Saturday, May 1st - Miwok 100K
Sunday 5/2- Off
Monday 5/3- Off
Tuesday 5/4- 2 hours
Wed -5/5 - 2 hours
Thursday 5/6 - 2 hours (2 x 30 at LT, uphill on treadmill - first running, second walking)
Friday 5/7 - 2 hours
Saturday 5/8 - 3.5 hours
Sunday 5/9 - 3.5 hours
Monday 5/10 - 3 hours (2 am, 1 pm)
Tuesday 5/11 - 3 hours (2 am, 1 pm)
Wednesday 5/12 - 2 hours (35 min at LT - 7% incline 6.7 + 35 min at LT 13.5% incline 4.0 walk/run)
Thursday 5/13 - 3 hours (2 am, 1 pm)
Friday 5/14 - 2 hours (am)
Saturday 5/15 - 6 hours
Sunday off
Monday 5/17 - 3 hours. First Day on the Sierra (2:30 am - Michigan Bluff to Deadwood; 0:30 pm, Robie Pt to Finish Line and Back)
Tuesday 5/18 - 3 hours. 1:30 trying to find my way from Michigan Bluff to Bath Road (unsuccessful attempt subject of a different posting). 1:00 track work (4 x 1000 at 4:03 minutes). 0:30 Stadium to Robie Pt and back.
Wednesday 5/19 - 3:30 hours Michigan Bluff to Pump and back
Thursday 5/20 - 3:00 hours. 2:20 for 2 X MB to El Dorado and back (1st time running 38 min, 2nd time fast walking 42 minutes). 0:40 pm from Robie Point to No Hands and back.
Friday 5/21 - 2:20 hours. Robie Point to Hwy 49 and back. Very slow.
Satruday 5/22 - 6:00 hours. Michigan Bluff to Last chance and back.
Sunday 5/23 - 2:15 hours in snow Soda Springs Road
Monday 5/24 - 3:10 total. 2:20 am (Volcano Canyon) and 0:50 pm (No Hands Bridge to Robbie and back)
Tuesday 5/25 - 3:00 total. 2:00 am (Soda Springs Road in Snow) 1:00 pm (Track to Robbie and back plus 4 x 1000 @ 4 minutes).
Wednesday 5/26 - 3:24 total. Foresthill to Driver's Flat (did FH to Cal street twice, forgot keys).
Thursday 5/27 - 2:00 total. 2 X LT. First 45 minutes at 7% and 6.7 pace. Second 35 min 14% and 4.00. Cut it short because of pain in left calf.
Friday 5/28 - Off. First day off in 12 days.
Saturday 5/29 - 9:00 hours. 45 miles. From start of N44 (couldn't get to Robinson Flats because of snow) to Foresthill and unto Rucky Chucky.
Sunday 5/30 - Off. 2+ hours at gym.
Monday 5/31- 4:00 hours. 22 miles. From 2 miles north of GreenGate to Western States Finish Line.
Tuesday 6/1 - 2:00 hours slow running 10minute pace, treadmill @6000 ft. 50 minutes on bike, relatively hard. 1+ hr at gym.
Wednesday 6/2: 2 hours at 6000 feet (8 25 second strides). 1 hour gym. Didn't feel great
Thursday 6/3: 2 hours (45 minutes at LT 7% incline 6.7 pace, 30 minutes 13.5% incline at 4 pace). 50 minutes bike relatively hard for quads. 90 minutes strength training. All at altitude
Friday 6/4: 2 hours.
Saturday 6/5: 6+ hours, 27 miles, Michigan Bluff to Last Chance and back to Michigan Bluff
Sunday 6/6: OFF - Taper officially begins today.
Miwok 100K
Rule of thumb is to double the finish time at Miwok 100k to estimate the finish time at Western States 100M. If that's the case, 24 hours is not looking so good for me. I finished Miwok in 12 hours and 20 minutes, despite feeling quite strong on the first 57 miles (the last 4 miles are another story altogether). This puts my Western States finish closer to 25 hours.
A more careful analysis of the Race Results of those runners who finished Western States in under 24 hours in 2009 tells me that a 10:30 Miwok is an even better barometer for a sub-24 Western States finish. There is no way I could have finished Miwok in 10:30! Not even if I had not come apart (as I did) during the last four miles.
So, I've got two choices. Go hard for a sub-24 at WS from the very beginning and risk a DNF somewhere after 50 miles, or run within my limits, reduce the probability of a DNF, and get to the finish line in whatever time I can.
I think I'll take a finish over a DNF any time. I'll still try to get there sub-24, but I'm going to curve my "at-all-cost" approach.
A more careful analysis of the Race Results of those runners who finished Western States in under 24 hours in 2009 tells me that a 10:30 Miwok is an even better barometer for a sub-24 Western States finish. There is no way I could have finished Miwok in 10:30! Not even if I had not come apart (as I did) during the last four miles.
So, I've got two choices. Go hard for a sub-24 at WS from the very beginning and risk a DNF somewhere after 50 miles, or run within my limits, reduce the probability of a DNF, and get to the finish line in whatever time I can.
