29 posts tagged “running”

After my torn anterior ankle tendon at mile 50 during Lean Horse in August, I intended to take off about six weeks from running entirely to allow everything to heal. My sports med doc was very reassuring and didn't think it was that big of a deal. Just take some time off, if it hurts then don't do it and when you're healed, you can start running again. In the meantime, you might want to think about other sports such as biking or swimming.

"That is all excellent advice," I thought but I also wondered: "how many other patients do you have whose next goal is to run one hundred miles?"

During the last six years I had not taken off more than 7 to 10 days from running.  "Who knows what other overuse or degenerative injuries there might be lurking around the corner?" I thought, "It's the off season, what better time to take a break?" Taking some time off would be good for me.

At first, it was difficult for me to not run. Running is an important part of what I do. It is a time of queit reflection where I let the stresses of life fall away, like the golden leaves from a quaking aspen in an autumn breeze. I missed my time of relaxation, meditation, escape and communion with nature.

To avoid feeling too sorry for myself for not being able to run, I devoted my free time into other acitvities which I had neglected. I spent time with my family. Jeanne, Nathan and I cut and stacked firewood. They joined me on trips to Tucson, Arizona and then to Casper, Wyoming.  

We threw an Oktoberfest party. I wore lederhosen and sang Bavarian beer-drinking songs (unfortunately, no pictures where taken!). Friends emptied almost all the beer from my kegs. So much the better; it's fall and time to start brewing beer again. One of my other hobbies beside ultrarunning is homebrewing. I can't make more beer until I have space to keep it. I appreciate when friends rise to the occasion and help make space in my kegs to store new beer.  

We went to a friend's barn dance and I got to jam with other musicians. That was very insipiring. I hadn't played much the past year. Hopefully I'll get to play with others more often. I play guitar, harmonica, claw hammer banjo, ukulele-banjo, Native American flute, and sign/yodel old time folk music of the American West from about 1840-1930.  My nurse's mom has lent me her violin so I could start learning how to play. I'd always wanted to play the fiddle.. now I am. The songs were pretty scratchy but I'm already improving. I don't have any desire to be at the level of a concert violinist, I only want to be able to play a few old time fiddle tunes around the campfire with friends.

During these last weeks, I did not write anything on this blog because no one wants to read a long drawn out whining post: "This sucks. I'm injured and I can't run"  I avoided reading or commenting on other's blogs- not because I wasn't interested-  but because I did not want to be reminded of all the things others are doing while I can't. I'd end up feeling even more self-pity.

Just as I was ready to start running again, I came down with bronchitis. After three weeks of coughing and right before the remnants of that was almost gone, I then caught a cold. I was frustrated and dejected. "This sucks!" I thought. Well,  there's one thing I could be thankful for: at least I was sick without it being before any upcoming major races on my calendar, unlike how it had been so many times in the past.  

"I'd do anything, just anything, if I could even go only ONE mile," I thought to myself. It's funny how humans, myself included, take so much for granted, including our fitness and our ealth. We don't realize what we have until we lose it.  

Yesterday was sunny with clear blue skies, a mild beeze and a high temp of 74 degrees. Even though I still have a trace of cough and reactive airway, I just couldn't stay away from running any longer. It has been almost ten weeks since I've run more than a few hundred yards. If I had to stop and walk back home, so be it. I wasn't going to put off returning to running any longer.

I put Ruby on a lead and my Vibram Five Fingers on my feet. We padded slowly, silently down the gravel road. It was Friday afternoon and we saw only a handful of vehicles. We saw deer, horses, cows, wild turkeys and one other jogger (rare here in the rural Black Hills of South Dakota). The vanilla aroma of fresh-cut ponderosa permeated the warm afternoon air where wildfire suppression crews had been thinning the forest. 

I would have loved to run on a trail instead of a road but thought I'd better not push it.  I only expected to go a mile or two and see how I feel. The first mile I coughed and coughed and coughed until finally the remnants of post-bronchitis mucous were gone. Running clears my airways even better than a nebulizer treatment. My legs felt well if not strong. The area of injury felt tight but there was no pain. Every few hundred yards I thought about turning back but felt so good that we kept going. At mile 2.5 we finally turned back.

Today, I have  few minor tight spots in my hips and calves. That's no surprise, given that we ran 5.1 miles and it's been almost ten weeks since I had gone for a decent run. I will take it easy the next couple of months before I think about races for next year. It would be foolish to push myself too far, too soon and then end up re-injured.

Perhaps a short ultra such as a 50k or a 26.2m trail marathon in March/April might be possible?  I have no idea how well I will recover my fitness and whether that tendon injury is truly gone.

No problem.

I have plenty of time to think about future races. I'm just glad that I'm running again. My only goal now is to simply keep running without injury. Ultramarathoning is all about persistence and taking the long perspective on things. This philosophy applies during races themselves, during those up and down times between races, as well as to life itself.

Enjoy the seasons of running and of life, my friends.

Float softly and quietly down those forest trails.

Run well and run strong. 

“Don’t give up… no matter what happens…

DO NOT give up!

You can do it and you WILL do it!”

I repeated this phrase to myself over and over, the entire week before Lean Horse.

I had DNF’d two previous 100 mile races, Lean Horse Hundred last August due to hypoglycemia and the Javelina Jundred In November due to heat exhaustion, dehydration and dry-heaving.

This time, my third time, would be the charm. As long as I didn’t make any stupid race-ending mistakes, this year I would finish. I have run more training runs and ultramarathons over 50 miles than I can easily recall. There are only a handful of races in the 50 mile to 100 mile distance. The next step is to do a full one hundred.

“I’m ready. I will do this,” I thought, fully convinced that I would.

The Day before Race Day

Jeanne, Nathan and I headed down to Hot Springs on Friday. At registration, we were told I was the runner who lived closest to the race. There were a handful of other South Dakotans, but we live on the eastern side of Custer State Park, only an hour away.

I hoped that might give me some sort of advantage on race day. I was realistic and knew that any advantage would be minor.  If anything, knowing every foot of the trail would make it easier for me to give up and stop, when I realized exactly how much farther I had to go.

