Running Again

It has been a long time now since I have been able to think of myself as a runner. I’ve been embarrassed about it at times as those around me, knowing that I do enjoy a long conversation about my runs, ask me how things are going. The long pause, stare at the ground and shake the head a bit, then mention that I have not been running much since the marathon in the fall.

That worked for the few weeks immediately following the race.

“I’m taking a break from it for a bit to recover.”

“I have a slight injury that I’m resting. I can’t wait to get back to it.”

Then the weeks turned into the holidays. Months passed as winter settled in and I could think of so many reasons why I did not want to go out and run in the cold and the snow. I lost fitness and started to see that I wouldn’t enjoy the running at this point. I was going to have to suffer more than normal just to get back to a level of fitness that would allow me to get the results that I had grown used to. I was being a perfectionist who didn’t want to practice to get better. I just wanted to be there… so I gave up for awhile.

Winter thawed and races that I usually ran passed me by. I actually went and watched one of them. I clapped and cheered but left feeling despondent and lost.

I finally went for a run around the neighborhood. It sucked just as I imagined it would suck. I huffed and puffed and my legs cramped and flailed. One in the books. After my shower I took stock of the fatigue and elation that was flowing through me and said that I’m going to keep this up. I’m going to put it all back together and rebuild the routine, the necessary habit.

Then I got a new job, with new responsibilities. Long hours and increased stresses. At a time when running could have been the salve to help me cope with these new commitments, I could not develop the routine to get it done. I could not make the time to get out there on the roads and trails. Where I used to be happy to run in the dark of early morning or late night, I found that I no longer had the interest. I was committing myself wholly to my new job and saving what little was left for family and a little sleep here and there. There was no longer room in my life for another obsession.

Then a text appeared on my phone one Friday afternoon. It was from my old running partner (who probably thought I was dead or in jail). Would I be interested in getting out for an early morning run on the local trails. 10k. A very familiar loop.

I did not respond for awhile. I wavered back and forth, trying to determine the reason why I wouldn’t be able to do this.

1. I had been on 4 runs max of any value over the last few months. The fitness I had would be long gone by this point. This would be miles longer than anything I done in awhile
2. I would be slow
3. I would slow him down
4. I would be pathetic out there, wheezing, hacking, stumbling along barely able to lift my feet. The confidence I had in my abilities to suffer in the woods was shattered by all that had occurred over the last few months. What if I was no longer willing to suffer?
5. My wife and kids would need me in the morning. Getting out would commit me for and hour or two. I don’t want to have to get up early. I’m not ready, etc. etc. etc.

I laid it out there for my wife thinking that she would put the breaks on it for me. Surely she would come up with a reason why this would not work. There had to be something she needed me for, some reason to get upset at the thought of me even asking.

I was relying on her to make this decision for me. She didn’t do it. She shot right back with “Sure. I think you should do it.” I waiting a while for a sign. None came so I typed the message back and committed myself to starting it all up again.

The pre-bedtime routine felt familiar and satisfying. Decide on the shoes, shorts, shirt, gear. Get it stacked by the door with keys, ID and a water bottle waiting. I knew how to dress in the dark and crack the door just enough to slip out without waking the little ones.

I started to get a little amped on the short car ride over to the trailhead parking lot. I always end up being early so I sit and listen to the radio. Part of me wondered if he might not show. Would I pack it in or get out there on my own? As I contemplated that question I was afraid that I was not sure of my answer.

I had no doubt that if I ventured out onto the 10k loop on my own, I would find some way of cutting it short, some reason to hike it in instead of working it the way I used to.
But he showed.

A little handshaking and catching up and we were on our way. I had warned him that it had been a long time since I had really done anything strenuous.

We took off. After a brief quarter mile of rooty running along the lake, the trail rises briskfully up to a slight ridge line, climbing a few hundred feet over the next quarter mile. I huffed and puffed behind Bret, keeping pace but constantly contemplating how long I could keep it up.

It was his slow day so he was able to downgrade as I worked quite a bit harder than I should have. Overall it was not destroying me the way I thought it would. My legs felt strong. My lungs, not so much. But I knew how to suffer well and could manage this for awhile.

We leveled out along the top of the ridge and settled into a nice little trot. I knew that the next stretch was a long downhill, losing what we had gained over a mile. I could coast along a bit, watching my feet for lazy stumbling among the roots and rocks.