I think I'll take a finish over a DNF any time. I'll still try to get there sub-24, but I'm going to curve my "at-all-cost" approach.
Leona Divide 50 Miler
If suffering is part of training, I did plenty of training at Leona Divide 50.
I probably ran too fast the first miles keeping up with my buddy Eric, who always takes off like a banshee at the start of every ultra, and that might have hurt me later on in the race. At Western States, the Robinson Curse says that the top 10 runners into Robison Flats (mile 30) are seldom the top 10 runners at the stadium (finish line). At one point during the first few miles someone said that we were doing sub-8 minute miles going uphill; that’s just not smart ultra-running.
By mile 13, I was feeling a small twinge on my left knee that was not letting me run with even cadence. Still, I was running strong.
Eric and I arrived to the third aid station at mile 16 within a few seconds apart. I picked up a knee strap from my drop bag. Eric replaced his black shirt with a lighter color shirt because of the heat and off we went. The 3rd and 8th aid stations at miles 16 and 42, respectively, are at the same location because of the out and back nature of the course. These were the only aid stations where would see Eric’s wife, Denise, who was crewing for Eric (but somehow always finds time to take care of me as well).
I decided to listen to some tunes (a first for me in any ultra) to test if I may want to do the same at Western States. Perhaps the music gave my legs a nice pep since I left Eric behind on the first hill after the third aid station. I was running well until my left knee suddenly gave out on me on a downhill. I literally could not take a step without feeling as if my left knee was about to collapse. I walked for a few yards thinking that I would probably have to drop from the race at the next aid station. But after adjusting my knee strap and running tentatively for a mile, the problem somehow fixed itself, and I was able to continue.
It was a hot day, and I was no longer feeling well. My legs were tired (maybe from last week’s 50 miler), I had some nausea, and the relentless hills were beginning to take a toll on me. I arrived at the fourth aid-station, which was also the turn-around for the 50km race, and thought of dropping down to the 50km race but that would have been like quitting and quitting races can become a habit so I put the thought out of my mind. I remember reading the story from Brian Morrison who arrived first to the stadium at Western States 2007 about how often he thought of quitting during the entire race. If a front runner thinks about quitting yet manages to arrive first to the finish, then it’s just a matter of willpower. The body is constantly seeking to quit, and the mind knows that quitting is the smarter thing to do (after all, you are not being chased by a tiger). Willpower must overtake both mind and body. My strongest motivation to not quit is the bad example that my quitting would give to my son.
After running uphill for miles and miles, I finally arrived to an aid station that had beautiful, cheerful girls in tight shorts and tutus. They would run to greet runners and would take our water bottles so these would be refilled by the time we officially arrived to the aid station table. I almost fell down looking at one of the girls instead of the trail.
The cheerfulness of the girls was not able to overcome my demoralized state when I learned that I was only at mile 23. My God, I was not even done with ½ the race. I still had a full marathon to go, and I had absolutely no idea how I was going to be able to do it. I left the aid station demoralized by the task ahead of me, not knowing how long it would be or how many runners would pass me before I saw the tutu girls again at mile 35 on my way back.
Because the course didn’t quite cover exactly the same path out and back, the turn-around for the race was at mile 29. I barely avoided a collision with the front runners as they passed me on their return at about my mile 25 which would be their mile 33. I removed my headphones so I could listen for more runners and avoid problems in the narrow single track trail carved at the edge of the mountain.
The last 2 ½ miles prior to the turn-around was a fire road with a 1,000 foot drop. I barely remember what was going on with me by then. I was not able to run well. I was not thinking straight. I was tired. I had nausea. I was dizzy. I was hot. The altitude was only 5,000 feet, but it felt as if I were running at 10,000 feet. My buddy Eric caught up with me at the turn-around, and I simply followed him on the way back so I didn’t have to think. Neither of us must have looked well as a woman runner just starting her 2 ½ mile descent to the turn-around told us that we looked as if we were on a death march. Still, we were five miles ahead of her, and my buddy felt like giving her a piece of his mind but was too much of a gentlemen to do so.
Always a few steps behind Eric in my auto-stupid mode, we arrived to the aid station with the tutu girls where two cute ones just a few yards before it were slapping the butts of the runners as they would run by (can’t complain with that). I asked one of the tutu girls at the aid station to scratch my back, “I’m a runner,” she says, “it’s the salt that is making you itch.” She proceeds not only to scratch me but to hug me. “I must stink by now,” I said. She said, “that doesn’t matter, I’m also a runner.” This was a peace and love aid station from the 60’s, only the pot was missing.
I had not peed since mile 16 so I forced myself to pee just a few yards after the aid station to see if my problem was dehydration. OMG, my urine was dark orange in color and scant. I was severely dehydrated.
I drink two bottles of water and take two more salt tables (I always take one Succeed salt tablet with every 20 oz of water) before the next aid station three miles ahead. Still, my nausea persists – I’m constantly at the verge of throwing up. I even have stitches on my side - a first ever for me on an ultra. I continue to follow Eric who is doing a great job pacing us, but my legs are now beginning to cramp. I don’t understand what’s going on with me. I have maintained my salt intake, the usual cause of cramping.
