Tuesday, June 4, 2013
I feel like I should record some thoughts
The last few weeks at work I've been working an hour overtime, starting early an hour every day. Now that I"m not doing that anymore I think I might try and do some pre-work runs. It's gonna be tough, but I feel like it's something I want to try, I mean lots of other runners are doing two a days so it must be a good thing right? Getting up early is hard, and you gotta be organized to run before work, and I"m kind of lazy. I feel like this will be a failed attempt.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
uncreative blog post title
After a whopping 6 days of not exercising I've decided that I feel like whatever injury I incurred last weekend is fortunately not so serious to prevent me from getting back into a running schedule soon. So, I registered for a race on the same day as my summer goal race that got cancelled. The race is only a few hours drive away, so still kinda local and easy to get to. Of note, it's a race that has had flagging issues (of course I register for a race that has a bad rep for people getting lost), right now I believe there are only 3 other runners registered for the 50 mile race, which is great because then I won't feel any pressure to run fast, it will just be a casual long run.
Loose training plan through to september.
- May 19; epic fail at 50 mile race
- up to May 26: no exercise
- up to jun 1: do some biking, no running
- jun 8: start running: 3 runs, long run of 20 km
- jun 15: running 4 days, long run 30 km
- jun 22: run 5 days, long run 40 km
- jun 29: 50 mile race (but not really 'racing')
- july 6: long run 50 km easy
- july 13: long run 35 km
- july 20: easy week
- july 27: long run 40 km (might pull a dumbass move and run a road marathon)
- aug 3: holiday weekend; 3 long runs back-back-back
- aug 10: long run 50 km
- aug 17: last hard run before sept race; intense 50 km run (or the previous week depending on which race I get into)
- gradual 3 week taper to race week
- Sept 6th or 14th, race 100 mile; Lost Soul or Plain.
Oonce week of june 22 comes I'll be back up to 5 days a week running, and then after that throw in a 6th day of something else. Mix of speedwork, and hill work and I feel I should be ready. Long and gradual enough that I feel I will comfortably peak and then long enough to be properly tapered/rested for race day. Which 100 mile race I end up doing will pretty much only affect the style of my weeknight hill workouts (shorter repeats or longer sustained climbs, I have two locations in mind) and the amount of speedwork done (more or pretty much none).
yep. sounds like a good plan, so I'll prob change it to something else halfway through.
Loose training plan through to september.
- May 19; epic fail at 50 mile race
- up to May 26: no exercise
- up to jun 1: do some biking, no running
- jun 8: start running: 3 runs, long run of 20 km
- jun 15: running 4 days, long run 30 km
- jun 22: run 5 days, long run 40 km
- jun 29: 50 mile race (but not really 'racing')
- july 6: long run 50 km easy
- july 13: long run 35 km
- july 20: easy week
- july 27: long run 40 km (might pull a dumbass move and run a road marathon)
- aug 3: holiday weekend; 3 long runs back-back-back
- aug 10: long run 50 km
- aug 17: last hard run before sept race; intense 50 km run (or the previous week depending on which race I get into)
- gradual 3 week taper to race week
- Sept 6th or 14th, race 100 mile; Lost Soul or Plain.
Oonce week of june 22 comes I'll be back up to 5 days a week running, and then after that throw in a 6th day of something else. Mix of speedwork, and hill work and I feel I should be ready. Long and gradual enough that I feel I will comfortably peak and then long enough to be properly tapered/rested for race day. Which 100 mile race I end up doing will pretty much only affect the style of my weeknight hill workouts (shorter repeats or longer sustained climbs, I have two locations in mind) and the amount of speedwork done (more or pretty much none).
yep. sounds like a good plan, so I'll prob change it to something else halfway through.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Sun Mountain DNF, aka how I reaffirmed the idea of following my plan.
This past weekend I went down to winthrop to run in the Sun Mountain 50 mile trail race. I ended up dropping out. I was running good, well I thought I was. Around 20 km or so I started to feel a little odd in my lower right quad, and then a sharp stabbing pain started radiating upwards from my knee. I tried to test it out, I thought maybe I would be able to shake it. But coming down the first downhill that would have been the first spot to really turn up speed and the pain was excruciating, like my skin was being ripped off my knee. Stopped, swore at the top of my lungs, tried running, hurt something awful some more, stopped and screamed and then started hobbling. There was about two minutes of running where I thought I could get back at it, that thought quickly faded, and then I started walking. As fortune would have it, I was right near the ass end of a loop to start the course, so after walking to the next aid station told them I as DNF'ing, and walked back to the start finish the way I came. I found it rather interesting how 3rd place through about 10th place would stop and ask me what was wrong, rightly assuming that if someone ahead of them was walking something wasn't right. And then as more people passed me, less offered assistence or condolences, By the time the 40th person passed me, nothing was said, as though I was just another person walking. As the first runner back to the start I got to tap the keg. Woot! And I got to have a nice two and a half hour walk filled with suntanning on the way back.
Why? Why did I not make it through the race?
Maybe it was a random thing, landing the wrong way and something went funny. But of course I'll ask of other thoughts anyway. Waiting around after the race chatting with another runner that was running at the front of the pack with me that DNF'd we were talking about 'respecting the distance'. I don't think I respected the distance of the race. In other words I underestimated the difficulty of the race. Perhaps because I felt so good about my achievement at Badger in a longer distance I assumed I could just go out and bang out a 50 mile race like it was nothing.
Last year leading up to Badger it was seven months since my last long race attempt, fat dog in august. after that effort I rested with no running for two weeks, attempted to run, and rested for another two weeks. Then I slowly built up my running volume, peaking a month before the race, then coming to race day well rested, only having done a few really intense long runs. Compare that two going from badger to sun mountain. After badger I was running the next week, and running high volume within two weeks, and then barely tapering for sun mountain. I did not rest enough after the long 100 mile race, and then expected to be able to go back into training for the next one. Also, I never intended sun mountain to be an 'A' effort race, knowing that it was too close to the 100 miler to be ready. But after my goal race for the summer was cancelled I hastily decided to put that effort into this race.
This may not be the only reason, or may not even by part of the reason I hurt myself during the race. But I think it would be wise of me to get back to proper planning. I am not yet strong enough to be putting out A level efforts at races this close together. I got excited and stopped following my plan. I may race before September, but if I do it will be a properly calculated effort to fit into my plan to get to the next 100 mile race.
I am reminded by my body that I am only capable of so much. But I also want to kick ass at certain points. The idea of kicking ass at 100 mile races appeals to me, and even though I would love to be able to race as much as other people I look up to, I think I am limited in what I can attempt, something about slow growth.
this years plan was : 100 mile in March, 100 km in June (cancelled now), and 100 mile in September. I'll readjust my schedule once I feel recovered to run and get back to that. I'm already thinking about next year. I think a schedule like: 50 km in Dec, 100 mile in March, 50 km or 50 mi in June, 100 mile in Sept feels like it should be a good plan.
I won't run again for the rest of May. Maybe starting monday I'll go to the gym and do some sort of exercise though.
Why? Why did I not make it through the race?
Maybe it was a random thing, landing the wrong way and something went funny. But of course I'll ask of other thoughts anyway. Waiting around after the race chatting with another runner that was running at the front of the pack with me that DNF'd we were talking about 'respecting the distance'. I don't think I respected the distance of the race. In other words I underestimated the difficulty of the race. Perhaps because I felt so good about my achievement at Badger in a longer distance I assumed I could just go out and bang out a 50 mile race like it was nothing.
Last year leading up to Badger it was seven months since my last long race attempt, fat dog in august. after that effort I rested with no running for two weeks, attempted to run, and rested for another two weeks. Then I slowly built up my running volume, peaking a month before the race, then coming to race day well rested, only having done a few really intense long runs. Compare that two going from badger to sun mountain. After badger I was running the next week, and running high volume within two weeks, and then barely tapering for sun mountain. I did not rest enough after the long 100 mile race, and then expected to be able to go back into training for the next one. Also, I never intended sun mountain to be an 'A' effort race, knowing that it was too close to the 100 miler to be ready. But after my goal race for the summer was cancelled I hastily decided to put that effort into this race.
This may not be the only reason, or may not even by part of the reason I hurt myself during the race. But I think it would be wise of me to get back to proper planning. I am not yet strong enough to be putting out A level efforts at races this close together. I got excited and stopped following my plan. I may race before September, but if I do it will be a properly calculated effort to fit into my plan to get to the next 100 mile race.
I am reminded by my body that I am only capable of so much. But I also want to kick ass at certain points. The idea of kicking ass at 100 mile races appeals to me, and even though I would love to be able to race as much as other people I look up to, I think I am limited in what I can attempt, something about slow growth.
this years plan was : 100 mile in March, 100 km in June (cancelled now), and 100 mile in September. I'll readjust my schedule once I feel recovered to run and get back to that. I'm already thinking about next year. I think a schedule like: 50 km in Dec, 100 mile in March, 50 km or 50 mi in June, 100 mile in Sept feels like it should be a good plan.
