Donald Buraglio and Michael Dove's Blog, page 5
August 17, 2012
Dateline: Leadville
It’s one thing to read about Leadville and prepare for
Leadville … but it’s an entirely different feeling to actually arrive in
Leadville.
Once you’re here, there isn’t anything else you can do other
than to soak in the charm of the town – and in my case, there’s nothing I can
really say that I haven’t analyzed to death here already. So I’ll just share some photos and leave you
with information on how to track the race if you’re extremely bored this weekend.
If you ever wonder why Leadville is often described as a
one-street town … here you go.
A view from Harrison Street (the main drag pictured previously) looking down 6th Street, which is the first and
last mile of the race. I couldn’t help
but notice that it’s almost all downhill on the way out. Which means … nevermind. I don’t want to think about it.
If you’re looking for the Best Wild West Saloon in America,
look no further.
Apparently while Leadville’s men are getting rowdy in the
saloon, its women are out climbing mountains in Sunday dresses. Or something like that.
Look closely at the crowd hanging outside the pre-race
meeting hall: Hey, is that Anton Krupicka? I
never know what to do when I see people I admire: take their picture from afar
like some crazed stalker, or actually go up and say hi.
In this case, I did both.
I’m glad I did, because Anton’s super cool. I hope he crushes this race tomorrow.
As for me, I’m just hoping to stay ahead of cutoffs and make
it back to 6th and Harrison within 30 hours. Since I'm not one of the leaders, it may be difficult to track my progress, as the Leadville site doesn't have any resource posted as of tonight. The best overall coverage will be on Bryon Powell's iRunFar website, but I'm not sure what kind of updates he'll have on mid-to-back of pack runners. If you need it, my bib number is #313; it’s a palindrome, which the check-in guy
told me was good luck – then again, he may have just been trying to distract me
from the fact that it has a thirteen in it.
But seriously, find something better to do with your weekend than
staring at a computer screen checking up on me.
I’ll post a result here as soon as possible after the race, so come on
back Sunday night sometime to find out if I made it.
With that, there’s nothing left for me to say – and nothing
left to do but to do it. It’s finally go
time at Leadville.
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
Leadville … but it’s an entirely different feeling to actually arrive in
Leadville.
Once you’re here, there isn’t anything else you can do other
than to soak in the charm of the town – and in my case, there’s nothing I can
really say that I haven’t analyzed to death here already. So I’ll just share some photos and leave you
with information on how to track the race if you’re extremely bored this weekend.
If you ever wonder why Leadville is often described as a
one-street town … here you go.
A view from Harrison Street (the main drag pictured previously) looking down 6th Street, which is the first and
last mile of the race. I couldn’t help
but notice that it’s almost all downhill on the way out. Which means … nevermind. I don’t want to think about it.
If you’re looking for the Best Wild West Saloon in America,
look no further.
Apparently while Leadville’s men are getting rowdy in the
saloon, its women are out climbing mountains in Sunday dresses. Or something like that.
Look closely at the crowd hanging outside the pre-race
meeting hall: Hey, is that Anton Krupicka? I
never know what to do when I see people I admire: take their picture from afar
like some crazed stalker, or actually go up and say hi.
In this case, I did both.
I’m glad I did, because Anton’s super cool. I hope he crushes this race tomorrow.
As for me, I’m just hoping to stay ahead of cutoffs and make
it back to 6th and Harrison within 30 hours. Since I'm not one of the leaders, it may be difficult to track my progress, as the Leadville site doesn't have any resource posted as of tonight. The best overall coverage will be on Bryon Powell's iRunFar website, but I'm not sure what kind of updates he'll have on mid-to-back of pack runners. If you need it, my bib number is #313; it’s a palindrome, which the check-in guy
told me was good luck – then again, he may have just been trying to distract me
from the fact that it has a thirteen in it.
But seriously, find something better to do with your weekend than
staring at a computer screen checking up on me.
I’ll post a result here as soon as possible after the race, so come on
back Sunday night sometime to find out if I made it.
With that, there’s nothing left for me to say – and nothing
left to do but to do it. It’s finally go
time at Leadville.
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
August 15, 2012
From Sea to Sky
“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance
about what we do not see.”
- Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)
“You are better than you think you are, and you can do more
than you think you can.”
- Ken Chlouber, Leadville 100 founder
Thursday morning, I’ll wake up very close to here:
That would be the Monterey Bay, elevation zero. It won’t look exactly like that, because when
I’m racing by to make my 5:30AM flight, it’s bound to be pretty much dark. But you get the idea.
Thursday evening, I’ll go to sleep in the vicinity of here:
The mountains surrounding Vail, Colorado, elevation 8,150
feet. I guess you can say I’m moving on
up.
While Vail may be a lofty elevation to a beachcomber like me,
do you know what residents of Leadville call it? “The Lowlands.” At least, I’m presuming they would, since the
town of Leadville sits at 10,100’, making it the highest incorporated town in
North America.
These numbers may seem like mere geographic curiosities,
unless you happen to be in town for a 100-mile run. And if you haven’t done any elevation
training at all in your preparation for the race, those numbers just might
terrify you.
So that’s where faith and trust come in.
Strategically, showing up in Leadville two days before the
race doesn’t appear to make any sense - but logistically, it was the best I
could do. And there’s a chance that it
may not be quite as foolish as it sounds: from an exercise physiology
standpoint, it takes at least 2 weeks for the body to make cardiovascular
adaptations to high altitude. During
those two weeks, your body is making hundreds of thousands of changes on a
cellular level, and the transition period can limit maximal aerobic output, thereby
causing athletic performance to suffer.
Accordingly, if you can’t be in the thin air for 2 weeks or
more, your next best option may be to just show up as close to the race as
possible in your best shape possible, and limit your expectations while hoping
that your body can function sufficiently well on 50% of the oxygen it's
accustomed to processing. Modern
technology can remedy this somewhat, and I have to say that I was very tempted
when I received a product review offer from an altitude simulator company to
use their equipment prior to running at Leadville. Ultimately, I turned it down – in no small
part because I’m curious to see how the proposition of going from sea to sky
might turn out.