Eric pushes it hard downhill to mile 42, probably bolstered by the prospects of seeing his wife there. I keep following him until we finally arrive to the aid station. I must have not looked well, as Denise is trying to take care of me instead of Eric. The aid station volunteers were wonderful. They put ice on my neck and refilled my bottles with ice-cold water. I changed my socks while Denise would bring me Gatorade and ice water. As an excellent crew, she knew she had to push us out of the aid-station and so she did.
We walked much of the 1,000 foot climb from that aid station. My nausea persisted, and I had to force myself to swallow a GU every so often though I was at the verge of puking. The walking respite, however, helped me as I was much stronger by the time we reached the top of the mountain. With four miles to go and all downhill, I was in much better shape, and now it was me pushing Eric to the finish. We passed a number of runners on their death marches during the last 4 miles and we finished quite strong in 9 hours and 40 minutes. That was about ½ hour faster than my 2007 finish.
I tested my blood when I got back at the hotel and discovered that the culprit of my troubles was severe dehydration. I was probably down a couple of liters of water, the result of the heat without proper heat training. My glucose was high but the reason for this was also dehydration. I simply didn’t have enough plasma to dilute it. This is why I was having such a difficult time swallowing GU’s. My body’s glucose level was already high enough, and it didn’t want any more. My sodium was low (hence the cramping), but this was also a byproduct of not taking enough water (as I would have taken more salt with every additional bottle of water). I knew this during the race, but didn’t want to take too much water just in case I was wrong. Overyhydration is much more dangerous that underhydration, particularly when the overhydration is from lack of sodium. But without a scale to measure one's weight (as they have at Western States) it’s not always possible to make the right call just on the symptoms, which are often similar. I erred on the side of safety just in case I was wrong and that’s ok, after all, it was just another training run.
I probably ran too fast the first miles keeping up with my buddy Eric, who always takes off like a banshee at the start of every ultra, and that might have hurt me later on in the race. At Western States, the Robinson Curse says that the top 10 runners into Robison Flats (mile 30) are seldom the top 10 runners at the stadium (finish line). At one point during the first few miles someone said that we were doing sub-8 minute miles going uphill; that’s just not smart ultra-running.
By mile 13, I was feeling a small twinge on my left knee that was not letting me run with even cadence. Still, I was running strong.
Eric and I arrived to the third aid station at mile 16 within a few seconds apart. I picked up a knee strap from my drop bag. Eric replaced his black shirt with a lighter color shirt because of the heat and off we went. The 3rd and 8th aid stations at miles 16 and 42, respectively, are at the same location because of the out and back nature of the course. These were the only aid stations where would see Eric’s wife, Denise, who was crewing for Eric (but somehow always finds time to take care of me as well).
I decided to listen to some tunes (a first for me in any ultra) to test if I may want to do the same at Western States. Perhaps the music gave my legs a nice pep since I left Eric behind on the first hill after the third aid station. I was running well until my left knee suddenly gave out on me on a downhill. I literally could not take a step without feeling as if my left knee was about to collapse. I walked for a few yards thinking that I would probably have to drop from the race at the next aid station. But after adjusting my knee strap and running tentatively for a mile, the problem somehow fixed itself, and I was able to continue.
It was a hot day, and I was no longer feeling well. My legs were tired (maybe from last week’s 50 miler), I had some nausea, and the relentless hills were beginning to take a toll on me. I arrived at the fourth aid-station, which was also the turn-around for the 50km race, and thought of dropping down to the 50km race but that would have been like quitting and quitting races can become a habit so I put the thought out of my mind. I remember reading the story from Brian Morrison who arrived first to the stadium at Western States 2007 about how often he thought of quitting during the entire race. If a front runner thinks about quitting yet manages to arrive first to the finish, then it’s just a matter of willpower. The body is constantly seeking to quit, and the mind knows that quitting is the smarter thing to do (after all, you are not being chased by a tiger). Willpower must overtake both mind and body. My strongest motivation to not quit is the bad example that my quitting would give to my son.
After running uphill for miles and miles, I finally arrived to an aid station that had beautiful, cheerful girls in tight shorts and tutus. They would run to greet runners and would take our water bottles so these would be refilled by the time we officially arrived to the aid station table. I almost fell down looking at one of the girls instead of the trail.
The cheerfulness of the girls was not able to overcome my demoralized state when I learned that I was only at mile 23. My God, I was not even done with ½ the race. I still had a full marathon to go, and I had absolutely no idea how I was going to be able to do it. I left the aid station demoralized by the task ahead of me, not knowing how long it would be or how many runners would pass me before I saw the tutu girls again at mile 35 on my way back.
Because the course didn’t quite cover exactly the same path out and back, the turn-around for the race was at mile 29. I barely avoided a collision with the front runners as they passed me on their return at about my mile 25 which would be their mile 33. I removed my headphones so I could listen for more runners and avoid problems in the narrow single track trail carved at the edge of the mountain.