After open field running the trail cut back into the woods into some tight, nearly overgrown single track. I love this stretch of trail and have missed it over the last few months. There is nothing better than moving quickly through the woods, working at your own perfect speed. Some days fast, other days labored and plodding, sometimes just slow. Moments to catch the light through the trees, eying the hills and drainage valleys for deer and other animals.

But all good, pleasant stretches of trail must come to an end. Down becomes up. Along the bottom stream bed for awhile, then comes the trail rising back up to the first ridge line. My energy drained and I was forced to speed hike the steepest sections. My running partner slowed his pace to a jog and stayed twenty yards ahead of me. I kept telling him that I had hit my limit and he should move on. I would finish it out at my own pace. He wasn’t having it, jogging ahead for bits. I would catch up on the flats or slight ascents.

It was not long before my energy came back, probably with the knowledge that I was nearing another downhill spell and the final mile long trot along the lake into the lot. That mile always feels longer than it is as I wait for the bridge and the trailhead lot to come into view. This time it felt just about right.

We wrapped it up at the car. Chatted for a few more minutes then both headed home to get back to our waking children. I went through the rest of the day with tired legs but a happy mind. My fatigue was earned and I felt like I had got something back that was sorely missed over the last 8 or 9 months.

This has been a transition year for me. Since the marathon back in November, I have barely run at all. I haven’t run a race. These last 10 months, I have had to focus on other things. New work, for one, and not a job I’ve found easy on my mind or life balance. I have not had the capacity to be controlled by the plans, the miles and minutes, the ascents. I’ve had to focus on other things.

Since that first day back on the trails, when I have made the time to get out and run a bit, I have left the tracking alone. Or I should say that I have left the obsessing over tracking alone. I still enjoy reminiscing over my Strava data, the maps, the climbs, the flats. But I have not gotten back into weekly training logs, expectations and goals. I have run when I needed to. When I know that, while it will not always be a great run, I will most definitely feel better than when I started. I’ve run when I needed to feel better.

As I ease back into running I am hoping to do it for positive reasons, and leave the number crunching at home. For awhile.

And then there was no maintenance...

With my sore foot weighing on me, I decided to rest this weekend before my last two-week push into the race. I guess I should use the word "rest" lightly as it felt like I was doing burpies with 30lbs of kid on my back all day. No such thing as laziness with these two kids.

Now the foot feels good. Time to clear the webs make the final two weeks a good one.

There is no training now, there is only maintenance

While I wanted to run today, I was reminded by a random tweet out there from the interwebs that said you have to remember to respect the training plan. Nothing more will be made from anything within these last few weeks. Rest, heal, train mentally. Meditate. Eat well. Sleep when you can.

You can't fix the gaps in your training plan in the last few days leading up to your race. Your earlier failures can't be corrected. I wish I could go back and correct them.

I wish I could, but I can't.

This helps get me through the doldrums.

The End of Training

I spent some time today planning a long run that wouldn’t have too much elevation change in preparation for the NYC Marathon in a few weeks. As I curved the course up and down local streets on the map, I thought to myself, “is the race two weeks away or three?” After reviewing the calendar and cross-checking it against my training plan, I realized that I was off by a week.

My 18 mile race last weekend was really my last all-out long effort. For this weekend, I could trend it down into a more taper-ish 10 to 12 mile long effort.

This revelation felt nice because it meant I did not have to go through all the gear/water planning. I didn’t have to timidly mention to my wife that I would need to disappear for three hours (or more), and then spend the rest of the day massaging my thighs while bouncing kids and eating everything in front of me.

Normally, I devote a significant amount of stress time to long-run planning and post-run guilt-ridden failure management. Usually, it’s plans for back-to-back efforts that turn into half-distances or dropped runs due to kids, errands, life. Now, I’m going into the weekend stressing about wanting to run (see planning above) while knowing that I should rest the pins and get ready for big things.

My foot has been a disaster in the build up to this race, so I should be happy with the recoup time to try to sort this out.

You would think.

But none of this is easy for me. The only time I’m truly at peace with myself as a “runner” is when I’m out there running. The before, the after. That’s the tough stuff. 

Shake-Out

We woke up to what we knew would be a long, long rainy day. We packed up the kids and headed down to the beach so that they could move their miserableness to a different house.

