It's about time to post the final installment of my adventure. It's an adventure, which by the way, I hope to be only one of several ultrarun adventures - Deo volente ("with God willing").
During the last eight miles or so I absolutely knew I would finish, but it was frustrating knowing my time would be much slower than I had originally hoped. The terrain was for the most part much less irregular than it had been during those damaging miles earlier, but my knee was still not ready for most of it. On occasion I broke into a survival-shuffle. I had a conversation with another runner who had been reduced to the same fate (i.e. a walk/shuffle) due to plantar fascia trouble. She was a young attorney who had become attracted to the ultradistances as well. These pursuits are often just what the doctor ordered for Type A individuals. During the course of our conversation I touched upon the cultural divide which is so evident in this country right now. However, I only touched upon the religious/political element, but instead identified a divide which seems to accompany it: the divide between the active and non-active.
I'm quite serious about the divide just mentioned. There is a significant portion of the population whose default setting seems to be stuck in "sedentary" mode. Physical exercise, particularly of the endurance variety, is to them at best means to better health and fitness. - almost in the "necessary evil" category. With that type of view, it is very hard to enjoy movement, to do much of it voluntarily, and therefore it is difficult to possess the health, fitness, and comfort with the body that they could otherwise have. For reasons that bear more analysis and explanation than I wish to give right now, the people in this group are often the very people who should be the first to value and use their bodies for movement. I'm referring to Bible-believing Christians. There is no good reason for those in the "Bible Belt" of this country to be the fattest and least health conscious people when compared to the more secular and non-Bible-believing people who tend to inhabit the East and West coasts.
As can be inferred from what I just said about one group, the group on the other side of the divide is often populated by the very same people who would not be identified as "Bible-believing Christians" or "conservative." The modern (not "classical") liberals that predominate on both our East coast and West tend to be the ones adhering to a movement lifestyle. These are the ones for whom the default mode is "movement" rather than "sitting" or "sedentary." They not only move as a means to the end of preventing a heart attack or other life-shortening event, but they move for the sheer joy of it. This is the group that I find myself in - though I do not belong to the liberal/secular group. I often fancy calling myself a "crunchy conservative" - but my goal is not that I would stand out in that way. Christ's followers should not follow the unbiblical notion that the physical body is somehow not "good" but should instead embrace and care for all of God's gifts - including our bodies and the environment. Should this be regulated by the civil government? The short answer is "No." Again, this is something where further explanation might be sought by some - but I won't give in this particular blog post. Let it suffice to say that I am a proponent of a lifestyle of MOVEMENT and JOY in movement - and I hope and pray to bring many of my Christian brothers and sisters into this movement. Just as the Devil should not have all the good music, the Devil should not have all the good running, cycling, race times, healthy bodies, other exercise, et cetera!
Back to the race. Some time after the young attorney left me, deciding the time was right for her own survival-shuffle, I found there was only a few miles to go. I broke into my own shuffle a couple times. The course became almost flat. I was getting close. I wondered whether my dad had thought to enter my three oldest kids who were with him at the time in the "Kids Race" to be held at 4pm. They had all been intent on running the one-kilometer Kids Race and I didn't want them to miss it - even if I would miss seeing it. In the near distance I then saw what looked like my dad accompanied by my three kids I just mentioned. As I approached, I raised my voice and asked if they didn't know the Kid's Race was to start in just a few minutes. The response I got showed that he and they knew, but that they had wanted to meet me on the course. They had all walked about two miles from the start/finish line to meet me, and both of the girls wanted to run the final two miles with me. What more could a dad want in terms of support? No race for the kids that day - but it was a joy to see them and to run the final two miles with them. Kodak moment. They did beautifully. I crossed the finish line in 11 hours, 7 minutes, 52 seconds; 185th out of 361 entrants. I was holding Brenna's light blue jacket under my arm.