I won't run again for the rest of May. Maybe starting monday I'll go to the gym and do some sort of exercise though.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
race thoughts from the weekend / goals for next race.
last weekend i ran in a local 25 km trail race in vernon. the Dirty Feet Kal Park race. There was also a 50 km race that day, but I signed upfor the shorter distance because I wanted to support local, but didn't want to get sucked into running a race style 50 km run two weeks before a race that I'm viewing as a race that I want to push hard at; that race being the Sun Mountain 50 mile race in winthrop, wa.
The race was on Sunday morning, and Thursday I was playing softball with colleagues; some silly interdepartmental bet was on the line, and of course everyone knows I run so even if it's unsaid I feel pressure to run hard. I'm put in outfield because 'you can run for the balls' little do they know my ability to focus and catch the ball seems destroyed by the holes in my brain matter, but whatever. I can run to where the ball is coming, but the ball bounces out of my glove. I get distracted staring at a pretty lady running by the field, and have to sprint extra hard to try and make a catch just to drop the ball. I can still hit a ball, but not far. So I get on base, and I'm just giving her to run the bases as fast as I can, and I feel something go wrong in my hamstring and everything feels tight. Like not super bad, but not right. Later it felt like I couldn't take a full stride extension while running.
Saturday I drove down early in the morning to run in vernon. The plan was to head out onto the High Rim Trail. It was a beautiful day, last week we had snow, and this week we're proper into spring. Hitting 30 degrees, ran without shirt, got some solid tanning (burning) in. It feels like every weekend the last month I'm running up to the snow line. Not a lot here, but there was some heavy patches, and of course the snow spots were the same spots that had heavy downed trees. At one point I was staring at a football sized patch of waist high snow, with about tonnes of downed trees in it, and of course no trail markings to be seen. Took me several attempts of plodding the wrong way to find my way back to a trail. At the end of the climb, before the High Rim Trail start to traverse its way towards kelowna, there's a radio tower, from this radio tower you can see EVERYWHERE, and your voice echoes repeatedly when you scream, its rad.I got in a nice 8 hours of running/bushwacking in for about 50 clicks. I think this trail will be very doable for a nice point to point run at some point this summer, very much looking forward to it. I tried to test out the hamstring, and it felt like it wouldn't be hurting, but didn't feel like I could get full extension of my leg, like not a full kick. Which I guess wasn't so bad because this race was never going to be a race about going all out.
I camped the night before in Kekuli bay. I don't think I can ever get tired of perfectly hot weather in the okanagan.
Race morning rolls around, the 25 k started at 9 am, but I showed up for 6 am to be able to visit and cheer on the 50 k racers at their 7 am start. Start line time; there's faces I recognize, some fast folks, some others that look fast, runners that used to beat me regularly that I now run faster than. I wanted to be able to seed myself near someone that I felt was slower than me that would be trying to run fast, thought that would be able to match my desire to not push hard that day. In a field of 60 runners I started about 15-20 runners back at the start; I do this in an attempt to force myself to start slow. It worked, and thats good (I think). Someone took video of the 25 k race after the second hill, about a km in, there was at least 10 runners in front of me, but the race started with some nice climbing, so I'm just chugging along and passing people, really trying to take it easy. The top three runners at this point were probably already at least 3-4 minutes ahead of me. This was my intent, to start easy.
The race was beautiful. The trails are very reminding of the okanagan; dusty trails with some rocky bits thrown in. Open stretches of beautiful views where the sun beats down on you, and sections of glorious shady reprieve in the mountainside. Some nice climbing, slow steady chuggable stuff, and some fun tricky but not too tricky descents. I don't like to compare myself to other races, but when examining a race retrospectuvely and the same pattern emerges it makes me wonder. I consistently overtake and pass people on the uphills, and lose ground on the downhills.
The race went well(ish) I didn't feel like it went full effort, but was able to put in a nice push. I didn't like that I felt like I couldn't kick fully, maybe that's what hindered my flat speed and my downhill today. But still, I wonder; is downhill running my weakest aspect of running. If so, why? Is it technique? Because I've been told by some folks that I'm a good downhill runner. Or is it in my head? Do I perhaps hold back while running downhill at certain points of a race in the fear that it will burn out my legs for later parts of a race?
I ended up finishing the 25 km course, which had about 1100 metres elev gain in 2 hrs 16 minutes. I'm good with that.
In two weeks I'm running sun mountain 50 mile race. I've checked out previous race results, and seems like a faster course. I've seen pictures, and the environment is quite reminiscent of home. Asthma shouldn't be an issue. And the trails look like they are nice steady climbs, and runnable downhills. So, I feel like the ups work to me, and I will be focusing on downhill and flat running that day (I'm assuming my uphill running will remain decent without thought) looking to maintain a good cadence, keep good turnover on the flats. And for downhills will be focusing on getting the knee higher, more forward lean, more leg turnover (like the road runner) letting gravity do the work to make the downhills faster/easier.
I want to run 50 miles in under 7:30. I will start relatively conservatively, but nowhere near as conservative as in this 25 km race. According to ultrasignup's really horrible bad math ranking system I'm ranked 14th for the race; so I will seed myself around top ten to start the race. And then its giver time. There's 6 aid stations, with the last 4 having drop bags so all that I'll need on me for race time is socks, shoes, shorts, sunscreen and a water bottle!
The race was on Sunday morning, and Thursday I was playing softball with colleagues; some silly interdepartmental bet was on the line, and of course everyone knows I run so even if it's unsaid I feel pressure to run hard. I'm put in outfield because 'you can run for the balls' little do they know my ability to focus and catch the ball seems destroyed by the holes in my brain matter, but whatever. I can run to where the ball is coming, but the ball bounces out of my glove. I get distracted staring at a pretty lady running by the field, and have to sprint extra hard to try and make a catch just to drop the ball. I can still hit a ball, but not far. So I get on base, and I'm just giving her to run the bases as fast as I can, and I feel something go wrong in my hamstring and everything feels tight. Like not super bad, but not right. Later it felt like I couldn't take a full stride extension while running.
Saturday I drove down early in the morning to run in vernon. The plan was to head out onto the High Rim Trail. It was a beautiful day, last week we had snow, and this week we're proper into spring. Hitting 30 degrees, ran without shirt, got some solid tanning (burning) in. It feels like every weekend the last month I'm running up to the snow line. Not a lot here, but there was some heavy patches, and of course the snow spots were the same spots that had heavy downed trees. At one point I was staring at a football sized patch of waist high snow, with about tonnes of downed trees in it, and of course no trail markings to be seen. Took me several attempts of plodding the wrong way to find my way back to a trail. At the end of the climb, before the High Rim Trail start to traverse its way towards kelowna, there's a radio tower, from this radio tower you can see EVERYWHERE, and your voice echoes repeatedly when you scream, its rad.I got in a nice 8 hours of running/bushwacking in for about 50 clicks. I think this trail will be very doable for a nice point to point run at some point this summer, very much looking forward to it. I tried to test out the hamstring, and it felt like it wouldn't be hurting, but didn't feel like I could get full extension of my leg, like not a full kick. Which I guess wasn't so bad because this race was never going to be a race about going all out.
I camped the night before in Kekuli bay. I don't think I can ever get tired of perfectly hot weather in the okanagan.
Race morning rolls around, the 25 k started at 9 am, but I showed up for 6 am to be able to visit and cheer on the 50 k racers at their 7 am start. Start line time; there's faces I recognize, some fast folks, some others that look fast, runners that used to beat me regularly that I now run faster than. I wanted to be able to seed myself near someone that I felt was slower than me that would be trying to run fast, thought that would be able to match my desire to not push hard that day. In a field of 60 runners I started about 15-20 runners back at the start; I do this in an attempt to force myself to start slow. It worked, and thats good (I think). Someone took video of the 25 k race after the second hill, about a km in, there was at least 10 runners in front of me, but the race started with some nice climbing, so I'm just chugging along and passing people, really trying to take it easy. The top three runners at this point were probably already at least 3-4 minutes ahead of me. This was my intent, to start easy.
The race was beautiful. The trails are very reminding of the okanagan; dusty trails with some rocky bits thrown in. Open stretches of beautiful views where the sun beats down on you, and sections of glorious shady reprieve in the mountainside. Some nice climbing, slow steady chuggable stuff, and some fun tricky but not too tricky descents. I don't like to compare myself to other races, but when examining a race retrospectuvely and the same pattern emerges it makes me wonder. I consistently overtake and pass people on the uphills, and lose ground on the downhills.
