Monday, July 9, 2012

Rock Roll and Run


Bells at 4:20 am.  Eat.  Go the bathroom as many times as possible.  And then I head off to the park, on a bike, w/ a backpack full of triathlon gear.  Set up my transition area.  Try to go to the bathroom some more.  Chat w/ folks.  And then make the half mile barefoot walk down to the start.  



You wait in line.  You’re not nervous.  You just wait.  You’re just ready to get going.  You have family and friends watching you.  Even though it’s a “sprint” you still need to “hold back”.  It’s far too hot to wear a wetsuit.  I mean…doable but unnecessary.  You ditched the idea weeks ago, w/ how hot it’s been.  So that would make your already pathetic swim, abysmal.  But…you dog paddled it in.  You controlled your breathing and just took it nice and easy.  Once out of the water…it was time to party. 

You ran to transition.  Changed in a minute and some change.  Ran the bike out of transition and hopped on.  The plan was to peddle hard for a mile or so.  Slow down enough to take in some nutrition.  And then hammer.  And you stuck to your plan w/out fault.  Once you took down a gel and some Nuun, you immediately felt better and passed EVERYONE w/in sight.  Now we’re not talking Tour De France pace, but I was moving through time and space at a fast speed.   Made it back to T2.  Changed shoes and exchanged the helmet for a hat and took off running.  You wanted to sprint but you could tell that was not happening.  After a couple minutes, you slowed down.  Caught your  breath.  It was 95 degrees at 8 am and you felt every degree.  You grabbed a water at an aid station (something you weren’t planning to do), slugged it down and took (what felt like) a moderate pace.  You knew there was a big ol hill waiting for you only a few blocks away.  When you got there, you just looked down at the ground (and not the top of the hill) and moved steadily ahead.  When you got to the top, you’re friends were there, yelling and cheering.  It gave you a boost and set you off.  The majority of the run ahead of you was downhill.  So you tried to pick it up.  It felt slow to you.  Your legs just weren’t turning over.  You mostly attributed it to the heat, rather than the bike ride.  It felt like you were running 8:30 miles (you found out you averaged 6:24 miles) so you just decided to do what you could and clunk your way to the finish.  The distance is never a problem for you.  You just don’t do enough speed work and it hurts.  Waah.  You’d rather do a 50 miler and moderate pace than a sprint triathlon at balls out pace.  But you made it.  You came across the finish line with a smile.  Your family was there and you wound up 11th overall.  Not bad for not having done a triathlon in ten months.  Your friends put this little triathlon on, and it just feels like home.  The volunteers and crowd support make it all worth while.  You talked w/ people afterwards.  You ate, when your stomach allowed.  And then you rushed off to work :)





Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Kettle Moraine 100


When I first signed up for the Kettle Moraine 100, I was injured.  I had just come from the doctor’s office and was feeling optimistic about the Achilles and about racing in a month or so.  The doctor told me I could bike as much as I wanted and the injury would work itself out, as long as I wasn’t running.  I biked a hundred and fifty miles in a week or so and it made it worse.  I was out for a few more weeks b/f desperately getting a shot of cortisone.  I hadn’t run in seven weeks.  I hadn’t run more than forty consecutive miles all year.  So if I was going to do this race, it was going to be about 35% physical and 65% mental. 

To run with no mind / is how I wanted to run the whole thing.  I didn’t want to think about mileage.  It's impossible to wrap your head around running a hundred miles.  I didn’t want to think about time I was going to be spending on the trail.  I didn’t want to think about the unknown.  B/c these are the things that scare me.  I was about to spend the day (and night) doing what I love…I was just going to be doing it longer than I ever had b/f. 

I started off at a modest pace.  I planned to run all of the first ten miles and then start to back off and power-hike some of the uphills, to conserve energy.  I chatted w/ some folks.  Found Jason Penticoff and Ryan Dexter and fell in w/ them for quite a few miles.  It’s a solid fact that running w/ someone makes the miles click by faster.  I really enjoy running by myself but when you’re running a hundred miles, you should run w/ some folks to put some miles in the bank. 