How do I close up this story? I'll try and make it short. I stayed with my girls, retrieved my personal belongings bag, got and enjoyed my free beer (Sierra Nevada) from the beer garden, piled my hot meal plate high with meaty, cheesy pasta and vegetables from the hot meal station from which I was entitled to a hot meal. We sat on the grass in the middle of the festive area as I enjoyed my food. Dad and Liam (my 4-year-old son) eventually came and met us. Liam had quite the hike that day with his two miles out and two miles back journey. According to Dad, Liam didn't complain a bit. Good job, Liam. We stayed for a short while before before getting on the bus which took us to our respective vehicles. From there we went back to my parents' house. The kids came back with dinner from McDonalds - and I also had dinner from McDonalds. It was my second dinner of the evening. A double-cheesburger and two McDonalds desert pies (on top of another full dinner just-eaten) burn with no complications in the stomach of one who had just traveled fifty-miles on foot. Even with legs that would soon become virtually useless and reduce me to the ambulatory powers of a 100-year old man, I felt absolutely wonderful.
Next year: more trail training and a much faster race-day performance! I love this stuff.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
My 50-Mile Ultra Experience Part 5
Will this be the final installment? At this point I don't know. Let's continue.
We left off with me at mile 30-something and right knee hurting. By the say, the scenery was absolutely fantastic and beautiful during this 50-mile journey. The aid station workers were helpful, and most of all, the runners along the way were enjoyable. I've often had the Utopian thought that if everyone simply took up distance running the world would be a much nicer place. Distance running has a way of loosening the inhibitions and making one inclined to regard their fellow path-traveler as a friend before they regard them as a stranger. This is very much unlike "real life" in which we're usually wary and tight-lipped with those whom we don't know. I've always enjoyed the camaraderie and easy friendship (even if it is fleeting) that running brings. Even while your fellow travelers may want to beat you, they nevertheless want to help you as well. Strange but true.
Vibram Five Fingers. Do these words ring a bell for anyone out there? Originally I had been training in Vibram Five Fingers footwear. They are more aptly called "footwear" than "shoes" because they are little more than protective gloves for the feet. It's a great concept. The idea is to let the foot function naturally rather than the artificial and limited role the foot becomes accustomed to when enclosed in the virtual tomb we call a "shoe." But alas, during the course of my training I ran into an issue with my Vibrams in which my foot, leg, and tendons were not adapting fast enough to the primal function desired of them and promoted by the Vibrams. I had to switch to the Nike "Free" shoe. It was still minimal, but very substantial compared to the Vibrams. It turned out to be a good compromise, and my problems went away. During the initial two hours of the race and experiencing the rocky and uneven terrain I became even more convinced that my switch to more conventional and protective footwear was the right one. I thought that surely any modern western human foot would not be able to bear the sharp edges, rocks, and uneven surfaces of the course if only shod in Vibrams. Well, perhaps MY foot couldn't, but during the mid parts of the race I came across several runners wearing Vibrams! True, they were but few in number, but they were ably negotiating the terrain and seemed none worse for the wear. Perhaps I can work on some more personal adaptation this next year and revive the recently discarded personal "Tribal Man" appellation and mantra.
