Is it possible?

Is the leg healed? I did a hilly 85 minute run last night on hard surface. I felt a few random sensations in my leg here and there, but they might have been completely psychosomatic. I'm definitely in terrible running shape, and I'm carrying extra weight that wasn't there before. Those factors could be contributing to extra stress on my body as I attempt to ease back in to this running thing. I definitely don't feel the shooting pain anymore when I put pressure on the bone. All signs are pointing in the right direction. I don't want to jinx myself, but maybe on my next run I'm going to suffer compound fracture of my tibia. We'll see...

2011 Ironman World Championship

If you missed the NBC airing a few weeks ago, there's an encore showing tonight on Universal Sports.

You can also watch on youtube:

Pick 'Em Fundraiser for Charity

As you may or may not know, Katie and I are raising $15,000 for the Wisconsin Chapter of the MS Society in conjunction with Ironman Wisconsin. We're doing a last-minute College Bowl Pick 'Em as a quick fundraiser.

Here's the details:

$20 entry. $15 to charity. Remaining $5 goes in the pot. Winner gets 60%, 2nd place gets 25%, 3rd place gets 15%. leave me a note and/or email if you want in. Only 2 days to get in!

We're on the honor system here, but make a $20 payment via paypal to vetteobsession at hotmail dot com and then go sign up and make your picks.

To accept the invitation, just follow this link http://football.fantasysports.yahoo.com/bowl/register/joinprivategroup_assign_team?GID=31977&P=2012ironman. For reference, here's the group information.

Group ID#: 31977
Password: 2012ironman

If you aren't interested in the Pick 'em, but would just like to make a donation, you can do so here: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=4555832&fr_id=18226&pg=personal

Frustration

Just when I thought I was climbing my way back into running, pain returned.  Its in a slightly different location, but it is much more obvious and persistent than before.  It looks like a doctor's appointment is forthcoming after Thanksgiving, barring a miracle.

Slow road to recovery

I was able to run 35 minutes today with, what I think was, no pain.  I'm still paranoid, but I'm fairly sure I got through that without any issues.  Today was my third day in a row running, but I'm not going to feel confident until I've gone at least a couple weeks without any issues.  Tomorrow is a rest day.

If I can get through another week, I'll start working on a training plan to get me on track for Houston and beyond.

20 Minute test...

...passed!

I went out tonight for a slow 20 minute jog and completed it with no pain.  There's still no guarantee that the stress fracture is gone, but so far, so good.  I'm not feeling any pain when putting pressure on the bone and its not hurting at a (very) slow pace on soft surface.  I'll bump it up another five minutes tomorrow and see what happens.

Although things seem to be moving in the right direction, I'm in the "paranoia stage" that comes with returning from injury.  Its the stage where you think every little twinge or pressure is the injury coming back.  Its the stage where every fiber of your being is concentrating on that single, small part of your body that not so long ago put an end to your training plans.  You concentrate so hard on that point that you conjure up false moments of pain that cast doubt.  As soon as you push that thought out, another enters.  Only health and time can end the paranoia.

IMWI: A Mission to Raise Money for the MS Society

Katie and I have recently embarked on a year-long fundraising effort, which will culminate with Ironman Wisconsin. The idea was hatched 8 months or so ago when Katie and I were discussing her tackling her first Ironman. She mentioned she wanted to raise money for the MS Society, and I told her I'd join her effort.

Why the MS Society? Kaite's mother is battling MS. So is her cousin. My mother's best friend battled the disease for years.

We'll be doing several events and fundraisers over the next year to raise funds, as we've set a $15,000 goal. This isn't a Team in Training type deal...We paid our race entry fees. We are paying our travel fees. We are paying for our equipment. Your money goes directly to the Wisconsin Chapter of the MS Society ( where Katie's mother lives

You can read more about our individual mission on the donation page, so I won't continue to bore you.

If you have some extra cash and would like to support our efforts, We'd appreciate it.

One final note: To show my commitment to this effort, I've issued a challenge: If any single donation is $5000 or more, I will repeat the IMWI course on 9.10.12 (the day after IMWI).

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=4555832&fr_id=18226&pg=personal

Slow Road to Recovery?

After four weeks off from running, I had a little test last night: 10 minutes of running at a very easy pace.

No pain.  I passed. 

Tonight? 15 minutes.

Stress Fracture

Well, my running days are on hold.  I've had some pain in my shin for a few weeks now, but kept running because I didn't want to accept that something may be wrong.  However, I've finally had to accept that fact that most likely I have a tibial stress fracture.  I'm still a month from my insurance kicking in, so I've not seen a doctor.  However, its fairly obvious at this point that its what the issue is...all the symptoms are there.

So much for Cactus Rose.  Most likely so much for a PR at the Houston Marathon.  And I'm not even sure I'll be able to get the proper training in for Rocky Raccoon.

Changes to Ironman World Championship Qualifying & Lottery

Read about them here.

If you don't want to read the synopsis or listen to the podcast that is linked, here are the highlights:

if you’ve raced 12 or more Ironman branded triathlons (full 140.6 distance only), then you’ll get automatic qualification – coming out of the existing lottery pool.  However, since some folks have raced quite a few more, then they’ll be sorting them by total number of races entered.  Thus, just because you’ve raced 12, doesn’t mean you have an automatic entry into Kona in 2012.

For the remaining lottery slots, they’ll be introducing waiting system, based on waiting list. Going back six years, each time you entered – adds a ticket to the lottery.  

Essentially, what this does is give an AQ to people who've done a lot of IM-branded events, but its still limited to the number of lottery spots available.  Just because you've done 12 IMs, doesn't mean you are getting in.  There are athletes on both sides of the argument, some love it, some hate it.

From a business perspective it's genius.  There are scores of "weekend warriors" out there that go get their M-dot at a WTC event and then transition over to other 140.6 events to save some money because they know they'll never qualify for Kona.  Now these people will be pouring their money into IM events looking to gain that Kona spot.  Not only that, but it makes the remaining lottery spots that much more coveted.  They'll still be raking in the money from lottery registrations.  The "waiting list" works to ensure people will continually sign up for the lottery to get extra tickets.  And lastly, they just created more demand for their events.  The magic number is 12.  People are going to be targeting their twelfth race. At the current IM registration price, that $7860 that WTC can count on from a lot of folks.

I know a lot of people complain about WTC.  Say what you want about them, but they have some really smart folks working for them.  They are staying a step ahead of the competition.  With the HITS Tri Series starting and Rev3 expanding, this is a brilliant move to keep athletes coming back to the IM races.

Even as someone who is a purist and thinks you should have to qualify for Kona (and Boston) to participate, this new rule has me at least pondering the idea.

Perspective

Take a look at this list:

1:01:49 - 13.1 miles
29:15 - 10K

14:37 - 5K
4:43 - 1 mile
2:20 - 800m
1:10 - 400m

How far down the list do you have to go before you can run one of the listed time/distance?  If trained, I could run a 2:20 800m, but it would be hard.  I know a handful of people that can run a sub-4:43 mile.  I even know a handful of people who can run a 14:37 5K (I use to work with and around a bunch of former collegiate runners).  I know a few people who can pull off that 10K time.  I even know one person who can run that half marathon time, but he's Ethiopian.  The every day runner may not know anyone who can hit any of those times.  Maybe they have a "fast" friend who can run the 400 or the 800, but to most people those times are not even close to conceivable.

What all those times have in common is that they are all the same pace--4:43/mile.  That's the pace that Patrick Makau ran for 26.2 miles a couple weeks ago at Berlin when he set the new world record.

My (running) Life in Medals: Mt. Washington Road Race

"There's only one hill," the race director says.  Its true, but its not funny.  I'd hiked Mt. Washington a couple times in the summer of 2005, but I'd never really seen the auto road other than crossing it on the way to the summit.  A co-worker and I decided to throw our names into the lottery for the race, and then promptly forgot about the race.