The race went well(ish) I didn't feel like it went full effort, but was able to put in a nice push. I didn't like that I felt like I couldn't kick fully, maybe that's what hindered my flat speed and my downhill today. But still, I wonder; is downhill running my weakest aspect of running. If so, why? Is it technique? Because I've been told by some folks that I'm a good downhill runner. Or is it in my head? Do I perhaps hold back while running downhill at certain points of a race in the fear that it will burn out my legs for later parts of a race?
I ended up finishing the 25 km course, which had about 1100 metres elev gain in 2 hrs 16 minutes. I'm good with that.
In two weeks I'm running sun mountain 50 mile race. I've checked out previous race results, and seems like a faster course. I've seen pictures, and the environment is quite reminiscent of home. Asthma shouldn't be an issue. And the trails look like they are nice steady climbs, and runnable downhills. So, I feel like the ups work to me, and I will be focusing on downhill and flat running that day (I'm assuming my uphill running will remain decent without thought) looking to maintain a good cadence, keep good turnover on the flats. And for downhills will be focusing on getting the knee higher, more forward lean, more leg turnover (like the road runner) letting gravity do the work to make the downhills faster/easier.
I want to run 50 miles in under 7:30. I will start relatively conservatively, but nowhere near as conservative as in this 25 km race. According to ultrasignup's really horrible bad math ranking system I'm ranked 14th for the race; so I will seed myself around top ten to start the race. And then its giver time. There's 6 aid stations, with the last 4 having drop bags so all that I'll need on me for race time is socks, shoes, shorts, sunscreen and a water bottle!
letting go of statistics?
My computer is slowly dieing. I think the fan is on the fritz and I probably have way too many programs running which causes it to randomly shut off and I don't really care enough to fix it. After one such shut off I couldn't restart it properly and I seem to have lost every file I had on my computer. So things like spreadsheets and pictures.... gone.
But do I really need to track my statistics of what I do? Does knowing whether I did four thousand or 300 metres elev gain in a week make a difference? Does knowing if I ran 95 or 125 km in a week make a difference?
Before every race I make out a loose training plan. This plan includes volume and distance approximations based on what I usually do for weekday runs. And the major time/distance variations come on the weekend. Also, I will not certain weeks to be more focused on hills, or speed, or resting etc. And within a week I will usually vary my effort levels and type of runs. I can just do this on a regular old calendar. I'm losing the urge to track stats; maybe I used to do it to be able to compare to the past, but I know I'm better than the past so whatever?
Also, I lost my entire itunes library which is a little inconvenient. Running related though; every race this year I've gone without music, and the last four months I have listened to music once every month or so while running. I feel like I used to need music to get through certain workouts / moments in races; now I feel like I'm just enjoying the running even more that it's not wanted.
But do I really need to track my statistics of what I do? Does knowing whether I did four thousand or 300 metres elev gain in a week make a difference? Does knowing if I ran 95 or 125 km in a week make a difference?
Before every race I make out a loose training plan. This plan includes volume and distance approximations based on what I usually do for weekday runs. And the major time/distance variations come on the weekend. Also, I will not certain weeks to be more focused on hills, or speed, or resting etc. And within a week I will usually vary my effort levels and type of runs. I can just do this on a regular old calendar. I'm losing the urge to track stats; maybe I used to do it to be able to compare to the past, but I know I'm better than the past so whatever?
Also, I lost my entire itunes library which is a little inconvenient. Running related though; every race this year I've gone without music, and the last four months I have listened to music once every month or so while running. I feel like I used to need music to get through certain workouts / moments in races; now I feel like I'm just enjoying the running even more that it's not wanted.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Stats: First third of the year.
| Year Totals | ||||||
| Run km | Run hrs | ElevGain(km) | Bike km | Bike hrs | Weights | X Train |
| 1523.17 | 171.50 | 50.08 | 94.97 | 3.67 | 0 | 9 |
| Total Runs | Total Bikes |
| 82 | 7 |
| Avg (km) | Avg (km) |
| 18.58 | 13.57 |
| Month | Run Km | Run hrs | elevgain (km) | bike km | bike hrs | weights | XTrn hrs | Avg pace | Avg Elv Gn | Total Hours |
| Jan | 403.57 | 45.25 | 12.38 | 10.00 | 0.33 | 0 | 3.00 | 6.73 | 610.68 | 48.58 |
| Feb | 365.90 | 39.47 | 11.78 | 8.72 | 0.17 | 0 | 1.50 | 6.47 | Avg Pace | 41.13 |
| Mar | 452.60 | 52.57 | 15.08 | 5.25 | 0.17 | 0 | 1.25 | 6.97 | 6.76 | 53.98 |
| Apr | 301.10 | 34.22 | 10.83 | 71.00 | 3.00 | 0 | 4.00 | 6.82 | 41.22 | |
| May | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 | |
| Jun | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 | |
| Jul | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 | |
| Aug | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 | |
| Sep | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 | |
| Oct | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 | |
| Nov | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 | |
| Dec | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0.00 | 0 | 0.00 | #DIV/0! | 0.00 |
| Total | Runs | Bikes | |
| 82 | 7 | ||
| >50 km | 4 | 0 | |
| >42.2 km | 2 | 0 | |
| >40 | 0 | 0 | |
| >35 | 3 | ||
| >30 | 7 | 2 | |
| >25 | 2 | ||
| >20 | 5 | 0 | |
| >15 | 12 | ||
| >10 | 25 | 1 | |
| <10 td=""> | 22 | 4 | |
| Avg Dist | 18.58 | 13.57 | |
| > 3 hours | 15 | 0 | |
| >2 hours | 10 | 0 | |
| >1 hour | 37 | 2 | |
| <1 hour="" td=""> | 20 | 5 |
Last year I totalled 100 km of elevation gain; right now I"m at 50 km elev gain so far, and seeking out more hills.
The amount of non running or biking exercise I've done so far this year is already triple that of last year, which really only says something about how little other things I did last year.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Smelly Dirty Laundry
This weekend I was down in Vancouver, so after I was done what I went for I ended up camping in Golden Ears Provincial Park. Saturday I was there at night, so I didn't go too far up the trail I found that was rather bouldery, but it was a nice run. And Sunday I got a short run in with a friend in the same park. Originally I thought I wasn't able to get any running in this weekend, but ended up exploring, so that was better than nothing. The park was nice, but didn't really feel like somewhere I would go out of my way to run again.
Maybe awful to feel this way, but I'm not sure if I really think the scenery of the Lower Mainland terrain is as pretty as everyone seems to gush about. I guess I just like the scenery of where I grew up better.
I camped in m Van again; forgot to take out my dirty running clothes when I got home Sunday, so when I left for work monday my car stank so bad. So dirty.
Maybe awful to feel this way, but I'm not sure if I really think the scenery of the Lower Mainland terrain is as pretty as everyone seems to gush about. I guess I just like the scenery of where I grew up better.
I camped in m Van again; forgot to take out my dirty running clothes when I got home Sunday, so when I left for work monday my car stank so bad. So dirty.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Okanagan Mountain Park / A Rut? / Pushing
Saturday I went 'running' in Okanagan Mountain Park. I had it in my mind that I was going to do this run, I've been feeling a little cabin feverish and wanted to get somewhere big. I've never run to the summit of the mountain earlier than mid May before. So deep down I knew that it was going to be a rough trip. I planned my route knowing that if I ran Wildhorse Canyon around the park first then by the time I hit the snow line which I thought would be there I would feel too committed to turn around. Up Divide Lake trail is only about 12 km to the summit, but but around Wildhorse Canyon and up one of the other trails is about 30 km. So I went that way. The trails in Wildhorse Canyone are never easy to begin with. Up to Commando Bay is always decent, but I felt like being a pansy and trying to avoid the puddles, which of course there was a lot as it's run-off time. Why I bothered when I knew I would be heading into wet snow, I don't know.
After you head up from the Commando Bay trail intersection further into Wildhorse Canyon the trail turns real tough. The few people that go to Commando Bay, seem to rarely go past there so the trail isn't well travelled. There is a lot of growth on the trails, like prickly bushes, large bushes that are growing onto the trail, etc. I wasn't wearing leggings, so my legs were taking a beating. By the time I made it to the turn off to Frederick creek trail my lower legs looked like they had been in a fight with an angry cat, which at that point wasn't too bad.
I really like Frederick Creek trail, it's a lot more beautiful coming down than it is going up. But still, there is always time to turn back and appreciate the view of Penticton from the mountain in Kelowna. Something about being able to see the little town from afar while I'm running, it's so far (well 67 km by road, which is actually not that far relative to distances I can run) but it seems so closer. Perhaps this is why I like running in this mountain so much, I feel connected to so many different times of my life in there.