Back to the hurt knee and the aid station at mile 30-something. I stayed there for longer than five minutes. This was decision time. Should I DNF? ("DNF" stands for "Did Not Finish") or should I persist somehow. I knew at this point that if I continued with my current pace and way of running I might be in for knee damage that would result in having to take weeks or months off for recovery. I definitely did not want that. I didn't want to DNF either? One reason was personal pride. If someone would ask about my race I would have to admit I didn't finish. I could give a good reason for the DNF, but still it would be a DNF. I also did not want to DNF for reasons of principle. That is, if one has started a task, and the task is a worthy one, then complete it - even if it is completed slowly and with difficulty. Don't get me wrong. There are indeed circumstance in which one should throw in the towel and quit. One of these circumstances would be if any movement whatsoever brought the injury-type (not exertion-type) pain that my knee was issuing. However, after some assessing of the situation at hand, I determined I could move without the knee pain - but I couldn't run downhill or even do anything above a virtual shuffle even on the flats. My hope of a good finishing place and time evaporated, but I became more and more resolute to finish the race. Over the next 10 miles or so I again contemplated a DNF a few times, but each time the urge was weaker and my decision to continue was stronger. Three of my kids would be meeting me later at the finish and also hoped to run in the "Kids' Race." How could I tell explain to them a DNF? How could I set that sort of example in good conscience? Wouldn't I want them to finish their race even if they encountered problems or were passed by many other kids - or even if they were in last place? I had to set the right example. The example of the Tanzanian marathon runner brought up by Pastor Steve also both chided and encouraged me. The Tanzanian had been an Olympic contender and the pride of his country, but had suffered physical misfortune during the race and had lost all hopes of a fast finish. Indeed, he had been reduced to a very slow pace. When asked why he persisted in the race he said something like this: "My country did not send me here to quit, but they sent me here to FINISH the marathon." My quotation may not be verbatim, but it contains the sentiment. It was a sentiment I shared - though it was only myself, friends, and family who were 'sending' me to this race.
We left off with me at mile 30-something and right knee hurting. By the say, the scenery was absolutely fantastic and beautiful during this 50-mile journey. The aid station workers were helpful, and most of all, the runners along the way were enjoyable. I've often had the Utopian thought that if everyone simply took up distance running the world would be a much nicer place. Distance running has a way of loosening the inhibitions and making one inclined to regard their fellow path-traveler as a friend before they regard them as a stranger. This is very much unlike "real life" in which we're usually wary and tight-lipped with those whom we don't know. I've always enjoyed the camaraderie and easy friendship (even if it is fleeting) that running brings. Even while your fellow travelers may want to beat you, they nevertheless want to help you as well. Strange but true.
Vibram Five Fingers. Do these words ring a bell for anyone out there? Originally I had been training in Vibram Five Fingers footwear. They are more aptly called "footwear" than "shoes" because they are little more than protective gloves for the feet. It's a great concept. The idea is to let the foot function naturally rather than the artificial and limited role the foot becomes accustomed to when enclosed in the virtual tomb we call a "shoe." But alas, during the course of my training I ran into an issue with my Vibrams in which my foot, leg, and tendons were not adapting fast enough to the primal function desired of them and promoted by the Vibrams. I had to switch to the Nike "Free" shoe. It was still minimal, but very substantial compared to the Vibrams. It turned out to be a good compromise, and my problems went away. During the initial two hours of the race and experiencing the rocky and uneven terrain I became even more convinced that my switch to more conventional and protective footwear was the right one. I thought that surely any modern western human foot would not be able to bear the sharp edges, rocks, and uneven surfaces of the course if only shod in Vibrams. Well, perhaps MY foot couldn't, but during the mid parts of the race I came across several runners wearing Vibrams! True, they were but few in number, but they were ably negotiating the terrain and seemed none worse for the wear. Perhaps I can work on some more personal adaptation this next year and revive the recently discarded personal "Tribal Man" appellation and mantra.
