Tuesday, May 27, 2014

One tough Nut

Weather forecast for tonight: dark. -George Carlin

Reckless confidence helps. Photo by Jared Spurlock 

As I'm sure is the case with a lot of competitive athletes, I have a bad habit of trying to predict how things are going to turn out by micro-calculating every detail leading up to race day. I spend way too much time weighing nonsensical variables, assigning numerical values to arbitrary factors, figuring those same asinine values with entirely made up systems of calculation, and basically working myself into a tizzy over details that will likely have very little bearing on what actually occurs. For example:

"If I extrapolate my long run cadence trajectory by a factor of exponentially decreasing stride efficiency, multiplied by a projected finish time based on (my Ultrasignup ranking (minus DNF's)) x (the Kilian "what if" potential actuator), add two minutes for drop-bag rummaging, minus (minutes per missing toenail) x (chafing factor of temperature/humidity), = The Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs?"

Pretty deep stuff. But, most of the time I somehow end up being wrong anyways, and going into this years MMT100 I made a mindful effort to let go of all expectations concerning the outcome of the race. I spent a good portion of the last six months recovering from, and attempting to train through, a persistent back injury. I really didn't know how things were going to hold together for 103 tough miles so I focused on getting in quality miles as well as I could, eating well (lots of chocolate), and getting some decent sleep in the days leading up to the race. I would have liked to have gotten in a few more miles earlier in the year but sometimes you just gotta go with what you got.

I was relaxed and rested on the morning of the race. My dad was running as well, looking for his sixth MMT finish. 4am and we were off. I ran with my dad for about a half mile before losing him in the herd. He would end up finishing his day at Camp Roosevelt, 63 miles into the race with stomach issues. Like the old saying goes: Some days you get the get the tiger by the tail and some days the chicken crosses the road to rough you up for your lunch money. Or something...

The area had been drenched by rain showers meaning we would be looking forward to a wet course but cool weather. I was trying to take it out a little slower than usual, in an attempt to have a more consistent race than last year. My feet were soaking wet within the first two miles, a foreshadowing of what the course would be like for the next 100 miles. What were dry stream beds and trails last year were shin deep runoff and mud holes this year. I was comforted in knowing that everyone would be enjoying the same fine conditions.

Photo by James Williams
My brother was crewing for me and was ready as I came into the first aid station, 12 miles in at Edinburgh Gap. He informed me that I was only five minutes behind the lead runners, which meant that I was starting out much faster than I had intended, but I felt like I was running easy so I tried not to worry about it too much.

The next twenty or so miles to Shawl Gap is one of the most technical sections of trails anywhere. Last year I fell here many, many times. I skillfully avoided most of my falls this time around by instead rolling my ankle, many, many times. Ouch.  About a half mile or so before Elizabeth Furnace fellow Altra athlete Angela Shartel snuck up behind me and we cruised into the aid station together. This would be the last I would see of her as she would leave Elizabeth Furnace before me and go on to crush the womens record and take seventh overall.

My brother Jared was waiting at Elizabeth AS with a swig of Ultragen. and a fresh pack. I took a quick minute to collect myself there and pose for a sweet picture (see above) before heading out and promptly having a full-blown meltdown. I had been keeping on top of my nutrition and fluids but all of a sudden I had that "maybe I should fall down for a little while" feeling. I sat down on the side of the trail and actually set 10 minute a timer for myself in case I ended up falling asleep. I don't know how many people passed me as I sat there but it was several.

I didn't feel well at all but I willed myself up just before my timer went off and tried to focus on just moving forward as fast as I could without putting myself deeper in the suck. I put down a caffeinated gel just before the next aid station at Shawl Gap and eventually started to come around. I don't know if it was the caffeine or just part of the ebb and flow but I really started to feel strong for the next few hours. I used the momentum to pass other runners on the road sections and maintain a steady pace on the climbs.

At Camp Roosevelt AS (mile 63) Jared was waiting again with a flask of Ultragen and some fresh gear. I took the time here to change my socks, not because they were wet but because they were packed with dirt and sand from the numerous creek crossings. This would prove to be a futile effort as the next three miles was literally a slog up a creek in shin deep water. Good times.

