Overall Summary of the Week:
On Monday, ran from the Auburn confluence to lower quarry, shot up ball bearing (she's nasty at first, but the climb mellows out toward the top), and ran the WS trail in reverse up to green gate. From green gate, explored mile markers 21-23.5 on the Wendell T. Robie trail, turned around and cruised down to Ruck-a-Chucky (far) and back up. I kept thinking to myself this climb isn't that bad, but immediately erased that thought and then proceeded to remind myself that after pushing hard for 80 miles, this climb, mixed with intense heat, probably feels more arduous than it looks (my WS virginity remains hopefully until next year, then I'll be able to judge fairly and not with naive ignorance). Came back pretty much the way I came in, but shot over to Dead Truck, went down and met up with the American Canyon Trail which then took me back down to lower quarry. Cruised back on lower quarry and my energy levels started yo-yoing (having not eaten a decent breakfast, I consumed all my gels (3) 2:30 into the run, but still had over 2:30 left). I just sucked it up and continued on. Bumped into my friend Aaron Dilts (who is a beastly fast road runner) and made it back to my truck in an overall running-time of 4:45. Thankfully, I had stashed some Nature's Path organic pastries in my glove box (I knew they would come in handy one day), scarfed them down and then debated whether to tack on K2 to finish it off. What tipped my mental scale toward "yes" was the thought well, do I want to suffer now or pay for it come TRT? With well-beaten up legs, I recorded my slowest summit ever on K2 (21 minutes, for a 1 mile climb), but couldn't be happier. I was just thrilled to have gotten out there and explored some new terrain while getting in 5:18 (~32-33 miles, with ~6k of vert).
On Saturday, was stoked to get up to Michigan Bluff and get in a quality day of climbing. Beginning at the 'Bluff, shot down to El Dorado Canyon rather quickly and carried that momentum up the other side to Deadwood Cemetery. I was feeling good today and even with quite a few fallen trees out there, hit a 39:30 split from the bridge to the cemetery (a tad over 1 minute off my pr). I was pretty happy with that effort, considering that the many fallen trees slowed my momentum at different intervals on the trail. Continued on over to Devil's Thumb and ran through only a handful of snow patches. It has cleared up quite a bit. Just a month ago, I was hip-deep in snow running up to Deadwood Cemetery and because of the heavy snowfall, didn't have a prayer in getting over to Devil's Thumb that day. As I was descending Devil's Thumb, I had to watch my footing very carefully as there were of course fallen trees, but fallen limbs/sticks which tripped me up at different points. I love Devil's Thumb because I usually feel the best on this climb. There's something about the gradient and switchbacks which cater to my strengths. Seems like the steeper the incline, the better I do. Thankfully, I did feel good coming up the Thumb. Took it pretty easy and hit a respectable clip of 28:30 (my pr is 24:36). The 5.5 mile descent back down into El Dorado Canyon was pretty smooth, but I had run out of water just after Devil's Thumb and idiotically ignored the "oasis in the desert". Those who are familiar with the "green pump" know how it can be a life saver in moments of deep thirst. Nevertheless, the climb up Michigan Bluff was super chill and slow. All I could think about was how thirsty I was and how good downing a bottle of water was going to be once I returned to my truck. Climbed up Michigan Bluff in 40:30 (which is a bit on the slower side as my pr up this climb is 30:44. All in all, felt really fortunate to get in 20 miles with ~6500' of climbing. Very quality run today, continuing to galvanize the quads.
I wasn't really trying to, but I hit my first 20,000' vertical week. It has been so nice getting back to this and I'm not even thinking about the Mt. Diablo 60k as a race, but rather as a sweet training run in which I get to scout some new terrain and rack up 11k of vert in a single-day. Diablo is next Sunday and should further help chisel my rail-like legs into agents of endurance and resilience come TRT in July.
Weekly Blessings to be Thankful for:
-God loves me in spite of who I am and what I do.
-My wife loves me for the same reasons mentioned above.
-I'm healthy and able to be active.
-I have a job which can help provide for my wife and I.
-I continue to love running more and more simply for what it is.
-I'm able to get up into the mountains (and have transportation to do so!)
-I have a community of friends and family which help in shaping me into the man I want to be.
With it being Easter Sunday, I am reminded of many things. One of which being Jesus revolutionary love he displayed on the cross. Such love baffles me and is completely counter-cultural. As he was hanging on the cross, sin was being ruthlessly hurled at him, but sin didn't bounce back, sin stopped. In a world where "you hit me, so I hit you" Jesus showed another way of life. He showed what sacrificial love is really like, love that costs you something -- forgiving his enemies, making sure his family was taken care of, and refusing to retaliate -- which to me, shows incredible strength as it is so easy to fight back and requires almost no will power to do so because it is almost second nature to us, but it is supernatural to refrain from fighting back out of a heart of love for your foe, it is unheard of to love your enemies, and to someone like me, on the surface, completely foolish to think of others as you yourself are being crucified. I think it was the Apostle Paul who said, "The cross is foolishness......." What a true statement if you dig deep into what that means. Laying down your life for others who don't deserve it is foolish, forgiving an enemy who has hurt you is foolish, and putting your faith in a poor, homeless rabbi from the town of Nazareth in which nothing good came is foolish. The "foolishness" of Jesus' love challenges me deeply as throughout my life I have seen how foolish it is to try and muster up such merit on my own. Which is why I would always lower the bar and then pat myself on the back for being a "good person" (whatever that means). The cross is offensive and offends me because I know myself and how wicked my heart is. Which is why I am so thankful for Jesus taking upon himself my wicked heart in the form of sin and putting it to death and resurrecting a new heart in me. Galatians 2:20 "I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me and this life I live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me." If you would've known me pre-Jesus you would've known a completely different person which is why -- as my transformed heart continues to be molded to be more like Jesus' heart -- I believe in resurrection power. It doesn't make sense as it shouldn't, but neither does running 100 miles. It seems foolish on the outside, but as I will hopefully embark and taste for myself, it begins to make much more sense as you take part in the journey by faith, and begin to see what it is really all about.