Ryan Dexter is a multiple course record holder and has done two-hundred mile races!  He’s a tough dude.  He said he was just there for fun and not to compete but he seemed to be in a bigger hurry at aid stations than Jason and I.  It was cool to watch him constantly moving and an honor to run w/ him. 

I somehow lost the guys and ran it in to the Scuppernong aid station by myself.  It was a long stretch and I just wanted to get there and start making my way back.  It’s such a relief to come into an aid and have Brother John there w/ full water bottles and ready to help w/ whatever you need.  He’ll get you some Tums, he’ll Vaseline your feet, he’d take the shirt off his back if you needed him to.  I’m always glad to have him in my corner.  He takes crewing very seriously and somehow has the ability to make you feel extremely peaceful.  About yourself and about everything.

I caught up w/ Jason who was struggling and needed some positive talk to keep him moving.  I ran w/ him all the way back through the hot meadows which put a hurtin on both of us.  It’s a long fifteen mile stretch w/ no shade and nothing but the sun beating down on you.  We both needed a break after that and hiked for a while through the woods to let our heart rates recover and core temperatures come down.  It cost us a pretty good deal of time and we both got passed by other runners multiple times.  It was a pretty low point and probably the lowest point of the day.  We were both suffering.  Moving forward was a real struggle and I was trying NOT to think about the miles ahead of me.  When we made it to the aid station, my crew was worried and commented that I’d slowed down some.  I let them know that everything was under control and I just needed a little break if I was going to be running all night.  The break helped a lot and pretty soon I was back to feeling normal.  Jason was having a hard time too but we both came back from the dead after that checkpoint and pretty much crushed the next ten miles.  We caught back up to where we had previously been.  That ten mile stretch was probably the best part of the day.  The two of us weren’t running.  We were racing and we passed tons of people and just destroyed it.  It felt so perfect. 



Back from the dead!  This was after a serious low point.


I ended up running by myself back to the Nordic aid station.  It was very uplifting to get there and have my entire crew finally there together, to have a pacer ready to run w/ me, to have my family that surprised me and traveled from home to see me for about ten minutes at a checkpoint.  I knew I could have called it a day right then and there.  100 kilometers is a pretty good day.  But I never considered it.  Not w/ all the support I had there.  I forced some food down and changed clothes and took off with my pacer.  I’d never run w/ Marty KC b/f but I knew he’d get me to the finish.  I knew he was mentally tough and yet sensitive to my needs.  What I didn’t know is that he knew the trails we were going to be running in the dark like the back of his hand.  He knew when the technical parts were coming up, he knew when the long climbs were coming up and he knew how to talk me into eating when I didn’t feel like it.  There’s no doubt in my mind there wasn’t a better pacer fit for me on that day in the entire world.  His knowledge and expertise were absolutely perfect.  
 
 Time slipped away.  There was no more time.  It was only light or dark.  Right now it was dark.  We put our headlamps on and ran.  We power hiked the ups and ran the rest.  We took little breaks.  At one of the aids, Brother John told me I only had a marathon to go.  And for some reason, this was very comforting to me.  That was when I knew I was going to complete a hundred miles.  Even if I walked the rest, I would probably finish before the thirty hour cutoff.  But I wasn’t walking.  I always wondered how I would feel at eighty miles into a hundred mile race.  But I felt good.  I was still running.  I was still thinking clearly.  I never had any serious doubts.  Even when my right foot began to give me some grief, I knew I wasn’t going to quit.  I hobbled into the HWY 12 aid station and took some ibuprofen and my crew taped my ankle up and sent me on my way.  It helped a lot.  My confidence began to grow.  I knew I would finish.  I knew it.  I felt like I was getting stronger at that very moment.  I felt like I was getting taller, broader.  Then we ran some more, into the middle of the woods, into the middle of the night. 