I got into the Visitor Center AS (mile 78) at almost exactly the same time as last year, just before sundown. I had purposely avoided knowing what position I was in all day so that I would be more inclined to run my own race. I was feeling good and ready to knock out the last 25 miles so I asked my brother what spot I was sitting in. "11th overall including two women." Dang. I knew the competition was a notch higher this year but I was gonna have to work if I wanted to break into the top 10. Time to go.

That would be the last time I would have any support on the course so tried to focus on the world in my headlamp beam and shut out the pain that always seems to creep in during the night. The climb up to Bird Knob went by quickly but the next "six" miles to the Picnic Area AS were the longest of the day. The section never seemed to end. The sounds of traffic let me know I was getting close to the Picnic Area AS when I saw headlamps ahead of me. I got into the aid station at the same time as the legendary Eva Pastalkova. She was looking tired but she barely took a minute in a chair before she was up and going again. Shit. No rest for the weary.

I had leapfrogged for several miles with Eva earlier in the day and I knew that she was the faster runner but that I could put some distance on her on the uphills. Fortunately, the next section was one of the biggest climbs of the course. Unfortunately, it was more like swimming than running. By the time I reached the top of the climb I had taken a full plunge in one of the several cold (so cold) stream crossings. But my uphill push had been successful and over the course of the next 15 miles I gained exactly an hour on Eva who would be the next finisher.

Can I please stop now?
The last three miles of road was more painful than it should have been but I had no idea how far behind Eva was and I had every intention of fighting until the end. I rolled into Camp Roosevelt 22h22m53s after I had started and I was beyond ready to be done. Massanutten wears you down from the start and I was mostly just happy that I didn't have to run over any more rocks. F#@k those rocks.

With a week now to process the whole affair, I really couldn't be any happier with how it all turned out. I got to spend a weekend with my dad, brother and extended running family that I haven't seen since last year. I cut about an hour off my time from last year. I finished a tough hundo without crippling back pain. I managed not to take a nap along the way. I got to stop running over those relentless rocks!

And maybe somewhere along the way I have learned, if just a little, to stop second guessing myself and what I am capable of. Maybe I will stop obsessing over the minutae and trust in my training and experience. Maybe sometimes it's just running and that's all it needs to be. I'll have to do some calculating...

The Spurlock boys.




Thursday, May 1, 2014

Inspiration

SHADOW RACE
Every time I've raced my shadow
When the sun was at my back,
It always ran ahead of me.
Always got the best of me.
But every time I've raced my shadow
When my face was toward the sun,
I won.
~Shel Silverstein


I had intended to write a race report following the Antelope Island Buffalo Run 50 mile back in March but it just never found it's way to the surface. I performed well enough and enjoyed visiting with friends but honestly, after some reflection, I found that any feelings I had about running there felt forced to me. Jim Skaggs puts on a fantastic series of races and the island itself does have a certain stark beauty about it. I have always enjoyed being there in the past. But I felt as though, this time, I was there to fulfill some sort of contrived and fabricated notion. I was there to race my perception of others expectations. That is not why I run.

Fast forward to mid-April. A trip to Bryce and Grand Canyon. No contrivances. Simply a bipedal animal moving through an immense landscape. My art is movement and my inspiration must be genuine or else I am a fraud. No finish lines or buckles or crowds to affirm my expression of being. Move swiftly because the rocks and trees and sun are unforgiving and do not compromise if my technique is insincere. This is why I run.




Monday, March 17, 2014

First-World Problems

I want an Oompa Loompa NOW! -Veruca Salt

     

With my first race of the year less than a week away I am faced with certain realities. I have been dealing with an injury for over six months now and, while I have been seeing steady improvement, it is likely that it will be several more months before I am back to my pre-injury level of running fitness. I have not been able to train at the intensity or volume that is necessary for meeting the kind of goals that I was setting for myself a year ago without doing further damage to myself. I have come to terms with this, though not without going through the stages of running-related grief:

 

Denial: The crippling pain in my back and hip is normal. I'm just being a sissy. It will surely go away after a few twenty mile tempo runs and a smokin' fast track workout!

 

Anger: WHY ME!?! I deserve better than this from the Ultrarunning Gods after all the toenails I have sacrificed and gels I have choked down over the years! F*<# you and your PR! I don't care, I hate running anyways! I want my money back!

 

Bargaining: Maybe if I just run hard on the odd days of the week, warm up real good first and wear my lucky arm panties...