If you've been around me for some time, you'll know that I'm not a "churchy" dude who spouts "christianese" but I felt that on my heart to share and whenever I feel something strongly on my heart and it makes sense to my mind, I go with it.
Happy Easter everyone, hope you got to eat a lot of food, get in a run or two, and spend time with loved ones.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Back to What I Love
This week has been very refreshing for me so far. I've reacquainted myself with K2 (after a bonehead month break from one of my favorite climbs in the Auburn canyons) and was able to get out on the bike for a 2hr ride today, getting in 3k of vertical in the process (pushin' big gear, workin' on those quads! ha ha). Leading up to both Way Too Cool and AR, I mostly shied away from the things that really give me a lot of pleasure (i.e.: K2, getting up into the mountains more frequently, and amassing 10k+ vertical days and near 20k vertical weeks) in favor of flatter and faster efforts. These efforts certainly helped and above all, running is running, but for me, given the choice, I would rather do 4xDevil's Thumb and/or Michigan Bluff or something to that degree. In other words, I wish to plant myself in an environment in which the running I do allows the roots of my joy to sink a little deeper, thus, bringing forth a beautiful bloom of worship and praise to my creator for such a privilege. Running up and down mountains does this for me and I'm thrilled to get back to that.
Furthermore, when I was trying to figure out how to come up with and justify dropping $110 for the Mt. Diablo 60k, I realized that I still had some unused REI and Bass Pro Shop gift cards. Therefore, I traded in these gift cards with my father-in-law and signed up for Diablo which takes place May 1st. 11k of vertical in 37.2 miles has got me pretty excited and I'm hoping its a super hot day just to add a little more spice. Also, Connor will be running Diablo too so it should make for a fun little road trip and sweet experience scouting the mountain with him. This training race followed by (hopefully) the Bishop 100k (10k+ of vert at high altitude) will help me further prepare for the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 approaching in just over 3 months.
Aside from (training-) races, I'm also looking forward to getting back up to Half Dome (with Austin and hopefully Connor and Tyler) and taking another crack at Rickey Gates speed record. Being hands down more fit and stronger than in my first attempt, and figuring out where I lost a ton of time, I wager that if everything goes right, I hope to come a bit closer to his 2:28 record and possibly under. The Mountain Tigers of Auburn are also trying to formulate a suitable "fat ass" course in early June which will really tie together a lot of the climbs and terrain up and around Auburn and Cool (you have WTC and Robert Mathis' events, but nothing that really ties all of these events together into one 50k+ course). So if you're around the Auburn area in early June, putting in some time out on the WS course, come join us (more details to come).
Finally, Chris Ross took some terrific shots out on the course last Saturday:
Furthermore, when I was trying to figure out how to come up with and justify dropping $110 for the Mt. Diablo 60k, I realized that I still had some unused REI and Bass Pro Shop gift cards. Therefore, I traded in these gift cards with my father-in-law and signed up for Diablo which takes place May 1st. 11k of vertical in 37.2 miles has got me pretty excited and I'm hoping its a super hot day just to add a little more spice. Also, Connor will be running Diablo too so it should make for a fun little road trip and sweet experience scouting the mountain with him. This training race followed by (hopefully) the Bishop 100k (10k+ of vert at high altitude) will help me further prepare for the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 approaching in just over 3 months.
Aside from (training-) races, I'm also looking forward to getting back up to Half Dome (with Austin and hopefully Connor and Tyler) and taking another crack at Rickey Gates speed record. Being hands down more fit and stronger than in my first attempt, and figuring out where I lost a ton of time, I wager that if everything goes right, I hope to come a bit closer to his 2:28 record and possibly under. The Mountain Tigers of Auburn are also trying to formulate a suitable "fat ass" course in early June which will really tie together a lot of the climbs and terrain up and around Auburn and Cool (you have WTC and Robert Mathis' events, but nothing that really ties all of these events together into one 50k+ course). So if you're around the Auburn area in early June, putting in some time out on the WS course, come join us (more details to come).
