Adieu 2008

In a few hours the adventures of 2008 will finally be consigned to the archives and another new will begin. As I scan through race calendars I’m surprised to see many races in 2009 are already filled up and I wonder if this is a good or bad thing for the sport. Trail running and particularly ultra running has boomed in the last couple of years. There seem to be more and more races springing up with an almost never ending demand for places. In October I directed a 50k event and filled the entry before the declared cutoff date. The deadline was intended to allow sufficient time to order finisher awards and other supplies thereby ensuring that everyone received the correct size etc. Despite this, many runners wrote to express their frustration at having to commit to the event so far in advance – the deadline was just 2 weeks before race day! As it happened many of those that voiced these comments cited their reasoning as being due to the fact that they were planning to participate in a marathon or other long distance event one or two weeks before my event and had hoped to capitalize on their fitness. Many of them who also signed up for my race didn’t appear on race day. Of course the option to sign up and not participate is entirely up to them, but I’m sure this is happening at many other events and I question what the long term impact will be on the sport. How much of the demand for overall race entries are genuine compared to those that ‘blanket’ register and then fail to turn up. These entries will be a short term boom that will quickly evaporate and what will happen to all those races then? I read today that the Umstead 100 has already filled it’s entry quota but will still accept ‘competitve’ runners. Interesting, as I thought one of the unique elements of ultra running was that to be competive in the sport you simply had to accept the challenge. Is this an sign that ultra running is in danger of losing its true spirit? The events that survive will be those that build a reputation and captivate the imagination of runners through good organization, challenging course and lastly a certain mystic that passes through the field during post and pre-race conversation. The events that survive will do so by word of mouth not full color advertisements in magazines.

So as I look towards another year of running, where will I be headed? Attempting the Slam in 2008 changed my outlook on the sport in terms of I wanted and gained from it. Maybe that was because I didn’t achieve my goal, but in the attempt I still averaged one ultra distance race every two months with several shorter events in between together with numerous long training runs in excess of 30 miles. Ironically, the most rewarding events were the last two which is something I wouldn’t have predicted at the beginning of my quest. I’ve already been asked if I shall try the Slam again and the honest answer is I don’t know but judging by the way races fill up, I’ll need to decide pretty soon. I have already committed to Western States by virtue of a carry over entry from the cancellation in 2008. I would like to take another stab at Leadville simply because I’d like to say I’d do it, the course itself wasn’t the most inspiring in my opinion. Wasatch was by far the most impressive course of the four in terms of scenery and difficulty. Vermont has a unique atmosphere with the combined horse race.

But then, in 2008 I brought a bike and enjoyed the change from running, I even swam a couple of times so maybe in the coming year I’ll ‘tri’ something different.

A well traveled secret

From the ashes of a California fire, the Arkansas Traveler 100 provided the final venue for the 2009 Grand Slam. The organizers hoped that hopeful Slammers would broaden the awareness of their race, but after Leadville many of the original 27 or so entrants were struck off the list and only 6 remained. Many of the others didn’t make the journey to Arkansas, it seemed there was a perception that the Traveler wasn’t going to be a particularly interesting course ‘flat’ and ‘easy’ were words that often appeared in conversation. It turned out to be anything but that!

The race web site described the route as predominantly dirt roads or 4 wheel drive tracks and that certainly conjured images of a Vermont 100 type course. The reality was much more rugged than that and if anyone offered to drive me a long the course (even in an ATV), I think I’d prefer to walk for safety’s sake! It may not have particularly high elevations but there were certainly plenty of ‘undulations’ to tax the legs and sap energy. But any discomfort from the challenge was more than made up by the enthusiastic warm hospitality of everyone involved in the event. You went between 6 to 3 miles between aid stations and each one was run by runners who were out to enjoy their day and ensure the competitors did the same. The first thing that struck me was that on checking in and announcing my number I immediately became a name because someone instantly called that out from their check sheet. The air would quickly fill with banter about ‘cute accent’, ‘nice legs’, ‘love the shorts’ or ‘if you don’t see what you want ask us’. Several times I headed out back on to the course chuckling even though I paused barely a minute or two to gather food and a drink.

If I’m honest, I had been a bit disheartened with the previous three races, being sick in Leadville hadn’t helped, I perhaps pushed too recklessly at VT and at Wasatch I was apprehensive about not finishing two in a row. At the Traveler, I decided to take a more relaxed approach but during the race to also apply a bit more focus. The main difference was that my eating and drink regime hadn’t been working and I was tired of battling nausea hour after hour. So from the first aid station I eat like a horse no matter whether it had been just a short distance since the previous one. I ate enough PB&J sandwiches to sink a battleship! I drank soda to compliment the Gatorade I carried but when getting refreshment the aid stations were organized enough to provide trash bins down the trail that allowed you to grab what you wanted a keep moving.