One day I checked my email and had a note from my coach.  He had forwarded me an email from someone looking to carpool up to New Hampshire for the race.  At first, I was confused.  Then I remembered I'd put my name in the lottery.  When I checked the website, both my co-worker and I had won spots in the race, but were never notified by the race that we'd been accepted.

On race day my plan was simple: run as far as possible before walking, and then minimize walking.  There was a very short flat section before the road headed skyward.  As the incline grew, I shortened my stride and leaned into the mountain.  After mile or so, we headed into a fog.  The road changed from pavement to dirt several times as the miles continued into the clouds.  False flats felt like a heavenly break from the relentless uphill fight against gravity.

Sometime late in the race, I experienced one of the single coolest moments of my running life.  I'd been running through thick fog (clouds) for several miles when all of a sudden, I came through the upper boundary of the clouds into the sunlight.  As I looked out, I could clouds for at least a hundred miles in every direction.  Only one other mountain protruded through the sea of cotton.  It was a gorgeous sunny day above the clouds, but only us racers got to enjoy it.

The race finished with a ridiculous 23% incline.  I "ran" up the final incline and through the finish, finally allowing my screaming leg muscles to rest after 7.6 miles of uphill running.  When I got back to NYC that evening, I grabbed my bike and rode to Prospect Park to join up with City Coach for the last 65 miles of the No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn Century Ride.

My (running) Life in Medals - 5K River Relay

This race signified the first race that Katie and I took part in after our move to Austin.  It also marked the first time Katie and I had run a relay race together.  Neither of us were in great shape nor were we acclimated to the intense Texas heat.  However, we were still able to take 2nd place in the relay in 100-degree heat.  We were even highlighted in the local paper.

Review: Saucony Cortana

In my search for a new road shoe, I came across the Saucony Cortana.  I tried on just about every shoe at Rogue to try and find something I liked.  Its been a long time since I've had the freedom to choose any shoe I wanted (I was tied to Nike for several years due to work), so I went back and tried on some old favorites like the Glycerin and the Cumulus.  Now that I've put a lot of miles on the Cortanas, I feel like I can give an informed review.

This is the minimalist shoe for someone who doesn't want a minimalist shoe.  Sounds weird?  Let me explain.  These shoes only have a 4 mm heal-to-toe drop, but they have the feel of a trainer with some serious cushioning.  This shoe has a very soft ride, especially in the forefoot.  Its essentially a high-end, cushioned trainer that still promotes a more efficient stride (midfoot/forefoot striking).  Think about the comfort of an Asics Nimbus combined with the minimalist feature of a NB Minimus.

The Cortana has the classic Saucony last.  Think of a "V."  Its a little more narrow at the heel with a nice, roomy forefoot.  If you have narrow feet, there's a good chance your foot is going to slide around up front.  The upper is pretty breathable, which keeps your feet cool, especially if you live in Texas like I do.

There are a couple things I don't really like about the shoe.  I can definitely feel some extra friction under the ball of my foot, but that seems to be pretty common with the minimalist shoes I've tried out.  The price is another big negative.  At an MSRP of $145, it makes me think twice about purchasing this shoe every couple months during high mileage training.

If you use the Nike+ sensor or just want to store something small, each shoe has a pocket in the tongue, so that's a positive.  A completely useless, but kind of cool, feature is the logo on the tongue.  If you ever collected baseball cards, you'll remember Sportflics.  The logo has that same "motion," alternating between "Saucony" and "Cortana"

My conclusion:  Its a nice, soft ride that might be worth checking out of the price point was lower.  At $145, I can't justify this shoe being my regular trainer, especially when you can get a similar shoe like the Kinvara for about $90.  Another issue for me is the slow transition into a minimalist shoe.  I've been running into a lot of nagging injuries because of the minimalist shoes, and I'm a midfoot striker already.  I don't have the time or desire to make a full-time switch, especially since I've been mostly injury-free in regular shoes.  If you are already in a minimalist shoe and you are looking for more cushioning, it might be worth a look, assuming you've got a decent chunk of extra cash laying around.

My (running) Life in Medals - 2011 Ironman Texas

When I heard the rumors that Ironman Texas was going to happen, I thought to myself, "I couldn't pass up inaugural Texas race."  I was still living in NYC, so I knew training for a May Ironman would be difficult with the New York winter.  When the race became a reality, I posted a link on Facebook that announced the race. My family mistook that as my announcement that I had registered.  Their excitement pretty much sealed it for me.  I registered a week later while in vacation in Wisconsin.

Fast forward a year and my life had changed quite a bit.  I had moved to Dallas for work, which was great for training.  However, I had spent five months apart from my girlfriend and had my entire social life ripped away from me due to the move.  I was losing my job and planning my move to Austin.  My girlfriend was about to uproot her life in NYC and join me in Austin--the unemployed couple.

I had logged a lot of training miles and felt pretty good, although I had missed a few long rides and I was worried about the 2.4 mile swim with no wet suit.  Race day arrived and I felt pretty calm.  As I entered the water, I felt confident and at peace.  However, as soon as the gun went off, my heart rate skyrocketed and I could breathe.  The anxiety was hitting me just like it did a year and a half before at IMAZ.  After twenty minutes of over-expending energy, I settled down and set about completing the swim.  My swim time was slower than my previous Ironman time, but I was just happy to get out of the water.

Once on my bike, I hammered my way through the 112 miles, feeling amazing during the entire ride.  I had no back issues, keeping me in aero position for 95%+ of the ride.  I averaged just short of 21.5 mph and have visions of coming of the bike and running my way to a new PR.  However, after my first loop of the course, the heat and humidity took its toll.  I started to slow and then my intestines decided to knot themselves into a painful ball in my stomach, leaving me in intense pain for miles.  The end result was a marathon that was over an hour and a half longer than I had anticipated.

The race didn't go as I'd hoped, but allowed me to once again prove to myself that I can persevere.  It also left the door open for another IM attempt, knowing I still have unfinished business.

Ultra Advice: Choosing a Trail Shoe

If you are running an ultra, you are most likely going to be hitting trails.  While there are plenty of ultras out there that use roads, the majority take you off-road and onto uneven surfaces.  Choosing a trail shoe is a little different than choosing your regular trainer.  It's not difficult, but there are a few things to be aware of.

You've already (hopefully) been fitted for running shoes, so you know if you wear a neutral or stability shoe.  However, you may notice that a lot of trail shoes don't have a medial post to correct over-pronation.  This is due to the theory that in trail running, your foot rarely hits the ground the same way.  This eliminates a lot of the repetitive motion/stress that causes many of the common running injuries.  Also, the softer surface helps lessen the stress and impact on the body.  You will find some trail shoes with medial posts like some of the Salomon shoes.  So you are probably now wondering, "Do I need stability in my trail shoes or not?"  Unfortunately, the only way to know is to test it out.

Don't be fooled by "trail" shoes like the Adrenaline ASR, Trail Pegasus, and Adidas Response Trail.  These aren't really true trail shoes.  Essentially a company will take a shoe they already manufacture and slap a little extra rubber on the bottom, rearrange the tread pattern, change the color, and call it a trail shoe.  What you really jus bought is a heavier version of the original shoe.  Sure there are some marginal benefits of increased traction, but overall they aren't much better on trails than their lighter counterpart.

The type of surface you run on or plan to run on plays a big role in what type of trail shoe you run in.  A lot of people's idea of a trail doesn't require a technical shoe.  There are many crushed granite, smooth dirt, rails to trails, and similar surfaces out there that people all trails.  While there's nothing wrong with these types of trail, a mostly smooth surface doesn't really require a trail shoe.  If you run on this type of trail and have no desire to get into some nasty single-track, then just wear your normal trainer.  You'll get them a little dirty, but they'll perform wonderfully.

If your race and/or training will cause you to encounter rocky surfaces, you'll want to find a shoe with a rock plate (or shield) to protect the bottom of your feet.  Shoes like the Brooks Cascadia and the NB MT101, while very different shoes, both have a nice rock plate built into the outsole.  You'll notice a significant difference with a rock plate or shield on a very rocky trail. Without the added protection, its not uncommon to see bruising on the bottom of the feet.

