Feeling lucky

Something amazing happened this week: Gaby was selected as a Grand Prize winner for JetBlue’s Boston Marathon Extra Mile Contest.  Last month she submitted an essay for entry into the contest and won a free 2011 Boston Marathon registration entry, two round trip tickets (on JetBlue, of course) and two nights hotel accommodations.  Very nice!  (I wonder who she will take with her?)   2009’s Chicago marathon time stood as her qualifier so now the only thing that stands in the way is crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s on the paperwork JetBlue emailed her.  Last April Gaby’s Boston Marathon aspirations ground to a halt at mile 18 courtesy of insufferable IT band pain.  I witnessed the entire meltdown; it wasn’t pretty.  As a matter of fact, it was very sad.  I am so happy she now has this opportunity to return to the Boston Marathon.  Thank you, JetBlue!  Let’s just hope she is recovered from the Bull Run Run 50 mile nine days prior.

Speaking of recovery, a quick update on the running progression, which I am proud to report.  Just finished up the most solid week of training so far in 2011.  Since Monday I logged 106 miles, including an impromptu fun run/fat ass 50k yesterday, with 6k+ feet of climbing, along the exceedingly technical trails of the Massanutten Mountains, then cherry-topped the week this morning with a nice tempo run in the surprisingly turn-y St. Patty’s 8k in downtown D.C.  Therefore, as of this week, my training regimen, I figure, has been elevated beyond base building.  Good thing, too, since that is about where I want to be at this point leading up to May.  I also noticed a familiar feeling after yesterday’s run in the mountains: I’m getting back a little of what I experienced last year before and during the Slam.  Meaning, recovery time is shortening rapidly.  Last weekend’s first-run-in-the-mountains-since-November left my quads unhappy for days but immediately after yesterday’s run , preceded by a before-sunrise 20 miler on Friday, my quads felt solid; barely sore, even.  Then as the run ended I felt fresh still and easily could have kept running for several more hours.  This is good news.

Another bit of good news: Tuesday I depart for New Zealand and am thrilled for the opportunity to experience a new country, culture and demographic of people I have yet to know.  I’ll be visiting Auckland and Queenstown, and the outer countryside of each city.  A quick scan of Google Earth reveals excellent mountain running options only two city blocks from our hotel in Queenstown.  Gee, I wonder where I’ll be watching the sunrise each morning?  I’ll see about internet access and try to post a few pictures on the ol’ blog from down under.

Ultra Running in Virginia

The March issue of UltraRunning Magazine is a good one.  It is loaded with all sorts of fun articles to read and 2010 statistics to admire.  One particular 2010 statistic I am fond of is Virginia's 2nd placement in terms of the number of ultra race completions by runners- 2,818.  California is way out in front with 8,949.  The next state is Texas with 1,933, still far below Virginia.  Each state's number obviously does not include Fat Ass events and runs of the sort (hell, if it did the VHTRC events alone would eclipse California's staggering number) but it is impressive to see Virginia hold a confident 2nd.  In fact, I have heard that Virginia is always 2nd in this ranking, next to California, but can't back that up.  (Anyone?)

This statistic by itself, on paper, seems remarkable but not when you consider the many great runners who hail from Virginia, the available terrain, history of ultra running and racing in the state and- best of all- it's welcoming culture to new comers.  When I close my eyes and imagine running pristine mountain ridgelines or up green valleys I often assume I'm somewhere out west in Colorado, Utah or the Sierras.  Oddly enough, what even prompts these reoccurring day dreams are the bountiful memories I have running pristine ridgelines and up green valleys right here at home, in Virginia.  The unique and long standing ultra running culture in Virginia is one that we Virginians are proud of and cherish and the number 2,818 is a mere token representation of these feelings.  I've commented recently on this blog that I am somewhat new to the whole ultra running thing but I can't imagine a better place to be "new to ultra running" than in Virginia.  The mountain trails are the best you'll find anywhere and so are the views.  In the end it is the people that always create a culture- certainly not altitude, terrain, etc.- and the people who built and sustain the ultra running culture in Virginia, I find, are truly in a class of their own and who make Virginia a great place for ultra running.

