Sometimes You Just Do Things - A Year Later.

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of a significant milestone in my life.  June 29, 2013 was the first time I ran an ultra-marathon.  It was 50 miles of tough trails in the amazing Black Hills of South Dakota which included 18,000 gnarly feet of elevation change.  It was the first time I'd ever run more than 16 miles at one time.  It was also quite possibly the first time I found out what I was really capable of.

Cool award from the Black Hills.  Got 1st in my age group at both of my 50 milers (the other was The North Face Wisconsin).

Cruising the meadows between hills at my first ultra last June.

The series of events that led me to the starting line of a 50 mile race in Sturgis, South Dakota is filled with tales of typical mid-life ups and downs which mostly are not worth re-telling here.  That I should find myself lining up for a 50 mile running race in retrospect seems preposterous.  I mean, I've always raced something, motocross, BMX, mountain bikes, etc.  But running?  Why would anyone want to do that once high school is over?

I couldn't believe I was only half way done.  The 25 mile run back to Sturgis was solitary and painful...and beautiful.

In hindsight though, ultra-running and I were destined to meet eventually.  For me, the defining moment was on an airplane en-route to London for a software conference in the spring of 2013.  It was on that flight that I first read the book "Eat and Run" by Scott Jurek who is now deeply entrenched in my mind as a running/life hero.  That book redefined for me what is possible.  He told tales in the book that resonated in a deep way.  Things changed after that.  I signed up.

Blame it all on this guy.  (Scott Jurek)

That race marked the beginning of a year full of long runs, new friends, plentiful amounts of hard-earned beer, great trips, and challenging races.  During my initial year of ultra-running I completed two 50 mile races, seven or eight 50 kilometer events, and several shorter races as well.  It turned out that being on the trails, connecting with the dirt and the rocks, and truly learning about the fine line between daily life and "the edge" has provided a new way to live - a better way.  It has increased my focus and determination, added a LOT of rich new relationships, and helped me achieve the best fitness of my life at a ripe old age.

My great friend Tad on the way to the Black Hills race last June.  He did the 100 mile mountain bike race the same day. 

Me and my buddy Jeff.  He is 50.  And he is faster than you.

Me and Steph Whitmore at Lake Perry.  It was fun having her there to support me in my best race yet.

Yours truly with Ben Holmes - Trail Nerds Race Director Extraordinaire.  Pic taken in May of 2014, I finished 2nd overall.

Me and some of the awesome Turkey ladies at the Pilot Knob race.

Hanging with Gary and Charlie.  A couple of really amazing guys I'm proud to have as friends.

In this past year, I've run quite a lot.  Much of it has been the ho-hum training runs on the paved trail behind my home, but also in some fantastic locations - Nevada, California, Florida, South Dakota, Texas, Minnesota, Kansas, Missouri, Nebraska, London, New York, 60 times around a 1/4 mile track on a cruise ship, and lots more.  All in a year.  It's amazing how much you can cram into a year, even for a busy dad with a career and four kids.  What an awesome, challenging, and rewarding year it has been since that first foray into the weird world of ultra running.

Running a creek-side trail just outside of Austin.

Trails just outside of Vegas.  Which loop do you think I chose?

Running Mt Tam near San Francisco - the birthplace of mountain biking

Overall, for a newbie, the running has gone well for me and I'm super excited to see what I can do over the coming year.  Sure I wish I was 25 again and just starting trail racing, perhaps even making a career of it.  But it is also rewarding to perform at a high level against runners decades younger than me - and even finishing inside the top 3 overall a few times now.  But in the end, as most people who run ultras know, the "racing" is really just a byproduct.  The real reward is being out there, finding the edge, and getting things done.

My main hope with this post is to inspire others to get out there and test their limits - if I can help motivate somebody to reach a new goal, mission accomplished!

What's coming next?  100 miles...

"Sometimes You Just Do Things" - Scott Jurek

Some fun hardware collected in the past year.

These four little gangsters give me all the motivation and love a dad could ever ask for.