Another factor to to take into account is whether or not your race have any water crossings.  If so, you'll want a shoe that will drain water easily.  You'll want to find a shoe that drains water quickly, not a shoe that keeps water out.  Gor-tex shoes are built to keep moisture out of your shoe, which initially sounds good but has a couple drawbacks.  One is that the shoes won't breathe, so you're feet will sweat a lot more.  The bigger issue is that if you are doing a race with water more than ankle deep, water is getting in your shoe.  Once the water is in, Gor-tex won't allow it to drain very quickly.  Water in your shoes can cause blisters and adds weight to the shoe.

Here are a few other considerations to look for in a trail shoe.  I personally like the shoe to have some sort of reinforced toe.  The toe guard really helps when you eventually stub your toe on a rock or root.  It happens, especially when you are fatigued.  I also like a shoe that has some lateral protection.  You don't typically encounter into sticks/rocks poking the side of your foot too often, but it does happen.  When it does, having a little extra protection pays off.  Lastly, you'll need to figure out what balance you seek in the design of the upper of the shoe.  A nice breathable mesh goes a long way to keeping your feet cool and comfortable during a race, but that same open mesh will allow a lot more dirt and sand into the shoe.

While I mentioned a few trail shoes in this post, this point was not to recommend any shoe to you.  I was merely pointing out features and things to be aware of while shopping for a trail shoe.  You'll need to read up on shoes to see what matches the type of trail/ultra running you'll be doing, and then go to a running store to start trying on shoes.

Over the past few years my dad has gotten a little more involve in woodworking.  I asked him if he could make me a simple shelf with some hooks on it to display running medals on.  The next time I was at my parent's house, he had a drawing of something a little nicer and the next, he had built a prototype.  Now I have this:

There are some ideas/improvements being tossed around, but if you are interested in one of these or one similar, let me know as I'm sure we can work out details.

Difficult Decisions

The last few months have been quite humbling.  After successfully completely 10 marathons, 6 ultras, and 2 Ironmans without a DNF on my record, I recorded two in two attempts.  The first, I dropped to help someone else.  The second was due to my own issues.  After, I continued to battle a strange foot issue.  I was able to shake the pseudo-injury, but in the process I lost a lot of training toward the Cactus Rose 100.  Initially, I accepted the fact that I would be running the race under-trained, however, the more I thought about it the more I realized I was not in any shape to attempt the race.  I struggle with this knowledge for several days before finally having a discussion with Katie.  It was finally an admission that I needed to forgo the 100 attempt.  I had already made the decision before calling her, but I needed to hear myself say it out loud.

I emailed the race director and asked if he could change my entry from the 100 to the 50.  My new plan is to run the 50 at Cactus Rose and then make my debut at the 100 mile distance in February at Rocky Raccoon.  I guess I'm learning and getting smarter in my old age...

Review: Simple Hydration Bottle

I was given a Simple Hydration water bottle to test out.  It has a simple little design that allows the water bottle to slide into the back of your shorts and "hook" onto your waistband.  The bottle is even contoured so that it lies flat against your lower back.  Check out the video:

Seemed like an interesting product, so I agreed to give it a try.  I initially filled the bottle with water and did  an easy jog around down the street.  I immediately felt the bottle bouncing up and down.  It wasn't terrible, but definitely noticeable.  I then went out on a 4 mile run.  When I returned, I tested the bottle in several ways.  I wanted to try the bottle out when I was sweaty to see if it would increase the amount of bouncing.  My hypothesis was correct, as the bottle bounced even more with sweat essentially creating lubricant between the bottle and the skin.

Next, I tried the bottle slid through a SPIbelt, as shown in the video.  While it didn't bounce quite as much, it was still quite noticeable.  Lastly, I looped the bottle through the SPIbelt and into the back of my shorts.  This provided the most stability, almost neutralizing the bounce at a slower pace.  However, regardless of how the bottle was worn, at a fast pace, the bottle bounced a lot.  This is not a product that I could ever use while doing a race.

I did another round of tests with the bottle 3/4 and 1/2 full.  As you would expect, bouncing was reduced as the volume of water decreased, but unless it was through the SPIbelt and into the shorts, the bottle bounce enough to be noticeable.

One other thing I noticed was the seam on the water bottle.  The seam wasn't smooth at all, which I'd imagine would chafe the hell out of you on a longer run.  I didn't test this hypothesis (and won't), because I just can't see myself being able to cope with the bouncing for that many miles.  The seam on the bottle really should be on the sides, but that would likely require new molds and/or a new process for making the bottle.  Right now, they produce two pieces that are mirrors of each other and fuse them together.  Perhaps they can spend a little more time smoothing those seams down.

One last thing that comes to mind with this product is water temperature.  The bottle is sitting on your back, so the water is going to be quite warm when you drink it, although it might be a positive if you live in the north and you are running in the winter.  That does bring up one test I did not do: tucking this bottle into running tights.  Those might fit tight enough to keep it in place.

At $20 and a whole list of negatives, I'd pass on this one.  I imagine if you are back-of-the-pack runner, this product might work for you, but you'll probably need to coat it in a thick layer of body glide.

2012 IM Wisconsin

Katie and I both registered for IMWI on Monday.  We waited in line for 3+ hours to register on-site in Madison.  This will be my third Ironman and Katie's first.

Stay tuned for a big announcement regarding our participation in this race...

My (running) Life in Medals - 2011 River Cities Triathlon

When I registered for this race, I was living in Dallas.  I'd just moved out of my beloved NYC after 5+ years and was living apart from my girlfriend, who was still up north.  I registered for the race mostly out of peer pressure, as there was a group of people from a health and fitness forum I post on that were going.  I knew a couple of the guys, but mostly, I was going to compete/race with a bunch of internet friends.

By the time the race rolled around, I was living in Austin and I had been reunited with my wonderful girlfriend. I also had no job.  I also had only been on my bike twice in two months.  And to top things off, I'd only been in the pool a handful of times in a couple months.  But I'd been running....a lot.  I knew I had overall fitness, but I had no clue how the race would go.

My friend Dave and I decided to carpool to the race.  Consequently, Dave and I ran cross country together when we were in high school but had only seen each other once since, and that meeting was about two months prior.  We had successfully found some space in a hotel room with one of the other racers.

On race day, the water temperature was in the low 90s.  As I swam, I could feel my body heating up and I was sweating buckets.  Roughly after the halfway point, I could feel the fatigue from lack of swimming kick in and my upper body began to tire.  With each stroke, I prayed for the shore to move closer.  Once into T1, I saw Dave and we sort of joked about the swim.

Dave left transition before I did, so I didn't expect to see him again until the run.  Dave is a cyclist first and had just come off a ridiculous week of mileage at RAGBRAI.  I hadn't been on a bike more than twice in two months.  The bike was only 18.2 miles, which I knew I could fake.   I figured if I could knock it out in under and hour, I'd be doing good.  At about mile 11, I caught up to and caught Dave, which surprised me.  I was finding extended sections of the bike course that I could sustain 27-30+ miles an hour.  Once I hit mile 16, I was pedaling into a headwind and my legs started feeling fatigued, but it wasn't hard to push through the last bit of the bike.

I came off the bike and headed out on the run.  The temperature was into the mid-90s and I was overheating. I couldn't keep a decent pace for anything.  I suffered through the run, but finished just ahead of Dave.  After reviewing the times, we both laughed.  I beat Dave at his strong suit, and he beat me at mine.  That should never happen.  I guess strange things happen in Louisiana.

My (running) Life in Medals - Capt'n Karl's 60K...er 30K...um 45K?

I've still got a lot of medals to go through to finish off this series, so I figured why not start back in with the most recent medal acquired.  This one will be more or less a race report.  If you ask me, this is the medal I didn't earn...