Finally, Chris Ross took some terrific shots out on the course last Saturday:
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| Feelin' fresh, somewhere between Sunrise and Nimbus I assume. |
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| This may have been where I saw Joe Uhan come out of the bathroom. |
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| Mile 32 at Twin Rocks. Sara (left) and my friends/crew are concerned for me. I'm rubbing my quads in hope of stirring some life back into them. Facing reality here, though, that my day of running/racing was over. |
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
2011 American River 50 - Humbled and Hopeful
DNF. Just thinking about what that entails makes me cringe. I got my first taste of this ugly and overly offensive three-letter acronym at the American River 50 this past Saturday. But before I dive into what happened to me out there, I first have to give honor to my support crew: Sara Rydman (my wife), Chris Ross (store manager at New Balance Roseville - my sponsor), Bentley Nunes (William Jessup University runner), Spencer Jackson (WJU), Corissa Jacomini (WJU), Coach Parker Daniells (WJU), Dave Ruhkala (family friend), my mom, grandparents, and Mike Kelly (father-in-law). My crew was absolutely stellar. Up until I dropped at mile 32, I never once had to give up any precious seconds at any of the aid-stations from Watt Ave. to Granite Bay. Thank you guys for sacrificed time and unconditional love you showed me out there, I am extremely grateful.
I really only had one main goal heading into AR: To test myself in order to see if I could race 50 miles on a fast and flat course. I knew the possibility of blow-up was there, but to learn more about myself and my limits by pushing myself sounded more appealing than the risk involved. I suppose in your rookie year of ultra-running is when you should make the bulk of your mistakes, but what made AR so interesting is I honestly feel like I did everything right during the course of the race (pacing, tactics, nutrition, hydration, etc..).
After the countdown ensued, I settled in with a small tandem of Stephen Wassather, Ryan Burch, and Michael Buchanan; with Scott Jaime and Dave Mackey just in front of us. The early miles felt so good as Stephen and I were cruising at just over 6:30 pace. As we came back around to the start, Rich Hanna (#2 all-time at AR and a legend in the greater Sacramento region) yelled to our peloton, "The winner's coming from this group!" I'm fairly certain Dave was still just in front of us at this point, because if he was, Rich called it.
After feeling as though the body was finally warming up, we came through the Watt Ave. aid-station (~32:30) in a small chase-pack of Stephen, Burch, Buchanan, and myself, with Scott Jaime and I believe Mackey just 15-20 seconds ahead. After Watt Ave, Scott and Mackey opened up their lead more so, while our group continued to move along together, almost single-file with Burch out front, me tucked in behind him, Stephen off my shoulder, and Buchanan hanging in the back.
Things continued to stay the same until we came through William Pond Aid (mile 8+). It was here that our group reeled in Jady Palko. Jady was great to run with, but it was an interesting stretch running with Jady because he kept trying to play tactics with me. For instance, I would pass him up, just running my own pace, but then he would surge to get right back in front of me. It was funny to watch and Jady was hilarious in some of the things he would say as we were running together. Like, "You skinny f---er's make it look too easy," or "slow down dude, your making me look bad." Jady mentioned that he was only "marathoning" it to Beale's and then just hanging on for the ride to the finish. I have to hand it to him though, he's the one who finished and in a pretty respectable time at that for running the first half so hard.
At about mile 12 (just before Sunrise Aid at mile 14+), things were feeling so comfortable for me and if I were to guess, I would say my heart-rate stayed in the 140 range based on my lack of labored breathing and intuition. I then thought maybe I could make up some ground on Scott and the boys, but let the pace flow naturally, without any forced effort on my part. It was just after mile 12 that I left our group, with Jady wishing me good luck, and probably kicked it down to the mid-6:20 range. After about a mile or so, I saw someone fly out of the bathroom and back on course (I later found out it was Joe Uhan). Joe was a good guy to focus on for about a mile as I slowly closed the gap on him. I finally passed Joe, encouraging him as he did look pretty strong, and came into the Nimbus aid-station with a smile on my face. I heard one of the aid-station workers bellow, "Did you see that, he had a smile on his face!" I couldn't help it, I was feeling good, and just soaking up God's creation and the gift he was allowing me to enjoy on this day.
After Nimbus, I crossed under the bridge and it was here that I saw Nick Clark, Scott Jaime, and Mackey just above me. They gave me a wave and I shouted to them to keep it up. Finally seeing another group of guys - maybe just under 2 minutes ahead of me - gave me great motivation to continue moving at the pace I was. I was comfortably settled into 6th place and thought man, if I finish 6th at AR in only my third ultra and second 50-miler, that would be a tremendous accomplishment. Ascending up to the bluffs felt effortless as I was finally thrilled to experience something of a vertical nature.
After descending off this little hill, I jumped back out onto a wide gravel path and asked a cyclist how far up the guys ahead of me were. He replied, "They are just right up ahead, not by much." I took this with a grain of salt as I've come to realize how open-ended time estimations can be from onlookers. Nevertheless, I kept moving at a comfortable pace and enjoyed the brief distraction on the single-track section leading up to Negro Bar. As I approached Negro, I heard hoots and hollers up ahead and thought well, at least I haven't given up much time, if any; still sounds like they are about 2 minutes ahead. As I came through Negro (mile 22), my incredible crew welcomed me and encouraged me to catch those guys. With a fresh ingestion of motivation, I kept plugging away.
It was just after Negro however, that I started noticing some fatigue beginning to settle, specifically, in my quads. If you've read my account from the Way Too Cool 50k, you'll remember how my quad muscles were the sticks jammed into my spokes which slowed down my momentum. Even with the onset of sudden fatigue, I was still able to move at around 6:40-6:45 pace. As I approached the marathon mark I started to chuckle to myself. Why? Coming through in 2:52 I had just pr'd in my marathon by 5 minutes. ha ha Feel free to read that account back in 2009, it was a suffer-fest in my first and only attempt at a road marathon. It's interesting to see how far I've come in two years and how things have changed, but continue to progress. By far, that was a fairly simple marathon I had just run, but the race really hadn't gotten started yet.