 

Depression: Imma eat this whole cake cuz I'll probably never walk again. 

 

Acceptance: I am injured and it will take some time to get better. I will have to stretch and do the exercises that my physical therapist prescribed. I will have to work on my form and focus on other aspects of fitness while my body heals. I cannot eat a whole cake because I will not be able to fit into my lucky arm panties.

 

Most importantly, I have had some time to realize just how lucky I am that I get to do what I do and that it is okay to have a "building year". I might not finish this year's races as fast as I have in the past but I still get to run in some of the most beautiful and exotic places in the world with an amazing group of people. 

 

Even injured, I am more fit than 99% of the population and that is priceless. So, I will run as best I can while I continue to heal and not feel as though I am being "cheated" or missing out on "what could have been". The reality is that I am pretty damn privileged to be traveling the world, running hundreds of miles for fun. Fast or slow, I am going to enjoy that privilege.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Tuck and Roll...

 If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading  -Lao Tzu


The new year has brought some big news, and one of the best lessons I've learned from running ultras is that things can change in a hurry so you'd better be able to adapt.  Sometimes that means making better use of time and resources.  Sometimes that means making compromises and taking care of the important things first. 

Our little family will soon be a little bigger.  This is exciting news for Tawny and I, but it also means that we are going to have to work hard and stay focused if we want to keep working toward our goals.  We are both working,  going to school, and doing our best to raise an almost-tween.  Managing all of that and still finding time to run is going to take everything I've got.  Bring it on!

I've had to rearrange my racing schedule a bit this year because of Tawny's expected due date, but that that by no means leaves me short on adventure.  The biggest change I made was the decision to not run the Tahoe 200 in September.  I was super excited about this race from the time I heard about it, but it will have to wait.  Too close to more important things.  To her credit, Tawny did encourage me to sign up for it anyways.  Best.  Wife.  Ever. 

I still have a monster schedule building and might add on a thing or two as time permits.  So far my year looks something like this:

March: Antelope Island Buffalo Run 50(?) mile.  I'm just getting over an injury and this will mostly just be a systems check.  Maybe.

May:  Massanutten 100? This race has the most fair and transparent lottery system of any race out there.  I just happened to draw about the worst possible number.  I'd love to run this one again and see if I can't get through it without taking a nap but I'll have to see how the wait-list shakes out in February.

June:  Bighorn 100.  I will be taking my Rusty Spur Club award with me so they can stamp it with another sub-24.  The gauntlet has been thrown!

July:  Ronda del Cims.  This beast of a 100 mile race in Andorra has  over 13,000 meters (42,000 feet!) of elevation gain and a 60 hour cutoff.  Mierda!

August:  Standhope 60k near Ketchum, Idaho.  This small yet tough and technical race looks like the perfect way to cap off the season.  If I finish all the 100 milers I have lined up I will probably be lacking the speed to be too competitive here but one never knows.

Looks like it's time to get busy...



Sunday, November 24, 2013

Quality Juice

“In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.” - Buddha - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/calming-buddha-quotes/#sthash.PDrjO4pV.dpuf

 "In the sky, there in no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true."- Buddha

“In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.” - Buddha - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/calming-buddha-quotes/#sthash.PDrjO4pV.dpuf
“In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.” - Buddha - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/calming-buddha-quotes/#sthash.PDrjO4pV.dpuf
“In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.” - Buddha - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/calming-buddha-quotes/#sthash.PDrjO4pV.dpuf
“In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.” - Buddha - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/calming-buddha-quotes/#sthash.PDrjO4pV.dpuf

Okay, here we go with the obligatory "end-of-year recap and what's on tap for next year" post.  A quick summary would be that I either surprised myself with an unexpectedly strong performance or went down in a heap of smoking carnage.  About 50/50.  Having taken the last month off of running and giving myself some time away from a competitive mindset, I can say I am perfectly fine with a glass half full. The stuff that went into the glass is some dang good juice.  I got to travel to some amazing places with some amazing people, run in some of the most beautiful places in the country, and had freakin' great time.
Even when things didn't turn out quite as I had envisioned, lessons were learned and good times were had.  Except when things sucked, and that's okay. Sometimes you've gotta go through a lot of suck to get to the chewy nougat center of awesomeness, and usually you come out the other side a little wiser and a little stronger than before.

