The MRC

Movie Night: Unbreakable

2012-02-12T17:08:00.000-07:00

This post is directed at runners along the Wasatch Front.

The MRC would like to bring the movie Unbreakable to the big screen here in Salt Lake City, specifically Brewvies. One drawback with Brewvies is that everyone would have to be 21. As of now the ticket price would be $10 and would include door prizes such as, shoes, sunglasses and race entries among other prizes. The ticket price could go down, but will not go up. We are looking to have the showing by the first week in March or so and it would be on a Thursday night.

Please express your interest in the poll located on the right sidebar.

Rocky Raccoon 100 DNF

2012-02-05T17:54:00.007-07:00

I’ve had a number of races where I toe the starting line feeling broken and tired. There have even been a couple of instances where several days prior to the race I could barely run. Somehow, almost magically, once the race begins most of the shakes and rattles, aches and pains go away and I do just fine.

Somehow I was optimistic Rocky Raccoon 100 would be no different. For the past month I’ve been rather broken – a couple of hamstrings that have been super sore and weak. I’m not sure how it happened, but my theory is that it was a combination of a heavy racing schedule last fall (three 100’s in three months), over training (three-a-day workouts over the Christmas holiday), and Bikram yoga. As I started the month of January I could hardly run. A planned 20 mile run on the 8th of the month resulted in a “please come pick me up” call to my wife at mile 14. The last 7 miles of a 21-mile run a week later felt like the final couple of hours of a 100 – counting the miles, counting the minutes, literally counting the steps. How could I be this broken?

I mostly rested the two weeks prior to RR100 confident that the legs would feel better. I knew I wouldn’t be in racing condition having run less than 100 miles during the month, but I felt confident I could knock off a respectable sub 16 or 17 hundred.

The night before the race I was feeling the confidence was justified. I enjoyed a pedicure (picked a muddy brown color in anticipation of the forecasted rain and ensuing mud), enjoyed a sushi dinner followed by a DQ Blizzard – my usual pre-race routine. I slept well the night before and had the pleasure of driving to the race with Hal Koerner. Yes, things were going to be just fine.

As the horn sounded, I took off with the fast kids and initially felt great. It was fun to participate in the early miles banter. I ran with Liza Howard for a bit and basked in the good energy that she emits.

At about mile-10 I begin to feel the numbness and sharp random twangs of pain in the back of my legs that I have been experiencing the past month. Accompanying the numbness and pain was the loss of fine motor control that required extra concentration on foot placement and made it difficult to maintain my turnover. I focused on maintaining my turnover, optimistically thinking this was just some early race faux pain that would soon pass.

But the hammys would have nothing to do with it. I couldn’t maintain the turnover, I was sluggish on the inclines, my legs were weak and the pain was rather bothersome. At the Park Road aid station (15.5 miles) I began the internal debate of whether I should drop. I knew a decent race was not going to happen, but I didn’t want to drop. I was quite certain I could slog out the distance, but what would be the cost to my body and legs? Would I hurt myself further? How much longer might it take to get healthy?

At the end of the first 20 mile loop I announced that I was intending to drop but wanted to run another loop so I could have a long training run (40 miles for the day) and also make sure that this wasn’t a case of a weak head rather than weak legs. Since I was no longer racing I was better able to truly enjoy the beauty of this course, chat with a number of runners and spend some time at aid stations thanking the volunteers. While I was enjoying being on the course, I just couldn’t keep the legs moving. I tried maintaining an 8:15 pace, then I settled for 8:30 minute miles. Soon those become 9:00 minute miles. And towards the end I was flirting with 10:00 minute miles. The legs had no juice and my hamstrings ached and burned. I knew I was making the right decision to drop at mile 40.

While I know I made the right decision, I was still enveloped in the “race that didn’t go as expected” funk. If you haven’t experienced this funk, it sucks. You feel empty inside. You replay training, the race, and outside circumstances in your mind trying to figure out what went wrong and what you would different next time. You question if you are meant to run. And if you have traveled to a race, you just want to be home. I went to a movie that afternoon to try and escape the funk and found myself reflecting on the race and not even following the movie. Even a long hot shower and good bottle of red wine (two of my favorite things) couldn’t get me out of the funk. The next morning I was no better.

My wife suggested that after breakfast we go for a run. She wanted to see some of the RR100 course in anticipation of running the race next year, and she knows me well enough to know that a few miles might help with the funk. We ran an easy six miles and talked about what had lead to my state of disrepair and how I best recover. I finished the run feeling better, but uncertain as to whether I can heal while training for a 24-hour run in late March, or whether I need to take 2-3 weeks off of running and focus on healing before beginning training in earnest again. Karl Meltzer suggests a couple of weeks off. Any insight from others on this would be appreciated.

Postscript – I’m glad to be home. The funk is mostly gone. The hammys feel no worse than they did before the race. I know I made the right choice by quitting. I’m already flirting with the idea of wanting to run RR100 in 2013 – it is a fun, fast and pretty course that I know I could do well on if healthy. Gone are the thoughts of not wanting to run or race. I think I will be OK!!

Inov-8 OROC 280 Demo

2012-01-29T09:39:00.007-07:00

Earlier this week Greg, Erik, Peter and I ventured out for an early morning run on the BoSho trail. The previous day had been sunny and warm, and the overnight temperature had barely dropped below freezing resulting in conditions that were downright treacherous. Anticipating a slip and slide run we all showed up with what we thought would be the ideal footwear; I in my Hardrocks with sheet metal screws, Erik in YakTrax, Greg in a pair of Altra Lone Peaks, and Peter in the new Inov-8 OROC 280s

We all watched in amazement as Peter negotiated the ice and snow better than all of us. Attributing his grace, briskness and ability to remain upright solely to his shoes – I asked if I could borrow the OROCs…

Today I gave the shoes a demo. I first started out with several ½ mile loops around the snow-packed and glazed road in my subdivision. The carbide steel spikes provided just the right amount of traction to both climb without slipping and run downhill with confidence.

Then it was off to the Solitude Nordic Center snowshoe trail where the deep lugs performed admirably in the soft snow. The OROC 280s are an amazing snow shoe. Better on snow and ice than anything I have run in before. Curious as to how they would perform on asphalt I decided to try running a bit on the road. As I might have expected, they felt like the footwear equivalent of driving on the freeway at 75 mph with studded snow tires – sloppy, washy and noisy. Hey, but these are designed for snow and ice – not asphalt.

I found the uppers comfortable, I liked the material choice for the laces (more of a cord than a lace so they don’t freeze up), and found the 6mm drop to be just right for me. And, they are a cool looking shoe! Run in the snow a lot? Consider a pair of the OROC-280s for your shoe quiver - I am....

Grandeur Fun Run May 12

2012-01-16T21:45:00.002-07:00

The Grandeur Fun Run will be held Saturday May 12. Check out the sidebar for all the info. The way the snowpack is looking so far, we could hold it in March and there will be less snow than last year.

Last year a small fundraiser for the Granite Education Foundation was held in conjunction with the run. Over $500 was raised with all the proceeds being used to buy materials to make blankets for over 1000 Christmas bags given to under privileged children in the Granite School District.

The format will be the same this year and you can read the details in the side bar or contact me with any questions.

See you in a few months!!

Breaking: Jay Aldous Wins Best Male Age Group Performance

2012-01-10T12:51:00.001-07:00

Just announced by Ultrarunning magazine! Jay was picked by the panel of judges as turning in the Best Age Group Performance of the Year for his amazing world age group record run at the Desert Solstice in December.
Way to go Jay, you deserve it.
Congratulations to Dave Mackey and Ellie Greenwood for taking home Ultrarunner of the year honors, well deserved for both of them. Read about the rest over at the Ultrarunning site.

Ben Lomond...Almost

2012-01-07T20:58:00.004-07:00

As I ran along the shoreline trail, I realized that I had planned to run with Scott. It was 6 AM, and we were to meet at 5. I pulled my phone out of the pack and started to frantically text an apology. My heart raced as I woke up from my dream and realized that it was only 2:30 AM. As I fell back to sleep, I checked the alarm clock to make sure that I would have enough time to have an espresso before our 5 AM rendez-vous at Pioneer park.

The plan was to drive to Ogden and run up Ben Lomond. Snow covered the ground and roads. A “plan B” was beyond imagination at 5 AM, so we headed to the North Ogden Trailhead on a snowy I-15 that was slick enough to have a state trooper slide off the road.

It was dark and cold but we left the wamth of the car. The trail was blanketed with a few inches of powder which covered glassy ice. Scott brought along Yaktraxs for both of us, but we could have used ice skates in spots.

We climbed the first set of switch backs in the the dark as snow sparkled in our headlamps. The hope was that we would have a break in the clouds and snow before we reached the summit. Scott and I both packed cameras in search of a capturing a break in the clouds summit photo. Not only would we not get a break in the clouds, but the knee to waist deep snow drifts led to my planting my thinly covered hands in the snow enough times that I had a hard time handling the camera. Hard gusts of wind on the last ridge before the summit were enough that I didn’t even bust out the old-lady argument to push for a last ditch effort to reach the peak. We were underdressed. The wind was fierce. The footing alternated from slippery to knee deep drifts. Our adventure was done. With little prospect of clearing clouds we snapped a few photos with numb fingers and made our way back down.

Beardsicles?

Looking back at Ben Lomond in the clouds.

The run down was fun if a little treacherous (Scott scored a few category 1’s). A little more than 10 miles with some good trudging through the snow was enough. This is a great run, unfortunately, we arrived one day too late. As we drove down the canyon the clouds started to break. We paused to take a photo of the peak. It was still in the clouds. Maybe next time.

Birth of a Mountain Runner

2012-01-04T08:41:00.006-07:00

I recently received some photos that reminded of some good times in the mountains. The photos are digital copies of old negatives, so while the quality isn't the best, the memories help me remember that whileI didn't fully appreciate it at the time, I loved being in, and running in, high places.

Beginnings of a Mountain Runner
While living in Santiago, Chile in my mid twenties, the Andes mountains had a pull that was irresistable. While the weeks kept me busy in the city, the presence of those 14,000 foot peaks ( Cerro El Plomo being the tallest visible peak at 17,783 ft) looming up from the valley floor kept me daydreaming of weekend excursions exploring the lakes, hot pots, canyons and glaciers found within the Cajon de Maipo- the most accessible canyon heading east towards Argentina.

Santiago with the Andes in background

No personal transportaion made getting there an adventure of it's own, but we managed to hitch hike, then grab a local bus, then at the end of the line, hitch hike some more on huge dumptrucks carrying plaster from the Yeso (plaster) mines high up the canyon. The drivers got bored on those long slow trips up and down the canyon and were happy to pick up a few gringos for some company and converstion.

Erik, Joanna and Jerry sucking wind at 12,000 feet. Embalse de Yeso in the background

It's been 15 years since I left Chile, but one day I'll make it back. I'll go for a real run in the Andes, make it to the southern portions that I never visited, and of course, I'll sign up for the Ultramarathon de Los Andes, an 80k romp through the foothills of Santiago.

Salt Flats 100 2012 - Call for Volunteers

2012-01-02T19:52:00.011-07:00

For those folks who live along the Wasatch Front, the Salt Flats 100 is both a great race to run and perhaps volunteer at. The landscape is surreal and just being out in the West Desert in the springtime is a treat. Vince Romney had a successful first year event in 2011 - and is looking to expand the field to 50 runners in 2012. So check out the Salt Flats 100 website and email Vince if either you'd like to run, or would be interested in volunteering. There are still a couple of aid stations that need staffing. Hope to see you there....

Altra Lone Peak Shoe Review

2011-12-29T11:25:00.002-07:00

I first heard about this shoe over two years ago from my friend Brian Beckstead who couldn't contain his excitement over his revolutionary new shoe design. While I did not immediately dismiss him, I definitely had my doubts about his description of a "Zero Drop" shoe. I'm happy to report my doubts have been erased.

First a couple of housekeeping issues before the review.

Definition of Zero Drop: The amount of drop found in the sole of the shoe from heel to toe. Most mainstream shoes are in the 10 to 12 mm range. All of the Altra shoes have a zero drop from heel to toe, meaning the sole is even along the length of the sole. Another important distinction; zero drop does not mean minimal. Hoka's don't have a very big drop and have a ton of protection.

Montrail Masochist heel

Montrail Masochist toe

Altra Lone Peak heel

Altra Lone Peak toe

Why Zero Drop? That's a very good question. There is no science behind the fact that zero drop could be better (or worse) for your running form, yet. I trust there will be plenty of studies done over the next year to discover the advantages or disadvantages. Many shoe companies are already cutting the drop in order to keep up with market demand. My own personal opinion; it simply makes it easier to strike on my mid to forefoot area. For me, that translates into happy knees and joints. The landing is softer and much of the shock is taken up by my muscles and supporting tendons. I discovered this by accident shortly before my knee surgery nearly two years ago. At that time I had made the switch to Inov-8 shoes looking for something with some grip to use at the HURT 100. Little did I realize the Inov-8 310's and 295's had less drop than my normal shoes (8mm), but I did notice I could strike mid to forefoot much easier.

The Review:
Right out of the box the Lone Peaks come with an instruction manual, explaining zero drop and why it is important to make a slow transition into using them daily. I ignored the advice and just started running with them every day thinking my legs and feet were already prepped. I was wrong and ended up with a small strain on the outside of my foot, opposite of the arch. Ever since then I have been working them in a few times per week with great success.
The Lone Peaks run a bit large, so you may consider dropping a 1/2 size. Most of my shoes are 8.5's, like the Inov-8's, Montrails and Brooks and I went with an 8.5 in the Lone Peaks but I think I will try an 8 for my next pair.
Priced at the $100 mark and weighing in at 10.2 oz/295 grams they are competitive with other shoes in this range

The Upper: Comfortable is the word. The toebox has more room than I have ever experienced in a shoe. My big toe frequently gets a callous and irritated ingrown toenail but with these shoes I have seen both disappear. I did catch my forefoot on a few rocks when I first started wearing them because of the extra width but I adapted quickly and haven't found it to be a problem since. The extra room plus the toe protection meant that when I did kick a rock I couldn't feel it.
While the forefoot is loose the midfoot upper is super supportive and keeps the foot from moving around inside the shoe. My arch is quite normal and I felt like I had ample support, however the outside arch could probably use just a little more.
The heelcup feels loose but supportive. I thought for sure my heel would lift, based on how it felt when I put them on but it does not. This also means I have not experienced any heel rub whatsoever.
The mesh upper is very breathable and the protection on the sides are all mountain profiles. While I haven't truly waterlogged them yet I believe they will drain just fine.

Big toe box

Heel with throwback trail rudder

Inside of the Lone Peak, note the cool mountain profile

Outside of the Lone Peak, note the cool mountain profile

The Midsole: The Lone Peaks ride 11mm off the ground and have a rockplate that runs the entire length of the shoe. The protection is on par with the Brooks Cascadia's and Montrail Masochist's. I like it because I can still feel the trail but my feet don't take a beating like they did in the Inov-8 295's and 310's. The cushioning is adequate for mid to forefoot striking but not enough to handle heel striking all the time. The midsole is also pretty stiff and I notice it more on the pavement than I do on the trail.
The other striking feature of the midsole is the wide platform. Initially I thought they would feel sloppy but really they are extremely stable and a larger surface area potentially equals better grip...

The Outsole: Aggressive gripping power with style. First, the lugs are similar in design to the Cascadia 5's but the size and arrangement seems more effective to me. I've tested them on hard packed trails, dry loose dirt, mud, and snow with great success. The rubber compound grips almost as well as my favorite sticky shoes and sheds mud quite easily. So far I've put about 100 miles on them and they seem to be holding up well. I'll post an update in the future about their durability.

Lone Peak on the left, Cascadia 5 on the right

The trail rudder seemed a little odd to me at first but that's because I spent the 90's era cycling and not running. Many of the original trail shoes from that era had a rudder and I suppose Altra decided to give them a graceful nod for their innovative style. The rudder is supposed to help grip on the super steep descents and while I can't tell if it's the sole reason I'm not slipping, I haven't ended up on backside yet. I'm also anxious to try them out for some glissading action if we ever get some snow this winter.
The last little feature I would like to point out is something to distract your friends running behind you. I've received many comments on the yellow foot imprint that is quite visible from behind. I'm still not sure if there is a functional purpose as the rubber feels like the same compound but I'll find out put it in the update.

Conclusion: Possibly my favorite trail shoe so far. I say "so far" because I really need to do some longer 3 or 4 hour runs to get a real idea if they will keep my feet happy. I also want to test their durability, but like I said earlier, after 100 miles there are no signs of wear. Priced at the $100 mark, I suspect they will hold up quite well through at least 300 miles, we shall see.
I would highly advise making a transition into the shoes slowly. Work them in a couple times a week at first. Zero Drop means the the heel drops more and the achilles is doing more work than it's used to. Take it slow.

Anyone else out there running in the Lone Peaks? Let us know your thoughts in the comments.