Back to the hurt knee and the aid station at mile 30-something. I stayed there for longer than five minutes. This was decision time. Should I DNF? ("DNF" stands for "Did Not Finish") or should I persist somehow. I knew at this point that if I continued with my current pace and way of running I might be in for knee damage that would result in having to take weeks or months off for recovery. I definitely did not want that. I didn't want to DNF either? One reason was personal pride. If someone would ask about my race I would have to admit I didn't finish. I could give a good reason for the DNF, but still it would be a DNF. I also did not want to DNF for reasons of principle. That is, if one has started a task, and the task is a worthy one, then complete it - even if it is completed slowly and with difficulty. Don't get me wrong. There are indeed circumstance in which one should throw in the towel and quit. One of these circumstances would be if any movement whatsoever brought the injury-type (not exertion-type) pain that my knee was issuing. However, after some assessing of the situation at hand, I determined I could move without the knee pain - but I couldn't run downhill or even do anything above a virtual shuffle even on the flats. My hope of a good finishing place and time evaporated, but I became more and more resolute to finish the race. Over the next 10 miles or so I again contemplated a DNF a few times, but each time the urge was weaker and my decision to continue was stronger. Three of my kids would be meeting me later at the finish and also hoped to run in the "Kids' Race." How could I tell explain to them a DNF? How could I set that sort of example in good conscience? Wouldn't I want them to finish their race even if they encountered problems or were passed by many other kids - or even if they were in last place? I had to set the right example. The example of the Tanzanian marathon runner brought up by Pastor Steve also both chided and encouraged me. The Tanzanian had been an Olympic contender and the pride of his country, but had suffered physical misfortune during the race and had lost all hopes of a fast finish. Indeed, he had been reduced to a very slow pace. When asked why he persisted in the race he said something like this: "My country did not send me here to quit, but they sent me here to FINISH the marathon." My quotation may not be verbatim, but it contains the sentiment. It was a sentiment I shared - though it was only myself, friends, and family who were 'sending' me to this race.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
My 50-Mile Ultra Experience Part 4
Time to get back to 50-mile saga. After a couple hours of running I was still feeling good. The sun coming up made me feel much safer. I could clearly see where I was going. Miles (roughly) 15 - 30-something were thoroughly enjoyable, and I was doing well. The uphills didn't bother me. I'm good at uphill running. The downhills were a different story. These were the type of downhill running I was not used to. The ground was very uneven and put more stress on the lateral aspect of my knees than my city downhill running had accustomed me to. Still, my Nikes handled the terrain and my footstrike well. No blisters or hotspots.
In the week prior to the race I had given our church pastor some specific items for prayer. He's a runner and had expressed interest in the race and also noted he would be praying. In cases like these, I don't just say "thanks" - but I give a thoughtful response and request. Here were my specific prayer items:
There are some fast (and I mean this in the positive, athletic sense!) women out there. Before the race one of my goals was to beat the top woman. For the uninitiated, "beat" means to "run faster than" and NOT a physical beating. I'm not that type of guy. I knew you knew that, but just in case... Well, beating the top woman is often a good goal for someone at my level because beating the top overall finisher (nearly always a male) is beyond the reach of the non-pro recreational runner. Did I say "recreational?" I'm a serious runner, but in a race of this size and at the level of my current fitness I cannot expect to win the race. However, beating the top woman will mean that I'm still very good. There were some true mountain goatish women that day. True harriers. Women have been known to excel at the ultra distances - and this has been true of women in their 40's and 50's as well. In any case, I ran and chatted with a few of these trail runners that day and became less certain that I had a chance of beating the top woman. I was a newbie. I needed to run conservatively. Who knows what my body would do past the 30-something mile mark? This was the uncharted territory for me.
Shortly after the 30-mile mark (wherever that was) - my right knee started to hurt. All the lateral stress had apparently been too much. My upper leg muscles were also very thrashed from the repeated braking action needed in the many, many downhills I had encountered. The knee worried me more than the legs. Decision time.
In the week prior to the race I had given our church pastor some specific items for prayer. He's a runner and had expressed interest in the race and also noted he would be praying. In cases like these, I don't just say "thanks" - but I give a thoughtful response and request. Here were my specific prayer items:
- Continued overall health so that I arrive at the starting line healthy.
- That I don't take a wrong turn on the course - thus costing me time and also adding distance and distress.
- That I pace myself well and give my best - running the race intelligently.
- That I don't develop a running injury during the race and that I don't break down afterword.
- That I consciously run to the glory of God and not just to/for myself
At this point in the race, all five points seemed to be answered in the positive. Number five is always a bit hard to discern. I have to admit that I like recognition. I like being rewarded and praised for my efforts and performances. However, the goal is to to everything (including every footrace) to the glory of God because He is the giver of all good gifts and the moment-by-moment sustainer of not only me but the entire creation. You know, it is very easy to feel like your giving God the glory and running in oh-so-sanctified a way when your running well! It's harder when that's not the case. So far, all was well, so I was feeling pretty close with God.