Psycho Wyco 50k Recap - A Tough Day in the Snow

"It was quite the 10^th anniversary event yesterday!  Snow that didn’t pack and hills that got taller.  No records were broken...only hopes and dreams."  Quote from the race promoter Ben.

Friends and family, anytime in the future that I consider doing a hilly 50k trail race at a location that recently had 8-10" of fresh powder, please someone stop me.  Why would any sane person drive four hours to put themselves through a living hell of snowy pain? Alright, well it wasn't *that* bad, but it was the toughest 50k I've done yet and the finish times reflect it.

The race was at Wyanndotte Park just west of Kansas City.  I've run a 50k here once before, in the summer-time so I thought I knew what I was getting myself into.  What I didn't count on was how devastatingly energy sapping the snow would be - even after a few hundred runners had been on it.  The snow was very dry which gave it almost the consistency of sand.  And it didn't really pack down well.  Most people who have run on the beach know that running in loose sand is hard.  Running 31 miles in deep "sandy" snow on a hilly course is very hard.  I give big props to all the finishers yesterday; everybody who soldiered through that 31 miles deserves a frosty beverage.   Which reminds me; Dave the nice guy at the mile 28 aid station who gave me a drink of Rebel IPA, I owe you one brother.

Speaking of aid stations, the Trail Nerds race promoter (Ben) is a first class dude who puts together killer events with great swag (see below) and some of the nicest aid station volunteers ever!  And he brings a some of his homemade microbrews for everyone to sample after the race along with bottomless bowls of hot chili.  Good stuff!

  

Beer!

Cool medal!

For an aid station volunteers perspective, check out this short and entertaining blog article about the race - http://ewelsh723.blogspot.com/2014/02/winter-is-natures-way-of-saying-up-yours.html?spref=fb

So in short, my day of running was not amazing; I came in 22nd out of the 69 runners who finished. There were 144 total 50k runners; around half of whom either didn't finish or "dropped down" to two laps (20 miles).  Congrats to those who dropped down for being a bit smarter than me.  Anyway, 22nd overall was about all I could muster (4th in the old man age group). My finish time was 6 hours and 48 minutes; which is more than an hour longer than a 50k on that course would take me in good conditions.  

The answer is no, there was not another way around this.

But on this one I probably need to cut myself some slack.  On a training run about two weeks ago in Tampa, I tore up my lower calf muscle pretty good and was not able to run a single time in the two weeks leading up to Psycho.  I have done some serious tapers before, but this was ridiculous!   I could have skipped the event, but the truth is I needed a good day of running/training, and I just wanted to finish the fucking race in one piece.

The debate among my running friends, my coach, and my sports massage therapist was whether or not I should run the race at all.  I was on the fence, but a few days before the race it seemed that I was able to walk without limping and Cindy (my fantastic sports massage therapist) had taped my leg up pretty good to support the torn muscle.  That, along with some yoga and pool time, gave me just enough confidence to give it a shot.

Camo Tape!

I told my buddies at the start of the day that I have never, ever DNF'd before, and that I certainly didn't plan to start.  A running buddy (Justin) told me at the start not to push myself too much because all I really needed to do was "make it from the car to the bar" later that day. A lot of wisdom in that simple quote, and it played in my head several times during the race as I dreamt of the tasty IPA's that would surely be consumed that evening.

I knew there was a possibility I'd have to consider dropping on the second lap (20 miles) if the calf wasn't cooperating.  In retrospect, "dropping down" to the 20 miler wouldn't have been a big deal given the conditions.  But I tend to keep going even on days when common sense would suggest I do otherwise.

Knowing that I would be lucky to just finish the race, I did something I don't normally do - I started at the back of the pack.  For the first two miles I ran at a pace slower than I have ever done.  But it was fine.  I chatted with some very nice runners, and it was probably the right thing to do in order to warm up my calf and see if things would hold together.

3rd lap, around mile 25 I think.  Love my Altra Lone Peaks!

