When the Altra Instinct came out I was psyched. Finally there was a cushioned zero drop shoe with a fantastic toe box. You can read my review of the shoe here. When I first discovered Altra, the shoe I was really looking forward to was the Lone Peak. After reaching out to Altra and telling them about my PPS they emailed and said that they would like to sponsor my attempt. They sent me a pair of the Instincts for free and gave me a discount on 2 additional pairs. I wore them for the Western States 100, the Vermont 100 and part of the Leadville 100.
As the summer wore on the release for the Lone Peaks kept getting delayed. I couldn't wait for the additional traction and protection that the shoe promised. When they finally came out my summer of racing was over. Altra Co-Owner Brian Beckstead reached out to me recently and told me that Altra would love my feedback on the shoe now that it was out. Originally they had promised to send me a pair for free when they were available. For some reason, perhaps because my race schedule for the year was complete, Brian said that I could buy a pair at a discount. At this point I have been using several other shoes as my go-to trail shoes, most notably the New Balance MT110's and Brooks Pure Grits. I really did not need to buy another pair of shoes, but I had been waiting for these shoes to come out for almost 6 months and I do love the Instincts. So I decide to take Brian up on his offer and bought a pair.
Notice how hard I'm pushing on the heel. The sole feels like it's made out of steel. It doesn't flex.
For comparisson, my Instincts with similar (if not less) pressure applied at the same point.
When they arrived I was super surprised at how stiff they were. The addition of a rock plate and the additional stack height had turned the familiar shoe into a very rigid one. I ordered the shoes a 1/2 size smaller on Brian's recommendation and I'm glad I did, as they fit well. Once again, the toe box is excellent. Nice and wide with plenty room to splay my toes. But wearing them around the house the felt noticeably stiffer than the Instincts. I put them in the closet where they stayed for a while.
Much better traction than the Instinct
Finally I decided to give them a whirl and took them out for a 16 mile jaunt. Within the first 100 feet I knew that they were a different animal than the Instincts. My foot felt like it was trapped in a container, rather than being part of an instrument meant to enhance running. My heel was rubbing up and down against the rear of the shoe with every step because the sole was so stiff that the shoe wasn't flexing with my steps.
Great Toebox
As the run continued onto the trails the shoe felt better, but still too stiff. My foot had no ground feel whatsoever and the lack of lateral flexibility was frustrating. The increased traction (over the Instincts) was a noticeable improvement. One thing I noticed right away was that the rudder type thing on the back of the shoe was rubbing my opposite calf a lot and became rather irritating. If I use these shoes again I am going to cut it off first. I can't see that it serves any purpose.
Calf hair remover....
Eventually I ran through a stream and discovered another issue. The shoe doesn't drain. More specifically, the insole is made of a squishy rubber that seems to absorb water like a diaper and then holds it against the bottom of your foot for the rest of the run. It never dries out. My feet were wet for the entire run, even though I ran through the water within the first few miles. This would be a fatal flaw for me if I was going to run 100 miles in them. I can't imagine how bad my blisters would be.
Honestly, I'm disappointed. I love my Instincts and had such high hopes for this shoe. It is so over built for my needs and feels just like the shoes I've been so happy to get away from since moving towards more minimal shoes. Here's how it ends up for me:
Pros -
Excellent shaped last
Tons of toe room
Zero drop
Huge amount of protection from rocks, etc.
Con's -
Stiff sole
Stiff upper
Doesn't drain
Doesn't move with my foot
If you are looking for a Sherman Tank off road shoe with a zero drop this is your shoe. For me, it's just to much shoe and lacks the elegance that I'm looking for in an off road shoe.
This is what I had been focused on since the first time I looked into the Bear 100 in Logan UT.
Course profile for The Bear 100
Of all the 100 mile races I've done, I've never tackled an elevation profile like this one. I was terrified that I wouldn't be in good enough shape to handle it. Since this was the last race in my "Potentially Painful Summer" I really wanted to do well. My A Goal was to break 24 hours, a task that I knew would not be easy.
I felt very rested from Leadville, which was five weeks ago. I had many very good runs, and felt like I had lots of "pep in my step" on my trail runs. I was refreshed because the bugs were finally gone from the woods and almost every run had been on trails. It is amazing how much less the trails beat you up than the roads. My last long run was at Pats Peak where I did a bunch of loops and felt awesome. I left Wednesday afternoon full of confidence.