At the pre-race meeting, race director Jerry Dunn made a point of telling us that cut-offs were "soft." What he meant that if we got to an aid station 15 or even 30 minutes past cut off time, we would be permitted to go on, the exception of course if we had to stop because of safety or medical reasons.

For a back-of-the packer like me, that was very reassuring. Making cut offs causes additional anxiety for those of us bringing up the rear. The only cut off that would count would be the final 30 hour cut off in Hot Springs noon Sunday. If we finished after that time, we would technically be given a DNF and would not recieve a buckle but  our time would still be posted as an "unofficial" finish. 

I promised myself that no matter what happened, I would keep going. I would not start to play the negative mind game in my head: "There's no hope of you making it by cut off anyway, you might as well quit." 

Even if I could not make it to Hot Springs by noon Sunday, I fully intended to go 100 miles, even if it took me 31 or 32 hours. My family was crewing for me, they could follow along and bring me food and fluids, even after the race officially shut down.

Jeanne joked and told me that the car was in Hot Springs and it was up to me to get there. I was off of work Monday so I could take as long as I needed to.

We stayed at a house that had been converted to lodging by the owner. It was nice to not have someone the floor above you pounding heavily after they came back to their room intoxicated late at night or noisy kids running up and down the hall.

Chris "Haliku" drove up from Denver. Just like last year, the plan was for him to pace me from the 50 mile cut off on. He'd had some ankle and knee tweaks and wasn't sure he'd be able to go the entire 50 miles. However, by the time he would pace me, my running would be his walking.

All I needed was for him to not let me give up during the night. If I made to dawn, I knew I would finish.

 

Nathan on the Fall River

Running the Fall River

The Fall River ran behind the house. Jeanne and Nathan enjoyed tubing down some of the rapids while Haliku and I arranged our gear. I preventively taped my feet as I now do before every big race. Since learning how to do that, my experiences with blisters have been minor.

I highly recommend the book "Fixing Your Feet," by John Vonhof as required reading for every ultramarathoner, adventure racer,  fast-packer and long distance hiker.  

 Saturday- Race Day!

I awoke refreshed at 4AM. I had slept well not tossing and turning through out the night as I had before many big races in the past. I slept peacefully because I knew I in my mind and my heart that barring any unforeseen circumsances: I could do it.

If for some reason I did not, oh well, DNFing is not the end of the world, I've done it before, there would always be other chances. 

 I'm not planning on stopping ultramarathon running any time soon. I plan to be that 80-something year old guy winning my age group because there is no one else left in my age group (or at least placing second in my age group after Haliku). 

After eating my usual pre-race breakfast of whole wheat waffles with lots of syrupm Haliku and I headed down to the race start at Mueller Civic Center.

Slowly the other runners gathered. I saw many other runners from previous ultramarathons. Teresa Verburg from Rapid City who had run her first hundred miler at Lean Horse last year. She is still the one and only woman from South Dakota to have finished Lean Horse. She was back for more this year.

We ultramarathoners are a tight-knit small community. It's always nice to catch up before, during and after the race.

The announcement was made and we all gathered outside. The weather was predicted to be hot, the mid-90s.

There's no reason to worry about that which is out of my control, I thought.

 

Elise from Montana was nervous. She had run only three 26.2 mile marathons before. This was her first 50 miler. I told her not to worry, she would do it.

"Just take it easy in the heat, hydrate and don't forget to eat- you'll do it! We all can do it!!!"

Suddenly, the race was on! We were off!!!

One of the most difficult challenges of running and   completing an ultra is holding back for the first half of

The race begins!

the race... in a 100 miler, that constitutes concentrating on running as slowly and easily as possible for 10, 12 or even 15 hours.

"Hold back so you'll have something to draw from later in the race when you really need it." I tell myself over and over as the pack drifts away.

It is a lesson that I continue to focus on and re-learn.

 

Starting out slow and easy

I took it easy, walking for the first five miles even before I ran a single step.

I started out walking with a couple from New Jersey hiking the 50 mile race, Ned and Laura Gardner. They were long distance hikers, not runners.

Unlike many shorter races where walkers are sneered down upon by runners, we ultra-thoners welcome walkers with open arms. After all, every ultra-runner includes walking breaks as part of their race tactic. Many times we are grateful when we are even able to walk. Every step forward is a step closer to the finish line we believe.

Going 50 or 100 miles on your own two feet is still 50 or 100 miles, no matter how you got there.

On Argyle Road

 On Argyle Road I left them behind and caught up with a few other runners. I jogged with Holley Lange from Colorado whom I had met at Greenland 50-k and the 24 hours at Laramie, last year. We stayed together for quite a while.

Then I met and ran with Mike Haviland from California. I met him last year at the Kettle Moraine 100-k. He is a past Badwater finisher but made an impression on me at Kettle Moraine when he passed out right as I was talking to him.

I remember thinking to myself, "If a Badwater finisher is passing out during this  race because of heat and humidity, what the heck am I doing here?"

It turned out it was due to a medication he was on, one notorious for causing low blood pressure after standing, and in some people, fainting. After the medication was stopped, no more problems.

I was very relieved that he passed out because of a medication and not because of something I said. I have been accused of boring people to....well you know...

On the Mickelson Trail

The day began to warm up. I was surprised how fast the pack had headed out. Many runners who usually run at a similar pace as I do, took off. Starting out too fast was a mistake I made last year which I promised myself I would not repeat.

"They're going to pay for it later, " I thought. As long as I stuck with my average 15 - 16 min/mile as long as I could, I would be able to finish and still have enough of a cushion later if I needed it.

Finally we were on the Mickelson Trail. I began to see the fifty milers on their return trip.

I saw  to Keith Happel, an internist from Bismarck, ND that I know. I told him "Lookin' good!"

He looked strong!! 

Then I saw Chris Stores, one of us local ultrarunners-bloggers from Bell Fourche, SD. He looked strong too and I wished him success.

Right before the 24 mile aid station at Pringle, I saw Elise who also was looking good, with a smile on her face, well on her way to her first 50 mile finish.

I wished every one of those fifty milers well and continued to head north.

    "Lookin' good"

    "Run on!"