Parley's North Ridge to Little Mountain

2011-12-26T13:09:00.000-07:00

Christmas day I was busy putting together a ping pong table (who knew there would be so much assembly) when I received the following email from Erik:
"Monday morning I'm thinking of exploring the ridge north of Parley's. Starting just above the Parley's Pedestrian walkway where it enters Foothill Boulevard, and then following the ridge east until it comes out at Little Mountain. I have no idea how long it is, or how long it will take, but I'm thinking 4-5 hours?. I'm sure there's some sort of a trail, whether it be human or linking up some game trails. Has anyone done this before, or have any knowledge of it, and more important, would anyone care to join me?"

Following this email was pretty much radio silence except from those that were going to be "out of town". I was in need of toughening up the shins and some outdoor time, so I replied with "I'm in, give me a time".

View Parley's North Ridge Run in a larger map

The route from the mouth of Parley's Canyon to Little Mountain a the top of Emigration Canyon.

At 7am Erik and I headed up the trail to attempt to link the entire ridge. The early going was pretty straightforward and straight up, gaining a couple thousand feet within a few miles.

Finally gaining the ridge

After gaining the ridge we came to the first drainage/bowl and the trail virtually disappeared. Down below us, near interstate 80 we could see the gravel pit and in front us a hillside full of scrub oak with a few junipers mixed in.

Looking back west through some of the easy bushwack

Looking south, the gravel pit below and the Millcreek ridge straight across

Looking east toward some of the bushwack

We tried to pick a route that would be friendly to our shins using various rock outcroppings and the junipers, but there was no way we were going to get through the next 2 miles cleanly. Shortly after realizing one of my shins was bleeding I heard Erik yell out that he saw something exciting. We were in the nastiest part of the whole bushwhack when he found an elk antler. He was so stoked that he sounded like a kid on Christmas morning.

Like a kid on Christmas morning, Erik carried it another 4 miles or so

Another 1/2 mile or so and we were done with the Class III bushwhack and began the small ups and downs along the rest of the ridge.

Looking back west along the ridge and our tracks

My bloody shins

Not really a "run" so much as it was an adventure and a good one at that. We stuck to the true ridge for 90% of the route but there is a mile or so where it's just not possible. When we deviated from the ridge the south side provided the "easiest" travel path.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and call this an FKT, but it's a soft one. Someone is bound to do it faster (or has already done it) and I can't wait to hear about it.

Here are the stats...

Distance: 9.1 miles

Vertical Ascent: 3,750' (measured by a Suunto altimeter)

Vertical Descent: 2,360'

Time: 3 hours 20 minutes.

Desert Solstice - 100 Mile World Age Record

2011-12-19T14:13:00.054-07:00

Several weeks after running the Javalina Jundred 100 in November I received an email from RD Nick Coury asking if I would be interested in participating in the Desert Solstice 24 hour run on December 17th in Phoenix. Nick billed the run as an “elite level event for record setting.” I’d never thought about records in ultra-running beyond course records for respective events. In fact, I’d never really heard of there being ultra-running records.

I was intrigued to learn that organizations exist that actually keep track of this stuff. The American Ultrarunning Association (AUA) maintains the track and road records for a variety of distances, and the International Association of Ultrarunning (IAU) maintains the world records. In perusing their websites I realized, that I could possibly break an age record or two.

I shot Nick a reply, “I’m in!” And I asked, “Anything I should know?” Nick suggested some long runs on the track to get used to the flat and the turns. That seemed like good advice so I went to the track that night. The plan was to run a moderate 20 to get a sense for pace – and practice on the flat. The next morning I could hardly walk my hamstrings were so tight. How could 20 miles have left me so wrecked? I questioned if this was a good idea. My rational brain told me it was a bad idea and to leave the running shoes in the garage until spring. It has been a good year and running another hundred was inviting burnout and perhaps injury. Yet, my emotional brain told me it would be fun to try something new (a track run) and shooting for a record would be kind of cool. My emotional brain generally prevails.

I had three weeks to get ready…

I called Scott Dickey at Salt Lake Running and told him I needed some fast shoes well suited for the track. He said, “come on down and we’ll get you taken care of.” We decided that the shoe for me was the Nike Luna-Racer. I needed to figure out a way to both get used to the track – and to taper simultaneously. I decided to only run every other day – alternating the running days between 15-20 miles at a moderate tempo (7:15 – 7:45 min miles) and between 8 – 12 miles at a faster tempo (6:30 – 7:00 min miles). For three weeks I only ran on the track until the Wednesday before the race when I treated myself to an easy six miles on the Pipeline Trail.

In reviewing the various records I felt confident that I could break the 100-mile world record (13:55) for ages 50-54 set by Denis Weir of Great Britain in 1988. And, I felt confident that along the way I could break the US age record for 50 miles (6:39), 100K (8:26), and 12 hours (85.3 miles). I just needed to have a good day.

As I’ve become a bit more experienced runner, I’ve learned that there are a few things that contribute to “better days.” The first is a pedicure. Friday afternoon I had my toes done. It was touch-n-go for a bit when the pedicurist tried to remove the superglue that keeps my right toenail from falling off. I was unable to explain in Vietnamese that the superglue was all that kept the nail on and that if she knocked it off I would expect a 10% discount. That evening I enjoyed a sushi dinner (my preferred pre-race dinner) followed by a toffee Dairy Queen Blizzard. Yes, the stars seemed aligned for a good day.

A few minutes before 8:00 am Nick Coury provided a pre-race briefing and instructions for record verification. I felt honored to toe the line with Dave James (who I was sure was shooting for Scott Jurek’s 24 hour record), Suzanna Bon, Debra Horn, Carilyn Johnson, Nick Pedatella, Michael Arnstein, Tatsunori Suzuki, and Dan Rose – some of the most accomplished ultra-distance track runners. The weather was in the mid fifties with a light breeze. Ideal conditions for a track meet!

My original plan was to go out at a 7:45 pace. While I felt the 50-mile US record was soft (6:39), I knew I needed to hold myself back for the 50 miles on the backside. Yet, I suddenly found myself running a 7:30 pace and feeling quite comfortable. I decided to stay at that pace for the first couple of hours knowing that a few extra minutes in the “time bank” may be useful later in the day. It wasn’t too long thereafter that I took my first withdrawal.

I’ve never really paid attention to how long it takes to pee. Most of the time I just wait until a hill to do some multi-tasking – walking, peeing, drinking, eating. I noticed that my split after my first stop at the Porta-Poty was 52 seconds longer. Really?? Fifty-two seconds to pee! Now I understood why these age records get slower with the extra years – it takes us old people a long time to pee! I hadn’t built 52 second pee stops into my plans. This was bad. My next discovery was that on the laps where I carried a water bottle that I was almost exactly one second slower. My mental math indicated that the water bottle would ultimately cost me between one and two minutes of time. Then the completely unanticipated happened, at about 25 miles the Nike Luna-Racers were starting to rub the top of my left pinky-toe. I never have problems with shoes. I had a decision to make, take some preventative action or just go for it. Completely out of character for me I took preventative action and stopped, wrapping a piece of duct tape over my little toe – 70 seconds. Five miles later a shoe change to the trusty Montrail Rouge Racers was required to avoid blistering – 47 seconds.

Time became fascinating, amusing and stressful for me. I run with an analog Timex watch that is always a minute or two off race time. I never really know quite where I am in a race. Sometimes I won’t allow myself to look at my watch until late into a race. No splits. No pace. No distance remaining. I like it that way. Yet on the track, every lap I would see my split on the TV screen and I became obsessed with time. It became a game to guess my split before I crossed the mat each lap. I couldn’t exploit my real talent of daydreaming away the miles because I became so obsessed with the splits. I tried closing my eyes as I went over the mat to avoid seeing the split – but the compulsion would overtake me on the next lap and I would look.

I passed through 50 miles at 6:33:58 taking a bit more than 5 minutes off the previous record. I was right on plan. The next milestone was the US 100 km record of 8:26:32. At about 60 miles good friends Gregory and Julie Castle from Kanab stopped by to say hello. Smiling faces and encouraging words had resulted in sustained splits of a couple of seconds faster – manifestations of the power of friends! I passed through the 100 km mark at 8:16:51 shaving 10 minutes off the old record. Next on the list was the 12-hour record of 85.3 miles. I was feeling good and was consistently hitting 2:00 minute splits (8 min miles). Could I maintain this pace through to a 100?

At about 78 miles I felt a tightening in my left calf. I reflected back on when I had leg cramps in the Pony Express Trail 100 because of dehydration. Could I be dehydrated and low on salt? I had been deliberately very conservative on fluid intake during the day given my obsession over the extra second required to carry a bottle for a lap and the 50 or so seconds required to pee. But, this felt different. It felt like at any moment the calf would seize and no longer work.

I guessed right. At mile 80 it cramped. I couldn’t run. When it seized I was just yards from the Porta-Poty so I hopped in to evaluate the situation and pee. During the 50 or so seconds of peeing and thinking I decided that I might be able to walk, hop, and shuffle 5 more miles for the 12-hour record. I came out of the Porta-Poty and walked the 100 yards to the aid tent trying to loosen the calf and asked Nick if there was anyone who might be able to work on the leg. I walked the next lap while Nick went to find someone. When I returned James Bonnet put me in a chair and began working on my leg. He was grinding his thumbs into my calf. I thought I was going to pass out (both from the pain and being lightheaded from sitting). He proudly reported that he was getting some good pops. He asked if it felt better. I reported that it felt worse. After what seemed like forever and the leg feeling no better I climbed out of the chair began limping around the track on a countdown to 85.3 miles, where I had decided I would then quit. Three US records in a day would be enough.

First a crawling 2:23 split. Then a 2:17. Next a 2:15. Followed by a 2:12. Then back-to-back 2:10’s. The leg hurt. It felt like I was just one step away from having it seize again. But, I was moving!

At 12 hours I reached 87.24 miles bettering the previous US 12 hour mark by almost 2 miles. I was feeling better and knew that I could still break the US 100-mile record of 14:56:19, but I was bummed that the world record of 13:55:48 was probably out of reach. On my next lap I asked Nick what the splits were for the world record. I was surprised when he said 2:13. If I wanted it bad enough - I knew the record was mine.

I was tired. I was close to bonking from getting behind on my nutrition and hydration during the last 5 miles when I thought I would be quitting at 12 hours. The leg hurt. I felt as if it would cramp again every time I tried to push the pace much faster than 2:05 per 400 meters. But I had a plan. I would run each lap 5-10 seconds faster than the required 2:13 split. And, to get me around the track in the allotted time, I would think about someone who would be proud of me for digging deep. I knew the MRC boys were watching the webcast. Not delivering for them was unacceptable. I reflected on conversations with my past work colleague and University of New Mexico track star Ed Lloyd about pushing through the wall of pain. I thanked John Straley for introducing me to the joy of speed work and track running. While my kids don’t get the running thing – I knew they would be proud to say their old man had a world record. I knew Darcie Gorman would give me endless sh*t (as a gastroenterologist is prone to do) if I didn't get the job done. And, I wanted it for Adrienne who has sacrificed so many things so that I can run. For each of the final 40 laps I thought about someone important to me and thanked them!

I crossed the 100-mile mark at 13:52:29. While it was only three minutes faster than the previous world mark, I was proud of myself for having stayed with it and pushed hard the last 20 miles when things had unraveled. It turned out to be a good day!

I came back to the track at 8:00 the next morning to watch the 24 hour runners finish, and to take a drug test as part of the record certification. This was all new to me. A “Doping Control Officer” (yes – that’s for real and I’m not making it up) from the United States Anti-Doping Agency had come in from San Diego to administer a drug test. Fortunately my split for this observed urination was less than 52 seconds! The "Doping Control Officer" didn't find my comment about a negative urination split very funny. The drug test was a comprehensive and detailed process that was interesting to undertake.

Other U.S. records broken that day include:
Women's 50 Mile Age 45-49 - Suzanna Bon - 7:39:14
Women's 100 KM Age 45-49 - Suzanna Bon - 9:34:47
Women's 12 Hour Age 45-49 - Suzanna Bon - 77.25 miles
Women's 50 KM Age 50-54 - Debra Horn - 4:51:30
Women's 100 Mile Age 50-54 - Debra Horn - 17:13:21

Other notable times:
Carilyn Johnson - 130.92 miles (24 hours)
Tatsunori Susuki - 124.83 miles (24 hours)
Nick Pedatella - 113.59 miles
Michael Arnstein - 13:46 (100 miles)

Several important shout-outs include - the Coury family and all the volunteers for hosting a great event, James Bonnet for getting me back on my legs and moving again, the fellow runners and their encouragement, and Adrienne for crewing me and patiently putting up with all the "change orders" and endlessly asking the question "what are the splits now?"

Thanks to Manoj Nagalla and Aravaipa Running for the photos

Breaking News: Jay sets the 50+ 100 mile World Record

2011-12-18T08:18:00.000-07:00

Last night (Dec. 17th, 2011) in Phoenix Arizona at the Desert Solstice, Jay Aldous finished running 100 miles around a track in 13:52:29! That's an average of 8:19 per mile. In doing so he set a new World (and American) record for the 50 to 54 age group. As fast as Jay was he was 2nd in the 100 mile event to Michael Arnstein who finished in 13:46:18!

The previous 50-54 age group American record was held by Gard Leighton of California with a time of 14:56:19, set back in '85.
The previous 50-54 age group World record was held by Denis Weir of Great Britain with a time of 13:55:48, set back in '88.

Watch for a full report in the next couple days from Jay, until then Congratulations Jay!

Wasatch Foothills

2011-12-11T13:08:00.015-07:00

The foothills between City Creek Canyon and Immigration Canyon its were I spend most of my time running and when I do run it is usually later in the evening or early morning. The light at this time of day is almost always amazing and its rare that I don't come back from a run without images of golden colored hills and canyon filling shadows or a amazing sunset or sunrise playing back through my memory. The trails are generally smooth fast and flowing but with plenty of options for steep technical climbs and descents if chosen. Even with all this it is easy for me to take these trails for granted or think of them as ordinary and boring because I run them 8 months out of the year and I am surrounded by many other great trail running options. Some years in the spring I complain along with other local trails runners about how I can't wait to get off these trails and move up to the higher more challenging more dramatic trails of the Wasatch. But every year as the summer heat leaves the valley and the high mountain trails fill with snow and I return to these local understated trails I am reminded how they should never be taken for granted, they have their own simple beauty if you just take time to look.

I plan to shoot photos of this area for the next 6 months. The photos attached are from the first three outings. Most of the photos were taken from Dry Creek to Morris Meadows.

Blessing Way 20 K

2011-11-24T21:16:00.011-07:00

Blessing Way 20 K

Red Butte Canyon & Bonneville Shoreline Trails - 4 K loops
Salt Lake City, Utah - 24 November 2011

Place	Name, age	Loop 1	Loop 2	Loop 3	Loop 4	Loop 5	Finish Time
1	Bob Mueller,24	24:00	20:00	21:00	22:00	17:00	1:37:00
2	John Maack,50	20:59	21:16	22:13	24:17	23:35	1:52:20
3	Seth Hales,27	27:00	20:00	21:00	22:13	26:00	1:55:00
4	Greg Norrander,41	27:00	25:00	22:00	25:00	23:00	2:02:00
5	Peter Lindgren,41	24:30	24:00	22:00	25:00	28:00	2:03:30
6	Carter Williams,53	26:00	25:00	30:00	24:00	23:39	2:08:39
7	*Amie Blackham,33*	25:20	26:57	26:34	26:57	23:30	2:09:18
8	*Carol Maack,46*	25:20	26:57	26:34	26:57	31:12	2:17:00
9	*Collette Mondragon,36* *Sara Baker,29*	27:30 27:30	38:30 38:30	29:00 29:00	31:00 31:00	30:00 30:00	2:36:00 2:36:00
11	Irv Nielsen,65	55:50	50:30	49:50	47:55	48:07	4:12:12

BLESSING WAY 16K

	Name, age	Loop 1	2	3	4	Finish Time
1	Erik Storheim,38	30:00	27:00	24:00	22:00	1:43:00
2	Wayne Harrell,46	26:00	29:38	31:02	18:20	1:45:00
3	John Bartley,59 Warlock	32:15 32:15	27:45 27:45	1:03* 1:03*	32:30 32:30	2:35:30 2:35:30

*Mount Vancott loop (~ 4.5 miles)
BLESSING WAY 12K

	Name, age	Loop 1	2	3	Finish Time
1	Christian Johnson,35	25:30	24:00	22:00	1:11:30
2	Dave Hunt,52	26:00	29:38	31:02	1:26:40
3	Bob Adler,55	30:19	28:00	1:03*	2:01:19
4	Dale Heisler,61 Scott Heisler,27	26:00 27:00	~ ~	~ ~	~ ~

*Mount Vancott loop (~ 4.5 miles)

~ mystery times

BLESSING WAY 8 K

	Name, age	Loop 1	Loop 2	Finish time
1	*Betsy Johnson,35*	25:30	25:30	51:00
2	Rich McDonald,35	30:00	28:00	58:00
3	*Joan Moellmer,62*	1:06	1:07 #	2:13:00
4	John Moellmer,67	1:03**	Partial # Loop	~

** Mount Vancott loop (~ 4.5 miles plus)

# Bonus miles

BLESSING WAY 4 K

Name

Loop 1

Mats Lindgren

Astrid Lindgren

28:00

Shauna Heisler,60

This run has a little something for everyone who participates. For the misers, its free, an obvious crowd pleaser. For the distance concerned, you can run from home like Carter Williams (~ 7 miles) and back home after your 12.4 miles or just walk a whole bunch like Shauna Heisler who was there to cheer everyone on and while waiting around acquired “bonus” miles. For the weather concerned folks, the run started about 60 degrees in temperature while it was still dark before the sun came up and the slight winds picked up. No snow, no rain, very pleasant. What about scenery lovers? The sunrise was stunning with pink clouds floating over the valley. The straw colored grass was like a big yellow ocean with skinny brown pathways. There was still some fall color in some of the trees in view of the course. Early risers -> start as early as you like. Night owls -> start as late as you like although most of us will be gone by noon. Concrete trail haters - because of the recent rains, the course presented a softer texture to run on making my Hoka Bondi’s totally unnecessary. You don’t like the regular loop tagged in yellow ribbons? Well, take your cue from those who add in the climb up the west side of Mount Vancott and down the south side back to the Blessing Way course in Red Butte canyon. Or take the high trail up in Red Butte on the north slope. Or sneak over the bridge on the south slope across Red Butte creek and around Red Butte Gardens. There is always lots of fast running on the course. I personally make sure the slow moving types are well represented, as well. For the service minded, a shout-out for Dale and Scott Heisler who took down the ribbons at the end of the run. Thanks to all who participated in this annual holiday trail dance.
Irv

photos by PCL

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T14:27:00.003-07:00

Happy Thanksgiving!!

