Rockstar Ultra Runner

Musings of Racing, Records, Rehab and the Unforseeable Future.

2011-11-15T11:14:00.001-06:00

The only good thing about enduring painfully long bouts with injury. Is that it gives you plenty of time to think about everything that led you to being injured in the first place. As I look back on this year. It's easy for me to find where I screwed up in training. Where it all began to go wrong. I could rattle off a list a mile long but I won't...For everything I did wrong. For every rookie mistake I made. Not listening to my body when I was tired. Blowing right past the warning signs of over training and fatigue. Ultimately ending me up exactly where I sit right now. I would not have done it any differently.

It's rare for one who screwed up their body as I did by over training to not have any regrets. Yeah I suppose I would have liked to have had some kind of a Summer season as well as a Fall season. I wish now, with the cooler Fall temperatures. I could come home from work and head out to the trails for a soul refreshing run. Instead of having to settle for another boring spin on the exercise bike or elliptical trainer. But all that is out of my control right now.

I'm not gonna sit here and complain about what I'm not getting to do. Instead rather I've been reflecting on the positive things I did this year. Everything happens for a reason. Sounds pretty commonplace to make a statement like this. The truth is, if nothing happened then we would never experience any levity or joy. No anguish, no passion. We would never experience anything that would warrant getting our asses out of bed in the morning. Complexity is the spice of life. It's what drives the human race in one form or another. All my injury has accomplished; Is that it's reinforced just how much love I have for this crazy ass sport and the people that make up such a unique conclave of individuals.

To say that I had an "off year", is the same as saying Albert Puhols had an off year. I'm a pretty stubborn individual. Hard headed to say the least. So it's no surprise that I hold myself to a pretty high standard. Though I fell way short of that standard this year. I still feel I had a pretty decent year. If anything I left myself with a pretty good platform to launch from next year. A year in which my goals will be just as high as they were this year.

So what now? What's the plan? I just turned 37 last month but that hasn't stopped me from dreaming like a 25 year old on the doorstep of his prime. I still have a long and winding road ahead with my injury. With another couple tough months of trying to avoid the holiday gremlins.

The first thing, the only thing right now. Is to get myself 100% healthy. Until that happens I'm in sort of a holding pattern. Baring any unforeseen setbacks. The plan is to return to running sometime around the first weekend in January. From there it will be a slow and steady progression towards a Spring goal race at the 50 mile distance. Since I didn't get a Western States Qualifier in this year for 2012. That will be my only focus for the first have of next year.

If I can manage to get through the summer without landing myself in the same boat I'm in now. Then my goal for the Fall is to return to the desert and go for the record on the Kokopelli Trail again. We came within a few hours of it this year! After all the setbacks during the run. Everything that went wrong logistically. I feel confident that the team and myself can fix what went wrong and bring the record back home. For ever how long that might be?

On a more positive note. I did bend the rules somewhat this past weekend and put rehab on the back burner to go down and pace my good best friend Darin Schneidewind down at the OT 100 miler in the Ozarks of S. Central Missouri. He ran one Hell of a race and I won't do his story any justice to re-tell it here. So checkout his report at http://runnerfreak69.blogspot.com/ for the play by play on how it all went down.

Desert Dreaming: My Kokopelli Trail Speed Record Attempt

2011-06-18T09:23:00.434-06:00

    Before I start to recant this most epic of adventures. I want to first thank my wife and family for all their support and sacrifice over the past six months. Preparing for a run of this size requires one to be very selfish. You unselfishly stood behind me through the whole thing. For that I owe you everything.

    Theres no better way to start this adventure then to jump right in. Darin and I arrived in Moab, Utah way ahead of schedule. I can only attribute this to Darin's ability to drive like he runs. There was no argument from me. Hell I was just as excited to be getting the Hell outta of tornado alley and hitting up some of that sweet single track Moab was serving up 24/7. Before we could do that though we had to find the perfect camping spot. Which would be home for the next week.

    This turned out to be a no brainer. There was only one spot I really wanted to be and that was right near the Western Terminus of the Kokopelli's Trail. The Slickrock Trail Head. For me this was the mythological finish line to a journey I had been dreaming about since first reading about Peter and Stephanie's record on this Beast back in 2004.

    Darin and I scouted out a nice spot tucked up against one of the famed slick rocks. With Porcupine Rim and the La Sal mountains looming in the near distance. It was a classic million dollar view that can simply be described as jaw dropping.

    After camp was set up and everything just right. We headed into town to pick up some grub for the grill and some cold beers of course. Making it back to camp just in time to watch the day fade away as night descended upon the Moab valley.

    The next morning I woke to the sound of my tent shifting in the morning breeze. The sun wasn't quite up yet. So I layed in my tent for a few minutes. There was a cold bite to the air and my blanket felt too cozy to jump right out of. I just took in the sounds as I layed there.

    Finally, I had to answer the call of nature. As I unzipped my tent I was blown away at the sight that unfolded before my eyes. Outside my door was a blanket of Morning Glories at the peak of their bloom. In the distance behind them the morning sunlight began to warm the Cliffs of Arches National Park. The perfect backdrop with it's reddish orange splendor to compliment the flowers.

    I had to take advantage of this light. I grabbed my camera. Threw on my Crossmax XR's and was out of the tent lickity split. Exploring the slickrock playground that was completely surrounding me.

    As I watched the sun rise over the valley below. Perched on the edge of a small canyon. With the La Sal's close enough to reach. I fully grasped for the first time the magnitude of what I was about to attempt in a few short days. No matter how big I thought what I was about to do actually was. It was nothing compared to how small and insignificant this wonderland made me feel at that very moment.

    The next few days were spent scouting out the several different checkpoints. Rendezvousing with crew and pacers. I had to soak it all up and take it in now. As soon as I started I would have no time to stop and smell the flowers.

    Fast forward to Friday morning...

    T-minus 12 hours and counting til go time. It's 5 AM and I can't sleep. My stomach is in knots by this point. My mind is pacing with an anxiety I could only imagine being similar to that of a prisoner who's living out his last few days on Death Row. The only difference being that. Even though at times this run will feel like a death sentence to me. Ultimately, after it's all said and done. I would not die but be born again.

    Reluctantly I crawled out of my tent and walked over to sit at the picnic table. All the little nagging aches and pains that had plagued me coming into this thing had faded. I took that as a good sign. Theres nothing like feeling healthy just in the nick of time.

    Once everyone was up and moving around we loaded up the Jeep with everything we thought we might need. Then headed to town to grab some breakfast. I was too nervous to eat much of anything. I began to regret the decision to start so late in the afternoon. I wanted to get going right then and there. The waiting was going to drive me crazy by the end of the day.

    After breakfast we lit out for the trail and backtracked our way to the start at the Loma Trailhead near Fruita, Colorado. Showing Ben all the crucial checkpoints. So that he could be confident getting to them by himself the next day. After finishing up with that we headed on into Fruita for some last minute items and grabbed some lunch.

    I slowly picked my way through a B.L.T. sandwich and some pasta salad. Nothing was setting well in my stomach at this point. There was a sense of isolation around the table. Even though I was with two of my best friends. At that moment, I felt miles away from everyone.

    After we ate Darin and Ben asked if there was anything else we needed to do? I said I couldn't think of anything. "Lets just get over to the trailhead and get ready to do this thing."

    It took about 15 minutes to drive form Fruita to the start of the Kokopelli Trail in Loma, Colorado. Once there I grabbed my tote and running clothes. Then headed over to the restrooms to get changed. I finished getting ready and we had about an hour left until we started. So we sat under the shade of the pavilion near the trailhead and tried to pass the time.

    With a half hour to go. I made a couple of last minute phone calls to family back home. The call that tore me up the most was the one I made to my wife and kids. Right before I finished my wife put my son on the line. I hadn't seen my little buddy for a few days. He told me that he loved and missed me very much. He said that he wished I was there at home playing with him. I told him the same things all while trying not to fall apart. "As soon as I get this thing done. I'll be heading straight back to you , mommy and lil' sis as fast as we can drive. Promise."

    With the phone calls out of the way and pulling myself back together. That left about 10 minutes to go time. That was it. A year and a half of planning, training, racing. All for this exact moment was about to be over. All that was left to do now. Was to take the first step forward. Then commit to keep making forward progress until I either collapsed or walked all the way to Moab.

    5, 4, 3, 2...1! Here we go! I would be running the first section from Loma to Rabbit Valley Trailhead during the hottest part of the day. Because I started at 5:00 PM I knew I wouldn't have to be running in it for very long. Night would soon be here. Allowing me to cross the Cisco Desert section under the cool blanket of night.

    Running along feeling fairly confident about what I was trying to do was when I ran face first. Into my first hurdle of what would be many throughout the day.As I was making good time up a gentle grade on county road coming up to the Rabbit Ears Trailhead parking area. I went to take a drink off my bladder pack. It was bone dry! I still had 5 miles to make it to my crew at Rabbit Valley Trailhead. How the Hell was I going to manage this?

    After 5 miles of a reduced pace and choking on dust from all the Memorial Day weekend R.V.'ers. I made it to my crew. Upset at myself for underestimating just how dry it was out there and making a bonehead mistake of not taking more water than I needed for that long of a section.

    Discouraged I told my crew that I wasn't too sure how this was all going to turn out. Being the top notch crew they were. They assured me everything was going to be O.K. and that they would get me back into it.

    After slugging down a bottle of water. Some juice and a couple of PB&J's. I was out onto the next section. From Rabbit Valley to Bittercreek Overlook. There were a couple tricky intersections that we hadn't checked out in the days prior. It was going to be dark through here and all I knew was. If I didn't get my shit together and get my head screwed back on right it would be a real short run...

    The sun had gone down but there was still some light in the sky. I waited as long as possible before I turned on my headlamp. With the tricky intersections coming up I wanted to be sure that my headlamp would be good and bright when I got there.

    I moved pretty good through this section. A little too good in fact. From all the map reading and worrying about the stupid mistake I had made on the previous section. I completely lost track of time and pace. I was running totally within myself so I hadn't bothered to look at the watch to check my pace. When I came into the Bittercreek Overlook. I was 50 minutes up on my pre-planned arrival time.

    After power hiking up a short steep climb into the checkpoint. I just told my crew. "Don't ask me where that came from." Ben sat me down and asked me what I needed? My attitude had done a complete 180 and I actually started to feel like I could pull this off.

    I got what I needed and wasn't too worried about time at this point. I should have been though looking back on it now. I wasted a huge chunk of time here. Nearly 20 minutes doing only God knows what? Wasting time would be another problem I would have to come to terms with by the end of the run.

