Deja Vu

Hard to believe its been a year and here we are, once again, in the final countdown hours to Grindstone.  The weather forecast for the weekend looks perfect.  Just like last year.  The color in the trees in the mountains should be coming out up high.  Just like last year.  The competition looks strong.  Just like last year.  Only a bit stronger.  And I am very, very anxious to spend an entire three full days outside soaking up the wonderful fall weather, while competing and socializing with like minded individuals from all over the east coast and other parts of the US.  Just like last year.

So what's different this year?  Nothing with the race.  The course is the same it has always been and I hope it always will be.  I ran the race last year and I know the course now.  That much is different for me and that is a good thing.  I am in very good shape right now.  Maybe not Western States shape but considering I am not (1) over trained like at Western and (2) not tired like I was last year at Grindstone, I think that is another good difference for me.  As mentioned above, the competition looks strong- Karl, Chris, Evan, Jason and possibly others.  Looking forward to sharing some trail miles with you, and looking forward to breaking some of you, too, as I am sure some of you look forward to trying to break me!  The race will begin at the turnaround point.  That is what I believe.  From there it's on.  When the better part of the entire western world is fast asleep.

See everyone soon.  Night night.

Trying to get the taper right

On the long list of do’s and don’ts that I’ve learned through hard knocks this year in training and racing I would put how not to taper at the top of the pile.  How not to taper?  It’s very simple.  It whittles down to not beginning a taper feeling like crap.  Beginning a taper feeling crappy will most likely carry over to a crappy taper in general, which then of course would lead to (among other things) diet, mood and confidence swings, an overall less than stellar performance on race day, an elongated recovery or some mixture of all of the above.

“Feeling like crap” might mean different things to different people.  There is over-trained feeling like crap.  Habitually sore muscles feeling like crap.  Injury feeling like crap.  Daily low energy levels feeling like crap.  Less than enthusiastic (i.e. “what am I doing this for?”) feeling like crap.  And so on.  Whatever the case may be, and there could be several, simultaneously, one must be vigilant in minimizing the feeling like crap factor prior to a taper.

The more fit, loose, confident, etc. one feels at the cusp of a taper the better and better one will continue to feel throughout the taper and, thus, the better one will likely perform at their chosen event.  This probably sounds obvious but in reality many of us, myself included, have a tendency to peak train intensely leading up to a taper, often feeling tapped out at the time taper begins and think that is how we should feel three weeks, two weeks, 10 days or what have you out from an event because we have time to recover and energize.

I’ve certainly begun a taper feeling crappy.  Sometimes I’ve even raced well after a crappy taper.  Sometimes I’ve even recovered well too.  But more often than not, after a crappy taper, I’ve always felt as though I left something on the table after the race; as if I could have done better.  That includes races I’ve run this year.  Western States is a prime example.  This might sound like BS but I pretty much felt like shit even two days before the race.  In that case, the feeling like crap factor for me was that I was over trained.  Feeling like crap at the time of the taper shook my confidence and let’s just say the final few weeks leading up to the start in Squaw were bumpy.  My mental game definitely improved in the hours leading up to the race but, deep down, I knew my body wasn’t properly prepared.  Rather, it was over prepared.  And my post race recovery was longer and slower than normal too.

Some people I know don’t even taper.  They don’t because they know it will make them feel like crap.  I’ve often felt this way.  But in reality I think this is not true- which is part of the whole point of this post.  Plus, there are flat out some types of races that simply do not require much of a taper or a taper at all.  100s are a different story all together.  100s require a taper.

I am speaking up about this now because Grindstone is right around the corner and it recently occurred to me that I definitely do not want to begin another taper feeling crappy from the get go.  I know where that road leads.  So what I have done about it?  Based on my recent Western States experience the first thing I did was cut down the volume a bit immediately preceding the taper- which I should point out is what I am doing now.  Tapering.  I also nipped and tucked a few of the longer runs over the past few weeks that in recent past I would have thought I needed.  Nor have I been much concerned with weekly elevation gain.  The fact is I’ve run a ton already this year- more miles and more vertical than in any year prior.  I look at all of this year’s training and recognize that without allowing the body to absorb an actual real rest period (which will come after Pinhoti) not much added benefit will come from continuing to rack up heavy, heavy training.  In fact, it could produce the opposite: diminished returns.