I'm currently in the process of training for the Cactus Rose 100, so I signed up for the Capt'n Karl's 60K out at Mule Shoe Bend.  I figured it would be great practice to get some time on trails in the dark in a race setting.    I had no plans of really racing, I just wanted to get in a long training run.  However, a nice time is always appreciated.

Katie and I made the drive out.  When we left north Austin, the heat was still blazing.  In our hurry to leave, I forgot to eat dinner.  You'd think that would be important since I was set to run 37+ miles, but I got thrown off a little by the evening start.  I didn't have my usual morning routine to remind me that I need to eat.  Anyway, we ended up stopping along the way and I picked up some snacks as it was too close to race time to eat a proper meal.

We arrived and I checked in while Katie registered for the 10K (which she subsequently won).  We set up and I took care of my last minute preparations.  Before I knew it, I was lined up and the race began.  I forgot there was and out-and-back before the loops started, so when I came back through the start/finish, I waved to Katie and gave her a quick kiss before heading off into the trails.

Initially, I was moving a little faster than I needed to, but I wasn't anywhere near a race pace.  Eventually I settled in to a nice pace.  I skipped the first water stop, as I still had plenty in my water bottle but vowed to drink more water between aid stations to keep from dehydrating.  As I navigated the trails, I found that they were much more runnable than I had expected.  Although there were a few sections of pretty gnarly rock, there were extended sections of nice, smooth trail that enabled me to pick the pace up and stretch the legs.

When I hit the section aid station, I downed a gel, refilled water, and took off again.  Shortly after I left the aid station behind, I felt the washing machine in my abdomen.  Based on how I felt prior to the race start, I knew it was going to hit me, so I had stashed some toilet paper in the pocket of my water bottle strap.  Problem was, there was absolutely no cover on the course to seek.  Additionally, I had elected to wear a neon yellow shirt, so I'd essentially turned myself into a beacon in the woods if I'd decided to answer the call of nature.

My pace slowed as I pleaded for my body to hold off.  "Just hold off until I can get back to the start."  I was in dire straits, yet there was still nowhere to duck off the course.  The only positive was that it was starting to get dark outside, so that would eventually provide some extra cover.  However, there was a negative too.  I'd been told that I wouldn't need my headlamp until after the first loops, so it was hanging prettily from the handle of my cooler--at the start/finish.  As darkness encroached, the urgency in my bowels came and went, eventually subsiding enough that I was able to run almost normal again.  However, there was little light remaining, so I was essentially running blind on the course.  I could make out the trail, but I had no clue what was underfoot.  One wrong step and my day was over.  I slowed my pace to be more careful until a pair of runners with lights passed.  I tried to ride their coattails, but eventually they left me behind.

Finally I got back to the start/finish in just under 1:40.  Not bad for taking it easy, slowing to keep from crapping myself, and not being able to see anything.  It was just in time too, as my insides felt like they were going to explode.  I ran to the bathroom, but of course there was no toilet paper.  I ran back to my stuff, grabbed my stash and returned to the port-o-potties.  After, I went back down, crossed the timing mat, and refilled water.  I grabbed a few M&M's and learned of Katie's victory.  I gave her a quick kiss and headed back out for loop 2.  In the excitement, I forgot to grab nutrition for the second loop.

I made it through the first aid station with no issues, but shortly after I started feeling a slight pain on the right side of my foot.  Nothing serious but noticeable.  As I inched toward the second aid station, I could feel the lack of calories catching up to me.  I didn't eat as much as I should have prior to the race, and I'd only had a single gel.  It was over 2.5 hours into the race.  At every turn, I hoped to see the aid station, but it eluded me. I was hoping, wishing for the aid station to come soon.

Once I finally made it to the full service aid station, I loaded up on a water/gatorade mix and ate a few cookies to get some quick calories.  Almost immediately I started feeling the pick-me-up.  My pace quickened and I flew through the last third of the loop.   I came back in feeling pretty good.

Katie once again greeted me and handed me nutrition I requested.  Since I wasn't racing, I took my time and made sure I took endurolytes, refilled on gatorate, and drank about half a Mt. Dew.  Katie told me about her first place prize and then I grabbed some fruit snacks to eat once I reached the first aid station.  I set out on my third loop knowing I was already halfway done.

I was starting to feel a little fatigued, but my foot was what was worrying me.  The pain had increased and I also noticed both of my achilles were very tight.  Walking became more common.  When I ran, my gait was very awkward, almost like a limping shuffle.  I'd been through worse in other races, so I knew I could finish.  After the first aid station, things worsened.  My achilles seemed to be seizing and the spot on my right foot was getting more intense.  When I walked, things didn't hurt so much.

I made deals with myself.  "Run to that tree, then you can walk for a few seconds."  I started thinking about how I would kill for a couple ibuprofen.  There were a few beers in the cooler that were for post-race.  I even thought about drinking one of those after the lap to try to numb the pain.  This was pain due to fatigue.  No, I could and have fought through that many times.  This was something wrong with my body.

Doubt started creeping in.  Not in my ability to finish, but doubt in it being smart to continue.  I started to contemplate dropping out.  A DNF?  No way.  I argued with myself, both in my head and out loud.  In the back of my mind I think I knew I needed to drop, but I couldn't convince myself.  I finally hobbled into the second aid station and took care of my nutrition.  I triumphantly ran out of the station only to find myself once again hobbling only mere yards from the station.  Other runners passed by and offered words of encouragement, but it did little to ease the issue at hand.

I soon found myself alone on the trail once again arguing with myself.  Finally, I pseudo-accepted dropping out and called out in the darkness, "REALLY?  REALLY?  Are you really going to do this?  You're going to DNF?"  I tried running again, but could only manage a hobble and a muffled gasp.  As I tried to put the thought of a DNF out of my mind long enough to finish the lap, I heard the excruciating sound of someone retching violently somewhere in the distance.  The sound echoed and the poor soul continue to heave over and over.  I envied him.  I really did.  Vomiting is temporary; I had no clue what was going on with my foot and my achilles.  I could be looking at the end of running for a long time.

Two hours had passed since I had last been at the start/finish.  Then two and a quarter.  I hobbled on.  More runners passed offering encouragement.  Each time I would try to run, only to end in defeat.  Two and a half hours passed, and I still had not returned to see my girlfriend's smiling face.  I knew if I were to continue, it would likely take me over three hours to complete the final 9 miles and I would risk potential injury, possibly something serious.  I cast the thought out of my mind as I finally came in to the finish of the loop.

Katie immediately knew something was wrong when I came through.  She could tell just by the way I was running.  I went over the timing mat and walked straight to her.  I told her what was going on.  She could see the reluctance, both to continue and to stop.  I sat down in the chair and debated as I watch the seconds, and then minutes, tick by on my watch.

I sat for 10 minutes and debated.  I had come out for a long training run.  I'd already put in six hours, so my goal had been accomplished.  Continuing was only creating opportunity to do damage and possibly endanger my ultimate goal of running Cactus Rose.  Even still, it was hard to actually pull the trigger and drop out.  I placed my fingers on the velcro strap of my timing chip and paused.  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and pulled.  The tearing sound of the velcro releasing its grip from my leg signaled the end of my night.

Where the timing chip strap once was, there was left a clean line amid the dirt caked to my leg.  I looked at it as a badge of defeat as I hobbled over to the finish area with Katie.  I turned in my chip and admitted defeat.  I was told that I'd be dropped down to the 30K, and I was asked if I wanted the finisher's medal for the shorter race.  I said, "sure, I guess" and reluctantly took the medal.

In retrospect, I  shouldn't have taken the medal.  I didn't earn it.  That wasn't my race.  Sure, I ran farther than 30K, but I wasn't in that race.  In the end, I accepted that my day was successful as a long training run.  You don't get medals for training runs.  I didn't and don't deserve the 30K medal.  I didn't earn it.

Although I didn't earn the medal, what I did earn was the opportunity to continue preparing myself for the ultimate goal of Cactus Rose.  I made a smart decision to call it a night and live to run another day.  It's a decision that's not easy to make, and I'm proud of myself for making it.