Taken altogether, the numbers are kind of scary: 100 miles
between 10,000 and 12,600’, especially when my training at sea level hasn’t been nearly what I’d like. Some people have reassured me
that altitude is just a number – but then again, that's the same thing some people say about age, and there’s a reason you don’t see any 90-year-olds running 100-milers. Beyond a certain point - there's no way to tell precisely where, and it differs for everyone - the numbers become
insurmountable; the same concept holds true for altitude as well as age. The best I can hope is that my insurmountable altitude number lies somewhere north
of 12-6. (I think I'm still safe on the age front, for a few more years at least.)
12,600' Hope Pass; photo from Leadville 100 website
Despite the numbers and my underlying anxiety about them, I
do feel reasonably confident in my ability to finish at Leadville, for reasons
that make no rational sense: the faith and trust I mentioned earlier. I have faith that there’s a rewarding, remarkable
experience in store for me in the Rocky Mountains, and I truly believe Ken
Chlouber’s race creed. Amazing, crazy,
and incredible things happen over the course of a 100-miler; truthfully, the
entire prospect of such an event defies logical explanation, so there’s no
sense in trying to contemplate these things in a reasonable manner anyhow.
I’ll slap up one final post up here sometime on Friday once I learn
my race number, with a link to the race webcast for anyone who’s interested in
following along. Until then, it’s time
for me to fly.
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Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
August 12, 2012
One Minute of Greatness
With the Leadville 100 now less than one week away, I find
myself somewhat paralyzed when it comes to stringing words together coherently
to resemble anything remotely sensible.
If all goes well, I’ll plunk out one more post before heading to Colorado later this week.
Instead of writing, I’ve spent the better part of my time
over the past couple of weeks looking for inspiration. Obviously, the Olympics have been very timely
in that regard, as it’s hard to watch athletes accomplishing their dreams –
especially in extraordinary circumstances like Oscar Pistorius - without
feeling that absolutely anything is possible.
I’ve also found myself curiously drawn to one 60-second commercial
that’s part of the “Find Your Greatness” campaign recently launched by
Nike. It celebrates not the Olympians – although
it uses the London theme rather brilliantly throughout the piece - but everyday
athletes looking to push their own boundaries.
It finishes with the profession that greatness isn’t reserved for a
select few on the world’s grandest stages, but rather that “Greatness is
wherever somebody is trying to find it.”
I’ll certainly be looking for it in the Rocky Mountains about six
days from now … and I can only hope that a little bit will be there for me to
find.
“Find Your Greatness – London 2012” by Nike (click to play):
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
myself somewhat paralyzed when it comes to stringing words together coherently
to resemble anything remotely sensible.
If all goes well, I’ll plunk out one more post before heading to Colorado later this week.
Instead of writing, I’ve spent the better part of my time
over the past couple of weeks looking for inspiration. Obviously, the Olympics have been very timely
in that regard, as it’s hard to watch athletes accomplishing their dreams –
especially in extraordinary circumstances like Oscar Pistorius - without
feeling that absolutely anything is possible.
I’ve also found myself curiously drawn to one 60-second commercial
that’s part of the “Find Your Greatness” campaign recently launched by
Nike. It celebrates not the Olympians – although
it uses the London theme rather brilliantly throughout the piece - but everyday
athletes looking to push their own boundaries.
It finishes with the profession that greatness isn’t reserved for a
select few on the world’s grandest stages, but rather that “Greatness is
wherever somebody is trying to find it.”
I’ll certainly be looking for it in the Rocky Mountains about six
days from now … and I can only hope that a little bit will be there for me to
find.
“Find Your Greatness – London 2012” by Nike (click to play):
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
August 9, 2012
Running on Faith; Every Body Welcome
Before today’s official post, a few odds and ends that are
somewhat related to recent subjects around here, and that will potentially keep
you reading for a very long time.
*
In my last post I described how running has become an
increasingly spiritual activity for me over the past several years. Coincidentally, last month the New York Times
published a feature length article about U.S. Olympic marathoner Ryan Hall –
among other things, it details how he uses Biblical tenets to guide his
training program, how he feels more connected to God through his workouts, and
how he uses his considerable talent as a platform to demonstrate his faith to
others. Even if you’re not the religious
type, it’s a fascinating depiction of the mindset of one of America’s best marathoners.
Ryan Hall; photo from New York Times
*
If I told you that Malcolm Gladwell wrote a piece about distance
running that is framed around an extended profile of Alberto Salazar, would you
be interested? And if the piece also
included Gladwell’s remembrance of his own distance running days, or details
about how Salazar’s faith influenced his training regimen (are you sensing a
theme here?), would that pique your interest further? And finally, how about if the piece were
called “Slackers”?
Alberto Salazar; photo from The New Yorker
I may have mentioned once or twice before that I’m a stark raving
Gladwell fan – not to mention an almost religiously-dedicated slacker – so needless
to say, this New Yorker piece doesn’t do anything to dissuade me of that
opinion. Do yourself a favor and check
it out; my own mediocre scribbling will be here when you get back.
*
One more item on the subject: lest you think that either Ryan
Hall, Malcolm Gladwell, or I were the first people to delve into the communion of running and
spirituality, check out this Amazon.com page of books on the topic. Most curiously of all on that list is a book
called Running Barefoot
, which, based on the synopsis, has absolutely nothing to do specifically
with either running or being barefoot. I
suppose sometimes the ways of the spirit are quite convoluted.
*
My offering for today was inspired by watching the Olympics:
more specifically, the large degree that one’s physical stature predisposes him
or her to excellence in certain sports – with the curious exception of
running. I’ve always bought into the conventional
notion that I was too tall to be an elite runner, but when I started
paying attention to the stats on some world class runners, the numbers revealed a
different story - one which is told in the Monterey Herald piece which follows
below.
As an entertaining aside, if you want to see what Olympic sport
your own body is best suited for, take a look at this Olympic Body Type Match site
created by the BBC. Although it’s a cool
little game, I kind of regret that I did it myself; when I plugged in my height
and weight, the closest match it could find for me was a Turkish Greco-Roman
wrestler. That’s not exactly the
comparison that a guy who’s getting ready to run 100 miles is looking to hear -
but at this point there’s really nothing I can do about it, so this is just
another one of those things I have to learn to let go.