After checking in for the Long Beach Island 18 Mile Run I found the chance to get out for a quick shake-out 4 miles. Loosened up quickly and felt decent enough, but the foot pain was there. I guess there is no hiding from this running issue.

So... I'll load up a few bottles of my maple syrup, salt, and water mix, throw on my Altras and head out down the long, straight road. I will be looking to find an even pace that I can sustain for as long as possible and see how it all plays out.

Waiting to Race

I've been dormant for a while now. No blogging, dipping well below the surface on social media. I chose some sort of sulky silence over the constant sharing.

I'm in the final weeks of waiting to race and it hasn't been easy. For all the reasons shared over the last two years (plus a few more), I have not been able to train the way I initially planned. At some point I'll publish my thoughts on killing a few summer races so that I could focus on my big one - The New York City Marathon.

I've had niggling injury problems in my foot that have forced me to train hard(ish), then recoup for a few days at a time. Then add up all of life's little stresses and it started to load up until the big system broke down. That has been my last few weeks. Immunity issues that have meant focused pain, creaky joints and frequent headaches. 

Overall, I've allowed myself to rest when I need to, train hard when the tank felt full. Last weekend I got out for a hilly, decent paced 18 miler that gave me just the right amount of confidence to know that I can make it through the race and probably enjoy the experience. It won't be as fast as I would have liked, but it probably won't be as painful either, which would have been the case had I not eased up when the moment called for it.

My plan is to put some discipline into this site and blog my way into this race. I've worked a long time to build enough of a base that would allow me to get out for long runs whenever the need called to me. I might as well capture all of it as I go into this big event.

Next up, The Long Beach Island 18 miler in two days. Long, straight, and fast. Should be interesting.

I've been digging this lately.

The next training block

After a pretty stirring fall in a race last weekend (report to come) I decided on a self-imposed week off from running to clear my head and heal my wounds.

Now I'm ready to jump into my last training block before the Wildcat 50k in early August. Three 10.7 mile loops through a pretty jagged and rocky stretch of woods. As I remember it from last year each loop had about 7 miles of runnable terrain with around 3.5 miles of misery in the middle.

So this time I'm taking a slightly different approach to my training plan and data tracking. I'm throwing mileage out the window and focusing on time on my feet and ascent/descent, with planned tempo, steep hiking/repeats, long slow stuff, and some (very) occasional speed work. My plan is to do the next few weeks around 4 to 5 hours, getting up to a few weeks in the 7 to 8 hour range.

I'm going to be standing at work, walking as much as possible, and when I can I will clench my butt while doing mental sit-ups.

I left a part of me on that course last year. I'm looking to get it back if I can.

Even my 5-year old is beating me up the climbs.

The Year of Racing Terribly (Part 2)

Came home from work today to chaos.

One of my little guys is slowly recovering from a recent bug (see last post) and had a bit of a set-back. My other little guy has recently developed a bug bite induced wound on his foot that now needs to be treated and tended to. He has a doctors visit at the time of my race.

I thought about downgrading due to my lack of fitness and general instability around recent training. Now I might need to scrap the whole thing.

Not feeling the running vibes right now.

The Year of Racing Terribly (or nearly not at all)

I write this having been up for 20+ hours tending to my son in a household ravaged by some vicious little stomach bug. I haven't had time to think about it yet, but I believe I may be fighting the thing as well. And I have a race in a few days.

I feel desperately unprepared for this one. I have miles in my legs but not enough. I have hills that have worn me out and made me stronger, but I question if I've gone high enough. Have I gone hard enough? I'm pretty sure that I have not.

Running provides a much needed outlet for me, a time and place where I can turn off the noise of the world and breath in mental silence. Not every run is a good one physically, but they have all been useful (even the really bad ones) psychologically, spiritually.

But it can sometimes lose it's impact when it is clouded by the guilt around my sometimes not being able to reach my own expectations... set around race specific training and usually the races themselves. This alone can push me to depression when running is supposed to be the thing that guards me from it.

I start to wonder and obsess on how others do it. How do they commute, work, commit time and energy to their families and still find time to be the best they can possibly be athletically. It can get lonely not being able to figure this out.

I'm blessed to have the support of one of the best shoe companies in the market. And I feel guilty for having the opportunity to represent them. Being a part of the Altra Ambassadors allows me to be inspired by a fantastic team of enthusiastic explorers, but sometimes their endeavors and successes make me feel less than.