I wouldn't have Amy and Barry, my supercrew, for this race and that worried me a bunch. They know almost by telepathy what I need at these races and take awesome care of me. My original plan was to just make drop bags and do my best with no crew or pacer. But thanks to Facebook an old friend of mine, Scott Johnson, whom I hadn't seen since grade school reached out to me and offered to help.
I warned him multiple times how much being a crew member sucked, but he insisted that he was into it. His boss does triathalons and he helps there. He figured it would be kind of the same thing, just for WAY longer.
Scott, whom I hadn't seen for almost 30 years!!
I flew into Salt Lake City UT on Wednesday and stayed overnight in a hotel near the airport. In the morning I saw Scott for the first time in 29 years. After grabbing breakfast we headed to the local running store where I picked up a new pair of Hoka's just in case my foot got worse. Oh yeah, I forgot to put in that little tidbit. In the week before the race I noticed that my left foot felt like it was bruised under the forefoot. I figured that I must have stepped on a rock and bruised it, but it wasn't getting any better. On one of my visits to my PT, Brett Copeland, I casually mentioned it to him. After he examined my foot he got a very worried look on his face and immediately sent me to get x-rays. He suspected that I had either a stress reaction or a stress fracture and wanted to see if he could see anything.
He looked at the x-rays and couldn't see anything but told me that it didn't mean I didn't have a stress fracture. He told me to be carefull and mindfull of the pain and asked me to keep him posted. This sat fairly heavily on my mind because the next day I ran 4 miles and it started hurting only 2 miles into the run.
I tried not to worry about it. Sometimes our minds have a way of making a big deal out of nothing and I didn't want to focus more energy on it. I got the Hokas because of the awesome cushioning and hoped that if I had a problem they would help me get through the race.
After that we drove two hours to Logan where we found our hotel. After prepping my drop bags we headed over to the RD's house which was actually a fish hatchery. We dropped off our bags and then attended the pre-race meeting. The only person I knew at this race was Steve Pero, a long time Ultra runner whom I hadn't seen in a couple of years.
The meeting was so cool. Totally old school. No weigh in. No media. No hype. To get your race number you found the bag on the grass that had your number on it. I loved it. Scott and I grabbed dinner afterwards and I headed to an early sleep. Scott and I were getting along great. It was like we never lost touch. Say what you want about Facebook, but the fact that I could reconnect with an old friend whom I might never had seen again is a result of the incredible global community that they have created.
The morning of the race was beautiful. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was comfortably cool. The race starts out by heading up a paved road for about a mile then hits the trail and goes up from there. Look at the race profile. As we headed up the trail in the dark I started to realize that it was not as steep as I expected. It was kind of cool. Everybody was marching up the moutain and almost nothing was being said. All you could hear was breathing. I'm not that social at these events, I tend to just focus on what I'm trying to do. It was nice and peaceful and I found that my spirits were extremely high. When the sun finally started to rise I could see that we were climbing up a beautiful singletrack surrounded by fall foliage. Now this is what I came for. My legs felt strong, my mind felt calm. Perfect.
On all my previous 100's I carried my voice recorder. Today I decided that I would film videos with my camera so everybody could see what I was going through rather than just hear it. At 2 hours and 36 minutes, right after my first stop at mile 10 or so, I recorded that my foot felt good and it was warming up. During the stop I quickly grabbed an extra gel, at a handfull of nuts, refilled my handheld bottle and was off. I spent less than 2 minutes there. "So far so good" I said as I continued on my trek.
The views were incredible.
At 10:15, after 4 hours and 15 minutes, I pulled into the Leathan Hollow aid station, 19.66 miles into the race. This was the first crewed aid station and the first time that I saw Scott. For his first time ever witnessing an event like this, let along crewing, Scott did great at the first stop. He changed the bladder in my pack and replaced all my needed food with incredible efficiency. I drank a Boost, ate some food at the aid station table while tended to my pack. It was an awesome stop. Total time in the aid station was 2 minutes. Not bad for a rookie!
I headed out down a dirt road that was fairly level and shortly was at the next aid station at mile 22.5. I really don't understand why this station was here. Perhaps because the next one was so far away. Right out of the aid station I started to climb and climb. The sun was now out in full force and I quickly went from doing great to feeling like something was very wrong. At 5 hours and 42 minutes into the race I recorded that it was hot and I was completely exhausted. I was in a bad place and it was way to early to feel this way. I couldn't seem to find the motivation and it felt like there was no meaning to being out here starting to suffer already.