    I picked up Darin out of the checkpoint to pace me through the night. It was earlier than I was supposed to pick him up. I figured though he could help me keep the pace reigned in better than I could by myself. It was nice to have the company and a second set of eyes to help me spot for trail markers.

    Not a whole helluva a lot happened through here. Darin and I kept the pace relaxed and conversational. Still way too fast though for as many miles as we had left to go. We tried to offset our running pace with additional brief walking breaks but we were still covering ground way too quickly.

    Next thing we knew we were pulling into Cisco Landing at 3:00 Am in the morning. 10 hours of running for 56.7 miles of the trail. I was still feeling fresh and really optimistic about our chances at the record. Tick, tock, tic, tock!!! After changing shoes and socks. Re lubing my feet and putting on a dry shirt. I managed to piss away another 18 minutes.

    "Well lets get the Hell outta here." Next stop McGraw Bottoms. 67.3 miles. Just like during my 100 milers. I fully expected to go through a rough spot somewhere during this section. I had been going way too good for way too long.

    When Darin and I were running between our walk breaks. We still managed to maintain sub 10 minute mile pace. The only problem was that the walk break were beginning to take a little longer each time. I started to feel the amount of work I had done up to this point. fully anticipating that rough patch around the next bend.

    "And there it is!" Just as predicted. Right around 100km into this monster. I hit my first bad patch. Since I was expecting it to happen right around this time it didn't seem to be as bad. I sort of mentally braced myself. Expecting the worst and was relieved when it passed after about 10 minutes. Sucking it up. I told myself to just keep moving. That people have came out here to see me do this. That people back home were rooting for me. I couldn't let them down.

    After my mini meltdown. The sun started to come up. We could start to make out landmarks all around us. Darin and I were now right next to the Colorado River. On a single track section of trail through some river willows. The moon still high in the sky. Reflected off the waters of the mighty Colorado as birds started to come alive to greet the morning.

    With the new morning came new energy.The brain fog I had just a few miles earlier had faded. My body began to wake up again. The last couple of miles of this section was on some pretty decent gravel road. We were able to pick up the pace somewhat and stretch out the legs a bit. Rolling into McGraw Bottoms checkpoint on Hwy 128 at 5:32 AM. Still 13 minutes up on my predicted arrival time.

    At McGraw I took my right shoe and sock off to check out a hot spot on my right big toe. It felt like it had a huge blister on it. I tried for what felt like forever to lance it but it just wasn't ready or it just wasn't there? Wasting another big butt load of time. I ended up just re lubing the troubled area. Threw my shoes and socks back on. Grabbed some juice, PB&J, Pringles a dry shirt and got the Hell out. Leaving out of there about one minute behind my predicted arrival time.

    There was about a half mile section of Hwy 128 we had to run down. Before we crossed the road to head up into Yellow Jacket Canyon. I couldn't really run though. I was still trying to choke down the food I grabbed at McGraw. Plus my legs had decided to stiffen up after being on my feet for the better half of 12 hours.

    Darin and I crossed over the highway and immediately the climb up into Yellow Jacket Canyon began. It was a slow gradual climb up. We passed a couple who had been camping out under the stars along the side of the trail. Both still tucked into their warm sleeping bags. While Darin and I tried to lower our voices as we passed. I told Darin. "That looked like a good idea." Not even thinking about the real fact that I would have to wait another 23 hours before I could do the same.

    Yellow Jacket Canyon was an absolute delight as the morning sun was rising. I got a little nostalgic through this section. As it reminded me of my old stomping grounds in Choke Cherry Canyon near Farmington, New Mexico. Where I had lived for a few years. A lot of roller coaster ups and downs. Over colossal chunks of Navajo Sandstone formations. Our pace had slipped a little through here. Still running, we just weren't really pushing it. Finding our way out of Yellow Jacket Canyon. Darin and I were treated to a couple of natural sandstone arches along the bluffs as we descended a smooth but sandy OHV road back down to Hwy 128. Crossing the road and Dewey Bridge. Our next checkpoint.

    We made it to Dewey Bridge out of water for the second time and 14 minutes behind my goal pace but still 20 minutes up on record pace at 7:48 AM. Here we met up with Salomon teammate Eric Bohn and his wife Janey and their dog. Who made the drive up from Flagstaff to help crew and pace. After all the introductions were out of the way. We got to work on getting me back out there. Since it had already become a reoccurring theme throughout the day. I should mention that I wasted another 15 minutes at this checkpoint too!

    Dewey Bridge to Fischer Valley miles 77.10 - 95.20 I decided to give Darin a break through this section and picked up Eric as my primary pacer. This would be a good section for Eric to pace me on. Eric is coming back from a stress fracture injury in his foot and I knew there wouldn't be a lot of running through here. In fact the guide books I read all said that this was a strenuous 11 mile climb out of Dewey Bridge. I'm happy to report that the guides weren't exaggerating as the climb did in fact climb for; well 9 miles then we had about a half mile break before it climbed up another mile and a half. You just couldn't seem to get away from it. It was always there, in your face.

    It had taken Peter and Stephanie nearly 6 hours to do this 18.5 mile section. When I read that I thought that was ridiculous! As the climb kept coming. I realized it was going to take me about the same time to cover the same distance.

    I knew this was going to be a long section to have to cover without any aide so we thought we'd be smart and have our crew backtrack up the trail from Fischer Valley about 5 miles to meet us with some water around mile 90. At the top of the climb with both Eric and I thinking we only had a couple more miles to cover before we met our crew. I started to get a bad feeling in my gut. Getting a first hand look at the terrain over the other side of the climb. The crew would have to cover to get to us. I can't believe the map was calling this a 4WD road. The gang was gonna need more than a Jeep to get back in here.

    In panic mode now and preparing for yet another rough 5 mile hike in the hot day sun. Eric spared me what water he could and I tried to ration it the best I could. What we had left though wasn't going to make it another 5 miles.

    The decision was made to send Eric up the trail in search of the crew. I would continue on course towards Fischer Valley and hope for the best. I walked alone for about 10 minutes. When I heard Darin yelling out my name. Perfect timing I thought. I felt like I would've dropped at any moment due to heat exhaustion. Darin was a sight for sore eyes as he rounded the corner with a full gallon of water in his hand.

    He exclaimed that he and Eric's wife Janey had been trying to get back into us for a half hour and fully expected to find us layed out on the side of the trail. He said they were trying as fast as they could. Even hitching a ride from a convoy of Rock crawlers out to enjoy the trail! Even that was slow going though. I thought Darin was pulling my crank. Just then I heard the rumble from the engines of said Rock crawlers as they rounded the bend. Pulling over they asked if they had found me O.K.? Darin told them they found me and thanked them for their help.

    Only being able to drive the Jeep a couple of miles back in from Fischer Valley. Before the terrain got to sketchy to drive down. I made it back to the Jeep around mile 93. Completely wiped out. Yet I was still 5 minutes ahead of record pace? Here I really needed to spend some time. I tried to eat some different foods as I was getting sick of PB&J now. Then focused on getting re hydrated.

    Time to get moving. Since we had the opportunity. I told my crew just to drive down into Fischer Valley and I would top off again and take care of some foot issues there as well. We had another long section up to the top of North Beaver Mesa. I wanted to make sure I was going to be up for it.

    Rolling into Fischer Valley I was still two minutes in the good. I couldn't believe it and to tell you truthfully I stopped caring at this point. This trail was kicking my ass, BIGTIME! after all that I had just gone through I was happy to still be conscious. I just kept thinking that sooner or later. I was going to have to pay the piper for wrecking the shit out of my body the way I had all for the sake of a silly record.

    In what was to be my quickest aide stop of the day. I topped off. Took care of my feet and got out of there in just three minutes!!! Darin jumped in to pace me through this next section. "Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss." The climb out of Fischer Valley up to North Beaver Mesa was eerily similar to the one we just came off of. Except now it was hotter and even more exposed. Again we thought we'd try and beat the system by having our crew drive back in from the Bull Draw campground crew point at the top of North Beaver Mesa. This time we were sure they would be able to get to us. Feeling confident we put all our bad luck behind us we pressed on in pursuit of a seemingly endless run.

    I crossed over into triple digit mileage around 21 hours and 45 minutes into my run. Not paying attention to what time of day that would have been. I guess around 2:45 in the afternoon. I was losing all concept of time. Around halfway up the climb I started to get that same bad feeling again. We were nearly 11 miles into this climb and had to start paying attention to our water. It was really hot on the side of that mesa. Trying to stick to what shade there was from the pinion pines along the side of the road. I started to get a little dizzy and my ears were beginning to ring. I had maybe 4 oz. of water left in my bottle.

    We should've seen our crew by now but they were nowhere in sight. Something happened to them we thought. There was nothing wrong with the road we were on. They could easily make it down this in a Jeep. Darin and I started to worry big time. Not only were we in trouble. We worried that something happened to our crew. After about 10 minutes of discussing our situation. The plan was hatched to catch a ride with the next person that came along and pull the plug on the whole thing.

    Another half hour had passed by without a single person coming down the road. Were so "F"ing screwed I told Darin. Then behind us we heard the rumble of a vehicle coming up the road. It was a very nice couple from London on vacation. They stopped and asked if we were O.K. Darin explained the situation as I was too out of it to communicate. They agreed to drive us up the road to the next checkpoint.

    I didn't want to quit! Sure I was in bad shape and wasn't going to be getting any better in the foreseeable future. I still wanted to finish. Sitting in the back of that vehicle. I felt like a piece of crap both physically and mentally and wasted no time beating myself up...

    We drove for a couple of miles up the road. When I heard Darin say " There they are!" Like a mirage out of nowhere. Our crew was pulled over along the side of the road. Ben came running over to the vehicle and Darin and I crawled out of the back. Ben explained that they had got a flat in the Jeep as they were driving back down Onion Creek Rd. coming out of Fischer Valley. With nowhere to pull over down there. They had to drive real slow on the flat until they could get to a spot to change it.

    No worries! We had told him what had happened to us and then I told Ben that I didn't want to quit. I hadn't peed for three hours and my kidneys were really starting to hurt. I just couldn't make my body do what I wanted it to do anymore. Then I crawled into the back of our Jeep.

    I was in the back of the Jeep for about five minutes. Upset with myself and trying hard not to choke on my latest failure. Wondering why the Hell we weren't heading back to camp? Darin was still rambling on about how hard I'd worked just to make it this far. You could sense that he wasn't ready to give up either.