One of the truisms in training and in life is that each new season is different, and this is what I know is working for me right now.  By assessing how I felt leading up to the current taper and by making a few modifications along the way I now feel fit, loose and confident.  I’m ready to rip at Grindstone.  I can feel it.

All of this is to say that going forward I will definitely play closer attention to the feeling like crap factor before beginning a taper.  Whatever the case might be- overtraining, etc.- in whatever season I find myself.  By focusing on starting the taper feeling good, as opposed to focusing on ending the taper feeling good, I am confident better race results will come.

FKT at Old Rag Mountain

For the better part of this year I’ve had an itch to haul in something I would consider close to a perfect run on one of my favorite Virginia Mountains- Old Rag.  By a perfect run of course I mean something speedy but also something where I would feel decent throughout and really good at the finish.  Finally, yesterday I made the call: after work this run was going to happen.  I hit the road around 4pm and drove north towards the Old Rag Mountain trailhead located on back roads a few miles off Route 231, an hour’s drive from home.



A photo I snapped on July 28th, 2012 looking west from 231.  Old Rag shortly after sunrise.  How nice to receive mail at the Craft abode.



Another view.

Old Rag Mountain is unique and exceedingly popular in that it draws approximately 80,000 people each year who show up to hike the Ridge Trail to the summit, down the Saddle Trail and back to their cars via the Weakley Hollow Fire Road.  Some elect to travel in the opposite direction but most often the chosen route is the clockwise direction, the route I just described, the route to which I am partial and the direction I ran yesterday evening.  In total this circuit encompasses 7.5 miles and just shy of 2,200 vertical feet.   By itself, Old Rag is obviously not very big.  Or tall.  In fact, it is more or less a border mountain located between neighboring foothills and the bigger Blue Ridge Mountain peaks of the Shenandoah National Park located immediately to it's west.  For many reasons, however, Old Rag lends itself well to popularity.  For starters, it is located close to various towns, cities and main roads (or vice versa).  Old Rag also happens to offer spectacular views from atop and, well, it’s just a darn fun mountain to experience.  Especially the super rocky summit ridgeline, which requires practically a full mile’s worth of scrambling; sometimes on all fours and at one point the trail even passes through a cave.  Aside from Mount Monadnock in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the most pedestrian travelled mountain in the United States, if not the world, Old Rag has to be one of the most hiked mountains in all the land.  As a comparison, 125,000 to 130,000 hike Monadnock each year.  How many mountains and National Park locales can even support this kind of use?

The scene at the upper parking lot.  Ridge Trail begins on the left, Weakley Hollow Fire begins (or ends) behind the yellow chain.

Once I arrived at Old Rag and parked at the lower overflow lot I warmed up for 10 minutes on the road leading up to the trailhead.  I shook out my legs.  My quads.  I stood in place and counted jumping jacks.  The legs felt heavy still and not at all excited about the task at hand: to run the Old Rag loop- from the upper lot cement trailhead post and back- in FKT fashion.  Screw it, I thought.  I made the drive and I was going to give this run a shot regardless of how the legs felt.  I started my watch, tapped the cement post and off I went up the Ridge Trail.  A moment passed and in the midst of heavy breaths and paranoid thoughts about not feeling truly up for the effort a voice echoed in my head, seemingly out of nowhere.  Relax.  Let the mountain come to you.  That was all it said, only once, and apparently all I needed to hear.  Instantly my shoulders dropped, my breathing settled and I became fixated soley on traveling the most efficient lines through the rocks at a comfortable pace up Old Rag.  Still, my legs felt heavy.  The voice didn’t just make that go away; I simply concentrated on other things.  Mostly, I thought of nothing at all.  My thoughts were empty; in a good way.