One of the first aid stations revealed a steaming platter of bacon and pancake slices which amazed me as we really weren’t far into the day. Dipped in syrup those pancakes though were delicious and on the second time through the station I made sure to grab another handful! The early hours of the race though were drenched with cold heavy rain while thunder and lightening crashed above us. The cool temperatures weren’t I had expected and if it had continued I was going to need to reconsider the layering I had on. As the sun rose though so did the temperature and for the rest of the day and night I was comfortable in a short sleeved shirt. The rain though did provide one of those never again trail running experiences however. The damp and friction from my shorts had removed the body glide protection I had applied at the start and after a while the discomfort was annoying enough that I had to do something. The next station where I’d see Guthrie was some way off but a thought crossed my mind – I had a chapstick in my drink holder pocket, maybe that would provide temporary relief. I pulled out the stick, slapped a lump on my finger and applied the said gu. A sensation that I can only assimilate to having your groin set on fire ensued. I reached back into my pocket and held the chap stick at arms length to read the fine print on the label – the words ‘menthol’ and ‘medicated’ suggested that this hadn’t been a good idea! By the next aid station the fire was now smoldering nicely and despite several liberal applications of Vaseline during the day, the embers never completely died out.

The regular intake of PB&J worked like putting oil on a rusty engine, I ran relaxed and full of energy. A brief spell off trail earlier on momentarily damped the enjoyment but not for too long, I hadn’t felt this good during a race for a long time and I intended to enjoy it. Six miles from the turnaround Guthrie asked if she could run with me. We chugged along chatting about the race and the realization that I was in 4th place. As the runners ahead passed us heading back it was evident that the gap between 2 and 4th wasn’t that big but with a significant distance still to go I tried not to think about it. Keeping a steady pace with Guth wasn’t easy and by the time she left me I was starting to feel queasy from the extra effort we’d expended. One more station on and a volunteer told me I was now second after the second placed guy had dropped and the third one was struggling.

For the next 40 odd miles I tried not to think about placement but to just keep doing what I was doing. The encouragement from the aid stations continued to flow, day turned to night and my feet start to complain about the constant pounding. Slowly, blisters made running over uneven ground very uncomfortable and my paced slowed. With just 6 miles to go the runner who earlier had fallen behind me trotted by with his pacer. I briefly tried to hang onto his shirt tails but the darkness swallowed they both up and they were gone.

The final aid station was 1.9 miles from the finish almost entirely downhill on a packed dirt road. The final section was paved and floods lights in the distance looked like the finish. I still running despite the sore feet, but the road turned away from the lights, then back toward, then away once again! Finally, parked cars a long the road meant we really were at the end. I crossed the line with music blasting and my name announced over a PA. But in the early hours of the morning there was just Guthrie, the Race Director and one other person to witness it.

It would be easy to say my Traveler 100 experience was a positive one, after all it isn’t often you can claim to have finished in one of the top three places. I certainly couldn’t claim to have finished in a particularly fast time and one a different course with different opposition my placement would have undoubtedly more average. Luckily for me everything (except for the chapstick incident) went well on the day but the lasting memory of the race will be the effort by everyone concerned to make the occasion what it was. The Traveler 100 doesn’t deserve being rated as ‘easy’ or that Arkansas is an exciting place to visit. If you are considering a 100, even if it is your first, you should consider this one; only don’t tell everyone about the secret, if they all run it that southern hospitality might just not be the same!

Have shoes, will travel

Ever since I didn’t finish Leadville my motivation to blog regularly has wained. There is only so much you can say about getting up and going for a run, then on a different day – describe how I got up and went for another run. But we’re now in Arkensas for the Traveller 100 the last race of the 2008 series. The pre-race briefing was like any other, “please don’t poop and leave your TP on the trail, don’t drop litter, don’t allow your crew here or there, tell us if you drop out, etc”. It is almost like a running blog, there is only so much you can say. I made a mental note about that because in 4 weeks I’ll be standing in front of 70 plus runners to brief them about the 50k I’m directing.

The start of the Traveller is about 40 minutes drive from Little Rock, it is nestled in woods and the course is over 70% dirt road. The weather forecast is ‘good’, warm and dry which really means that Saturday’s race will be a long slog. The people seem very friendly and the event is small compared to the other 100s in the Slam. After checking in I sat in the shade a read and Guth went for a short run while we waited for the briefing. Later over dinner Guthrie asked if after 3 hundreds (2 and a half I corrected her), did I feel any different, either more tired, fatigued or stronger? I thought about it and replied that it wasn’t so much a feeling of fatigue but a tiredness of ‘more of the same’. Earlier in the week she had asked me a question about the race and I had to confess I hadn’t given the event a thought. All the arrangements had been made weeks ago and with the plans set I had tended to push them to the back of my mind. We packed before our flight to Little Rock just a few hours before leaving the house, jumped on a plane and here we are. Driving to the start I looked through the brief notes, but they never really mean much to me. I know the course will be marked, I know I need to eat and drink regularly, my equipment is tried and tested, and as for conditions on the day, what will be will be. I noticed several of the runners at the briefing who were obviously first time 100 mile runners judging by the obvious mixture of nervousness and excitement that they showed. I remember feeling the same at my first 100.