    Their conversations continued for a couple of more minutes. Then it was quite for a second or two. Then I heard Eric say. " Guys! This isn't over if you don't want it to be. The clock is still running. It might be hard for him to get the record at this point but he can still get a finish in. Footsteps approaching the Jeep. I heard my door open up and Ben asking me if I still wanted to finish this thing?

    I wasn't sure at first. On one hand I was relieved I was sitting in the back of the Jeep ready to head back to camp. On the other, I knew how bad I would beat myself up. If I had decided to quit on this run. I took a deep breath holding it in for a second. Fully understanding this would be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I looked at my crew. They said." If you want to do this. Then we're here for you as long as it takes to get you to the finish. That was enough for me. How could I quit now? " Lets get this done already..."

    We all got back in the vehicles and drove them back down the road to where the couple from London picked us up. Before I could get moving again I had to get my kidney's working properly. So we pulled out the lawn chairs and dug in for an extended stay. or at least until I went pee anyway.

    It didn't take as long to get them working as I had thought it would. I drank about a half gallon of water. Ate two ham sandwiches and closed my eyes for about 15 minutes. It felt good to close my eyes. Despite the fact that I couldn't fall asleep. It helped me refocus what little energy I had left. Allowing me to break down just how many miles we had left to cover.

    No more sitting around! I was ready to take a leak. Ben pulled me out of my chair. My legs were totally frozen solid now but I managed to waddle to the other side of the road. As I was peeing. I received a standing ovation from the crew. "Bravo", "Yeah","Who's a good boy?". I had to laugh. Ben filled my bottles. Then I took off down the road. 108 miles down now and just 32 to go.

    Eric jumped in to pace me up to the top of North Beaver Mesa at Bull Draw campground. His wife Janey hopped in their Subaru and was leap frogging ahead every couple miles or so. The rest of the way was pretty much drivable and I'll be damned if they let me run out of water again.

    Eric and I were making back a good amount of the time that we had lost waiting for my Kidney's to get going. Doing the math in my head though. I knew I had to be better than perfect the rest of the way. To even make it close at the end. I was happy just to be moving forward. Any dreams of me doing huge chunks of running from this point on was a pipe dream.

    Oh well! Not today. We'd given it one Hell of a shot. In spite of everything that had happened. There was no sense in killing myself anymore more. My goal had switched to that of moving forward and finishing as strong as I could.

    Eric and I finally made it to Bull Draw campground. I couldn't thank him enough for all he had done for me this day. The time he had spent on his feet. His thinking when the rest of us were too tired and ready to throw in the towel. The list goes on and on.

    At Bull Draw Eric jumped in the car and Janey took over pacing me into the next checkpoint at the bottom of the hill at the corner of La Sal Mountain Loop Rd. and Castle Valley Rd. We were treated to an awesome sunset over Castle Valley on the way down the mesa. More awesome for Janey than it was for me. This was the second sunset I got to witness since being on my feet.

    Trying to take advantage of gravity on the downhill. I thought I'd try and do a little shuffling. No Chance. My running days were over. From here out it was going to be a long walk.

    Darin was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill. One last climbed remained. It was a nasty little climb. With a false summit about halfway up. Which gave you a little break before pushing on to the top of the road. It was the last one and I was happy to be on it.

    Still feeling surprisingly good considering. Traveling in uncharted territory. 119 miles on my feet was a very strange feeling. It didn't feel like I thought it would. I expected excruciating pain and severe cramping. It didn't feel any worse than It did at 93 or 100 or even 108 miles. The hardest thing I was having to deal with was that with each step. I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier. This wasn't something I would be able to walk off. I couldn't eat or drink enough to make this feeling go away.

    The climb up La Sal Mountain Loop Rd. took longer than Darin and I had anticipated. To do it being tired and physically exhausted would've been one thing. The higher and higher we climbed. The harder and harder the wind blew. So hard so that when we rounded a few of the corners it literally stopped us dead in our tracks.

    Eric and Janey followed behind in their Subaru. With their headlights pouring as much light as they could onto the road ahead. During the times when the wind would get to blowing really hard they would pull along side of us. Making sure that we wouldn't be blown off the mountain.

    Somewhere along the way up the mountain I lost Darin. But I picked up Janey again as a pacer. Not exactly sure what happened. One second I was out in front of Darin. Rambling off some incoherent story or thought. The next I looked back and nobody was there? No headlamp. No Darin. No headlights. NO crew??? I was so out of it that I didn't even notice for quite awhile. Oddly though I wasn't bothered by this. I just kept walking towards the goal. After a couple of minutes. Janey appeared beside me and said," Hello Again!" I said," Hey You." and we just continued to walk up the mountain.

    She asked me how I was doing? I told her that I was tired as Hell! I just wanted to get this thing finished. So I could go to sleep for a week! "Soon enough", she said and told me to hang in there.

    We passed the Mason Spring campground sign. Not much longer now I mumbled. We have maybe a half mile or so to the top of the road where we have to turn off and start heading down. It was strange. One moment I would be feeling mentally wiped out. Then in the next. I would pass a landmark. Like a campground or something and my mind would snap out of whatever state of delirium I was in. Allowing me for a brief minute to rattle off a number relating to my pace or to know geographically exactly where the hell I was at that time.

    As quickly as I would remember who the Hell I was and what the Hell I was doing out there. It would fade. Relapsing back to some weird but highly motivated semi zombie like state. Barely alive but far from dead. With every step taking me further and further into the unknown.

    Janey and I finally made it to the top. I could see the cars pulled over on the shoulder of the road where the trail breaks away from the asphalt and begins it's 3,700 ft. plunge into Moab. It was a major relief knowing that I had made it through all the major climbs. For the first time after nearly 31 hours of moving forward. I could say. " It was all downhill from here." I had around 15 miles to go and at the pace I was going I would still have to be on my feet for another 5 hours...

    I walked right on past the crew. Yelling out my intentions to keep moving. Hoping that once again I would pick up the pace and maybe save a little time. As soon as I turned off the asphalt. I realized I had yet more walking ahead of me. I made it a couple hundred yards down the trail and stopped. Deciding it would be in my best interest to wait for my pacer.

    I'm sure the trail down from here wasn't as bad as I was making it out to be in my head. But after 125 miles it might has well have been the famed Hillary's Step of Mt Everest. After a couple of minutes of standing where I had stopped. I picked up the light of Darin's headlamp bouncing down the trail.

    Once there he broke out his handheld flashlight for some added confidence. Then we proceeded to slowly pick our way down the trail towards the Porcupine Rim. We were so tired at this point. Awake for nearly 44 hours. Every time we came to an intersection in the trail. No matter how little it would be. We would waste several minutes checking and double checking our course. Always doubting our decisions. Until we reassured ourselves every time we would pass a Kokopelli Trail marker every so often.

    Successfully navigating the Porcupine Rim. We popped out onto the Sand flats Rd. Smooth sailing from here on. One foot in front of the other. We're getting this thing done. " Holy Shit!" This is actually going to happen. What could go wrong now? We got this Darin! Completely O.K. with having no shot at the record. I proceeded to put it on autopilot and cruise it in.

    What journey run would be complete without having experiencing some form of hallucinations? In a first ever for me with 8 miles to go. I had wicked little hallucination. Darin had been running in front of me for some time. The whole way I was just trying to focus on the back of his heels. As they shuffled down the sandy road. I'm not sure when it really began to happen. Or if it all just came on at once. For whatever reason I started to notice these little sparkling eyes on the road around Darin's feet. I knew this place was crawling with tarantulas. I had seen several along the side of the trail running through the first night across the Cisco Desert section. So I just assumed it was more spiders. After a half mile or so a couple of sets of eyes turned into several sets. It kept going on like this for awhile. I tried to pay it no attention. I wouldn't bother them if they didn't bother me. Then it happened. I almost couldn't believe it at first. One of those little bastards jumped on my "F"-ing leg and just tried to bite me! I freaked out! Screaming out " Get the F! off of me you little mother "F"er. As loud as I could.

    Darin turned around and ran back to me to see what the Hell I was getting so bent out of shape over? I told him I don't know where it went but that an "F"-ing tarantula just jumped on me and tried to bite me! Darin didn't see it and I couldn't find it? " Well I don't know where the Hell he went Darin?" I'm just telling you what I saw.

    Darin just said. " Dave buddy I think your seeing things!" Whatever man. I know what I seen. Lets just keep moving. "F-ing " spiders!!!

    Half mile more down the road...What the "F"? Oh you little S.O.B's are back for more huh? Darin! I know you gotta be seeing this! There all over the place! Look at them! There everywhere! Where the Hell are they all coming from? Get them the Hell away from me!!!

    Darin once again stopped and came running back to me. This time he was Hell bent on finding these things. Hunched over shining his headlamp and handheld all over the road around me he couldn't find a single one of them. "What!" You gotta be shitting me! You don't see that spider right there? As I pointed to this black splotch on the road. "Where?" Right there Damn it! Don't you see it? " What; you mean this?" Yeah that! That right there. Isn't that a tarantula?

    Darin just started busting out laughing hysterically. I said what the Hell are you laughing at? "Dave you ARE hallucinating!" Well, what the Hell is it then? Dave those are drops of water from my water bottle. What? Yeah I must not have got the top on my bottle pushed down all the way Darin said. What you're seeing. Is the water drops splash when they hit the ground.

    I was quite for a minute. standing there with a confused look. Waiting for my brain to catch up with what the Hell It was just told. Then I laughed and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Darin and I stood there for a minute just laughing our asses off about the whole scene that just played out.

    What I was seeing was those drops of water in my headlamp. Just before they hit the ground. My headlamp would reflect off the droplets which gave it the appearance of spider eyes. When my eyes would catch up to what I was seeing as I ran over the area where I seen the eyes. Was nothing more than a dark wet spot on the ground. Which to me at the time looked like black spiders. Geezus! His bottle must have been leaking pretty bad because at one point I thought the whole damn road was covered with them little bastards! Oh yeah. The spider that jumped on my leg and tried to bite me. Well that just turned out to be an old dry leaf blowing across the road hitting me in the leg.

    We laughed about that for awhile which got us a little further down the road and closer to our goal. It was quite an experience. I now feel more complete as an ultra runner. Knowing I too have a hallucination story to talk about.

    A mile to go! Darin pointed out that we just passed the spot where our camp was. Which was exactly one mile up the road from the finish at the Slickrock Trailhead parking lot. Rounding the last couple of bends the parking lot came into sight. We could see the orange glow from the streetlights and our crew vehicles parked underneath them. This was it! This was the end of the road. Literally!