The first overlook, at mile 2.14, came at :22:17.  At this point I began the first bit of hands-on-knees power hiking.  The dirt path changed to a rock staircase which soon gave way to incline granite slabs.  I was now in the thick of things on the best part of Old Rag as I climbed, pulled, pushed, lifted, crawled, hopped and scrambled my way up the summit ridge.  The ironic thing about attempting a perfect run on Old Rag is that negotiating the summit portion allows very little running at all.  As evidence, my GPS splits revealed a 17:20 pace over the 1.01 mile between the first overlook and the actual summit, which I clocked in at :39:50 at the summit post sign.

According to Virginia trail running aficionado and historian, Joe Clapper, Kevin Sawchuck of California long held the official summit FKT in :42:31.  I'm not sure in what year he ran it but I believe it was in the late 90s.  Prior to Kevin's benchmark, Joe and Derrick Carr would duel back and forth over who was king dingaling of Old Rag Mountain.  My summit reach earned me FKT #1 on the run so far and a spot in the history books with greats Joe, Derrick and Kevin.  I must be moving well after all, I figured.  Not perfectly thus far but well enough.  The summit FKT was gravy but it was not why I came to Old Rag.  I came for the full loop FKT, so I continued on past the summit sign and prepared my downhill legs for the coming 1.9 miles of technical downhill and switchbacks.

Man, my legs felt good running downhill.  What happened?  Why all the sudden did they feel so strong?  I suppose the mental boost from summiting in less than 40 minutes had something to do with it.  The confidence meter shifted.  A moment or two went by and I stopped concerning myself with the why, I simply leaned more into the trail, sped up and enjoyed the ride.  The summit descent to the Old Rag Shelter is exceedingly technical yet somehow I managed to actually stride out my legs over the rocks and move really quickly down the mountain.  That is another one of the unique things about Old Rag: in such a condensed loop there is so much variation in the trail.  And to cover the loop in FKT fashion one must draw on a diverse skillset which need include, but not be limited to, climbing, rock climbing, scrambling, technical downhill ability and, finally, over the gravel road homestretch, pure speed.

At :53 I hit the gravel Weakley Hollow Fire Road intersection and banged a right hand turn.  It was a gradual downhill from there back to the Old Rag upper parking lot cement trailhead post, and I cruised the final 2.44 miles at 5:14 pace.

Finally, I entered the upper parking lot, tapped the cement post and stopped my watch at 1:05:49- FKT #2 on the day for the roundtrip.  I stood around for a moment or two thinking yeah, maybe I could cover this loop slightly faster, sure, but it was still a perfectly good run.  I felt good, which is what I had hoped for, and I was happy.  I felt like celebrating so I picked up the water bottle, headlight and pack of Clif blocks I stashed earlier behind a log and made my way back up the Ridge Trail for another loop.

Prior to completing this loop I imagined anything under a finish time of 1:10 would be fairly stout and so I am happy with my time.  Sub 1:05 is definitely within reach, possibly even sub 1:03 or 1:02.  It was still warm out during the run and possibly cooler temperatures alone might have helped get me below 1:05, something I think has a nice ring to it and I would like to claim eventually.  Sub one hour?  I seriously, seriously doubt I have that in me.  Never say never but just looking over the splits and how the course is laid out, each section being so unique and requiring different skillsets, I’m not sure where I could shave off a total of more than five minutes and 49 seconds.

Benefits of Running

Last week I had the good fortune to witness in real time one of the many extraordinary benefits of running in daily life.  Last Tuesday, September 11^th, Gaby gave birth to a healthy baby boy, to whom we of course fell instantly and conjointly in love with and to whom we have rededicated our lives.  But the story here, at least for this blog’s sake, is in the hours preceding his birth.

Gaby’s contractions began very early, in the pre-dawn hours of Tuesday morning.  During which I mostly continued sleeping and Gaby tossed and turned, no doubt analyzing the patterns between the contractions.  As the sun came up what did Gaby then decide to do?  First, she instructed that I continue on with my ritual and go for a run, explaining that she would be fine.  Second, she decided to go for a walk.  It would make her feel better during the contractions, she said.