Is there no substitute?

If Saturday’s run has taught me anything it is that I must incorporate more downhill running into my training over the next few months.  Saturday’s mountain running adventure, spanning 36 miles and 8,750 of climbing, was the first of it’s kind since last November.  The body’s memory for climbing and uphill running in general felt second nature, which was nice, but I knew the fast, technical downhill running would come with a cost, paid later in sore quad muscles.  Now, two full days removed from Saturday my quads are still sore, a cautionary reminder of running down tall moutains on unseasoned legs.

The quad muscles will come around soon enough, as will their conditioning, but I can’t help myself from wondering how is it that mimicing long, uphill running is not so much a problem but there isn’t much one can do to replicate mountain downhill running other than to actually seek out mountains and run down them.   Aside from maybe doing leg lifts or squats what options does a (mostly) flatland runner have for seasoning the quads for the rigors of running down mountain after mountain?  As the racing season approaches, the days are fast getting longer and so are my runs.   The time for frequent weekend mountain training runs is nigh.  But what about during the week?  It would be nice to work in extra quad conditioning runs in addition to long weekend runs to prepare the quads, a complicated muscle group to say the least, in the same fashion as running long, sustained descents.  I doubt there is much one can do other than perhaps jacking up the back of a treadmill- something I couldn’t try even if I wanted to since I don’t have access to a treadmill.  I suppose I will continue on with my old habits (which aren’t so bad, really): mountains on the weekends when I’m lucky and a mixture of roads and rolling trails during the week.  Still, if anyone has ideas or suggestions I’d love to hear them.

In other news, to be perfectly honest, people who know me well know that I’m generally somewhat obsessive.  One thing I am obviously obsessive over is running and, certainly, I’m obsessive about actually being able to run and not being injured.  I guess Lisa Jhung sensed this about me and offered to share with her readers how I work to manage running injuries.  Read here: www.runnersworld.com/trail. The extra workload I take on just so I can add running volume comes with a heavy time burden and may not be [necessary] for everyone.  It is simply something I choose to do because I know it works for me.

Marching On

The dust has mostly settled from Saturday’s bonkfest.  I feel much better and mostly recovered.  My head still has some sort funk coming and going out- leftover remnants from whatever flu virus came over me, I figure.  Anyway, March is here which means training officially kicks up a notch.  This is good because I am ready for the next level.  The next level begins this weekend with a long planned trip to the mountains several hours from home with a sturdy batch of trail veterans with plans to cover several miles and get in lots of vert.

February ended right where I hoped it would with not a single day off from running since before January 1.  The thought process for the first half of this year follows something along the lines of by running each day I re-affirm a commitment to showing up at Massanutten ready for battle.  So, consistency is the jam I will continue spreading over my training bread in the remaining months, weeks and days leading up to then.

The past few days of running with the flu-funk has not been the greatest.  I considered holding back and resting but instead kept the runs short and at a slow, active recovery pace.  Walking the tightrope between maintaining the consistency goal and overdoing it is not, nor will ever be, easy.  And, truly, running each-and-every-day is not that important in comparison to day to day health because remaining healthy above all else is actually the linchpin to consistency.  This morning’s run is an example of the aforementioned tightrope.  10 minutes into the run, arriving at my usual North Trail marker in Rock Creek Park at 4:40 I almost turned around and ran back to bed.  Looking down trail in the pitch black was like starring into a black hole.  That, plus the fresh mud from yesterday’s rain didn’t feel so welcoming.  My body felt cold and not really up for the outing.  This was a weird moment.  Somehow, fortunately without great effort, I talked my body into going for the run after all and, though it took a while, like an hour or so, we eventually warmed up together and by the end managed to come away with a somewhat meaningful hilly 10 mile effort for the bank.  I’m not saying I liked this run that much.  I prefer not to have to talk my body into doing something it doesn’t necessarily want to do.  But if I have to, and the body is willing, I will do so again.  What’s worth doing is worth fighting for.  The goal is on the table and I won’t lose it without a fight, or at least without some sort of attempt at persuasion.