I am thankful for many things: Family, Friends, Health, Happiness, Freedom.

And for Laughter.

Enjoy a good Thanksgiving laugh.

Javalina Jundred 100 Revisited

2011-11-20T22:04:00.008-07:00

This past weekend I was back in Phoenix for my daughter Zoe’s lacrosse tournament, one week after running the Javalina Jundred 100. For an early morning run, I was compelled to return to McDowell Regional Park and run yet ANOTHER loop on the Pemberton trail (the JJ100 is comprised of 6+ loops on the Pemberton trail).

The morning of my run I woke with great excitement. It was a beautiful crisp morning and I was anxious to go run. I couldn’t wait to run the course without the pressure of time and just daydream the miles away. While my legs were still heavy from the race, I was pleased that I had no significant post race shakes or rattles. This was going to be a great run.

Within a mile or so I found myself in a reflective mood. I thought about what a great year it had been. I’ve had some good races and for the most part have been injury free. I recalled that exactly this week one year ago I had a hernia repair that had kept me from running for several months. Just months before that I had had my shoulder bolted back on. Being injured sucks! I complemented myself for becoming much better at taking care of myself – putting in quality miles rather than just miles, eating more thoughtfully, knowing when to rest.

Perhaps fitting with Thanksgiving being just a few days away, I celebrated the many wonderful relationships running has brought into my life. Several miles passed as I reflected on the many great runs and adventures I’ve had with Christian, Erik, Greg, and Peter – and how lucky I am that they have invited me to run with them. I did a mental inventory of the people who have been so supportive, and gracious. The acts and gestures are numerous – encouraging words, advice, discounts, pacing, free stuff, introductions, and miles and miles of companionship and good company.

I gave thanks for the support I receive from my family. While I understand they really don’t get the running thing. I know I am fortunate that they put up with the time away from home for training and racing – and the time at home being too tired to be of much use. I thought about the good memories of being crewed at Burning River 100 by Adrienne and at the Pony Express Trail 100 by Zoe. Thank you!

With just a few miles left before getting back to the car I thought about the coming year. I’ve put in for Western States with the hope that I can return after 29 years. Western States was my very first 100. I want to run it again after “taking off” almost 30 years from running, both to compare the experience and hopefully at age 50 run it markedly faster than I did when I was 18 (23:21). If I get into Western States I’m considering running the Grand Slam. How cool would it be to run Western States, Vermont, Leadville and Wasatch all in the same year? Then of course, I need to find a fast 100 miler to see if I can break 15 hours – perhaps Rocky Racoon…

As I returned to the car I took pause to celebrate how lucky I am to be able to run and for all that running has given me. And, I gave thanks for all of you who are a part of this great run in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Picture courtesy of Matt Hart

Javalina Jundred 100 Race Report

2011-11-14T09:25:00.019-07:00

The Pony Express Trail brought me to Phoenix for the Javalina Jundred. Perhaps I should explain.

Three weeks ago I ran the Pony Express Trail 100 with the goal of breaking 15 hours. I missed the mark running a 15:06. At my age, when you know your performance decreases by about 2% a year after age 35, or put another way, each week of your life you will be half a minute slower running a hundred miles (assuming a 24 hour finishing time) time is of the essence.

The day after failing to break 15 at the Pony Express Trail 100 I signed up for the JJ 100. By my crude math I figured my advancing age would only handicap me by a minute or so, giving me a decent shot to go sub 15. However, I failed to read the fine print on the website, the Javalina Jundred is 101.4 miles long. Yikes! I would have to overcome age – and an extra mile and half!

I know I can run a sub 15 if I can get everything right. In an effort to get it right I asked Matt Hart to both crew and pace me. Matt would be my secret weapon that would overcome that extra distance and those extra years.

The Javalina Jundred is an interesting race in that it is comprised of 6 - 15.4 mile washing machine loops with a final 9-mile loop at the end. It is known as being a fast course. Yet, it has its challenges; heat, exposure to the sun, some long slow climbs, and for some, boredom. In many ways, a perfect race for me.

I joined the lead group of Hal Koerner and Liza Howard. While I immediately knew the pace was too fast for me, I enjoyed the company and being out front. Hal and I would finish the first 15.4-mile loop in 1:50. I could tell that Hal was running strong and feeling motivated. Something told me this was going to be his day and that I better let him go before I paid too big of a price for trying to hang with him. As he pulled away, I let him know that I had attached a cosmic rubber band to him that I hoped would slingshot me to a sub 15.

I struggled through loop number 2. The adrenaline from the start had worn off. My legs felt heavy from going out fast. And, I knew I had a long day ahead of me in the washing machine. At about mile 23 Evan Holyfield passed me and I watched him slowly pull away. He looked strong. I was dragging. I was not motivated enough to try and do anything about it. Yet, that was the right decision. I was running at a 14:20 pace and to try and go any faster would have been risky.

Things turned around during loops number 3 and 4. Maybe it was the tunes I picked up at the turnaround. Maybe it was the knowledge that I was on a good pace (6:50 50 mile split). It could have been the Mountain Dew that was going down so well. And, passing Liza Howard at the turnarounds with her encouraging words and beautiful smile certainly helped. I was getting into the zone…

I find it interesting that I can seldom predict what is going to sit well nutrition-wise for any one race. Just when I think I’ve got it figured out, I completely surprise myself. The Javalina Jundred was no exception. I started out with some Perpetum in my bottles and sucking down a gel every 30 minutes with plans to snack my way through the race on bars, gels and dried mangos, my usual favorites. Then, I mistakenly grabbed a cup of Mt. Dew at an aid station thinking it was an electrolyte drink. It tasted damn good! So good in fact, that I helped myself to second! For the rest of the race I drank mostly Mt. Dew, converting over to Coke after about mile 70. I probably only ate about 10 gels. The only other food I consumed was some dried ginger at Jackass Junction (the best dried ginger I have ever eaten – where did it come from?) and some gummy worms. My stomach felt good the entire race.

During the 5th loop I started to drag and began to fall off my pace. I just tried to keep moving knowing I had a good cushion of time in the bank. I kept repeating to myself, “no slower than 9, no slower than 9.” I was looking forward to loop number 6 where Matt Hart would be pacing me and could push me.

Matt and I headed out on loop 6 with exactly 4 hours to cover 24 miles for a sub 15. We were both bullish on me achieving my goal. While we made good time up to Jackass Junction, my pace dropped considerably once it turned dark. I was having trouble seeing. For some reason my lamp seemed dim. I was sure I had put new batteries in it. Yet I wondered to myself, “Had I?”. The oncoming lamps of runners going the other direction were compromising my night vision. I was tripping on rocks and stumbling. I knew it was only a matter of time before I fell. Wham! Down I went. It hurt. I immediately lost confidence and started to run tentatively, not opening up on the descents like I needed to do. Plus, I was starting to feel tired and I could tell I was running out of gas. I had a hard time maintaining the turnover I needed to keep my pace. I slowly watched all the minutes I had put in the time bank lapse away. At some point I knew, sub 15 was not going to happen.

I finished in 15:20. Well off my goal, but I still felt I had run a good race. Other than going out too fast and loosing confidence to run more aggressively in the dark, I had made no mistakes. Congrats to Hal and Liza who both crushed the course records, and Evan who ran 20 minutes under the old course record. Bravo!

Top finishers include:

Hal Koerner – 13:47
Evan Honeyfield – 14:01
Jay Aldous – 15:20
Mark Matyazic – 16:34
Jay Smithberger – 17:01

Elizabeth “Liza” Howard – 15:47
Brenda Corona – 19:54
Linda Pulver – 20:25
Rhonda Sundermeirer - 21:16
Jess Mullen - 21:57

Thanks to Matt Hart for trekking down to Phoenix to crew and pace me. I appreciated both his help and his company! Thanks to Jamil and Nick Coury for organizing a great event.

Post Mortem – the running shoes were retired to the garage last night. The skate skis are waxed and ready for some gliding later in the week when my ass feels a little less tired. Sub 15 – well – that will have to wait for next year for when I’m older and biologically about 10 minutes slower…. But, it will happen!

Urban Adventure Run - Montreal

2011-11-10T08:39:00.000-07:00

“Bienvenue a Montreal“ was the greeting from the Canadian immigration officer as we arrived in Montreal for our annual MRC Urban Adventure Run. This year we selected Montreal for its tough and technical trails, long and important history, and reputation for good food.

Our base camp for our two-day adventure would be Old Montreal, one of the oldest urban settlements in North America, dating back to 1642. The architecture, cobbled streets, and prevalence of French make it feel like we had traveled across the Atlantic to France. During our first evening we explored the city by foot enjoying the energy of the people on the streets and the magic of the lights. We fueled ourselves at an Ethiopian restaurant where we fine-tuned plans for our two runs: Day 1 – a technical trail run, and Day 2 – a run through the city of Montreal

On the advice of Phil Villeneuve, Canadian Team Solomon runner we headed north two hours by car to Mt. Tremblant where we would run the 35km Ultimate XC course.

View Montreal - Mt Tremblant Run in a larger map

We mocked the course for being “ultimate - NOT” as we started out running on a paved bike path. We were amused by the liberal interpretation of “ultimate” as the trail then turned into easily runnable double-track. We ate our words when the route turned into technical single-track with ankle busting holes, roots that snuck out and tripped you, bogs that sucked the shoes of your feet, and downed trees that required crawling over, under and through! This was a tough run that definitely earned the inclusion of “ultimate” in its name! Afterwards we enjoyed dinner in the Village of Tremblant and shared stories of our “ultimate” day over barley-based energy drinks!

For our tour de Montreal we created a 26km run that started at the Olympic Stadium, worked its way through Northern Montreal to the top of Mt. Royal. From the top of Montreal we worked our way across McGill University, through downtown Montreal, across the St. Laurence River to St. Helens Island and back across the river into Old Town.

We marveled at the diversity of the architecture, the friendliness of the people, and the beauty of the French language. As we covered the kilometers – we felt more and more immersed in the magic of Montreal. During an obligatory stop at Canadian Tire (Jay’s favorite store) we reached that zenith of feeling that we were a part of the fabric of the city – we ogled at the hockey skates, debated what tire tread design performs best in the snow, marveled at the selection of screws and nuts, and even attempted to ask in French where the bathrooms were located. Whoops – we knew we had pushed too far in our effort to become one with the people of Montreal when the response in perfect English was, “right after the tire display. You’ll need a key.”

Running provides a great means to see a city and mingle with its people. Our runs did not disappoint. As we celebrated two great days in Quebec with a fine Indian meal on our final night, we began making plans for MRC Urban Adventure run 2012!!

We hope you enjoy some pictures up in the sidebar.

Wasatch 100 - 2011 Race Report - Christian

2011-11-01T19:40:00.001-06:00

I've been thinking about this post for quite a while now and how I wanted to characterize my race. I suppose it has taken this long because up until a few days ago I still didn't know how I felt about it. Then I remembered a conversation I had with my mother back in '05 before the biggest road cycling race of my life, Elite Nationals.

Elite Nats is reserved for the top amateur cyclists in the country, Category 1 racers. Normally Cat 1's race with Pro's and Cat 2's for the majority of races throughout the year, but once a year the top amateurs get their chance to race for the stars and bars (National Championship jersey). If the winner is young enough (early 20's) they will often score a pro contract. I had no illusions of winning or scoring a pro contract but I did want to get a top placing, perhaps even a top 10. A few days before the race I was telling my mom about it and some of the concerns I had. Mainly the competition and the distance of the course. At 125 miles it was about 30 to 40 miles longer than we would normally race and when I told her this she tried to calm my nerves by telling me that she "was sure I could finish". I just sat there speechless for a few seconds. She clearly didn't understand. All the years I had spent preparing for this race was not to simply see if I could finish, I already knew that was possible. I wanted more. I wanted a great result.

That's me on the front of a breakaway mid-race, 2005 Elite Nats

Elite Nationals was probably one of the toughest one day races I ever took part in (including LotoJa) and I gave it everything to get a good result, including getting into a breakaway. In the end I finished anonymously in 65th several minutes down, but satisfied with my effort.

What does this have to do with Wasatch? Well, I'm at the point where I know I can finish and now I want more. The trouble with this kind of mentality and 100 milers is that if you "go for it" and blow up trying you can jeopardize a finish. If you don't finish, you risk not getting into the next edition now that we're in the era of lotteries for the best races (assuming one does not have "X" amount of finishes to guarantee entry). The bottom line is that suffering is not optional even on a good day, blow up in the middle of the race and you will not only be suffering, you will be spending a great deal of time deep inside the pain cave. A place I have become all too familiar with lately. So that's the way I decided to approach Wasatch this year, go for it or blow up trying.

I took off from the start at a pretty good pace wanting to stay out of the dust storm on the early part of the course. I settled in somewhere in the back half of the top ten. I could see all the guys vying for the win in front of me, including Storheim when I started the real climbing. Upon reaching Chinscraper I saw my friend Erich Peitzsch and Troy Howard coming up from behind. We enjoyed a few easy miles along the ridge together before Troy took off on the long dirt road before Francis Peak. I reached the aid station in a little over 3.5 hours slightly ahead of schedule but feeling great. Besides stopping for a bio break a short time after leaving Francis Peak I felt great all the way to Sessions at mile 28. I had been eating clif bloks and GU chomps making a conscious effort to stay away from gels for at least the first half of the race. At Sessions my stomach felt a little tight so I just backed off a bit and saw Greg a little bit behind me.

Shortly before Swallow Rocks at mile 35 Greg caught me and told me about the knee trouble Peter was having. It sounded like an IT band issue and I was genuinely concerned. Then we rolled into Swallow Rocks and found Erik in a chair. Greg and I dragged him out of the chair with a popsicle in hand as we made our way to Big Mountain. I was concerned for my friends and in retrospect I probably lost a little focus on my race through this section.

At Big Mountain with Betsy

The trail from Big Mountain to Lambs canyon has always been my achilles heel in past Wasatch 100's and I ended up giving the section a lot of thought as I drew closer. Greg, Erik and myself all hit Big Mountain at mile 39 within seconds of each other. Betsy had everything ready for me but I still took my time making sure everything was perfect for the section from hell. Greg got out a minute ahead of Erik and I, which was probably a good thing as I took it slow with Erik and his pacer. He needed some time to put his stomach together and I needed to keep a lid on it while traversing the hot, exposed ridge line. I kept sight of Greg in front and eventually I saw Peter catching up to us which was a welcome relief. As Peter and Scott Dickey (his pacer) caught up to me I just latched on and kept going. I was so stoked to have made it across the ridge I was already celebrating even though I had several miles until I reached Alexander Aid Station at mile 47.

Peter turned on the jets on the last little descent to the aid station and I just cruised it in. I was so happy I raised my arms above my head and threw my water bottles on the ground proclaiming victory. The aid station staff looked at me kind of funny then one of them said "this isn't the finish". "Yes, yes, I know" I replied, "but you have no idea how great it feels to complete that section without feeling like I want to die". "Still a long way to go" one of them said as they filled my bottles and watched Peter run down the trail. "Thanks, I know it all too well" and off I went.

Slowly things started to unravel as I climbed the pipeline right of way just a couple miles out of the aid station. The effort required to move forward became harder and harder, my legs suddenly felt like I was at mile 75 not mile 50. The realization of what was in front of me crystallized in my mind and the black hole of the cave opened in front of me. I begrudgingly stepped inside and accepted my fate.

The railroad grade down to the Lambs Canyon aid station felt incredibly slow no matter how hard I tried to quicken my pace. Upon reaching the aid station I spent 20 minutes trying to put things back together. Between Betsy and my friend Drew (Erik's next pacer) they did their best to get my overheated body cooled down and I did my best to put on a brave face.