    "Nice work!"

    "Good luck!"

    "Keep on going... you can do it... just one step in front of the other!!!"

 That is one of the best things about ultrarunning, we run with instead of run against each other. We're very supportive of other runners, no matter if they're the elite or the very last place finisher.

It's all about getting out there and doing your best.

Starting to get warm

 It was then that I started passing some of the other hundred milers.

I passed Bob Wray, another back-of-the packer like me. He works for Fed-Ex and is from Rapid City. He always stands out in a crowd because of the patriotic American Flag colors he wears. I met him last year at the 50 mile turnaround and again this year at the Mystic Mountain trail race.

Bob didn't look too good.  I think he mumbled something about starting out too fast. I encouraged him to not give up, take some time to rest and rehyrate at the next aid station if necessary but don't give up.

I didn't see him again after that.

At every aid station I put ice under my hat. At one aid station, they had no extra ice so one of the aid station volunteers pulled out some red ice from the sports drink for me to put under my hat. Beggars cannot be choosers, at least my sweat tasted sweet after that!

I started out drinking only about one bottle of sports drink (HEED or SUCCEED Amino) between aid station, or about one per hour. I took one SUCCEED! salt cap per hour.

Then, in the heat of the afternoon I switched to plain water only- two water bottles per hour, with some additional water from my Camelback if I emptied my water bottles before the next aid station.

Even though I lost my appetite from the heat, I forced myself to eat.  I was not about to repeat the same mistake I made last year. For some reason, I cannot tolerate energy gels after about mile 30 or 35, they make me want to gag. I've found that "real" food I tolerate better.

I settled into a pattern of taking a half a turkey sandwich and/or banana at each aid station. If I couldn't eat it rght there, I would nibble on it so that it was gone before the next aid station. Sports Jelly Beans and Clif Blocks eaten a few at a time, after eating some real solid food, I did fine with.

I met Jim Newton from Texas. We flip-flopped all afternoon, alternating between who was in front and who was behind. At one point between aid stations, his crew offered me some ice to put under my hat.

A simple deed like that is appreciated more than any words can express.

Despite being from down south, Jim was struggling with the heat as we all were. I stuck with my conservative pace. I convinced myself that if I could focus on fast-walking as fast as I could slow-run, then why bother running?

I maintained my 15 min/mile average pace through the day, relaxed in knowing that I only needed an 18 min/mile overall average to finish before final cut off.

Last year at this point, I was averaging a 12 or 13 min/mile, much much too fast and part of the reason I bonked so hard later in the night.

Best crew EVER

My crew, Jeanne, Nathan and Chris "Haliku" met me at each aid station. A chair was set out for me. Jeanne gave me a towel soaked in ice water to wipe the salt and sweat from my face.

What a treat!

They filled my water bottles, put ice under my hat and replaced my food supply. They asked what I needed but didn't allow me to dawdle. I past many other runners simply because I was in and out of the aid stations faster than they were.

Some of the volunteers remarked how fast and efficient they were: "like a NASCAR crew!"

I had the  best crew EVER!  With support and a crew like this how could I possibly fail?  Now if only I could be as fast at running as my crew is at crewing!

At Carroll Creek Aid Station, I felt a little dizzy and trace of nausea. "I must be getting dehydrated," I thought to myself. As soon as I arrived, I drank an extra water bottle and took two salt caps which seemed to settle the problem. 

I believe that during this race and the training leading up to it, I've finally learned how to eat/drink while not upseting my stomach over long periods, incuding the afternoon heat.

My pacer and I

Nathan  decided to join me. The next aid station would be Harbach Park in Custer at mile 36 or so. Since I was mostly walking or jogging slowly at that time, I encouraged him to come along. Even though the temperatures was now 93-94, he stayed with me the entire way.

Jeanne stopped with the car every time the trail came near the road to ask if Nathan wanted to stop. She was worried he would hold me back.

Each time he paused before answered, "No, I'd like to go with Daddy. I can do it!"

He fast walked the entire 5.5 miles into Harbach Park without whining or complaining.

I'm so proud!

Future ultramarathoner???

Someday, perhaps sooner than I will be ready for, it may very well be me who is the pacer and crew while Nathan runs his first ultra.

We've talked with him trying a 5-k or a children's fun run sometime. I refuse to push him into doing something he is not interested in or not ready for. He has his entire life to decide what it is he likes to do and what he is good at.

Too many parents push their children into too many activities too soon. It results in the opposite from what is desired- a strong dislike rather than passion for that activity.

Holley came in to Harbach looking tired and dizzy as I was getting ready to leave. I told her to not give up yet, drink and rest before she made up her mind.

As I headed out of Custer, I saw the front runner, Akos Konya, jogging effortlessly on the return trip. Amazing! I love out and back races because we get to glimpse the winners and front runners as the pass by us  on the return.

Coming up to Mountain Trailhead

On the way up the hill to Mountain Trailhead (mile 40 or so), I met a gentleman I had met at the Javelina Jundred last fall. Ultrarunning really is a small world. We talked about creation, the universe, science, religion, God and medicine- some pretty heavy stuff.

Conserving my energy, I actually let him do most of the talking, which anyone who has ever run with me will be sure to tell you, is usually not my style.

The next mile and a half to the entrance to Crazy Horse Monument is relatively flat. I went for a short time with a young man from  Minot, ND: Ben Clark. At age 18, he was an anomaly. The average age of ultrarunners is around 55. On Monday he would be starting in college, with plans to study mechanical engineering.

If he is able to run a 100 mile ultra at age 18, who knows what he will be able to accomplish if he sets his mind to it? I wished him well as he jogged on.

Soon we were going downhill and I was able to pick up speed. The three or so miles past Crazy Horse Monument are all downhill on the way out....and all uphill on the way back. I had already promised myself that I would walk every single step up that hill on the return trip.

What's three miles out of a hundred?

As the sun set, the temperature cooled down. I felt good. I began to see more runners on the way back.

One woman asked, "Are you Chris's brother?"

"Yes, I am!" I answered.

It was Joyce, a mutual friend of two of other running friends of mine, Jarom Thurston and Lisa Nicholls. Chris had met Jarom, Lisa and Joyce last year when they were running 24 hours at Boulder.