    All the things I thought I would be feeling as I got closer and closer. Never even surfaced. Finishing in a time of 35:56:19 for the second fastest known time. I was happy to be done. I was and still am very grateful for my crew. For bending over backwards. Going out of their ways to get me to the end. ALIVE! I can never repay them enough for that.

    My only concern at the time was getting back to camp. Crawling under a warm blanket and PASSING OUT! Being the top notch crew they were. They obliged me one last time. Dragging my sorry broken down smelly ass back to my tent. After they unzipped the door on my tent they asked me what I wanted. "Just throw me in and take my shoes off please." My head hit the pillow and I was gone.

    It's been five weeks now since I finished. It's taken me forever to get this thing all down on paper. Then trying to find the time to get it on here. So I've had a lot of time to think about it. Will there be a next time? What advice I would give to others attempting to try this? What would I have done differently if getting another chance?

    All I can say is this. Without a doubt I will be back. I am going to attempt this again. I will learn from my mistakes. Believe me I made quite a few of them. And hopefully things will turn out a little better next time around. This was the most awesome run I have EVER done in my life. Thank you to everyone who helped me make this possible. Thanks Jessica for giving me the green light. Thank you Darin and Ben for being my wingmen on this crazy adventure. Thank you Eric and Janey for selflessly pacing and crewing. Ultimately saving the whole run at mile 108. Thank you Salomon, Rudy Project and Suunto for all your support.

Freestate 3 Peat, So Sweet!

2011-05-01T12:21:00.004-06:00

Well What can I say about the Freestate 40 miler that I haven't already said in the previous two years? Nothing really. I think my buddy Darin summed it up best. When he said that both he and I had been training pretty hard for this race and that we both had planned on taking the double here. With him winning the A-Main 100km event and me the B-Main 40 miler.

We both had been getting faster and faster with each training run and had a real good idea of what we thought we could do if given the right conditions.

    When race day arrived. It was the most perfect race conditions that anyone could've predicted for this race. Normally it's muddier than Hell. Not this year.

    I knew the course was a little short. It always has been. I also knew with these conditions. That there was No Way! The course record for the 40 miler was going to remain intact after I crossed the line. And, since Darin shares the same brain with me. He was just as fired up about the prospect of doing the same in the 100km.

    As luck would have it there would be NO breaking of the old course records this day in either race. As Bad Ben Holmes decided to make a route change due to the erosion issues they've been battling on the section of the course affectionately known as the muddy mile. This route change cut off about two miles of the old course. So to correct what would be obviously a very short 40 miler he made up the distance on the backside of the trail system. With the lightly used Cactus Ridge section. In doing this he added back roughly four miles. Which now made the course more true to what is advertised.

    The course change was cool and I was totally O.K. with it. Darin and I actually caught wind of the route change a couple of days before the race because both his and my wife were working aide stations. We knew the course had been changed but Ben didn't let the cat outta the bag until just before the start. Once we heard where we were going I turned to Darin and said. "Oh Well! So much for the course record."

    The start was given and we set off in search of what was now almost seemingly impossible to attain. I felt like I was in good enough shape to chisel 7 to 8 minutes off the old course record but now with the two extra miles. I would have to run like I've never run before. Instead of trying to kill myself though I just stuck to my game plan of 7:45's to 8's on the first loop. Then drop down a minute slower per mile on the second loop.

That first loop felt really good. I was still stinging a little from my less than desirable finish at the 50 Mile National Championships 7 weeks earlier. So I was super tempted to just go "Hell Bent for Leather", on this first loop. I knew if I did that there would be the possibility I would crash and burn on the second one. So stick to my game plan I did.

I came in on that first loop with a 2:37 split. Averaging about 7:51's per mile feeling relaxed and comfortable. Looked at Ben I assured him that the course was pretty close to 20 miles. At the pace I was running. I would have hit that first loop in the 2:25 range on the old course. Anyway no matter. Gotta keep moving. I wasn't concerned about anybody catching me. That sounds pretty cocky I know. But I wasn't racing anybody that day. What I mean to say is that it didn't matter to me who was in the race. I was running my race today. I knew in my head what I needed to do. I felt like if I could do what I wanted to and got beat! Then it was gonna take a breakout performance by somebody to do it.

Back out on the second loop and dialed in. I knew I could relax through the Cactus Ridge section. Darin and I did all our training on the old course. As you all already know by now. This is like the fourth time I've mentioned my "F-ing" BFF! But for some reason when I told myself I could relax. My brain thought that meant that it could relax too and it started to wander on me. We all know what happens next. Yup! BAM!!! Right to the deck I went. I don't know what the hell has been wrong with me lately but almost every time I run I take a damn fall?

Lying on the dirt I thought to myself O.K. Ass hat quit jerking around and get going. I got up brushed off and did a quick scan for any carnage. Nope I'm good. Now what? I thought how am I going to keep myself entertained for the next 18 miles? So like always I started playing songs in my head. I don't carry an IPOD with me in training or racing. So the song usually ends up being whatever song has been stuck in my head for a few days before the race. Thank God for me it wasn't something stupid like the freakin Macarena! Actually it was a pretty cool little jam called "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People. A catchy tune that kept the leg turnover pretty rhythmic.

Nothing much else happened the rest of the race. After 2 hours and 45 minutes of the same song replaying in my head. I managed to stay on my feet. Out of trouble with no real issues. It's pretty funny you know? How just 7 weeks earlier you can have one of the worst races you've ever run. Then Presto Change-O! You show up ready to lay one down? I never have been able to figure that out. Maybe that's the whole problem. That theres nothing too figure out. You have good races and bad ones and it's not up to you to decide when that is. You should be thankful for the good ones but even more thankful for the bad ones. Because it's those bad races that make you appreciate the good days even more.

I crossed the finish line this year in a time of 5:43:01. Establishing a new course record for the now accurate 40 mile distance. Only missing the old course record by 10 and a half minutes for two extra miles of running. Smiling with three fingers raised on my right hand. Indicating that the Three Peat was complete.

When I signed up this year. Ben asked me if I wanted to own this race? I said you bet. The truth though is that when I signed up it was more of an afterthought. I really didn't know what kind of shape I'd be in. I didn't know who would show up and run it?

I don't think it is so much a matter of wanting to own this race. More so rather it's becoming sort of a comfort zone for me. Like Mom's mashed potatoes or the feeling you get coming home after you've been away for awhile.

No matter how bad a race I just had. Or how lousy a job I did. Trying to live up to my own impossible standards. I know I can always come home to the Freestate 40 miler and get my shit back on track.

The very first time I ran this race back in 2008. I didn't really care much for the course. I thought there were too many roller coaster up and downs. I didn't like the multiple loop format. It was too muddy! Over the years though it has grown on me. Like the way the dorky little neighbor kid that hangs out with your kid grows on you. At first you think whats wrong with this damn kid? Then over the days, months, years...You start to think that kid ain't so bad. Til one day. You just look at them like there one of your own.

So this brings us to the million dollar question. Will I come back again next year? Is there a possible Four Peat in the works and if there is. Then what? Five? Six? Try and be like Lance and go for Seven? I don't know. It'll all depend on how I feel and what kinda shape I'm in at the time a month before I guess. For me to try to think about anything further out then the next race is crazy. Besides I want to take a shot at the 100km before I start to slow down.

Which on that point. I have to give some serious props to the real man of the hour. Not long after I finished my race. Darin came in from his second loop like somebody hat doused him in kerosene and lit his ass on fire! He then went on to not only win his race but he did so in record time. He was so damn fast! That he broke the old course record by a handful of minutes and he had to run three extra miles!!! Simply Amazing!

As always in all ways. I have to give a huge thanks to the folks at Salomon for being gracious enough to outfit me with the best trail running gear on the planet! And for seeing something in me that I don't always see in myself. I also want to thank My good friend Ben Holmes on another superbly run race. As well as all the great volunteers for their dedication and hard work with everything they do.

Next up for me is my attempt at breaking the speed record out on the Kokopelli Trail in Colorado and Utah on May 27th. Not sure if a 142 mile trek across the desert is a good idea right now. I have a respectful fear for this whole thing. As anyone should. I been training my ass off. Averaging 130 miles a week for the last four weeks and have about two and a half more to go before I start my tapper. The confidence is there for sure but anything can happen when you get out there. I can go into a whole bunch of details about a whole bunch of things. Right now though it's going to have to wait for a different post.

USATF 50 Mile Trail National Championships at Nueces 50 Miler

2011-03-16T02:00:00.013-06:00

Anymore I dread writing race reports. There was one point in time in which I loved too. Nowadays I find myself getting easily frustrated trying to match the right words with the emotions I was feeling at that time.

I want to tell you all a tale of triumph and comeback but I just don't have it in me to get excited about a 9Th Place finish. Even if it was at the National Championships. So instead I've decided to just sort of lay it out there in chronological order.

I guess you can say that my journey towards last Saturday began on December 27Th, 2010. When at Cabela's shopping with the family I injured my back picking up my daughter to look at the fish in their aquarium.

January 5Th, 2011 I had received word from the doctors that my X-Rays were negative and that I could resume light training but to stop at the first sign of pain.

Later that day after about a half hour of working out on the elliptical trainer. I signed up for the USATF 50 Mile Trail National Championships at the Nueces 50 miler in Rocksprings, Tx. "What the Hell was I Thinking?"

10 days later on January 15Th I completed my first full week of training since the injury. I finished with 72 total miles. Of which only 20 miles of it was running. The rest was a combination of the elliptical trainer and walking on the treadmill.

February 19Th. Man! That was a long six weeks. They went great too. Though I was pretty hard on my injury. My body seemed to be responding to the workload. I even managed to get a 50km training run on the trail done in 3:53:56. Not super fast but solid and I was happy with it.

The next two weeks I spent the time tapering and trying to dig up as much info about the competition as I could. The more I dug the more my stock on finishing well went down. After doing all the assigned homework. I had a fairly reasonable idea of where I was going to finish.

Realizing that I didn't have a snowballs chance in Ecuador of making a podium. Unless by some sick twist of fate everyone that I picked to finish ahead of me. All suddenly fell violently ill due to food poisoning. I was most likely walking into a major ass whoopin. I was O.K. with that. It was what I wanted. If for no other reason than to make myself a better runner. Sometimes you gotta get knocked down. Before you can understand what it takes to make yourself better.

Figuring if everyone had their typical day. I could do no worse than 8Th place in the Championship. At the same time I was aware that I could place as high as 5Th if someone ahead of me had a bad day. Or as low as 11Th if I had a bad day. Basically, I knew that at the end of the day no matter what the outcome. I would be enjoying a nice slice of humble pie with my customary ice cold beer. Yum, Yum...