In a long race (or a long day for that matter) it helps to break the journey up into segments. Aid stations are a convenient way of doing this. You always look forward to the next aid station. As I mentioned in an earlier post, my habit was take two pre-filled cups of "GuBrew" at each station. I hadn't worked out an optimal amount of fluid or food to take in during the race, but I went by feel. Since the longest run I had done before this race was a 50K (approximately 31 miles) I ran and rested conservatively, staying as much as five minutes at an aid station before starting up again. Looking back on it, I now realize that all those five minute stops could be cut to one or fewer minutes and my overall time would be better. I'll follow this plan of action next year.
There are some fast (and I mean this in the positive, athletic sense!) women out there. Before the race one of my goals was to beat the top woman. For the uninitiated, "beat" means to "run faster than" and NOT a physical beating. I'm not that type of guy. I knew you knew that, but just in case... Well, beating the top woman is often a good goal for someone at my level because beating the top overall finisher (nearly always a male) is beyond the reach of the non-pro recreational runner. Did I say "recreational?" I'm a serious runner, but in a race of this size and at the level of my current fitness I cannot expect to win the race. However, beating the top woman will mean that I'm still very good. There were some true mountain goatish women that day. True harriers. Women have been known to excel at the ultra distances - and this has been true of women in their 40's and 50's as well. In any case, I ran and chatted with a few of these trail runners that day and became less certain that I had a chance of beating the top woman. I was a newbie. I needed to run conservatively. Who knows what my body would do past the 30-something mile mark? This was the uncharted territory for me.
Shortly after the 30-mile mark (wherever that was) - my right knee started to hurt. All the lateral stress had apparently been too much. My upper leg muscles were also very thrashed from the repeated braking action needed in the many, many downhills I had encountered. The knee worried me more than the legs. Decision time.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
My 50-Mile Ultra Experience Part 3
I've been a little long-winded up until now. Let's see if I can more succinct in Part 3.
My hopes were high. The previous night I had decided upon 7 hr 30 minutes as a good finishing time goal. How naive. The first couple hours were in the dark. It was good I wasn't wearing headphones because all attention needed to be focused on the ground before me. The headlamp helped, as did running with small groups of other runners. I had several small conversations with other runners in these first couple hours. Aid Station #2 (at 8.7 miles) was the first fully-stocked station. These types of stations offered water, several types of sport drinks, PB&J sandwich squares, pretzels, cooked potato slices with salt, and a few types of high-calorie candy. In ultra-distance events, the foodstuffs that health-conscious people would usually avoid or limit are often necessary and good due to the high caloric demand and the electrolyte/sodium loss that comes with this type of endeavor. Since I already had my usual hearty breakfast, I only took a couple cups of the "GU Brew" electrolyte replacement sportdrink. It also had a moderate amount of carbohydrates, but still fairly dilute. I would make this a pattern. Every aid station I would have 2 cups of that drink. There was also Vasoline! All I had to do was ask. I liberally applied it to nipples, inner thighs, and the upper back/back of upper arms/armpit junction which can be chafed after repeated swinging of the arms. Good. At least chafing would not be a problem now.
No falls, lubed up, and all bodily systems go. It soon became light after this, and my constant feeling was: "I'm so glad to be running this 50-miler rather than working!" Beautiful views of the coast were soon available to me, I took my headlight off and held it in my hand for the remainder of the run, and turned my running cap the right-way-round. It had been backwards up until that point. I also continued to slowly work my way up, passing people one-by-one and giving the customary "good job" encouragement as I went by.
Did I mention the course had 10,059 ft of elevation gain? It also had treacherous downhills as well. At this point I was still feeling good though. How great to be a runner!
