incredible. It's hard to say where things will go from here. I am returning to the Umstead 100 in the spring, and how I get there is to be determined.
And to be continued...
EDIT: I have to give a shout out to the rest of the Raleigh gang: Daren, Todd, Mitzi, and Elaine. EVERYONE finished MMTR and they ALL finished the Lynchburg Ultra Series. It was close, but they finished together which was a fantastic way complete the race and series. Congratulations you guys.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Catch you on the other side
Heading out in about half an hour to drive up to Lynchburg for the Mountain Masochist Trail Run. The training is in the bag, the gear is the bag. Everything is set. I'll do a better race report once it's over.
Everyone have a good weekend. My brother is doing a Tough Mudder Sunday afternoon, after my dad does his first 10k run that morning.
Soundtrack:
"Misery Business" by Paramore
"Everything" by The Classic Crime
Everyone have a good weekend. My brother is doing a Tough Mudder Sunday afternoon, after my dad does his first 10k run that morning.
Soundtrack:
"Misery Business" by Paramore
"Everything" by The Classic Crime
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