The last 2 ½ miles prior to the turn-around was a fire road with a 1,000 foot drop. I barely remember what was going on with me by then. I was not able to run well. I was not thinking straight. I was tired. I had nausea. I was dizzy. I was hot. The altitude was only 5,000 feet, but it felt as if I were running at 10,000 feet. My buddy Eric caught up with me at the turn-around, and I simply followed him on the way back so I didn’t have to think. Neither of us must have looked well as a woman runner just starting her 2 ½ mile descent to the turn-around told us that we looked as if we were on a death march. Still, we were five miles ahead of her, and my buddy felt like giving her a piece of his mind but was too much of a gentlemen to do so.
Always a few steps behind Eric in my auto-stupid mode, we arrived to the aid station with the tutu girls where two cute ones just a few yards before it were slapping the butts of the runners as they would run by (can’t complain with that). I asked one of the tutu girls at the aid station to scratch my back, “I’m a runner,” she says, “it’s the salt that is making you itch.” She proceeds not only to scratch me but to hug me. “I must stink by now,” I said. She said, “that doesn’t matter, I’m also a runner.” This was a peace and love aid station from the 60’s, only the pot was missing.
I had not peed since mile 16 so I forced myself to pee just a few yards after the aid station to see if my problem was dehydration. OMG, my urine was dark orange in color and scant. I was severely dehydrated.
I drink two bottles of water and take two more salt tables (I always take one Succeed salt tablet with every 20 oz of water) before the next aid station three miles ahead. Still, my nausea persists – I’m constantly at the verge of throwing up. I even have stitches on my side - a first ever for me on an ultra. I continue to follow Eric who is doing a great job pacing us, but my legs are now beginning to cramp. I don’t understand what’s going on with me. I have maintained my salt intake, the usual cause of cramping.
Eric pushes it hard downhill to mile 42, probably bolstered by the prospects of seeing his wife there. I keep following him until we finally arrive to the aid station. I must have not looked well, as Denise is trying to take care of me instead of Eric. The aid station volunteers were wonderful. They put ice on my neck and refilled my bottles with ice-cold water. I changed my socks while Denise would bring me Gatorade and ice water. As an excellent crew, she knew she had to push us out of the aid-station and so she did.
We walked much of the 1,000 foot climb from that aid station. My nausea persisted, and I had to force myself to swallow a GU every so often though I was at the verge of puking. The walking respite, however, helped me as I was much stronger by the time we reached the top of the mountain. With four miles to go and all downhill, I was in much better shape, and now it was me pushing Eric to the finish. We passed a number of runners on their death marches during the last 4 miles and we finished quite strong in 9 hours and 40 minutes. That was about ½ hour faster than my 2007 finish.
I tested my blood when I got back at the hotel and discovered that the culprit of my troubles was severe dehydration. I was probably down a couple of liters of water, the result of the heat without proper heat training. My glucose was high but the reason for this was also dehydration. I simply didn’t have enough plasma to dilute it. This is why I was having such a difficult time swallowing GU’s. My body’s glucose level was already high enough, and it didn’t want any more. My sodium was low (hence the cramping), but this was also a byproduct of not taking enough water (as I would have taken more salt with every additional bottle of water). I knew this during the race, but didn’t want to take too much water just in case I was wrong. Overyhydration is much more dangerous that underhydration, particularly when the overhydration is from lack of sodium. But without a scale to measure one's weight (as they have at Western States) it’s not always possible to make the right call just on the symptoms, which are often similar. I erred on the side of safety just in case I was wrong and that’s ok, after all, it was just another training run.
UC Davis VO2 Max and Lactate Thrshold Test
Update on myVO2 Max and Lactate Threshold Tests at UC Davis to come...
2007 Test Posting at: http://2007ws100.blogspot.com/2006/08/uc-davis-sports-performance-program.html
2007 Test Posting at: http://2007ws100.blogspot.com/2006/08/uc-davis-sports-performance-program.html
American River 50 Miler
Struggled to finish another relatively easy 50 miler.
Did the first 26.2 miles (marathon distance) in about 3 hours and 50 minutes, which had me in place 101 out of 700 runnners. But gave up 17 places during the last half of the race, covering about the same distance in almost 5 hours.
At one point-in-time I had been running for exactly 5 hours and 15 minutes when I told myself that I wouldn't look at my watch again until I had been running for a long time more. After what seemed to be an eternity, I looked at my watch again: 5 hours and 17 minutes! Ugh!
I followed Herb Tanzer step by step from mile 38 to mile 48, as the 58 year-old runner told me that he had completed this race 17 times before. What he failed to mention was that he was a former Western States champion! Glad he didn't tell me that as otherwise I might have not had the guts to follow him for so long.
Also ran along side Bill Finkbeiner from mile 48 to 49.5. It was Bill who told me that Herb (who was just a few paces ahead of us then) was a former WS champion. But come to find out, Bill is an ultra-legend himself - a four-time, top-10 Western States finisher who has completed 26 100-mile Ledvilles in a row! As you can see, the ultra community is really nuts.
Perhaps the knowledge that I had been running along the side of two legends invigorated me since I was able to sprint the last 1/2 mile (uphill) and finish ahead of both Herb and Bill (who decided to finished the race together).
Did the first 26.2 miles (marathon distance) in about 3 hours and 50 minutes, which had me in place 101 out of 700 runnners. But gave up 17 places during the last half of the race, covering about the same distance in almost 5 hours.
