Lean Horse 50, lessons by the miles

The amazing part about doing something like attempting to run 50 miles as fast you can is that there are an infinite amount of lessons to be learned. I learned a lot on Saturday at the Lean Horse 50 Mile in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Some of the lessons being very specific to the actual art of successful running and some, simply just lessons on being a human in general.

 

I learned that it’s okay to take risks as long as you can let yourself off the hook when things don’t go according to the plan. I learned it’s easier to not come down on myself so hard when I can find the lessons in the failures. I learned that in training, I need to work harder on a more positive mindset to get myself through the inevitable broken moments. I feel too bad for myself when things start to go wrong.

 

David Roche once taught me that: “fuck results” … If you are fulfilled and happy, that is all that matters… Where running more consistent and seeing a more expected finishing time would have made me happier, I realized that running hard in the early miles (though potentially detrimental) was INCREDIBLY fulfilling. I don’t regret it, because everything about it in the moment felt exactly as it should have. I felt so alive. So happy.

 

I learned that as selfish as I am when it comes to running, I sure do think of everyone else in my life a whole hell of a lot when I am out there. Thoughts of my friends and family fuel me in my highest moments and also make me extremely emotional in my lowest.

 

Tom Delonge singing “here we go, life’s waiting to begin” in my ears while I’m in a mist-filled canyon that smells of fresh greenery and shows off its gorgeous, dark rocks through its glowing, live foliage while sharing the sounds of its lively nature makes me run way faster than I should be 😉 —

 

I learned that without a young lady like Lynette in my life, my journey wouldn’t feel nearly as complete as it does. She listens a lot more than I give her credit for. She knows what moves me and without her on that course on Saturday, I would have quit a lot earlier… In moments of doubt, I recited the words out loud, “get to Lynette” … Every time I saw her, I lit up. When she’d pop out on the path I suddenly had the energy to get to the aid and was just a little more lively heading out. She had every one of my best interests in mind — what more could I have asked for?

 

Obviously the lessons don’t end here, but below is a bullet point summary of the race by the miles. It gets very numbers and stat driven, but it’s how things went down and not only did I want to share, but it was good for me to get it all down in text to better understand and absorb what happened out there. Thanks for all your support and being part of this adventure that started a long time ago. The long winded story will find its way to the social media eventually. For now, there’s this.

-perfect weather, something like 50oF at the start

-small group of 44 to start the race

-felt amazing race morning

stomach was great

felt wide awake

body felt healthy and ready

positive mindset, ready and excited for 50 miles

-first 13 or so miles easy cruise gradual downhill

-was leading by mile 15

-was consuming lots of fluids and adequate calories

-pacing plan went out the window

-planned for 7:35/mi-7:45/mi for first 20mi

-ran under 7:30/mi avg for first 35mi

-continued averaging less than 7:30/mi for the mile 19-27 climb

-ran 3:13:42 marathon split, 3:50:49 50k split

-starting running hot on the first climb when the sun came out

-overcast and rain were forecast with a high of 75

-ended up getting clear skies with sun and temps topping in the mid 90’s

-quads started cramping by mile 30, hamstrings started tightening by mile 32-33

-heat started becoming a big issue by mile 35, couldn’t get control of my legs

-Lynette told me my dad was asking for me — there was IMMEDIATELY more on the line

-head started feeling light and spinning a little

-still taking in a minimum of 20oz water and at least one gel every 5 miles plus more at aid

-started running slow miles 36, 37 — started taking longer walk breaks

-confidence started fading real hard

-lost lead at mile 38

-found out Josh and Pat had dropped from their 30 and 20 mile races at mile 40 aid

-when they learned how beat up I was, they decided to power on with me regardless how they felt

-lost much control over legs by miles 41, 42 — severely cramped, hips locked

-was walking slowly and losing mental stamina even with my buddies at my side

-started getting really emotional by mile 44 realizing the day was over and I’d likely walk it in

-had been climbing since mile 36 — gradual to mile 40-41, steeper from there.

