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“We often need to lose sight of our priorities in order to see them.”
― John Irving

 On Tuesday evening the doggalos and I started a run up City Creek with no particular destination in mind.  I had been half listening to Pandora when Beethovens "Ode to Joy" came on. It is one of my very favorites. When it was over I turned off my music, made a conscious note of how relaxed and serene I felt and immediately turned straight up a ridge that I have never been on before.

It was really steep. There was no trail. It was fantastic.

Sometimes we need a reminder of why do the things we do, and it seems that doing something for no reason at all is often the best reminder.

Sometimes you get the Buffalo, sometimes you get the horns.

If only Friday's Antelope Island Buffalo Run 100 mile had been about 80 miles shorter I would be writing a  different report. As it stands, I am trying to fish the bright side out of a big fat DNF.

While I didn't feel nearly as sharp for this race as I did for my last race in January, I was reasonably sure that I could finish close to my time from last year. I had a solid race plan and was well rested. I was relaxed and ready to roll at noon on Friday when the 100 milers started into the cold but relatively sunny course. 

Within a few miles I was cruising along with a revolving pack consisting of Tomokazu Ihara, Matthew VanHorn, Craig Lloyd and Robert (Bob) Meuller. The banter was friendly and I was content to mostly cruise behind and listen. Matt chose to do the loop first while Craig, Bob and I headed out to the Elephant Head out and back to get our Bieber stickers. I didn't feel great but figured it was early and that there was still plenty of time to settle in.

Bob pushed a steady pace up the switchbacks with Craig and I tucked in behind. I felt like I was working really hard to keep up but tried not to let it show. Matt was right on pace as he joined up with us again just before mile 15. We all broke up a bit as we passed through the S/F aid station around mile 19. Then things started to get ugly.

Over the next 10 miles my energy level steadily dropped as I tried to convince myself otherwise. There was nothing wrong mechanically or fuel-wise. I was taking in steady calories and fluids but felt like death. By the time I hit the Ranch I was pretty much reduced to walking. I (slowly) hauled my sorry carcass back to Lower Frary and called it a day.

In the end I got to run a few miles with some great people, watch my father finish his first sub-24 100, hang out with some old friends and make some new ones. Since then and up to now I am still not feeling too well and have to tell myself that I made the right decision. I've had a string of pretty successful races over the last year and a half and am not going to let one bad day get me down.

Not to mention I'm really excited about my upcoming schedule. It's gonna be huge!

Herding the Buffalo!

I do a fair amount of solo back-country running. It's not unusual for me to have a 30 or more mile day, blissfully traipsing through the woods all on my lonesome. I enjoy the freedom and solitude of running light and relying on my own skills and abilities to get me where I'm going.

That being said, when it comes to race day I usually switch gears and put a huge amount of trust in my crew to get me to the finish line as quickly as possible. I'm lucky enough to have a family that supports my running and racing and I can usually sucker one or more of them into cracking the whip. While this is decidedly a benefit, they may be getting a little too good at it. I used to be able to lollygag and talk my way into a good 15 minutes or more at any given aid station. These days I'm lucky if I can squeak in a measly five minutes!

Are you bleeding? Are you broken? Then get the

hell out of my aid station!

Take my dear, sweet wife for instance. She probably cost me at least a good hour of comfort and respite at the HURT 100 earlier this year by unrelentingly sticking to my race plan, despite my obvious distress. Yes, I told her to kick me out and get me moving with all urgency. But that was before I was 60 miles deep. That was before the reality of another 10 hours of running had eclipsed the pre-race fantasy of me gliding through the jungle like some magical gazelle-Tarahumara hybrid.

What does this have to do with herding buffalo? Well, the Antelope Island Buffalo Run 100 mile starts at high noon this Friday and, to be honest, my training has been comprised mostly of yard work and recovery calories for the last eight weeks. This isn't to say that I won't give it my all come race day but the results will be interesting to say the least.  The one thing I'm not worried about is that my "crew" will be there to crack the whip and herd the buffalo with incessant efficiency.

Bring it on!

Altra Zero Drop Ambassador

I am extremely excited to announce that I have been selected to be a part of the Altra team as an Altra Zero Drop Ambassador!
I have been running in Altra shoes exclusively for almost a year now and the difference has been amazing.  After being plagued by foot injuries (PF, achilles tendonitis, neuroma) off and on for years, I have finally found a shoe that works with my feet.  Healthy feet means I can train harder and run happier. 
I am looking forward to representing a company that is redefining the way we run. If you haven't checked out Altras yet get a look at their fantastic products or check out their blog for a look at some of the incredible Altra athletes.

Beware The Buffalo!

Two weeks out from the Antelope Island Buffalo Run 100 Mile. Going in with a slightly different taper style, courtesy of Super Canadian Gary Robbins. Should be a fantastic event! Check it out at http://www.buffalorun.org/