At one point-in-time I had been running for exactly 5 hours and 15 minutes when I told myself that I wouldn't look at my watch again until I had been running for a long time more. After what seemed to be an eternity, I looked at my watch again: 5 hours and 17 minutes! Ugh!
I followed Herb Tanzer step by step from mile 38 to mile 48, as the 58 year-old runner told me that he had completed this race 17 times before. What he failed to mention was that he was a former Western States champion! Glad he didn't tell me that as otherwise I might have not had the guts to follow him for so long.
Also ran along side Bill Finkbeiner from mile 48 to 49.5. It was Bill who told me that Herb (who was just a few paces ahead of us then) was a former WS champion. But come to find out, Bill is an ultra-legend himself - a four-time, top-10 Western States finisher who has completed 26 100-mile Ledvilles in a row! As you can see, the ultra community is really nuts.
Perhaps the knowledge that I had been running along the side of two legends invigorated me since I was able to sprint the last 1/2 mile (uphill) and finish ahead of both Herb and Bill (who decided to finished the race together).
50K, 50K, 50M
I was able to complete three training races in March. Two 50 K's and one 50 Miler.
None of the races were easy; it's always a struggle to get to the end no matter what's the distance.
No falls, no injuries, no bio problems. Just the usual demons that visit most runners on the last 1/3 of the race.
On the 50 miler, I paced a good buddy for the last 12 miles as he was struggling with more demons than I was. I learned a lesson in the process: Don't slow down too much as otherwise the body gets "cold," and it's impossible to get it moving at a good pace again. Do short sprints when tired to rev up the engine and run faster (easier said than done).
None of the races were easy; it's always a struggle to get to the end no matter what's the distance.
No falls, no injuries, no bio problems. Just the usual demons that visit most runners on the last 1/3 of the race.
On the 50 miler, I paced a good buddy for the last 12 miles as he was struggling with more demons than I was. I learned a lesson in the process: Don't slow down too much as otherwise the body gets "cold," and it's impossible to get it moving at a good pace again. Do short sprints when tired to rev up the engine and run faster (easier said than done).
Back on the Saddle
The break, while necessary to heal and recharge batteries, set me back quite a bit from a fitness perspective. January was a brutal month, and I didn't quite succeed in resuming my routine of four, 2-hour runs during weekdays with two longer, 3 to 4 hour runs on weekends. Even my stomach revolted. My first long run resulted in having to throw my underwear out and so did my last long run of the month. Go figure!
February has been a little better. I'm running about 14 hours per week now and should be able to push that to around 16 per week by March. I also did the 50K Cool Trail Run in Cool, CA, which turned out to be 34 miles and not 30. Four extra miles might not seem like much, but any additional mileage at the end of an ultra is always arduous. A portion of this run takes place along the Western States trail, so it was a good training run.
I'm scheduled to run another 50K run in February and then:
March: Two 50K's and one 50 Miler
April: Two 50 Milers
May: One 100K, one 50 Miler, and the WS Training Runs (70 miles over 3 days)
June 5th should be my last race (a 50 Miler) before Western States later that month.
But in ultras, things don't always go as planned... so let's see how things turn out.
February has been a little better. I'm running about 14 hours per week now and should be able to push that to around 16 per week by March. I also did the 50K Cool Trail Run in Cool, CA, which turned out to be 34 miles and not 30. Four extra miles might not seem like much, but any additional mileage at the end of an ultra is always arduous. A portion of this run takes place along the Western States trail, so it was a good training run.
I'm scheduled to run another 50K run in February and then:
March: Two 50K's and one 50 Miler
April: Two 50 Milers
May: One 100K, one 50 Miler, and the WS Training Runs (70 miles over 3 days)
June 5th should be my last race (a 50 Miler) before Western States later that month.
But in ultras, things don't always go as planned... so let's see how things turn out.
Time To Rest
I finished the JFK 50 miler in 7 hours and 57 minutes, 76th out of approximately 1300 starters. Aside from the first 16 miles over the Appalachian Trail, this is a relatively easy run following the Potomac River along a former tow path for almost one half of the race. But its relative ease allows runners to push it faster without the usual and much useful walking breaks to hike steep hills. This, in turn, results in injuries and a whole set of other problems.
The last 1/2 of this race was not easy for me. Unbeknownst to me, I was overhydrated and low in sodium. I was very hot during a cold day, and this should have served as a clue that I was not sweating enough due to low sodium. But because the day was so cold, I never gave much consideration to my total sodium intake. In any event, I learned something new, though I suffered unnecessarily for 4 hours.
I ran this race in 2005 and gave a colorful description of that
race then. It's funny how four years of trail running experience turns a difficult course into a mild one.
It's now 5 days after this year's race, and I haven't run much since. I've decided to take my break now and allow my body to recover fully for a month before I commence my heavy training for Western States. I had a 50 miler and a 100k scheduled for December; I'll probably pass on both.
For now, it's time to eat, rest, and be merry.