Starting Ultra Training: Tips

You've found your race, so now its time to start training.  If you've been doing marathons, you already know there are a plethora of training plans out there.  Every marathon plan is slightly different, but almost all good plans are structured in a very similar manner.  You'll find more targeted speed work, higher/lower mileage, etc, but almost all of them will be 16-18 weeks and will top out at around 20-22 miles.  If you've done a google search looking for ultra training plans, you've probably realized by now that there aren't many out there.

Ask 5 ultra runners how to train for a race, and you'll likely get 5 different responses.  There doesn't seem to be a standard plan, as everyone's body tends to react differently to extending the distance beyond the marathon.  Add in the family time, jobs, personal life, etc and it results in people balancing the training load quite differently.  There are, however, some common denominators in ultra training.  I'll touch on some of those and talk about some of my preferences in ultra training.

The first thing to consider is mileage vs time on your feet (TOYF).  I tend to prefer the time on your feet method over running mileage.  Its completely a personal preference, but I find it easier to just zone out and run, not worrying about my route.  When I run a set mileage, I find myself poring over every mile, and the run seems to take forever.  Another positive I find in TOYF is that regardless of how I'm feeling, I'm out for the same amount of time.  If I'm feeling great and I have a 4 hour run,  I get in a few more miles.  However, if you feel bad and you have 30 miles scheduled, you might be out for a lot longer than you were expecting. Again, its all personal preference.  For some, seeing a 5 hour run on your schedule seem much more daunting to some that seeing 33 miles.  Try it both ways and see what works best for you.

I feel like one of the key contributors to my success in ultra training is the back-to-back long run, regardless of your choice in training method.  Doing a second long run in a weekend really helps to give practice running not only on tired legs, but in a fatigued state.  The first few times you try it, that second day is not easy. Eventually, you will notice your recovery time shorten and that second long run will come much easier.  I usually do my two long runs at different distances, and I usually prefer to do my longer of the two long runs on the first day.  The easiest way I've found to transition to this is to actually start with the short run on the first day and then slowly adjust.

Let's pretend you already have a pretty good mileage base and you can do a long run of three hours.  Start with doing an hour on Saturday and then doing your three hour long run on Sunday.  Then move to doing an hour and a half on Saturday and 2.5 hours on Sunday.  Then split the weekend with two, two hour runs.  Then move to a three hour on Saturday followed by a 1 hour on Sunday.  Once you can do that, you can start adding more mileage to the Sunday run and even bringing the first day mileage up, depending on what distance you are training for.

As with everything there are some drawbacks to the above approach, but I feel like its worth the effort.  The biggest complaint is that you kill a chunk of both of your weekend days with back-to-backs.  This is true, however, this approach also shortens the time commitment each day, while increasing the overall mileage/time on the weekend.  You don't have to do back-to-backs every weekend.  Try it once a month or every other week.

As you are building up your endurance, don't feel bad if you need to walk, especially if you are running hilly courses/trails.  Almost everyone walks at some point in the actual race.  Yes, even the people up front. If you need to walk during training, go for it.  Just keep moving forward.  You'll find that as you build your endurance, you'll walk less.  Maybe on race day you'll even be able to push through the entire race, although as your distance increases, the likelihood of walking increases.

So what should your week look like?  There are many factors that will dictate your training schedule, but here's what I like to do.  I go easy on Monday to recover from the weekend.  I'll usually do double, or a little more, of my Monday distance/time on Tuesday.  On Wednesday I'll typically do a longer run (roughly 1/2 the distance/time of the shorter of my two weekend runs), then Thursday I'll usually repeat my Tuesday run.  And lastly, I take Friday off.  I obviously tweak it depending on what I have going on in my work/personal life, but that's typically the structure I use.

In the end, the biggest thing to remember is that training for an ultra is as much training your mind as it is training your body.  If you don't train your mind, you'll fail when your body fatigues and says "no."  You can only train your body so much, after that its your mental toughness that allows you to persevere.

So You Want to Run an Ultra Marathon: how to choose a race

I've had a number of people ask me ultra-related questions recently, so I figured I'd put together a small series of blog posts addressing some of the questions.  I'm by no means the supreme authority on ultra running.  However, these are based on my experience.

Choosing which race to do for your first ultra can be an important step in your ultimate success on race day and having a positive experience.  There's no standard distance for ultras, so deciding a distance is the first step, as there are races of almost any distance you can possible imagine.  There are even ultras that are timed events where every participant will run a different distance.

DISTANCE. If its available to you, I'd suggest starting with a 50K or a 60K.  I'm assuming if you are eyeing an ultra, you've hopefully run several marathons, so these two distances (31 miles and 37.2 miles) aren't a crazy stretch from the marathon distance.  You can essentially take a marathon training program (drop the speed/tempo work if you want), substitute a 26ish mile training run for "race day," and then tack on a two week taper.  You've got a training program.  Its not quite that simple but almost.

FORMAT. Another thing to consider that might not be obvious is the course.  I'm not referring to terrain and elevation gain/loss, what I'm getting at here is how the course is structured.  Is it a one loop course? Seven loops? Out-and-back? Point-to-point?  Typically, I like single loops or point-to-points because the scenery is always new and it helps keep me distracted to see new things.  I also like out-and-backs because I can play the mind game that I just have to reach the turnaround and then just run back to where I started.  However, for a first ultra I really recommend finding a course that has a bunch of loops.  I know, I know, its mind-numbing.  I always hated running on a track too.  But bear with me here.

When I tackle a new distance, I like the multiple loop format for one main reason: it allows me to forget about mileage and break the race down in a more manageable way.  My first ultra was the Knickerbocker 60K in Central Park.  The course consisted of a short out-and-back, followed by nine 3.98 mile loops.  Instead of thinking about the 37.2 mile race mile-by-mile, I broke it down in loops.  In my mind, I threw out the short out-and-back.  After that, it was just nine loops.  Nine is easier to wrap my head around than 37.  After three loops I was already 1/3 of the way done.  If I thought about it in miles, after three loops I'd still be looking at 24 miles.  After 6 loops, I was already 2/3 of the way done.  I play mind games with myself when I run ultras, and so do most other ultra runners I know.

There are also a other positives to keep in mind when about multi-loop courses.  Almost all ultras are small enough that you can leave a drop bag (either officially or unofficially) at or near the start/finish.  Longer races will allow drop bags at different aid stations along the route.  But back to our multi-loop format.  The more loops, the more chances you have to hit your drop bag, which means the less you have to carry.  Race nutrition usually isn't all that heavy, but the longer you run, the more that little bit of weight is compounded.  Just a quick example:  I ran with an ipod on my arm in my first ultra and my shoulder was sore for days afterwards.  

Another great thing about having access to your drop bag is that you can keep a wider range of nutrition available.  During a marathon, you carry your 4-5 gels and maybe some endurolytes.  Being able to get to your drop bag that is tailored specifically to you every 4-5 miles is a huge plus.  you don't have to rely on the race to provide nutrition.  Don't worry, I'll cover drop bags in another post in the near future.

Hopefully you have friends and/or family coming out to support you.  More loops means more times you'll see each other, which can be a huge pick-me-up, especially in the latter miles of the race.  Even if you don't have anyone coming out, other runners do.  All those people at the start/finish and along the course will be cheering for you, despite not knowing you.  Embrace these people's encouragement.

LOCATION. Race location is another thing to consider.  If there's a race in your town or nearby, jump on it.  Familiarity with the course and the terrain will go a long way to ensuring your success on race day.  Even if you aren't able to run the exact course, you'll likely be able to find very similar terrain to run on if the race is in your area.  A local race also allows you to train in the same type of weather conditions you'll most likely encounter on race day.  Additionally, a local race will make it more likely that you can get your fan base to come out.

There are a lot of things to consider when choosing your first ultra.  The above points aren't comprehensive by any means, but should give you a good start for considerations.