Lambs Canyon aid station. (Photo: Brooke Storheim)

I left Lambs feeling a bit better than when I arrived but I was not completely convinced things were going to get better anytime soon. Soon after hitting the trail up to Bear Ass pass I lost my stomach when I tried to eat a gel. Just at that same moment Erik and Drew caught up to me. They both encouraged me to stick with it and that I would feel better soon, but I knew inside that even if my stomach came around my legs were shot. This became even more apparent on the descent into Millcreek where I had trouble coaxing anything more than a stumble out of my legs.

Once I hit the road in Millcreek I grew ornery and on the climb up I decided I would stop at Big Water. Before reaching the aid station Betsy crewed me at the lower parking lot where I had the full attention of everyone else's crew and pacers including Marge, Jessica, Brooke, Drew and John McGuire. I announced I was done, but it was as if no one heard me. Betsy simply put some miso soup in my hand before getting my nighttime supplies out. "Just go to the next aid station" she said. "That's just a trick, I really need to go 3 more aid stations since I can't drop at Deso or Scott's" I snapped back. "Then it's settled, I'll see you at Brighton".

Sitting at Big Water. No wonder they won't let me drop, I don't look nearly as awful as I feel.

After getting geared up and popping a blister on one of my toes I hit the trail once again. The legs were still unresponsive but on the bright side I had a big climb ahead of me to get them back in shape. Shortly before reaching Dog Lake I switched on my headlamp and just as I could see the lake another runner was coming back toward me. He was quite flustered and saying something about a couple of moose on the trail. I continued down the trail and saw the glowing eyes looking back at us. "Didn't you hear me? Those are moose" he said. "They'll move" I replied as I kept moving toward them. I was secretly hoping I might get kicked so I would have a real excuse to drop, but they moved just as I had predicted. Damn.

The Desolation Lake aid at mile 67 was a welcome sight where I sat down with a cup of soup for 15 minutes. I was sitting there being angry with myself when a teenage boy working the aid station sat down next to me. "Man I wish I could do this race" he told me. "Really? Why?" I asked. "Well I run cross-country for my high school, but I really like the trails so much more and I think it would such an awesome experience". As crummy as I was feeling I just smiled back and told him he was right, then gave him a little advice, "Just do me a favor and wait until you're a few years older and have some experience before attempting this one". "Sure thing. Keep up the great effort, you're doing great" he told me. That statement humbled me a bit as I thanked him and checked out of the aid station.

The conversation I had with the teenager got me thinking about a lot of things, including the cross-country team I was helping coach at West High. They all knew I was taking part in the race, in fact I was meeting them at Soldier Hollow immediately following the race at 8:30 am for a scheduled meet. What would I tell them if I didn't finish? What kind of example would I be if I dropped out? And that's when I made up my mind to walk, shuffle, stumble or whatever it would take to get to the finish.

The rest of the race was a practice in patience. I picked up my friend Jon Schofield at Brighton for company over the last 25 miles but warned him it was going to be a long night since the legs were now hollow. No matter he said, let's get after it. Over the next 8 hours or so I had the pleasure of sharing the trail with many of my friends and realizing why the Wasatch 100 is such a special race. I drew inspiration from "Uncle" Dave Hunt, Carter Williams, Sarah Evans, Jason Berry and Brian Kamm all dealing with their own issues, but never once talking about quitting. Who was I to quit because my legs were empty and the race wasn't going as planned?

Once the finish line came into view a smile came to my face and the pain faded. I missed all the goals I set beforehand except for one. Finish. It really wasn't a goal I set for the race because it is just expected at this point, but that didn't take anything away from the satisfaction of crossing that line and embracing my friends and family after the journey. That felt good and it still does. 27th place in 26:54.
Thanks to a great organization, volunteers, and the best friends anyone could ask for motivating me and special thanks to my best friend and wife Betsy for kicking me out of the chair and down the trail. I'll be back and I'll have goals...

Jon (my friend and pacer) at the finish.

Betsy and I at the finish

One Last Desolation Loop

2011-10-30T20:06:00.006-06:00

The wild flowers of 2011 are gone. The air is cool enough that no one thinks whether the spring is running. It doesn't matter. There is no risk that you will overheat. The debate is whether to start with headlamp, even at 7 AM. The days are shorter, the leafless trees and frost on the ground are evidence of the inevitable coming of winter. The clock is ticking, but there is still time for a few runs up high. Fortunately, the falling of the leaves is followed by the falling of snow, which makes way for an entirely different sort of run.

Pony Express Trail 100 2011 Race Report

2011-10-22T13:41:00.015-06:00

The Pony Express Trail 100 was an important race for me. I had a number of objectives going into the race. First, I wanted to try and set a 100 mile PR. Second, I thought I might be able to go sub 15. And perhaps most importantly, my daughter Zoe was going to crew me. Zoe has never watched me run, and something inside me wanted to make her proud of the old man!

My original plan was to try and run a negative split, something I have never been able to do because of my compulsion to go out fast. The Pony Express Trail 100 would not be an exception; I was not able to hold myself back and again went out faster than I should. At 24.4 miles I was averaging a 7:22 pace (granted most of the first part of the course was a gentle downhill). I reached mile 33.3 in 4 hours and 15 minutes, still maintaining a sub-8 minute mile pace. When I reached 50 miles in 6:52 and feeling great, I knew today was going to be my day. I had already begun celebrating in my mind, running a sub 15 100-miler.

Then, at mile 65 with no warning I started to get cramps in both my calves. Since the day was warm and sunny, with a light breeze I immediately assumed I needed salt. I popped several salt tabs. The cramps got worse. I could no longer run. I stopped to regroup and took a pee. My meager dribble looked like orange juice. “Goddamit!” I said to myself, “how could I have allowed myself to get this dehydrated?”

I started to drink but my stomach wasn’t emptying. I was reduced to a walk because of the cramps. I felt like I was going to hurl. I wanted to hurl. How could this be happening when everything had been going so well? I fought back the tears.

I walked three miles to the Blackrock aid station (mile 68). In a state of desperation and self-pity I broke both of my cardinal ultra running rules – I stopped AND sat down. My two rules are rather redundant, but they have served me well. 1) Always keep moving forward, and 2) Never sit down.

After about 5 minutes in the chair I had decided that if needed, I could walk this one out. I was not going to drop. I moved on. Rather surprisingly the cramps were gone. While my legs felt a bit weak and my stomach was a wreck – I was running – albeit slowly. By the time I had climbed Dugway Pass (79 miles) my overall pace had dropped to 9-minute miles. But, breaking 15 was still possible. It would be hard given that it was now dark and I hadn’t gotten my stomach back. And I could tell I was about to run out of gas for the lack of eating. While I had been continuing to drink, I had not been able to eat for the last 11 miles. I knew I had to get something in the tank. I forced a gel. I laughed to myself thinking the running part is easy. Eating these damn gels is what is hard.

My favorite part of 100 miler is the last 20 miles. For some reason I am past the pain and hurt. I can crawl into my head and the miles seem to go by rather quickly. I ran hard and my legs felt strong, but I was having a hard time motivating myself to really push the pace. It was if I didn’t want to break 15 as punishment for having screwed up with my hydration and I needed to suffer the consequences. And at some level, I didn’t really care – it was still going to be a good time for me.

I crossed the finish line in 15:06 achieving my goal of a PR. I was happy to be done. It had been a good race (for the most part). And yet again, I had learned some valuable lessons. Perhaps after of few more years of mistakes and learnings – I will be able to get good at this sport!

Top Finishers:
Jay Aldous - 15:06
Kendall Wimmer - 17:52
Craig Lloyd - 19:18
Phil Lowry - 19:54

Some thanks are in order… A big thanks to race director Davy Crockett for organizing a great event and to all the volunteers who trekked out to the west desert for the day. Given the remoteness of this race, logistics are challenging. Thanks to my daughter Zoe who afterwards remarked, “that was more fun than I thought it would be.” Maybe I have a regular crew now, and perhaps someday even a pacer!! Another good day in the Montrail Rouge Racers. For some reason when I put them on I am happy and I feel quick. I’ve had some great races this year in the Rouges. Thank you Montrail. And, I had the privilege of testing out several of Gregory’s new hydration products during the race. They’ve developed a great waist pack with zero bounce! Watch for it in stores next spring. It rocks!

Lessons Learned at the 2011 Wasatch 100

2011-10-17T07:39:00.011-06:00

Wow- It's been more than a month since running Wasatch and I think I've finally found enough time to sit down and write a report and a few thoughts on my experience. I hope that I remember all the important aspects of the race, as much for my own record to look back upon as for anybody reading this to gain from, or scoff at.

Lesson 1: Training
Back in 2007 I attempted my second Wasatch and second 100 mile run. I had two years ultra experience under my belt and thought I had it figured out. I had some good races earlier in the year, I trained hard, and I was ready. Turns out I probably trained a little too hard, burned the candle at both ends trying to fit it all in, didn't recover enough, got a horrible cold 8 days out and didn't feel like I had kicked it until the day before. 20 miles into my race I started cramping and throwing up, and after 62 miles on the way up to Dog Lake, threw up a silver dollar size clot of blood. Time to call it a day. It took me a few years to understand it a little better, but I've now figured out that for me, with the demands of a 5 day a week job, a young family, and the other responsibilities life requires, training has to be about Quality rather than Quantity. AND, I need to rest. this year, from Mid June to September, I had 3-4 big mileage weeks (75-90 miles) with lots of 40 and 50 mile weeks in between. Probably the least ever in mileage, but the best in quality runs.

Lesson 2: Patience
Apparently, I still haven't really figured this one out. I started the race feeling great, running what I felt was a manageable pace. In fact, in some ways I felt better than in years past, and that I was holding back a bit. With that being said, I rolled into Francis Peak in 4th or 5th place in 3 hours 30 minutes, my fastest split so far by 2 minutes. And then people started to pass me as my left glute started to cramp up and climbing became laborious. Then my groin started to cramp, my right MCL was strained and within 5-10 miles I was really slowing down. At one point, I got passed with my pants down (literally) by a group of about 5 runners. About the time I made it to Swallow Rocks (mile 32) I had convinced myself that my race was over. Sitting in a chair feeling sorry for myself is how Christian and Greg found me. They convinced me to walk with them, and sucking on a grape popsicle, that's what I did. After a couple miles of this, and many internal debates to be discussed in a couple paragraphs, I was satisfied with the idea that I would be finishing the race sometime in the afternoon on Saturday. I moved slowly to Big Mountain, picked up my pacer Bryce Hopkin, and we went for a long walk to Lambs Canyon. Patience.

Bryce has been at Big Mountain spectating and cheering me on during my previous 4 Wasatch's and I was excited to have him run with me this year. Unfortunately for him, I was in a foul mood and he was subjected to more whining, petulance and self-pity than anyone should have to endure. He was patient, told me incredible and sometimes incredulous stories of fishing and High Uinta Sasquatch sightings and amazingly, we arrived at Lambs Canyon feeling a little better, albeit 1 1/2 hours behind schedule. This is where the whole patience thing comes in.

My next pacer, the fantastic Dr. Drew Cooper, asked a few questions about what was bugging me, made his diagnosis, stretched a few tight muscles, dug his fist in my left glute, convinced me to down 400 mg of ibuprofen, and 5 minutes later I was a new man. WOW!! I never thought I'd feel that good again, ever. We headed up the road towards Bear Ass Pass, with Drew forcing me to eat and drink. We hit the trail, and I started to feel better and soon was in a full, feeling really good, power hike. Unfortunately, it was through here that we passed Christian, who was not looking so good. We assured him that it would soon pass, and I was sad to have to leave him behind. All the way to Upper Big Water, I was feeling better and better, with Drew reminding me to eat and drink, stay a little bit conservative, and stretching me out every time something started to tighten up. We moved along so well, that I almost beat Brooke up the canyon as she was putting up her traditional, motivational posters on the Millcreek Canyon Road. Thanks Brooke!!

Me and Jesse

I picked up my next pacer, Jesse Harding, who has run this section with me a bunch of times. Patience. Jesse knew just what to do to keep me moving at a good pace and most importantly, kept me eating and drinking. Amazingly, as I kept reflecting back on the day, I was feeling better and better, where not too long ago, I was convinced my race was done. The only "rough spot" through this section was when a PB and J at Scott's Pass made with heavy duty whole grain bread caused me to gag mid stride and I lost my cookies for the first time that day. Give me ultra processed white bread any day (race day) of the week!! I scraped out the PB and J to eat and Jesse kept me moving to Brighton. At Brighton, I spent about 10 minutes too long at the aid station, but it was hard to pass up a seat in a chair, a toothbrush, and a hug from my kids. A 10:22 departure from Brighton was the latest I had ever been, and I knew it would take a big effort to still make it sub 24. Patience.

Al Matteson, Brooke's cousin from St Louis, was running the last 25 with me, and I was stoked for him to be with me. Al paced me last year for about 30 miles, and we had a great time together. In fact, he had such a good time that he came back to Utah in March to run the Buffalo Run 50 miler, his first ultra, with a stellar top 10, 7:56 finish. My master plan for Al is to pace him as he runs Wasatch one of these next few years. I felt very fortunate to have him along. Patience. The short of it is that I felt incredible for 95% of the last 25 miles. I kept a good, yet moderate, pace to Rock Springs. About every hour, my stomach would start to turn a little and rather than try and fight it like I always do, I decided to embrace the nausea, open my mouth wide and get it all out. I think this happened 4-5 times, and each time Jesse Crowne and his pacer and good friend Stu Gleason would pass me. After Rock Springs, I was tired
of playing Leap Frog and decided it was time to nail down 24 hours for good. The game of patience was over. I hit the Dive and the Plunge and let my legs go. Irv's torture chamber was indeed torturous, but I ran it as hard as I could. At Pot Bottom, 3 runner's had left within 3 minutes of me, and there is no better incentive to run hard than to chase someone down with 7 miles togo. Patience!! We hiked the 1.3 mile road up to Lime Canyon as hard as I could while trying to save just a little for the last 5 miles, knowing that they were steep, rocky and FUN!! Once I hit Lime Canyon, I again let my legs go, and figured I could push through anything for the last 5 miles if need be. Fortunately, I felt great!! There is an exhilarating, unexplainable feeling that comes from pushing your body to it's limits, then past, and finding that you haven't yet tapped it. There is still more. Where does it come from? Those last 5 miles I was in a constant state of shock and wonder that my legs and body were responding as they were. During the last 25 miles, Al had said more than once that we would be sprinting to catch someone on the last mile of road to the finish. I scoffed at that idea for many reasons. But, as we came out of the trees and hit the road at Wasatch Mountain State Park, sure enough, there was a pair of lights a couple hundred yards ahead of us. Al pointed this out, and told me it was time to sprint. I gave it a half hearted effort at first and the gap started to slowly close. Then, I saw a pacer headlamp turn back to see what the commotion was, and all the sudden, the gap started to widen. Damn, I forgot to turn my headlamp off to mount a sneak attack in the dark! Al was yelling at me to run, I was grunting in reply and the gap started to close again, v e r y slowly. I felt like I was running a 5:30 pace and in reality it was more like 10's, but I was running. As we approached the last small hill with 500 meters to go, I figured it was now or never, so somehow, I found another gear, and from somewhere outside of myself, was again amazed that my legs could respond. The gap was closer, and I caught up to Al. We hit the last 150 meters of grass and I swear to you, it was the fastest I have ever run 100 meters (which, if you've ever seen me in a 100 meter dash, isn't really that impressive). 20 meters, 15, 10- the gap was smaller and smaller. I could hear and see my family but couldn't get an extra breath to let them know it was me. And that was as close as it gets. I sprinted as Al said I would, Eric Wickland held me off by 10 meters, and it was the most fantastic finish I have ever had. Not my fastest finish, but definitely the most satisfying. 23:32:50.
Patience.
It all started with taking a long walk with Bryce to Lambs Canyon. Although I didn't know it at the time, that was the beginning of my recovery and rebound. I drank and ate, then drank some more, recharging depleted resources. With Drew, I started to feel better, but he held me back just enough to make good time, but still recharge. Jesse was superb in this respect as well, and then, at Brighton, when my race against the clock really started, Al was able to help me harness all that stored energy and unload it at the right times for my most satisfying, and most memorable finish. Patience is a lesson I learned and will try and remember for races to come.
Which brings me to the 3rd and most valuable lesson I learned.

Lesson 3:What gives me the right to drop out just because I feel kind of crappy, feel sorry for myself, am having a "bad" race, but am otherwise healthy?

As I sat in the chair at Swallow Rocks feeling sorry for myself because my whole body hurt, it was difficult to run and hike and I didn't feel like going any further, I started to think of all my friends, and every other runner, that signed up for the 2011 Wasatch 100 Mile Endurance Run with no expectations other than to finish. They would be running through 2 sun rises, two hot afternoons, feeling as bad or worse than I was, and they were happy to be there, happy to have the chance to experience such an amazing event. What right did I have to drop out just because things weren't going as I had planned. Was I any better than anyone else, giving me the right to drop because my hip was sore and it was tough to climb? Hadn't I told everyone that asked me about the race that my first, and most important goal going into the race was to finish. Not to finish sub-24, or anything beyond that. Simply, finish. So, as Christian and Greg trotted into the aid station, and pulled me out of my chair with a grape popsicle, I decided then and there that barring a medical necessity (as in 2007), I was finishing. If it took me until 4:59:59 on Saturday afternoon, I was finishing. I figured I could walk 65 more miles if I needed to, but I was finishing. Luckily, with the help of an amazing support crew of friends and family, a little patience, and a lot of luck, I was able to finish, finish sub-24, and finish feeling the best I have ever felt.