Running Life 8/9/12 “Every
Body Welcome”
A frequently-played VISA spot during this year’s Olympic
Games features world-class pole vaulter Yelena Isinbayeva; it describes how she
“grew up dreaming of hearing the roar of the crowd as a gymnast … but she grew
too tall.”
Apparently once Isinbayeva crested 5 feet, her chances of
becoming an Olympic gymnast became rather slim.
Indeed, female all-around champion Gabby Douglas stands a mere 4’11” –
and she’s actually tall in comparison to the 4’9” average height of the Chinese
women’s team.
Chinese women (girls?) in 2008; photo from Reuters
Other sports are exclusive on the opposite extreme. Imagine being a swimmer trying to reach the
wall ahead of 6’1” Missy Franklin or Michael Phelps’s 6’7” wingspan. Basketball players, volleyball players,
rowers, and countless other sports filter out hopeful participants through
prohibitive size and strength requirements.
And then there’s distance running, which is pretty much open
to anyone who wants to try it.
This may sound odd at first, as conventional wisdom usually
holds that runners should be small and skinny, but a closer look at world class
athletes tells a different story. Just
like recreational plodders, elite runners come in a wide variety of heights,
and it’s unlikely that someone’s stature should ever disqualify him or her from
competing.
Consider female marathoners.
In the 2000’s the sport was dominated by Kenyan Tegla Loroupe, who
stands barely five feet tall and might weigh 90 pounds dripping wet. However, Loroupe isn’t the world record
holder; that honor goes to 5’8” Paula Radcliffe, an indomitable force who
represented Great Britain at four Olympic Games.
Paula Radcliffe; photo from The Guardian
The men’s marathon record is held by 5’5” Patrick Makau, but
for many years it was the property of 6’ Paul Tergat. The record books of most major marathons will
show an even wider range: the shortest champion in the 116-year history of the
Boston Marathon is 5’1” Yun Bok Soh of South Korea, who is more than a full foot
shorter than the tallest winner, 6’3” Kenyan Robert Cheruiyot, who won the race
four times in the last decade.
Last weekend’s men’s 10K gold and silver medals weren’t won
by tiny African runners, but by 5’9” Mo Farah of England and 5’11” American
Galen Rupp. As impressive as Rupp’s
performance was, he doesn’t even hold the US 10K record; that belongs to 6’1” Chris
Solinsky, whose best 5K time is slower than 6’3” Craig “Buster” Mottram of
Australia. And if Buster ever lined up
against America’s best 1500m runners, he’d be two inches shorter than 6’5”
Andrew Wheating. Incidentally, one of
Wheating’s 1500m teammates in London is 5’5” Leo Manzano. Do you still think height makes a difference
for speed?
Andrew Wheating, Matt Centrowitz, and Leo Manzano; photo from Runner's World
Even over extreme distances, smaller isn’t necessarily
better. One of the brightest talents in
ultrarunning is 5’7” Kilian Jornet, but his accomplishments pale in comparison
to 6’3” Scott Jurek, who won the brutal Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run a
record seven times.
Granted, many world-class distance runners are remarkably
skinny: Buster Mottram carries only 160 pounds on his 6’3” frame, and Cheruiyot
is even more slender at 150lbs. Galen
Rupp looks like he might snap in half if you hug him forcefully. However, this is one of those chicken-and-egg
scenarios that’s difficult to quantify.
Are they elite runners because they are naturally skinny, or are they
skinny because of all the miles they’ve logged to become elite runners?
The answer isn’t that important; what’s more critical to
realize is that there’s virtually no body type that’s unsuitable for
running. In other words, don’t worry
about what you look like – just get out there and do it!
[image error]
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
somewhat related to recent subjects around here, and that will potentially keep
you reading for a very long time.
*
In my last post I described how running has become an
increasingly spiritual activity for me over the past several years. Coincidentally, last month the New York Times
published a feature length article about U.S. Olympic marathoner Ryan Hall –
among other things, it details how he uses Biblical tenets to guide his
training program, how he feels more connected to God through his workouts, and
how he uses his considerable talent as a platform to demonstrate his faith to
others. Even if you’re not the religious
type, it’s a fascinating depiction of the mindset of one of America’s best marathoners.
Ryan Hall; photo from New York Times
*
If I told you that Malcolm Gladwell wrote a piece about distance
running that is framed around an extended profile of Alberto Salazar, would you
be interested? And if the piece also
included Gladwell’s remembrance of his own distance running days, or details
about how Salazar’s faith influenced his training regimen (are you sensing a
theme here?), would that pique your interest further? And finally, how about if the piece were
called “Slackers”?
Alberto Salazar; photo from The New Yorker
I may have mentioned once or twice before that I’m a stark raving
Gladwell fan – not to mention an almost religiously-dedicated slacker – so needless
to say, this New Yorker piece doesn’t do anything to dissuade me of that
opinion. Do yourself a favor and check
it out; my own mediocre scribbling will be here when you get back.
*
One more item on the subject: lest you think that either Ryan
Hall, Malcolm Gladwell, or I were the first people to delve into the communion of running and
spirituality, check out this Amazon.com page of books on the topic. Most curiously of all on that list is a book
called Running Barefoot
, which, based on the synopsis, has absolutely nothing to do specificallywith either running or being barefoot. I
suppose sometimes the ways of the spirit are quite convoluted.
*
My offering for today was inspired by watching the Olympics:
more specifically, the large degree that one’s physical stature predisposes him
or her to excellence in certain sports – with the curious exception of
running. I’ve always bought into the conventional
notion that I was too tall to be an elite runner, but when I started
paying attention to the stats on some world class runners, the numbers revealed a
different story - one which is told in the Monterey Herald piece which follows
below.