The day before the race was anything but calm and relaxing. A few weeks earlier my buddy Darin Schneidwinde. Agreed to crew for me. He has been suffering from a nagging overuse injury and he figured if he couldn't race than he at least wanted to help out anyway he could.

Friday morning we were on the road at 5:00 A.M. and heading for Texas. Both happy to be escaping the piss poor weather conditions we were getting here in Kansas. That was a long drive but worth it. 13 hours later we arrived at Camp Eagle to sunny skies and 78 degree temperatures. I checked in and grabbed my packet. Then Darin and I headed over to the camping area to set up our tents just before sunset.

Exhausted from the drive down we had got our tents up and settled in for the night around 9:00 P.M. Saturday morning I awoke to a tapping sound on the outside of my tent. The tapping was from rain. I opened my eyes just in time to catch a flash of lightening from a thunderstorm that had rolled into the area overnight. The next thing I remember was being attacked by my tent. The wind was blowing so hard that it had collapsed the poles on my tent and snapped one of the poles on Darin's tent. I just yelled out "You Have Got to be Kidding Me." I wasn't even about to fight with it. So I just lay there and let those West Texas winds do their thing until around 4:30 A.M. When I decided to fix up my tent enough to get ready for the long day ahead.

We got the car loaded up and let the tents just lay there on the ground. Drove over to the start and got checked in. Then proceeded to wait for the countdown. Waiting there I became really nervous. All the crap I had been dealing with up to this point decided to surface and knot itself up in my stomach.

5 minutes to start! I wandered over to toe the start line and just like in my last race I knew I wasn't the top dog here. So I gave respect where respect was due. Deciding to line up one row back from the front.

The command to start was given. Setting out from the pavilion under the cover of darkness. Like he was shot out of a cannon. David James (2nd Place at the USATF 100km National Championships) took off from the front of the pack. I decided to hang off the back of the chase pack in around 7th to 8th place. A very capable group that contained the likes of Jason Schlarb (5th at The North Face 50 mile Championships last December.) Jason Bryant (3rd place USATF 100km National Championships.) Steve Moore (2nd Place at Zane Grey Highline Trail 50 miler 2009.) Jack Pilla (10th Place at JFK 50 miler 2010 in a time of 6:29.) and last but certainly not least Liza Howard. who in my opinion with her win at the USATF 100km Trail Championships in January followed with a successful defense of her title at the RR 100 miler. Now adding a win here at the USATF 50 mile Trail Championships is well on her way to earning the women's Ultrarunner of the Year award. I was in good company and right where I wanted to be.

The pace was pretty conversational. It was still dark out and with the amount of rocks on the course nobody was really getting crazy. Our little group stayed intact for the most part. With the exception of Jason Schlarb. Who decided to fly the coupe around the 4 mile mark setting out to reel David James in.

Then around 12-13 miles in I started to notice that my sock choice for the day was going to give me some problems. I tried to ignore it but the sock on my left foot. Kept slipping off my heal and underneath my arch. Not wanting this to turn into something that would turn into a DNF later in the day. I had no choice but to stop and fix the issue.

Once I stopped to fix the problem I lost contact with the group. I tried like hell to catch back on and every time I'd almost get back. My sock would slip off my heal. After about the third time jacking around with my damn sock. I decided to just focus on even pacing until I got back to the Pavilion. Then I could make a sock change and hopefully correct the problem.

After I got the socks taken care of at the Pavilion. I set out on the second of three loops for this race. I figure I had dropped to 10 place at this point and the group I was trying to get back up to was 12 minutes ahead. I decided to stick with a steady effort. Hoping that a few of the guys in the front group would blow up. But they never did. They all ran really solid races. My race on the other hand was starting to resemble someone who was trying to run in quicksand. The harder I tried the more it went downhill.

There was a high moment for me during the second loop when I actually thought I was making some sort of progress. I eventually caught back up to Liza Howard who had just crested the hill I was about halfway up. I saw her make a turn to the right and wasn't worried about not being able to catch back up. So I put my head down and just focused on my cadence up the hill. What I failed to focus on though was the fork in the road that was supposed to lead me down the right trail. Apparently neither did Liza and a few other runners.

The wind had been gusting pretty hard all day and at some point during the race it had blown down a very important trail marker around the 10 mile point of the loop. It wasn't til I noticed passing a landmark on the trail for the second time on that loop that I realized I was off course. The problem was that I continued to run down the wrong trail for 8 minutes before I actually convinced my self I was off course.

I met up with Liza on the trail who had also realized she was off route and we started to look for where we got off course at. Luckily for us we didn't have to look for long. At that moment Joe the RD came rolling up in in an ATV and asked us if we were OK. We said that we thought we were lost and didn't know where we got off. He drove up the road a bit and found the sign that had been blown over and got us headed back in the right direction.

Back on course now Liza and I pretty much ran the rest of the loop either together or leap frogging back and fourth. She was really strong on the uphills and I was stronger on the descents. We always seemed to have something to talk about and even joked about how at the beginning of the race she was worried about me because I was ahead of her and all she noticed was my ponytail. She was worried because I wasn't talking and she thought I might have been another female runner. I couldn't stop laughing for awhile about that one. I played along and at one point we tried to figure out a way to convince race direction I was a female then I could take home some money from the Championships. That was fun while it lasted. Liza is a super nice person. Who really does love this sport.

Eventually though due to my own stupidity it came to an end. From all the issues with the socks, getting lost and conversation. I wasn't paying very good attention to my calories and fluids. I was starting to show some beginning signs of dehydration. So at the aide station with two miles to go before I hit the Pavilion at the start. I stopped for about 5 minutes. I knew I was never going to catch back up to the front of the race and the only way I was going to move up. Was if the other guys started to pay for their efforts from earlier. I ate a PB&J and chugged a bottle of water. Then had my bottle filled. Grabbed a handful of M&M's and set off for the Pavilion.

Once I got back to the Pavilion. I really wasn't in the mood to head back out and start another loop. I was bonking and in bad shape. On the way down though I told my buddy Darin. That no matter how bad it got. Or how bad I was getting my ass kicked I was going to finish this race. So with much reluctance. I stayed true to my word and set out on that third loop.

It wasn't about pacing anymore or effort or strategy. It was just about putting one foot in front of the other. However many times it took to cross the finish line. Hell I was still in 8th place at this point. That certainly wasn't a reason to be throwing in the towel. The other reason was. That no matter where I finished and how that would feel. It would never compare to how bad I'd feel on the ride back home and the weeks and months after the raceif I had quit.

With about 6 miles to go another runner came into the aide station the same time I did and left before me. I looked at him and he looked at me. Nothing was said but I could tell that he knew I had nothing left in me.

Eventually I made it back to the Pavilion. Crossing the finishline in 9th Place O/A in my first experience with a National Championship race. Kind of an anticlimactic way to end a race report. Certainly not the way I had planned or envisioned it going down. So it was with a handshake a metal and an ice cold cup of Coke that my race ended.

Will I do the race again next year? I'm not sure. I'd like to. Right now I wish I could take a Mulligan on this one and do it all over again as soon as my legs recover. I know I can do a lot better than what I did. With so many races out there. It really is hard to commit to the same event year after year.

All that said now and put behind me. I feel like I can move forward with the rest of the year. A lot of things were against me from the very day I signed up. So inspite of everything not materializing the way I thought it would. I am still happy for getting the chance to experience and take it all in. It's not everyday that an 'Ol boy from the middle of the USA has a chance to get to do something like that. I'm satisfied for now.

Everything about this race was great. Friendly people and volunteers. Well organized. Tough, challenging course. with a deep field of competitors and class acts. It has the making of being a Classic Ultra. Nice work Joe! and all those involved...Thanks for a great weekend.

Bass Pro Shops Dogwood Canyon 50km.

2010-11-09T11:57:00.000-06:00

   Coming into this race I had no real expectations of doing anything more than just running the goal time of a 4:20 I had planned. After talking with several friends and competitors who had run this race before. The past couple of years that it has been put on. I came to the conclusion that it was going to be a very tough albeit beautiful course. I had been feeling pretty tired over the past couple of months. A combination of too much training and racing this summer. So I really wanted to end the year on a positive note. If I could run what I thought I could and manage to have a good time in the process. I would consider that a success going into the off season.

   I'd raced down in this part of the Midwest several times over the last few years. Putting many a racing mile under my feet in the Ozark and Ouachita Mountains of Missouri and Arkansas. So this time around I had a real good mental image in my head of what to expect as far as terrain went. Doing the appropriate training required to get myself dialed in for the goal time I needed to hit.

   As race day approached. I didn't really talk to too many people. Most of my friends were finishing up their seasons at one race or another and catching up on some overdue family time. Which was totally cool. As it gave me time to be able to focus on what I had ahead of me without distraction. I had a lot to focus on too.

   Since my little hiccup in the month of May where in a 50 miler. We had our first really hot day here. So hot so that The HEAT ended up beating me into submission. Forcing me to settle for the Marathon finish. From that day forward until Halloween weekend I hadn't lost a race. A pretty damn good little streak. I'd like to sit here and tell you that I never really gave it much thought. The truth though was that I thought about it constantly. With every race I won. Whether by physical domination or the lack of competition or Lady Luck, Whatever! I ended up placing a little more pressure on my shoulders to try and keep the streak going. To see how long I could milk this ride out. In an attempt to turn the odds in my favor going into each race. I really trained my tail into the ground. Probably a little too much.

   Combined with the heat of the sweltering summers we have here. I managed to put up some less than impressive times. Even though I took home the wins. I was fueled by the fact that under normal conditions I could go much faster. I knew that and that drove me crazy. Having to wait out the summer heat. Running for place instead of PR's. I've always said It never mattered what place I got as long as it was a personal best. I'd rather run a PR and finish twentieth than to win with a time I considered a training run effort.

    So when it finally came time for me to sign up for the Dogwood 50km. I had a pretty big decision to make. Do I race for time? Or do I race for place? Or do I just race for fun? The conditions were projected to be the best I'd raced in all season but the course would be a real S.O.B. at least for what I was used to anyway. Eventually I decided on taking it easy and enjoying a race for a change. To reflect back on the season I had and enjoy some trails with some great folks.

   Racing has always been something that has been truly between the ears with me. More times than I can count. I've psyched myself out of great runs despite being in great shape. Letting the garbage in my head get in the way of a win or two over the years. For years I've asked myself the question. Why do I have such an extreme desire to race? Why do I find it necessary to get out there and mix it up with men 10 now 15 years younger than me. I don't have anything left to prove anymore? To myself or anyone. The answer to that question finally became clear to me the Saturday before the race.