Happiness

I have an amazing wife and beautiful kids who encourage and inspire me. I have incredible friends to run with who push me beyond what I feel I am capable of. I can claim the spectacular Wasatch Mountains as my backyard training ground. I am blessed with a healthy body, and a sound (somewhat debatable) mind that allows me to take myself to the edge and beyond.

I can't wait for next year.

The Newton/Matteson Support Crew

Summertime Rolls

2011-10-11T20:49:00.000-06:00

Initially I sat down to write up a Wasatch 100 report but then I remembered some video I forgot to process during the summer. Then I started waxing nostalgic about Hardrock training then I decided to ditch the Wasatch report...Summer is almost over.

The video was shot on July 25, 2011 and there was still a lot of snow. This winter is shaping up to be more of the same.

Xterra National Trail Championships (21k)

2011-10-05T16:26:00.011-06:00

It isn’t every day that a “National Championship” trail race is in our back yard. So once I heard that the Xterra Trail National Championship was at Snow Basin (Odgen Utah) this year, I got myself signed up to give it a go. The distance was a bit shorter than I was hoping for, just under a half marathon (21k), but it was still long enough to get a good workout. (thanks to Ken at Utahrunning.com for the entry)

I knew Max King was going to be there and a few others who were from out of state, but I thought I had a chance in the top 5. They were giving money out for the top 5 runners, so that was what I was going for.

I started my warm up with BJ Christensen, a co-worker of mine. He is more a triathlete, but loves trail running as well. Even with his 6’ 7” frame, he is a formidable runner. I didn’t think I was going to be able to hang with him unless I was on the top of my game and he wasn’t.

It was pretty nice day, weather was calm and sunny and not too warm. It was a great day for a trail race.

Max King had run the USATF 50k trail championships the day before in Bend Oregon in 3:27… he had to be tired right?? We had a chance...

We toed the line, BOOOOM – holy crap, I didn’t see the canon 5 feet from me. It scared the bejesus out me, not to mention it caused my ears to ring for the first 15 minutes of the race. They may want to put that further from the start line next year. We were off.

We ran around a parking lot to help space the crowd out before we hit the single track about a mile in the race. After we left the parking lot, we ran straight up the mountain. This felt like a cross country race, it was going to be fun race.

The pace wasn’t blistering up the hill and I felt pretty good. When we got to the top of the hill, Max and 3 others (BJ included) took off, at this moment I knew I was in trouble. I tried to go with them, but it immediately felt too fast for me and backed off a bit, that gear was not in me today. Pretty early to know I had no chance to win, haha. I was left in 5^th place, so I had to hope that some would come back and that others would stay behind. I changed my mind set some and fell into a good rhythm as the trail wrapped around the mountain. I got one more glimpse of the leaders on another hill along a road, that would be the last I would see any of those guys.

I stayed in 5th place for a few miles, just cruising along. I had to work though; the miles just weren’t going buy like I was hoping, I felt flat. The course went up and down, had some sharp corners. A couple runners came up behind me and I could tell they wanted to get around me. The trail opened up a bit and they ran around me. One guy slipped on the corner and went down. We stopped and grabbed him to make sure he was ok, just a little blood, nothing serious. We all took off running again. I stayed with these guys for the next 7 miles or so with another coming up behind us.

As we ran, I would lose contact with them on the downhill's ad then gain it all back on the ups. It was pretty evident that I hadn't done much speed work as of late and was much stronger climbing. I really had no business running with these guys, but my ability to climb kept me close. We came to the 1300ft climb that would lead us up to the high point in the race.

The trail wasn't that steep, but steep enough you had to run it the entire way. It really became a grind for me at this point. Not feeling great, it was taking a lot of effort to stay with these guys. Near the top a few of them got away from me as the trail flattened and started to go down. I just couldn’t get the legs moving. It took me a bit to shake the legs out, but was able to start moving pretty good on the downhill sections. I was currently in 8^th place.

On the decent two more guys passed me. One of the guys was able to get away from both of us. I matched the pace of the other guy who passed me and ran behind him the rest of the way on the downhill sections. I started to recover a bit at this point. Knowing there would be some uphill the last couple miles, I saved the energy for that section.

We got down to the bottom and the guy ahead of me slowed down and I was able to up the tempo a bit and got around him.

This section of the trail was very difficult. The up hills felt much bigger than they really were and it took everything I had to keep moving. With about a mile to go, I had distanced myself from 9^th place. I was pretty much a lock for 8^th. The runners ahead of me were too far to catch at this point. I had one more hill to power up right before the finish line. I crossed in 1:28:26 good for 8th.

Max won with a 1:17:59, he is just a freak. BJ was third with a 1:22:25 and ran great. Once he is done running triathlons, look out for this guy.

Here are the rest of the Results

I was happy with the effort, but also felt like I should have been able to get 4^th or 5^th place, it just wasn’t my day. Years ago, I probably would have fallen apart knowing I wasn’t having a great day. But I know now that if I change things just a little bit during a race, I can still pull out a good effort. It was a good experience and I went away feeling good about it.

I look forward to the race next year. It’s a very challenging course and a blast to run. I was surprised there weren’t more local runners there. There are some local guys who can give Max a run for his money, but they weren’t there and he was. Congrats on the win Max!

Fun race. I didn't think I would ever say this, but this race was too short for me. I believe I am officially converted over to the world of ultra running ;)

Lone Peak

2011-10-03T19:52:00.000-06:00

With summer winding down soon Jay and I decided to tackle the iconic Lone Peak last Sunday. From the time I was a child I can remember looking up at the granite topped peak with wonder. It's hard to miss as it looms over Salt Lake county, rising over 5,000' from the valley floor. Safe to say this one has been on the list for quite a long time.
The chosen route was the well worn Jacobs Ladder trail at 12.6 miles in length. Jay had been to the top once before but it had been more than a couple years and I had never been up so we decided on what we perceived to be the easiest route to follow. Hah! What a laugh we had at that thought as we closed in on the cirque.

Not quite to the cirque, Lone Peak is the pointy piece of granite just left of middle.

The lower part of the trail was really quite straight forward but after after crossing through the "cowboy camp" meadow and cresting the north ridge we started heading downhill. Jay stopped after a half mile or so and we decided we should go back since it just didn't feel right. That was the right call as we dropped into the drainage and started following cairns but what a fool's errand that turned into. If I had a dime for every cairn I saw sending us this way and that I would have been able to buy a helicopter ride off the mountain.

Jay, just before getting into the cirque, Utah Lake in the background

Eventually we stumbled into the cirque and spotted the low spot on the north ridge we knew we had to aim for. I've seen plenty of pictures of the cirque but as usual it was so much more stunning in person. Even though the peak was the objective for the day I would have been happy to just kick back and enjoy the view for a while.

The scramble up the north ridge was pretty straight forward until hand holds were required. I knew there would be some exposure at the top but I decided not to think about and just do it. The final couple hundred feet are probably the most nerve racking, but with Jay's encouraging words like "don't worry it's just a little loose dirt", I made it through. He was referring to the dirt sitting on solid granite and just a small hop off a ledge, I focused on the landing and not the loooong drop into Upper Bells Canyon.

Stats: 12.6 miles, 6,120' vertical, 5hrs 27mins.

Summit shots (none of which do it justice):

Jay on the summit with Timp in the background

Me on the summit with Big Cottonwood ridge in the background

Pano shot from the top looking northeast

Pfeifferhorn

2011-09-25T18:26:00.014-06:00

Another perfect morning in the Wasatch Mountains. Christian, Erik, Jay, Mandy and myself did a leisurely run up to the summit of the Pfeifferhorn via Red Pine Lake. My lack of navigation skills lead us to the eastern side of Upper Red Pine Lake which made the climb a little slower and longer than we had planned for but nobody seemed to mind as the temperatures were warm the sky was clear and the conversation flowing. Erik had to turn around after reaching Upper Red Pine and headed back down, the rest of us scrambled slowly through the boulder field over to the steep loose trail up to the ridge that would lead us to the final steep pitch to the summit.

After reaching the summit we had the thrill of being buzzed by my friend in his Cessna. I thought after the run how cool it was to interact with him at such a amazing place. Him doing what he loves, flying in the mountains and the 4 of us doing what we love, running.

After some dried pineapples (thanks Mandy!) we slowly descended back to the Red Pine Lake taking a more direct route down and then finally running the technical single track back to the parking lot. I love running this time of year, no worries about pace or being prepared for this race or that, just good company and great trails in some amazing mountains.

Mt. Superior

2011-09-18T19:54:00.000-06:00

First off, I haven't forgotten about a Wasatch 100 report, I'm getting around to it. Instead I thought I would do a post about a little adventure this weekend instead. For a couple of years now I keep telling myself I want to bag a few peaks in the fall as the leaves are turning and there are no races on the horizon. You know, head out with a few friends, nice and casual like, stand on a peak and eat some dried mangoes. Well, I sent out the call and it was answered by Peter, Jay, Jon, Mandy, and John. Greg and George decided to hit the same peak but started a little earlier than my alarm was programmed for this time of year. They also took a slightly different route than we had on the agenda.

Jon Schofield (who paced me the last 25 of Wasatch just the week before) suggested a route earlier in the week that would take us up the south ridge of Superior and down the standard way to make a tidy little loop. In my haste I agreed, and without looking at the route the stage was set.

Up the South Ridge, down the trail

Peter put together this cool video, unfortunately the GoPro took a dive about halfway and did not survive.

The morning and weather were incredible, just cool enough to raise a few goosebumps but as soon as we started climbing the jackets came off. We parked at the 4th entrance to Snowbird and hiked up the road a few hundred yards before starting our way up the boulder field.

Peter, taking a picture of me taking a picture of him

A little way up further, looking down on Snowbird

Still in the boulder field, Jay and John make their way up

The boulder field gave the ankles a good workout and my breathing rate increased as we climbed higher and higher, but I wasn't really that concerned until we hit the ridge proper. I want to make it clear at this juncture that I am a TRAIL RUNNER and not a mountaineer or rock climber. The next two hours presented some tense moments that many folks would hardly give a second glance, but I for one definitely had a pucker factor of TEN on a few exposed sections.

Soon the route required the use of my hands which was still okay, but eventually I had to stand by the mantra of maintaining 3 points of contact as my progressed slowed. At some point I heard a very different sound than rocks tumbling down the cliffs around me. I'm quite sure it was Peter's GoPro camera that I heard, because I came around a ridge a few moments later and joined him in the search for the missing pieces. We only spent about 10 minutes looking around for the pieces and Peter was able to find the camera, battery, and memory card before we carried on.

Jon and Mandy about halfway up

Jay with the Pfeiffohorn in the background

Just before reaching the real crux of the ridge John McGuire had a large rock dislodge and hit his lower leg. The mood was somber for a while as we let him decide if we should carry on or not. The wound changed color a couple of times as the blood pooled to the surface and then receded. John figured he was fine and judging by the way he completed the run he was right. Way to soldier on John!

John's lower leg

The climbing begins

As we entered some of the climbing sections my heart rate quickened. I was definitely out of my element (Donny). A lack of attention on the ridge would result in a very long fall. Maybe not fatal in all cases, but definitely something to take serious.

The final approach to Mt. Superior

I couldn't believe how happy I was to finally see the peak and realize I was within a couple of hundred yards. My pace quickened in the excitement as I started to run along the final approach. Suddenly my foot made contact with a frost covered rock and slipped a good two feet down the next ledge. I decided it would be a good idea to slow down just a bit to ensure I reached the peak.

Looking down the South ridge we just acsended

Mt Superior! John, Christian, Jay, Mandy, and Jon

The peak was fabulous! We sat around for a good 15 minutes discussing the distant peaks and ridgelines along with the new dusting of snow up around Hidden Peak before heading down.

Peter and Jon about halfway down

John, Mandy and Jay, with the South ridge of Superior in the background.

All in all a great day in the mountains with friends. Thanks.

1000 Miles of Heaven and Hell - 2011 Wasatch 100

2011-09-15T12:11:00.008-06:00

I was 12 when my mom ran her first marathon. Afterwards I told her that was enough, she didn’t need to do that again. The thought of running 26 miles was beyond me and it must be bad for you, I thought. Many years later my older sister, Leslie, was running marathons. I ran to keep fit for soccer, but really felt happier chasing a ball around than running to run. In 1995, Leslie signed up for the Chicago Marathon. The night before, I registered too and offered that I could run the marathon at “her pace”. At mile 22, “her pace” caught up to me. My legs became wooden stumps. She trotted away, able to finish 15 minutes ahead of me. I have never been so sore.

A few years later in the middle of the night in a neonatal intensive care unit, a respiratory therapist, Fred Riemer, was talking about the Wasatch 100. It seemed unthinkable, some sort of edge of human capacity, I had to find out what this was about. In 1998 Fred Riemer offered me a chance to pace at Wasatch from Big Mountain to Big Water. While pacing I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew there was something special about this race, and needed to experience the whole thing. The following year I signed up, discovered that Fred and I were neighbors, and started the tradition of driving to the start with Fred.

Greg, me, Fred, and Christian at the pre-race meeting

Fast forward 12 years, I am sitting in Fred’s car at 4 AM with some silly puffy shoes (Hokas), women’s socks (the ones I ordered hadn’t arrived), and a Gregory Diablo pack loaded with water, dried mangoes, a variety of bars and gels and driving to Kaysville, Utah surrounded by guys with whom I have run thousands of miles. Christian, Greg, Erik and I watched a huge orange moon rise over the Oquirrhs while Fred made the familiar drive to the start.

Arriving at the start was a complex mix of anticipation, fear, relief, and joy for me. If all went well, this would be ten finishes in ten starts with a chance to go for 6 consectuive years of faster times. Walking up the short hill to the gathering crowd is a reunion of sorts, people on a pilgrimage to the Homestead in Midway, Utah. John and Kate from Gregory Packs came to the start to wish us well. Before long we were off on a dusty trail. The pace seemed fast from the start. I tried to get in a pack with Christian, Erik, Greg and Jason, but there were too many others so I gave up. During the first 3 miles of rolling terrain, I started to notice a pain on the outside of my right knee when I transitioned to a downhill run. There is a saying that the pain you start with isn’t the pain you will finish with. I figured that somehow this would work itself out. It isn’t like you get to run 100 miles without discomfort. Climbing was no problem, and the next 10 miles of ascent felt fine. I spent some time with Greg and David Hayes as well as Jesse Crowne and Erich Peitzsch. The downhill from Grobben’s Corner to Francis Peak went by quickly. I arrived at Francis Peak a little ahead of my schedule, and was efficiently moved through the aid station by Rick Robinson (Scott Jaime’s father-in-law) who made me feel like one of the elites.

As I left the aid station eating my “breakfast”, the lateral aspect of my right knee began to hurt. I figured if I kept walking it would loosen up and it did. Greg caught up to me and we ran along together. When I stopped for a quick break to even the score in Greg and my micturition contest, my knee went into full protest. I hopped, hobbled, and swore up and down until things loosened up. Eventually I regrouped with Greg. I wondered if I was looking at another 80 miles of hobbling. The last months of training I felt were going to be for naught. My streak of improvement was giving way to iliotibial band syndrome (ITS). I wasn’t even sure if I could finish. On the flatter sections and climbs however, things were ok, so I continued on, remembering to eat and drink.

Bountiful B aid station came and went quickly. A hug and encouraging words from John Moellmer lifted my spirits immensely, but again the transition to a run was met with resistance and pain. Greg and David Hayes quickly caught me and we ran together for a short time, but I couldn’t keep pace. Any downhill was difficult, and the drop just before Sessions was particularly disheartening as I usually can let gravity take me to the bottom. Now I was fighting every step. At Sessions, I was met by fellow MRC runners Kevin Shilling and Rich McDonald who were running the aid station. Kevin asked what I needed. “A new knee” was my reply. Kevin winced, no stranger to orthopedic pain this last year with a healing tibial fracture. In 2 minutes I was off again to hobble, limp, and yell as I tried to make my way downhill. I must have been a sight. The only good news was that I still could climb. My typical strategy had completely reversed.

Most of the next 5 miles I spent alone. My pace was fairly steady, but I was approaching some downhill sections. Jesse Crowne and Jason Berry caught and passed me before Swallow Rocks aid station. We all left the aid station together, but they quickly glided away. Phil Lowry caught me, and offered that 2 years ago he had finished with an ITS issue, and to just keep moving. On the downhill coming into Big Mountain, I stumbled and fell. I could hear the bells and cheers from down below, but I was in little mood for encouragement as my day was slipping away.