I haven't trained as much as I would like. I won't make excuses about that. I have barely raced, but hope to pick that up as we go into the summer. I have races on the calendar including a late entry into the NYC Marathon.

I want to turn the year around. I think I may need many more long, quiet runs to figure out how.

A Brilliant and Tough Year in Review

Defining rigorous goals in times that should never allow it can be both frustrating and fulfilling. I'm one to set my targets high, higher than should be allowed. So, I have had to be comfortable with failure knowing that 50% completion can sometimes be considered success.

I have a tough job that puts demands on me. I have a long commute. And I have a family, where I intend to be an active participant. After all these things, plus some sleep and relaxation, I have to find time to train.

After 2012, where I met "some" of my goals, I put a big one on the table. I wanted to complete a tough 50k. I didn't wait to see if I could get there; I put my money down early and got it on the calendar. 

Everything building up to this August race was training. Everything after has been recovery (though not much was needed). I knew what was in-store for in 2013 outside running, so I made it okay to have my one "A" race... my one big goal. 

So here is my running year in review. While the the apex is a few months back, the year had a surprisingly large number of high points, ones that ultimately made my first 50k finish look small in comparison.

• January - I was selected to join Altra as a brand ambassador. I loved the shoes but found joining the team of inspiring runners was what really pushed me to train and perform as I headed into spring. I've enjoyed being a part of this family immensely, and have been happy to promote them to anyone who will hear me. I continue to believe that they make the best shoes on the market. Case in point is that I have gotten through 2013 completely injury free. I believe that the shoes have had something to do with this.
• February - My family moved into our new home. It meant a longer commute, but finally put me closer to the "country." Not the Northeast Kingdom I'm used to, but I had a nice big home, some land, and more than enough trail heads within a few miles of my front door.
• March - My wife gave birth to our second boy, little Marcus. He has filled out our family perfectly. Nothing more needs to be said about that.
• April - Ran the NJ Half Marathon with my best friend. He came all the way from Argentina to do this one with me. I'm not great on the road, with the sustained, rhythmic pounding, but after a completely hectic start line situation, we finished strong along the seashore with a respectable time.
• May - Finally found that with our move, I could get some trail training in. It gave me more confidence that the tough 50k coming up just might be doable. My commute was killing me, and finding the time to train was nearly impossible, but I found a way to make it work (sometimes at 4am). I saw a lot of sunrises.
• June - Raced a short 10k trail race on my home trails and came in 7th. It was blazing hot which did me a lot of favors. I paced the first few miles well and passed a bunch on the biggest uphill. Hammered it home and gained just a little more confidence.
• July - What should have been my heaviest training month provided the greatest mental anguish. With a young family, I had to make choices that pushed my training down the priority list. I kept at it when I could but really suffered internally. It forced me to question what I was capable of. Finally, towards the end of the month, I forced myself to hit the treadmill for a 2 1/2 run. This mill sits in my basement and forces me to stare at a wall 2 feet away. I told myself that if I could get through this mentally, I could get through much more while distracted in the woods.
• August - That Night I Dreamt of Rocks. I got through my race. It had its suffering but the feeling after was fantastic. Immediately after, I started thinking about the next big challenge. Mentally, I signed up for the Vermont 50 in 2014. 
• September - While I didn't stop running after the 50k, I did loosen the routine a bit. Eventually, this got me into the cycle of putting running way down the list. As September went on, my mileage dropped. I started thinking about little "micro adventures", little projects that would give me reason enough for getting out. I started thinking about a trail running club. 
• October - Creeping along but I really started to feel that I had lost my momentum. I decided to start a running club for folks that like to get out in Watchung Reservation. With a few long(ish) runs on the calendar, I at least knew that I was keeping the base miles and it was really nice to run with other trail runners. Seeing that I would be living here for years to come, I felt that I might as well work to build a community of like-minded runners. So far, so good.
• November - With a good bit of a fall cold wiping me out for two weeks, I went into a rough, quick 6 mile trail race (NJ HashAThon) completely unprepared. Found that the base lives on even when you are not consistently putting in the miles. It was only six, but I got through it quicker than I thought I would and enjoyed myself out there. One of the best trail races I've seen for crowd attendance and support. It's always nice to get cow bells in the middle of a climb. This will definitely be on my yearly calendar, and I look forward to eventually running it with my boys. The rest of November was a wash with little training. I went into December knowing that I had to change things.
• After really struggling with motivational issues, I decided to go into December on a run streak. Bad weather wouldn't stop me because I had the treadmill in the basement. At least 1 mile a day was my goal, and I kept at it for 22 days. As I got into the holidays, I just got tired. Knowing that I had a race coming on January 4th, I decided to throw in the towel, comfortable knowing that I could get out there day after day if I had to.