The last 1/2 of this race was not easy for me. Unbeknownst to me, I was overhydrated and low in sodium. I was very hot during a cold day, and this should have served as a clue that I was not sweating enough due to low sodium. But because the day was so cold, I never gave much consideration to my total sodium intake. In any event, I learned something new, though I suffered unnecessarily for 4 hours.
I ran this race in 2005 and gave a colorful description of that
race then. It's funny how four years of trail running experience turns a difficult course into a mild one.
It's now 5 days after this year's race, and I haven't run much since. I've decided to take my break now and allow my body to recover fully for a month before I commence my heavy training for Western States. I had a 50 miler and a 100k scheduled for December; I'll probably pass on both.
For now, it's time to eat, rest, and be merry.
Two Personal Bests
Two personal bests: 8 hours 48 minutes (37 out of 234 starters) at the Dick Collins Firetrails 50 Mile Race in Castro Valley, California on October 10, 2009 (my friend Eric Vaughan says that my faster finish at the much easier JFK 50 Miler doesn't count as a personal best for a 50 mile trail run) and 3 hours 19 minutes (3,078 out of 44,000 starters) at the NY City Marathon on November 1st.
Also ran the crazy Mountain Madness 50K race in Ringwood, NJ the week after Firetrails 50M and ran the challenging and extremely well organized Mount Masochist 50++M race in Lynchburg, VA 6 days after the NYC Marathon.
Suffered the most at Mount Masochist, as I had two injuries from the NYC marathon and a cold; pushed through nonetheless and finished in 11 hours +.
Frankly, I'm fairly amazed that I can run strong, back-to-back ultras on consecutive weekends at this stage of my training. I hope I can stay healthy so I can dial it up a notch in the coming months.
Also ran the crazy Mountain Madness 50K race in Ringwood, NJ the week after Firetrails 50M and ran the challenging and extremely well organized Mount Masochist 50++M race in Lynchburg, VA 6 days after the NYC Marathon.
Suffered the most at Mount Masochist, as I had two injuries from the NYC marathon and a cold; pushed through nonetheless and finished in 11 hours +.
Frankly, I'm fairly amazed that I can run strong, back-to-back ultras on consecutive weekends at this stage of my training. I hope I can stay healthy so I can dial it up a notch in the coming months.
Test My Blood
Maintaining the levels of sodium, potassium, glucose, and hydration constant throughout a race goes a long way towards a successful run. The body will give you hints, through symptoms, when these are out of balance. Cramping probably means low sodium; lack of saliva points to dehydration; fatigue might mean low glucose, etc. The problem with going by symptoms is that by the time these are manifested your system is already out of balance. Unfortunately, absent a blood test, it’s almost impossible to know exactly what’s going on inside your body. And while it may sound a little extreme, doing my blood work before and after each race is exactly what I am doing now to fine tune my system.
I’ve bought myself an iStat Blood Analyzer. By placing only three or four drops of blood on a disposable cartridge, the iStat will evaluate blood chemistry within a couple of minutes. Disposable cartridges are available for all kinds of test. The cartridges I have purchased analyze the blood for sodium, potassium, glucose, and hematocrit. By comparing these levels immediately before and after each race and knowing exactly what my intakes are during the run, I am discovering what are the right amounts of sodium, potassium, sugar, and water to ingest.
The level of hydration can be determined by body weight. Many ultras will weigh the runners at aid stations to make sure they have not lost or, worse, gained too much weight. But changes in hematocrit can also give you a good sense of hydration. Hematocrit is the percentage of the plasma occupied by red blood cells. If the hematocrit level rises during a race, it means that you have less plasma (i.e. you are not going to produce more blood cells during a race) which points to dehydration. If the hematocrit level decreases, you are probably over hydrated (probably as a result of the body holding back water from lack of sodium).
During the last four races, I have been analyzing my blood immediately before and after every race and recording the exact amounts of sodium, potassium, carbohydrates, and water ingested during the race. With this information, I’ve been fine tuning my intake on subsequent races with the goal of finishing each race with the same levels I had at the start. I’m not quite there, but I’m sure I’ll be able to fine tune it within the next few races.
I’ve bought myself an iStat Blood Analyzer. By placing only three or four drops of blood on a disposable cartridge, the iStat will evaluate blood chemistry within a couple of minutes. Disposable cartridges are available for all kinds of test. The cartridges I have purchased analyze the blood for sodium, potassium, glucose, and hematocrit. By comparing these levels immediately before and after each race and knowing exactly what my intakes are during the run, I am discovering what are the right amounts of sodium, potassium, sugar, and water to ingest.
The level of hydration can be determined by body weight. Many ultras will weigh the runners at aid stations to make sure they have not lost or, worse, gained too much weight. But changes in hematocrit can also give you a good sense of hydration. Hematocrit is the percentage of the plasma occupied by red blood cells. If the hematocrit level rises during a race, it means that you have less plasma (i.e. you are not going to produce more blood cells during a race) which points to dehydration. If the hematocrit level decreases, you are probably over hydrated (probably as a result of the body holding back water from lack of sodium).
