ruminations

I must admit that at some point last night, the possibility of a BRR/MMT combo in 2012 occurred to me.

Somery

Here is a somery (dig the Descendants reference) of the last 4 years where I have concentrated heavily on running ultramarathons:

2008
Marathon: 1
50k: 1
50 mile: 1

2009
Marathon: 1
50k: 1
50 mile: 2
70 mile: 1
100 mile: 1

2010
50 mile: 1
77 mile: 1
100 mile: 1

2011
50k: 1
100 mile: 1
DNF: 1 (100 mile)

My ultramarathon-to-marathon ratio (not counting the DNF) is 6:1. Um, maybe a bit high. In addition, my fastest 50 mile time, and fastest 100 mile time, were both on my 1st attempt. I suppose this does not count for course difficult though (JFK 50 mile, and Oil Creek 100, respectively).

Nevertheless, here are some tidbits I learned along the way:

1. Don't worry about what the "elite" runners profiled in Ultrarunning magazine are doing, in terms of their training or racing schedule. Their personal life, professional commitments, ability to recover, training grounds, financial backing, and experience level may all be very different than mine (or, maybe not -- who cares?). Bottom line, they've got their thing and I've got mine. Don't worry about it and definitely don't try to keep up with it.



2. While it is impressive that Anton Krupicka can run in excess (WELL in excess) of 100 miles per week, I cannot. I can't even come close. Again, see item #1 above about different lifestyles. I am happy for him that he can do it, however I most definitely cannot. Therefore I am not going to follow the conventional wisdom that if I can't run 100 miles in a week, I'm somehow not training hard enough.



3. Early, early morning is certainly an ideal time to run. No work to worry about, no diapers to change, dishes to do, animals to tend to, bills to pay, or any other of life's worries to think about. It is also a major pain in the rear end to drag your tired butt out of bed when all you'd rather do is sleep. I read somewhere that the "athlete in training is a sleepy animal." Therefore, don't skimp on sleep. Don't deprive yourself of sleep. It is a losing battle. If early morning running just ain't working out, don't fight it. Find another time to do it.



4. Pushing through fatigue and discomfort in the late stages of a race or long training run is part of the deal. Continuing beyond safe and reasonable limitations is something else entirely. Know the difference. It is only a running race, you're not fighting for your life. Doing permanent damage just to say you finished a race is not worth it, in my opinion. Others may feel differently, they are entitled to their opinion as well.



5. The best aid station strategy is to get in and out as quickly as possible, while saying as little as possible. The benefits of this are two-fold: 1) you don't burn a lot of time hanging around the aid station, but more importantly 2) late in the race, it is my opinion that the volunteers try to drum up conversation with you to get a rough estimate of how you are doing mentally. If you give them the slightest clue that you are in any way incoherent, or aren't all there, they might start to think about yanking you from the race. I learned this the hard way one time, where I actually had to spend some time trying to convince the aid station captain that I was really ok. Lesson learned: just keep your mouth shut and get out of there.


6. Roger Waters had it right: You are young, and life is long. Therefore, there's no need to cram everything into a single year. Take things slowly...........try different race distances or different sports altogether for a while.

what's next for me?

I am finding it very liberating to be stepping away from running ultramarathons for a while.

In the words of Dwight K. Schrute, "There's nothing on my horizon, except everything. Everything's on my horizon."

Listening to "Little Doll" by the Stooges, so I'm good. When this was recorded, my parents weren't even married yet, but it is one of my favorites ever.

Watch out in 2013.

Wasatch DNF

I had my 1st DNF at the 2011 Wasatch Front 100. Sometimes you can do everything right, and the stars just don't align I suppose.

I did not go early to acclimate to the elevation this year, like I did in 2010. This proved to be an extremely costly mistake. Despite much more consistent, smart, and focused training, along with a taper that left me bouncing off the walls, the elevation during the race put a hurting on me early.

My muscles were clearly operating in an anaerobic state, even while I was walking. In addition, I had a headache so severe that I could feel my pulse inside my head, and it felt like somebody had me in a bear hug. I was tearing through calories climbing all the mountains and could barely get anything down without feeling sick. My pace slowed to a crawl and no matter what I tried, I could not bring things back under control, and the situation was getting progressively worse.

By the time I rolled into the Big Mountain Pass aid station, an hour slower than 2010 (despite significant walking stretches), I knew my race was done. To his credit, crew extroadinaire Phil Turk tried his hardest to make sure I was not just in a low point, and this was really what I wanted to do. I was sure I was making the right decision and I still stand by it.

Could I have finished the race? I don't know because I didn't try........maybe I could have. What I was NOT willing to do was let the race turn into a 60 mile death march, which is what would have happened. I trained hard this summer, and I intended on RUNNING this race strong until the end. Therefore I wasn't about to let it devolve into an unpleasant slog to Homestead.

Furthermore, I was not about to adopt a "finish at all costs" approach because the last time I did that, I ended up in the hospital for 3 days.

I am 100% confident that I made the right call on that particular day. It doesn't make it any easier though, I worked tirelessly toward my goal of finishing this race 2 years in a row, and it was very disappointing to watch it unfold the way it did.

One day, when my daughter is old enough to come with me, my family and I will go out a week early, and I will erase this DNF. For the time being, my mountainous 100 mile days are done, and I intend to focus on other endurance-related pursuits.

wasatch.........here I come!!

The fact that I am bouncing off the walls, and cannot sit still for more than 4 consecutive seconds, leads me to believe that I have nailed the taper. Funny to think that for the previous two weeks, I had little to no energy and at times wondered whether I really had it in me to take this on again.

Turns out, lots of rest was just what the doctor ordered. I think I have only run 3 (maybe 4?) times over my 3 week taper. I was full-on sick for the first week, and was very cautious about jumping back into it too quickly as I started to feel better. If I did lose any fitness over that time, I think I have gained it back ten-fold in rest and positive outlook.

I am ready to rip..........this will be my 4th attempt at 100 miles (currently 3-for-3, and I have every intention of keeping that streak going), and 2nd time at Wasatch. So I am more than aware of what I have in store. At times it won't be pretty. However, as I have said numerous times in the past (but this time plan on keeping to), I plan to take an extended leave of absence from ultrarunning in 2012 (for starters, and maybe longer). Therefore, I intend to leave everything I have in the beautiful, rugged Wasatch mountain range.