It started hailing half way up Frederick creek trail, I don't know what it is exactly but the last two Saturdays I've run to snow height, and run while fresh snow was falling, and I've really enjoyed it. Running in the snow as opposed to running while it's snowing is a much different story. Almost immediately after hitting the snowline it went from nothing to there being deep snow, knee deep snow. At the start it was still solid enough that I wouldn't fall through the snow. But very soon after I was falling through every few steps. This part of the mountain is where a forest fire was a decade ago, and there is always lots of dead trees fallen over the trails. So when you fall through you risk hitting trees hidden below. But thankfully the snow was soft enough that you could read the flow of it and see where there was likely a tree underneath. Another tricky aspect of the route is that there is not much trail markers on the trail, there is orange triangular reflectors about a square inch in sized nailed to trees every hundred metres or so. The problem is that I think these are rather old, and half of the trees that had reflectors nailed to them have fallen over, so when the marker is under the snow .... I've never ascended the mountain from the trail before, always coming down this way usually. So thankfully I knew where I was going, and when I couldn't see markers I ended up just bushwacking towards the radio tower. Popping up and down as I broke through the snow my shins got very cold, and the welts that I had got from the previous attacks of bushes earlier in the day were now turned into a bleeding mess as the skin had gotten cold and easier to break. The last five kilometres to the summit were rough. Once I hit the summit I descended via Divide Lake Trail which is essentially a service road, so even though there was snow for a ways down, I could finally stretch out the legs as I knew there was nothing dangerous under the snow.
It took me seven hours to move forty three kilometres. And I felt so spent after, but it felt so rewarding. I'm not sure how much benefit a day like this has for me in terms of training. My ankles were swollen, cuts all over my shins, ankles felt awful, quadriceps were just screaming in pain from the up and downs through the deep snow.
Tangent.....
I really enjoy reading the blog/social media of the write James Altucher. This was on his social media page.
"HOW TO GET RICH, LESSON NUMBER TWO - THE PUSH
Rob told me JB was dead. JB was my best friend growing up. We sat next to each other on the bus. After school we'd play ping pong or pinball or monopoly or ride bikes.
Every single day we did this for eight years. Then we drifted apart.
Rob said, The last time I spoke to him he sounded like a ghost.
It was like there was nothing there, Rob said.
I hadn't seen JB in 20 years.
He dropped out of college, Rob said, and never really had a job. His parents gave him money to live. He didn't want to do anything.
He changed his phone number every few weeks, Rob said. So he was hard to keep in touch with.
I didn't understand. Why did he change his number every few weeks?
He'd meet a girl, and then a few weeks later he'd get tired of her but not want to deal with it. He'd change his number so the girl couldn't reach him, Rob said. And he moved a lot.
He had no Facebook page, no internet presence, it was hard to track him down, Rob said.
And it's true. I had never found him on the Internet.
JB hurt his leg a few years ago, Rob said, and had no insurance because he never had a job. So got addicted to painkillers.
He was into the drug scene, Rob said.
So no job, drifting phone numbers, a hazy identity, drug, nerve damage, pain killers.
One day he never woke up, Rob said.
He was 39.
I don't feel sad about this. People die. I haven't seen him since we were 18 and on graduation day.
But I wonder about one thing Rob said.
"He was like a ghost the last time I spoke with him."
We know when the body and mind are giving up. We know when spirit is exhausted. When the emotions don't care.
He never had anything he wanted to do, Rob said.
Is that all it is? Do we just need something to do? Something that we want to scratch just a tiny bit so we continue one more day?
We don't have to save the world. Or invent warm ice. Or time travel. Or even have a passion or a purpose.
When I was dead broke and crying I wanted to die just so my kids could have my life insurance policy. What got me to get up and go again?
And then later, when it happened again. And then again.
Why didn't JB do that?
I call it "the push".
You're riding the bicycle up the hill all the time in life. Everything in life wants you to decay. To be subjugated. To be violated. To be tired. To become a ghost.
To roll back down the hill just when you thought you were close to the top.
It's fucking tiring to live.
What can give us THE PUSH?
I don't know.
For me, today, it's just this post. Some days, it's to see my 11 year old smile. Sometimes, I just want to take a walk. Or help Claudia. Or do something fun and creative.
What's your PUSH today?
A little bit, every day, compounds.
A little push today turns into a big life tomorrow.
My one requirement: I have to give something. I have to enjoy it.
Else, it's too draining. It's a shit stain. I slip back on the hill.
A deep breath. You can do it, I tell myself. One more turn of the pedals. THE PUSH! Get over the hill!
I want to live."
He always writes about things that make me go hmmm, and I seem to stumble upon his writing at times where my mind is particularly malleable. Right now for me, running is my 'push'. I'm aware that I may be neglecting other possible areas of growth in my life, but right now running is what pushes me. However, I feel like I want to better direct my push than just rambling in the mountains, I want to maintain a directed push (I may just be extending the usage of that word too far).
Last week I barely made it out the door for a Sunday run, yes I did five hours of running the day before, but I missed an opportunity by not running Sunday. Today, Sunday, I didn't run again. Yes, I was out seven hours Saturday but again I missed an opportunity to run today. Even if I had just run an hour, it would have been better than nothing. But I didn't. Which leads me to cheesy tangent number two.
Success. How to get it? The guy in this video tells a story of a young man asking a successful man how to be as successful as him. The mentor tells the young man to meet him at the beach, they go there and the young man is told to walk into the water. They get to waist level and the young man doesn't understand, what's the point. Eventually they go so deep that the water is so high that the young man is having trouble breathing because the water is so deep. What does this have to do with success? You have to want to be successful so badly that it's more important than breathing (that's a real truncated version) unless you are willing to sacrifice things and treat getting what you want as more important than breathing, you're not going to be successful.
Sitting at home being a lazy bum on Sunday won't get me to success.
At the beginning of the year I laid out a plan that included a March race, a June race, and a yet to be determined September race. One of the reasons I was successful in my race in March was because I didn't sacrifice my training plan for that large goal race by altering the plan to meet the needs of other races that I had entered in between. I had already signed up for a race in May, and now I signed up for a second race in May. And this is already meaning I must alter the training plan to get to the June race. Next year I will stick to the plan of three to four race in a year, I will plan them all by December and will stick to that plan. I had been starting to get sucked into the idea of running a local marathon in July. No, I will not do that. Sure it would be fun, and I am curious about where I stand in terms of road marathon times. But that is not the goal, the goals are long distance ultra marathons and if I have only have eleven weeks between a 100 km race and a 100 mile race jamming a non goal race right in the middle is not going to be helpful.
I had slept in my van at the trail head of Okanagan Mountain Park, it was beautiful of course waking up to the sounds of birds chirping and a view of Okanagan Lake. I had planned on finding somewhere to shower after the run, and then camping somewhere near kelowna and picking another nice local run, I should have done that and even if I was sore taken just an easy run. But I took a lazy out and bailed.
Since my last race I've started going to the gym once a week, and been trying to make sure to do another non-running exercise at least once a week. Also, I've decided that my 'rest' weeks will now be taken up to a minimum of nine hours of running, and at least ten and a half hours of total exercise. Arbitrary numbers, but they are larger arbitrary numbers than previous. I may be better than before, but I want to be better still.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Margaret Falls / Cows
on Saturday I ran in the Reinecker creek trail system near Herald Provincial park, which is on Shuswap Lake. One of the wonderful features of Reinecker creek is that it has an amazing falls in part of it. Margaret Falls.
Apparently the falls aren't always flowing this heavy. My dad told me that when he was there a few years ago it was barely a trickle, winter run off really can be beautiful.
The trail to the falls is only about 500 metres. There was a much longer trails system going around the whole river area.
I got in 35 kilometres of running. Running up the east side was really nice, wonderful single track. It was snowing that day, so it was quite pretty running with the snow falling lightly but not having snow on the ground. Well, once I went past the south crossing of the creek I hit real snow. And plenty of downed trees, but that was okay as I suppose I should still be running easy.
I didn't feel tired physically, but I guess I was mentally slow, my agility felt off. At one point I was jumping over a series of down trees that were covered in snow, planning on pushing off the first to jump over the following two. Well, the first was covered in snow, I slipped and fell forward smashing my right shin straight down onto the next tree and then slamming my right shoulder into a stump on the side of the trail. Damn that hurt. Had to walk for five minutes to shake that off, got a pretty sweet green and blue bump now.
The trail system eventually heads up to White Lake, but I couldn't go that far as there was still ankle deep snow on the forestry road, and I didn't feel like dealing that. But the trails could definitely get a 50 km run in, will probably go back there to camp and run in the summer.
I came down on the west side, it wasn't quite as nice as it's more of a atv trails than a single track, but that didn't last long as once I hit the south crossing again I could cut back to the east side. Then I started smashing my shoulder into trees. I was running down some single track, weaving through a tree lined trail, while dodging downed trees. Usually if there is a tree downed and it's at about shoulder or chest height I can just duck my head and maintain my speed. Well, I guess time I was ducking late and ran full speed into an oak tree with my right shoulder. Holy hot damn that hurts. And then just a few kilometres later I was coming to another downed tree, going faster of course, and didn't duck late, but not enough and a sharp part of the tree where a branch had broken off went into the back of my left shoulder blade. Holy crap that one hurt worse. Both have left some nice marks. Oi. Good thing it was beautiful trails to distract me with.