As an entertaining aside, if you want to see what Olympic sport
your own body is best suited for, take a look at this Olympic Body Type Match site
created by the BBC. Although it’s a cool
little game, I kind of regret that I did it myself; when I plugged in my height
and weight, the closest match it could find for me was a Turkish Greco-Roman
wrestler. That’s not exactly the
comparison that a guy who’s getting ready to run 100 miles is looking to hear -
but at this point there’s really nothing I can do about it, so this is just
another one of those things I have to learn to let go.
Running Life 8/9/12 “Every
Body Welcome”
A frequently-played VISA spot during this year’s Olympic
Games features world-class pole vaulter Yelena Isinbayeva; it describes how she
“grew up dreaming of hearing the roar of the crowd as a gymnast … but she grew
too tall.”
Apparently once Isinbayeva crested 5 feet, her chances of
becoming an Olympic gymnast became rather slim.
Indeed, female all-around champion Gabby Douglas stands a mere 4’11” –
and she’s actually tall in comparison to the 4’9” average height of the Chinese
women’s team.
Chinese women (girls?) in 2008; photo from Reuters
Other sports are exclusive on the opposite extreme. Imagine being a swimmer trying to reach the
wall ahead of 6’1” Missy Franklin or Michael Phelps’s 6’7” wingspan. Basketball players, volleyball players,
rowers, and countless other sports filter out hopeful participants through
prohibitive size and strength requirements.
And then there’s distance running, which is pretty much open
to anyone who wants to try it.
This may sound odd at first, as conventional wisdom usually
holds that runners should be small and skinny, but a closer look at world class
athletes tells a different story. Just
like recreational plodders, elite runners come in a wide variety of heights,
and it’s unlikely that someone’s stature should ever disqualify him or her from
competing.
Consider female marathoners.
In the 2000’s the sport was dominated by Kenyan Tegla Loroupe, who
stands barely five feet tall and might weigh 90 pounds dripping wet. However, Loroupe isn’t the world record
holder; that honor goes to 5’8” Paula Radcliffe, an indomitable force who
represented Great Britain at four Olympic Games.
Paula Radcliffe; photo from The Guardian
The men’s marathon record is held by 5’5” Patrick Makau, but
for many years it was the property of 6’ Paul Tergat. The record books of most major marathons will
show an even wider range: the shortest champion in the 116-year history of the
Boston Marathon is 5’1” Yun Bok Soh of South Korea, who is more than a full foot
shorter than the tallest winner, 6’3” Kenyan Robert Cheruiyot, who won the race
four times in the last decade.
Last weekend’s men’s 10K gold and silver medals weren’t won
by tiny African runners, but by 5’9” Mo Farah of England and 5’11” American
Galen Rupp. As impressive as Rupp’s
performance was, he doesn’t even hold the US 10K record; that belongs to 6’1” Chris
Solinsky, whose best 5K time is slower than 6’3” Craig “Buster” Mottram of
Australia. And if Buster ever lined up
against America’s best 1500m runners, he’d be two inches shorter than 6’5”
Andrew Wheating. Incidentally, one of
Wheating’s 1500m teammates in London is 5’5” Leo Manzano. Do you still think height makes a difference
for speed?
Andrew Wheating, Matt Centrowitz, and Leo Manzano; photo from Runner's World
Even over extreme distances, smaller isn’t necessarily
better. One of the brightest talents in
ultrarunning is 5’7” Kilian Jornet, but his accomplishments pale in comparison
to 6’3” Scott Jurek, who won the brutal Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run a
record seven times.
Granted, many world-class distance runners are remarkably
skinny: Buster Mottram carries only 160 pounds on his 6’3” frame, and Cheruiyot
is even more slender at 150lbs. Galen
Rupp looks like he might snap in half if you hug him forcefully. However, this is one of those chicken-and-egg
scenarios that’s difficult to quantify.
Are they elite runners because they are naturally skinny, or are they
skinny because of all the miles they’ve logged to become elite runners?
The answer isn’t that important; what’s more critical to
realize is that there’s virtually no body type that’s unsuitable for
running. In other words, don’t worry
about what you look like – just get out there and do it!
[image error]
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
August 6, 2012
Falling in a Good Way
*Admin note: And here we go: with less than two weeks until
Leadville, I’m finally entering that strange introspective, philosophical
territory that always seems to precede my epic adventures. Apologies if you don’t feel like wading
through 1300 words of psychoanalysis … but on the plus side, there’s a nifty
little rock tune waiting for you at the end.
**
“Life goes south when
pretty goes away -
The best that you can
get is when you're falling in a good way”
-
Everclear, “Falling in a Good Way” (video after
post)
Even as I’ve been forging myself into a better 100-mile
runner this year, I’ve also let myself become undeniably worse.
Truthfully, no ultrarunner is ever completely happy with the
training he or she has done in the buildup to a major race; we’d always like to
run more weekly mileage, do more high-quality workouts, or supplement our
efforts with cross training or massage for injury prevention.
Normally I don’t complain about the training I’m able to do,
because for the most part I’m consistently able to wake up early, log miles by
myself, and listen to my body when it’s time to back away from the brink of injury. I’m thankful for every day I get to run, and
with each passing year I’m more grateful for the wondrous places the simple
activity of running has led me.
A spare shot from the TRT 50
Having said that, I’m going into Leadville having completed less
overall training than before any other 100-miler I’ve done – and for that
matter, before a lot of 50-milers I’ve done in the past as well. Where I used to have a base of 70-80 weekly miles
with frequent spikes to 100+ miles per week, this year most of my weeks have
been in the 30 to 40-mile range, with peaks in the 70s or 80s. Where I used to lead into a tune-up 50-miler with
50 or 60 additional miles the week of the race, I’ve done as little as 10 miles
in advance of race day.
Here’s how significant my training dropoff has been: my wife,
who is usually happy to have me in bed when she wakes up in the morning and awake
when we’re watching TV at night, has told me on several occasions that I should
be training more. Or, as she once put
it: Let me get this straight … you’re
preparing for the hardest race you’ve ever done my training the least that you’ve
ever done? She’s nothing if not
logical, that one.
Of course, she’s absolutely correct: my training has fallen
almost completely off the map. But here’s
the thing: I happen to think it’s fallen in a good way.