I came through Beale's in 2:56 with my crew there to throw me a fresh bottle and some gels so that I didn't have to stop. My wife yelled, "5th place is right up there!" As I circled around Beale's, I saw Scott Jaime just up ahead and wondered if I was going to make up any ground in the remaining 23+ miles. I think we all know the answer to that because just after Beale's my quads took a turn for the worst.
As the course finally got off the pavement and onto some single-track of sorts, it was almost as if my quad muscles said, "Dude, we're done, have fun without us." What was about 7 minute pace at this point quickly turned into 11-12 minute pace. As much as I tried to fight the deep, muscular damage; sadly, the damage had already been done. I literally tried everything to try to turn it around. S Caps, gels, stretching, walking, fluids, but nothing could seem to get my legs to move any quicker than 11 minute pace. Shortly after the trail wound around and began to head toward Auburn, I saw Ryan Burch moving pretty quickly from behind. Burch asked if I was ok as he passed, to which I replied, "Can't move, quads are done; good luck man." I have to hand it to Burch, he ran a fantastic race and looked so strong and smooth as he passed me, which is why I was not at all shocked when I saw he finished 5th.
After episodes of walking and hobbling, I began to get passed by more and more folks. Stephen Wassather went by asking if I was ok, Skaden seemed concerned about me as he went by, even Joe Uhan stopped to check on me and give me some water. Honestly, this is what I love about our sport, the fellowship and care for one another. I felt really loved in my moment of weakness. Finally admitting to myself that my day of racing was over, I then had to make a tough decision. A mile and a half out from the Granite Bay aid-station (mile 31+), I went back and forth in my mind if I was going to drop. Maybe this is just a bad rough patch and the legs will come around? Maybe I need more S Caps? Maybe, maybe, maybe. After I tried a few more things, I had to face reality that I was about to experience my first DNF, something I thought would never happen. One glimmer of hope remained that I figured may be worth a shot.
I limped through the GB aid-station because my crew was going to be meeting me just a half-mile further up by the Twin Rocks parking lot. I figured maybe my wife could say something to spark some fire, after all, she was a vessel in imparting much-needed faith when I sat down by the edge of the trail at mile 47 of the Sierra Nevada Double-Marathon, dehydrated and lacking electrolytes, wondering if I could make it another 5 miles. This was different though, even much worse than at WTC. 20+ miles of bike path ripped me a new one (and I thought I was pavement primed?) and after all of us agreeing it probably would be for the best, I decided to call it a day. Sara ran back to GB and told the volunteers I was dropping out.
Talk about a moment of complete humility; I immediately felt as though I was not only letting myself down, but my crew, family, and friends. I've been really fortunate my whole life to be someone who has really excelled in the realm of athletics. From football, to wrestling, to basketball, to cross-country, and track; or anything athletic I put my mind to, I usually did well; not because I was some uber-talented jock, but because I worked my tail off to be the best I could be. Which is why a DNF was such a huge blow to my ego and pride. Even this incredible experience in the ultra-world has been one of high achievement so far, at least to me. CR and overall win in my first ultra, top ten at Way Too Cool in my second ultra last month, and now a DNF to add to my resume at the AR 50. So, in essence, I've gone from one end of the spectrum to the other, both evoking deep feelings; one of elation and the other of sorrow.
I've never seen a more clear parallel to life than I have running ultra's. Just like in life, an ultra takes you from the highs, to the lows and back in a cyclical fashion. One moment you are on top of the world, the next you are wondering how you are going to make it to the finish (and I haven't even run a 100-miler yet!). But I think a key factor I've learned through all this is that life goes on, you keep moving. You aren't stuck in a rough patch forever, and you don't have those giddy "everything is roses" feelings forever. You just keep moving and take whatever comes and I believe a critical driving force in all this for me is joy. Joy isn't happiness, because happiness is largely based on circumstances. Joy is an inner peace, an attitude choice that no matter how brutal the storm is raging, you know eventually everything is going to be ok and that gives you a great sense of peace in spite of unforeseen or unfortunate circumstances. Thankfully, I won't live in this DNF, I'll keep moving forward, hopefully more wise and more prepared when the next trial comes. Which brings up another key lesson learned: It's ok to fail. I felt like I gave it my best shot out there, what more could I have done? And it's ok I dropped out because as I've seen and heard from others in the sport, it happens to almost everyone at one point or another. Yes, I chose to stop moving by dropping out of the AR 50. Yes, I got k.o.'d by a haymaker, hurling me to the canvas. But, there is something that not even the most sly of thieves or fiercest trial can steal from me: Hope. Hope that no matter what life throws at me, God has a plan greater than my circumstances and is even using my circumstances for a greater good. "Good" maybe not as the rest of the world would judge as good, but "good" as only God can see and judge, whatever that looks like in reality by faith. I believe God cares more about my character than my comfort, or even how I perform at a particular race. He knows I'm going to fail at times, but I believe he's more interested in how I react to a perceived failure and the decisions I make that follow. We're all human, prone to temptations, failures, and vulnerabilities. But, again, I think the key is how someone reacts in spite of setbacks which determines their true heart and character. We remember the Michael Jordans', Lance Armstrongs', and Geoff Roes', not because they were always at the top of their game, but because when faced with adversity, they found a way to bounce back and persevere, whether that was in the event itself or the next event. All in all, in the grand scheme of things, this DNF is a small piece to a gigantic puzzle which makes up my life. I'm still running this ultra we call life, dealing with things that come up, making it through rough patches, enjoying the mountaintop experiences, and still climbing mountains that come. Although, I don't want to look back at the end of my life and see that ill-begotten DNF. I want to look back and see that I was the best husband I could be, father (whenever that day comes), friend, and lover of God and people.