The next time I took out my camera things were not any better. It was less than 30 miles into the race and I said that I felt like I did at mile 70 of Leadville. I wasn't able to run and I didn't know what was the matter. I didn't know if it was my head or my body. I said that "I sure as hell hope it's my body. I'd hate to think it is just my head". I was trying to get my head back to just enjoying the day and the scenery, but the idea of possibly walking for 70 miles was incredibly unappealing. I was already starting to think about dropping and I was fighting to keep the thought out of my head. I was really worried at how I was going to tell everybody who has been so supportive of me that I just didn't "Man up" and finish. The thought of a sub 24 hour buckle to add to my collection was long gone. It was early in the say and I was trying not to admit that I was already in survival mode.
At 6 hours and 56 minutes into the race I had just left the 30 mile aid station. Lo and behold, I was starting to come around. Scott got me quickly in and out again and I changed into my Hokas. The terrain had been much rockier than I had expected and my feet were starting to get sore in the NB MT110's that I was wearing. I really didn't want to change out of those shoes, I love how they feel and I didn't even have the beginning of any blisters. I had been though several small streams and they drained the water really well. I knew that it was a risk putting on my new Hoka Bondi B's, but they offered so much protection I figured why not?
The pattern at the Bear is that you climb forever, reach a peak then descend forever. I had been feeling destroyed on the climbs and then slowly coming back to life on the downhills. One thing that was new for me was the descents went on for miles. It was hard on the quads, but I wasn't having trouble with them. I was however having trouble with the heat. I've been to some hot races and the heat has never bothered me before. For some reason, it was today.
At 8 hours 45 minutes into the race I had just left the mile 36.6 aid station. Once again, I wasn't doing that well. I was having a hard time eating. Everything just was too sweet and combined with the heat I was having a hard time choking down anything. I was tired, not feeling good and once again my thoughts returned to asking why? Why was I out here? I didn't have anything left to prove to anybody, including myself. I just didn't have any motivation and was tired. I was hoping that I would just wake up and things would get better, but it just wasn't happening.
To try to change my mood I started taking pictures of myself. I was hoping that if I found my sense of humor I might pull out of my funk.
Sad Nate
Grumpy Nate
Alas, it was not to be. At the 9 1/2 hour mark I sat down in the brushes beside the trail and recorded this.
This was my moment of truth. At this very moment I decided that I was done. I figure that I was somewhere around 41 miles into the race. I still had to go 5.5 miles to get to the next aid station. I was traveling somewhere around 2-3 miles and hour and this is the view as far as the eye could see.
Although beautiful, it was totally overwhelming. There was nobody around me, no end to the trail in sight and almost no shade to be found. As I continued to walk for another hour I started to realize that I hadn't been eating anything. Everything I had with me was sweet. I couldn't tolerate them. The sports drink in my bottle was hot and disgusting so the only thing I could do was sip the Gatorade in my hydration pack as it was still somewhat less than boiling in temperature.
At some point I realized that I had an EFS flask in the back of my pack. I have never used it but had read that a lot of people used it. I bought some to keep with me just in case. Well, this was that just in case moment. As I took the first swig of it I couldn't believe how bad the stuff was. It tasted like Vicks cough syrup. The bottle is 4 or 5 oz. I managed to get most of it down. In a few moments the trail dumped out to a dirt road that was gradual downhill. I started to run again which felt great. Perhaps I could actually pull out of this tailspin I was in. At the bottom of the hill, right as a trail started, I was overwhelmed with nausea.
I actually started to chuckle. Perfect, just perfect. I took out my camera and began to film. Luckily I didn't actually throw up, but there was a few minutes that I was sure I was going to.
Eventually, after 11 hours and 15 minutes I made it to the aid station 46.6 miles in where Scott was waiting for me. I told him that I was done. He asked if I was sure, which I was. I went to the scoring desk and said "522, dropping". Without so much as a "are you sure?" they said ok. And with that I had now officially quit my first 100 mile race.
I learned more from this race than all the other successful ones this year. I realized that you can't get anything in this world unless you really want it. If you lose your desire for something it just won't happen. My body certainly could have finished this race. My head didn't. At that time I just could not find the reason to keep pushing on.
I've read from many other Ultrarunners that you better have your head ready before you tackle one of these things. Now I finally know what they are talking about. They are never easy and when you have to dig deep you need to have that driving reason front and center in your mind. I will use this lesson in so many aspects of my life before I start something now. When a person is focused and motivated they can do anything. When the focus isn't there it becomes almost impossible.