Looking back:
January: Spent two weeks on the island of Oahu in a lil' hut on the North Shore.  Had one of those races where everything came together and managed to run under 24hrs at the HURT 100.  Apparently slogging through the snow translates well to slogging through the jungle.
March: Dropped out of the Antelope Island Buffalo Run 100 at around 35 miles feeling flu-ish.  Not much I could do about that one.
May: A quick trip to Virginia and a redemption run at the MMT 100.  Managed a sub-24 with a 90 minute nap included.  Sleep is important.
June: Made the yearly pilgrimage to Dayton, WY for the Bighorn 100.  Things started off rough but sometimes it just takes a little while to warm up.  Happy to be done in 21:10.  Where the hell did that come from?
July:  Made a run at an unsupported loop around the Hardrock 100 course.  DNF.  Stopped around 55 miles in.  If I had it to do over again I'd probably take a little more time for naps and cookies.  Sleep is important! 
September:  Another DNF at the Bear 100 just to even things out.  Had some mechanical issues in my back and hip.  45 miles in and still on sub-24 pace when I dropped but I'll take a few more years of running over a glorious crippling any day.

The present:
Working on some rehab for my hip and making plans for.....

The future:
2014 is gonna be another burner!  Plans on tap for now include (but not limited to): MMT 100 in May to see if I can make a loop without falling asleep, Bighorn 50 to keep in line with tradition, Ronda del Cims (because it's freakin' Andorra!) in July, and Tahoe 200 in September because it will be nothing short of epic!

And if I end up with a DNF somewhere along the way, that's okay.  Anything is better than a DNS.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Lessons from the San Juan




This is an abridged and much belated report on my "Softerrock100" attempt.  Sorry about the delay, I've been really busy!

A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.
Mark Twain

For the last four summers I have made the trip to Colorado's San Juan Mountains.  Each year has brought a different experience.  I have participated in and paced for The Hardrock 100.  I have made an epic 55 mile, one day trek from Vallecito Reservoir to Molas Pass.  I have spent many hours among the beauty and thin air of Colorado's high country.  It is a place unlike any other and demands to be respected.  It's beauty is intoxicating but it will humble you quickly if you fail to pay attention to what the mountains are telling you

Two years ago, the year I ran Hardrock, my dad set out a week before the race in an attempt to complete the circuit on his own within the 48 hour Hardrock cutoff.  No aid stations, only a short nap in the camper about half way through.  He finished with little time to spare, but he finished.

As the roles were reversed this year with my father being selected via lottery to run the "official" race I thought it only fair to attempt what most have come to call "Soft Rock".  My spin on the challenge was to attempt the circuit with no outside help, aid stations or drop bags.  Upon hearing of my plans (and denied by the lottery once again), Mike Evans decided to join in the attempt.

We decided to start and finish at Ouray for the sake of logistics as my dad would be checking on us at a few select points along the way.  He agreed not to offer any help unless solicited but to act solely as a safety net if anything went awry.  We left Ouray at 4am the Sunday before Hardrock, heading toward Telluride.  

I will forego the suspense and say now that we did not reach our initial goal.  We had a fantastic time "running" through the San Juans, but fell short in our attempt to complete the full loop.  No excuses, it kicked our asses!  Mike ended his journey at Silverton, unable to take in calories.  I stopped shortly after at Cunningham, stumbling, exhausted, and making the decision to stop as a matter of safety.  No worries, the San Juans will be there for a long time and I will most certainly be back at some point to revel in their splendor and subject myself to their relentless tutelage.















The story is not quite over, however.  My father ended up finishing The Hardrock 100 a few days later in 36:10:35.  About 16 minutes faster than I managed two years earlier.  Not only did he run the race faster than I but he also has the distinction of finishing the loop solo.  Dang.  That's one tough Old Goat.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Bighorn 100 Race Report 2013

“Turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream.”
John Lennon

 I will make an effort to keep this report brief because, well, I have got a lot to do in the next couple of weeks!  That being said, this will not likely be too brief because it was such a rich experience.