So, as I continue to process what happened out there, I hope to learn as much as I can, take the good from it, and apply it immediately and also down the road. Looking ahead, I am super stoked to be able to solely focus on the Tahoe Rim 100 coming up this July. In the meantime, getting back to the mountains and amassing heaps of vertical have got me pretty excited too. As part of my preparation for TRT, I'm itching to get in a quality training run at the Mt. Diablo 60k coming up May 1st. An elevation profile such as this is mouth-watering:
Pretty much 11,000' of vert in 37 miles. However, justifying dishing out 110 bucks I don't have is pretty tough right now, so we'll see. I might have to make the trade-off of biking to and from work in order to save gas/money to compensate. There's always the Silver State 50 later in May (only 65 bucks!). In addition, fellow New Balance Roseville teammate Chris Waters suggested the Bishop 100k as a quality training run pre-TRT, so that's an option. I just continue to pray that my body holds up, I remain healthy, and am able to continue to enjoy the sport of running, competing or not. I think spending hours in the wilderness each week will be very refreshing to my soul, as I bask in God's grace and the alpine summits surrounding Lake Tahoe which have been beckoning me for quite some time now.
I really only had one main goal heading into AR: To test myself in order to see if I could race 50 miles on a fast and flat course. I knew the possibility of blow-up was there, but to learn more about myself and my limits by pushing myself sounded more appealing than the risk involved. I suppose in your rookie year of ultra-running is when you should make the bulk of your mistakes, but what made AR so interesting is I honestly feel like I did everything right during the course of the race (pacing, tactics, nutrition, hydration, etc..).
After the countdown ensued, I settled in with a small tandem of Stephen Wassather, Ryan Burch, and Michael Buchanan; with Scott Jaime and Dave Mackey just in front of us. The early miles felt so good as Stephen and I were cruising at just over 6:30 pace. As we came back around to the start, Rich Hanna (#2 all-time at AR and a legend in the greater Sacramento region) yelled to our peloton, "The winner's coming from this group!" I'm fairly certain Dave was still just in front of us at this point, because if he was, Rich called it.
After feeling as though the body was finally warming up, we came through the Watt Ave. aid-station (~32:30) in a small chase-pack of Stephen, Burch, Buchanan, and myself, with Scott Jaime and I believe Mackey just 15-20 seconds ahead. After Watt Ave, Scott and Mackey opened up their lead more so, while our group continued to move along together, almost single-file with Burch out front, me tucked in behind him, Stephen off my shoulder, and Buchanan hanging in the back.
Things continued to stay the same until we came through William Pond Aid (mile 8+). It was here that our group reeled in Jady Palko. Jady was great to run with, but it was an interesting stretch running with Jady because he kept trying to play tactics with me. For instance, I would pass him up, just running my own pace, but then he would surge to get right back in front of me. It was funny to watch and Jady was hilarious in some of the things he would say as we were running together. Like, "You skinny f---er's make it look too easy," or "slow down dude, your making me look bad." Jady mentioned that he was only "marathoning" it to Beale's and then just hanging on for the ride to the finish. I have to hand it to him though, he's the one who finished and in a pretty respectable time at that for running the first half so hard.
At about mile 12 (just before Sunrise Aid at mile 14+), things were feeling so comfortable for me and if I were to guess, I would say my heart-rate stayed in the 140 range based on my lack of labored breathing and intuition. I then thought maybe I could make up some ground on Scott and the boys, but let the pace flow naturally, without any forced effort on my part. It was just after mile 12 that I left our group, with Jady wishing me good luck, and probably kicked it down to the mid-6:20 range. After about a mile or so, I saw someone fly out of the bathroom and back on course (I later found out it was Joe Uhan). Joe was a good guy to focus on for about a mile as I slowly closed the gap on him. I finally passed Joe, encouraging him as he did look pretty strong, and came into the Nimbus aid-station with a smile on my face. I heard one of the aid-station workers bellow, "Did you see that, he had a smile on his face!" I couldn't help it, I was feeling good, and just soaking up God's creation and the gift he was allowing me to enjoy on this day.
After Nimbus, I crossed under the bridge and it was here that I saw Nick Clark, Scott Jaime, and Mackey just above me. They gave me a wave and I shouted to them to keep it up. Finally seeing another group of guys - maybe just under 2 minutes ahead of me - gave me great motivation to continue moving at the pace I was. I was comfortably settled into 6th place and thought man, if I finish 6th at AR in only my third ultra and second 50-miler, that would be a tremendous accomplishment. Ascending up to the bluffs felt effortless as I was finally thrilled to experience something of a vertical nature.