I was pleasantly surprised when I found myself gazing at the mountains as I drove from Logan to Salt Lake City the next day. After struggling so much in the race, all I wanted to do was pull over and go for a run on those mountain trails. At that moment I realized that I had forgotten how much I love to run. Perhaps if I had just remembered that during the race things would have turned out differently.
I was surprised at how calm I was. For the last few days I was actually itching to run. Having a full five weeks between races had been much better to me than the short three weeks between Western States and Vermont. I felt rested and ready to go.
Last year I flew out a week ahead of time to acclimate. Since I really didn't have any trouble with the altitude I decided to just come out on Thursday this year. Amy and I took a bumpy flight from Manchester to Denver where we met my brother Barry at the airport. I was really psyched to have both of them as my crew. This would be the fourth time they have crewed me together and they know exactly how to take care of me.
So here I am, at 4 in the morning, lined up with 650 other runners about to head down the hill on sixth street in Leadville Colorado. As we took off I felt elated. My body felt strong, but I couldn't help but wonder how I would hold up. Three 100 milers in three months. At what point would my body decide enough is enough? Or would I actually start adapting and getting stronger? Since this is all new to me I had no idea.
New Balance MT110's
As we headed down the road and onto the dirt road towards the lake I concentrated on keeping my heart rate low and my stride light. I had taken a big risk and started the race in a pair of New Balance MT110 early production shoes that I had just received a week before. The longest run I had used them on was 7 miles. I also started in a new type of sock, the Wright Sock, a double layer thinner sock. There is a very common warning that all runners give each other. Don't ever try something new on race day. I threw caution to the wind as I needed to try to do something different to fix the constant blister problem that I have with 100 mile runs. Plus, I absolutely love these shoes. My only concern was that they wouldn't offer me enough cushioning for the full 100 miles. I really didn't think it was that much of a risk because my crew had my Altra's and Dyrmax socks ready for me at each aid station in case I needed them. My plan was to just wear them until there was a problem and then change back into what I knew from there.
I made my way around the lake feeling great. As the trail dumped out onto the road into the first aid station, Mayqueen (mile 13) I looked at my watch and was shocked to see 1:56. Holy crap. Last year I pulled in at 2:08 and I was strong last year!! I ran through the timing section while looking for my crew. They had done the same thing they did last year, bought a bright orange bicycle flag so I could pick them out. It was dawn and the crowd was very loud. I couldn't see them! I ran all the way to the end of the crews and had to turn around and go back to find them.
My mood quickly turned from elation of being so much quicker to slight panic of not being able to find my crew. Every body kept asking me what I needed as I was running backwards against the crowd. I finally saw them, standing three people deep. They seemed shocked to see me. They had been listening to the announcers who had been calling out the runners numbers, but they just didn't hear my number called.
I have to admit, I wasn't in a very good mood at that point. As I grumbled and Amy refilled my gels, Barry struggled to get my water bottle back into the handheld. I grabbed it from him and did it myself. I knew I was behaving like a child, but I was frustrated. As I bolted out of the aid station I realized that I still had my headlight and my winter had on. Damn... That meant I needed to carry the headlight for the next 10 miles until I saw them again at the Fish Hatchery.
As I headed into the Colorado Trail I mellowed out. I still felt awesome and I knew that having my hat and headlight on was no big deal. I forgot all about them and went about running up the rocky climb to the road towards Powerline. As the sun came up I got an incredible view of Silver Lake and then started my decent down Powerline. A few runners passed me as I was being careful and deliberate. I wanted to be sure not to blow my quads out as there was lots of downhill running still to come.
Before long I was out on the road heading to Fish Hatchery, which now has been renamed to "outbound". The station is about 23 miles into the race and I left at a hair under 4 hours. For the next four miles the course is a flat paved road and you can see almost the entire 4 miles in front of you. It is a mental drain to run this section, but I knew that I had to run every step of it because this is where you make up the time that is lost on some of the tough, slow climbs. I put my head down and went to work. In my voice recorder I stated that I felt really good and that I hoped that things would stay this way.
At Vermont I fell apart at mile 21, or about three hours in. I was hoping that I wouldn't have a low point like that and so far so good. It wasn't much after 5 hours that I hit the 30 mile mark. I knew that I was moving well but I didn't know where I was in relationship to last year. The weather was beautiful and I was enjoying the run, even if I was feeling a little low on energy.