Now, after surviving and tough but fulfilling year, I start to think about my goals for 2014. As I stated at the beginning, aim big and be happy with small successes.

• A 50 miler run quickly. This will probably take two 50k's as training races, but I'm looking to finish the Vermont 50 in September.
• I would like to complete a timed race, probably starting with a 6 or 12 hour race. Running with the Devil provides the perfect mix of climbing in a timed event. 
• Hoping to race some trails in a different country. If we get to southern Italy this year, that would be the perfect place. We'll see.
• Last but not least, I need to continue to work to find the appropriate level of balance in my family life and training. Always a struggle, I need to find ways to work around the family better, and involve them in the process whenever possible.

Otherwise, a good 2013. It will only get better in 2014.

This one is for my wife. Not red haired,

but there in spirit (i.e. fiery)

Why We Run

For those who have known me over the years or followed my ramblings on social media, they may have been witness to a fairly dramatic transition over the last two years. A few years back, I was not really a runner. I may have run occasionally when some bit of fear was chasing me, but I did not identify myself as a runner.

Now I talk, write, post constantly about running.  I think about it constantly, not only why I run, but why I now have to allow it to envelop me. I've attempted to write about this new identity before here on this blog, though I think I will be struggling with this one for years.

Enter the new episode from Solomon Running TV. Bernd Heinrich is an inspiration and captures the essence of what I have been chasing for some time. I could watch this man for hours.

"The essential thing is to run, period... and to do it for a long time, and consistently. Then everything takes care of itself."

A Shameful Week

Let's see if this public shaming works as a motivator to get me out the door.

So, on to the last week's training ending October 13th. Another soft week in a month of soft weeks.

10/7/13

Mon - Nothing

10/8/13

Tue - 0:49:50 - 5.84 miles (825') - Powerline Loop

After a completely crap day at work, it felt good to get out in the dark and do some climbing. This loop winds gradually uphill through some local neighborhoods until I get underneath the lines and climb and old school trail. Weird to do this much climbing in the dark, but sometimes its better when you can't see the top. The woods were cool and misty. Felt the Halloween season approaching. A bit spooky.

10/9/13

Wed - Zilch

10/10/13

Thurs - 0:37:51 - 4.5 miles (375') - Summit to BK Heights (from the train)

Decided that I had to force myself to run (my little one has decided that sleep is for weaklings). I just haven't been able to get up at 5am to get on the road, so this time I packed my kit in a bag and brought it to work with me. On my way home, I jumped off the train a few stops early and ran it home. Nice run overall. Need to do this more.

10/11/13

Fri - Big plans but nothing came of it

10/12/13

Sat - Same a Friday

10/13/13

Sun - 1:05:00 - 6 miles (600') - Watchung Reservation (Off-trail and Sierra Trail)

Met up with Dave from the Watchung Reservation Running Club and his dog Sally for an easy run through the reservation. Took some semi off-trail routes which meant some leg shredding from under-used and over-grown trails. Overall, a nice run in the beautiful fall foliage.

Miles: 16.34

Hours: 2:32

Elevation: 1800'

To summarize, a pretty weak week. Consider me ashamed.

What is Next?

Whoo boy!

I thought the post-race break would be nice. Some time off from getting up pre-pre-sunrise to weave through dark streets and trails. No grunting and groaning and arguing with the family over when is the best time to disappear for hours on end.

That was the plan anyway. Instead, it has turned into something much harder to manage than I expected. The wheels stopped turning and now I'm having a difficult time getting them moving again.

35 days post-race and I have lapsed.

Maybe not quite a lapse but a lull. Some silence that is becoming unwelcome.

I am quickly realizing that self-enforcement is not enough. Especially when my 6 month old keeps us up through the night. I'm the type that needs a race to keep me honest. I need it to give me a target and drag me out onto the dark streets to get a little closer to a better performance. I need to be afraid of my race.

I have to sign-up for something.

Fantastic song that I first heard while driving. 

Nearly had to pull the car over.