   When Adam Chase. Good friend and our Salomon Team Captain. Made a comment in reference to a Facebook post of mine. Saying that," His money was on me. Guts or not, I was a pure racer and that is what gets me across the finish line first! Isn't it?" Bam! Right there just like that it all became clear to me. Years of trying to figure out what made me tick. Why I had such a competitive nature. It wasn't because I was running from something or that I had a chip on my shoulder because or that I felt like I had something to prove. It was simply because it 's ingrained into my DNA.

   Like a thoroughbred or a greyhound I just love to run. I'd be doing this whether there was a competitive outlet for it or not. Thank the Lord there is though. Because I LIVE for racing. It's what gets me out of bed in the morning. Back aching, legs a hurtin. It's what motivates me to train all those miles and circle dates on the calendar. God do I love that feeling you get standing on the starting line just seconds before the gun goes off. For me there's nothing else that compares.

   After really giving what Adam said some thought. I was super pumped up for Sunday morning. Win, lose or draw. I was going to somehow find a way to make it a race to the very end. With my newly discovered knowledge of self I was ready to take on all comers. It didn't matter who showed up.

   Now I'm not saying that I was going to Beat everyone that showed up. I'm just saying that no matter who showed up. I was going to take whatever fight I had in me to them and not be intimidated. To race as a pure racer would race. Giving it all I had from start to finish and not leave anything out there.

   That night at packet pickup I ran into last years Champion and friend Tom Brennan who I hadn't seen in a couple of years. We asked each other how each had been? Talked about the course and what to expect the next morning. He had told me he had been having some issues with sciatica and that he wasn't sure how the race was going to go for him. I knew though that even a Tom at 80 percent was still going to put up a pretty solid performance. I told him my plan of a 4:20 and suggested that maybe we could work together for the first half of the race. It was starting to get dark out though and my wife and I still hadn't had dinner yet. So I said goodbye to Tom and Jessica and I headed back to town to grab a bite to eat before heading back to the hotel.

   Race morning came and after getting a pretty good nights sleep I was up before the alarm went off. I went through my race morning ritual where I talk to my shoes and tell them what I expect from them for the day. Though having a long season under their soles the reluctantly agreed to give me everything they had left in them. With that out of the way I loaded up the best minivan money can buy and we started heading south to the start of the race.

   We arrived to the start of the race to an amazing set up. It really was quite a production for such a relatively young event. I guess when you got that corporate money in your corner though anything is possible. I thought we had got there pretty early. Instead though the parking lot attendants ended up guiding us to a parking spot somewhere out on the back forty. After doing some last minute gear checks and throwing together a small bag of stuff I might need at the crew stop. We walked over to the pavilion at the starting line.

   By the time we walked the quarter mile to the pavilion there were already hundreds of runners milling around the start. Doing last minute checks, number pinning and last minute bathroom stops. I followed suit and made one last pit stop. Then proceeded to pin my number.

   I caught up again with Tom Brennan just before the start and both he and I started doing the 'ol checking out the competition routine. Since there wasn't an entrants list this was the only chance I had to get it in. Scoping out the crowd. Looking to see if there was anybody that we should be worried about. It didn't take long to figure out we were going to have a dogfight on our hands. About that time. Two long legged Kenyans made there way up to the front of the pack alongside Tom and I. Also up front with us was about a half dozen strapping young bucks who all looked as if they were All-American collegiate runners that could rip off a 2:20 marathon without a moments hesitation.

   I looked at Tom and said. Well, that's a relief. He laughed and said yeah! He didn't really want to run that hard anyway. I may have been born with pure racing DNA but I was pretty sure that I wasn't born with pure Kenyan DNA. At that point I came to the realization that there was around a 99 percent chance that my streak would end today. I reassured myself that running today wasn't about winning for me. It was about hitting a goal and having a good time. Enjoying a beautiful day on the trails. If I hit my time and it was good enough to keep me in the hunt then great. AWESOME! It would just be an added bonus.

   As the Kenyans were getting themselves into their zone. By starring down the road with that empty glassy eyed focus. The All-Americans were slapping each other five and cracking jokes. Like it was just another day at practice. I found myself somewhere in the middle. Focused on what lied ahead but still loose enough to be able to joke about the fact that I was extremely relieved to not have to try and stay with the big dogs up front.

   All of a sudden I snapped out of it to find that the Race Director was nearly halfway through his countdown. Then the air horn was sounded. We were off. It was mass chaos from the start. I nearly got tripped up right at the gun because the guy behind me was too wrapped up with excitement and stepped on the back of my left heel. Some 300 hundred runners both 25km and 50km combined scrambling down the road to secure a position in the pack they thought they could maintain.

   It was hard for me to resist the urge to shoot up to the front from the start but somehow I managed. Instead slotting myself a lot further back than I normally do somewhere in the top 20 or so. Knowing that a few of these runners were in the 25km and a few more wouldn't be able to maintain this pace for more then a mile or two at best. I was confident that things would be pretty much sorted out after the first hill. Then it would become a matter of picking off as many runners ahead of me as I could over the course of the next 29 miles.

   Like I figured. I didn't have to wait long. The pack hit that first hill and it was like watching a car run into a brick wall. With the exception of the top five runners. The entire field came to a virtual stand still. Immediately breaking down into a power hike. Right then I jumped up to around the top 10 passing quite a few people that were shocked at how steep the hill was. It was steep but not that long. So as it started to level off at the top I picked it up a little and passed a couple more before we made it over the other side.

   On the descent now. There were a few runners with me. With the top five already being out of sight I decided I was going to hang back with these folks until the first aide station. I started to get a little concerned though. I felt like they were a little out of their comfort zone and that each step they took was forced into place by will. Instead of them trying to find the clean line and go with the flow. I gave them plenty of room to make a mistake but decided it was in my best interest to try and separate from them a little and run by myself. So by the time I reached the bottom of the hill. I found myself with a clear trail ahead of me and a good cushion behind me.

   It didn't take long to make it to the first aide station around mile five-ish. Where they told me I was in 6Th place. Cool I thought and asked how far up the leaders were? Totally expecting them to say something like 10 minutes. I was shocked when they told me I was only three minutes behind the lead with the 5Th place guy only a minute ahead of me.I topped off my bottle and gave my thanks then got out of there.

   What the Hell was going on up there? How in the Hell could I be that close? I didn't feel like I was running all that hard of a pace. I didn't even feel like I was working that hard. Then I started to wonder if all that speed work I did was paying off. Well no need to get too carried away I guess. I'll just keep running like this. Checking the gap at every aide station. When it got out to around 10 minutes then I would start to panic a bit but not right now.

   This was such a beautiful course. It really was. It's been awhile since I've gotten to enjoy the scenery in one of these things. I never cursed a single hill the entire race. I was actually looking forward to each one. Eager to get to the top of the climb. Knowing that the view from the top would reveal a spectacular view of the surrounding Ozarks. It seemed as if every hill had a clearing or meadow at the top strategically placed there for that reason alone.

   I was pretty much in Candyland at this point. Here I was having a great time. At the same time churning out a really solid run. A very rare thing for me. Coming off a pretty steep hill I hit the aide station at mile 10. From here we had to run on a two mile section of asphalt road they had through the center of the park. That they used for their guided trolley tours. At the aide station I decided I'd check the gap. Fully expecting to hear that at this point the gap would be around 10 minutes for sure. Again I was dumbfounded to find it had only stretched out to four minutes up to the lead. Not only was it just four minutes. The pack was starting to split up and lose it's steam. That was cool but I had a feeling that with this section of asphalt the true roadies would stretch their legs and do some damage to the rest of the field. If I wanted to keep from being embarrassed at the finish line. Then I'd have to stretch mine out as well.

   I'm not sure what extra-terrestrial life forms stole my body and replaced it with a newer faster one the night before. For some reason though I had no trouble with asking my legs to give me more. I didn't even notice the extra effort I was putting out. Largely in part to the fact that on this section of road. Every hundred yards there was one amazing waterfall after another. I guess that's why they decided to pave this section of the park. Unfortunately it all ended too quickly. It was time to once again scramble up another steep hill. At the top was a short out and back that everyone had to do. Then there was also a big loop that the 50km runners had to do before retracing their steps back to the finish line.

   At the top of this hill is where the race all went to crap for the front runners. I'm not really quite sure what happened? All day long to this point I had no trouble following the course markings and all the corner marshall's they had out there seemed to know what they were doing. I mean I got to every aide station O.K. without getting lost so they had to know what they were doing right? My suspicion is that those guys up front were just running way too hard with their heads down. After running a 1:47 through the first 25km. The Kenyan claimed he was having some back pain and dropped from the race. I found out that the other Kenyan was running the 25km only and after running his short out and back he was well on his way to finishing his race. Which now left me in Fourth place. With the guy in Third less than a minute ahead and fading.
   After my short out and back the volunteers got me headed out on my big loop before retracing my steps back to the finish. Which is why during the big loop. I found it weird that two of the guys that were out front. Were coming back towards me? It was supposed to be a loop right? Something didn't feel right to me. Not so much for myself but for those guys. I was 100 percent sure I had run the course the exact same way it was layed out. Those guys on the other hand. Well, I had no idea where they had been running. Oh well. I was going the right way and I wasn't going to worry about it too much. I just kept running.

   I finished up my big loop a grabbed a cup of coke and topped off my bottle before heading back down the hill to the asphalt road section. 18 miles behind me at this point and I still felt pretty damn awesome. I flew down the hill. Just letting gravity do it's job. I hit the road section and still didn't see the guy that was only a minute or so ahead of me. He must have been just getting around each corner before I could catch site of him. The pace up the road this time wasn't as fast as the pace down before. Definitely a bit more labored. I ran pretty much the whole damn way back to the aide station. Except for a brief stop to pick my baggie of S-Caps off the ground that I had dropped. Just as I was coming into the aide station at mile 20. I finally saw the kid that had been ducking me for the last 18 miles. He was walking out as I was just getting there. Another quick top off for me and I scurried up the hill to catch up to the kid. He wasn't getting out of my sight again. If he was going to walk then so would I. If he would run then I'd stay right on his heels.