During the last four races, I have been analyzing my blood immediately before and after every race and recording the exact amounts of sodium, potassium, carbohydrates, and water ingested during the race. With this information, I’ve been fine tuning my intake on subsequent races with the goal of finishing each race with the same levels I had at the start. I’m not quite there, but I’m sure I’ll be able to fine tune it within the next few races.
September 09
Three hard weeks and one recovery week.
2 hours per day, 4 days per week during the hard training weeks with weekends consisting of:
(1) Back-to-back, 3 1/2 hour runs on first weekend.
(2) 9 hour, 11 minute, 50 mile North Face Endurance Run in Washington DC. Placed 29th out of 212.
(3) 5 hour, 32 minute Vermont 50k Race in Ascutney on Sunday followed by 1 1/2 hours on Monday . Placed 24th out of 153 and 3rd in my age category. Picture
2 hours per day, 4 days per week during the hard training weeks with weekends consisting of:
(1) Back-to-back, 3 1/2 hour runs on first weekend.
(2) 9 hour, 11 minute, 50 mile North Face Endurance Run in Washington DC. Placed 29th out of 212.
(3) 5 hour, 32 minute Vermont 50k Race in Ascutney on Sunday followed by 1 1/2 hours on Monday . Placed 24th out of 153 and 3rd in my age category. Picture
August 09
August training brought the very tough 6 hours and 50 minutes Catoctin 50K race in Frederik, MD (placed 34th out of 139 finishers) and the easier and incredibly beautiful 4 hours and 34 minutes Green Lakes 50K race in Fayetteville, NY (placed 14th out of 106).
I also ran a marathon while crossing the Bering Strait (on a rocking treadmill) and did back-to-back 33.3K's on the same treadmill while crossing the Arctic Ocean. Also managed to take a plunge at the edge of the polar ice cap in 32.7F degree water, but since it was not after a long run, it doesn't count towards the training.
Each of these runs deserves its own post and pictures; I'll try to do that soon.
I also ran a marathon while crossing the Bering Strait (on a rocking treadmill) and did back-to-back 33.3K's on the same treadmill while crossing the Arctic Ocean. Also managed to take a plunge at the edge of the polar ice cap in 32.7F degree water, but since it was not after a long run, it doesn't count towards the training.
Each of these runs deserves its own post and pictures; I'll try to do that soon.
Fix My Feet
After running “barefoot” a couple times a week during a few weeks, I decided that the protection offered to my soles by my “Vibram-five fingers” was not necessary and thus embarked on a totally barefoot run on pavement. Barefoot running is touted as an excellent way to strengthen the feet, particularly the arch, and Vibram makes a sort of foot-glove that protects the soles without reducing the barefoot experience. I had shed my Vibrams on the theory that I would use barefoot running to also toughen my feet and make them more resistant to blisters, but instead I ended up with a blister the size of a quarter on each of my heels -- five days before I was scheduled to pace a runner at Western States 2009. My wife’s facial expression said it all, “are you really that stupid?”
Not one to pass on the opportunity to learn something about running from the experience, I did extensive research on how to fix these blisters in time for the Western States pacing.
Dan Brendan, a friend and much accomplished ultra-marathoner (fifteen 100 mile races in 2008 alone) recommended cutting the outer layer of skin completely and applying NewSkin directly to the raw surface of the blister. “This will create a new artificial layer of skin but be prepared for it to hurt,” he said.
Gillian Robinson, an expert on the subject and co-owner of the running store Zombie Runner recommended cutting a small hole to allow the blister to drain completely and then to simply tape it with Elastikon. She suggested applying “tincture of benzoine” around the non-blistered surface to create a sticky surface to enhance the adhesiveness of the Elastikon tape to the skin. I had used this technique during my 2007 Western States run but never on such large blisters.
A U.S. Army training manual suggested draining the blister and then injecting tincture of benzoine directly into the blister and immediately pressing the outer layer of the skin to the blister so as to glue the surfaces together. Due to the extreme pain that this would cause for 15-20 seconds (think alcohol applied directly to raw surface and multiply the intensity by ten), a friend told me that I would want to bite on something while doing it. A somewhat less painful alternative involved injecting crazy glue into the blister. While I seriously considered the “military alternative”, I rejected it thinking that it would only provide a temporary solution and perhaps create a bigger problem down the road.
I then read an article by John Vonhof, author of Fixing Your Feet, suggesting a safer overnight alternative using zinc oxide. He recommended draining the blister and injecting zinc-oxide into the cavity. Zinc-oxide is the same ingredient used on babies to keep the wetness of a diaper from chaffing their delicate skin. The idea here is to dry out the blister overnight and then tape it in the morning in order to continue running. Eventually the body creates its own new skin over the blister.
Before I tell you about the blister-repair technique that I ultimately selected, let me tell you about yet another mess I created while draining the blister on the day of the barefoot run. The needle I used must have not been sterile, and I ended up introducing some bacteria into one of the blisters. This created an infection resulting in pain around the blister and red streaks emanating from the blister, surrounding the arch, and going towards the leg. I ended up taking care of this a few days later by visiting the Emergency Room while at Squaw Valley (where Western States 100 starts) and getting an aggressive course of antibiotics.