Joyce ran strong and fast. She was well on her way to a sub-24 hour finish.

As I ran down the hill, I man on a bike caught up with me, Raj. He had seen the Native American Flute I was carrying and was curious. I had played it earlier in the day. However now that the wind had picked up, I held off until night fell because the wind would steal away my notes.

Raj's wife, Anu Singh was running her first hundred miler being paced by their friend Rajeev Patel. Rajeev had given me a hug of encouragement at the race registration the day before. They had been conservative during the heat of the day and now passed me making up for lost time.

Raj and I spoke about the Wakan Paha Sapa or sacred Black Hills and how running, at least for me, is as much of a spiritual endeavor as it is a physical one. I explained how this place is sacred to the Lakota and many other nations.

As they went on their way, I told him to not forget: Mitakuye Oyasin- We are all related. 

Others told me how strong I looked. I thanked them and agreed. I felt strong; but pushed such thoughts out of my head.  Ultras are run one mile, one foot step at a time. It is risky to get overconfident and count your buckles before you've finished.

Just before Oreville, I started to feel a dull ache in the front part of my lower leg. It didn't hurt that bad, only a minor annoyance I thought. No big deal. I kept running and ignored the slight discomfort.

As I approached Buckaroo aid station I told everyone "I see you again in a few minutes!" It was only a half mile out to the 50 mile turnaround and back.

Suddenly, only two hundred yards from Buckaroo, I felt a severe excrutiating pain inside my leg, as if it was ripping open on the inside. I could not bear weight and almost fell flat on my face. I limped back to Buckaroo, frustrated and upset. I tried running and again I almost fell flat on my face due to the pain.

What was it?

I had no superficial pain or swelling. It was all deep inside. The pain came on so suddenly and without warning, I was deeply concerned that it might be a stress fracture. Whatever it was, there was no way for me go on. I know a woman who ran 40 miles on a stress fracture to finish a 100 mile race, I wasn't about to let that be me.

It was hard for me to stop, since I felt so good otherwise. My stomach had held up, I was still able to eat and drink. My legs felt strong, other than the pain inside my right lower leg.It was as if I had run only 20 miles instead of 50 miles. 

I knew I had at least another 20 or 30 miles in me before it would have started to get really hard. What would have happened then? There is no way for me to know.

I was upset about stopping so early but trying to go on but the only option that made sense was to stop- so I did.

We drove back to Custer and Harbach Park. Chris was itching to run- last year I DNF'd on him just before Harbach Park.

Now the year he wasn't going to be able to run or walk a single step!

We thought that perhap we could catch Joyce or some other runner who needed a pacer and Chris could run with them. Joyce came in running strong and Chris went with her. For a moment, he was unsure if he'd be able to keep up with her.

Holley was still there. She had dropped in the afternoon after I had seen her but had not yet found a ride back to the race start. We gave her and another runner, Don Gibson from Georgia, a ride back to Hot Springs.  It turns out that Don had passed me with another runner the final two miles of Strolling Jim 40 mile this spring.

Ultramarathoning is such a small community!

Sunday- The Day After

After a good night's sleep, we had a good breakfast and went down to the Mueller Civic Center to see the last of the runners come in. Many of the runners I had been running with were now finishing in 28 -29 hours.

"I could have been one of them," I thought sadly,  "Oh well. There will always be next year."

OW! (Not my foot)

2 comments

I have no idea who this lady was, but she had her foot out for all of us to see and others were taking pictures, so I did too. It hurt me just to look at it!

I looked at the race results and saw how the others did:

• Akos Konya: won the 100 miles in 16:46, amazing on any day but even more amazing given how hot the day was.
• Keith Happel finished the 50 mile in 5th place overall at 8:54- strong work!
• Chris Stores did the 50 miles in 8th place, 2nd in his age group, at 9:31- also strong work!
• Ned and Laura Gardner, walked 50 miles in 16:28.
• Ben Clark, the 18 year old from Minot, ND, went on the finish the 100 miles in 28:13. An impressive achievement.
• Anu Singh finished the 100 miles with Rajeev Patel  pacing her in at 29:13- congrats! I hope I get to see them again, they were all such a joy to meet.

Unfortunately, I was not alone in DNFing; many of my friends  and new found aquaintances ended up DNFing as well. No one from South Dakota finished the 100 mile race this year:

• Teresa Verburg stopped at Harback Park, she was probably the smartest of all of us. Why go on if you're not having a good day? We have nothing to prove to anyone but ourselves.
• Bob Wray- I didn't see him after I passed him before Pringle. I assume he must have dropped there.
• Mike Haviland was moving along when I last saw him but also was on the DNF list.
• Jim Newton went on to mile 70 (I think). 
• Joyce Forier was well on her way to a sub-24 finish but ended up have blisters so severe, she had to stop at mile 70. Almost the entire parts of her foot was affected. Ow!
• Two other South Dakotans, whom I met this spring at Bighorn 50 miles, also DNF'd: Loren Janke and Alan Richter. I didn't get a chance to find out what happened.  
• Micheal Porter from Bismarck, ND also was at Bighorn this spring and dropped at mile 70 I think.

 As we drove home, I thought about the race and my reason for DNFing. Making it to mile 50 feeling strong and having survived the heat is not something I should be ashamed of. Many much stronger and faster runners also dropped., I was certainly not alone.

Still I felt sad. I knew I had it in me to make it the full hundred. I knew I did.  And yet after all of my hard work and training, something sudden and completely unexpected happened which forced me to stop.  

Post Race Week

The pain in my leg was tolerable with walking but I was still anxious that it would be a stress fracture. Stress fractures can be deceiving. As the pain goes away, one may be tempted to begin running again when that is exactly the wrong thing to do.

Where a stress fracture in the foot might take only 6 weeks to heal, one in the tibia could take 8 to 12 weeks or more  and a pelvic stress fracture as long as 6 months.

If it were a stress fracture, and I could not run for three months, I'd be a basket case. 

I went to an orthopedic surgeon/sport med doc Tuesday. Dr. Papendick was very nice and did not tell me I was crazy for running as far as I do (even if he may have thought it).