[Stay tuned for Part 4]
My hopes were high. The previous night I had decided upon 7 hr 30 minutes as a good finishing time goal. How naive. The first couple hours were in the dark. It was good I wasn't wearing headphones because all attention needed to be focused on the ground before me. The headlamp helped, as did running with small groups of other runners. I had several small conversations with other runners in these first couple hours. Aid Station #2 (at 8.7 miles) was the first fully-stocked station. These types of stations offered water, several types of sport drinks, PB&J sandwich squares, pretzels, cooked potato slices with salt, and a few types of high-calorie candy. In ultra-distance events, the foodstuffs that health-conscious people would usually avoid or limit are often necessary and good due to the high caloric demand and the electrolyte/sodium loss that comes with this type of endeavor. Since I already had my usual hearty breakfast, I only took a couple cups of the "GU Brew" electrolyte replacement sportdrink. It also had a moderate amount of carbohydrates, but still fairly dilute. I would make this a pattern. Every aid station I would have 2 cups of that drink. There was also Vasoline! All I had to do was ask. I liberally applied it to nipples, inner thighs, and the upper back/back of upper arms/armpit junction which can be chafed after repeated swinging of the arms. Good. At least chafing would not be a problem now.
No falls, lubed up, and all bodily systems go. It soon became light after this, and my constant feeling was: "I'm so glad to be running this 50-miler rather than working!" Beautiful views of the coast were soon available to me, I took my headlight off and held it in my hand for the remainder of the run, and turned my running cap the right-way-round. It had been backwards up until that point. I also continued to slowly work my way up, passing people one-by-one and giving the customary "good job" encouragement as I went by.
Did I mention the course had 10,059 ft of elevation gain? It also had treacherous downhills as well. At this point I was still feeling good though. How great to be a runner!
[Stay tuned for Part 4]
My 50-Mile Ultra Experience Part 2
I had left on time, but had entered the wrong street to my Google Maps app. I do not have a regular driving GPS, so I was constantly looking down at my IPhone to properly arrive at my destination. After a long while, I found myself at the bottom of a long narrow street. This was surely not the starting location for the event. My spirits sank as the time ticked away. I did NOT want to miss my race, but at that point it seemed likely. After retrieving an e-mail from my phone (after having gotten a signal again) I entered the correct address and arrived at the Marin Headlands Fort Barry location with 15 minutes to spare till start time. I was cutting it close, but at least my bad dreams had not come true. I had made it to the race location and would not miss the start!
Instead of waiting for the shuttle, I briskly walked the 5 or so minutes to the starting location from the designated parking area. I had forgotten to apply my Bodyglide (a wax-based anti-chafing substance) to myself earlier. Darn. I would somehow manage to do that later - or to get some Vaseline at an aid station. My first priority was getting my bag checked in. I planned on carrying my car key with me, but my warm-up pants and extra layer, along with some other personal effects I couldn't just hand off to anybody needed to be checked in for post-race pick up. The line was long. I also needed to attach my bib number to my shirt and get my headlamp out. It all seems surreal when done in the early-morning hours with such excitement in the air and anxiety in the stomach! I also needed (badly) to visit the restroom ("porta poddy"). This last need would need to be dealt with AFTER checking in my bag. For the uninitiated, let me explain that a certain churning of the bowels (I know, it's gross) often comes with pre-race excitement and anxiety. Ample time must be made to deal with this unfortunate physiological concern. I got my bag checked, bib number on, headlamp ready, and had five minutes till the race start. Runners were lining up and congregating at the starting line. Where were the porta poddies? I asked the nearest person I could find as the desperation mounted. "Up the hill" he said. I ran up the hill, did my business, and left the make-shift restroom for the race start with only one minute to spare. My shoes were only hastily laced and needed further tightening. I also had not applied the Bodyglide. It was in my bag - which had been properly checked in only minutes earlier. Oh well. At least I had arrived at the start. Even with a 50-mile run before me, I felt that most of the stress had been dealt with and surmounted. All that remained was the run, and I could do that! Within seconds, 0500 hours came and the race started. I was on my way. The shoes and body lube could be dealt with later.