As I checked into the Big Mountain aid station, my weight was good, up 3 lb. I was hydrated and fed. Jessica took my pack and started to assess my needs. She was worried, as the runners ahead of me had alerted her to my trouble. Scott Dickey, who was pacing me for the next section took over. As Scott put it he has had every running injury in the book. I reluctantly took some ibuprofen with the knowledge that I was well hydrated, and that the risk of acute interstitial nephritis was low. Scott went straight into the lower aspect of my vastus lateralis muscle with his thumbs and quickly found a very tight spot. As he massaged my leg, he described the band for Jessica to pick up at the Salt Lake Running Company. Before I knew it, I was headed out, still stiff but better. I now had a diagnosis, treatment plan, and company who knew what to do. The next 8 miles to Alexander Ridge would be a test. This section includes some long descents with names like Ball Bearing Hill, and exposed ridge tops that heat up in the afternoon. The first descent that Scott and I hit, I felt like new. I could run. I tried to contain my excitement, but I literally had goose bumps on my arms. This was not a time to push hard, but we moved quicker than I had all day, and we started to pull runners in.

Just before the turn down to Alexander Basin, I caught up to Erik and Christian. Erik was having a bit of a rough patch, and slowed to work on his hydration and nutrition. Christian and I descended together. He looked great and was exorcising demons from previous years in this section. We ran through the oven with Scott occasionally dousing us with sprays of water to keep us cool. I was very conscious of my water consumption, and was thinking of the value of knowing my approximate sweat rate of about 1.6 L/hr in this type of heat (thanks to Max Testa for pushing me to figure that out). Scott and I quickly transitioned out of Alexander Basin aid station, and caught up to Greg on the rolling grassy climbs on the sheep trail road. On our way down to Lambs, Scott mused that this must be my favorite section of the course as the road noise from I-80 drowned out the sounds of pretty much everything else. We kept a nice clip down to the aid station and eventually emerged to the crowd that was awaiting us. For the first time all day I was smiling. We were now about 6 minutes ahead of last year’s pace, having started the section 5 minutes behind. I was now able to run. My family was there, I had baba ganooj to eat, and Brian Harward (a physical therapist who specializes in running injuries) was waiting to take over pacing duties. Jessica had gone to the Salt Lake Running Company and purchased a jumper’s knee strap that Scott adjusted just above my knee. I was taken care of, blessed.

Brian and I made our way quickly up the road to the climb to Bare Ass Pass. I took my BD Z-poles out for the first time all day. Wow. At the top I had a little trouble transitioning to a run, but we managed to get going downhill without much drama. On the climb up to the Big Water trailhead Brian entertained me with Dave Hunt stories, and demonstrated how Dave chased down cars and bikes along the road. While I felt good, I didn’t have a 10th of the energy needed to break into a Dave Hunt high step run up the Millcreek road. Before I knew it we were at the Millcreek aid station, having been carried along by thoughts of Uncle Dave.

Jessica, Astrid, and Mats were waiting and again efficiently swapped my Gregory Diablo pack, gave me a headlamp, and sent me on to Brighton. John Pieper (from Gregory Packs) was there which was fitting, as he had outfitted me with the packs. He cheered us on and made sure to gather any needed information to pass on to John McGuire (also from Gregory Packs) who would pick up the pacing duties at Brighton. Brian and I made a deliberately slow climb to Dog Lake. We were passed by a few runners including Becky Wheeler, the eventual woman’s winner. Just before the descent to Blunder Fork, I paused for a Don Pedro. Now lighter, we ran the descent to Blunder Fork. The BD poles came out again on the climb to Red Lovers Ridge, where we saw an amazing set of pink and orange clouds from the setting sun. I struggled a little on the crest, meandering in my slow shuffle. Brian got me to force down a caffeinated gel. That and a Coke from the Scott’s Pass aid station did the trick. We were running again.

We arrived at Brighton a minute before last year’s time. John McGuire was waiting and ready to run 7 miles more than he ever had before. We efficiently moved in and out of the Brighton Lodge, careful not to get comfortable. We left a minute ahead of last year. Beating last year’s effort was what the last 25 miles was all about. It was a beautiful night, I felt surprisingly good, and I was in great company. Catherine’s Pass came quickly and we descended to Ant Knolls as well as I can remember. No matter how quickly I descended, McGuire was right with me. At Ant Knolls we were 5 minutes ahead. By Pole Line pass we were 11 minutes ahead. By Rock Springs we were 16 minutes ahead. By Pot Bottom we were 18 minutes ahead. As we left Pot Bottom I knew that barring a disaster we would break last year’s record time. About 2 miles from the finish I caught my foot on a root and fell into the brush, my right quadricep landed on a mercifully smooth root. I surveyed my leg and was helped up by John. Amazingly it hurt less than my legs as a whole, so we motored on now carefully running the rest of the single track.

Crossing the finish line with McGuire

The Homestead lights were a welcome sight. John and I had run the last 25 miles in under 6 hours. Jessica, Astrid, and Mats were waiting. I received a huge hug from John Grobben, and then to my complete surprise hugs from my mom and step-dad who had come in under the radar from Chicago. This was really special for me, as my mom used to get me out of bed in the dark to join her for morning runs. Both my parents mentored this activity. Standing at the finish line under the stars, I was flooded with memories and emotions of how I got to this moment and grateful for all the people in my life who have supported the process.

Resting with the crew at the finish

With a finish time of 22 hours 47 minutes, I completed my 10th Wasatch and goal of another faster time for the 6th year in a row.

2005 - 29:28, 54th

2006 - 27:40, 29th

2007 - 26:09, 14th

2008 - 25:15, 13th

2009 - 23:36, 15th

2010 - 23:05, 9th

2011 - 22:47, 9th

This is a tough streak to continue, but why not go for it again in 2012?

With my Crimson Cheetah buckle and 10 year ring

While it may seem cliche to run through a series of “thank-yous”, I can’t help it. The Wasatch 100 race committee is a family, and they put on an event that is for me and I am sure others to put it simply, meaningful. There is little external hype. What is grand about Wasatch is the challenge of the course and the collective efforts to complete that challenge. Perhaps as grand is the support that the runners, pacers, crew, and volunteers give to each other in the spirit of bringing out the best in each other. The work that the committee and all the volunteers do is nothing short of exemplary.

This year solidified my belief that “pacers” can make the race. Scott Dickey worked some magic on me at Big Mountain. I really think I would have finished 10 -12 hours slower without him. Brian Harward took me through what I think are the hardest hours of the race, and delivered me at Brighton in a state to have a run at my record. John McGuire, having never paced, or even run 25 miles, took over at Brighton. We ran from Brighton to the finish in the dark in 5 hours and 55 minutes. John didn’t break a sweat or breathe hard, and I absolutely couldn’t shake him on the downhill. Look out for this guy.

Over the course of the last year, I have been constantly indebted to Christian, Greg, Erik, and Jay, who are immensely imaginative in planning weekly adventures, introducing new trails, and presenting challenges.

And I couldn’t do any of this without the support of my wife, daughter, and son. We do this race as a team. So while my name might be on the plaque, I recognize this as a collective effort that motivates us in many aspects of our lives. A day after the race my 9 year-old son laced up his soccer cleats and declared that he was going to beat his soccer juggling record of 97. Thirty minutes later, sweating and smiling he walked in--146.

9/11 - Has it really been 10 years?

2011-09-11T11:31:00.004-06:00

Before this site gets flooded with Wasatch 100 reports I thought I would sneak this post in. (congrats on all those who finished!)

Erik has wanted me to post this for awhile. It was a blog post I wrote a bit ago for another site. I just edited it a bit to fit it into the 10 year anniversary of 9/11. Hope you enjoy it.

When I enlisted for the Army back in 2000 I had no idea what I was getting myself in to. I had just graduated college and the desire to enlist grew too strong for me to ignore. Before I knew it I was being flown to Fort Benning, Georgia for basic training and in for the ride of my life.

During my 4 years of service I would learn how to jump out of airplanes (with a parachute of course) repel out of helicopters, operate more than 10 different weapons with expertise precision, make shoes reflect like a mirror (floors too) and jimmy rig just about everything imaginable. I discovered how much weight one could really carry on their back and learned hundreds of military acronyms. I can find any location in pitch dark with only a compass. I frequently operated with little or no sleep for days on end, and experienced the true definition of “hurray up and wait”. I also learned how to react instead of think and realized how awesome running water and real food is… plus many, many other things. So when 9/11 comes around I always think about my time of service since it pretty much revolved around this date (2000-2004). It brings back a lot of memories, most are good but not all of them. Some of my fellow soldiers were lost and made the ultimate sacrifice. RIP my friends.

Very easily I could’ve been one of those fallen soldiers. On my second tour to Afghanistan, my vehicle hit an improved explosive device (IED) or landmine. Fortunately for me the IED was upside down and the blast was directed towards the ground. If it had been installed correctly, I probably wouldn’t be here today. I was injured, but not severely. Guess it just wasn’t my time.

Of all the ways this has affected me, one way was truly unexpected. It has made me love running more than I ever have. Just the simple process of stepping out the front door is a miracle for me. When I am too tired to run or don’t have any motivation, all I have to do is think about a fallen or injured soldier and out the door I go, just because I can.

Whatever it is that motivates you to run, just remember on this 10 year anniversary of 9/11, why you have the freedom to do so.

Happy running and run a few miles in memory of the fallen civilians and soldiers that have died because of 9/11.

Post Wasatch 100 - 2011 Random Thoughts

2011-09-11T11:28:00.000-06:00

It's a bit soon to write up a full race report but I still wanted to get down a few thoughts before I lose them.

First though, our fellow MRC'er Jay Aldous has started his 200 mile journey through the Italian alps this Sunday morning. You can follow his progress on the Tor des Géants "chronometraggio" page or learn more about the race on the main page and follow on Twitter.

Congratulations to all the runners who toed the line at the 2011 Wasatch 100. The sacrifice and commitment just to get there is worthy of recognition. This year saw 186 finishers out 265 starters which seems low, but a 70% finishing rate is still above average according to Run100s.com. There were a number of my friends going for number 10 and for most of them it did not come easy including, Shane Martin, Carter Williams, Charlie Vincent, and Dave Hunt. I had the pleasure of running with Carter and Dave during some tough stretches late in the race and they definitely kept me motivated. Thanks guys. Race director and all around nice guy Jim Skaggs not only got a finish at Wasatch he also finished the Grand Slam. Nice done Jim, have a beer.

There was one runner that tore the course up and set a PR of 22:47 en route to his tenth finish; Peter Lindgren. Congratulations on a stellar run my friend. Erik Storheim and I shared some slow miles together in the middle of the race and I was pleased to see him bounce back and grab another Cheetah in 23:32. His pacer and my friend, Dr. Cooper gave me some encouraging words to keep my head in the game, thanks Drew! Greg was working hard to go under 24, encountered some issues but still set a PR in 24:56, very impressive.

My friends Brian Kamm and Jason Berry provided some extra motivation in the final miles along with their pacers Jeff Bertot and Wynn Shooter. I was also really happy to see Sarah Evans get a finish after watching her deal with some stomach issues over the last 25, way to keep it going Sarah.

I had the pleasure of meeting Scott Dunlap, from the original Trail Runners blog, who toughed it out to get his first finish at Wasatch. One other person I wanted to mention was another new friend of mine, Tetsuro Ogata. I didn't actually meet Tetsuro until Hardrock this year where he helped Roch Horton man the aid station on Virginius Pass. Tetsuro has had an astounding year, not only did he finish Wasatch, he's also finished the Antelope Island 100, Pocatello 50, Masanutten 100, Angeles Crest 100, and Cascade Crest 100 this year. He has plans to do the Pine to Palm 100 and the Bear 100 in the next couple of weeks as well. Mind boggling. Way to go Tetsuro!

The 2011 Wasatch 100 was a real mental test for me. I really wanted a sub-24 run and as I watched it slip away I truly felt like calling it a day. I managed to get a finish but only with support from fellow competitors, friends, my pacer for the last 25 Jon Schofield, and my amazing wife Betsy. Thank you.

Look for some race reports in the next week or so from all of us and until then send your positive energy across the pond to Jay.

Tor des Geants Preparation

2011-08-29T19:53:00.025-06:00

With just under two weeks until the start of the Tor des Geants (TDG) on September 11th – there is no more training to be done, just stewing over my plans and race strategy. Since a 205 mile race with 77,000 feet of vertical gain is all new territory for me (last year’s winning time was 80 hours – I can’t even begin to get my head around being “out there” for three-plus days), my strategy is based solely on gut instinct and advice from others, rather than any relevant experience.

Essentially I’ve got a three-part plan. 1) Good nutrition – a minimum of 100 calories every 30 minutes. 2) Pole pole (Swahili for “go slow”) for the first 100 miles. 3) Stay healthy – no falls, good foot care, dress smart. My usual tendency is go out fast and hang on. For TDG I need to go out slow and run smart. A race strategy that is not instinctual for me.

Years ago I used to fly. As a pilot you are taught to constantly monitor your aircraft to maintain the most efficient flight– do you have the right fuel mixture, is the aircraft properly trimmed, is weight and balance optimal? This is a good analogy for monitoring the human variables that will be critical to prevent a fiery crash during the 80+ hours I will be running - am I eating and drinking right, am I keeping my heart rate at the optimal level, do I have the beginnings of any physical ailments that need attention? I plan on having an instrument panel drawn on my arm to remind me of the important variables I need to monitor.

I’ve had the good fortune of having help and assistance from a variety of folks. Canadian ultra-athlete, Jen Seggar who ran TDG last year has been gracious in sharing with me information about the race and answering my myriad questions. For the past several months of my training she has constantly admonished me to 1) climb and descend – and do it again, and again, and again, and 2) practice using poles to develop arm strength and endurance.

Christian Johnson who downloaded the course GPS data and created a 6 by 11 foot map of the course. Not only is the map extremely useful for planning strategy and logistics– but it is a piece of art that will be a wonderful keepsake. Thank you Christian!

My wife Adrienne who has provided me with expert guidance and advice regarding nutrition. Being gluten intolerant makes eating, and in particular, eating during races a bit tricky. With her help I’m at my optimal racing weight, I’ve got great energy, and I have a host of race food options that not only provide the nutrition I need – but sit well in my stomach.

Planning and assembling the required kit has been an interesting exercise. Before signing-up for TDG I’d never used a hydration pack. But, with an extensive required gear list for the race, a hydration pack is necessary. I’ve selected the Solomon XA-20 and with the help of the design team at Gregory Packs have modified it for my build and the functionality I am seeking. Fully loaded with water, food and the required gear – it weighs in at 14.5 pounds. Yikes!

Critical gear I plan on using includes Montrail Badrocks as my preferred shoe, Black Diamond Ultra-Distance poles, and of course my favorite Armani button-down shirt (weather permitting). Entertainment has proven to be a bit of a challenge given the battery life of an iPod is about 20 hours. Fortunately several friends have offered to loan me their iPods so that I can have more than 20 hours of music AND be able to listen to some new music. Thanks guys!

I hope my training will be adequate. Earlier in the summer I was working on duration/endurance – lots of long runs and a fairly heavy race schedule. The last month has been focused on climbing/descending with a healthy diet of Kessler, Grandeur, Gobbler’s Knob, Sunset Peak and the likes. I’ve been healthy all summer and am pleased that I will be going into TDG healthy.

So, we’ll see what happens. I really don’t know what to expect. Everything is new to me; the course, the distance, running without a crew, European style aid stations and logistics, carrying 14 lbs, and the vert. Perhaps my naïveté will be to my advantage. More realistically, I’ll be facing challenges and solving problems that I never anticipated. At some level, it’s the unexpected and the newness of the race that I am so looking forward to that I know will make this a truly grand adventure!

El Vacquero Loco 50k 2011 Race Report

2011-08-26T19:38:00.001-06:00

The El Vacquero Loco 25/50k (or Ty's race as it's referred to often) was really meant to be a last tuner-upper before Wasatch for me and a tough race to close the summer for Betsy. The race took place on Saturday, August 13th in the spectacular mountains east of Afton Wyoming. The traditional route from Cottonwood Lake to Intermittent Spring and back was re-routed to the opposite direction because of damage from flooding on the access road to Cottonwood Lake. I really didn't think that our high snow year would continue to force changes this late in the year, but of course I was wrong. Then just two days before the race Ty met with the local search and rescue where they told him they would not support the race if the course went all the way to Cottonwood Lake. Ty sent out a message with the news and a new route, a double out and back for the 50k and a single out and back for the 25k. I could sense the frustration in his email but there was nothing he could do, SAR was necessary but it was pretty lame of them to back out at the last minute. They should know that rescuing an ultrarunner would be at least 3x easier than rescuing this guy, which I know they've a time or two in these same mountains.

I ran this race back in 2008 where I met Luke Nelson (who won) and finished 3rd behind Erik Storheim and just in front of the legend: Leland Barker. This time around Luke and Leland were back along with a few other fast guys so I just decided to be conservative and get a good hard training run in. Well I definitely got a good "hard" training run in with a little over 8,000' of ascent/descent covering some sweet singletrack.

Camping the night before was alright, but the older I get the harder it seems to sleep well in a sleeping bag. Morning came quick enough and Betsy and I hustled down to the road to board a school bus to the start. I was pleasantly surprised to find an open seat next Aric and I got to show him the sweet Smith Pivlock glasses I scored the night before in the prize drawing. Definitely the nicest glasses I've owned in a long time! The bus driver was quite funny as she proceeded to telling us to watch out for bears and that we might get eaten by a mountain lion, obviously we weren't from around these parts and the critters would make easy work of us. I thought about saying something, but decided to save my fight for the bears, mountain lions and the course.