An x-ray may not show any abnormality for 3 weeks, until bone remodeling begins. We decided to get an MRI. It proved to me why I had the feeling of something literally ripping apart inside my leg.  

I was relieved to learn I don't have a stress fracture. I have a tear or partial tear of one of the tendons on the antero-lateral portion of my lower tibia. It won't take as long as a stress fracture to heal. Its only a minor tendon, not an essential one such as the Achilles.

So what did I do wrong?

Nothing that I can tell. Sometimes things like this just happen. If running ultramarathons were easy and finishing was guaranteed, then everyone would be doing them.

In hindsight, I did feel some minor point tenderness at exactly the same location where the tear is after my last long run, the 42 miler I did a month ago. I am sure that was the beginning of it.  The pain went away in a couple of days so there was no warning how serious of an injury I would experience later.

I'm glad that it happened at the beginning of the off-season instead of in the spring. Hopefully with time and rest, I'll be back as strong as ever.

Some Final Thoughts

Even though I was and still am upset about not finishing or even going farther in distance than I ever have before, I have much to be grateful for.

I seem to have finally discovered the secret to staying hydrated and being able to eat during the heat of the day. I may still battle stomach problems in the future. However, with this run I have proven to myself beyond a doubt that it is possible for me to go far under difficult conditions while staying hydrated and well-fed.

I also did well in pacing myself conservatively but perfectly for the conditions. Not too fast and not too slow. I don't know what would've happened at mile 70 or 80 but I do know I did a good job pacing myself so I could get there.

In my heart and mind, I now truly believe, more than ever, that 100 miles is within my grasp.

Yes, it is.

Next time- and there will definitely be a next time- might be the time I succeed. If not, then as long as I learn and grow from each experience, it will be worth it.

I know I will finish 100 miles someday...I CAN and I WILL.

At the post-race ceremony, I looked around and realized, I was among friends. If anything, this race has proven to me that there is much more to ultrarunning than  running.

We all start every  race intending to finish. Ultrarunning, however,  is more than buckles, place or even finishing- quite simply it is about the people.

We may all run for different reasons and at different speeds but we are all in this together. These are my friends, this is my tribe. In this group of people, I  include not only other ultrarunners but also my family, friends, crew, volunteers and everyone who makes what we do possible.

Any of you who read this-  runner, walker or a little of both.... don't be afraid to come run, jog, shuffle, hike or walk with us.  What you do for a living, how fast or slow you are,  your age, your gender or your ethnicity, how many races you've run, how many you've finished and how many you've DNF'd- none of that matters. 

With open arms, we welcome you all  to join our family of ultrarunning.

Mitakuye Oyasin....

Next Sunday by this time (11 AM) I hope I will have already finished, or perhaps will be shuffling through the last couple of miles of the Lean Horse Hundred. I've started two previous 100 mile races but never made it past 64 or 66 miles.

I hope this year will be my year!

I'm putting together my drop bags and making sure my foot care/first aid box is fully stocked. My family will be crewing for me. Haliku is coming up from Denver to pace me. He's doing this even though he knows that by the time he does, my running/shuffling pace will be his walking pace.

There will be no reason for me to fail other than myself, my mind and my own mistakes.  

As the ultramarathon saying goes: "If you have done 26.2 miles, then you can do 50 miles... if you have done 50 miles, than you can do 100 miles!"

Having done several 50-60 mile runs, I am beyond ready to move up to doing... er, FINISHING.... 100 mile races.

Barring unforeseen circumstances such as coming down with an acute illness this week, or doing something dumb during race day, like not eating or drinking enough- there is no reason why I will not be able to do it.

Of course, being able to and actually doing are two vastly different things.

I am less nervous than I have ever been before. Actually, I'm eagerly looking forward to this adventure.. and it will certainly be a grand adventure. Bring it on! Let's git 'er done! 

I know that unexpected things can occur, indeed I expect that unexpected things will occur, but no matter what happens I will keep moving forward. There will be times when I will be exhausted, completely dejected and will want to stop. I know to expect them so I will be ready for them- but won't let them make me give up.

Before every DNF, I try to ask myself, "How will you feel about this in an hour after you've stopped and are riding in the car back to the hotel? You'll probably feel much better and as if you could've kept going. You'll regret DNFing all year until you get another chance next summer."

No DNFing!

Although I might be happy simply going further than ever before, I am not going to even think about that. If I start telling myself, "Going at least 70 or 80 miles would be OK," then it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy and that will be as far as I get.

NO! I will go the entire 100 miles this year! Not 70 or 80.... 

I know all about starting 100 mile races, now I just need to be confident that I can do the entire race. I have deep foundation of endurance built from all my previous races and training runs.  I have run over 50 miles several times and know what to expect. The real challenge of finishing 100 miles will be continuing through that second 50 miles.

However, as another saying goes: "When you think you have gone as far as you can possibly go, you're actually only half as far as you could get." The mind is weaker than the body. 

I've got my pacing chart put together to let me know when I am going too fast or to slow (and when the cut-offs are). I am already planning on walking the entire last 2 1/2 miles up the hill before Crazy Horse Monument so I don't bonk like last year.  It's only 2 1/2 out of 100, I can afford to do that.

After about 1 mile south of mile 64.5 aid station in Harbach Park in Custer, it's almost completely downhill until the finish.

The cut-offs for Lean Horse are soft- if you look like you're going to make it, then they'll let you go. They'll be packing up all afternoon in Hot Springs and won't pull you unless you need to be pulled because of safety or medical issues. This year, Jerry Dunn the Race Director is making a special effort so that all 25 first time 100 mile attemptors will finish. I will be among them.

As long as I don't do any avoidable mistakes, or simply give up, I can do it. After all, to finish 100 miles by the final cut-off of 30 hours, you only need to average 18 min/miles. That's only a easy walk for most of us!

This time, my third time will be the charm! I CAN and I WILL do this!!!

What will it be? ONE HUNDRED MILES......or DNF?

NOT!   NO DNFs for me!!!

 

One way to get psyched up about running an ultramarathon is to watch a movie about running an ultramarathon.I recently watched Massanutten- Two Runners, 100 miles.