Wanting to stay close to home, Gaby marched the few blocks over to the University of Virginia track, exchanging pavement for the highly technical rubberized soft surface of Lannigan Field.  At the track Gaby apparently felt good and decided to run.  Run?  During labor?  Yes indeed.  Five miles later Gaby returned home, called her doctor and we casually made our way to his office for a checkup.  She was dilated and the baby was on his way.  Later in the morning we checked into the hospital and the full on delivery began.  Less than six hours after Gaby ran five miles at the track out came our son, Trail Alexander Gorman.  Gaby was amazing, and delivered naturally; just the way she had hoped.  This story has been told many times over the past week by yours truly- in person, via text, email, phone, Skype and so once more, via this blog, won’t kill me.  (I’ll even recycle the same drollery many friends and family have already heard or read: what a double that was.)

Gaby remained in excellent shape throughout her pregnancy thanks to running.  This fitness carried over to her feeling [mostly] in control and confident during labor as well, which fortunately turned out to be a success.  Could it be that Gaby’s labor some women might refer to as ‘easy’ was in large part a result of her fitness?  That running the morning of her birth actually even helped with her labor?  And, now, her recovery is going really well because of her running fitness also?  Definitely.  In fact, the doctors and nurses at Martha Jefferson Hospital in Charlottesville, where Gaby delivered, all of whom were impressed, seemed to agree on as much.

For me, witnessing Gaby in action was and is yet another basic, inspiring reminder of the natural importance of health and fitness, and that there is simply no better- or easier- way to bridge a happy and healthy lifestyle than to get outside and run as often is possible.

Eastern fall racing

Finally, after a long, soggy summer that hopefully will terminate soon, the body is beginning to once again feel restored from runs as opposed to feeling depleted after them.  It seemed so long where back-to-back runs have clicked by without incidence, or without feeling completely drained, sore, dehydrated, limp, over trained or some other descriptive for generally feeling whipped.  This summer has kicked my ass and I’ve struggled by the duel blows of summer’s heat and humidity, simple as that.

For the most part I hate excuses and disdain complaining but I’ve found myself commiserating in summer’s midst on more than one occasion with a wilting flower or dry creek bed.  Last summer I recall enjoying summer’s intensity, at least for a while, but- alas- each year is unique and offers new experiences.

Fortunately the earth continues rotating and seasons change.  At least that is how summer seemed to leave us each year in Washington D.C.  The earth turned a bit on its axis and things got chilly. Hopefully the same occurrence will happen in Charlottesville.  I expect that it will, and beg that it does expediently.  Days eventually will grow longer, leaves will explode into color and in congruence the East’s fall ultra racing season will heat up.

It’s exciting to think about.  Ultra running has experienced an eventful year and I suppose that is the new norm going forward; however, the year is not yet over and though there remains a few important western races (Wasatch, Run Rabbit Run, North Face SF) it seems to me the fall and early winter belongs to the East.  UROC, Grindstone, Vermont 50, JFK, Stonemill, Masochist, Tussey Mountainback, Hellgate and now even Pinhoti- to name just a few- all remain as big question marks as to who will show up at each event and who will raise eyebrows long after the summer ultra season has cooled off.  As an East Coaster it is energizing to recognize that so many important races still remain on the 2012 calendar and so many of these races are close to home.

Perhaps it is fortuitous that my summer of running has not gone so well.  A bit of rest and weariness never killed anyone last time I checked.  My calendar is full enough with Eastern fall events and I intend to represent.

UTMB is out. Grindstone, Pinhoti are in.