Taking the time to get the grit out of my shoes really paid off
At 7 hours and 2 minutes I had just left Twin Lakes, Mile 39.5. My crew switched me from two handheld bottles to my Nathan backpack and I was off to tackle Hope Pass. I was still wearing the NB MT110's and I was psyched at how good they felt. No blisters yet and my feet felt great. The only downside was that I had to take the shoes off at each stop and remove the grit from them. It didn't take long to do and it seemed worth it for what a great fit and feel they had.
As I crossed through the freezing cold streams and headed out towards Hope I was noticing that I was starting to get tired. Not really a big surprise, as running 40+ miles in the high elevation Rockies is sure to make almost anybody tired. It was now hot and sunny without a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day to tackle Hope pass.
At 8 hours and 20 minutes into the race I pulled out my recorder as I passed by a beautiful babbling brook on the way up Hope. I said "This thing is a KILLER!, I'm not even at the tree line yet and I am TIRED!!, Holy crap, this thing just keeps going up and up and up. I am really worked over and I still have the steepest part to go. My God, I'm getting worked over here...."
Audio of me struggling up Hope Pass
It was at this point that I started to notice something that had me very concerned. The tendinitis in my ankle was really starting to flare up. It hadn't bothered me for months and now only 45 miles into the race it was throbbing. In the past when this happened it got worse and worse until it eventually stopped me. I was scared that I was going to have to deal with this pain on top of another 55 more miles of running.
The Llamas at Hopeless
At the Hopeless Aid station (mile 45) I quickly drank some broth, filled my one handheld bottle and headed out to tackle the last 600 feet of the climb. At this point you are above the tree line and the terrain has turned from beautiful woods to a rocky wasteland. It looks like the moon. The elevation here is somewhere around 11,500 and the top of Hope is 12,500.
I got to the top of Hope at exactly 9 hours. I took a few seconds to look around, then started to run down the steep switchbacks that lead down to Winfield. I noticed that there were some clouds forming and I knew that I needed to get my but moving if I wanted to get back over Hope before the typical later afternoon storms blew in. Traveling down the backside of Hope was a blast. The top part of the trail is rocky switchbacks that are runnable. About halfway down the terrain gets very rocky and the last mile or so goes back under the cover of trees, but is very, very steep.
As I was heading down the leaders were just about done with the return trip climb. This is where I get to see how far behind the leaders I was. At this point I was at least 3 hours behind them. Amazing. As I passed a LaSportiva sponsored runner he looked up from the ground and said, "Hey, where did you get those shoes!?!" He was the only one who noticed all day.
As I got to the bottom of the pass and headed out on the dirt road towards Winfield I couldn't help but think that it was almost a carbon copy of last years race for me. The weather was almost exactly the same, I was running in the same spots, I was walking in the same spots and I was roughly at the same exact time. The run up the road seemed easier than last year, and a little less dusty too. The sun was beating down and I was starting to get tired.
At Winfield
I pulled into Winfield at 2:15, or 10 hours and 15 minutes into the race. I weighed in at the medical check to find that I was only 2 pounds lighter than my start weight, which was a good sign. I was keeping up with my eating and drinking. I went over to Amy and Barry's area to eat, drink and restock up my hydration pack. I sat in the chair to clean out my shoes and then realized how tired I was. The sun was beating down on me as Amy put some sunscreen on my back. Barry held an umbrella over me and that helped a lot. I ate a Turkey and Avocado sandwich, drank a Vespa and took one 500mg Tylenol (first one of the day). I spent about 10 minutes there and then it was time to go. I really didn't want to leave. Amy walked with me to the end of the aid station and down the road a little bit. Just as she had turned around I remembered that I wanted to start listening to music. I called back to her asking if she had put it in my pack and she said that she didn't. Oh well, no biggie I thought. I can always just pick it up when I see them the next time.
I ran for the next couple miles down the road and I had just taken the left turn through the parking lot that leads to the beginning of the climb when I heard Amy yelling at me. She had come back with my Ipod!! Sweet!! It was so nice having it and seeing her again so quickly. Now I was ready to rock back up Hope.