As per the description at ZombieRunner:

"What kind of person runs 100 miles just for fun?

The answer to this question lies within the documentary Massanutten: Two Runners, 100 Miles, filmed at the 2006 running of the Massanutten Mountain Trail 100 (MMT) ultramarathon, near Front Royal, Virginia. The MMT gives participants 36 hours to run the 100 mile course, ascending 19,000 feet on roads and rocky trails. The two runners referenced in the title are Gary Knipling, 62, a gregarious 9-time finisher again taking on the MMT, and Kerry Owens, 43, a steadily improving competitor returning for her third run.

By following these personable runners throughout the course, the film emphasizes the social aspects while capturing the unique spirit of ultra-running. The idea is not to downplay the difficult nature of the sport but to show the many other facets of these long distance events - the participants' jovial camaraderie, mutual respect, and lasting friendships, and their enjoyment of the rigorous challenge. Other films have focused on the grueling task and the agony of the runners. While these elements do exist, the whole experience is another thing altogether. Although the race tests the runners mentally as well as physically, they support one another as they share its highs and lows.

Gary and Kerry, along with numerous race volunteers, pacers, and crews, reveal the true nature of competition in a 100 mile race, making this documentary a realistic picture of an event that outsiders can hardly imagine and participants come to love. " 

This video might not be as "slick" as some of the other race documentaries I have watched. Still, I liked it. I thought it gave an authentic view of what it is like to be an ultramarathoner. The only way to get a better experience is to become an ultrarunner yourself, or perhaps be a volunteer.

It's available at ZombieRunner for $20.00

 

Her name is Ruby.  She has red hair, freckles, and is very cute.  Ruby loves to run with me, no matter when or where I go. If I'm not careful, she'll even kiss me on my lips.

Jeanne doesn't mind when we run together, if fact she encourages it. As you can tell by the attached photos, Ruby is not human. She is our  4 month old red Australian Cattle Dog or "Heeler."

We lost our beloved Jake, a red/blue heeler in December. Our hearts were deeply saddened, but it was time. He was twelve. The last six months he was failing from liver failure.

At the very end, I could see the frustration and embarrassment in his eyes for us having to help him with even the most basic activities, like getting up to go to the bathroom. This was a dog who in his prime could jump into the back of a pick-up truck with the tail gate up. He would unquestioningly take on any opponent I told him to, four legged or otherwise. When I was away on business, I knew my family was safe with him sleeping at the foot of their bed.

Fortunately, Jake passed quietly in his sleep. We never had to take that one last trip to the veterinarian. 

I'm sure the feeling of helplessness and loss of control is the same with humans. Getting old sucks.   

Australian Cattle Dogs were developed to herd large wild aggressive cattle in Australia.  Weighing about 30 - 60 lbs, they are a mid-sized breed; neither too small or too large.  They are known to be highly intelligent and fearless in the face of danger. They are fiercely loyal to those they love.

They also have a stubborn independent streak, useful when working in the outback away from the direction of their master. Ruby definitely has inherited this type of personality. Because of this, Australian Cattle Dogs require  firm but understanding training. They are not for people unable to be the "alpha" of the dog/people pack. Timid personalities should get another breed.

As one acquaintance told me: "A heeler will be the best dog you've ever owned, or the worst.... there is no middle ground." I think that's true.   

Bred to be able to jog tirelessly for hours at a time droving cattle, they are perfect for people with active lifestyles. Jake used to love when we'd go horseback riding or packing up in the mountains. When I look at Ruby, I see many of the mannerisms we used to love in Jake. It makes me sad and miss him; but happy that we have another in our lives.

I have had only a very few dogs whom I could speak English to like another human and have them understand most of what I was saying. Maybe not every word, but at least the meaning. I'd tell Jake what I wanted. Most of the time he had an idea of what I was asking. If he didn't understand, I'd show him and then he knew forever.

I hope Ruby will turn out that way also.

You know you have a true running partner when they watch videos of ultramarathons with you. Even my family won't do that unless I make them (and I've an extremely understanding family).

I've had many dogs look at the TV before. Perhaps they were curious about other animals or dogs. This usually lasted only a few minutes before boredom set in and they moved on to something else. 

 As I sat and watched a video about the Massanutten 100 mile trail ultramarathon in Virginia, Ruby laid on my lap and watched the entire movie intently. She was very interested in the parts that had humans running. I've never had a dog watch an entire movie with me.  

We've just started doing some short runs together. Keeping her hydrated is one concern. Whenever I have ridden horses, worked cattle or run with dogs, I make sure we pass near a cattle water tank or stream to drink and cool off. Working dogs are so driven and focused on the task at hand that if you don't stop and remind them to drink, they quite literally may go until they drop.  

However, in the arid Black Hills sometimes good water can be hard to find. As you can see in the video above, the water in my Camelback will  hydrate both of us!

It'll be nice to have a friend come run with me. There are mountain lions here. Having another pair of eyes and a sensitive nose to watch my back is reassuring. Although there hven't been any mountain lion attacks on humans here unlike California, I don't want to be the first. 

So far, we've only gone on 3 to 5 mile runs. She is still a pup and her joints, bones and connective tissue have not fully developed. Soon, she will join me on 10, 20 and even 30 mile runs. I won't be able to keep up with her then.

She's a good dog!

Saturday=  30.1 miles

Sunday=    25.2 miles

Total =        55.3 miles

 I'm getting ready for Lean Horse. One hundred miles, here I come... 'Nuf said.

 

 

After finishing 2nd overall place at the PATOOT 10-k race a few weeks ago, I decided to do another short race.

The Runner's Shop, our local running store sponsors the Mystic Mountain 8 mile trail race (actually closer to 7.5 miles).

I decided to try it in my Five Finger KSOs. I admit that I am hooked to them. I can't run as fast in rocks because I must pick and choose my way carefully but I love how I can feel the earth beneath my feet.

For someone who is already slow, what's the problem with being a few minutes slower?

As usual, many noticed my unusual footwear and some asked me about them.

Maybe I'll start a trend? 