                                                About to get the ankle taped up.  Mile 80.  1 am.


Tawnya was going to run the last seven miles in with me.  Marty had done such a good job getting me to mile ninety-three that I was almost afraid to run w/ anyone else.  But her patience, knowledge and energy were perfect.  I was having trouble w/ the uphills AND the downhills at this point.  She was patient and encouraged me on the flats.  As we ran the last two miles in I realized I’ve never felt so good about feeling so much pain.  My legs and my entire body were pretty much destroyed.  But I could finally say it.  One hundred miles.  The sun was just about to come up.  It couldn’t have been more beautiful.  When we saw the finish line, she said / Go get it / and I did.  I was surged w/ energy and felt fantastic.  My entire crew was there to greet me and they cheered like crazy.  These people had stayed up all night long to make sure I met my goal.  They were all so positive and I know for a fact I couldn’t have done it w/out them. 



Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Rockford Marathon



Rockford Marathon day.  After not running for seven weeks, you didn’t know what to expect.  You’d signed up last minute and decided to use this as a training run to see where you were at and to gauge the injury.  You were pretty confident you could get the thing done, you just didn’t know what kind of time you could pull off.  The forecast was hot, humid and possibly storms.  You had a few friends doing it as well.  Sounded like a party…


Just like usual, you took off too fast.  You ran three or four miles and realized you were doing 6:45’s.  You needed to slow down.  W/ the heat and humidity, you wouldn’t be able to hold that forever.  You backed off a bit and tried to find a decent rhythm that would suit you well for another 22 miles or so. 

A couple of things you noticed while running (not to be a Debbie Downer, but…)
1.  You don’t like running roads.  It’s not nearly as forgiving as the trails. 
2.  You don’t like the marathon distance.  You have to run so fast and you can’t walk the uphills.
3.  There was almost no shade.  Trail runs are full of shade, making a hot and humid day more manageable. 
4.  It was HOT!


It’s amazing how much time you have to think while running for three and a half hours.  You thought about your family.  You thought about your future.  You thought about your injury over the past couple of months.  You thought about how grateful you are to be back running.  You thought about your friends.  You thought about the mountains.  You thought about her.  You thought about why you were doing this.  Why?  And you decided that you must enjoy suffering.  Suffering somehow makes you a better person.  You love to be on the move while sweating and being out in the sun.  You love racing.  But suffering teaches you who you are and what you are really all about.  And that teaches you more than anything.  If you can’t figure out your problems in the time it takes to run a marathon, you aren’t going to find any answers. 

So there was the emergency bathroom stop at mile 10.  There was the shoe coming untied at 13 and almost tripping.  There was the heat that kept telling you to stop, walk the hills, take a little break.  But something just a little deeper inside of you kept telling yourself to push.  Push farther.  Don’t stop and walk just yet.  Push.  Move.  Keep on keeping on.  Oh, and there were your friends and crew that drove from aid station to aid station and may or may not have flashed you.  For motivation purposes only, of course.  



Either way, the day was a success.  You finished the race virtually injury free and with a smile on your face.  You were ecstatic.  You ended up getting a little dizzy afterwards but kept it together.  You didn’t puke afterwards like you did at Ironman last year.  You cheered a few more of your friends in and just finishing on a hot day like that is an accomplishment.  And then you had to rush home and get to work.  You may have been a half hour late but you did it.  Goals accomplished.  And now…on to bigger things…



Monday, May 21, 2012

5/14-5/19


5/19/12  Saturday 8:33p
Bike 3 miles to work and 2 to the grocery store. 
Rest. 