Tonight while running the same trails I've run all winter long, I ran into cows. I didn't really notice how many there were until I had already tried to walk past some, and walked into more and before I knew it there was a herd of cows surrounded me and then they were chasing me and it was not cool.
Apparently the falls aren't always flowing this heavy. My dad told me that when he was there a few years ago it was barely a trickle, winter run off really can be beautiful.
The trail to the falls is only about 500 metres. There was a much longer trails system going around the whole river area.
I got in 35 kilometres of running. Running up the east side was really nice, wonderful single track. It was snowing that day, so it was quite pretty running with the snow falling lightly but not having snow on the ground. Well, once I went past the south crossing of the creek I hit real snow. And plenty of downed trees, but that was okay as I suppose I should still be running easy.
I didn't feel tired physically, but I guess I was mentally slow, my agility felt off. At one point I was jumping over a series of down trees that were covered in snow, planning on pushing off the first to jump over the following two. Well, the first was covered in snow, I slipped and fell forward smashing my right shin straight down onto the next tree and then slamming my right shoulder into a stump on the side of the trail. Damn that hurt. Had to walk for five minutes to shake that off, got a pretty sweet green and blue bump now.
The trail system eventually heads up to White Lake, but I couldn't go that far as there was still ankle deep snow on the forestry road, and I didn't feel like dealing that. But the trails could definitely get a 50 km run in, will probably go back there to camp and run in the summer.
I came down on the west side, it wasn't quite as nice as it's more of a atv trails than a single track, but that didn't last long as once I hit the south crossing again I could cut back to the east side. Then I started smashing my shoulder into trees. I was running down some single track, weaving through a tree lined trail, while dodging downed trees. Usually if there is a tree downed and it's at about shoulder or chest height I can just duck my head and maintain my speed. Well, I guess time I was ducking late and ran full speed into an oak tree with my right shoulder. Holy hot damn that hurts. And then just a few kilometres later I was coming to another downed tree, going faster of course, and didn't duck late, but not enough and a sharp part of the tree where a branch had broken off went into the back of my left shoulder blade. Holy crap that one hurt worse. Both have left some nice marks. Oi. Good thing it was beautiful trails to distract me with.
Tonight while running the same trails I've run all winter long, I ran into cows. I didn't really notice how many there were until I had already tried to walk past some, and walked into more and before I knew it there was a herd of cows surrounded me and then they were chasing me and it was not cool.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Consistency
On the way back from Kennewick the idea of consistency in training came up with my mom. Up until October when I got a new job and moved I wasn't really able to be truly be consistent in my training. During school sessions class schedules would change every semester, and even within a semester from week to week depending on what was going on with school it affected how much free time you had. And working in restaurants, on the rare times when I managed a consistent schedule of days worked, the variety of business volume would often screw up my planned runs, often being too tired to go out and do what I had intended.
I work the same schedule every single week now, well other than the occasional overtime hour or two in a week when the boss wants. The work day is super easy on the body, and I can do the same thing every week on weekdays, and have the energy to challenge myself on the weekends. Consistently I can do this. It took until about two to three months of this to feel returns of this consistent training.It really makes it easier to plan out training.
Today's relaxing thought. Anticipation; that feeling when you are packing things up the night before a weekend excursion, getting tidied up so you can leave quickly after waking up, and your mind wanders to the beautiful places you shall go. It's good.
I work the same schedule every single week now, well other than the occasional overtime hour or two in a week when the boss wants. The work day is super easy on the body, and I can do the same thing every week on weekdays, and have the energy to challenge myself on the weekends. Consistently I can do this. It took until about two to three months of this to feel returns of this consistent training.It really makes it easier to plan out training.
Today's relaxing thought. Anticipation; that feeling when you are packing things up the night before a weekend excursion, getting tidied up so you can leave quickly after waking up, and your mind wanders to the beautiful places you shall go. It's good.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Afraid of my bike
I really, really, really like running downhill on the trails. Well, I really like running up the hills too, but running downhill is best and as much as I enjoy running up the hill, while I'm getting to the top my mind is thinking ahead to how much fun it will be to be tear down that hill as fast as I can, and when I get to the bottom sometimes I'm a little sad that it's over, kind of like riding a roller-coaster, you just want to go to the top and start over, and over, and over again.
When I'm on my road bike, and I'm going down a hill that is a certain steepness, I'm scared out of my mind. I actually feel anxious and worried about my safety that I will somehow lose control and the bike will like magically flip over or something. As silly as that sounds, and is rather unlikely, I'm very much afraid to go all out on the bike downhill. I totally ride the brakes. What to do, what to do.
Pretty much all the local trails are snow free now. Looking forward to playing on Mount Paul and Peter more often. Went hiking there today, had to hike and not wear the running clothes to feel like I shouldn't run.
When I'm on my road bike, and I'm going down a hill that is a certain steepness, I'm scared out of my mind. I actually feel anxious and worried about my safety that I will somehow lose control and the bike will like magically flip over or something. As silly as that sounds, and is rather unlikely, I'm very much afraid to go all out on the bike downhill. I totally ride the brakes. What to do, what to do.
Pretty much all the local trails are snow free now. Looking forward to playing on Mount Paul and Peter more often. Went hiking there today, had to hike and not wear the running clothes to feel like I shouldn't run.
Monday, April 1, 2013
100 Mile Ramblings; Badger Mountain Challenge.
March 29th, 2013. Badger Mountain Challenge 100 mile trail race.
About 19,000 feet elevation gain (and similar loss) on a loops course with several out and backs. Four climbs of about 1,000 feet, six climbs of about 700 feet, and rolling hills. Trails were a mix of double track, single track, some nice groomed walking trail and some roads; with the double track usually being riddle with large rocks. Starting in Kennewick, Wa and going to Prosser and back.
I finished in 19 hours and 57 minutes.
First; some pictures....
The goal; a ridiculously awesome looking belt buckle.
At the start; I wasn't really feeling that awake yet.
The start.
The first climb at the start.
Mile 22.5 aid station.
Mile 75 aid station with my mom.
At the finish.
Bam. That's the quick version.
Now onto some ramblings....
As kids growing up, my brother and I were huge hockey fans and living in british columbia naturally we were Vancouver Canucks fans. We started really following the NHL just before Trevor Linden was drafted by the Canucks. He was my hero, playing hockey in the streets we would pretend to be different players from the Cancucks teams we watched; Linden, Bure, McLean, etc. And so when the Canucks made their run to the stanley cup finals in 1994 it was dream street. They were the underdogs, and they did so well. Captain Canuck Trevor Linden seemingly willed the team from behind several times in the playoffs and we were in game 7. I will never know what it means to play in the Stanley Cup, let along the NHL, or even some sort of professional hockey at all. But at the time, watching on tv, we felt like we were there. Losing by one goal in game seven of the stanley cup final; I could only imagine how one would feel.
After the last whistle of the last game, while the confetti was flying and the New York crowd was cheering and the Rangers were celebrating there was the briefest camera shot of Trevor Linden on one knee beside the boards, face in his hands. I can only imagine the disappointment of coming so close to winning the cup, feeling like you could do it, and not getting the job done. While I may not know exactly how that would feel; I think the feelings I felt last year after DNF'ing at several races (100 km, 148 km, 120 mile) were similar. These feelings of knowing I could do it, and failing were what drove me to train with more intensity and commitment than I had the previous year. And the feelings I felt after finishing this 100 miles; definitely not like that at all.
While training I would often imagine how I thought the race would go. Of course your thoughts will naturally be coloured with the events of the past, so I would imagine scenarios where I would envision needing to push through adversity to be able to finish. I would imagine horrendous struggles such that I would require immense mental effort to push through. I even imagined a rather specific scenario with four ideas bouncing around; a monkey (representative of the DNF monkey I carried on my back), an angel telling me to stop because I shouldn't hurt myself, a demon driving me to push too hard, and a rotating set of people that I know that would be feeding me good advice and encouragement. The monkey would sit on my back in the middle of my shoulders, it looked like that stuffed monkey that you often see with a symbal in each hand, clapping them on the sides of my head and telling me I can't do it. And I would imagine that the four ideas would have an argument of sorts, and one of them would have to win in order for me to drop or to finish.
During the race, none of that happened. I just ran happy. I started out having nice conversation with other runners, I kept it easy to start, I was singing to myself at times, got to see all the runners during the out and back so I got to share high fives and cheer for everyone. I got to share great time chatting with old friends and new times. At no point during the race did I experience anything resembling pain, yeah muscles were a bit sore, but no strains, twists, mis-steps, rolls, bruises, falls, no blisters, no toenails to be lost (well my one big toe feels slightly off), I could walk the next day. Up until mile 85 I felt like I was running the best race I could have for me. I didn't think about anything, I just went. It was a perfect day in terms of weather conditions. The scenery was fantastic, we were on the only mountains in a relatively flat area, we had a light drizzle of rain in the afternoon which was perfect, the sunset was amazing, the just past full moon was a wonderful guide in the night, (the earth didn't spin fast enough that day for me to catch the sunrise while running). Food consumption was way better than previous races. I ate way less than previous races, stuck to 90% liquid nutrition, my stomach felt great and I had good energy through the whole race, my stomach never felt off or hungry, and I had enough energy to push at any part of the day.