I went through an obsessive phase with my running that
lasted for many years – perhaps coincidentally, most of it took place in my 20s
and early 30s, when I was still grappling with my adult identity, full of
questions about the person I was becoming and what life had in store for
me. Many of the qualities I admired about
hardcore training were ones that I wanted to instill in myself: toughness, passion,
discipline, intensity, ambition, and reveling in all the physical pleasures of
the healthy body running provided me.
These days, I’m still passionate about running, but for
completely different reasons. I don’t
race for age group awards, or personal best times, or for people to recognize
me as the Runner Dude - which, ironically, seems to happen more and more
nowadays thanks to this little blog of mine.
And I certainly don’t stress out about how many miles I’m running.
Getting my Zen on at 7000'
Today I run as a ritual to keep my mind at peace, and to
keep me grounded in humility. I run to
enter a restorative niche* where I can sort out my thoughts and connect with my
true self. And with increasing
frequency, I run as a means of meditation and worship, reveling in the spiritual
outlet that the activity provides me.
(*A term taken from Susan Cain’s Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, a brilliant book that should be
required reading for introverts who struggle with conforming to the
increasingly noisy world around them.)
No matter where I look or what other means of devotion I
try, there’s no better way for me to feel close to God than to set foot down a
trail somewhere to immerse myself in His wondrous creation. At the same time my own exterior is stripped
bare, the presence of the Creator becomes more prominent, and it’s almost undoubtedly
the closest I’ll come to encountering the divine while here on Earth.
Also, remember how I described being concerned about how I’d
turn out as a grown up? Well, I’m in pretty
much in the place I was headed to now (although I’m exceedingly reluctant to
use the term grown-up, which implies
some level of maturity or responsibility – neither of which I particularly excel
at), and it turns out to be a pretty good spot.
Perhaps not exactly a grown-up ...
In nearly every way you can imagine, I’m overjoyed with how
my life has turned out thus far. I have more
blessings than I can count, and I have no desire to identify myself by activities
I do, or to get any external recognition of this crazy ultrarunning thing I
love. And I certainly don’t obsess over
workouts and mileage anymore. While
running is still a passion, it has long ceased to be a priority – and when life
pulls me in other directions, I have no qualms about letting it go.
That’s more or less the situation that has taken place this
year: other things have become more important than training, so I run when I
can, and bag it when I don’t feel like it.
Consequently, my overall mileage has decreased, my speed has dropped
off considerably, my race times are slower than usual (this is hard to quantify
on courses that change from one year to the next, but I can tell), and ultras
are more of a physical struggle than I’ve experienced in the past. Lots of people I used to outrun now finish
well ahead of me; at first this was brutal to the ego, but I’ve learned to let
this go as well. Come to think of it, I
really didn’t have a choice.
The good news in all of this is that none of it really
bothers me – because I’ve definitely fallen in a good way. And I’d much rather be the content, peaceful
guy muddling around the middle of the pack than the intense, misguided dude who
has structured his whole life around breaking some arbitrary time goal or earning
some physical trinket that recognizes an accomplishment. There’s
so much more to life than that, and so much more to the experience of running
100 miles than who you beat while doing it.*
(*However, there’s still the matter of cutoff times, which
of course are extremely important to beat – and which at Leadville aren’t exactly
generous. I’m choosing not to dwell on
this too much.)
So what does any of this mean for me at Leadville? Your guess is as good as mine. I’m relatively optimistic in my ability to
finish – but there’s a very strong chance that it’s not going to be pretty. I fully anticipate that it will be the hardest
challenge I’ve ever encountered, and there will be many moments of anguish and
depression and emptiness along the way.
But I also believe that I have the right mindset to rally through them, and
I have faith that the entire journey is going to be one of the most glorious experiences
of my life.
And it’s now less than two weeks before we’ll all find out for
sure.
*
Everclear, “Falling in a Good Way” (click to play):
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
Leadville, I’m finally entering that strange introspective, philosophical
territory that always seems to precede my epic adventures. Apologies if you don’t feel like wading
through 1300 words of psychoanalysis … but on the plus side, there’s a nifty
little rock tune waiting for you at the end.
**
“Life goes south when
pretty goes away -
The best that you can
get is when you're falling in a good way”
-
Everclear, “Falling in a Good Way” (video after
post)
Even as I’ve been forging myself into a better 100-mile
runner this year, I’ve also let myself become undeniably worse.
Truthfully, no ultrarunner is ever completely happy with the
training he or she has done in the buildup to a major race; we’d always like to
run more weekly mileage, do more high-quality workouts, or supplement our
efforts with cross training or massage for injury prevention.
Normally I don’t complain about the training I’m able to do,
because for the most part I’m consistently able to wake up early, log miles by
myself, and listen to my body when it’s time to back away from the brink of injury. I’m thankful for every day I get to run, and
with each passing year I’m more grateful for the wondrous places the simple
activity of running has led me.
A spare shot from the TRT 50
Having said that, I’m going into Leadville having completed less
overall training than before any other 100-miler I’ve done – and for that
matter, before a lot of 50-milers I’ve done in the past as well. Where I used to have a base of 70-80 weekly miles
with frequent spikes to 100+ miles per week, this year most of my weeks have
been in the 30 to 40-mile range, with peaks in the 70s or 80s. Where I used to lead into a tune-up 50-miler with
50 or 60 additional miles the week of the race, I’ve done as little as 10 miles
in advance of race day.
Here’s how significant my training dropoff has been: my wife,
who is usually happy to have me in bed when she wakes up in the morning and awake
when we’re watching TV at night, has told me on several occasions that I should
be training more. Or, as she once put
it: Let me get this straight … you’re
preparing for the hardest race you’ve ever done my training the least that you’ve
ever done? She’s nothing if not
logical, that one.
Of course, she’s absolutely correct: my training has fallen
almost completely off the map. But here’s
the thing: I happen to think it’s fallen in a good way.
I went through an obsessive phase with my running that
lasted for many years – perhaps coincidentally, most of it took place in my 20s
and early 30s, when I was still grappling with my adult identity, full of
questions about the person I was becoming and what life had in store for
me. Many of the qualities I admired about
hardcore training were ones that I wanted to instill in myself: toughness, passion,
discipline, intensity, ambition, and reveling in all the physical pleasures of
the healthy body running provided me.