   I asked if he wanted to work together to try and reel in the guys up front. I told him the last 11 miles would go by a lot quicker if we worked together and paced each other. He said that would be cool but that he was having some blood sugar issues. He had told me that this was his first Ultra and that he didn't expect to be crashing like this until mile 25 or so. I asked him what he had been eating? One gel he said. I tried my best not to read him the Riot Act. Being that this was his first one. I remembered all the damn mistakes I made on my first one. I just told him that he just needed to do a better job of taking in calories on the next one. He was in a bad spot and didn't look like he was going to be running anytime soon. Me though I was ready to take off. So I told the kid I'd see him at the finish and I shot up the trail and out of sight.

   OK. So I'm cruising along and I'm passing by 25km and 50km runners that were still outbound and hadn't made it to the road section yet. They all seemed really enthusiastic towards me. Too enthusiastic for someone who was in Third place. Making it to the bottom of another hill and back onto the road for just a brief moment where they had a crew access point. I met my wife there. She asked if I needed anything. I grabbed a gel and gave her my arm warmers. As I started to leave I noticed the RD was there also. He came up to me as I was trying to leave and asked me a few questions. If I had passed anybody? If I was sure I ran the entire course? Which was kind of weird I thought. He then told me that he was asking because I was in First place! What? How the Hell could that be. After verifying with him that I indeed ran everything the way it was supposed to be. I told them I'd better get going then.

   Holy Shit! I guess I was now the man to beat with eight miles to go to the finish. I wasn't sure how lost the two leaders got and I wasn't about to waste anymore time trying to figure it out either. Or whether they would be disqualified or not. All I knew was if they did get straightened out. Then they would be hot on my heels breathing down my neck for the rest of the race.

   Well I guess they didn't get too lost. Just enough to make a race out of it. With seven miles to go. I heard the infamous twig snap of death. I knew instantly that it wasn't a damn squirrel. I didn't even look back. I just asked out loud where the Hell did you guys go? He said that for some reason they made them run an extra short out and back section. Which was about a half a mile in length. That made sense. Seeing as at the last check they were about four to five minutes ahead of me. We chatted for a minute or two but then he eventually pulled away from me but not out of sight?

   A couple more minutes went by when I heard the second branch snap behind me. This kids name was Kyle. Unlike the first guy that caught back up. Kyle didn't seem as determined to getting back up to the front. Which was actually good for me. He was still running good. I knew I could work with this guy to help keep me close. We ran together for about 10km. We came into the last aide station together and they told us that the leader was only 30 seconds ahead of us!

   Alright I thought. This has got to be some kind of joke. There is no way in Gods green earth after 4,600 ft. of vertical gain and 27 miles of running that I'm still on pace for a 4:10 50km. I told Kyle to catch up to that guy and then put it on him at the finish line. He said he was going to try and do just that.

    As we both came to the first of a dozen water crossings we had to run through before the finish. Kyle's adrenaline must have been flowing pretty good. When he hit that water crossing he barely got his feet wet. For me it was the exact opposite. I hit the water crossing and went right to the bottom. I came out on the other side and tried to go with Kyle but my shoes were full of water and weighed about 3lbs a piece. That was all it took to make my legs hit the wall. The extra weight of the shoes and the amount of energy I had to burn to keep my legs turning over was too much. Each water crossing I hit It was harder and harder to keep from not falling over. My legs had officially been turned to gelatin. I was still less than a minute behind and I hadn't thrown in the towel just yet. I wanted to just get to the road with 3/4 of a mile to go. Where I'd put in one last effort to pull even with them. Once I hit the road I was able to see that they were only 200 yards or so ahead. I gave it everything I had left in the tank. In the end though it wasn't enough. With around 400 yards to go. I raised the white flag in surrender. With 200 yards to go I could hear and see the crowd at the finish plain as day. Cheering for the two champions as they crossed the line hands raised together in victory. With a winning time of 4:18:58. Followed by myself 31.7 seconds later for Third Overall in a time of 4:19:30.

   It was a bitter sweet finish for me. It sucks to be in a tough race like that and to have it all come down to a matter of seconds in the end. Still though I didn't expect to win the day anyway. So I was super happy to have been able to nail my goal time that I had figured up a month prior, right on the head. What was even more neat about hitting my goal right on. Was that I didn't even where a watch for the race. Leaving it in my bag that morning. Because I thought it would just add an extra element of stress to the day I really didn't want. I ran how I felt and was able to accomplish everything I wanted to do for the day. I hit my goal. Enjoyed my run and ending the season with a race through some beautiful country amidst a great bunch of people.

    It was a very well supported and run event. Thanks to everyone who made this year one of the most memorable ever. I'm very satisfied going into the off season. Knowing I was able to meet such a great bunch of people this past year. I got to run in some incredibly epic places and relit a fire that will be sure to burn for a few more years at the very least. Already I'm looking forward to the adventures I have planned for next year. First though, it's time to grab an ice cold beer eat like a pig for a week then familiarize myself with my family again. See everyone when the snow melts...

The La Sportiva Katy Trail 50 Miler - My Greatest Houdini to Date.

2010-10-04T13:27:00.001-06:00

   Well I was lucky enough to escape with the win at the Second Annual La Sportiva Katy Trail 50 Miler. Once again the stifling Midwest heat sabotaged yet another potentially fast time for me. I really hate running in the heat. I picked this race solely for the purpose of trying to break my PR for the 50 mile distance. Winning or losing was of no consequence to me. I came here to run fast. As the thermostat started to rise each day closer it got to race. I knew it was going to be miserable out there. Despite the conditions however I managed to run a 7:32:08 and cross the line ahead of everyone else.

   Here's a very quick run down of how the race went for me. From the gun I led the race for the first 25 miles or so. Coming through in 2:58:59. Right on pace for my pre race goal of a 6:20. About that time the sun started to really cook me and I hit a rough patch. I dropped from first to second place. At which point I thought my race was over. I decided not to give up though and forged ahead at a less than desirable pace. There were a lot of miles left and if I could find a way to get my legs back underneath me. I could get back into the hunt. At the turn around I took an extended stop to pour ice water over my head and get some cool fluids back into me. I got it going again after that and though having spent better than 5 minutes in the aide station I still found the legs to get to the 50km mark in 3:59. Trying to find a pace that I was able to maintain in the 90 plus degree heat index was starting to become a losing battle. I still had 19 miles to go and the heat had did a number on me.

   When I told myself anything could happen. I didn't actually think that it would. It was just what I was telling myself to keep from pulling the plug on the race. At mile 38 though. Anything did happen when I caught back up to the leader. Totally surprised but trying to stay calm. I thought for sure that I wasn't going to see this guy again. Especially when his 50km split was a 3:48 and change. Turned out he too had got a little carried away in the heat. Which had a more adverse effect on him than it did me. As his pace was reduced to an up tempo death march. We made some small talk and complained about how damn hot it was. Then I told him to hang in there and that I would see him at the finish line. Just like that the race was mine to lose again.

   The last 12 miles were a nightmare. The race described the trail as a tree lined trail with plenty of shade. If that was true I was having a hell of a time trying to find it. I'm sure that is a true statement in the early morning hours or in the evening. Right now however it was high noon and there wasn't a shadow in sight. Dehydrated and totally exposed to the sun. I just couldn't drink enough water to keep my limbs moving. I was going through two 20oz. bottles every five miles. Somehow I managed to stay on my feet and kept myself headed in the right direction. Eventually crossing the finish line. Completely delirious and seven pounds underweight.

   Disregarding the typical crappy heat we always seem to deal with out here. It was a great race, filled with friendly volunteers eager to help. The course is set up perfectly for a super fast time. I feel that it is a sub 6:00 course for the super fast runners that are out there. That is if the weather cooperates. In addition to this being a fast course it is also a Western States Qualifier. So even if you don't run like Krupicka, Roes or Killian but have aspirations of someday running in the fabled hundred miler of all hundred milers. This would be perhaps the easiest qualifier out there you could find. I highly recommend this race to anyone.

   I want to give a very gracious shout out to my sponsors. Salomon and Rudy Project for their generous support. Next up for me will be some pacing duties for my good friend and this years Kettle Moraine 100 mile Champion. Darin Schneidewind who will be trying his luck at the Heartland 100 miler on October 9Th. He has a pretty good chance of winning this one too and I'll be responsible for keeping him moving out there late in the game. I love pacing. It's a nice break from the norm. I can just run and get all the excitement and fun from a race without any of the stress. Three weeks after pacing I'll try my luck down in the Ozark Mountains near Table Rock Lake at the Dogwood Canyon 50km. It should be a very tough and challenging course with a pretty good cast of contenders too. With any luck I can carry the streak into the off season. That's not important though. I just want to have a good time in a beautiful place on some nice trails. With some cool weather for a change. A great way to end the season.

July was a Scorcher. Glad it's Over...

2010-08-04T20:57:00.002-06:00

This past Saturday I had the pleasure of running in the Third Annual Rock Creek Nite Races. Originally it wasn't my intentions to run the race. Instead what I had planned for the night was to volunteer setting out glow sticks on part of the course. Then help my wife at the aide station she would be working. Mostly just a lot of siting in a lawn chair with an ice cold beer in my hand. Watching the rest of my friends who had entered the Marathon. Suffer in the stagnant muggy night air.

While marking the course. The beauty of the rugged rocky technical trail had drawn me in. Like the peer pressure from your high school friends. Mother Nature knew just exactly how to twist my arm. Making my way back up to the start/finish area completing my assignment. I told the RD to put me down for another 13 miles just like it.

Not really sure how my legs would feel. Seeing as how the Half Marathon was to be my third run for the day. I wasn't entertaining any thoughts of racing this one all the way to the finish. Deciding instead to just go out hard for the first seven or eight miles then shut it down and cruise the rest of the distance in.

The race got underway and I hit the trail head with the lead. Running along the appropriately named section of trail Copperhead, where I once actually saw the trails namesake on a training run three years ago. I let my mind drift. Taking in the amazing views of Lake Perry along her rock strewn and weather beaten shore. I had the easy feeling of being on one of my everyday training runs. No pressure, no stress, cruising along in my own little world.

It wasn't long and I came into the first manned aide station at mile 5.7ish. With a split time of 36:54. A lot faster than I felt like I was running. I had a bottle filled and chugged two glasses of water and a couple of E-Caps. Staying true to my pre-race plan I kept running until I was forced to have to turn on my headlamp.

With just about all the light gone from the sky now. I didn't see any point to try and maintain this Kamikaze pace. The section of trail I was on is a technical nightmare in the daytime. The only thing I could hope to accomplish running a seven flat pace would be the complete mutilation of my feet and ankles. So I backed off and started to settle into a nice comfortable pace for the remainder of the evening.