Gathered at the start I gave Betsy a quick pep talk before Ty sent us off promptly at 6am. I immediately settled in at the back of the front group consisting of Luke, Micah Rush, Joe Furse, and Ryan Phillips. I was content running in 5th but then I hit the upper trail and my breathing became very labored. It was almost as if I had asthma, which I have no history of, so I backed off to try and figure things out. Turns out there were two guys on horseback right in front of us and I have a terrible allergy to horses. Once I got past them I was just fine and it really had no bearing on the outcome of the race, it just freaked me out a bit to suddenly be short of breath.

The main obstacle of the day presented itself pretty quickly and we were on the climb to the high point of the race just below 10,000'. I was steady in 5th as I crested the high spot, descended to the first lake, skipped the rock hard snow for fear of losing skin and started the steep climb to the second Lake when Luke came bounding toward me. He was already past the turnaround and I had no illusion of catching the Vo2 monster so I wished him well and hit the last descent to the turnaround as I 2nd thru 4th coming back up. I topped off my bottle at the aid station then started back the way I had came. I noticed pretty quickly the 6th place runner, Nathan Morey was quite close but I just kept it steady on the long descent back to the start/finish area and the 2nd turnaround. Along the way I was able to see the rest of the 50k field, including Betsy who was all smiles and gave me an encouraging word. As I neared the turnaround I glanced at my watch. I was was hoping to get there before the 25k started but I wouldn't even be close. Within two miles or so of the turnaround I started hitting the 25k traffic coming toward me. They started at 8:30 and I hit the turnaround at 9:05. I knew right then a sub 6 hour finish was going to be a real stretch.

Ty and Mike James helped me out as Nathan came steaming through the aid station. I took my time, fueled up and left in 6th place. Somewhere in here I saw Micah coming back at us, a bad knee had forced him out. Soon after we reached the singletrack I passed Nathan, then he caught up to me again as I was taking a nature break. After that I settled in and kept hiking and running at a comfortable pace. We chatted on the lower angle stuff, but as soon as it got steep I decided I would try and catch at least a couple guys in front of me. As I approached the 3rd turnaround point I saw Luke coming toward me and this time it was much sooner than I expected. A short while later 2nd place came by me, then I was nearly to the turnaround when 3rd place came back at me. I hit the turnaround, filled bottles and dug in for the steep hike out. Ryan was nearly to the top of the next steep climb when I passed him. One more descent and steep climb before the ~6 mile descent to the finish. I didn't really know what Nathan or Ryan were capable of on the descent so continued to push hard all the way to the finish and held on to 3rd.

Luke ended up cruising to the win in 5:34, followed by Joe Furse in 6:02, while I stopped the clock in 6:20. Nathan and Ryan followed shortly behind in 4th and 5th (Full RESULTS). Betsy came in a little bit later still smiling and happy to finish her 3rd Ultra of the year. The route seemed much harder doing the double out and back this time around even though it has slightly less vertical, 8,200' compared to 8,700'.

Thanks to Ty Draney for pulling the race together despite the obstacles thrown at him and to all the aid station help who took all the supplies in on horseback. I definitely found what I was looking for; a beautiful run in the mountains.

Kat'cina Mosa 100K-Heat Training

2011-08-14T15:44:00.005-06:00

For those of you unfamiliar with the Kat'cina Mosa 100K, I'm not sure how to best describe it. I won't sugar coat things and say it's the greatest race I've ever participated in and that everyone should run it at one time or another, but I also won't say to stay away at all costs. This was the first Ultra that I ran, back in 2005 and I've had a bit of a soft spot in my heart ever since that first finish.

The short of it is that it is a tough course. Early start (3 am), fairly minimally marked ( I've missed turns the 3 times I've run it- which isn't saying much), big climbs(the website says 17,000 ft of elevation-I'm not sure there's quite that much), lots of cobbly dirt roads, and long, exposed, HOT sections over the last 25 miles. I will also say that it's a fabulous course- beautiful first half of the race heading up to Lightning Ridge and Windy Pass, exceptional Aid Station personnel, and for me, a perfect tune up run for the Wasatch 100.

This year's run started early as usual. I was up late the night before enjoying the first night of a weekend 20 year high school reunion, so the 1 am alarm clock was not well received. On the drive down, I was amazed at the amount of traffic on the roads. i have completely forgotten that 1 am on a Fri night is a perfectly normal time for teenagers and single folk to be out driving around. I must be getting old. At the point of the mountain, traffic came to a standstill and it looked as if I-80 was being closed down to 1 lane. There was no where to exit, and I was worried I would miss the start. Luckily, it was short lived and I made it to the start with 5 minutes to spare.

The race started and I found myself running with Sandy White, Jason Berry, Matt Hart, Chris and ??? up the hobble creek road. chris and the ???? guy set a pretty good pace and soon left us on the road. After 4-5 miles Matt, Sandy and I caught back up to them and yo-yo'd until the first aid station at mile 9. A side note-about 4 miles into the run, I stopped for some business in the bushes, and for whatever reason-early am, race jitters, plain forgetfulness-left the one hand-held water bottle I had on the side of the road. It took a mile for me to realize it was gone, but by then it was too late and I wasn't going to go back to retrieve it.. Luckily it was fairly cool, and I figured I could stay hydrated at the aid stations until my first drop bag at mile 16.

We hit the first aid at 4:30, at a fairly relaxed pace. I drank plenty of fluids, and Matt and I took off for the next aid 4 miles away. The next 7 miles were pretty uneventful on dirt roads and Matt and I chatted as we ran along and waited for the sun to lighten the sky. At Rock Canyon (mile 16), I picked up a Nathan pack and some BD Ultra Z-poles. My goal was to keep a good pace on the long climb up to Lightning Ridge, and to drink a full two liters over the next 1 1/2 hours. The climb was beautiful as the sun came up illuminating the upper bowls below Lightning Ridge. I caught up with several early starters, startled some deer heading for their beds, and then I was on Lightning Ridge, and the first game of hide and seek for flagging began. I thought I remembered the trail taking a sharp right off the ridge, but there was no flagging at a snow field covering the trail with no foot prints on it. Matt caught back up to me and we both decided to take the trail. A few yards down, there was a yellowed piece of ribbon from last years race, and then on the other side of the snowfield, we found some bright blue and orange. The single track heading down to Big Springs was beautiful. Fresh wildflowers, lush basins, new sun on the peaks, it doesn't get any better than that. Until, of course, we began descending a rocky, ice filled ravine that I didn't recognize. Stubbornly, I decided to push down not wanting to hike back up to the trail and thinking for sure the ravine wold empty on the trail. The whole valley leads to Big Springs, right? 20 minutes later, after steep ravines, steeper sidehills, and a few choice words, Matt and I were bushwhacking through chin deep brush toward where we thought we heard peoples voices. Luckily, our ears didn't deceive us and we were back on the trail again. We rolled into Big Springs at about 7:35, 25 minutes behind schedule and 5 minutes behind Jason Berry who had passed us while we were exploring new country.

I left Big Springs with another 2 liters of water, determined to drink it all by the time I got to Windy Pass. Matt's drop bag hadn't arrived yet, and he was missing his sunglasses. About a mile later, we ran into John Bozung (RD) and I think Matt stopped to talk to him about his drop bag, because that's the last I saw of him until Windy Pass. It was starting to get hot, I focused on a good hike, running where I could, and the only thing exciting was that I passed the biggest pile of bear poop I've ever seen. I thought it was horses at first glance. It's good to be reminded once in a while that we aren't the only ones to use these trails. Just before Windy Pass I caught sight of Jason Berry, and we came into the aid station together. I grabbed another 2 liters of water and some pringles and took off. Bozung had said that this next 9 miles of traverse down to Little Valley was extra over grown and he was right!! Matt, Jason and I fought our way through the overhanging branches slapping our faces, the extra thick overgrowth and the downed trees. Somewhere in here Matt and I found ourselves running alone again, and then I started to feel just a little bit funky and Matt quickly pulled away. Over the next hour I struggled a little. I managed to keep eating and drinking, but I just wasn't feeling it. Over a 45 minute period, my feet lost their spring and I couldn't avoid the overabundant rocks and roots. I took 6 spills, 3 Cat II's and 3 Cat I's(See Jay's 2010 Kat'cina report for details). The Cat II's being full on face plant, yard sale, tuck and rolls. By the time I got to Little Valley, I looked like Pig Pen.

At Little Valley, I was still about 30 minutes behind where I had hoped to be at this point. I caught sight of Matt on the out and back, drank a coke, filled two water bottles and took off, with the ridiculous idea that I could cover the last 23 miles in a little over 3 and 1/2 hours. I caught up to Matt on the long dirt road climbing out of Little Valley, shared my thoughts that in order to beat Jay's time of 11:27 from last year we would have to average 9 minute miles, then put my head down and started hiking. I knew that the dirt road was long, but I forgot that it was pretty much all exposed uphill to the next aid station. I hiked, and hiked, and hiked some more. I think I ran maybe 2 of the nest 7 miles. By the time I got to the Bath Tub aid station at mile 45.5, I knew that Jay's time was out of reach, and I was hoping to hang onto a sub 12. I drank a Red Bull at the Bath Tub (race day is the only day I can handle a Red Bull, it's like sweet nectar) and headed out into the heat. And it was hot!

The last 17 miles were all about trying to stay cool and hydrated, and I don't think I did quite as well as I could have. My stomach started to shut down a little, not queasy, just not feeling like eating, so I concentrated on getting calories through drinking. Due to the multiple falls/toe stubs earlier in the day, my right toes were pretty tender causing my gait to change a little on the downhills, resulting in a number lof rather large blisters developing on my right toes, Which altered my stride even more. All of the sudden it wasn't that fun to run anymore!

I made it to the last Aid station at mile 56 with 55 minutes to squeak out a sub 12 finish. I drank another Red Bull and a couple cups of water, filled my water bottle with Ginger Ale, and hit the last 6 miles of pavement. The temperature at this point was around 90 degrees, and someone told me that the radiant temperature from the asphalt was around 105. I was melting, and it was all I could do to not jump in the cool waters of Hobble Creek. Finally, the finish at Kelly's Grove. I made it in 11:56 for my third finish of the Kat'cina Mosa. After a 15 minute soak in the river and 40 oz of cold chocolate milk, I felt great and was able to sit around for a few minutes to talk about the day with all the awesome volunteers helping out at the finish.

Matt came in second, just a few weeks after an incredible effort at the Hardrock 100 in 12:31 and Jason finished 3rd in 12:49 looking very strong. Congrats to both of them and to all the participants in the run! It was a tough year to be out there.

Thanks to all the volunteers and aid station personnel who make these races happen! Thanks to my wife and kids for their continued encouragement, and thanks to the Wasatch Running center for thier support.

Burning River 100 Race Report

2011-08-01T14:30:00.002-06:00

The dated air conditioner chugged, unable to cool the hot humid air. Mold grew on the ceiling above the window. I was covered in perspiration, as I lay sprawled on the top of the bed in a budget hotel room off the Interstate in Cleveland. I asked myself, what am I doing?

I was in Cleveland on a mission - a mission to run the Burning River 100 and hopefully set a 100-mile PR. When I registered it seemed like a good plan. An open weekend. A fast course. The possibility of tagging the race onto a work trip. Now that I was here, I knew it was a bad idea

I was stressed about the heat and humidity. Forecast for race day was temps in the low 90’s with humidity around 75%. Certainly not a favorable forecast for a Utah boy who is used to low humidity.

Race morning did not disappoint. The temperature was a balmy 72 (I must admit – it was nice not being cold waiting for the race to start) with close to 100% humidity from the rain the evening before. My shirt and shorts were clinging to me – and I hadn’t even started to run!

I joined the lead pack of Dave James, Michael Owen, Eric Grossman and Jordan Whitlock and we went out fast, running the first 9.6 miles in 7:11 pace. Even before the sun had risen, I was having trouble keeping myself cool. I forced myself to drink. I worried about how I would stay hydrated and cool.

By mile 10 Dave, began to pull away. I needed to stop for a Don Pedro (bio break) and let the remaining group go. At this point it was nice to run by myself, find my pace, and get into zone. Just when I was about to that “other place” Valmir Nunes caught up to me and began to force the pace. I was determined to stay with him. I think he was determined to put the hurt on me. We ran shoulder to shoulder for about 4 miles, each mile picking up the pace, until I finally feigned that I had to pee. I could not sustain the pace any longer.

At 43 miles all the wheels fell off. I was worked from having gone out fast, letting Valmir force the pace, and the effects of the heat and humidity. I was dizzy, experiencing a dull headache, and I was having trouble consuming the liquids and food I needed. I contemplated dropping. At mile 45, Mark Godale, Burning River 100 winner in 2008, 2009 and second place runner in 2010 passed me. We ran together for several miles were he humbly admitted that he “knew” the course and graciously helped me up a stream bank that my old, tired and bonked ass was having trouble negotiating. I just stared at his feet and hung on, glad to have the companionship.

As I contemplated my dire condition, I recalled Christian Johnson’s advice when I had shared with him before the race that I was stressed about the heat and humidity. His advice, “just manage it.”

My management plan was simple. At the next aid station I exchanged my two handhelds for a 70 oz Nathan hydra pack. Someone at the aid station commented, “you’re really going to wear that bowling ball?” I put a couple of gels along with some mangos in the front pocket and committed myself to drinking the pack dry and eating all the food before I reached the next aid station. This bowling ball was going to be my lifeline.

By 50 miles I was feeling better physically, and felt mentally rejuvenated when I was able to pass Mark and learned that Valmir had dropped. I was now in 4th place. I was so pleased with my management plan that I filled the bowling ball up again and committed to drinking it dry over the next 6-mile leg.

I find that the first 60 miles of a 100 miler are the hardest. The end seems so far away. Things hurt. Self-doubt creeps into my head. But, from about 60 on it becomes a simple countdown and the miles and the time seem to go quickly. During almost every section I had a little boost. At mile 62, I caught up with Eric and moved into third place. At mile 85 I was surprised to see Michael sitting at the aid station. I suspected he was dehydrated and bonked like I had been earlier in the day. I knew that I possibly had 3-4 miles of opportunity to gain time on him before he fully rebounded. I went out of the aid station hard knowing that if I could get a few minutes lead on him I could possibly place second.

I finished in 16:16. While I failed to set a 100-mile PR, the time was fast enough to place second and I walked away with $900 in prize money (which is a first for me). And, 16:16 is good enough to count as the 5th all-time fastest 100-mile trail time for an old goat (50+).

Top Male Finishers
Dave James 15:57
Jay Aldous 16:16
Michael Owen 16:26
Mark Godale 16:46

Top Female Finishers
Connie Garner 19:01
Rachael Nypaver 19:36
Starshi Blackford 20:17
Christi Tokarz 21:08

Full 2011 Burning River 100 results can be found at http://www.ultralive.net/br100/webcast.php

This was the hardest race I have ever run. Clearly the weather was difficult for me. And, I think it was hard for others as well given the 50% drop rate (280 starters – 143 finishers). Parts of the course are on roads or towpaths. I have a hard time running well on the flats and find it difficult to get into the zone. The volunteer at the 92 mile aid station was surprised when I almost yelled at him “I’d rather have a hill” in response to his gleeful proclamation that “the next three miles are flat.” Maybe in the future I’d best stick close to home - where the air is dry and the hills are big!

A big thanks to RD Joe Jurczyk and the more than 400 volunteers that make this one of the best organized 100 milers. Kudos for a race well run!

Utah Triple Crown FKT

2011-07-17T08:37:00.028-06:00

This time last summer, Christian, Erik, Greg, Peter and I were on a long Saturday run and Christian began describing a run that had been reading about, the Utah Triple Crown. He went on to describe how Craig Lloyd linked together Utah’s three tallest peaks into a 29-mile run. We all agreed that it sounded like a potentially grand adventure and we added the Utah Triple Crown to our list of “to do” runs.

On July 16^th, Peter, Erik, and I had a “window” where nobody was racing, working or had family obligations. We were off to the Uintas! Our plan was to follow Craig’s route.

We drove to the Henrys Fork Campground the night before and camped under a full moon. Our plan was to be on the trail at first light. By the time we had broken camp, fueled ourselves and completed all requisite pre-running business (Don Pedro)– it was 6:21 am. We were off on our grand adventure.

Erik and Jay at the trailhead ready to go

The first milestone of the route, Elkhorn Crossing, is at 5.3 miles. Craig reached Elkhorn in 1:02. Somehow we missed the turnoff and ran a half-mile or so towards Sawmill Lake before realizing our error. After consulting the map, It was then back to Elkhorn Crossing where we walked the stream bank looking for a safe place to cross. The heavy runoff this year had washed away the bridge. The swift current made crossing a dangerous challenge. I began an attempt to cross and turned back to the bank when I became doubtful I could keep my feet underneath me. The river rock was slick and the current was strong. Erik then tried and made it successfully across. Peter crossed and I had no choice… I made it! Our time to Elk Crossing was 1 hour 3 minutes, before the wrong turn and 1 hour 26 minutes before our cold wet asses were across the "creek".

Trail looking at the peaks after Elkhorn crossing

The run along Henrys Fork was spectacular. First light was casting a spotlight on a variety of flowers. A rather large bull elk ran across the trail in front of us. Splashing through intermittent streams and bogs was invigorating. Good company in a spectacular environment made for a wonderful morning.