-climb ends at mile 45

-thought I would sit at mile 45.5 aid, but just drank 2 cups coke, 2 cups gatorade, filled water

-saw the downhill/shade on trail and got energized

-began walking with some purpose and felt my spirits lift

-thought I saw someone with a 50 mile bib on and adrenaline spiked

-decided it was time to run and not stop and get this day over with

-averaged 7:50/mi downhill for last 4 miles

-finished with a time of 7:30:22

-2nd place over all

-I am capable, can and will do better next time

-this is the trial of miles; miles of trials

 

“He runs because he has to. Because in being a runner, in moving through pain and fatigue and suffering, in imposing stress upon stress, in eliminating all but the necessities of life, he is fulfilling himself and becoming the person he is.” – Dr George Sheehan

Run for life

These are just a handful of the people that leading up to and well beyond, but at LEAST the four years I was in high school, meant the world to me. In the wake of these tragic current events on our news and in our headlines, I can’t help but reflect a bit. It makes me incredibly emotional, sick to my stomach and sort of just unable to comprehend what it may have been like to tragically lose any one of these gentlemen — or anyone I shared the halls of my high school with — in the way the kids in these schools affected by these catastrophic have to watch their classmates go.

The footage on the news today sent me back to the halls of my school in Spotswood, New Jersey. It made my brain, in the most twisted way, imagine being in a scenario like the ones brought to life on our TV screens… and I’m just kind of a mess…

I run for a lot of reasons I run to feel alive. I run because I AM alive. And this weekend when I land on the starting in Moab, I’ll run for those lives lost. This race, this weekend, all 33 miles of it, are no longer about having made it there healthy, or uninjured enough to feel confident about a finish. But the miles I’ll spend out in the desert, my safe space, will be for the families grieving this weekend because their teenager, perhaps just like one the kids in this very picture, didn’t make it home from school today.

#runforlife

Healthy, but injured?

Since I’ve started practicing a more “80/20” approach to training, potential of injury has sunk so far into the back of my head. Giving myself a 5 day running week with the who less stress results of not running hard all the time has really kept me feeling physically healthy, far from burn out and sort of running with the notion that even if a little niggle does pop up, always having Monday and Friday off always lets rest and recovery fall right at the appropriate time.

Over the past few months the main goal has been to stay consistent with running, but most importantly, remain healthy in the wake of this atrocious flu season. With results from this past summer and fall, I was convinced that if I kept myself running the way I was, I’d be getting faster and a PR at Red Hot 55k (one week out) would be a given.

Here I’ve arrived at my taper and (knock on wood) the flu still hasn’t caught up with me, but this damn pinched nerve sure caught me by surprise. Aside from fighting the typical struggle that IS my left quad and hamstring along with that pesky PF, I thought I was golden and in the clear. Not really sure, even how to treat, deal with or figure this one out. I can run on it. And more than that, I can run uphill on it even better. Running seems to flare it up a bit, but not leave me in any more pain, post run, that I was before. If it’s a pinched nerve, am I risking anything pushing on? Last time I was dealing with the pinched nerve as a result of my degenerative disc disease I learned I have back in 2015, I was told, “don’t be immobile, keep exercising, work on strength and flexibility…” — what about running 33 miles through the unforgiving slick rock and off camber desert?

Some may say it’s the taper anxiety getting the best of me. Other may say, don’t screw the rest of my year (which I happen to have big plans for) by being stupid and running harder through something that can be more easily fixed if cared for early. For now, or at least for the next couple days, I’ll just keep easy running and cross training and come mid this week have to make some big decisions on the type of running that will happen on Saturday. I’ve ever begun considering a drop to the 33k, just from the standpoint of if the pounding becomes simply too much, it is that much sooner I get off of it.

In the meantime, I will continue with extra foam rolling, stretching, stim treatment and cannabis for pain/inflammation relief. Staying positive, remembering the year is long and there is so much ahead. I will see a starting line one way or another on Saturday. It’s just a matter of what state I show up in and what lessons there will be to be learned.

100 miles; on roads

It’s wild, to me, that I would almost have refrained from registering for a race like this based on what others think. Since moving to Colorado, I have been living a double sided running life. Fighting the stigma within my own head that, out here, in these wildly grown trail towns, road running is inferior.

“Oh, it’s just a road race?” … “It’s only a road race, so it shouldn’t be THAT hard.” … I began to fall for it. Long hard days on the trail are surely like nothing else. But as I’m beginning to become okay with remembering, so are your hardest, toughest efforts on the roads. Over the last four years, I began feeling like the running I had done prior to my move to Colorado — years of thousands of miles of road efforts — was just primer. It was just preparation for the “more challenging and MUCH harder REAL running” that occurs in the ultra trail world. I think I was being completely unfair. Unfair, not just to myself by falling for that mumbo jumbo, but for potentially, inadvertently taking credit away from all those out there, every day, first timer to professional, who are putting miles and hours and gallons of sweat from efforts into their very own roads.