Review: New Balance MT101

I had been waiting to do a long run in these before putting together a review, and after today's 4 hour and 15 minute jaunt through rocky trails, I've formed an opinion.  I've done several trail runs in these and taken them out for a spin on paved surfaces as well, and I have to say that they perform well on both accounts.  However, I'll concentrate on the trail end of thing because there are plenty of racing flats I'd rather be in on paved surfaces.

When I first slipped these on and hit the trails, I was immediately struck at how well they performed.  It felt like I was wearing a racing flat with all the benefits of a trail shoe.  I felt lighter on my feet and the RockStop shield in the forefoot did a great job of protecting my feet from rocks.  I could feel the trail under my feet much better, which makes me feel a little more sure-footed on the rocky trails of the Hill Country.

One of the things I always loved about the Cascadia was that it drained water really well.  Last night, I found a fairly deep puddle of water on my run (shocking, in this drought), so I stopped and submerged my feet up to my ankles and then finished my run.  Not surprising, the shoes drained water as well as the Cascadia.  However, after drying overnight, they felt like they had stretched out a bit.

Today, I went out for my first real long run in the shoes.  I'd previously gone 2+ hours in them, but I wanted to see how they'd feel after 3-4 hours.  Amazingly, they didn't feel any less comfortable than the Cascadias I've been running in over the years.  My only complaint is that due to the minimalistic nature of the shoe, the rear foot doesn't have much between your foot and the ground.  Adding to this problem is that some of the foam is exposed on the rear of the shoe, instead of having a layer of outsole over it.  On these really rocky trails around Austin, when you come down on your heel, it tends to feel not so nice.  I realize the goal of minimalist shoes is to put the runner on their forefoot.  I'm a midfoot striker, but on trails its fairly impossible to always come down on your midfoot/forefoot, especially when bombing down a hill with sharp rocks dominating the trail.  My left heel is a little sore after today's run.

Pros:

• Weight - This shoe is light.  Its 7.48 oz (men's size 9).  Its not as light as a racing flat, but it feels like one compared to the Cascadia (10 oz).
• Price - $75.
• Feel - the shoe allows you to feel the trail, but (for the most part) protects you from what's under your feet.
• Breathability - the shoe breathes well, which also translates in draining water as well.

Cons:

• Lack of rear foot protection - not a huge concern, but can definitely result in some soreness.
• No lateral protection - if your foot happens to come down next to something protruding horizontally, the shoe provides little protection again the object.  Again, not a huge concern because this doesn't happen often.
• No toe protection - if you stub your toe on the trail, there's no protection.  This doesn't happen often, but the Cascadia affords a little extra protection up front against this.

Overall, this shoe gets a solid A.  The negatives are there but are far exceeded by the positives.  I have to thank Brooks for changing the Cascadia just enough that I decided to try something new.  The MT101 is definitely my new trail shoe.  Its getting major updates in January, so I hope they don't screw it up.

Volente Loop

I finally went out and did the Volente Loop today.  Its a nice little ride, but there's a monster hill at about 15.5 miles.  Of course, doing it in 100+ degrees didn't make it any easier.  There's a little bit of a shoulder all the way in to Volente.  The traffic dies down after you get past Bullick Hollow Rd and really dies down past Volente.  There are some fun corners and I hit 40+ mph a couple times.  If you are in the area and looking for a 20ish mile ride with some nice climbs, give it a try.

My (running) Life in Medals - 2001 Austin Marathon

"I'll never do this again."

I lied.  After vowing to never run another marathon, on Feb 18, 2001 I lined up and ran the Austin Marathon. After the physical pain of my first marathon faded, I was left with a lingering feeling of the need to run a marathon.  I cheated myself by not training properly.  I cheated myself out of the experiencing the race.  Instead, I had experienced suffering.

In the fall of 2001, I was completing my final semester of undergrad at Texas A&M.  I had applied to grad school, but I was waiting to find out my fate.  The plan  was to stay in College Station for the spring and summer and start grad school in the fall of '01.  During the fall semester of '00 I heard of a marathon training group through the Rec Center, so I went to the informational.  The next thing I know, I was training for the Austin Marathon.*

I developed a knee issue only a few weeks before the race, but since I'm stubborn, I decided to run anyway.  My goal was to break 4 hours and one of the other guys I had been training with had the same goal.  We ran the first 18 miles together, but my knee got so bad that I told him to go on.  I was on pace for sub-4 hours through 18, but as my knee got worse, I was reduced to walking.  Over the next 8 miles, the pain got so bad that there were literally tears rolling down my face.  I ended up finishing in 4:19:xx, but I couldn't run more than a 1/4 mile for the next 2 months due to the pain.  I shouldn't have started, and I sure shouldn't have finished.  Did I mention I was stubborn?

I was happy I'd completed my second marathon and that I'd done a proper training program, but I still felt like I had unfinished business.  I carried that feeling for many years.

*Interesting sidenote: one of the coaches for that program was a Texas A&M Student named Justin.  He had done an Ironman, which intrigued me.  I talked to him about it and he said he didn't really train that much, but just went out to see if he could do it.  Years later, I found out that Justin was Justin Daerr, who is now a professional triathlete.  His "i didn't train much" time was 12:55:03.  He's come a long way.  Check out his website.

My (running) Life in Medals - 1999 Houston Marathon

The 1999 Houston Marathon, my first marathon and an example of everything you shouldn't do.  1999 was before the marathon boom, before the plenitude of marathon training groups, and before I had even an inkling of a clue of what to do.  I was a junior in college who ran a few times a week for 30 minutes or so and had always had "marathon" in the back of my mind but had no clue what that really meant.

My roommate's girlfriend and I entered a "I'll do it if you do it" pact, so I signed up.  I ran, but never exceeded 9 miles in training.  I didn't have a training plan or any concept of long runs or nutrition.  My roommate's girlfriend actually registered  for the race at the expo (further proof of the marathon boom, Houston is now a lottery to get in).  We lined up in our respective starting locations and then met up around mile 1.  We actually ran almost all of the first 13 miles, but the back half of the course was greeted with a lot of walking.  I took in no calories.  I ran in a cotton t-shirt.  I stopped sweating from dehydration.  I SUFFERED a lot.  I put myself in danger, but I was completely ignorant to it at the time.

Despite doing everything wrong, I persevered and crossed the finish line in 4:52:xx.  I told my sister after the race, "I'll never do this again."  I'm glad I was wrong and I'm actually happy that I did everything wrong (but only because no bad came of it), because it adds some validity to my advice when I talk to first-time marathoners.  I've done it the wrong way, and you DO NOT want to experience what I did.  The experience and suffering also serve as a reminder to train and train properly in order to avoid that anguish, not only during, but after the race.  I couldn't walk for over a week.

On January 15, 2012, I will return to Houston and once again run the course.  If things go well, I'll finish in almost 2 hours faster than my original time.

My (running) Life in Medals - 2009 Pocono Marathon

Both years I ran the Pocono Marathon were big years for me for different reasons.  In 2008, I had a breakthrough race that opened the door for everything I've been able to accomplish sense.  In 2009 I returned to the fast course on a mission to qualify for Boston.  I had failed at the 2008 Chicago Marathon at getting a BQ time when I blew up at mile 19.5.

I had nailed most of my long runs.  I had been crushing my track workouts.  And I'd received a plethora of great advice from Jonathan Cane.  The plan was to grab a BQ, which was 3:10:59.  JC wisely made me realize that a 3:05 and a 3:10 gave me the same end result, so I shouldn't risk blowing up by gunning for a 3:05.

The weather in 2009 at Pocono was almost as good as it was in 2008.  There was a slight headwind for the first few miles before the course did a 180 and we'd catch a tailwind for the remainder of the course.  My friend, and multiple world record holder, Chris Solarz was also running the race.  As the race begin, Chris, a veteran, of more marathons than all of us combined, pointed out a tall runner moving along at about my pace and told me to tuck in behind him and draft.  Solarz ran next to me for a while, but faded after a few miles.  Although a much faster runner than me, he was only running the race for fun.