I saw two colleagues, a nephrologist and a cardiologist, whom I know. It was nice to see people that I know from outside the running community. Now if only we could get more of our patients out and exercising, walking even.

The first few miles were on gravel road to the town-site of Mystic. As usual, the speed goats sprinted off. I'm used to more sedate starts. At ultras, even the elite begin at an easy relaxed jog. Of course a relaxed jog for them is speed training for me.  

Along the way, I saw a guy who I had met at Lean Horse Hundred last year. He works for Fed-Ex. He was wearing the US Flag colors again, that is the only way I recognized him. He DNF'd at Lean Horse Hundred at mile 55 (I dropped at mile 65). He is planning on trying for 100 miles again this year so I'll see him at the race.

Hopefully we will both be able to do it!

The race soon left the gravel and headed up a single track, the Bright Angel Trail. Many took it fast, but I caught a few later as the tired.

My kind of running!

Parts of the trail were rocky and I had to slow down to pick my way. It hurts to kick a rock in shoes, in the KSOs you might break a toe. Ow! I don't want to do that.

One of the fun things about KSOs is that you can run right through mud puddles and streams. In shoes, you try to avoid water to keep from getting blisters. In KSOs, there is nothing to rub on and they are so light and minimal that they dry out in 50 yards or so.

As I came up one hill, suddenly I felt severe pain in my calf. I'd pulled a calf muscle!

I had never had anything like this before. I stopped and tried rubbing the pain out and stretching but to no avail. I was reduced to walking up the last big hill before the finish.

At the top, the aid station remarked how impressed he was that I was doing the race in KSOs. He would've been more impressed had I been actually running at that time.

He told me there were only two miles left and they were all downhill.

Really?

Running downhill did not hurt as much because it did not put as much stress on my calves and achilles. 

Hmmmm.... I started jogging and then running. Even though it hurt, I was able to ignore it. All pain ends- eventually.

I decided to blast down that hill to the finish. I ended up passing five people (or was it six?) on the way down. I never get to do that in ultras. If someone is close enough for me to see, chances are we'll end up running and finishing together. Ultras are about running with and not against others.

My calves were tight and sore all week. Soaking in the hot tub, a few acupuncture needles, using the foam roller and taking naproxen helped. 

So what happened?

I know exactly the cause: running down the rocky trail forced me up on my toes. Although that protected my heels, it stressed my calves and achilles in ways they had not been before. That overstressed them and eventually led to a pulled muscle.

As soon as I'm done with this post, I'll be out the door to do a 30+ mile long run. I can barely feel as if I did anything to my calves last weekend. I'll be wearing shoes today, my feet need a break. I love the KSOs, I might even try a 26.2m or a 50k in them someday. But as with anything new or different, I need to be careful to not be too overzealous and injure myself.

Fortunately, this seems to only be a minor acute injury. I can handle those- it's those nagging chronic overuse injuries that worry me the most. I'd be stir-crazy if I had to take weeks or months off from running entirely.

Run on!   

In addition to this personal blog on ultrarunning,  I also maintain a professional blog on the website of the medical journal: Endocrine Today.  Occasionally, my personal and professional interests intersect and I get to write a post about extreme endurance activity from a medical perspective.

I recently wrote a blog post at the Endocrine Today site reviewing the causes and treatment of exercise induced hyponatremia from a physiologic and medical perspective

For many years, at least through the 1960s, runners were advised to not consume any or very much water during runs. As the negative effects of dehyration were realized, the pendulum sung the other way and runners were encouraged to "Hydrate! Hydrate! Hydrate!" without understanding that it might be possible to get too much of a good thing.

It wasn't until the mid-1980s and several deaths during and after marathons and ultramarathons that the potential dangers of too much fluid intake were recognized. Taking in more water than can be excreted results in hyponatremia or lowering of blood sodium (ie salt). In it's mildest form, exercise induced hyponatermia results in bloating, swelling and frequent urination. At it's worst, severe hypontremia can cause confusion, seizure and even death.

At first medical personell were unaware of the dangers of hyponatremia.  When a runner was confused or collapsed, they automatically  gave them intravenous fluids, assuming -incorrectly- that they must be dehydrated. After several deaths, it was realized that the IV fluids actually cause more harm than goodin many cases. Indeed, the IV fluids may have been the direct cause of several deaths by worsening the overhydration and hyponatremia.

Despite how well-informed runners now may be about the dangers of over-hydration and low blood sodium, I am surprised how many medical personel at races do not understand the implications of exercise-induced hyponatremia and how to manage correctly.

We must remember however, that most of the EMTs and other medical staff at races are not runners or endurance athletes themselves.  

 

We were in Iowa for our niece Stephanie’s wedding.  At the pre-wedding reception Friday night, I heard that as part of PATOOT, there was going to be a 5k and a 10k run the next day.

What’s PATOOT?

My wife’s hometown, Peterson, Iowa celebrates PATOOT or Peterson Annual Trip on Old Tractors every year. Locals bring their antique tractors to Main Street and then ride them in a parade around the community and on nearby back roads.

 “What the heck!” I thought, “I’ve never run in an official 10k race before-why not do it?”  

I was planning on doing 5 to 10 mile training run anyway; I decided to do the race instead. The proceeds go to benefit the local X-country team.

 Since last week, I’ve been running in my new Vibram Five Finger KSOs on trails and gravel roads. My feet are slowing getting used to running without my toes scrunched together. I love how the KSOs allow me to sense the ground below me but without the pain of going completely barefoot. The best I can describe how they feel is: they are custom removable calluses for your feet. You can feel everything, every pebble and rock- but it doesn't hurt.

I only have had some trace soreness as the muscles of my feet and ankles adapt to this new way of running. I plan on writing a more full prduct review in a future post, once I run some more miles in them. 

I was curious how the KSOs might handle on a paved road.  Would my feet hold up? Would it hurt?

10k or 6.2 miles is normally barely enough for me to get warmed up. If the KSOs didn’t work out, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d just slow down, stop or even walk if I had to.  Recalling my recent dismal performance at Bighorn, I thought dejectly, “of course, your pretty good at that.”