With regards to toppling any remaining flu-like symptoms inspiration comes in many forms.

Bonk

My plan for running the Hashawha Hills 50k was to enjoy a local race with friends from VHTRC and get in a solid early season training run.  As the race unfolded something more- and in some ways less appealing- actually happened.

For starters, the best news: Gaby won the race as first female.  She also came in 5^th overall and lowered the woman’s course record time to 4:45.  Hot damn!  The race course consists of two 15.5 very hilly loops, most of which runs over technical to moderately technical woodland single and double track trails.  Despite the icy conditions on the first loop Gaby managed a steady pace, however by the second loop, when much of the ice turned to mud, she became quite tired (having not officially tapered for the race) yet still managed to run well.  I couldn’t be more proud of her.

My experience on the other hand unfolded a bit differently and left me with questions.  After a brisk first loop running in the lead from the start pretty much in lock step with D.C. area local runner Oliver Leblond I bonked pretty bad right at the beginning of the second loop.  As I made my way up the initial hills during the second loop I momentarily considered DNFing, though in better judgment decided against it, and for the remainder of the race managed damage control to keep myself moving. 

Running the first loop with Oliver was a challenge but we managed to keep each other honest.  I pushed him on the down hills and he kept me in check on the climbs.  I could sense the reserved energy he possessed on the climbs with his graceful hamstring lifting running up the hills.  Each hill I ran up however had me thinking when I would be forced to slow my pace.  Last week’s schedule prior to Saturday’s race day, beginning on Monday, included four purposeful ‘training runs’, five runs altogether, for a total of 50 miles, and thanks to the addition of a lightning fast, 30 hour door-to-door trip from D.C. to Los Angeles and back beginning Tuesday evening I was far from fresh by the time Saturday morning rolled around.  In fact, as Gaby and I pulled away from our D.C. abode at 5:15am en route to Westminster, Maryland, site of the Hashawha Hills 50k, I sipped my coffee and commented how I didn’t feel right in the head- as if I were coming down with something.  Instantly I thought back to my back-to-back germ-infested flights a few days prior; I was paranoid about having caught a bug.

Oliver and I finished the first loop together in 2:01 and after a brief stop at an aid station began the second loop in 2:02.  Moments later he began pulling away and I knew this was the time when my pace was forced to slow.  I felt achy, developed slight a headache and felt slightly nauseous.  Eating and drinking was not a problem but it simply didn’t help me feel better; nor did walking up hills.  I’ve never DNFd a race and I wasn’t about to this time either.  I also figured since a second place finish was all but secure, given the proximity of the closest trailing runner, as long as the wheels didn’t completely fall off then I was content with that.  Oliver went on to finish smartly in a course record setting time of 4:09 and I eventually finished 2^nd in 4:24.  His second loop of 2:07 makes for a decent split ratio though he commented after the race that he likely would have run the first loop slower if it were not for me pushing the pace.

As a result of the race and of feeling sick the night and day after (maybe I came down with something after all?) my question is this: is it wise to train through a race?  I am talking about a long race like a 50k, not a 5k or 10k.  My focus race for the first half of 2011 is the Massanutten Mountain 100 in May.  Everything up until then is centered on having fun and will be designed to prepare me for that race.  Last week my training runs consisted of base building prep work for Massanutten and running the Hashawha Hills 50k was incorporated efficiently as a component of said training.  The 50k distance is certainly no walk in the park and to reach one’s potential in that distance a taper is an obvious must.  I had the opposite of a taper.  The problem with training through a race is that once the race begins, instead of following through with the initial plan of getting in that training run, my thoughts change to actually wanting to give the race a go.  And instead of competing, because I am tired, I end up suffering.  Is it worth it?  Is it worth only showing up to a race if you’re fresh so you can do just that, and race?  There is likely no right or wrong answer to this question and I imagine there are many schools of thought on the topic.  It does have me thinking about future races however and whether or not I would like to go into an event tired or not and therefore not able to compete, or at least reach my potential.  I’ve done so much of that in the past year and it would be nice to actually train and taper properly for a race, give it my all, and not suffer the emotional distress afterwards knowing that I didn’t prepare properly and, as a result, didn’t perform to my potential (much less suffer).