Basin between Gilbert and Gunsight Peak

We reached Dollar Lake and turned east to begin the climb up to the first of the three peaks that comprise the Triple Crown; Mount Gilbert (13,446). We stopped several times to discuss how we thought Craig had approached the peak and what constituted the best route. After climbing up the ridge and reaching a meadow I erroneously began to lead the group towards Gunsight Peak. As we reached the base of the peak we realized our mistake and turned back and began the climb to Mount Gilbert to the Northeast. As we climbed Gilbert strong gusts of wind made climbing the rocks difficult. The wind was causing my eyes to water and I was having trouble seeing. Intermittent gusts would knock us sideways; requiring quick rethinking where feet and hands would next make contact. This was not a place to have a fall!

We reached the top of Gilbert in 3:10, 10 minutes behind Craig’s pace. We quickly took some pictures and hurried down to get out of the wind AND try and make up lost time.

Peter and Erik on Gilbert Peak

Gunsight Peak

On top of Gunsight Peak, Jay and Erik study the route to Kings Peak

Looking back at Gunsight Peak from Gunsight Pass (the photo doesn't do much to show the difficulty of the descent)

We next climbed Gunsight Peak and began the treacherous descent to Gunsight Pass. Staying on one’s feet was a challenge and we took several spills on our way down. What the F#&* was Craig thinking?? We reached Gunsight Pass at 4:23, we made up a little time and were now just five minutes behind Craig’s pace.

From Gunsight we climbed up the cutoff trail towards Anderson Pass. We filled up with water from an impromptu spring in the middle of a snow field and worked our way across the meadow beneath Kings Peak (13,528), our next climb and the second peak of the Triple Crown. There were several small snowfields on the climb. We were hopeful that climbing up the snow would be faster than climbing over the rocks. Wrong! The snow was soft and was melting from beneath causing us to drop through to our knees and sometimes hips. We laughed at Peter as he literally had to roll and crawl serpentine style off the snow as each step he was dropping to his upper thighs. We reached the top at 5:40, exactly on pace with Craig.

Erik and Jay on Kings Peak

South Kings Peak

After some quick pictures and a snack we were off to our third and final peak, South Kings Peak (13,512). Moving across the loose boulders was slow, occasionally large rocks would tip or move under foot challenging balance and control. More than a few scrapes were had navigating the rock fields. All we wanted to do was run (very little of the route had been runable since the climb to Mount Gilbert). We were cursing the poles we had brought which were of almost no use. We needed our hands to provide stability over the large rocks. There was an unspoken unease about how we would descend from the peak given the poor quality of the snow. We summited South Kings Peak at 6:08, we were now 15 minutes ahead of Craig.

Moments before we stood on top of the ridge negotiating the best route - which happened to be straight down

Looking back at the snow field (right side of photo) we descended. It is as steep as it looks.

We followed what we understood Craig’s route to be, glissading downward from the saddle between Kings and South Kings Peaks. The snow quality was better than we anticipated and we had a nice run/slide off the saddle. We then worked our way towards a saddle in the ridge dropping to the east of Kings Peak. As we crested the saddle there was silence among us. We were in a spot with no great options. A tricky traverse along a cliff band that would maintain enough elevation to reach the meadow below Anderson Pass. Or, an extremely STEEP glissade down into Painter Basin. We opted for the glissade. After many pucker moments, frozen hands, and snow compacted into a variety of orifices we made it to the bottom.

From this vantage we could see Craig’s route. He had traversed to the north and had come down a nice (as a matter of perspective at this point) snowfield underneath Kings that allowed him to cross the meadow below Andersons Pass to Gunsight Pass. We realized we made a big mistake and began to work our way towards the trail in Painter Basin that would ultimately take us back to Gunsight Pass. After several more small snow fields and navigating through marsh and brush we found a trail that took us to the climb back to Gunsight Pass. We were discouraged and beating ourselves up for our navigational mistake.

We reached Gunsight Pass in 7:46. Eighteen minutes behind Craig’s pace. We quickly did the math and realized that if we were able to keep up a moderately brisk pace over the last 10 miles we would be able to finish under Craig’s time of 9:41. After a creaky half-mile or so to get the legs used to running again, we all got into the zone. It felt good to be able to run. In fact, it was fun to be able to run. We crossed the stream at Elkhorn without event and continued to make good time back to the trailhead. We reached Henrys Fork Trailhead in 9:21, 20 minutes under the previous FKT.

At the car ready for a milkshake

We took off our shoes, soaked in the stream and shared our respect for Craig. This was a tough route! That he studied and knew the terrain well enough to develop this route was impressive. That he had completed it alone was ballsy. His solo effort is a remarkable achievement (follow this link to read his full report).

As we drove back to Salt Lake we recounted the day; laughing about our navigational errors, our fine dining at Don Pedro, and the absurd route, but oohed and aahed over the stunning vistas and scenery we had experienced. Yes, it was a grand adventure!

Hardrock 100 Race Report - 2011

2011-07-14T22:04:00.000-06:00

The 2011 Hardrock Endurance Run wasn't pretty and it was not the race I had planned on having but I finished and that was the number one goal heading in.

The short version: With support from my amazing wife and family, plus my good friends Greg and Marge, I recorded my first Hardrock 100 finish in a time of 37 hours 38 mins.

See all of Greg's pictures from the race on Flickr.

With all the nervous anticipation I had, the race couldn't begin soon enough for me. Once we started up the trail my nerves truly calmed and I broke off into a light jog along with the other 140 runners. The opening few miles were pretty uneventful as we slowly climbed up King Solomon mountain. At the top of Dives Little Giant we were rewarded with our first sunrise of the race and a view to the other side of the canyon. A quick descent of 2,000' to Cunningham at mile 9 and I was able to grab a few supplies and see my family and friends for the last time until mile 42. According to my watch I was about 10 mins ahead of schedule. I took note and dropped my pace just a bit as I caught up to Ryan Cooper.

Feeling good at Cunningham Aid Station

L-R, Betsy, Cheryl and Mindy, Support crew extraordinaire.

The next 20 miles felt like I was in cruise control as I just made sure I was relaxed and calm. The heat of the day was coming on and I turned my focus to staying on top of my hydration and calories. Soon I was on the cruiser descent into Sherman which reminded me of some of my favorite trails in the Wasatch. I took my time at Sherman (mile 29) and made sure I had plenty of supplies for the long climb up Handies Peak. The road leading to the trail up Handies is very runnable and like a fool that's what I did. Even though I felt fine the heat was getting more intense and I was becoming dehydrated.

I hit the wall on the first steep pitch in the trees. It suddenly felt as though my head would explode and my stomach would erupt. Over the years I've had plenty of issues with this sort of thing but for some reason it came on much faster this time. Maybe it was the altitude or maybe it was a lack of respect for Hardrock. Either way I knew I was in trouble. I sat down on a log and collected myself. Every runner that passed by offered their help, but I had everything I needed, I just couldn't keep it down. I finally decided to purge my stomach contents and ride the euphoria as long as possible. Immediately I started hiking strongly, fixing my gaze on the 14,000' peak in front of me. Forty-five minutes later I was walking, which quickly turned into a stumble and then I had to sit down again. My thoughts grew dark as I struggled to walk 50 steps at a time. On the upper steep sections I could only manage 10 steps at time except when I was within striking distance of the summit, where I made a big push of 60 steps or so and promptly puked on the peak.

Ben Corrales, a fellow runner and friend from Utah, had passed me just before the peak and wished me well. I could see him running off the peak as I contemplated rolling off the edge. Then I noticed someone walking up the ridge toward me, it was Shane Martin another runner from Utah. He had come down to pace Ben but saw me struggling and came over to help. Shane encouraged me all the way down to Grouse and I was happy for his help but I had made up my mind, I was going to quit.

Feeling rather grim at Grouse Gulch aid station

Initially Betsy and Greg wouldn't even let me talk as they had devised a plan prior to my arrival. Later, they politely listened as I tried to explain how it was hopeless and how the altitude was killing me. But all the while they were pushing soup and broth into my lap and encouraging me to drink it. Slowly I came around and after a little over an hour I stood up to leave and start up the long road toward Engineer Pass. I was still uncertain I could finish, the climb up Handies Peak, as well as the descent, had left me in the darkest place I can ever remember during a race.

This is the reset button I told myself, time for a resurrection. Now I turned my focus to the road directly in front of me and getting to the town of Ouray at mile 56. I could see many runners with their pacers in front of me as the daylight started to fade but I could not see the top of the pass located just below 13,000'. Just then the sky lit up with a bolt of lightning followed by a massive thunderclap, the temperature dropped and the rain began to pour down. I began to feel sorry for myself and dark thoughts started swirling around in my head, then I realized I could be in control if I wanted to be. It was time to rally. I didn't exactly start running but I began to hike with a purpose and soon I was passing other runners. Soon I hit the top of the pass, the wind was howling and I was very cold, but the rain had stopped as I let gravity do it's thing on the way down. The descent to the remote Engineer aid station at mile 49 was more of a controlled fall than a run. All the rain had left the big meadows as slippery as the snow we had passed through at the top. I downed some soup and continued the descent to Ouray, anxious to have Greg's company for the remainder of the race.

The Ouray aid station wasn't exactly a vibrant place at 1am, so I downed some more soup and hit the trail with Greg. On the climb up to Box Canyon we had a bat dive bomb us a couple of times in the tunnel, flying directly into the beam of the headlamp which was really weird. I ran small sections of the Camp Bird road on the way to Governors Basin but mostly stuck with a steady hike as I was well aware of what was waiting for us after the Governor Basin aid station. More soup at the aid station and we began the steep hike up to Virginius Pass, site of the most unique aid station in the race, Kroger's Canteen.

Roch Horton in the center, I'm sitting on the right at Kroger's Canteen

Greg and I passed a couple of runners as we made our way into the upper basin. I was feeling good as we hit the first big patches of snow and noticed the dark outline of the mountains against the star filled sky. The basin was so full of snow that I had a hard time recognizing the three distinct pitches leading to the pass. Finally, after climbing the second pitch the pass came into view. The scene resembled something out of a mountaineering film with all the snow and headlamps dotting the way up. Then the sun started to just come up and provide just enough light to illuminate the entire basin. The scene was very surreal. Next thing I knew I was sitting next to Betsy Nye enjoying a pirogi given to me by the infamous Roch Horton. "4,500 feet down to Telluride, don't trash your quads and enjoy the rest of your run" were the words I left with from Roch as I skied down the scree field off the pass.

The descent to Telluride was smooth as I passed a few more runners. I was grateful that I could still run downhill since the ups were feeling really slow to me. Betsy was waiting for us in Telluride at mile 73 and I took the opportunity to change my shirt and socks. I bid her farewell to start the big climb up the re-routed section of the course into Bridal Veil basin. Before race day I scoffed at the extra 2 miles this section would add on to the race, but I wasn't scoffing at the extra distance now. Once we got up in to the basin we could see the true size of it and it just kept going and going. This prompted me to start a new game called "Guess that pass". From here on Greg and I would guess which pass it was we would be going over. I usually guessed the closest one and I'm quite sure I was always wrong.

Slowly making my way up into Bridal Veil Basin

Impromptu aid station stop in Bridal Veil Basin

Oscar's Pass was the name of our next high point and I remember Karl Meltzer telling me how awful the top of the descent to Chapman was. Karl was right. The rocky descent was an ankle breaker and I took my time until the rocks relented and I could run again.

Heading off Oscar's Pass on the rocky descent, Grant Swamp Pass in the distance

Next up we pulled into Chapman at mile 82 where I chatted with Ryan Burch and his wife while they waited for their friend. Greg and I stocked up for the long haul up Grant Swamp Pass and down the KT aid station at mile 89. Chapman represented the beginning of the end. There were now less than 20 miles to the finish. The climb up to Grant Swamp became a real slog. By the time I hit the final pitch I was moving pretty slowly, as I was most the time above 12,000'. The lack of oxygen started giving me low grade headaches and made me feel like my energy was really low. Thankfully my legs still felt good, but I just could not summon a consistent hike out of them.

Greg's self portrait with Grant Swamp Pass in the background

Me on the descent side of Grant Swamp, Island Lake in the background

The final pitch up to Grant Swamp Pass is just about the cruelest thing I have ever seen in a race. Each footstep would sink into the scree and if it didn't slide backward I would celebrate. I was completely stoked to see Island Lake on the other side and told Greg how he needed to take a picture. "No time" he replied and pointed to the dark clouds building behind Grant Peak. I began to shuffle down off the pass and felt the first couple of raindrops. I stopped to put on my jacket and just then the air around us sizzled with a the crack of a lightning bolt. I turned and ran faster than I ever thought was possible, looking for the trees. The lightning and hail kept me motivated as I was breathing harder than I had in nearly 24 hours.

Finally we came to the bottom edge of the trees and the last bit of cover. I knew the Kamm Traverse was very exposed and with all the lightning I told Greg I wanted to wait it out. He agreed, but after 10 minutes or so we were shivering uncontrollably and decided we needed to run to keep hypothermia at bay. A mile or so later we were at the KT aid station as the rain finally stopped. Much to my surprise Ben and Shane were there warming up so I suggested we tackle the last 11 miles together. Everyone agreed, and after downing the best soup of the whole race we were off.

Almost immediately we had to cross the upper Mineral Creek which is normally quite a bit lower. However, with the recent storm and high snow it was waist deep and I struggled to keep my feet underneath me. The next climb went well and I felt like I was finally full of energy again so I pushed a little harder to get to the pass. I should have known better. We still had a cross-country route to climb up to a ridge that could not be seen. Again, cruel. I finally topped out and just kept it moving as we made note of another storm bearing down on us.

First the rain came down followed by...you guessed it; the hail stones. Once again I was descending much faster than I thought I was capable of. My quads were fried. The previous descent had sapped all my strength. I focused on keeping it upright and looking for the trees where the Putnam aid station was located.

On the final ascent of the race

The rain starts coming down on the descent to Putnam aid station

Finally a big yellow tent appeared and we climbed inside seeking shelter from the hailstorm outside. Three aid station volunteers along with Blake Wood and his daughter were inside. The four of us joined them as we waited for the storm to relent. Soon four more joined us inside. I was growing frustrated since we were so close but I was unwilling to risk hypothermia for a finish. About 30 minutes after reaching the aid station the hail finally turned to rain and we left.

We made quick work of the descent as we picked up Brian Beckstead who had hiked up to meet us (another Utah runner who had paced Ben earlier in the race). Finally we arrived at the final river crossing. First I watched Ben get across Mineral Creek then I followed. I was a bit nervous but managed to keep my feet underneath me as the swift current pulled at my legs. Ben and I took off running since we knew Greg and Shane would catch up to us. I fell into a trance and tried to fight off the emotion that was welling up inside of me.

The final approach to the finish, L-R Shane, Ben, Christian

The final mile or so was a blur as my mind flashed over the previous 37 hours. Ben and I ran up the final chute together and kissed the fabled rock. And just like that it was over. The longest (time wise) and hardest journey I've ever done. Out of 140 starters there were only 80 finishers, one of the highest attrition rates ever for the race. No doubt about it, I would not have finished without the support of my ever supportive wife Betsy, my kids Mason and Paige, as well as my good friend and pacer Greg Norrander.

HAPPY FIVE-O

2011-07-07T06:21:00.006-06:00

Hardrock Prep

2011-07-05T15:58:00.000-06:00

Back in 2009 I left Salt Lake City bound for Silverton and the Hardrock 100 while sitting at number 6 on the waitlist. I made it to Silverton but not off the the waitlist. That may have been a blessing in disguise as I had an incredible experience pacing Scott Jaime that year and soaking in the atmosphere.

This year I found out in February that without a doubt I was in. My name was one of the lucky few drawn in the lottery and started training with a new found purpose (and pretty much stopped skiing during a record snow season). I even made plans to head down two weeks early to acclimate and check out the course.
About this same time we decided to put our house up for sale. I must admit I was a little nervous about selling the house with Hardrock looming but I figured the chances of an overlap were slim. Well, it turns out I should have been in Vegas all spring as anything to do with a lottery or slim chances has paid off. Our house is sold and we close on July 11th. Hardrock starts on the 8th. That being said, my taper has included the right amount of running and more than the normal amount of upper body/back work (thanks to all the help we've received over the last few weeks, it was invaluable). Another casualty of the house being sold was the early trip to the San Juans. Looks like it will be show and go for me. Currently the nerves are running a bit high and I've been battling a good case of self doubt but as my good friend and Hardrock pacer has told me, I am my own worst enemy.

Thanks to my friends the "training" has been a ton of fun this spring. From running out in the west desert to trudging through mud and knee deep streams to glissading from the top of the Wasatch, without their help I wouldn't be in the best running shape of my life. Thanks guys. Here's some evidence of the ~~training~~ fun from the last month or so...See ya after Hardrock!

Happy 4th of July

2011-07-03T21:44:00.003-06:00

While I do not choose to drink alcoholic beverages, and I am definitely not endorsing Pabst Blue Ribbon (from what I hear, I'm not sure anyone would!), I think we can all learn a thing or two about patriotism in the following video. Happy 4th of July and God Bless America!!