After the 180 on the course, I set out on my own with the wind at my back.  The miles were easy.  I felt phenomenal.  I was way ahead of pace, but in the back of my head I still had memories of Chicago.  When I came through the halfway point, I had PR'ed the half marathon and felt like I could conquer the world, but I had to keep my emotions in check.  It wasn't until the 24 mile mark that I was sure I had the race in the bag.  I conquered the final hill of the course, which wasn't easy.  I just had to hold on for 2 miles and I had a lot of time in the bank.

I was hurting, but I dug deep.  The course was flat to the finish and I knew what I had to tackle since I'd run the race the year before.  Finally I entered the track.  I had .2 miles to go and I had 5 minutes to spare.  I looked across and saw the finish line and knew I was about to qualify for Boston...and I started to hyperventilate.  I imagined passing out and DNF-ing only meters from the finish line, but I was able to compose myself and came in for the finish.  I almost immediately called Coach Cane.  He was my first call.

In the end, I ended up running that 3:05, but had I gone out gunning for that, I likely would have gone out even faster and blown up.  When I crossed the finish line I had absolutely nothing left.  One second faster per mile and I don't know that I would have been able to hold on.  I know I did all the physical work, but I still credit JC for planting the seed for success.

Three hour run

I hit Bull Creek tonight for a three hour run and didn't see another soul for the duration of the run.  As much as I miss NYC sometimes, you just don't get that kind of solitude in the city.  It was 103 degrees when I started the run, which I'm sure is part of the reason for the absence of other runners, mountain bikers, and hikers.  The good part is that I found out that my hydration pack is good for 3 hours worth of running, even in extreme heat.  I'm finally learning the back trails out at Bull Creek and have a nice loop that takes about 45 minutes to complete.  I still need to explore more of the side trails because I have a feeling I can extend that loop to at least an hour.

I wonder where that goes...

It's a good thing that I look at side trails and think, "I wonder where that leads?"  It's also good that once I start on that path, I'm not scared to head up 60 degree inclines to find out.  If I'd stayed on the well-worn paths that provide about 5 miles of running at Bull Creek, I would have never discovered the miles and miles of trails that aren't found on maps.  It will take me a long time to learn where all the trails lead, but I estimate there's probably 10+ miles of trail out there to cover.  Add in the 5 I already knew about and the fact that I can access Forest Ridge after July 31st, and I can connect enough trail to probably run 25-30 miles, if not more.

The best part is that its only about a 20 minute easy run from home to the first trailhead.  From there, outside of a .3 mile section, all of the 30ish miles would be on trail.

I've yet to explore the 20+ miles of trail out at Walnut Creek, and there's still about 16 miles at Georgetown Lake I've not hit up yet.  Plus, I have the 8 miles in each direction at the Greenbelt.

My (running) Life in Medals - 2006 NYC Half Marathon

This shiny little guy, in many ways, represents the start of my running life in NYC.

Before, I get to the NYC Half...The Queens Half in the same year (2006) was probably the start of it all.  I had been in NYC for less than a year and I had been running casually in Jersey City during the time I had lived there.  My amazing friend Tessa knew I was a runner and that I had done a couple marathons, so she asked me if I would help her train and then run the Queens Half Marathon with her.  In about six weeks, she had quit smoking, trained, and knocked out the Queens Half in under 2 hours.  If they had given out medals for this race, this story would have received its own entry.

I think she help spark my motivation to move from jogger to runner.  I registered for the inaugural NYC Half without knowing a single other person that was doing it.  I'd never registered or run a race without doing it with a friend or friends.  I think I ran about a 1:45 and thought it was blazing fast.  Over the next 4+ years, I ran almost everywhere imaginable in Manhattan (and covered significant parts of other boroughs), but the one thing I'll always remember from the NYC Half is the amazing feeling of running through a closed-off Times Square.

Dreaded DNF

Did Not Finish

I always thought those words would be hard to swallow.

El Scorcho marked my first DNF of my running life, however, I'm not finding it hard to accept.  My DNF was due to a choice to drop after stopping to help someone else.  I physically could have continued, but decided to call it a night to make sure Katie was OK and to ensure she was going to be ok.  We'll come back to the decision.

Katie and I arrived at the race site and quickly ran into Ben, who guided us to an area near the start/finish they had carved out to set up camp.  Katie and I organized our things, used the restroom, and nervously awaited the start of the 50K.  There was an excitement in the air as midnight neared.  When the horn sounded, I took off a little quicker than I should have, but wasn't pushing too hard.  It was hot and the sweat instantly began running out of my pores.  Although dark, most of the course was visible without a headlamp due to street lamps and ambient light from the full moon.

On the second loop I started running/chatting with another runner who was from Ft. Worth.  As we talked, the miles clicked off easily and we continued speeding up until we were clocking 7:58s.  I wanted to slow down to 8:15-8:30 for the first half, but the miles kept coming at around 8 no matter how much we tried to slow down.  After the 4th lap, I made sure I slowed down to 8:20-8:30 for my next couple miles.  As I neared the end of my 5th lap, I started to feel my legs getting heavy.  In addition to that, my hip was hurting a decent amount and I was beginning to feel some GI issues coming on.

I started weighing my options.  I knew I was in the top 10, but I wasn't sure exactly where.  I could continue my pace and most likely blow up around mile 25 or so.  I could back off the pace a little, suffer a lot, and hopefully hold on to a top 10 finish.  I clocked about a 2:07 for the first half and knew that even a 4:30 would likely get me into the top 10.  Lastly, I could back way off my pace and just cruise through the finish with minimal discomfort.  Or I could take the third option, but wait on Katie.  That option would make the second half of the run more enjoyable and I'd make sure I could get Katie through the finish line for her first ultra.  As an added bonus, it would allow me some time to get fluids back in my system, as I could tell I was pretty low.

(We know a lot of the same people, so my apologies to Katie if she didn't want people to know the details of her night)

When I arrived at where we had our things stationed, I stopped and waited.  Time went by.  I waited longer.  And longer.  I started worrying that I somehow missed Katie go by already.  Finally a little over 20 minutes later, she came in.  I asked her how she was feeling and she said "not good."  I told her what my plan was and she seemed happy that we'd be running together.  She mentioned that her stomach was upset and then almost immediately started vomiting.  We talked through how she felt and agreed that we could walk and run until her stomach settled and she was able to get fluids in her system.  I was worried about the amount of calories and water she lost from vomiting, but figured that if we took it easy enough, she could catch up enough to get through the race.  We jogged  slowly with a couple walking breaks for the first mile as Katie took in fluids and some salt tablets.

Shortly after the first mile, she vomited again.  I was really starting to worry about dehydration.  At the next aid station, she tried to stomach a single bite of a banana and some NUUN.  I thought that maybe the NUUN would help since it didn't contain sugar, however, that came up fairly quickly.  Around the 2.5 mile mark Katie had already vomited about 6 times.  I looked at her and said, "you are done."  She said, "I know," but i could hear the reluctance and disappointment in her voice.  The last six tenths of a mile was really tough for her.  She couldn't walk more than about 30 yards without having to sit down.  She was dizzy and continued vomiting.

Katie told me repeatedly that I could go on running, but I'd already made the decision that in her condition, if she had to drop, I was dropping.  It really wasn't even a decision.  There was no way I was going to leave her on her own in the condition she was in.  Even if I left her with the medical staff, I wasn't going to make her wait another 2+ hours for me to finish the race.  And in addition to that, I was mentally already out of race mode and my muscles had cooled down.  We found one of the race directors and let him know we were dropping out.

Even after the race, Katie continued to vomit.  There was nothing we could find that she could keep down.  She was so dehydrated that I could tell by looking at her.  She had lost that much weight from fluid loss.