After Leadville my enthusiasm for ultra running had wained, but then came Wasatch. I had been a little apprehensive at the prospect of not finishing twice in a row, but the reality was that the spectacular environment awakened a spark inside that reminded how exhilarating running in high country with vistas as far as the eye could see can be. The Traveller isn’t going to be as spectacular but I’m sure it will have its challenges and at the end of the day, it will still be 100 miles. So even thought it hasn’t yet started, I’ve already committed to running a 100k in December and Western States next June.

The buzz may not be quite the same, but I guess the journey isn’t yet over.

Round two?

The dust hasn’t yet settled on the trails of the 4 100s I set out to complete this year, in fact one of them hasn’t event taken place, but already I’ve had to commit to deciding whether to enter the 2009 Western States 100. Following the cancellation of this years event because of forest fires, the organizers offered all the accepted entrants a place in the 2009 race, subject to meeting entry qualifications, without having to go through their lottery process. They’ve even offered a break on the usual entry fee, so how could I refuse!

As for the other events, I’m still undecided – but ‘never say never’.

Pondering the Fall

After a week on the road in the sunny climes of Antigua, the past weekend provided 2 days of perfect running as the early signs of fall descend upon us. Getting off the plane back in CT on Friday evening it was noticeably cooler than when I left the previous Tuesday and by Saturday morning the thermometer was showing 47 degrees. At the meeting point for our run, we shivered as we waited for the last runners to arrive before setting off into the woods keen to get warm. It had been decided to check out the trails of a local state forest know as Cockaponsset, which is close to the town of Chester, CT. The trail system offers some great running, parts are technically challenging but there are also areas where caution can be abandoned. There were no bugs in the air, the sun shone and the temperature turned out to be perfect, you really couldn’t ask for better conditions.

After about an hour outbound from the cars, half the group turned back while six of us continued. By now though we were quite spread out so every now and again we regrouped to allow the back marker to catch up. Four days of zero running didn’t seem to have any negative effects, in fact the run was one of those occasions when everything seemed to click into place. If only that had continued into Sunday.

Same location, different company, different day but same crisp fall weather. By coincidence Guthrie had arranged to meet friends to run once again at Cockaponsett and then go for breakfast. The zip in my legs wasn’t quite the same as the day before but then the pace at times was also a little quicker and the last couple of miles on a dirt road at the end felt like my eye balls were about to pop out! Within seconds of stopping though, as is often the case when you run under strain, the moment of discomfort is a distant memory and it was time for breakfast. We chatted in the sunshine, enjoyed omelette, toast and coffee and time flew by without a care.

Life here in New England is characterized by the passing of distinct seasons, the Fall is probably my favorite because the air smells fresh, the temperatures are perfect for outdoor activities and there is something about the almost childlike pleasure of wading through crisp crackly leaves that have fallen to the ground.

It is two weeks before the Traveller 100, the last of my Slam odyssey.

View from my window

This week brings me to Antigua, not for a leisurely sun baked vacation but 2 days work. Still my running stuff is in my bag and later today I hope to drip out through the humidity for a short bimble.

Since Wasatch my running has been relaxed, the ribs are still sore but not sufficient to prevent a 3.5 hour run last Saturday when a group of us bit the Bluff. For the uninitiated, that involves running a significant section of the route to be used for the Bluff 50k Race that I’m directing at the end of next month. So, you’ve not entered yet? May you should – click here.

This is my first trip to Antigua. I can in from San Juan last night and had to find my hotel which is hidden downtown by the quay. I passed it 3 times before I finally worked out how to reach the entrance. The roads are hardly wide enough to get a single car through and they twist and turn constantly so maintaining your bearings is a challenge. This morning there is a gentle breeze but it does nothing for the humidity that is a stark contrast from the weather I left behind in CT.

I can’t give you a taste of the atmosphere, but below you can at least see the view from my hotel window.

Enjoy the memory

So far this week I’ve run once since Wasatch. I decided to give my sore ribs chance to recover but also the motivation hasn’t been there and there didn’t seem to be any point to fight it. This morning I joined the early run and felt great to begin with; “hey the rest has done me good!” I thought, but pretty soon the ache in my ribs and tired legs hinted that the burst of energy was short term. How easy is it to forget.

On the subject of memory loss though I spotted an article yesterday that described a study into as association between memory loss and a deficiency of the vitamin B12.

Older people with lower than average vitamin B12 levels were more than six times more likely to experience brain shrinkage, researchers concluded.

While race times seem to be slowing these days, the pace of advancement towards permanent confusion and incontinence seems to ever increase. Why is it that as you get older the days pass so much quicker? Hopefully I have plenty of time before it becomes a reality (assuming I make it that far) and it will be nice to be able to reflect back on some of the crazy adventures of the past. In the mean time, I guess I need to make sure I’m getting enough vitamins.