That Night I Dreamt of Rocks

"Philistines may think that we were madmen indeed to go through such suffering and danger to arrive at this lonely spot. What did you hope to find up there, they may ask. Glory? Nobody cares about young fools who waste their best years in meaningless combats far from the eyes of the world. Fortune? Our clothes were in rags, and the next day we would go back down to a life of slaving for the barest essentials. What we sought was the unbounded and essential joy that boils in the heart and penetrates every fibre of our being when, after long hours skirting the borders of death, we can hug life to us with all our strength." - Lionel Terray

I hit my time to taper down. Felt odd in that I was not really doing heavy mileage to begin with, but I knew that it was better to be under-trained than over. At least this is what I told myself each night as I tried to fall asleep.

I was under-trained. That was understood.

But would I be able to use the accumulation of miles over the last year and a half to get my ass through three rough ten+ mile loops. The race was put on by Rick at NJ Trail Series. I had run a few of their races before and found them to be well managed, well stocked, and tough.

Could I do it? One loop. Absolutely. I even imagined I could get through it quickly if necessary. Two, sure. Three… unknown.

That is the fun with doing a first ultra. One does not know how the day will go until one is deeply embedded in the situation. That is when you begin to understand what is possible.

So in my downtime where I wasn't running as much, I had to do something race related. I prepped. I pulled materials together and planned the nutrition strategy. I went through the hydration. Clothing needs, socks, shoes, contingencies. Over and over I laid it out and convinced myself that it was happening.

Night before the race I put it all out in the guest bedroom. I knew I’d be up at 4am packing it up and getting ready for the car trip to the start line. I could have done it in the dark by that point.

Like always, I got there early. The sun had not crested the hills yet as the first batch of runners left the start/finish line area. This group consisted of the few running the 100k (six loops) and a larger group taking on the 50 miler (five loops). There was an hour for nervous pacing and prepping before we 50k (three loops) runners lined up.

I had heard Rick’s start-line prep talk before. As he has mentioned on other courses, you aren't running by GPS distance, you are running his course. Don’t complain if is it is longer/shorter, rocky or rooty.

Loop one felt okay. It was hard but well within my wheelhouse. After the yelled "go!" we were off along a grassy stretch next to the road before we turned and headed up a rocky ATV road that headed into the Wildcat Ridge Management Area. After a brief climb we were onto some undulating single track that wound through the woods through weird Appalachian-style garbage dumps. Sadly, it reminded me of dump areas you would find in some backwoods areas of Vermont where I grew up. Eventually the trail climbed up and up as it made its way to the open ridge line. Few seemed to take in the overlook on the first pass, we were still bunched so it was hard to stop and smell the flowers. I did stop and pause on loop three on the cliff's edge for thirty seconds before heading off for the finish.

After the first top out along the ridge we wound down a rocky dirt road to the first water station (mile four & nine). From here we headed out into the real nonsense. Up and down and up and down through rocks that ranged from small and unstable to large and unstable. There didn't seem to be a piece of flat footing for four miles. I believe I thought this was interesting on the first lap. It got progressively more miserable on the second and third pass. Eventually the "Nam" business calmed down and we hit more rutty dirt road. We then moved onto a bizarre paved, steep downhill spell through a quite suburban neighborhood until we were eventually back at the start line.

Still feeling good at this point

I hit the full aid station in good shape. Reloaded my bottles, grabbed more gels and quickly took off for the next pass.

Loop two started strong. What I found, though, was that as I came upon each hill, each rocky descent, I had to suffer through the thought that I would have to do this one more time on much more tired legs.

It was a few miles into the second ten that something got out of whack. The sun came up higher in the sky and the temp began to climb. I found myself needing to drink more. I guess I let my salt levels go south because at around mile seventeen the cramping began.

Pain begins as a manageable force. It grows along the way. Eventually it becomes all encompassing but still something that you can push out and move through. I knew that it was either going to get much worse or I was going to find a way to let it dissipate.

The pain became comprehensive. I couldn't ignore it anymore as the fire worked from deep inside my hips down to the tips of my toes. My mind burned with it and I found myself emotional and foggy. You begin to question that damage that is being inflicted with each step, to the point where I found that I could barely take the steps. My legs were seizing up. I was at a very uncomfortable trot, a shuffle. I was deep into the death march.

I ran (walked) miles nineteen to the aid station contemplating calling it a day. I would be at my car. I could rehydrate, get things back in balance, sit and end the pain.