Most of the other runners were kids in their 20s or less. There were only a handful of us old farts over 40.  We started at 8AM and the young speed rabbits sprinted off. After running so many ultramarathons, it is difficult for me to begin a race quickly, even when I know I’m only going a few miles. It takes me at least four or five miles before my muscles are even loosened up.

Slowly I passed several people as I found my stride.

A woman commented about how hard these hills are going to be. I smiled and glanced back, “These definitely  aren’t hills!” I said, thinking about the Bighorn Mountains of Wyoming last week.

One thing about KSOs, they force you to run with proper technique. No ground slapping or pounding the pavement with them.  Doing that would chatter your teeth, rattle your brain, bruise your heels  and shake every other part of your body.

On the other hand, running shoes allow you to run sloppy, land heel first and without paying attention to how you are landing. You might get away with being sloppy for awhile. However, even in shoes, after long distances such poor running technique will catch up with you.

I tried to stay on the soft shoulder when I could. When some of the gravel became too sharp, I moved temporarily onto the asphalt. The painted smooth white line on the hard asphalt felt good underfoot.

As we headed out of town, I saw a young kid in red shorts a few hundred yards ahead of me. He was pushing on and moving fast, “there’s no way for me to catch him,” I thought.  We turned around at the 2 mile turnaround and headed back to town. Everyone else was in back of us and falling further behind.

With no one else near me, I decided to ease off on my pace a bit. Why rush when there’s no reason?

We passed back through town and I was surprised to when the kid with red shorts suddenly came up from behind me. I don’t know where he had gone, maybe a bathroom break? Maybe he had gotten side-tracked and missed a turn? His face held an expression of pain. I told him, “Looking good!” as he passed me but he could only muster a weak, “thanks” in return.

He moved ahead and even stopped to walk for a minute. As I caught up with him again, he started running.

I wondered, “Should I stay close behind and try fighting him for first place?”

“Nah, why would I want to do that? I’m having a really good day, I might as well enjoy it,” realizing that if I did try to race him to the finish, I’d be hurting at least as much as he was.

Go on; call me lazy if you wish.  I don’t mind pain during ultras but this was just a training jog for me.

I thought, “He obviously wants this more than I do.”  So I let him keep the few hundred yard lead he’d built on me.

As we turned around again and headed towards the finish, I saw the rest of the pack far behind us. I smiled, gave a “thumbs up” sign and shouted “Looking good! Run strong!”  They smiled back at me.

I don’t know if encouraging other runners is proper 10k etiquette but I don’t care.

I am and will always be an ultramarathoner at heart; it does not matter whether I am running in a 10k or a 100k.  Ultrarunners encourage all other runners whether we/they are in first or last place. We are all brothers and sisters; we’re in this together. We do not compete against one another but rather with each other. Ultrarunning is about the experience, facing adversity, learning about yourself and surpassing your limitations. Where you end up placing at the finish line does not matter: to finish is to win. It’s as simple as that.

Not far from the finish, I saw two 5k-ers walking. I slowed enough to talk with them briefly. None of the other 10k-ers was even close to me, so I chatted for a moment before I floated on to the finish.

Even though I had no reason to doubt it during most of the race, I was still surprised when I finished 2^nd overall!

I prefer trails over roads and ultras over races on roads, but I definitely see the draw of these shorter races. After this race, I felt energized rather than exhausted as I am after an ultra. I had plenty of energy to enjoy the wedding and visiting with family. If I had run an ultra, I would have been too tired to do much more than sit, rest and eat.

The others were curious about my footwear. After the race I explained what Vibram Five Fingers are and what my limited experience with them thus far has been. My feet felt great after this, even despite running almost entirely on pavement. I only have a slight hot spot at the base of my big toe. That amazes me!

Perhaps running shoes are an unnecessary luxury as so many barefoot runners claim they are?

Perhaps the need for motion control, arch support and cushioning is a myth perpetuated by running shoe manufacturers to sell more shoes?

The race organizers and 5kers who were already finished, commented on how I had jogged in effortlessly not even breathing hard. They were right; I guess that's what happens when you train for a 50 mile race and go only 18 miles. Although I had run this 10k faster than I might for a usual weekend training run, I certainly didn’t give it my all- this was just a Saturday morning jog for me.

I wonder:  could I have finished first had I tried harder? I don’t know. However, I do know that that young guy in the red shorts wanted it a heck-of-a-lot worse than I did- so he absolutely deserved it.

 My performance at this race was a complete surprise to me. I definitely prefer surprises such as this where I do better than expected compared to the opposite kind of surprise  as happened last weekend at Bighorn 50 mile.  

I feel that I’ve redeemed myself, at least just a little, by how well I did at this race even if it wasn’t an ultra.  After every DNF, the demons of self-doubt creep into your mind. Are you really cut out to be a runner? Who do you think you are entering these races? 

Having many more miles under my feet, the sting of a DNF is not as sharp as it used to be but it’s still there.  It doesn’t disappear until you redeem yourself in another race.

After this run, I smiled to myself and thought, “Gosh, I really AM a runner after all!”

Until next time my friends: run WELL and run STRONG!

Below is the trailer for the documentary "Dancing the Bear."  As per their description:

"The ancient tradition of long distance trail running continues in modern times, stripped of its mythology but still potent as a transformative event.

The Bear 100-Mile Endurance Run is the backdrop for the story of two women and their emotional journey through southern Idaho's Bear River Mountain Range. Pushing their bodies to the limit, they strive to accomplish the impossible, to run 100 miles of wild mountain trails in less than 35 hours"

Although it may be on the fringe right now, going long has been a part of human history ever since we first got up on two legs to hunt/gather our food, run away to safety and stay in touch with our neighbors. For many of us, ultrarunning is as much a spiritual endeavor as it is a physical one. There is something primal about running all day and all night through difficult terrain and under impossible conditions.  

This is an inspiring video; another to keep in the library and watch before an important race. For non-running friends and family, this documentary confirms how nuts they already know we are; for ultrarunners, it reminds us of why we do what we do. The DVD is available for $21.95 at my favorite on-line running store: ZombieRunner.

Hmmm....this sounds like a race I might want to attempt someday.... another ultra to add to my wish list.