Seven years ago in October Gaby and I wed at the Halcyon House in Washington D.C.  A swanky, at the time artist lived-in, rumored-to-be-haunted mansion located in the heart of Georgetown, punctuating a bluff overlooking M Street, the Potomac River, Key Bridge and Roslyn, Virginia.  I recall clearly the moments before we walked down a makeshift aisle and exchanged nuptials.  The feel-good emotions coming over me I instantly recognized as something to embrace.  I felt a warm, internal buzzing and wanted to remember exactly how it felt, never knowing how deep it might go or how long it might last. With no fear of neglecting our guests I rushed to the nearest empty room, away from everyone and locked myself in it.  As the ceremony began the buzz intensified and with it my senses rose to levels I’d never known.  Smells wafting from everywhere- from flowers, furniture, people, even the house itself- were all consuming and impossible to ignore.  Remote sounds I could easily pinpoint, tune in or tune out.  The feelings of touch and alertness were as equally profound.  Simply, I felt like what I imagined a skilled cat to live with; senses far sharper than those of an average human.  In fact, after the ceremony ended and before the reception began I still felt it and informed a few friends and family of just that; that I felt like a cat (which sounds kind of funny to admit) and the sensation was both unusual and intensely gratifying.  It was one of the more self-actualizing moments of my life by far.  It still is.

With the coming birth of our son in a month I fully expect to experience similar emotions and if I am fortunate they will act as the key to unlocking incredible, innate sensibilities that likely only surface a few times in one’s life, at best.  Also, I really, really look forward to welcoming the little guy.  Therefore, I have decided to withdraw from UTMB.  I simply cannot risk being on a mountain in France and missing out on such a monumental occasion.  Plus, most importantly, in the event he comes just a wee bit early, I must be present to support Gaby when she will no doubt need me most.  UTMB too would no doubt deliver flashes of self-actualization and wake filled memories worth reliving in repetitive thought but nothing like what I imagine the arrival of one’s first child will bring to the line.  UTMB can wait.

The flip side of this news is that Grindstone and Pinhoti are now on tap.  I’m excited to toe another Virginia 100 mile line.  Particularly Grindstone, since that was the last Virginia 100 I ran and its course I am confident I could run much faster.  Until then, it’s all about preparing for the little guy, gearing the training back up to pre-Western levels and kicking summer in its hot, sticky ass as it eventually walks out the door.

Here is a tune by Sigur Ros to inflate your sensibilities.  Visually, not a bad concert venue if you ask me.  Almost any time I listen to a Sigur Ros tune I am transported back to a summer, 10 years ago.  Lying down, at night on the hardwood floor in my home office with a bit of red wine in one arm and Gaby in the other.

Drug testing at Western States

The Western States Endurance Run is one of the oldest ultra trail events in the world.  The organization bills the event as one of the most challenging ultra marathons, an “international” draw and- in magazine advertisements- a “championship” event.  Others praise the event as “prestigious” or refer to it as the “Big Dance”.  These aren’t my words but I tend to agree with them.  It’s hard to argue against Western States being the most popular and sought after 100 in the land, period.  Over the years, for many reasons, Western States has earned this luring reputation and its placement in annals of ultra marathon history.

As far as 100 milers go, in the US and elsewhere, except for in Chamonix, there is no race that commands the attention of the running community, attracts as many athletes to its registration or swells its field with elites runners, quite like Western States.  Not even close.

Moreover, runners who win at Western States are often catapulted to the top of the sport’s prize ranking Ultra Runner of the Year and or ultra runner Performance of the Year voting blocks, if not crowned such by their performances.   This will likely happen again for 2012 after Timmy’s and Ellie’s recent outstanding performances.

As ultrarunning continues to gain in popularity, and even as more and more competing ultra events sprout up, the lure of Western States will remain, if not intensify.  And as fast as other races, old and new, become more and more popular Western States will also, possibly with greater velocity.

The men’s and women’s fields at Western States for the past few years have been shockingly deep, the performances very inspiring.  What does the future hold for the race in terms of competition?  Even if nothing changes, in terms of the event's registration process- which I could care less if it changes or not- the race will only continue to intensify in terms of competition.  So much so that it is difficult to imagine the possible times and field depth five to ten years out as more and more athletes continue to break new barriers.  It is exciting to think about.