These days, I’m still passionate about running, but for
completely different reasons. I don’t
race for age group awards, or personal best times, or for people to recognize
me as the Runner Dude - which, ironically, seems to happen more and more
nowadays thanks to this little blog of mine.
And I certainly don’t stress out about how many miles I’m running.
Getting my Zen on at 7000'
Today I run as a ritual to keep my mind at peace, and to
keep me grounded in humility. I run to
enter a restorative niche* where I can sort out my thoughts and connect with my
true self. And with increasing
frequency, I run as a means of meditation and worship, reveling in the spiritual
outlet that the activity provides me.
(*A term taken from Susan Cain’s Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, a brilliant book that should be
required reading for introverts who struggle with conforming to the
increasingly noisy world around them.)
No matter where I look or what other means of devotion I
try, there’s no better way for me to feel close to God than to set foot down a
trail somewhere to immerse myself in His wondrous creation. At the same time my own exterior is stripped
bare, the presence of the Creator becomes more prominent, and it’s almost undoubtedly
the closest I’ll come to encountering the divine while here on Earth.
Also, remember how I described being concerned about how I’d
turn out as a grown up? Well, I’m in pretty
much in the place I was headed to now (although I’m exceedingly reluctant to
use the term grown-up, which implies
some level of maturity or responsibility – neither of which I particularly excel
at), and it turns out to be a pretty good spot.
Perhaps not exactly a grown-up ...
In nearly every way you can imagine, I’m overjoyed with how
my life has turned out thus far. I have more
blessings than I can count, and I have no desire to identify myself by activities
I do, or to get any external recognition of this crazy ultrarunning thing I
love. And I certainly don’t obsess over
workouts and mileage anymore. While
running is still a passion, it has long ceased to be a priority – and when life
pulls me in other directions, I have no qualms about letting it go.
That’s more or less the situation that has taken place this
year: other things have become more important than training, so I run when I
can, and bag it when I don’t feel like it.
Consequently, my overall mileage has decreased, my speed has dropped
off considerably, my race times are slower than usual (this is hard to quantify
on courses that change from one year to the next, but I can tell), and ultras
are more of a physical struggle than I’ve experienced in the past. Lots of people I used to outrun now finish
well ahead of me; at first this was brutal to the ego, but I’ve learned to let
this go as well. Come to think of it, I
really didn’t have a choice.
The good news in all of this is that none of it really
bothers me – because I’ve definitely fallen in a good way. And I’d much rather be the content, peaceful
guy muddling around the middle of the pack than the intense, misguided dude who
has structured his whole life around breaking some arbitrary time goal or earning
some physical trinket that recognizes an accomplishment. There’s
so much more to life than that, and so much more to the experience of running
100 miles than who you beat while doing it.*
(*However, there’s still the matter of cutoff times, which
of course are extremely important to beat – and which at Leadville aren’t exactly
generous. I’m choosing not to dwell on
this too much.)
So what does any of this mean for me at Leadville? Your guess is as good as mine. I’m relatively optimistic in my ability to
finish – but there’s a very strong chance that it’s not going to be pretty. I fully anticipate that it will be the hardest
challenge I’ve ever encountered, and there will be many moments of anguish and
depression and emptiness along the way.
But I also believe that I have the right mindset to rally through them, and
I have faith that the entire journey is going to be one of the most glorious experiences
of my life.
And it’s now less than two weeks before we’ll all find out for
sure.
*
Everclear, “Falling in a Good Way” (click to play):
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
August 5, 2012
Honey Stinger Contest Winners; Leadville Trail Video Mojo
Well, that was entertaining.
Thanks very much to everyone who entered the Honey Stinger contest and suggested sports for future consideration into the Olympic
Games. As the entries came in and I
returned to scroll through the list a few times, the suggestions naturally
segregated into a few distinct categories.
The first category is legitimate and/or somewhat mainstream
sports that really do make you wonder: If sports like golf, water polo, and
beach volleyball are included, why shouldn’t these other ones be? If there’s any argument to be made against
sports like lacrosse, baseball /softball (which were once there, but now are
not), cross country, and even roller derby, I’d love to hear it.
In the middle lies the fringe category of activities that initially
seem more like hobbies or niche skill sets than real sports … but considering
that shooting, fencing, and table tennis are included, maybe they’re not so
far-fetched. Are events like kickball, skateboarding,
dodge ball, hopscotch, pogo sticking, boomerang throwing, Frisbee golf or ultimate
Frisbee really that different than the ones already included? Their case for inclusion is strengthened even
further (among Americans, at least) when you consider that most of these are
playground games that American kids are still playing long after their Russian
or Chinese counterparts have been sent away to gymnastics or diving academies,
so maybe this is one way for the US to increase its medal haul. Then again, maybe that’s precisely the reason
they haven’t been included yet.
And then we had the purely “no way in heck” list of games
that were completely preposterous, but made me smile just at the thought of
them. Cup stacking, milk chugging, catfish
noodling (for the uninitiated, that means catching them with your bare hands), thumb
wrestling, slip ‘n’ slide, staring, synchronized bowling … any of these would
be surreal to watch.
Having said all that, we need to announce our winners. BE, Steven Peterson, and Yo Momma Runs,
e-mail me your contact info – you’ve won the sampler packs. As previously mentioned, thanks very much to
everyone else who entered, and especially to Honey Stinger for sponsoring the
contest.
**
I indicated yesterday that with less than two weeks remaining until I'm on the start line at Leadville, it’s probably time for me to start collecting my thoughts about the
race. I’m not quite there yet, but one
thing I have been doing to build my mojo is browsing some YouTube videos that feature the race –
and the one that follows is clearly one of the best.
The clip was made by Salomon Running, who have also produced the
brilliant Kilian’s Quest video series for the past couple of years. This piece profiles Ryan Sandes, the Salomon runner who won Leadville in 2011, but
also does a great job of capturing both the challenge and the allure of the
event. (In a sad side note, it also features a cameo from the late Micah True, AKA Caballo Blanco.) I dare you to watch it and tell me you're not compelled to take part in some aspect of the Leadville race, or at least a little more appreciative of the metaphysical appeal of this crazy sport of ultrarunning.