The stigma within me has been squashed.

I don’t care anymore. Not what the over opinionated trail shoe rep at the local run club has to say. Or what the articles about the ultra trail races are spewing about the thousands of feet of vertical climbing or extreme conditions found at the average altitude in these adventures will do to someone. Of course I respect them all for exactly what they are and will never give anyone who tackles one of these massive events (which I still aspire to complete, one day) any less credit than they deserve. But from now on, I am going back to approaching running of all types with a fair perspective:

If you chose to give every last ounce of all you have in you to the mountains, the altitude, the trails, the vertical, then COOL. If I decided the same amount of me, nothing short of all I have, is going into 100 miles — or even just 5 kilometers — of roads, then that should be treated and respected in the same way.

Steve Prefontaine said, “A race is a work of art that people can look at and be affected in as many ways as they’re capable of understanding.” And I think runners, both trail, road, short and long distance could all benefit from broadening their understanding. Understanding what running in all forms is capable of bringing out of an individual. When it all boils down to it, we’re all tackling that “trial of miles; miles of trials” John L Parker Jr. characterizes via the fictional Quinton Cassidy in the cult classic title Once A Runner. “You don’t become a runner by winning a morning workout. The only true way is to marshal the ferocity of your ambition over the course of many days, weeks, months, and (if you could finally come to accept it) years.” It doesn’t matter if it’s pavement that moves you, or dirt, or rocks. We’re all in it because regardless of our deeper, more personal motives, there is something about self propulsion, testing our limits, and pushing to see how far and/or how fast we can go that really intrigues us.

This time, I have decided, it is roads that will carry me to new milestones. Back to where it all started for me. By no means will I forget to give fair and adequate time and to my new muses on the trail, but for my first 100 mile challenge, I will be spending time with the type of running that had me believing from the beginning.

 

 

Remembering your team

Training for an ultra in the winter can be challenging. It doesn’t just make you question your motives, but at times, quite possibly why you even do it at all. Out the door and back before the sun is even up, icy roads and trails — warm summer mornings becoming a distant dream… and through it all, I know that beyond the lessons and character building trials we spend pushing ourselves to uncomfortable limits in the winters grasp, it is us that ultimately gets ourselves there. Anyone will tell you, we’re the ones who put in the work that ultimately ends up getting us from A to B… but really we’d be remiss not to mention, recognize and to an extent, praise and thank the ones that we’ve spent many steps of our way with that are owed the biggest gratitude. It’s them who know what we’ve put in. It’s them that may have helped us rise to the occasion, early on a Sunday morning, to hit a soggy trail for hours before the rest of the city is even awake. Or perhaps out to a trail we’ve never seen before reminding us how important a fresh perspective can be. It’s them that we bury our pride in and thank within ourselves for the miles shared. Without them, this little world we’ve made for ourselves struggled to spin. These dudes here have played an integral role in me getting to yet another starting line. And as they will have their own starting and finish lines this year, I can only hope to play even half as important a role for them as they have for me. Cheers fellas. Thanks for reminding me what it’s like to be doing this for more than just myself.

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A triathlete again.

I did it, friends! I drank a free beer today! Of course at the cost of finishing my first triathlon in Colorado and with that, my first in four years. I struggled through the swim, as always. That whole washing machine effect kills me. Gets the anxiety up and makes actual swimming a bit of a chore. I started at the very back of the pack, which helps with the anxious factor but not so much the catch up game. I got out of the water feeling strong and super excited to jump on my bike and give the wheels their first real good roll for their money.

Though I loved every second of today’s ride, getting off the bike and onto my feet is ALWAYS my favorite part of the tri, regardless of how great the ride was. I have a thing for running when I’m already beat up and man, I love running folks down who’d been kicking my tri shorts in all morning, otherwise…

Today was quite interesting on my feet, surely being my hardest effort since the calf injury, but man, reeling in whoever I could and cheering on the few who had it to sneak by… I was surely back in my glory.

Today’s finish line was SUCH a pleasure. I am looking SO extremely forward to building on this, re-learning some technique, training more and with that, harder… I have such a positive outlook after today’s go and am just so excited.