After descending off this little hill, I jumped back out onto a wide gravel path and asked a cyclist how far up the guys ahead of me were. He replied, "They are just right up ahead, not by much." I took this with a grain of salt as I've come to realize how open-ended time estimations can be from onlookers. Nevertheless, I kept moving at a comfortable pace and enjoyed the brief distraction on the single-track section leading up to Negro Bar. As I approached Negro, I heard hoots and hollers up ahead and thought well, at least I haven't given up much time, if any; still sounds like they are about 2 minutes ahead. As I came through Negro (mile 22), my incredible crew welcomed me and encouraged me to catch those guys. With a fresh ingestion of motivation, I kept plugging away.
It was just after Negro however, that I started noticing some fatigue beginning to settle, specifically, in my quads. If you've read my account from the Way Too Cool 50k, you'll remember how my quad muscles were the sticks jammed into my spokes which slowed down my momentum. Even with the onset of sudden fatigue, I was still able to move at around 6:40-6:45 pace. As I approached the marathon mark I started to chuckle to myself. Why? Coming through in 2:52 I had just pr'd in my marathon by 5 minutes. ha ha Feel free to read that account back in 2009, it was a suffer-fest in my first and only attempt at a road marathon. It's interesting to see how far I've come in two years and how things have changed, but continue to progress. By far, that was a fairly simple marathon I had just run, but the race really hadn't gotten started yet.
I came through Beale's in 2:56 with my crew there to throw me a fresh bottle and some gels so that I didn't have to stop. My wife yelled, "5th place is right up there!" As I circled around Beale's, I saw Scott Jaime just up ahead and wondered if I was going to make up any ground in the remaining 23+ miles. I think we all know the answer to that because just after Beale's my quads took a turn for the worst.
As the course finally got off the pavement and onto some single-track of sorts, it was almost as if my quad muscles said, "Dude, we're done, have fun without us." What was about 7 minute pace at this point quickly turned into 11-12 minute pace. As much as I tried to fight the deep, muscular damage; sadly, the damage had already been done. I literally tried everything to try to turn it around. S Caps, gels, stretching, walking, fluids, but nothing could seem to get my legs to move any quicker than 11 minute pace. Shortly after the trail wound around and began to head toward Auburn, I saw Ryan Burch moving pretty quickly from behind. Burch asked if I was ok as he passed, to which I replied, "Can't move, quads are done; good luck man." I have to hand it to Burch, he ran a fantastic race and looked so strong and smooth as he passed me, which is why I was not at all shocked when I saw he finished 5th.
After episodes of walking and hobbling, I began to get passed by more and more folks. Stephen Wassather went by asking if I was ok, Skaden seemed concerned about me as he went by, even Joe Uhan stopped to check on me and give me some water. Honestly, this is what I love about our sport, the fellowship and care for one another. I felt really loved in my moment of weakness. Finally admitting to myself that my day of racing was over, I then had to make a tough decision. A mile and a half out from the Granite Bay aid-station (mile 31+), I went back and forth in my mind if I was going to drop. Maybe this is just a bad rough patch and the legs will come around? Maybe I need more S Caps? Maybe, maybe, maybe. After I tried a few more things, I had to face reality that I was about to experience my first DNF, something I thought would never happen. One glimmer of hope remained that I figured may be worth a shot.
I limped through the GB aid-station because my crew was going to be meeting me just a half-mile further up by the Twin Rocks parking lot. I figured maybe my wife could say something to spark some fire, after all, she was a vessel in imparting much-needed faith when I sat down by the edge of the trail at mile 47 of the Sierra Nevada Double-Marathon, dehydrated and lacking electrolytes, wondering if I could make it another 5 miles. This was different though, even much worse than at WTC. 20+ miles of bike path ripped me a new one (and I thought I was pavement primed?) and after all of us agreeing it probably would be for the best, I decided to call it a day. Sara ran back to GB and told the volunteers I was dropping out.
Talk about a moment of complete humility; I immediately felt as though I was not only letting myself down, but my crew, family, and friends. I've been really fortunate my whole life to be someone who has really excelled in the realm of athletics. From football, to wrestling, to basketball, to cross-country, and track; or anything athletic I put my mind to, I usually did well; not because I was some uber-talented jock, but because I worked my tail off to be the best I could be. Which is why a DNF was such a huge blow to my ego and pride. Even this incredible experience in the ultra-world has been one of high achievement so far, at least to me. CR and overall win in my first ultra, top ten at Way Too Cool in my second ultra last month, and now a DNF to add to my resume at the AR 50. So, in essence, I've gone from one end of the spectrum to the other, both evoking deep feelings; one of elation and the other of sorrow.