I believe that the future of ultrarunning may even be defined, if not refined, by Western States performances and the calculus of its race results and performances.  What do I mean by this?  For starters, as the years click by more and more elite athletes will run Western States and finish in incredibly fast times.  In the next few years- no matter the course or the weather- to finish top ten a male may have to run under 16 hours.  In fact, that almost happened this year.  Six men finished under 16 hours, the remaining four of the top ten finished in 16:03, 16:05, 16:13 and 16:18.  For the women, sub 19 hours could be the cutoff.  Similar to the men, that almost happened this year.   Six women finished under 19 hours, the remaining four of the top ten finished in 19:09, 19:11, 19:29 and 19:45.  Incredible times like these result from incredible performances, which require incredible training and incredible sacrifice by incredible people; people who are focused on Western States and arrive in Squaw in June fresh and ready run hard. 

As always, many runners who deliver incredible times will arrive to Squaw already with big names and a record of strong past performances.  Others may show up out of the woodwork and turn heads.  The only difference is, going forward, there may be more and more runners showing up for the Big Dance out of the woodwork with head turning potential.  That is because more and more runners will focus their efforts on Western States, show up for the Big Dance, kill it, whether they top ten or not, then return to their home states or countries and continue killing it at other local and regional events.  Simply by virtue of runners producing so many big performances at Western States the elite ultra running pie will grow and grow, inspire and filter out through networks of ultra running communities everywhere.

Admittedly, I am getting a bit carried away.  Where am I going with this?  I believe Western States should consider enacting a drug testing policy for the top ten male and female finishers.  These athletes could be tested right there on the football field at Placer High, in a tent, surrounded by the track where runners finish the race.  Win Western States?  Top ten finisher?  Congratulations!  Come with me for a few minutes.  Oh, and here.  Drink this bottle of water.  We need a sample of your urine to test for banned performance enhancing supplements.

First, let me say loud and clear, I suspect no one of doping at Western States or at any ultra, anywhere; I never have.  But I acknowledge people are people, and we are flawed.  We cheat at school, take short cuts at work, we lie, we do things we know are wrong to gain an edge in life and we’re lazy.  It would be naïve to think that as ultras- in particular, Western States- continue to grow in popularity and as prize money and sponsorships resulting from top performances become more lucrative that some within the ultra running community will not look to short cuts.  Hell, ego alone for some might be reason enough to dope.  Western States- nay, the ultra running community at large- need not learn this lesson or try to fix or cover it up after the fact- like some other sports.  Doping already occurs in ultra running.  Look to Comrades- this year and others.  Is it happening at other ultra events?  Not that I know of but I personally have heard rumors about it taking place among top runners at an international event- and I am not referring to Comrades.  Could it happen at Western States?  Why couldn’t it?  Will it?  Yes, eventually, definitely, if a process is not set up to bust cheaters.  In anything and everything, sports and otherwise, cheaters somehow always snatch a seat at the table of opportunity, looking out only for their own by taking advantage of others and breaking the rules.

Developing a fair, legal, above board drug testing policy couldn’t be that difficult.  Certainly, Western States has the resources and connections to see it through.  Not only would an official drug testing policy validate an athlete’s win or top ten it would help to maintain a level playing field for all athletes, and in the process elevate Western States to new, unchartered status as the premier 100 in the land and elsewhere.  Isn’t that what many people are after?  Something akin to a true 100 mile championship race?  How can we have that in this day and age without procedures in place set up and designed to keep things fair amongst the athletes?  People talk a lot about prize money, as if that were one of the primary driving factors necessary to establish a championship event.  Maybe it is for some.  Personally, I would rather win Western States (if that was ever possible…) than run and win any other 100 mile race with a cash purse, where I ran for the expressed purpose of getting paid.

Screw the money.  What athletes really need is drug testing.