At the aid station I stood in front of the food not sure what to do next. Someone asked me if I was okay. I said no, not at all. Explained the problem. She forced some salt tablets down my throat. Put some fantastic salty chips in my hand. Told me to regroup until I was ready then get my ass back out there.

I sat next to my car for a few minutes going through a quit in my head. It just wasn't going to work. I couldn't comprehend it. I sent a quick text to my wife telling her that I was in a bad way but was going to walk the damn thing if I had to. I took off before I could get a response.

For loop three, I had the pleasure of knowing that everything I was doing would be the last time. It didn't mean that things were easier though. As my body balanced itself out, I found that I could trot some sections, hiking the steep stuff. I eventually came upon a fifty miler (I believe her name was Lara). When I told her that I was in a world of hurt, she laughed it off and told me that I looked great. That little bit of reassurance was what I need to keep the pace up to get me across the line. She and I ran off and on together for the last few miles. I mentally attached myself to her and felt like she was dragging me in.

10,000+ feet of elevation change. I got there in 7:47:11. A few minutes under my target.

I immediately started to feel better the moment I crossed the line on the pavement. I did not have to run anymore that day, and now I knew that I could do just about anything I put my mind to. I just wouldn't be doing much for the new few weeks.

Some of the gear that got me through:

Shirt - Proudly wore my Altra Ambassador shirt. After the race I had a few conversations about the shoes. I believe it came from me wearing the shirt because it definitely wasn't because of my stellar results (or form).
Shoes - Altra Lone Peak 1.5. Best mountain shoe on the market in my opinion. I thought my feet would be wrecked, but they didn't have a mark on them.
Socks - Injinji Run 2.0 Original Weight. Coupled with the roomy Altra's, these toe socks have saved me from blisters, damaged nails, and otherwise bloody feet.
Bottle - Ultimate Direction Fast Draw Plus. Packed it with Gu's and flattened pieces of sandwich.
Waste Pack - Some small Nathan pack I picked up that fit about five more Gu's.
Nutrition - About 15 Gu's, a few pieces of PB&J, some chips, and a few bottles of Fluid Performance drink.
Hydration - The Fluid and either too much or not enough water. Very rarely did I get the balance right.

Can You Train For a 50k on 25 Miles a Week?

For months I've been working on a post about trying to manage the balance between work, family and finding the time (and will) to run long distances.

I'm now looking back on the unfinished post last touched weeks back. This is how it started...

"I am desperately in need of some inspiration in otherwise uninspiring times."

A bit odd to be quoting myself but looking back it now warrants inspection. The buildup to my recent (first) 50k race was not going well. Over many months, starting in December 2012, I had devised a thorough training plan that then seemed to systematically breakdown week after week. My running had gone from a study in joy to just another reason why I sometimes consider myself a failure.

Any job hunt or "best companies" list search turns up plenty of language around work/life balance. It's what most "young" people add into their "must haves" in determining their reason for selecting one company over another. It is expected that life should truly be a balance between the do what you love and and love what you do-job and all the rest of the world outside of that.

But what about work/life/training balance?

In the past six months, my family and I have gone through a significant move. Not far in distance, but further enough from my job to put me a little more out of pocket each day as I manage my new commute. While this move was underway, we welcomed a new little man into our lives. And while all of this was going on, I was looking to build up my mileage so that I could attempt my first pass at an ultra-distance trail race.

See, I was turning 40 this year and had planned to do something significant. I wanted to do something both as a reward and punishment for getting old. As my running mileage picked up last year I thought to myself that a running challenge would be just the thing to show me that turning 40 could be better than 30... or even 20.

I didn't want the watch or the new shiny, fast car.

Instead, I found a race and put it on the calendar. Life be damned, I was going to make it happen. The problem was that good parts of life kept getting in the way of me developing and building to the point where I could have the confidence to complete this thing. Every week I would have my plan written out and over and over runs would be a little shy of the prescribed distance. Long weekend runs wouldn't pan out. My family life and obligations would take precedence (sometimes happily, sometimes not) over all other things.

I wasn't upset that these things were getting in the way (usually). I was terrified that I was slowly getting steps closer to failure. Each missed check-mark in the plan would send me into a bit of a mental tailspin. I watched Unbreakable. I read blogs and articles on running long. I couldn't get away from the fact that I was signed up for the Wildcat Ridge Romp 50k, a fairly challenging course made up of three 10.7 mile loops through some rocky, rooty New Jersey wilderness. August 10th loomed on the calendar.