[Stay tuned for Part 3]
Instead of waiting for the shuttle, I briskly walked the 5 or so minutes to the starting location from the designated parking area. I had forgotten to apply my Bodyglide (a wax-based anti-chafing substance) to myself earlier. Darn. I would somehow manage to do that later - or to get some Vaseline at an aid station. My first priority was getting my bag checked in. I planned on carrying my car key with me, but my warm-up pants and extra layer, along with some other personal effects I couldn't just hand off to anybody needed to be checked in for post-race pick up. The line was long. I also needed to attach my bib number to my shirt and get my headlamp out. It all seems surreal when done in the early-morning hours with such excitement in the air and anxiety in the stomach! I also needed (badly) to visit the restroom ("porta poddy"). This last need would need to be dealt with AFTER checking in my bag. For the uninitiated, let me explain that a certain churning of the bowels (I know, it's gross) often comes with pre-race excitement and anxiety. Ample time must be made to deal with this unfortunate physiological concern. I got my bag checked, bib number on, headlamp ready, and had five minutes till the race start. Runners were lining up and congregating at the starting line. Where were the porta poddies? I asked the nearest person I could find as the desperation mounted. "Up the hill" he said. I ran up the hill, did my business, and left the make-shift restroom for the race start with only one minute to spare. My shoes were only hastily laced and needed further tightening. I also had not applied the Bodyglide. It was in my bag - which had been properly checked in only minutes earlier. Oh well. At least I had arrived at the start. Even with a 50-mile run before me, I felt that most of the stress had been dealt with and surmounted. All that remained was the run, and I could do that! Within seconds, 0500 hours came and the race started. I was on my way. The shoes and body lube could be dealt with later.
[Stay tuned for Part 3]
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
My 50-Mile Ultra Experience Part 1
The North Face Endurance Challenge (San Francisco) held on Saturday December 3rd was my first 50-mile run. Not on that, but it was a run with tremendous elevation change and difficult terrain. I'm glad I did it - and I look forward to doing it much better next year. I will tell you about my experience as succinctly as is possible to do while still hopefully making it interesting. This is the first installment.
The night before, I drove 2 hours to my parents' house so that the three kids (mine) I brought with me could have a sleep-over at the grandparents' before coming up to the race location with Dad the next day to watch me finish. The kids had a nice, restful, long slumber...and pancakes and crafts in the morning. I on the other hand slept perhaps two out of four hours I occupied the bed of my old bedroom. The two hours were occupied with bad dreams - or perhaps one drawn-out bad dream. My dream was an ongoing bad comedy of problems encountered on the way to the race, including not being able to fine my car after having stopped at a huge and full-of-people store to purchase some necessary supply. My only relief from the dream was waking up to my IPhone alarm at 0245 hours.
I left on time, just shortly after 0300 hours. The race was scheduled to start at 0500 hours at Fort Barry in the Marin Headlands. I had my breakfast (two egg white and cheese sandwiches on whole wheat bread, 1 orange, 15 raw almonds, and three graham crackers) with me to eat while in transit, and I had of course also taken my Venti-sized coffee thermos filled with my favorite coffee in my customary precisely-measured strength to enjoy after the breakfast. I had directions, race clothes, running shoes, and warmer clothing if needed. Everything was ready and with me. My Dad had picked up my race packet - including bib number and chip - the night before, so I didn't need to worry about picking those things up race-day. So far, all systems GO...except for the sleep I had wanted. There was no way to go back in time and get back those lost hours of sleep, so I tried not to worry about it.