5/18/12  Friday 11:59p
Today you did an easy 10 kilometers on the trail.  It felt like heaven.  Everything is in order for you to try the Rockford marathon on Sunday.
At night, you go to the fights in Madison w/ a few friends.  The National Guard put on some fights (Fight me MMA).  They were by far the worst fights you’ve ever seen.  The fight promoter said something to the effect of / We don’t wanna see a couple of sweaty guys rolling around on the ground, we wanna see them fight! / --so every time the fight went to the ground, they stood them up.  It was terrible.  But the tickets were free and you still had a blast, getting out of town for the night…




5/17/12  Thursday  8:59p
Rest day from running.
3 mile commute.
15 minutes worth of planks w/ the boss at work.
Today you met Dusty Olson, the guy who inspired Scott Jurek to start running (and gave him the nickname Jurker (which he said began as Jurk-off)).  He was a very cool guy w/ tons of good stories.  He has crewed for Scott during nearly all of his huge adventures.  And he hooked you up w/ three pair of Scott running shoes.  What a cool day!
You also signed up (last minute) for the Rockford marathon.  You won’t race it, you’ll just run it as a training run.




5/16/12  Wednesday 7:37p
Day off from work today and the foot is comin around!
14 miles on moderate trails.
2100 yards (approximately)  across Lake Ripley and back.
Solid adventure day w/ a friend.  After all the exercise, you went to Cam-Rock Sports and CafĂ©.  What a cool place.  Great menu and ambiance, coffee, bike rentals, 100 different beers, soon to be kayak and canoe rentals w/ shuttle services to pick you up, Frisbee golf, cool employees.  What a cool little shop!  They even let the two of you bring your dogs in and hang w/ the black lab in the back while you ate!




5/15/12  Tuesday  11:04p

No real exercise today.  Rest day.  Although you did bike 3 miles to and from work on the fixie and did 10 minutes worth of planks w/ the boss at work.  1 minute up, 1 minute rest.




5/14/12  Monday  9:52p

Bike 3 mile commute.
5 min plank.
Weights for half hour.
Run three. 

You are just coming back from the injury and starting to incorporate some small runs.  The Achilles was a little fussy tonight, probably d/t running 10k yesterday morning.  You’d better take tomorrow off from running.




Friday, April 20, 2012

bummer dude


My season has not started out the way that I intended.  Not at all.  I hoped to have my first hundred miler under my belt by now.  Unfortunately that was not in the cards for me.  I trained hard for the McNaughton 100 miler all winter but suffered an Achilles injury three weeks b/f the race.  Achilles Tenosynovitis.  I threw everything but the kitchen sink at it in the weeks prior to the race in hopes of healing it up in time.  Acupuncture, massage, ice, compression, kt tape, reiki, lemongrass oil, Biofreeze, rest, elevation, Udo’s oil, the list goes on.  Any advice people gave me, I tried.  I wanted that race SO bad.  But…we make plans and God laughs.  I’ll probably never know why I wasn’t meant to run that race.  I guess the biggest thing now is healing up and being able to run this season.  My next race is the Ice Age 50 and it’s only a couple of weeks away.  I haven’t run in a month.  I’ve been unable to compete in two races that I was signed up for so far this year.

I’m learning a lot by not being able to run.  I’m learning patience and I’m learning to let go of the ego.  I’m reminded how unimportant running races really are.  I put so much time and energy into something that really doesn’t matter in the broad scope of things.  But as coach Bowerman once said, and I’m paraphrasing here, “If you can find meaning in something as arbitrary as running, maybe you can find meaning in something as arbitrary as life.” 

Not being able to do something you love and something that you are passionate about and something that you normally do everyday leaves you w/ a lot of time.  I’ve been writing a bit more.  Reading a bit more.  I’ve got a clean house most days now.  I’ve been swimming, doing jiu-jitsu and lifting weights to keep my fitness level up.  Roxy has too much energy and I get lonely w/out running to keep me company.  I live by myself and I don’t have cable tv or internet at my house b/c I am normally training like a madman.  So, while my friends are all working hard for their upcoming events, I’m catching up on movies I didn’t have time to watch last year.  The break is nice and probably essential to my life.  It’s just taken a period of adjustment.  This is part of the game.  All athletes go through it.  It could be worse.  I’m keeping my head up and being optimistic.  Just learning how to keep my head up and be optimistic as I go…