By about mile three I noticed the calf was starting to twinge.  It was that familiar crampy feeling that I thought for sure was going to be my undoing.  The disappointment by mile four was growing because I wasn't sure I'd even make it through the first ten mile loop.  It was at that point that one of the strangest inner dialogues I've ever had while running an ultra began.  Anyone who runs ultras knows that the mind goes to some odd places when you are out on the trail for hours at a time, but this one was so early in the race.

What began as a standard mind-body self check, slowly turned into begging and pleading with my calf, which then turned into a full blown negotiation.  It was as if my left calf muscle was a separate entity - complete with his own plan, his own intentions, and his own free will.  It was at this point that I told him that if he would carry me through this race I would give him the day off on Sunday.   By mile five, my left calf officially had its own identity.  My inner voice was no longer alone.  I even started referring to him by a nickname "LC" (left calf).

I promised him that I would take it easy and not push the pace.  He replied with a cold laugh and told me to piss off.  I provided a solid comeback by calling him a pussy and told him that together we'd get through the 31 miles - and that maybe on this day finishing squarely mid-pack would be just fine.   Just get me to the finish.

Miles 4-8 were sketchy, I was worried that at any point the calf would seize.  However, by about mile 9 I realized my negotiation with the calf must have worked.  He loosened up.  He began speaking to me with more respect.  By mile 12, the discussion was over. LC was good. Everything was going to be fine...well mostly fine, it turned out he was the least of my worries.  

Some mild frostbite, the other foot is worse.  My toes really hate me.

By mile 20 I was toast.  No energy left.  Quads shot.  Upset stomach.   Dizzy.  Sore toes. This is where the aid station volunteers become angels.  They pumped me full of Sprite, Heed electrolytes, chicken broth, and Tums for my stomach issues.   It also helped getting slapped on the back by the guy who came into the station just before me.  I was on the verge of sitting down and puking, he slapped me on the back and said "dude, let's finish this motherfucker".  I obliged him and followed him down the trail in pain, but focused on surviving the final 8 miles.

I won't dwell on it anymore, but miles 20-25 were some of the worst I have ever run.  But in the midst of the suffering, there is always a silver lining.  I had a period of epiphany during those miles that reminded me of how good my life really is.  I could not stop thinking about the fact that even with life's big challenges *everything* else in my life at that moment seemed so easy.  Running through the pain of those tough miles reminded me that when you put yourself out on the edge, all the rest of life suddenly seems so much less daunting.

Fortunately by mile 25 with a few energy gels in me I got my shit back together and finished the race.  It wasn't pretty, it wasn't as fast as usual, but we made it.  Me and my new imaginary friend, LC.  If you think any of this sounds wacky, dramatic, or mildly neurotic, well then you simply have never run an ultra...

Well beyond 2013 kilometers in 2013.

One thousand, six hundred and five.  That is the total number of miles I covered in the year that was 2013.  I had a goal to run 2,013 km in the year 2013, and made it to 2,582 km. Smashed that goal, F yes I did.

For some runners, this would only be half of what they rack up in a years time.  For me though, it was a breakthrough year in terms of racing and mileage.  Partially as a mechanism to maintain my sanity, in 2011/2012 I started running more regularly and racing in some half marathons and 5k's.  Those were enjoyable, and I did pretty well in my age group, but I longed for more.  And, after a lifetime of being on dirt racing BMX, mountain bikes, and motocross, I wanted to be on the single-track trails more than pavement.  

My destiny was set into motion on a flight to London in early 2013.  On that flight I voraciously consumed the best running book ever - "Eat and Run" by Scott Jurek.  Soon after reading the book a second time, I signed up for my first ultra marathon in June 2013.  Black Hills South Dakota.  50 miles. 18,000+ feet of elevation change.  Prior to running my first 50 mile ultra, I had not ever run more than 16 miles at one time.  Jumping into ultras without the experience of high mileage on my legs turned out to be a bit naive - and yet life changing.   My friends and family thought I’d gone completely insane, but after surviving and finishing the very difficult Black HIlls 50 miler, I knew I was hooked on long distances.  