Boulder is a beautiful place to race, BBSC puts on a great event, Boulder Beer Co. is amazing for sharing their product and the only other thing that made today such a memorable valuable experience that it couldn’t have been without is, of course, the support of my wonderful girlfriend through this incredible journey and the presence of my new good friend and dare I say it, “training partner”, Luke…

Tri Boulder was a success. And gradual as this journey may be, I’m ecstatic to admit, I am a triathlete again. Here’s to another chapter in this ridiculous book I call, My Life.

 

Into the mountains

Finally got into the mountains last week. Managed some imagery here that I was excited to take home and share. I’ve never seen Columbines like we saw out there that day. It was a fantastic hike up to Herman Gulch to Herman Lake. The weather was just right. The trail wasn’t overly crowded. And the sights were beautifully plentiful. Link below to the All Trails tracks to scope the GPS data, route and reviews.

Herman Gulch to Herman Lake

Remembering the importance in risk

Today, I handed Lynette my camera and asked her to take a couple photos of me getting roudy on the adult playground at 12k feet.  I’m glad I did.

When I look at back at this photo I think about what today really was. There were moments I was sad, angry, anxious, scared, happy, elated, enlightened… So much thought – SO many feelings.

Lynette and I did a rock solid 10 mile hike with my brother, in which I got to run a whole bunch. Back to her to check up and make sure she was still great and enjoying herself. Back up to him, a couple hundred meters ahead huffing at his first trip into the high country this year.

It wasn’t until now, looking back at the photos from the day, that I’m beginning to make sense of what the mountains really are to me. They’re my new muse. The thing I know the least about but as of late have seemingly desired the most. They scare me and make me anxious, especially when I can’t control my own well being while in them, or simply just the elements around me.

I’m realizing now, how important these trips into the unknown are for me to stay motivated through a time where mostly everything else in life has left me feeling an unfortunate blunder of repetitiveness – redundant – burned out – like I have no options and nothing to to spark that imagination that once fueled my desire to being bigger and better every day I was awake.

The mountains, at least as of now, are doing that for me. Peeling me from a downward spiral and reminding me what it is to take risks and dive in, not preemptively knowing the outcome – serious as it may be – and being intrigued… moved… terrified of that.

The mountains called me and I came. However long this stay may be, this fuel may burn, so be what it is. But for now I’m enjoying and learning how to be that wild, risk-taking believer I use to be. With any luck at all, the time I spend puting myself through whatever it is I am out there, will reflect massively on the life I show up to partake in the other five days of the week. Maybe I’ll even surprise myself and start living THAT part of my life with a new light and passion. The same way I have on the trails.

Just a quick one

Got out on and around Green Mountain in Golden this morning. I laid in bed contemplating the run, like I do, usually to no avail, so often as of late since starting the CPAP. But then I read some inspirational words by a friend that got my ass in gear and out the door for a real nice jaunt on the hill. Lots of friendly folks out this morning. Beat the heat. Got back and had an ice pop. Pretty flawless, I’d say.

Just throwing it out there: I’ve started a new social media venture. It is called The Runner’s Closet and will host gear introductions, reviews, race rants, trail route offerings, so on and so on. Idea is, I WILL NOT be responsible for the bulk of it and though it may take some time to get rolling to become what I’d like for it to be, it will be a shared community effort. Reposts of what others feel others can’t be without. The things we all use and why. There is SO much capitalism and consumerism in the running industry and as much as I’ve always tried to steer clear from it and run away as affordably as possible… Until I realized. I’m addicted. I love it. I spend so much money on running every year, because it’s truly something I enjoy spending money ON. It’s a rad hobby and enjoyable to get into. AND it doesn’t have to be ALL that expensive either. So with that, I figured, why not make a forum where we can all get together and post and share what it is about the things we spend out money on and use doing the one thing we love most? Find it on Instagram at @therunnerscloset.

Just spent night 2 with the CPAP. I realize, I haven’t explained what’s lead to this unforutnate turn of sleeping events, however, what I will say at this point is that I’m so unhappy with sleep. Sleep and I are not on good terms right now. Got out on Green Mt this morning and man did I need that. I’m sore, tired and super fatigued. But some big long breaths on the summit this morning was just what the doctor ordered – actually, no. The doctor ordered artifical breathing through a rubber tube. I guess it was me that ordered the breaths on the mountain. Learning to deal with it.