Let's do some number crunching...
There was 18 aid stations; my crew saw me at 9 of them, so including the finish I have 10 segments to compare. (times are recorded by crew so a little approximate)
Start - Aid Station 3: 15.5 miles
Climbed and descended first three mountains.
2 hrs 30 minutes. Pace: 9:40 min/mile.
Felt pretty good, mostly walked the uphills, just chatting with other runners, going very easy comfort level of running. Not much push. The start of the race I saw two runners start out real hard, it was easy to let them go, but the few behind them that were going a little less hard it was tough to talk myself out of chasing them. So I started chatting with a friend who was in the race about the main goal, finishing. That made it a little easier to be patient. Over the next three mountains I had some good chats with other runners, kept it easy. A bunch of us all got lost in the flat section between climbs one and two. The course was marked with pink ribbon and flagging, and we saw an orchard with pink flagging... whoops wrong way. (remember this for later), but we found our way back, didn't run the exact course for a wee bit, but the 20 of us that did that probably added maybe a half mile distance extra. Coming into aid station 3 I was probably somewhere between 15th and 20th position. (I wasn't concerned about placement, only using this for context).
Aid station 3 - aid station 4: 7 miles.
Pavement and gravel road leading to a different set of mountains.
50 minutes. Pace: 7:08 min/mile.
The whole deal where there was absolutely no trees anywhere made it hard to find places to go to the bathroom. I was running down the road along some orchards and went to go in front of a rock wall, right before the property owners all started driving down their dirt driveway on their ATV's. Had to wait another 5 miles to find anything resembling a tree. Rough. I got passed by a couple runners on this section, that's ok. I was still running easy and not yet ready to step up the effort level yet.
Aid station 4 - Aid station 7: 14 miles
Start of this section was most difficult climb of course, and the longest section between aid stations (9 miles). Rolling hills, with beautiful views running along a pretty sweet ridgetop.
2 hours 30 minutes. Pace: 10:43 min/mile.
The very start of this section was a 1/2 mile climb that was super steep. I wasn't yet pushing, but I just power hiked this section the way I would normally do, and started passing people, I think I passed 5 runners in just this hill. Then the next couple miles I started to pick up the pace and moving my way up the field. Once I got to running along the ridgetop above the steeo climb coming out of aid station 3, I was in the mood to run. It was perfect way, defintely felt absolutely zen. This is where I started trying to pass people, I would see a runner in the distance, and would slowly catch them and move on. By aid station 7 I was in about 6th to 7th place.
Aid station 7 - aid station 9: 10 miles
Mostly forestry road, jeep trail, and a little roads. Some single track with a couple tough climbs.
2 hours. Pace: 12:00 min/ mile
Aid statioon 9 was the turnaround of the out and back section, so I got to see all the runners ahead of me, that was nice to be able to cheer them all on. I came in to the turnaround in 5th. Still feeling good, the pace was a little slower, but for the conditions I think it was still feeling good.
Aid station 9 - aid station 11: 10 mile (same as last section but reverse)
2 hours. Pace: 12:00 min/mile
I felt like I was maintaining a good pace, just being steady. I ended up passing another runner here.
Aid statioon 11 - aid station 14: 20 miles
3 hrs 25 minutes. Pace: 10:15 min/mile.
It got dark during this section. I was carrying with me two headlamps from when I saw my crew at aid station 11; I tried to put off using them as long as possible because I really like running at dusk. At aid station 13 the lead woman caught up to me just as I was heading out, and then she passed me for good a mile before aid station 14, she was running great. I feel like physically I could have kept up, but it's like as soon as the sun sets I lose mental acuity (bam bet you didn't think you'd have to run to the dictionary, props if you didn't have to) during the night and lose speed. Picked up my 3rd headlamp at aid station 14, one one the head to see flagging, two on the chest to see slightly ahead and at my feet. And yet I still feel slightly off running at night.
Aid station 14 - aid station 16: 9 miles
1 hrs 45 minutes. Pace: 11:40 min/mile
I felt like I was still running decent here, in the orchard section where I was running on gravel road I was striding well. But again, I really struggle at night and when I feel lost even in the slightest I slow down.
Aid station 16 - aid station 17: 5 miles
1 hour: 12:00 min/mile.
Definitely started to slow down. My mom said I was talking funny at this aid station. This was a loop section, running through very faint trail at the start and then up a steep peak, and then trail back. Walked the start, because you know, it's night and that's how I roll I guess.
Aid station 17 - 18: 6 miles.
1 hour 50 minutes. Pace: 18:50 minutes/mile
Yeah, read the pace of the section and that about tells the story. And it was also one of the easiest sections of the whole course. The first few miles were on road. Except there wasn't that much marking, and someone at the last aid station had said something about turning right into a culvert after a billboard. Well I saw four billboards before any arrows, and I was running on roads which felt wrong, and then I talked to the motorcycle volunteers who said to turn right, but then the arrows pointed left. It all led to so much slight befuddled my mind is already confused from being night time and feeling lost so slowing down. And I hadn't yet gotten really lost. Running under the road in the culvert was neat, singing and echoing was cool. Then I headed up the second mountain we did, but in reverse, which was fine. Except for how I didn't come up the exact proper way to go up, and could not see any flagging. I ended up starting to shout out hoping the aid station could hear me (they couldn't as they were at least 1/2 mile away). I saw a headlamp following me a mile away, so I actually stopped and waited for the headlamp to lead me in. We headed to the next aid station together.
Aid station 18 - finish: 3 miles
1 hr 7 minutes. Pace: 22:20 min/mile.
After coming into the last aid station I felt rough, not physically, but mentally. At mile 95 I swore for the first time in the race, for the first time in the day I felt something other than awesome. The trails coming out of the last aid station were uphill, but they were switchbacks, and super well groomed trails, and should have been runnable. But instead I just couldn't do it and walked up the hill watching the headlamp ahead of me getting further away. I wasn't negative self talking, but I started rationalizing that it would be okay no matter what time I finished. I got to the top of the last climb, and knew all I had left was a sweet descent on well groomed trail and I started running again, I don't know how fast I was actually going but I felt like I was flying. I was back into elation zone; the trails weren't really marked, but it seemed clear so I just kept following the natural turns, until I saw some arrows, and followed them straight into an orchard. Yeah that seemed wrong. Worst part was the last thing I did was to hammer hard a steep downhill. So after a loud scream at the moon I hiked back up to the last place I felt like I knew I was going, and start jogging. I felt like I was good again, but after a couple minutes I saw some oil tanks which I didn't recognize from near the start, and felt like I should be near the start/finish but didn't recognize anything, so I felt lost, and probably took another turn. In my head I was willing to bushwack to the finish if I could see it. I felt so lost. And with only a mile to go. In all my time getting lost another headlamp was approaching, so we joined up, both felt lost but eventually found the finish line. And collapsed. 19:57!! I ended up being 4th overall, 3rd man.
My goal coming into the race was truly to finish. But I would always want to be able to put in my best effort. I feel pretty awesome with the time I finished with. Really not concerned with my placement relative to others, my time relative to me is the only thing that concerns me. I worked hard in training, and being able to have a easy comfortable 100 mile race was the result. I still have some things to work on. The way I completely slowed down the last 10 miles, losing mental focus and getting lost cost me time. But still, I'm still very pleased with my time. My food intake felt nearly flawless; although maybe I should eat just like 10% more calories/carbs in the last 30 miles as that might keep my brain moving. And I need to remember that just because I feel slightly lost I should still keep my legs turning, rather than walking. At no point after I walked was I unable to run again, and at no point was I in anything close to excessive pain.
It was definitely the right decision to start easy before pushing. But I feel I could start to push a few mile earlier, and I can maintain my push harder further in the race. I managed my nutrition way better than ever before, felt very good. But I think I can do better by eating just a bit more in the latter stages of the race.
I'm not sure if I'll go back, but right now I'm thinking I will. Fixing the getting lost and losing mental focus in the last two sections could save me 45 minutes, and better training could shave more time off. I feel like I could get under 19 hours next time, maybe even sub 18. If/when I go back, I will go back with a specific purpose, knowing the course knowing exactly how I will kick its ass. Meeting and exceeding my expectations, and feeling like I laid down a good race; I felt like a real athlete for the first time in my life.