Alas, it was not to be. I was doing no Rockin! Last year this is the place that I really started to fade. This year was no different. This climb is so hard and steep. I was stumbling up it, but unlike last year when a lot of people went by me, almost everybody around me was in the same condition. Most worse. Within a mile I had seen people just stopping dead to sit down and others puking their brains out. The guy right in front of my threw up so violently he looked like a fire hydrant. I happened to notice that it was all very clear and I thought to myself, how much water did that guy have to drink to throw all that up? As I passed him I said, "there you go buddy, now you'll feel much better". He grunted at me as I passed and puked again.
I climbed up for what seemed like forever and finally made it to the top at 4:22pm, or 12 hours and 22 minutes into the race. That means that it took me 3 hours and 22 minutes to get from the top of Hope on the outbound to the top on the inbound, which is only about 11 miles!! It was now starting to rain. I thought about putting my Jacket on, but decided to just get moving. I ran down most of the switchbacks to the Hopeless aid station. I stopped and had two cups of noodle soup and a little coke. There were still lots and lots of people coming up Hope and most of them didn't look so good. Some of the runners who were on the way back inbound didn't look so good either.
I was looking forward to this section all day. After all that climbing it is really nice to open up the stride and let it rip. I still didn't have a single blister and that helped my mood considerably, even though I was tired. I cranked up the tunes and let gravity do it's thing. I was singing at the top of my lungs as I FLEW down the trail. I passed a ton of runners and their pacers and just threw caution to the wind. I was having a great time and looking forward to my usual "second wind" that I get as the day wears on.
As I was going through the wet fields heading to Twin Lakes I noticed that I wasn't running as good as last year. Last year this is where I started to get really strong. Now I was struggling to run. I was running behind David Clark and his film crew was running behind me with the camera at our calf level getting footage. I didn't feel like running, but the camera crew was incentive to keep running strong. I pulled into Twin Lakes, 60.5 miles into the race, at 5:44pm. Once again I cleaned out my shoes and switched socks. Amy had a bowl of rice with avocado in it and it was delicious. I ate as much of it as I could. I spent 11 minutes there and then headed towards the short steep climb out.
Amy talking me through a tough patch at Twin Lakes
Amy walked with me. I told her that I wasn't having fun anymore. I was tired. She said that she knew that I wasn't moving as well as last year and that bummed me out. I asked her where she though I was, if I was even in the top 100. She thought I said am I below the top 100 so she said no. I said really? I'm not even in the top 100? That bums me out really bad. Then she looked at me and explained that she meant that I was not OUT of the top 100, I was probably in the top 50 or so still. I gave her a big hug and went back to work. Thank God she explained that to me. I would have spent the next several hours feeling bad for myself.
It turns out that I spent the next several hours just feeling bad. The climb out of Twin Lakes is a long one but once you finally reach the top there is some beautiful single track on the Colorado Trail. It was at this point that I realized that I was having a hard time running. I was running out of energy and I was slowing down. At mile 70 I pulled out my voice recorder and said that I didn't think that I was going to get the big buckle. I couldn't do the math and thought that I only had 7 hours to get the big buckle. I was 16 hours into the run. I eventually realized that I still had 9 hours and decided that I had to harden the f' up and get to it.
I pulled into Treeline, mile 74 at 8:28. It had been dark for about 10 minutes. Last year I got here in the light and it was just getting dark as I left. I couldn't believe that I was only 20-30 minutes behind last year as I was feeling considerably worse. I spent 9 minutes there and headed towards the lonely 4 mile stretch of road towards Fish Hatchery.
I managed to run about 2.5 miles of the 4 miles but by the time I got to the station I was super tired. I changed out of my shoes into my Altras. I still had no blisters, but now that I was walking more the New Balance's were starting to feel thin underfoot and I wanted more cushioning. I was now 76.5 miles into the race and was getting worried. I left the station at 9:44pm and I simply could not run. I only had a little over 7 hours to cover 23.5 miles and I have never been a very strong walker. On top of that, the dreaded Sugarloaf climb was coming up. I knew that I had to cover at least 4 miles an hour to get the big buckle and that just didn't seem like it would happen after I factored in that huge climb.
As I got to the start of Sugarloaf (powerline) I just put my head down and kicked ass. I passed a few people and hoped that when I got to the top I would finally be able to run again. From the top it is mostly downhill and last year I flew through that section. When I finally reached the top I realized that I had made good time and tried to run. I couldn't. I mean, I just could not run. I started to get cold and put on my jacket. Again, I started to get really worried. My A-Goal for this year has been to buckle at all the races. So far I had accomplished that. Last year getting the big buckle had been relatively easy, this year it wasn't feeling so. I wasn't worried about finishing. The only way I wasn't going to finish is if I slowed down radically or had an injury. Even then I vowed that the only way I would quit would be if I missed a cut-off.