“Salomon Team – Leadville Trail 100 Miles” (click to play):
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
Thanks very much to everyone who entered the Honey Stinger contest and suggested sports for future consideration into the Olympic
Games. As the entries came in and I
returned to scroll through the list a few times, the suggestions naturally
segregated into a few distinct categories.
The first category is legitimate and/or somewhat mainstream
sports that really do make you wonder: If sports like golf, water polo, and
beach volleyball are included, why shouldn’t these other ones be? If there’s any argument to be made against
sports like lacrosse, baseball /softball (which were once there, but now are
not), cross country, and even roller derby, I’d love to hear it.
In the middle lies the fringe category of activities that initially
seem more like hobbies or niche skill sets than real sports … but considering
that shooting, fencing, and table tennis are included, maybe they’re not so
far-fetched. Are events like kickball, skateboarding,
dodge ball, hopscotch, pogo sticking, boomerang throwing, Frisbee golf or ultimate
Frisbee really that different than the ones already included? Their case for inclusion is strengthened even
further (among Americans, at least) when you consider that most of these are
playground games that American kids are still playing long after their Russian
or Chinese counterparts have been sent away to gymnastics or diving academies,
so maybe this is one way for the US to increase its medal haul. Then again, maybe that’s precisely the reason
they haven’t been included yet.
And then we had the purely “no way in heck” list of games
that were completely preposterous, but made me smile just at the thought of
them. Cup stacking, milk chugging, catfish
noodling (for the uninitiated, that means catching them with your bare hands), thumb
wrestling, slip ‘n’ slide, staring, synchronized bowling … any of these would
be surreal to watch.
Having said all that, we need to announce our winners. BE, Steven Peterson, and Yo Momma Runs,
e-mail me your contact info – you’ve won the sampler packs. As previously mentioned, thanks very much to
everyone else who entered, and especially to Honey Stinger for sponsoring the
contest.
**
I indicated yesterday that with less than two weeks remaining until I'm on the start line at Leadville, it’s probably time for me to start collecting my thoughts about the
race. I’m not quite there yet, but one
thing I have been doing to build my mojo is browsing some YouTube videos that feature the race –
and the one that follows is clearly one of the best.
The clip was made by Salomon Running, who have also produced the
brilliant Kilian’s Quest video series for the past couple of years. This piece profiles Ryan Sandes, the Salomon runner who won Leadville in 2011, but
also does a great job of capturing both the challenge and the allure of the
event. (In a sad side note, it also features a cameo from the late Micah True, AKA Caballo Blanco.) I dare you to watch it and tell me you're not compelled to take part in some aspect of the Leadville race, or at least a little more appreciative of the metaphysical appeal of this crazy sport of ultrarunning.
“Salomon Team – Leadville Trail 100 Miles” (click to play):
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
August 4, 2012
Random Shots of Beauty (Extended Salinas Valley Edition)
I keep meaning to write something about my upcoming
Leadville race – it seems like kind of a big deal, after all - but there’s something about
the prospect of doing something that simultaneously inspires and terrifies me
that’s temporarily leaving me at a loss for words. I’m working on it, I promose.
In the meantime, let’s do an extended Random Shots of Beauty
post, featuring scenes from my warmup run prior to this morning’s Salinas Valley Half Marathon. Basically, I did this again plus a few extra miles – but the difference this summer was that this morning’s run was the
first time I’ve toured the Salinas Valley on foot in several weeks. That’s another long story as well – one I may
revisit at some point here. For now,
enjoy some photos (and click to enlarge any of these):
A long glance down the valley from a high point at around
mile 7 on the course …
A pair of dilapidated farm buildings …
A gradual descent and climb that leads to …
… another cool abandoned structure on the fringe of a
vineyard.
A little farther down the road, a nice reminder of just how
inconsequential a morning run is in the grand scheme of things, and how
fortunate I am to be able to enjoy it.
Count your blessings, people.
And finally, some big ol’ bird - maybe a hawk, maybe just a turkey vulture; I honestly have no idea - flying above another winery
when I eventually made it back to my car about six hours after leaving. After today’s run, it’s time for me to take
flight into full-on taper mode.
*
Also, check back for the Honey Stinger contest winners
tomorrow night.
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
July 31, 2012
Honey Stinger Lemon Waffle and Organic Gel Review and Giveaway (With an Olympic Twist)
When I had the chance to introduce Honey Stinger energy products here about 6 months ago, I pointed out that of the four products I
sampled, only three of them were worth recommending.
One of them in particular – the stroopwafel-inspired Stinger
Waffle – was through the roof awesome, both from a taste standpoint, and for
being unlike pretty much any other energy product on the market. They came in
three flavors, and they were clearly the favorite of my family on a long day of
hiking and taste testing.
At the other end of the spectrum was the company’s energy
gels, which were so bad that I couldn’t even finish a single pack: every flavor
that I tested ended up squeezed out onto the ground. Needless to say, it wasn’t exactly a high
point of my product testing career.
On that note, this summer I have a few points of good
news. The first is that Honey Stinger has
reinvented its gel formula to debut a product line of organic energy gels in
three new flavors. The better news is
that they’ve recently introduced a new flavor of the delicious waffles that my
kids and I got to sample.
And the best news is that a few readers will get to try each
of these new products for themselves.
That’s right – it’s giveaway time again!
But before we get to that, we should probably promote the products a
little more.
Like last time, the standout in this product bunch is the
Stinger Waffle, this time in a new lemon flavor. In my previous review post I explained how the classic stroopwafel
originated in the Netherlands over 200 years ago, and are popular with European
cyclists looking for a quick burst of energy on long bike rides.
It even looks like a waffle
The old-school version is made with syrup filling between
two layers of baked batter, but Honey Stinger’s version is a certified USADA organic product, using organic honey and other organic ingredients for a
160-calorie energy shot that’s easy to carry with you for a long day on the
road or trail.