I'm not sure what to do for the second half of the year for racing. I had been thinking about registering for Plain 100, but I'm not sure anymore. Having 18 aid stations, and being able to have crew see me 9 times was pretty darn useful. Plain has only one drop bag location, no aid stations. I don't feel like I'm quite to a point where I want to take that on yet.
A secondary goal of the race was to try and convince my mom that what I do for kicks isn't as dangerous as she thinks. So I took her along as my crew. I don't think I succeeded 100% but did a bit to convince her, maybe just because she could compare me to others. She got to see other runners as well as me. I never changed my shoes because I never had foot pain or blisters. I never had stomach issues, I never had excessive pain. My mother told me that other runners would be screaming at their crew, screaming in pain as they were taping/doing other things to their body. Seeing other runners blisters etc. Watching other runners sitting in chairs in pain. And she just saw me chillin having a super awesome day.
Yeah, that about sums up my day. It was super awesome.
What now?
About 19,000 feet elevation gain (and similar loss) on a loops course with several out and backs. Four climbs of about 1,000 feet, six climbs of about 700 feet, and rolling hills. Trails were a mix of double track, single track, some nice groomed walking trail and some roads; with the double track usually being riddle with large rocks. Starting in Kennewick, Wa and going to Prosser and back.
I finished in 19 hours and 57 minutes.
First; some pictures....
The goal; a ridiculously awesome looking belt buckle.
At the start; I wasn't really feeling that awake yet.
The start.
The first climb at the start.
Mile 22.5 aid station.
Mile 75 aid station with my mom.
Bam. That's the quick version.
Now onto some ramblings....
As kids growing up, my brother and I were huge hockey fans and living in british columbia naturally we were Vancouver Canucks fans. We started really following the NHL just before Trevor Linden was drafted by the Canucks. He was my hero, playing hockey in the streets we would pretend to be different players from the Cancucks teams we watched; Linden, Bure, McLean, etc. And so when the Canucks made their run to the stanley cup finals in 1994 it was dream street. They were the underdogs, and they did so well. Captain Canuck Trevor Linden seemingly willed the team from behind several times in the playoffs and we were in game 7. I will never know what it means to play in the Stanley Cup, let along the NHL, or even some sort of professional hockey at all. But at the time, watching on tv, we felt like we were there. Losing by one goal in game seven of the stanley cup final; I could only imagine how one would feel.
After the last whistle of the last game, while the confetti was flying and the New York crowd was cheering and the Rangers were celebrating there was the briefest camera shot of Trevor Linden on one knee beside the boards, face in his hands. I can only imagine the disappointment of coming so close to winning the cup, feeling like you could do it, and not getting the job done. While I may not know exactly how that would feel; I think the feelings I felt last year after DNF'ing at several races (100 km, 148 km, 120 mile) were similar. These feelings of knowing I could do it, and failing were what drove me to train with more intensity and commitment than I had the previous year. And the feelings I felt after finishing this 100 miles; definitely not like that at all.
While training I would often imagine how I thought the race would go. Of course your thoughts will naturally be coloured with the events of the past, so I would imagine scenarios where I would envision needing to push through adversity to be able to finish. I would imagine horrendous struggles such that I would require immense mental effort to push through. I even imagined a rather specific scenario with four ideas bouncing around; a monkey (representative of the DNF monkey I carried on my back), an angel telling me to stop because I shouldn't hurt myself, a demon driving me to push too hard, and a rotating set of people that I know that would be feeding me good advice and encouragement. The monkey would sit on my back in the middle of my shoulders, it looked like that stuffed monkey that you often see with a symbal in each hand, clapping them on the sides of my head and telling me I can't do it. And I would imagine that the four ideas would have an argument of sorts, and one of them would have to win in order for me to drop or to finish.
During the race, none of that happened. I just ran happy. I started out having nice conversation with other runners, I kept it easy to start, I was singing to myself at times, got to see all the runners during the out and back so I got to share high fives and cheer for everyone. I got to share great time chatting with old friends and new times. At no point during the race did I experience anything resembling pain, yeah muscles were a bit sore, but no strains, twists, mis-steps, rolls, bruises, falls, no blisters, no toenails to be lost (well my one big toe feels slightly off), I could walk the next day. Up until mile 85 I felt like I was running the best race I could have for me. I didn't think about anything, I just went. It was a perfect day in terms of weather conditions. The scenery was fantastic, we were on the only mountains in a relatively flat area, we had a light drizzle of rain in the afternoon which was perfect, the sunset was amazing, the just past full moon was a wonderful guide in the night, (the earth didn't spin fast enough that day for me to catch the sunrise while running). Food consumption was way better than previous races. I ate way less than previous races, stuck to 90% liquid nutrition, my stomach felt great and I had good energy through the whole race, my stomach never felt off or hungry, and I had enough energy to push at any part of the day.
Let's do some number crunching...
There was 18 aid stations; my crew saw me at 9 of them, so including the finish I have 10 segments to compare. (times are recorded by crew so a little approximate)
Start - Aid Station 3: 15.5 miles
Climbed and descended first three mountains.
2 hrs 30 minutes. Pace: 9:40 min/mile.
Felt pretty good, mostly walked the uphills, just chatting with other runners, going very easy comfort level of running. Not much push. The start of the race I saw two runners start out real hard, it was easy to let them go, but the few behind them that were going a little less hard it was tough to talk myself out of chasing them. So I started chatting with a friend who was in the race about the main goal, finishing. That made it a little easier to be patient. Over the next three mountains I had some good chats with other runners, kept it easy. A bunch of us all got lost in the flat section between climbs one and two. The course was marked with pink ribbon and flagging, and we saw an orchard with pink flagging... whoops wrong way. (remember this for later), but we found our way back, didn't run the exact course for a wee bit, but the 20 of us that did that probably added maybe a half mile distance extra. Coming into aid station 3 I was probably somewhere between 15th and 20th position. (I wasn't concerned about placement, only using this for context).
Aid station 3 - aid station 4: 7 miles.
Pavement and gravel road leading to a different set of mountains.
50 minutes. Pace: 7:08 min/mile.
The whole deal where there was absolutely no trees anywhere made it hard to find places to go to the bathroom. I was running down the road along some orchards and went to go in front of a rock wall, right before the property owners all started driving down their dirt driveway on their ATV's. Had to wait another 5 miles to find anything resembling a tree. Rough. I got passed by a couple runners on this section, that's ok. I was still running easy and not yet ready to step up the effort level yet.
Aid station 4 - Aid station 7: 14 miles
Start of this section was most difficult climb of course, and the longest section between aid stations (9 miles). Rolling hills, with beautiful views running along a pretty sweet ridgetop.
2 hours 30 minutes. Pace: 10:43 min/mile.
The very start of this section was a 1/2 mile climb that was super steep. I wasn't yet pushing, but I just power hiked this section the way I would normally do, and started passing people, I think I passed 5 runners in just this hill. Then the next couple miles I started to pick up the pace and moving my way up the field. Once I got to running along the ridgetop above the steeo climb coming out of aid station 3, I was in the mood to run. It was perfect way, defintely felt absolutely zen. This is where I started trying to pass people, I would see a runner in the distance, and would slowly catch them and move on. By aid station 7 I was in about 6th to 7th place.
Aid station 7 - aid station 9: 10 miles
Mostly forestry road, jeep trail, and a little roads. Some single track with a couple tough climbs.
2 hours. Pace: 12:00 min/ mile
Aid statioon 9 was the turnaround of the out and back section, so I got to see all the runners ahead of me, that was nice to be able to cheer them all on. I came in to the turnaround in 5th. Still feeling good, the pace was a little slower, but for the conditions I think it was still feeling good.
Aid station 9 - aid station 11: 10 mile (same as last section but reverse)
2 hours. Pace: 12:00 min/mile
I felt like I was maintaining a good pace, just being steady. I ended up passing another runner here.
Aid statioon 11 - aid station 14: 20 miles
3 hrs 25 minutes. Pace: 10:15 min/mile.
It got dark during this section. I was carrying with me two headlamps from when I saw my crew at aid station 11; I tried to put off using them as long as possible because I really like running at dusk. At aid station 13 the lead woman caught up to me just as I was heading out, and then she passed me for good a mile before aid station 14, she was running great. I feel like physically I could have kept up, but it's like as soon as the sun sets I lose mental acuity (bam bet you didn't think you'd have to run to the dictionary, props if you didn't have to) during the night and lose speed. Picked up my 3rd headlamp at aid station 14, one one the head to see flagging, two on the chest to see slightly ahead and at my feet. And yet I still feel slightly off running at night.
Aid station 14 - aid station 16: 9 miles
1 hrs 45 minutes. Pace: 11:40 min/mile
I felt like I was still running decent here, in the orchard section where I was running on gravel road I was striding well. But again, I really struggle at night and when I feel lost even in the slightest I slow down.
Aid station 16 - aid station 17: 5 miles
1 hour: 12:00 min/mile.