On the way to Wyoming with Tawny and Ella

Last week I headed over to Dayton, Wyoming with my wife, dad, mom and the dogs for some relaxing and some running at the Bighorn Trail Run.  I was running the 100 mile, my mother was running the 50k, my dad was on pacing duty for me and my wife was set to crew.  I was really looking forward to this race for a number of reasons.  The Bighorn Mountains are beautiful and rugged, I knew a ton of people who would be there and was excited to chat and run with them, and because this was where I ran my first ultra in 2007.  That first 50 mile ultra changed my life in ways I could never have foreseen.  I have been fortunate enough to be able to return to the Bighorn races every year since and hope to continue that annual pilgrimage for some time.

We arrived in Sheridan on Thursday for pre-race check in and then headed over to the Foothills Campground in Dayton.  The Foothills Campground and adjacent park comprise the staging area and finish line for the Bighorn races.  It was like a family reunion.  Dogs and kids and runner folk from all across the country catching up on life and stories.  For me, the Foothills Campground and the culture that surrounds it for a few days every June is just as much a part of the experience as the actual races held around it.  Awesomeness.
Kris Q and I, setting fashion trends. 

I awoke Friday morning feeling well rested and relaxed.  Unlike many races that start at completely unreasonable hours before even farmers, chickens and donut makers are awake, the Bighorn 100 starts at a merciful 11A.M.  Plenty of time to sleep in, eat breakfast and take in the pre-race energy.   I had no excuses and was very much looking forward to a fun day on the trails.

The Bighorn 100 mile is an out and back course and so the race starts a few miles outside of Dayton for the sake of logistics.  Runners started arriving about an hour before the start.

The national anthem was sung and we were off.  My "plan" was to use the first big climb to warm up and then slowly reel in others throughout the day.  I managed to stick to that plan as we headed up toward Lower Sheep Creek but not without considerable effort.  My energy level and mental state were good but my lower half seemed to be working against me.  My hips were tight, legs felt heavy, and I had a shooting pain in my left foot every time I stepped down.  This all continued as I saw my crew for the first time at Dry Fork aid station at about mile 14.

Cruising into Dry Fork

My wife was there with a new pack and I barely slowed as I checked through somewhere between 15th or 20th place.  Over the  next ten or so rolling miles I was making a conscious effort to gain ground on some of the runners ahead of me.  I was making good time but slowly losing ground to everyone ahead of me and it still seemed like I was running through mud.  It was around mile 25 that I decided to stop worrying about what others were doing and concentrate on having a good time and running to my own strengths rather than set my pace based on others.

Some day I am going to learn that this is what I should be doing all the time.  As soon as I adjusted my mindset to focus on where I was and what I was doing, instead of worrying about others, things really started to come together.  By the time I reached the Footbridge aid station at 30 miles I was feeling strong and ready for the long and steady climb up to the turn around.  I pushed hard for the next few hours but was alone for almost the entire time.  A few miles from the top I started catching runners that had gone out much faster than I.  Game on.

Ready to go after a 48 mile warmup
My wife was again spot on at the turnaround and got me quickly set up with night gear.  I also picked up my dad here who would pace me back to Dry Fork.  I could tell he was excited to go because he took off like a rocket!  I was feeling really good at this point and figured "why not?"  Long story short, we crushed the next 34 miles.  I let my dad lead and the miles seemed to fly by whether we were cruising the downhills or grinding the uphills.  Nobody passed us but we passed quite a few others.  Being able to spend hours on the trail with my father on Father's Day weekend was a real treat and I was grateful to have him along.

Dry Fork Ridge seemed to come around again all too quickly.  My wife was once again waiting and ready to keep me moving.  I spent just a few minutes at the Dry Fork aid station swapping packs and socks before heading out into the very chilly dawn.  It was light enough that I didn't need a headlamp and I was looking forward to the sun coming around to warm things up a bit.

At this point I was in 5th place and was very determined to keep it that way.  I knew the next runner ahead was probably out of reach but had no idea who was behind me or how close they were so I pushed hard the last 17 miles into Dayton and ended up 5th overall in 21:10.  Not bad considering I hadn't done any specific training for this race.

Bighorn 100, DONE! Next?
 In the end I had a great race, got to spend some quality time with family and friends and just had a really fantastic time overall.  As with any long race, there were plenty of ups and downs, lessons were learned and toenails will be lost.  I won't mention everyone here who made it such a special weekend because, honestly, there are just too many to name!  You know who you are and thank all of you for making the Bighorn Wild and Scenic Trail Run such a big part of my life.  See y'all next year!