The new lemon flavor is quite mild, and not nearly as tart
as I anticipated. It joins the existing
Honey Stinger lineup of original (honey), vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate –
and from a taste standpoint, I’d rank them somewhere in the middle: just behind
strawberry and vanilla, and better than the original or chocolate. Of course, that’s my personal preference, and
yours may vary – which is why it would be cool to try them, right?
*
Our other giveaway product represents something of an
improvement, but I have to say I’m not completely fired up about them yet. Honey Stinger’s new organic energy gels are
certainly better tasting than the previous gel products – which, incidentally,
are still available if you’re one who happened to like them – but to my liking,
they’re not quite on par with my favorites from GU and CLIF Shot.
The new gels are each USADA certified organic (as are CLIF’s),
and are available in Vanilla, Fruit Smoothie and Acai Pomegranate flavors. They combine organic tapioca syrup, organic
honey and electrolytes, and each packet provides 100 calories of quick
energy.
Honey Stinger’s gels have a very thin consistency to begin
with, and the new organic varieties seem even thinner than the others – they’re
so thin as to drip out of the pack almost like a liquid. My favorite flavor of this bunch is the acai
pomegranate, possibly because it’s such a unique offering in the gel
category. The vanilla flavor is extremely
sweet, and I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as the vanilla flavors from … honestly,
from pretty much everybody else.
When I complained about the taste of honey-based gels last
time, a number of readers responded with comments about how much they like
them, so I’m open to the possibility that this is just an individual aversion
of mine. Which is yet another reason
that it’s good to have other opinions involved … and have I mentioned that we’re
doing a giveaway?
So here we go: three winners selected at random below will
receive the same sample packet of lemon waffles and organic energy gels that I
tested. But since I’m in the midst of
Olympic mania, I’m adding an additional twist to earn extra entries.
Remember yesterday when I suggested that slacklining might
be considered an Olympic sport someday?
If you come up with another suggested sport, you get an additional entry
in the hat. Be creative. Be funny. And who knows, you may prove to be
clairvoyant someday. However, you can’t
use a sport that someone else has suggested, so enter early, or scroll through
the previous entries so you don’t disqualify yourself.
Winners will be announced this Sunday night, August 5th.
Special thanks to Honey Stinger for
sponsoring this contest, and good luck to everybody!
[image error]
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Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
July 30, 2012
Altra Zero Drop Sale; The Muir Project Kickstarter Campaign
A couple of quick notes as I while away the hours thinking about how if trampolining is an Olympic sport, slacklining can't be far behind …
and also putting together finishing touches on a new contest for tomorrow
night. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, I’ve made reference to Altra shoe sales in
the past, and there’s another good one going on at The Clymb right now. Get the Instinct or Intuition shoes for $60, and the Adam or Eve for $50 – but only if you hurry. The sale ends August 2 at 8AM PST, so check it out here[image error].
[image error]
**
I’ve written promotional posts soliciting assistance for The Muir Project’s upcoming documentary film Mile … Mile and A Half, but up until
this point their official fundraising efforts were what you might call loosely
organized. Now it appears that they’re
getting serious, and soliciting donations to a Kickstarter campaign for the
final push toward completion.
There’s also a new video for your enjoyment on the fundraising page, but since I can’t find it in an embeddable version yet, I’ll
paste an early favorite of theirs below, and send you to the fundraising page again afterward. Summer’s the time for chasing big dreams – so
if you’re able to help the filmmakers accomplish theirs, that would be awesome.
“Almost There” by The Muir Project (click to play):
Check out The Muir Project Kickstarter page here.
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
and also putting together finishing touches on a new contest for tomorrow
night. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, I’ve made reference to Altra shoe sales in
the past, and there’s another good one going on at The Clymb right now. Get the Instinct or Intuition shoes for $60, and the Adam or Eve for $50 – but only if you hurry. The sale ends August 2 at 8AM PST, so check it out here[image error].
[image error]
**
I’ve written promotional posts soliciting assistance for The Muir Project’s upcoming documentary film Mile … Mile and A Half, but up until
this point their official fundraising efforts were what you might call loosely
organized. Now it appears that they’re
getting serious, and soliciting donations to a Kickstarter campaign for the
final push toward completion.
There’s also a new video for your enjoyment on the fundraising page, but since I can’t find it in an embeddable version yet, I’ll
paste an early favorite of theirs below, and send you to the fundraising page again afterward. Summer’s the time for chasing big dreams – so
if you’re able to help the filmmakers accomplish theirs, that would be awesome.
“Almost There” by The Muir Project (click to play):
Check out The Muir Project Kickstarter page here.
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
July 29, 2012
Random Shots of Beauty
I'm making things quick tonight so I can get back to completely geeking out on Olympic coverage. On a related note, thanks to NBC's tape delayed coverage airing until midnight PST, it's going to be hard for me to get a good night's sleep for the next 14 days. Good thing I'm not tapering for a big race or anything. Oh, wait ...
So let's knock out a couple Random Shots of Beauty, taken from my most recent excursions into the mountains. First, from Lake Alpine, CA:
My 11-year-old daughter striking a Pocahontas pose from a small island she and I kayaked to in search of perfect rock jumping spots - one of those excursions where the journey is as rewarding as the destination.
The next is left over from my Tahoe Rim Trail photos:
A small alpine meadow as seen from the trail between Marlette Peak and the Tunnel Creek aid station. Sometimes the hardest part of writing race reports is deciding which pictures to leave out; that's when you know you've completed an awesome race.
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
So let's knock out a couple Random Shots of Beauty, taken from my most recent excursions into the mountains. First, from Lake Alpine, CA:
My 11-year-old daughter striking a Pocahontas pose from a small island she and I kayaked to in search of perfect rock jumping spots - one of those excursions where the journey is as rewarding as the destination.
The next is left over from my Tahoe Rim Trail photos:
A small alpine meadow as seen from the trail between Marlette Peak and the Tunnel Creek aid station. Sometimes the hardest part of writing race reports is deciding which pictures to leave out; that's when you know you've completed an awesome race.
Get updates as soon as they're posted! Click here to subscribe to Running and Rambling.
Check out the Running Life book for a collection of our most popular columns.