[Part 2 coming soon]
The night before, I drove 2 hours to my parents' house so that the three kids (mine) I brought with me could have a sleep-over at the grandparents' before coming up to the race location with Dad the next day to watch me finish. The kids had a nice, restful, long slumber...and pancakes and crafts in the morning. I on the other hand slept perhaps two out of four hours I occupied the bed of my old bedroom. The two hours were occupied with bad dreams - or perhaps one drawn-out bad dream. My dream was an ongoing bad comedy of problems encountered on the way to the race, including not being able to fine my car after having stopped at a huge and full-of-people store to purchase some necessary supply. My only relief from the dream was waking up to my IPhone alarm at 0245 hours.
I left on time, just shortly after 0300 hours. The race was scheduled to start at 0500 hours at Fort Barry in the Marin Headlands. I had my breakfast (two egg white and cheese sandwiches on whole wheat bread, 1 orange, 15 raw almonds, and three graham crackers) with me to eat while in transit, and I had of course also taken my Venti-sized coffee thermos filled with my favorite coffee in my customary precisely-measured strength to enjoy after the breakfast. I had directions, race clothes, running shoes, and warmer clothing if needed. Everything was ready and with me. My Dad had picked up my race packet - including bib number and chip - the night before, so I didn't need to worry about picking those things up race-day. So far, all systems GO...except for the sleep I had wanted. There was no way to go back in time and get back those lost hours of sleep, so I tried not to worry about it.
[Part 2 coming soon]
Friday, December 2, 2011
Countdown to Endurance Challenge
In just over twenty-four hours I'll be at the starting line for the North Face Endurance Challenge 50-mile trail run. The weather should be nice. "Nice" weather in this context means high 30's to 60F perhaps as the highest. For the most part, all my bodily systems are a "Go." A nagging minor tendon issue on the top of my left foot being the only exception. However, any discomfort from it disappears quickly once I'm warmed up. More extensive recovery for this tendon issue will have to wait until after this Saturday.
To many people, a long run like this one would seem almost an insurmountable task. Not for me. Do I say this because I'm cocky, wise-guy, or conceited? No. The fact is, peoples' psychological dispositions vary greatly - as do their more obviously physical dispositions and talents. I would find it more difficult and "hard" to do a bunch of housework or yardwork than running 50 miles. Perhaps that was admitting too much. Oh well. During my childhood and adolescent years I also found the act of talking to certain girls I liked a more difficult and challenging proposition that running a hard 2-mile race or a workout consisting of 20 X 400 meters with short recoveries. Running for me was actually a drug of sorts. A hard workout or race loosened inhibitions that had kept me from speaking or doing those things that deep-down I wanted to do. Endorphins are powerful, I guess. I know there's more to it though. Knowing oneself and what makes one tick is right good knowledge to have.
It should be a fun day tomorrow. Three of our kids will be going with me - and spending some time with the grandparents in the process. It's good to have family. The kids are looking forward to the Kids' Race - a 1K race that is scheduled for the mid afternoon. What a joy it is to have kids who, though may may not "train" in the organized sense, love to run. I look forward to watching them.
To many people, a long run like this one would seem almost an insurmountable task. Not for me. Do I say this because I'm cocky, wise-guy, or conceited? No. The fact is, peoples' psychological dispositions vary greatly - as do their more obviously physical dispositions and talents. I would find it more difficult and "hard" to do a bunch of housework or yardwork than running 50 miles. Perhaps that was admitting too much. Oh well. During my childhood and adolescent years I also found the act of talking to certain girls I liked a more difficult and challenging proposition that running a hard 2-mile race or a workout consisting of 20 X 400 meters with short recoveries. Running for me was actually a drug of sorts. A hard workout or race loosened inhibitions that had kept me from speaking or doing those things that deep-down I wanted to do. Endorphins are powerful, I guess. I know there's more to it though. Knowing oneself and what makes one tick is right good knowledge to have.
It should be a fun day tomorrow. Three of our kids will be going with me - and spending some time with the grandparents in the process. It's good to have family. The kids are looking forward to the Kids' Race - a 1K race that is scheduled for the mid afternoon. What a joy it is to have kids who, though may may not "train" in the organized sense, love to run. I look forward to watching them.
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