In the end, a DNF is a DNF regardless of circumstances.  I was physically able to finish had I made the decision to continue on, however, the most important thing that night was not finishing and getting a shiny medal.  I'm completely comfortable with my decision to take my first DNF, even in retrospect.  It was the right thing to do.

DNF...I have unfinished business to take care of at El Scorcho 2012.

My (running) Life in Medals - 2008 NYC Marathon

In 2008, I was lucky enough to have a friend who was able to get me guaranteed entry to the NYC Marathon.  I was doing the Chicago Marathon only two weeks before, but you don't turn down guaranteed entry if its offered.

At work, we had a long week of events, athlete appearances, and Run Club activities that kept me on my feet for long hours.  The marathon was going to be my time to relax and enjoy the city after a long week of little sleep.

After four years of watching the marathon, I was finally going to get a chance to see the race from the inside.  With only two weeks to recover, I decided I was going to enjoy the marathon and not worry about time.  As I ran through Brooklyn, I waved to the crowds and quickly chatted with other runners I knew as I passed.  The real fun started after I crossed the Queensboro Bridge.  I entered first avenue and quickly moved to the right-hand side.  The vast majority of runners clung to the left.  I handed out High-fives for 60 blocks on first avenue.  I stopped  to hug friends and stopped a few times to talk to people.  When I re-entered Manhattan, I re-started my mission of high-fives for everyone.  A quick chat with the City Coach cheering section and I was back on my way.  Being the manager of RUN NYC Run Club afforded me the luxury of knowing hundreds of people along the course, each greeting me with a smile or a yell.  In Central Park, I spotted more friends as I made my "victory lap."  When I finally crossed the finish line, I dropped and did a somersault across the finish line, which confused the volunteers who initially thought I had collapsed.

That night, I went to the Telephone Bar and celebrated the marathon with friends and fellow runners.  It was one of the first times I spent some quality time with many of the people who became training partners, and more importantly, good friends.

My (running) Life in Medals

I often see the debate online of what to do with the medals runners get at the end of marathons and other shorter races these days.  To some, they are prized possessions, proudly displayed on the wall of their home or apartment.  They'll gladly engage you in conversation of every detail of the race if they spot you glancing in the general direction of one of the shiny accolades.  To others, they are junk.  They'll give them to their kids, nieces, nephews, or even throw them away.  And if you make a comment on their apathy toward the medal, they will gladly engage you in conversation of every detail of the race.

Me?  I'm somewhere in between.  Mine hang on a doorknob in the closet.  I keep all the medals from races.  Even worse, I save all my bibs as well, but that's for another day.  Some of my medals have meaning to me and others don't hold a lot of significance.    What I've realized though is each of those races is a part of who I am, who my friends are, and what was going on in my life at the time.  So I figured I'd give each medal one more chance to shine, and reflect on the race and my life.

What better way to kick all this off than to go back to where it all started for me.  Yesterday, while digging through some boxes at my parents' house, I came across this medal:

This simple medal is from 1988-89, when I was in the 5th grade.  There was a presidential challenge/initiative to get kids more active, so we were required to complete a couple 1/4 mile laps around the playground at the beginning of each recess period.  After laps were run, kids were free to go play on the monkey bars or join a game of kickball.  We had just moved to Rockdale, Texas, and I didn't have many friends.  Instead of the normal recess activities, the 5th grade me continued to run long after everyone else went on to play tag.  I was the weird kid who ran, which I'm sure didn't help with the friend-making.  I'm really not sure what motivated me to keep running, but in retrospect, it doesn't seem odd at all.  At the end of the school year, I had amassed 61 1/4 miles, which resulted in being called up in front of the entire school and presented with this medal.  It was a rough year in school for me, but I did eventually make some friends...and found my way onto the cross country team a couple years later.

Contador

Contador is a good 4-ish minutes back of the yellow jersey as of the end of today's stage.  He got dropped today in the final section of the climb to the finish.  What does this mean?  Well, it could be that we're seeing the effects of him riding the Giro and blowing away everyone by 6 minutes.  He's still recovering and just doesn't have that extra gear again yet.  Or, maybe its b/c he's cleaner than he has been in a few years.  Maybe its a little harder for him to find that gear when he's not injecting it into his body.  I'm sure it doesn't help that he's crashed several times so far in the tour.  You tend to be a little stiff and a little less aggressive, at least temporarily, after crashing.

My guess, its a combination of all of the above.

I'll be the first to admit that I don't Contador and quite enjoy seeing him struggle.  I still won't be surprised to see him attack relentlessly in the coming days, but based on what I've seen thus far, he probably won't be too successful.

As a side note, I know there aren't a lot of black cyclists out there (relatively speaking) and even fewer in the pro ranks, but I was shocked to learn that 2011 marked the color barrier being broken at the Tour de France.  Yohann Gene is the first black cyclist to ever ride in the Tour.

Hoogerland!

You can order here...

Conundrum

Austin is an interesting place.  When I left here 5+ years ago, RunTex owned this town.  Now, there are running stores everywhere.  Countless runners are on the loop at Town Lake all day, every day.  There's a plethora of cyclists and triathletes.  There's a multitude of trails to run.  Yet, there doesn't appear to be much in the way of free group runs.  I've dug around and found a couple group rides, but runs are hard to come by.  I've been to one up north, which I mentioned in a previous post.  However, it wasn't much of a group.  There seem to be plenty of groups, but everything costs money here.  I was just searching around and one of the running stores even charges $5 for you to "drop in" and test out their runs.  Are you kidding me?

Maybe what I'm looking for is out there, but it's definitely going to take a while to find it.  The more I sit and think, the more I feel as though I'm going to have to start my own group.  Problem is, I don't have people to start it with.  Very few of my friends here are runners/cyclists, and those that are, are not serious enough about it to really approach about joining a team.  I need to meet people in the scene, but its difficult when the scene seems to be very fragmented and groups want money.

A week from El Scorcho

We're less than a week out from El Scorcho.  I feel pretty good about the race, but I have no idea how I'm going to do.  I've been training in much hotter temps than we'll be seeing in the middle of the night, and the terrain I've been running on is much more difficult.  I'm hoping that translates into a good race.  We'll find out next weekend.

In Other News

One good thing about being unemployed is that I've been able to watch the Tour every day.  It hasn't been overly exciting so far, but there have been a ridiculous amount of crashes.  And none more ridiculous than the media car taking out Johnny Hoogerland and Juan Antonio Flecha.  I'm sure most of you have seen it, but if not, here's the video:




And here's a photo of the aftermath:

And in the world of triathlon, Chrissie Wellington set yet another WR at the Ironman Distance, although not at an m-dot event.  It's almost a "ho hum" thing these days when she breaks her own record.  However, Andreas Raelert set the new men's record today too.  Both times us mere mortals (and even some pros) can only dream about: 8:18:13 and 7:41:33 respectively.  Read more here.

Is it a dead body?

Last night Katie and I went to hit a group run at Texas Running Company.  I don't really know what to say other than, I really miss my NYC training groups/friends.  There were probably 8-10 people there for the run and one store employee (I won't call her a pacer, as she was just kind of there to run).  I took the route for what it was, as I know there's no Central Park in north Austin.  I'm sure the downtown locations of running stores provide something more similar to Central Park running.  However, I was running pretty easy (I averaged 9 min miles for the first two miles) and I was still much faster than the closest person other than Katie.  I don't mind running easy just to meet new people, but if I'm running easy and still leaving the group behind, the run is pretty worthless.  I'll give the group another shot and see if anyone a little faster shows up, but if not, its not worth the time and gas to drive there.  There are better routes I can run from the house.

After the "group" run, Katie and I still had about 2 more hours to knock out, so we went over to the Upper Bull Creek trails.  While exploring one of the side trails, we came upon what in retrospect was  most likely a fort build by some kids.  However, when I stumbled upon it, I had a flashback to running up on a homeless encampment in Dallas.   So when I almost ran into it, my first instinct was to turn around immediately.  As we ran back down the trail Katie asked, "Was it a bum?  Was it a dead body?"