I've never seen a more clear parallel to life than I have running ultra's. Just like in life, an ultra takes you from the highs, to the lows and back in a cyclical fashion. One moment you are on top of the world, the next you are wondering how you are going to make it to the finish (and I haven't even run a 100-miler yet!). But I think a key factor I've learned through all this is that life goes on, you keep moving. You aren't stuck in a rough patch forever, and you don't have those giddy "everything is roses" feelings forever. You just keep moving and take whatever comes and I believe a critical driving force in all this for me is joy. Joy isn't happiness, because happiness is largely based on circumstances. Joy is an inner peace, an attitude choice that no matter how brutal the storm is raging, you know eventually everything is going to be ok and that gives you a great sense of peace in spite of unforeseen or unfortunate circumstances. Thankfully, I won't live in this DNF, I'll keep moving forward, hopefully more wise and more prepared when the next trial comes. Which brings up another key lesson learned: It's ok to fail. I felt like I gave it my best shot out there, what more could I have done? And it's ok I dropped out because as I've seen and heard from others in the sport, it happens to almost everyone at one point or another. Yes, I chose to stop moving by dropping out of the AR 50. Yes, I got k.o.'d by a haymaker, hurling me to the canvas. But, there is something that not even the most sly of thieves or fiercest trial can steal from me: Hope. Hope that no matter what life throws at me, God has a plan greater than my circumstances and is even using my circumstances for a greater good. "Good" maybe not as the rest of the world would judge as good, but "good" as only God can see and judge, whatever that looks like in reality by faith. I believe God cares more about my character than my comfort, or even how I perform at a particular race. He knows I'm going to fail at times, but I believe he's more interested in how I react to a perceived failure and the decisions I make that follow. We're all human, prone to temptations, failures, and vulnerabilities. But, again, I think the key is how someone reacts in spite of setbacks which determines their true heart and character. We remember the Michael Jordans', Lance Armstrongs', and Geoff Roes', not because they were always at the top of their game, but because when faced with adversity, they found a way to bounce back and persevere, whether that was in the event itself or the next event. All in all, in the grand scheme of things, this DNF is a small piece to a gigantic puzzle which makes up my life. I'm still running this ultra we call life, dealing with things that come up, making it through rough patches, enjoying the mountaintop experiences, and still climbing mountains that come. Although, I don't want to look back at the end of my life and see that ill-begotten DNF. I want to look back and see that I was the best husband I could be, father (whenever that day comes), friend, and lover of God and people.
So, as I continue to process what happened out there, I hope to learn as much as I can, take the good from it, and apply it immediately and also down the road. Looking ahead, I am super stoked to be able to solely focus on the Tahoe Rim 100 coming up this July. In the meantime, getting back to the mountains and amassing heaps of vertical have got me pretty excited too. As part of my preparation for TRT, I'm itching to get in a quality training run at the Mt. Diablo 60k coming up May 1st. An elevation profile such as this is mouth-watering:
Pretty much 11,000' of vert in 37 miles. However, justifying dishing out 110 bucks I don't have is pretty tough right now, so we'll see. I might have to make the trade-off of biking to and from work in order to save gas/money to compensate. There's always the Silver State 50 later in May (only 65 bucks!). In addition, fellow New Balance Roseville teammate Chris Waters suggested the Bishop 100k as a quality training run pre-TRT, so that's an option. I just continue to pray that my body holds up, I remain healthy, and am able to continue to enjoy the sport of running, competing or not. I think spending hours in the wilderness each week will be very refreshing to my soul, as I bask in God's grace and the alpine summits surrounding Lake Tahoe which have been beckoning me for quite some time now.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Here We Go
Not much to say other than I'm ready to just go out and run and enjoy the journey along the pavement and trail which make up the AR 50 course. As with the Sierra Nevada Double-Marathon, I'm simply stepping out in faith and expectation that there are lessons to be learned during this race; critical moments to overcome, faith to be tested, and deep, inner spiritual strength to be brought to the surface. I pray that as Christ endured suffering on the cross because of the joy in which he saw before himself, I too, obviously on a much lesser scale, would find joy in the midst of my suffering which will hopefully help me to overcome mental and physical barriers all the way to the finish line (Hebrews 12:2; I also think it is pretty sweet that the author of Hebrews urges his readers, using the metaphor to "run with endurance the race marked out for them" in verse 1). I wish I could say I always rise to the occasion when faced with adversity, but those truly know me would agree that I do get knocked down from time to time by life and it's injustices. However, I am not one who likes to kiss the mat for too long. The truth is we all get knocked down, yet even moments of being knocked down are but opportunities to find a way to rise again stronger. For those toeing the line with me in Sacramento this Saturday, I'm psyched to enjoy this privilege with you. Let's go out, have fun, and help push each other to deeper levels of pain and endurance in order to see what we all are made of. I'm eager to see myself how this race tests me in ways I've yet to be tested and how I respond to such adversity.
This is what I will be watching tomorrow evening. See you guys out there.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Winding Down
With one week to go until the AR 50, I couldn't be more pleased with the quality runs I was able to get in the past few weeks. One stands out above the others though. This past Monday, after mother nature dumped an ungodly amount of snow upon the Sierra Nevada's and thereabouts, I was able to get up to Michigan Bluff for the day. I originally had planned a descent from the 'Bluff down into El Dorado Canyon, up the other side to Deadwood Cemetery and over to Devil's Thumb for a go-around. However, after my run began, I was greeted by shin-deep snow just a stones throw from the top of the climb. It was initially pretty fun sludging through this icy and somewhat slushy terrain (it was nearly 70 degrees out) and the snow disappeared as I further descended down toward the bottom of the canyon (snow level was anywhere from 2,500' to 3,000'). I say it was initially fun because after about a mile and a half up toward Deadwood, the snow got much deeper. This was surely fun, trail-breaking up the mountain, but the blood which covered my legs soon after was not so much. After trudging through and breaking trail, which was now knee-to-hip deep, I began to noticed the snow cutting into my skin. I thought about turning around and settling for an easy lap back up to Michigan Bluff, but something inside me begged to continue and make it to Deadwood Cemetery (there was no way I was making it to Devil's Thumb). As I channeled the pain and discomfort, my focus was to reach my destination no matter what.