Sugarloaf (powerlines) in the daylight. This goes on for almost 3 miles
When I got to the mile or so long stretch before the Colorado trail I finally ran. I passed a few people who had passed me earlier and I thought "finally, I am getting my second wind". It wasn't easy to run, but I hoped that as I did it more I would loosen up. I ran down a small portion of the Colorado trail but from that point I didn't run one more single step of the entire race.
I got to the Mayqueen outbound aid station, mile 86.5 at 12:40. Now I was an hour behind last year and I couldn't run. I kept doing the math. I had 13.5 miles to go and 4:20 to get the big buckle. I can do this. Even walking. I put my head down and walked as fast as I could. A ton of people passed me as I made my way around the lake. I tried not to let it bum me out. At this point I didn't care what place I finished in. I just wanted to cross that line in under 25 hours.
It took me a little more than 1.5 hours to get to the boat ramp, the unofficial aid station between Mayqueen and the finish. My understanding of the course has always been that the boat ramp is about 6 miles past Mayqueen. I realized that if I could keep this pace up I could get the buckle. I don't know why I thought it, but I kept thinking that it was only about 6 more miles to go. I walked hard. My hip flexor hurt. I now had blisters and they hurt. I was so tired when I stopped it felt like the ground was moving. A few times when I got off the trail to let people by I completely lost my balance just trying to stand still. I had stopped eating. And the only thing I cared about was keeping moving forward as fast as I could.
I got to the dirt road ("the boulevard") heading back into town and turned off my headlamp. The half moon was beautiful and the sky was clear with only a few clouds. I couldn't believe how lucky we were. The forecast had called for thunderstorms. I was beat up and exhausted but I had the bit between my teeth and was going to get than damn buckle.
At the first road intersection I couldn't see where to go so I asked a lady who was parked there which way to go. After she showed me I asked her how much further I had. She said about 5 miles. 5 MILES!!!?? I said "NO, can't be, the boat ramp is only 6 miles and I was there a couple miles ago". I must have caught her off guard with the quickness of my answer, or maybe she was just tired, but she then said to me, "YES, I've done this race 8 times and the boat ramp is 8 miles from the end, YOUR WRONG". It took everything I had not to call her an arrogant bitch. Knowing that I was in a pretty raw state, I decided it was best just to ignore her and get out of there.
It took a lot of wind out of my sails. I can't remember how much time I had left at that point but I remember saying out loud "I'm not going to make it". There was nothing I could do but to just keep going as fast as I could. I tried to run, but once again I could only go a few steps. I've never not been able to run before. It was frustrating.
It wasn't too much later that I turned onto 6th street and finally realized that I was going to make it. People along the street didn't even realize I was a runner because I was walking. It's funny, but running down that street in the morning seemed to take about 3 minutes. Walking up it took me forever!! As I approached the finish line Amy appeared with a huge smile. I walked it in with her and crossed the line with her at my side. 24 hours and 34 minutes in 74th place. Merelee placed the finishers medal on my neck and I was done. It was a very anticlimactic finish to an incredible day, but my A-Goal for the Potentially Painful Summer was still intact. I got the big buckle!!
Amy and I at the finish
I learned so much that day. I had to learn to be patient. These races aren't always going to be about running towards the front. Sometimes you just don't have your best day. But I was very proud of myself for not ever giving up. In having pride in finishing what I started to do, regardless of what the result was. Once again I owe everything to the support I received from Amy and Barry. Thank you both from the bottom of my heart.
Its hard to believe that it's been almost three weeks since I've written anything. It is even harder to believe that in only 2 weeks I'll be toeing the line for another 100 mile race. Last year Leadville was my only 100 and I absolutely loved it. The town is cool, the people were nice and the course wasn't nearly as tough as all the hype had me believing. I feel much less stressed about doing the race than last year, even though my body has been through a lot more. Last year I was well rested and trained and I finished in a little over 23 hours. This year, who knows? It would be nice to get a sub-hour buckle again, but I'll settle for anything that is an official finish (under 30 hours).
I recovered really well from the VT100. It was actually strange. I had almost no soreness and was able to show up bright and early Monday for work without the usual "crab walk" that usually happens. The week after VT I ran 29 miles, the next week 54 miles and this week was a hair under 60. The running streak is still alive too. As of today I have run 223 days in a row for a total of 2379 miles. I think that if I get to one year I'll take a day off and kill the streak. It is becoming a "thing" and I don't want it to turn into something that I "have" to do.