The tail end of this post may seem negative or a bit narcissistic.  That is my intent.  One of the primary things I like about running is that it is a constant journey of self-discovery.  Every run provides a lesson and an experience. One of the fun byproducts of running for me is measuring improvement.  After all, isn’t that part of being human?  Wanting to be a better person?  Running is no different.  My point is that if race results are in some respects a measurement of improvement for a runner then trying to run well and come away with fast times at each race should be considered important.  For the past few years that I’ve trained and participated in endurance sports, more recently in ultra running, the cumulative annual experiences have all been different.  I am proud to proclaim that each year the experiences have gotten better and better but as time has shifted so has my goal line.  If the goals change the training must adapt and so should the race schedule.  I doubt I’ll make any changes to my schedule this year since I’m already ecstatic about the adventures yet to come but I still plan to let the lessons from the Hashawha Hills 50k soak in and, hopefully, eventually, they’ll make me a better person and a better runner.

On to a rosier topic, the race itself is a good time and I recommend it.  Click here to see why.

Here it comes: Ultra Race of Champions

Registration for the country’s newest 100k mountain ultra marathon opens March 14th: the Trail Runner Ultra Race of Champions, or UROC.  The race, taking place in the Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains on September 24^th, has been in the works for quite some time and is designed as championship race for elite ultra runners.  Without repeating much of the relevant details one can read on the race website or on the lead sponsor’s (Trail Runner Magazine) website, the bottom line is this: expect top domestic runners (like Geoff) and hopefully some international talent to duke it out over generous purse dinero.  The race will not have a lottery and at this point there is no capacity limit so expect a solid, competitive field.

Now, just because UROC is a “championship” race does not imply runners of all abilities are discouraged from registering.  It is just the opposite: runners of all ability are welcome.  Especially those new to ultra marathoning.  In fact, aside from the 100k distance option there will be 50k and half marathon distance trail races, known as the Great Eastern Endurance Races, or GEER.  GEER has been around for a while.  UROC on the other hand is completely new.  As are the trails upon which UROC will be held- they haven’t been raced on before.

So, what’s it going be?  Are you going to show up and go head to head with some of the best in the sport?  Or are you going to show up simply for the energy, excitement, the chance to challenge yourself with something new and, better still, enjoy Virginia’s beautiful early fall season, running over ancient mountain 100k, 50k or half marathon course trails?  I hope it’s one or the other.

Running at altitude

Do you still exit the house with a hat and gloves on morning runs?  I do.  We are still in the throes of winter.  This perhaps means some of you lucky folk have yet to cash in that winter ski vacation.  And for perhaps even the luckier maybe you’re headed out west to enjoy big mountain, powder, high altitude skiing.  I thought of you when borrowing space from Greg Decent’s weekly Running Column in the Vail Daily and guest-penned a brief article on running at altitude.  Basically, I offer a few suggestions (from my own experiences) on how to make the most of your runs while doing battle with oxygen debt.  It was published last week in the Vail Daily.  Follow this link to read it.

Much has been written on the widely studied practice of endurance training and racing at altitude.  It is a fascinating topic, to say the least, and one of which I am no expert.  Because I am a lowlander from Washington D.C. running while at altitude mostly means seducing the beast; I simply try to find a comfortable rhythm while my lungs search for oxygen as I plod along in the thin air.  Other than the few simple suggestions I offer in the column what additional recommendations can any of you offer to a runner from sea level hoping to get in some decent runs while vacationing at altitude?  What practices do you employ?  I am interested to know.

By the way, how killer is it that the Vail Daily publishes a weekly running column?  Only in an active town like Vail…  As much as I love reading the Washington Post each morning the editors would never think to offer such pleasure to a reader like me.  Note to the Washington Post editors: skip the regular Metro Section traffic report column once in a while and publish something original like hyper-local, motivating, educational information on fun topics, such as running, for the ga-zillion runners in the D.C. region that populate our streets and trails.