After I reached the cemetery, I felt a slight relief, but knew I had to turn around and plow through again. My deep footprints didn't seem to help my footing as I worked my hip-flexors more and more on the descent. I then began to get really frustrated because of this ongoing affair and yelled out some colorful words to voice how uncomfortably the snow was cutting into my exposed legs. After letting off some steam, I then felt much better and got back to work, one step at a time.
Eventually, the shin-deep snow became very runnable on the descent and like a human toboggan, I just let it flow back down into the canyon. Up to Michigan Bluff, I just climbed comfortably, but when I met the ankle-to-shin deep snow again, my energy levels plummeted a bit. I didn't realized how much energy I had burned putting in all that effort trail-breaking. On top of that, I felt some good fatigue, particularly in areas I wasn't accustomed to feeling tired which I took as a positive sign. With my pr up the 'Bluff at 30:44, I was happy to run up in :40 considering the snow slowed me down some.
All in all, I covered 12.5 miles in 3:30 and was very pleased with the time and effort I put in out there. It was challenging for sure, frustrating even at times, but overall a worthy run and a fun outing to one of my favorite places to get away. It was an enjoyable solo experience. I also came home with some gnarly "war wounds". A swollen right ankle (I must have slightly twisted it), a bruised bump on my right leg (maybe I banged it on one of the hundreds of fallen trees out there?), some sweet snow rash, minor cuts, and a foot long cut down my left shin. I probably never felt the ankle or bump because my legs were so numb from the snow. I will definitely either wear tights or something to protect my legs next time.
So one week to go. The body feels rested, the work has been done, tapering has been going well (74 miles last week, will be about 60-65 this week), and pretty much now all that is left is preparing mentally and spiritually, getting out there and executing. Should be an incredibly fast and competitive race, but with the lineup of fellow guys, an incredibly fun and enjoyable race to match the talent which will be out there.
Above all, I am so overwhelmingly thankful to continue to be healthy. I've been giving a lot of thought to sustainability and even had a great conversation with Erik Skaden about it the other day as we ran from Twin Rocks to Rattlesnake Bar and back. This might be a subject for a future post as I see fellow friends and ultra-runners struggling with injury and this always begs the question for me, "What is sustainable?" In other words, what can I do as a runner to continue to do what I love for as long as I can? That is always the goal for me. Long-term growth matched with long-term sustainability. Week in and week out, I consider if what I am doing is enhancing or inhibiting this? Good food for thought.
After I reached the cemetery, I felt a slight relief, but knew I had to turn around and plow through again. My deep footprints didn't seem to help my footing as I worked my hip-flexors more and more on the descent. I then began to get really frustrated because of this ongoing affair and yelled out some colorful words to voice how uncomfortably the snow was cutting into my exposed legs. After letting off some steam, I then felt much better and got back to work, one step at a time.
Eventually, the shin-deep snow became very runnable on the descent and like a human toboggan, I just let it flow back down into the canyon. Up to Michigan Bluff, I just climbed comfortably, but when I met the ankle-to-shin deep snow again, my energy levels plummeted a bit. I didn't realized how much energy I had burned putting in all that effort trail-breaking. On top of that, I felt some good fatigue, particularly in areas I wasn't accustomed to feeling tired which I took as a positive sign. With my pr up the 'Bluff at 30:44, I was happy to run up in :40 considering the snow slowed me down some.
All in all, I covered 12.5 miles in 3:30 and was very pleased with the time and effort I put in out there. It was challenging for sure, frustrating even at times, but overall a worthy run and a fun outing to one of my favorite places to get away. It was an enjoyable solo experience. I also came home with some gnarly "war wounds". A swollen right ankle (I must have slightly twisted it), a bruised bump on my right leg (maybe I banged it on one of the hundreds of fallen trees out there?), some sweet snow rash, minor cuts, and a foot long cut down my left shin. I probably never felt the ankle or bump because my legs were so numb from the snow. I will definitely either wear tights or something to protect my legs next time.
So one week to go. The body feels rested, the work has been done, tapering has been going well (74 miles last week, will be about 60-65 this week), and pretty much now all that is left is preparing mentally and spiritually, getting out there and executing. Should be an incredibly fast and competitive race, but with the lineup of fellow guys, an incredibly fun and enjoyable race to match the talent which will be out there.
Above all, I am so overwhelmingly thankful to continue to be healthy. I've been giving a lot of thought to sustainability and even had a great conversation with Erik Skaden about it the other day as we ran from Twin Rocks to Rattlesnake Bar and back. This might be a subject for a future post as I see fellow friends and ultra-runners struggling with injury and this always begs the question for me, "What is sustainable?" In other words, what can I do as a runner to continue to do what I love for as long as I can? That is always the goal for me. Long-term growth matched with long-term sustainability. Week in and week out, I consider if what I am doing is enhancing or inhibiting this? Good food for thought.
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