Last Sunday I ran the "Mansfield Loop" with an incredible group from Vt. It is a 26 mile loop that has everything from trails to fire roads to rocky trails on "the chin" at Mount Mansfield. Along with my coach, Jack Pilla, there was Aliza Lapierre, Nick Yardley, Todd Archambault, Serena Wilcox, Scott and Joyce Holsten and Bob Ayers, Jr. I was actually nervous to run with this group, even though they are all friends of mine. They are a speedy group and I haven't been feeling so speedy lately, just tired.
Speedy group, taking a break.
After 12 miles we were at the base of the Mt. Mansfield access road. It is a steep 4.5 mile auto road with no breaks. I got about 1/2 a mile up it and just blew up. I was completely wiped out. My legs wouldn't move and I just couldn't run.
Much steeper than it looks
I felt terrible and was worried about being "that guy" who everybody had to wait for. I realized that we were at about 3 hours into the run, which was exactly the same time I blew up at the VT100. About halfway up Nick saw that I was struggling and hung back and walked with me. This was the first time I've really had the chance to talk with him and it really helped. He offered to run with me back to the parking lot when we got to the top, as I had absolutely no idea how to get back.
When we got to the top the entire group was hanging around chatting and there was no pressure to hurry up and continue. Jack gently refused to let me leave and after eating and taking a rest I decided to continue. As we started the more rocky trail and we switched to a faster hike/occasional run I felt better. The rest of the run was a blast and the views from the top of Mansfield were incredible. After making it back to the parking lot we took a quick dip and all met at the local store for sandwiches and ice creams. The total trip took 6.5 hours and was a blast.
View from the top of Mt. Mansfield
Todd coming down one of the ladders
This last week we spent at the beach in Ogunquit Maine. Since I'm not much of a beach goer I spent most of the early part of the days riding my bike and going for short runs. I discovered some great roads right outside of town and really enjoyed riding. Right now I'm having a little bit of a hard time finding the motivation to run. The biking really helps break it up a bit. In the evenings we had a blast goofing around, going to nice restaurants and partaking in a drink or two.
Max
Izzy
Today for my long run Jack had instructed me to run 30 miles of "Big Hills". He wanted me to do some mountain hiking/running to help prepare me for the upcoming race. I couldn't find anybody who wanted to join me for a Pemi-loop of in the presi's so I decided to go to Pats Peak.
I've posted here before about running there. The Mountain Bike course is 5.15 miles and each loop has about 1000 ft of elevation. Not as tough as the White Mountains, but I figured it would do. The plan was to do 6 loops. I have never done more than 4 so I knew it would be a big undertaking. I started off well, running the entire first loop, but I quickly knew that it wasn't in me to do the full pull. I ended up doing 3.5 loops plus a power hike up the steep access road. It came to a little more than 20 miles and took me almost 4 hours. I called it a day and for the first time in a long time I actually listened to my body and didn't push it.
So its time to taper, rest my tired body and get ready to take on the altitude in Colorado. Part three of the Potentially Painful Summer, here I come!
Like every other person who is running the Western States, I'm counting down the days. I ended up this week at 63 miles and I am ready for the taper. Over the last 8 weeks I have run the highest mileage weeks I have ever done in training and I put in 424 miles in May. That's the most I've ever run in a month. My yearly total as of today is up to 1844, which just three years ago would have been close to my total for the entire year.
The big question for me heading into my first 100 of the year is, "has my training been specific enough?". Just putting in the miles doesn't mean that I am going to be prepared as much as I need to be. The other thing I'm struggling with is getting my head fixed on a certain goal. Normally I train intensely so I can do good at one 100 mile race per year. When that race comes, I go as hard as I can. With my Potentially Painful Summer looming I need to decide if I am just going to see if I can survive or if I should race hard. On one hand it would be very refreshing to just go along for the adventure with the only goal of finishing all the races. The reality is that doesn't exactly fit my personality. I better figure it out soon because it is very important to know what your intentions are when you start one of these things.
Sub 24 Hour Silver Buckle
Here is what I think at this point. My first goal is just to finish. No matter what happens to me I need to finish this so I can start this big goal. The other goal is to get a sub-24 buckle. I have never finished a 100 in more that 24 hours. Hopefully this won't be the first.