The night before the race, I cut two holes in each of the blisters to drain them completely. I made sure the holes were large enough to prevent themselves from sealing again and fluid from accumulating. I jammed a zinc-oxide paste into the holes, pushing it with a Q-tip and then spreading it inside by gently massaging it from the outside. I was pleasantly surprised to find the blisters fairly dry by the next morning. I applied some more zinc-oxide in the morning but waited to tape them until a couple of hours before I was to start pacing my runner. I then taped one foot with Elastikon and one with duct tape, to see which would hold better. In both cases, I cut a small "Engo Blister Prevention Patch" a little larger than the blister and placed the smooth surface towards the blister and the sticky surface against the tape. The idea here is to not let the tape adhere to the blister itself and for the blister to have a smooth surface against it at all times. I used tincture of benzoine to create a sticky area all around the taping surface (except on the blister itself), and I cut and applied a piece of Elastikon about three times the size of the blister on one foot and a similar piece of duct tape on the other. I also applied some baby powder over the Elastikon to create a smoother surface between the tape and the sock and thus prevent the edges of the tape from rolling from the friction.
The net result is that I was able to pace my runner for the 22 miles from Rucky Chucky to the finish line without much discomfort and was able continue running for another 13 miles thereafter, for a nice 35 mile run.
The Elastikon held better than the duct tape, but neither failed. While it may sound sadistic, I am glad to have had the opportunity to treat blisters this large. It gives me the confidence going into 2010 Western States that I have my blister-repair technique under control.
Not one to pass on the opportunity to learn something about running from the experience, I did extensive research on how to fix these blisters in time for the Western States pacing.
Dan Brendan, a friend and much accomplished ultra-marathoner (fifteen 100 mile races in 2008 alone) recommended cutting the outer layer of skin completely and applying NewSkin directly to the raw surface of the blister. “This will create a new artificial layer of skin but be prepared for it to hurt,” he said.
Gillian Robinson, an expert on the subject and co-owner of the running store Zombie Runner recommended cutting a small hole to allow the blister to drain completely and then to simply tape it with Elastikon. She suggested applying “tincture of benzoine” around the non-blistered surface to create a sticky surface to enhance the adhesiveness of the Elastikon tape to the skin. I had used this technique during my 2007 Western States run but never on such large blisters.
A U.S. Army training manual suggested draining the blister and then injecting tincture of benzoine directly into the blister and immediately pressing the outer layer of the skin to the blister so as to glue the surfaces together. Due to the extreme pain that this would cause for 15-20 seconds (think alcohol applied directly to raw surface and multiply the intensity by ten), a friend told me that I would want to bite on something while doing it. A somewhat less painful alternative involved injecting crazy glue into the blister. While I seriously considered the “military alternative”, I rejected it thinking that it would only provide a temporary solution and perhaps create a bigger problem down the road.
I then read an article by John Vonhof, author of Fixing Your Feet, suggesting a safer overnight alternative using zinc oxide. He recommended draining the blister and injecting zinc-oxide into the cavity. Zinc-oxide is the same ingredient used on babies to keep the wetness of a diaper from chaffing their delicate skin. The idea here is to dry out the blister overnight and then tape it in the morning in order to continue running. Eventually the body creates its own new skin over the blister.
Before I tell you about the blister-repair technique that I ultimately selected, let me tell you about yet another mess I created while draining the blister on the day of the barefoot run. The needle I used must have not been sterile, and I ended up introducing some bacteria into one of the blisters. This created an infection resulting in pain around the blister and red streaks emanating from the blister, surrounding the arch, and going towards the leg. I ended up taking care of this a few days later by visiting the Emergency Room while at Squaw Valley (where Western States 100 starts) and getting an aggressive course of antibiotics.
The night before the race, I cut two holes in each of the blisters to drain them completely. I made sure the holes were large enough to prevent themselves from sealing again and fluid from accumulating. I jammed a zinc-oxide paste into the holes, pushing it with a Q-tip and then spreading it inside by gently massaging it from the outside. I was pleasantly surprised to find the blisters fairly dry by the next morning. I applied some more zinc-oxide in the morning but waited to tape them until a couple of hours before I was to start pacing my runner. I then taped one foot with Elastikon and one with duct tape, to see which would hold better. In both cases, I cut a small "Engo Blister Prevention Patch" a little larger than the blister and placed the smooth surface towards the blister and the sticky surface against the tape. The idea here is to not let the tape adhere to the blister itself and for the blister to have a smooth surface against it at all times. I used tincture of benzoine to create a sticky area all around the taping surface (except on the blister itself), and I cut and applied a piece of Elastikon about three times the size of the blister on one foot and a similar piece of duct tape on the other. I also applied some baby powder over the Elastikon to create a smoother surface between the tape and the sock and thus prevent the edges of the tape from rolling from the friction.
The net result is that I was able to pace my runner for the 22 miles from Rucky Chucky to the finish line without much discomfort and was able continue running for another 13 miles thereafter, for a nice 35 mile run.
The Elastikon held better than the duct tape, but neither failed. While it may sound sadistic, I am glad to have had the opportunity to treat blisters this large. It gives me the confidence going into 2010 Western States that I have my blister-repair technique under control.
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