Some lessons learned from a year of exploring new boundaries:

* Your body really can do more than most people give it credit for.  It's the mind that creates a lot of the limits.

* Suffering is not always bad, however dark brown urine after tearing up your quads over 18,000 feet of elevation change IS bad.

* Nutrition matters.  Among other things this year, I discovered the magic of big salads with tempeh and lots of organic veggies.
* Don't be afraid to use a coach when it makes sense.  Thanks Amber, you rule.

* Scott Jurek was right - "sometimes you just do things"

* Life changes when you least expect it, and the more you fight it the more it hurts.  Embrace change, I'm still working on this one...

* Being a single dad with four kids and a demanding career provides plenty of excuses to not run far.  I choose to ignore the excuses.  Most of the time.

* The more you run, the better the beer tastes.

Embracing the suffering after finishing 4th at Lake Perry 50k.

Race highlights of my year:

Black Hills 50 miler age group win and 11th overall.  Black Hills Results

Age group win at North Face 50 mile in Wisconsin. North Face Results 

Lake Perry 50k age group win and 4th overall.  Lake Perry Results

Partial list of races run in 2013:

• ·      Hy-Veee Drake 1/2 marathon
• ·      Dam to Dam 20k
• ·      Exile 1/2 marathon
• ·      Black Hills 50 mile ultra
• ·      Psycho Summer 50k ultra
• ·      Nebraska Angry Goat 50k ultra
• ·      Maffit 10 mile trail race
• ·      North Face 50 mile ultra
• ·      Capital City 10 miler
• ·      Lake Perry 50k ultra

Finishing 1st place in my age group at the North Face 50 miler in my trusty Altra Lone Peaks

The rest of life.

While running and racing are a big part of my life, they are just one part.  Some of the other highlights/lowlights from 2013 include:

* Being officially diagnosed with Thalassemia (minor), yay.  http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000587.htm

* Finishing my second SharePoint book for Microsoft Press, YAY!  http://amzn.to/1exZJKo 

* Getting a new family dog, Ollie the crazy German Shepard puppy (not sure yet if this is a highlight or lowlight, ha ha).

* Choosing to end my nearly 17 year career at Microsoft and move on to a new opportunity as a Principal Sales Engineer at Salesforce.com.  For those not in my industry, Salesforce.com is the largest cloud-based customer management software and has been voted most innovative company in the U.S. three years in a row by Forbes Magazine.

* And last but not least, another year of (mostly) successfully single-parenting four great kids.  Among other fun things, they were treated to spring break trip in Florida, a week in the Badlands / Black Hills in July, followed by a post-Christmas cruise to Cozumel.  Yeah they are a little spoiled, but hey, they are good kids.  

Goals for 2014

No year-end wrap up would be complete without a mention of some goals for the upcoming year.  While I'm not big on New Year's resolutions, here are some high level things I am looking to accomplish in the upcoming year.

* 2,014 miles 

* Run a couple 100’s including the notoriously difficult Black Hills 100 ultra - and finish that one in less than 24 hours.  If I accomplish that, I will be in the top 10% of all finishers. Lofty goal perhaps, but what the hell.  http://blackhills100.com

* Position myself to become an Altra Ambassador in 2015.  I really wanted to get in their program this year, but I didn’t submit a nomination because I hadn’t been blogging.  Maybe I should have anyway; I love their shoes and wear them almost exclusively now.   There are several local runners who now wear Altras because of my relentless high praise of their Lone Peaks and other models. http://www.altrazerodrop.com

* Age group wins at three ultras of 50k distance or greater.  Getting old has some benefits.  

* Appreciate the wisdom and knowledge that comes with being middle-aged; embrace what is possible, and discard what isn't.  

* Kick ass at my new job.

* Enjoy every beer and every slice of pizza like it's the last one I'll ever have.

* Run.  Far.