Definitely started to slow down. My mom said I was talking funny at this aid station. This was a loop section, running through very faint trail at the start and then up a steep peak, and then trail back. Walked the start, because you know, it's night and that's how I roll I guess.
Aid station 17 - 18: 6 miles.
1 hour 50 minutes. Pace: 18:50 minutes/mile
Yeah, read the pace of the section and that about tells the story. And it was also one of the easiest sections of the whole course. The first few miles were on road. Except there wasn't that much marking, and someone at the last aid station had said something about turning right into a culvert after a billboard. Well I saw four billboards before any arrows, and I was running on roads which felt wrong, and then I talked to the motorcycle volunteers who said to turn right, but then the arrows pointed left. It all led to so much slight befuddled my mind is already confused from being night time and feeling lost so slowing down. And I hadn't yet gotten really lost. Running under the road in the culvert was neat, singing and echoing was cool. Then I headed up the second mountain we did, but in reverse, which was fine. Except for how I didn't come up the exact proper way to go up, and could not see any flagging. I ended up starting to shout out hoping the aid station could hear me (they couldn't as they were at least 1/2 mile away). I saw a headlamp following me a mile away, so I actually stopped and waited for the headlamp to lead me in. We headed to the next aid station together.
Aid station 18 - finish: 3 miles
1 hr 7 minutes. Pace: 22:20 min/mile.
After coming into the last aid station I felt rough, not physically, but mentally. At mile 95 I swore for the first time in the race, for the first time in the day I felt something other than awesome. The trails coming out of the last aid station were uphill, but they were switchbacks, and super well groomed trails, and should have been runnable. But instead I just couldn't do it and walked up the hill watching the headlamp ahead of me getting further away. I wasn't negative self talking, but I started rationalizing that it would be okay no matter what time I finished. I got to the top of the last climb, and knew all I had left was a sweet descent on well groomed trail and I started running again, I don't know how fast I was actually going but I felt like I was flying. I was back into elation zone; the trails weren't really marked, but it seemed clear so I just kept following the natural turns, until I saw some arrows, and followed them straight into an orchard. Yeah that seemed wrong. Worst part was the last thing I did was to hammer hard a steep downhill. So after a loud scream at the moon I hiked back up to the last place I felt like I knew I was going, and start jogging. I felt like I was good again, but after a couple minutes I saw some oil tanks which I didn't recognize from near the start, and felt like I should be near the start/finish but didn't recognize anything, so I felt lost, and probably took another turn. In my head I was willing to bushwack to the finish if I could see it. I felt so lost. And with only a mile to go. In all my time getting lost another headlamp was approaching, so we joined up, both felt lost but eventually found the finish line. And collapsed. 19:57!! I ended up being 4th overall, 3rd man.
My goal coming into the race was truly to finish. But I would always want to be able to put in my best effort. I feel pretty awesome with the time I finished with. Really not concerned with my placement relative to others, my time relative to me is the only thing that concerns me. I worked hard in training, and being able to have a easy comfortable 100 mile race was the result. I still have some things to work on. The way I completely slowed down the last 10 miles, losing mental focus and getting lost cost me time. But still, I'm still very pleased with my time. My food intake felt nearly flawless; although maybe I should eat just like 10% more calories/carbs in the last 30 miles as that might keep my brain moving. And I need to remember that just because I feel slightly lost I should still keep my legs turning, rather than walking. At no point after I walked was I unable to run again, and at no point was I in anything close to excessive pain.
It was definitely the right decision to start easy before pushing. But I feel I could start to push a few mile earlier, and I can maintain my push harder further in the race. I managed my nutrition way better than ever before, felt very good. But I think I can do better by eating just a bit more in the latter stages of the race.
I'm not sure if I'll go back, but right now I'm thinking I will. Fixing the getting lost and losing mental focus in the last two sections could save me 45 minutes, and better training could shave more time off. I feel like I could get under 19 hours next time, maybe even sub 18. If/when I go back, I will go back with a specific purpose, knowing the course knowing exactly how I will kick its ass. Meeting and exceeding my expectations, and feeling like I laid down a good race; I felt like a real athlete for the first time in my life.
I'm not sure what to do for the second half of the year for racing. I had been thinking about registering for Plain 100, but I'm not sure anymore. Having 18 aid stations, and being able to have crew see me 9 times was pretty darn useful. Plain has only one drop bag location, no aid stations. I don't feel like I'm quite to a point where I want to take that on yet.
A secondary goal of the race was to try and convince my mom that what I do for kicks isn't as dangerous as she thinks. So I took her along as my crew. I don't think I succeeded 100% but did a bit to convince her, maybe just because she could compare me to others. She got to see other runners as well as me. I never changed my shoes because I never had foot pain or blisters. I never had stomach issues, I never had excessive pain. My mother told me that other runners would be screaming at their crew, screaming in pain as they were taping/doing other things to their body. Seeing other runners blisters etc. Watching other runners sitting in chairs in pain. And she just saw me chillin having a super awesome day.
Yeah, that about sums up my day. It was super awesome.
What now?
Sunday, March 24, 2013
25 weeks of training stats.
Although I didn't register for my upcoming race until January, It was on my mind back in September.After time off and resting from my poorly done fat dog attempt in August. I moved at the beginning of october and that was when I laid out a training plan that lead all the way to this race coming up. I didn't follow it exactly, but I felt like I did a decent job of building back up my mileage and feel quite ready. So because I like charts and graphs and stuff. Here is some numbers.
| Badger Mountain 25 Week Program | |||||
| Week | Km | Hours | Elev Gain | Avg Pace | Total Hrs |
| 1 | 19.92 | 2.02 | 723 | 6.08 | 2.02 |
| 2 | 70.07 | 7.35 | 2191 | 6.29 | 7.35 |
| 3 | 26.68 | 2.92 | 1035 | 6.57 | 2.92 |
| 4 | 55.23 | 5.25 | 1485 | 5.70 | 5.25 |
| 5 | 65.67 | 7.00 | 2020 | 6.40 | 8.50 |
| 6 | 77.20 | 7.83 | 2068 | 6.09 | 7.83 |
| 7 | 90.06 | 10.38 | 2357 | 6.92 | 11.88 |
| 8 | 53.80 | 5.98 | 1907 | 6.67 | 5.98 |
| 9 | 68.20 | 8.43 | 2600 | 7.42 | 8.43 |
| 10 | 81.80 | 9.42 | 2913 | 6.91 | 12.42 |
| 11 | 93.99 | 11.68 | 2608 | 7.46 | 11.68 |
| 12 | 21.60 | 2.58 | 1087 | 7.17 | 2.58 |
| 13 | 90.66 | 13.15 | 2960 | 8.70 | 13.15 |
| 14 | 113.80 | 12.85 | 3578 | 6.78 | 12.85 |
| 15 | 69.20 | 8.42 | 2198 | 7.30 | 8.42 |
| 16 | 92.86 | 9.88 | 2311 | 6.38 | 13.05 |
| 17 | 100.30 | 11.13 | 3338 | 6.66 | 11.30 |
| 18 | 85.41 | 9.85 | 3678 | 6.92 | 9.85 |
| 19 | 40.80 | 4.20 | 825 | 6.18 | 4.20 |
| 20 | 101.80 | 9.85 | 2685 | 5.81 | 11.35 |
| 21 | 124.60 | 14.32 | 3989 | 6.90 | 14.32 |
| 22 | 117.80 | 13.33 | 4133 | 6.79 | 13.50 |
| 23 | 100.90 | 10.55 | 3740 | 6.27 | 10.55 |
| 24 | 50.00 | 5.23 | 1949 | 6.28 | 5.23 |
| 25 | 49.20 | 5.26 | 1850 | 6.41 | 5.26 |
| Total | 1861.55 | 208.86 | 60228.00 | - | 219.87 |
| Average | 74.46 | 8.35 | 2409.12 | 6.68 | 8.79 |
Week 1 was the start if a new job, and I just moved but didn't have my own place for a couple weeks, so wasn't too much time to run to start. Week 3 my car broke down and I lost the weekend to dealing with that. Week 4 was really the time I started in properly to specified planned training. Week 12 was christmas holidays, didn't fit much running into visiting. Week 18 was a 50 km trail race. Week 19 I was sick. Week 24 I didn't run on the weekend as I was visiting. Any time not spent running in training was basketball or ice hockey.
Almost looks like a proper build/rest pattern.
10,000 ft is 3,050 metres. Feels good to be getting above that regularly. Nice arbitrary weekly goal. The park I spent a lot of time running in has some decent climbs.
Yep; that's a graph.
I actually find this one interesting. If nothing else it really is just an indicator of what the weather was like during the last 6 months. The higher my average weekly pace, the more snow I had to run in. That outlier of over 8 minutes per km was a week where I spent 4 hours on a friday night slogging through knee high snow, didn't get far but it was a gooder.
Holy that was an exciting post.
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