My mileage hovered around 25 to 35 miles a week. It just didn't feel long enough to pull it off. As I eased into my "taper", I told myself that I was going to go out and give it a shot. I believed I had the toughness and fortitude to get through the pain of it, and I've always been a proficient and quick hiker. At worst, I would walk it in. I would have 12 hours to go roughly 32 miles. Seemed possible if I could focus on running your own race. So I made a plan to write RYOR on my arm and venture off into the woods.

This was not going to be a race but a run... or possibly a walk. I was going to finish.

Wildcat Ridge Romp 50k race report coming soon...

Where Have I Been...

I've been absolutely negligent with my blogging lately so it's time for some output over the long running weekend. I have two race reports, 3 or 4 reviews of some excellent Altra shoes to share, and maybe a few other things about how difficult it can be to train hard when other, more important things get in the way. I have my first 50k in a few weeks and I do not believe that I have trained enough.

Enough of the nonsense. Time to get on the trails.

Grit

In the madness of a family move and a newborn, I haven't really had the chance to write much. I'm working on a post about my most recent results at the Longbranch Half Marathon. Should be up over the next few days.

In the meantime, I read and enjoyed a recent article from Running Times' Steve Magness on True Grit. As
I am only 24 hours out from my race, it was a bit of a cathartic experience to read about pain. I'm feeling a lot of it right now.

Here is a great quote from the article. I might have to give my mom a call.

"Falling apart in a 5K is painful, but it's just pain," says Frey. "But falling apart in a marathon, I believe you lose a year of your life. You complete the marathon feeling utterly defeated, knowing that it got the best of you, and you go home and ask your mom if she still loves you."

Road Marathon vs. Trail Ultra: Which Is Harder?

Road Marathon vs. Trail Ultra: Which Is Harder?

Interesting post from Sarah Lavender Smith at The Runner's Trip. I always enjoy her thoughts on running and this one is a look at the challenges that come with two very different types of racing. Very different in format and form, but both difficult none the less.

Makes me think of the importance of specificity training.

I love running in the woods, but because my next "A" race is on the road, I've been pushing myself up and down the streets. I know that the pounding of pavement is what I need to be able to jump my next hurdle.

Then on to a 50k trail race... and into the woods.

Footfeathers: Briefly on What it Means to Suffer

Fairly recent post from Footfeathers Racing.

This perfectly captures my recent thinking. If it didn't hurt I don't think I would be interested. After the hurt, I feel I can deal with anything.

"Footfeathers: Briefly on What it Means to Suffer: I've always been of the mindset that suffering in training makes racing pleasant.  I don't mean the common knowledge that training ..."

Struggling With Goals

I find setting personal goals challenging. While they help to keep me motivated, putting them on paper also works to eventually highlight my many little failures.

With this year's running schedule, I am attempting brief three month training windows. Ramps that take me to some adequate level of performance in time for some "A" race. The race will happen and then a new window opens. The obstruction I find is that I haven't yet figured out how to bake my life into these goals. How do I plan my sometimes hectic life into this rigid structure that will get me to some peak performance so that I can walk/limp away from a race satisfied with my result?

Do I plan in my weekly running schedule for a known early morning Wednesday meeting that will not only eat into my Wednesday pre-dawn run, but will eat away at me with stress all through the Tuesday before? The short answer is that I currently do not. Then I toss and turn through a few hours of sleep on Tuesday night. When the alarm beeps at 4:30 am the next morning, I push it away and decide that it would better for my health to get another hour of sleep. Then I spend the day in regret.

I have not found a way through this struggle. Not yet. And honestly, I'm not sure how to look for the answers.

It gets tougher with a recent move. While I am happy to have the family in more relaxing and greener environs, the payment for this comes in the form of a longer commute. Add to this the exciting upcoming addition to my family, and these goals push further and further down the priority lists.

One recent ray of light on all this has been the invitation from Altra to join a bunch of talented athletes in their Ambassador program. Being able to listen in and share with the team our daily activities and thoughts provides the inspiration for me to push a little harder... to keep moving my line of limit a little further out into the distance.

Now it's about taking the successes where and when I can. I push harder, and try to work smarter. If I have to miss a day, I stubbornly push on. Eventually, I will get it figured out.