More than drug testing, what athletes really need is protection.  Drug testing will provide that.  I don’t mean to suggest that athletes needs protection from themselves.  Athletes need protection from everyone else, including maybe even other athletes.  Say in a perfect world, a large snowball amassed in hell, and I won Western States.  People might say no frickin’ way.  That guy had to dope.  And, who knows, they might be justified for feeling that way and some might even welcome their opinions in an open forum.  My name would quickly become mud; whether I doped or not.  After all, world over, it’s not like endurance athletes haven’t given the public reason to be suspicious.

My story is much like that of many fellow ultra runners.  I didn’t begin running until later in life and (still role playing here…) whoever would have thought that I could win Western States?  A drug test would help protect me from accusatory backlash.  Western States, Montrail Cup qualifying races and other big races require runners with big names to swell their ranks and draw attention to their events.  Well, whether race directors realize it or not, athletes require help from these races to keep their good names clean.  My work is in the insurance biz and my primary function each and every day is to manage risk for clients.  I simply look at the protection afforded athletes by drug testing as risk management, and not just for the athletes but also for the events, race directors and the sport itself. 

All of this may seem much ado about nothing but for me personally this latter point is the one thing I am most concerned about, if anything.  No, not winning Western States and being wrongfully called out but actually running something extraordinary- a sub 16 for example, which I know is possible- and being wrongfully called out.  I value my name and my integrity and fear those who might seek to wrongfully tarnish it, whether they truly believed I was in the wrong or not.

It's not like I believe this scenario could actually play out for me, but I recognize it is possible.  It could certainly happen to others as well, men or women.  Everywhere I go to run races and training runs and everyone I meet I feel is a lot like me.  Meaning, they're just normal, everyday people.  Well, sort of.  Aside from the fact that they're incredible athletes.  They have jobs, families, they work hard, etc.  I would hate to see such a scenario play out for one of my countless friends and acquaintances who enjoy the sport as much as I do, if not more.  

I for one would be happy to be drug tested.  In fact, I would be flattered.  That would say to me that a race director and a race event that I respect thought of me and my performance as so strong that they thought it necessary to verify that I wasn’t cheating.  That may sound a bit strange but as long as the policy is fair and open amongst everyone, seriously, what would I care?

Over the past few weeks (before Western States, not after) I have had a few conversations with people about the possibility of athletes doping at Western States and at other ultra events in general.  Some of these conversations I had with fellow ultra runners, some I had with friends who are not ultra runners.  It seems the fear of athletes doping is already on people’s minds.  Maybe this fear is out there among others in the community, too, only it isn’t talked about much; at least not publicly.

As I said, looking down the road, it is exciting to think where the sport is going.  I for one get goose bumps just thinking about it.  Whether we acknowledge or admit it or not, in part, good or bad, we have Western States to thank for much of this directionality.  Can you imagine a time and place at Western States where times won’t continue dropping or when performances will cease to inspire?  Maybe not each and every year, but overall.  What we don’t want to happen is arrive at a time and place where athletes are accused of cheating and there is no proof, yet an individual’s reputation is tarnished regardless.  Nor do we want a cheater hauling off a Western States Cougar trophy or a top ten finish.  Or do we wish for a scenario where athletes are found out as cheaters but after the fact, resulting in a big, explosive, drama infused outcome.  That would leave an ugly black mark on the sport.  Western States can head off such an unseemly- but not unthinkable- scenario at the pass by enacting a drug testing policy for the top ten male and female finishers.

I think testing beyond the top ten isn’t necessary.  If a runner enters Western States understanding the drug testing policy and shows up gunning for a win or top ten, yet finishes in the teens or higher, then odds are he or she won’t be doping because if they were to win or finish top ten they would know their finish wouldn’t count if they were discovered as a doper.

Many top ultra runners want to run Western States.  Among these individuals, the ultimate goal for some is to finish top ten.  I suspect no one of doping at Western States or at any other ultra, ever, and have no cause for such suspicion.  But I do think in order to help protect athletes, keep the playing field level and elevate the sport Western States should consider enacting a drug testing policy for the top ten male and female finishers.