The rest of the run I tried as best I could to focus my eyes on the small illuminated spot a few yards in front of me. Listening to my breathing. The shifting rocks under my feet and the night critters. By critters I mostly mean the blood sucking mosquito's buzzing in my ear. Before I realized where I was on the course. I found myself crashing out of the woods and onto the 1/4 mile of dirt road that lead us back to the finish line. Just like that it was over.

I crossed the finish line with a time of 1:59:14? I think. I wasn't too concerned with where that ended up. Satisfied with that time for a somewhat, long Half Marathon or short 25km. No matter what the actual distance ended up being. I was just happy to be done and all in all. It wasn't a bad way to end your third run for the day.

Thanks again to everyone for everything. It's been a pretty crazy but successful month of July. Now however it's time for me to take a little break and recharge the batteries for the Fall season.

Revenge, Vindication, Sleeping Giants, Whatever. This Was More Than Just A 50km...

2010-07-19T21:01:00.001-06:00

Training for this race for me. Began a little over seven weeks ago. After a race in which I didn't do as good as I had liked to. Some things were said to me. While in the process of congratulating the winner BY the winner I felt were a little uncalled for. I don't feel what was said was malicious in any way. Nor do I feel it was intended to hurt or anger anyone. I think more it was a simple case of someone trying to do a little post race trash talking. Though they could have chosen a better place and time to convey their emotions.

All I can say is that obviously the inexperience of being in that position before was the reason for their complete lack of restraint. My only hope is that they learned something from that experience. So that the next time they can keep from kicking an old dog when he is down.

Still licking the open wounds from the race and on the heels of such a low blow. I restrained myself from saying what I really felt. I swallowed my pride and finished congratulating him on a well run race. No harm no foul. All water under the bridge at this point. Instead of coming up with some lame reason or excuse for my poor performance. I decided to make a vow to myself then and there. At the next race we met each other at. It was going to play out totally different. The last thing I remember being said to me was "Bring it On."

Those three words were the fuel that spurred my training over the last seven weeks. If for no other reason than the pure simplicity of those words alone. It made me realize one thing. Under no circumstances should I ever become complacent with my place in the pack. That somebody, somewhere will always be gunning for you. I found that being a sponsored runner only raises the stakes of the game. People expect you to be able to have certain abilities. A consistency in your racing that earned you that honor in the first place. Which does nothing more in the end than make that bulls eye on your chest shine that much brighter.

With that thought constantly running through my head day and night. I went back to the drawing board. Looked at the calendar. Picked a race and crunched the numbers. Coming up with a plan the would get me to the starting line of the next race with my "A" game in tow.

The next six weeks of training were literally HELL! Never in my life have I trained at that level of intensity for that long under those conditions. During those six weeks I covered 659 miles of running during the hottest part of the day whenever I could. Over the hilliest ground I could find. I would run so long, to the point of intentionally making myself sick. Knowing that's what had to be done in order to have a solid run on the Wyco course in the month of July.

As the weeks past by. I became sick less and less during my runs. Until eventually the unbearable 90 to 100 degree heat indexes felt like mild 70's. Each week I became stronger on the hills. Able to do more and more repeats with the same intensity. Going into an extremely hilly race it was a 100 percent pure confidence builder. The 170lbs I normally fight at was now too heavy. So my body did what any ones would do when training like someone possessed. If it didn't need it. It got rid of it. I began to drop weight like a Crack Head on a two year bender. Finally ending up at 162lbs. The lightest I have ever been. Each day closer it got. The more the promise to myself of actually winning the whole damn thing became a realistic goal.

Not wanting to come off like Babe Ruth. Calling my shot only to strike out because something went drastically wrong. I kept my desire to win the race mostly to myself. Other than my wife and training partners. Darin Schneidewind and John Knowles. Nobody knew what I was up to.

   The week before the race arrived. Along with the tapper tantrums from the lack of running. Little phantom aches and pains here and there. Which in itself would be enough to shake the confidence of even the most mentally fit athlete. The forces to be felt it was not enough. So they decided to test my mental fortitude by throwing in two sick kids. Fours inches of rain on the race course. Hell virtually breaking loose at my job. A raccoon in front of my car on the way home from working night shift. Causing $3,200 dollars worth of damage. Dealing with the insurance company. The rental car company and lastly. A tire puncture on the family minivan. Phewww!!! Somehow in spite of all that happened I managed to keep my cool. Staying what I was now saying, "Zen to Win."

   Race morning the alarm went off at 5:00AM. Way too early and not near enough sleep. The stress of knowing what I had to do in order to do what I wanted to. Finally caught up with me. I tossed and turned all night. The work had been done and there was nothing else I could do. I knew I was ready. A little sleepy or not, I was ready to run. I got dressed. Threw on the flip flops and loaded the car. Then started the trek East.

    Pulling into the park Jess and I stopped by packet pick up to get my number. Then we headed over to the aide station where she would be working for the day. I set up a little chair and laid out some shoes so that I could make a change if I needed to on the second loop. After we got set up there we cruised on back to the start/finish area. By that time more people had arrived and the parking lot was filling up pretty quickly. We managed to get a spot near the starting line.

   Bad Ben sure had a good turnout for the race this year. 326 starters combined for both races. 112 of which were signed up for the 50km. That was pretty much double the size from the year before. Usually when you have that kind of turnout the field gets a bit deeper too. Bad Ben made sure to point that out the week prior also. By posting a list of potential overall contenders twenty some people long. He even threw in a few surprise contenders that had got me excited for a second. Then I realized he was probably just pulling my leg. Having a little fun.

   After looking at that list and filtering out who I thought the real contenders were from the pretenders. I came up with a much shorter list than his. Out of that list of 20 or so. There were really only three or four guys I was worried about. Greg Buehler, Rick Mayo, Todd Nott and Matt Becker. All of these guys have had great results in the past on this course. Whether in the summer version or the winter version.

   For me that is what it really comes down to. It doesn't matter how fast you've run a flat hundred miler. Ripped off some smoking quick time at Boston or won a race with 12 finisers. On this course none of that matters. If you can't run either up or down short very steep hills at those same precarious speeds over technical rocky and root strewn terrain. You don't stand a chance here. Course knowledge reigns supreme and these guys have already proven they had that and more. If there was going to be a winner I knew it was going to come from one of us five guys.

    Ben called everyone over for the final pre-race instructions. I lined up shoulder to shoulder with Buehler. Rick was standing on the sidelines. Becker was a few rows back and Todd was behind me. Everybody else was a blur. Greg wished me luck and I said the same to him. He asked me how I was feeling and I told him. Anymore I'm 50/50 when it comes to running in the heat. Sometimes I show up and nail it. Other times I run like shit. I said I'd see how I felt a couple of hours from then.

   Ben gave the signal and we were off. Immediately Buehler and Mayo jumped out to the front of the group. I slotted myself into fourth position behind a guy who seemed like he really wanted to be in third at that point more than I did. Up the little hill hitting the single track and down the other side I quickly jumped up a spot. Already the guy in third was making me a little nervous as he started hitting the breaks in front of me. "On your left." I yelled letting it out a little on that first downhill. Settling in right behind Rick and Greg as they transitioned into the next of several hundred small climbs we would be dragging ourselves up and over for the next five hours. Things pretty much stayed that way for the first six miles.

   Running smooth still around mile five Rick leading the way. We encountered the first of the major climbs. "HEDGEHOG" A particularly nasty little B!#*h of a climb. I'm not sure of the gradient on this climb. My guess, is if it has a rope tied to a tree at the bottom of the hill and one to a tree at the top. Then it has to be pretty damn steep. Halfway up the climb Rick asked if I was doing O.K. I told him I was good for now. Not too bad. That was kind of a lie as I was feeling really good. Completely within my comfort zone. I wasn't even starting to breathe hard. Still I wasn't quite ready to let it fly just yet. I wanted to keep it where it was for a few more miles to see if any other runners were going to catch up to our little duo. In and out of the aide station at mile 5.5 I took the lead for the first time. To take a turn on cobweb patrol. I really didn't want to lead at all on the first loop but with Rick and I the only ones out front it was only fair to take a turn up front and do some work. Out of the woods, down the dam and across the spillway. I arrived at the foot of the "Col du Fall Down Hill." Another nasty climb. Twice as long as Hedgehog with at least a dozen and a half switchbacks. Some say this is the worst hill on the course but not me. It reminds me of the Ozarks. I get a big kick out of running up or down this mini monster. Hands down my favorite section of the course.

   Pre race I had chatted with Andy Henshaw. Last years course winner about some tactics for this race based on how I like to run. So far those plans were nothing like we discussed. I was running the pace we talked about and well within myself but I was leading. Instead of being in 5th like we thought I might be at this point. Everything felt right. It just looked all wrong. Still I was going to stick to the plan. Staying with the idea of trying to maintain and effort and not a pace.

    At the bottom of Fall Down looking up. With Rick a hundred or so yards behind me. I dropped it down a gear and found a nice comfortable effort I thought I could maintain to the top. A few switchbacks into the climb. I heard Rick yell something up to me from below. I couldn't make out what it was though. Either, "Good Job" or "Go Dave" I wasn't sure all I know is that when I reached the top and got into the aide station there. Which, wasn't quite set up yet. Rick was no longer behind me.

    From here things went pretty smooth running wise with one exception. Truckin along. Completely in the zone after leaving the aide station around the 11 mile mark. I had come to a three way fork in the road. It was then I realized I'd missed a turn somewhere. I spent some time looking down each direction just to make certain I wasn't missing a trail marker. Nope, I was off course. After wasting what felt like a good four or five minutes. I had made it back to where I had missed my turn. Expecting the course to follow some kind of trail. It became clear why I missed the turn in the first place. The trail flags went completely up the side of this very steep short hill. In Barkleyesque fashion right through the freakin underbrush.

    Once I got myself back on track. Instead of panicking, I just kept my cool. I was running good and I knew my second loop would be ruined if I tried to get back what was lost too quickly. Really the goal was just to get back through the start/finish area with enough of a gap to be in and out of there before anybody else caught site of me. In the past I've had the tendency to linger at this one so I was completely focused on getting what I needed and getting back on course. It was starting to warm up quickly now by this point but I had two more miles or so to go before I could get back to my wife's aide station and sit for a minute while I took care of myself.

    Coming into the 18 mile aide station. Greg Burger was waiting at the edge of the parking lot asking me what I needed ready to grab my bottles. I had Jess get me a fresh bandanna with ice. She handed me a gel she already had opened for me. I sat down in the chair. Slammed the gel and peeled off my wet shoes and socks. In less than a minute I had my brand spankin new Speedcrosses on. Fresh out of the box with dry socks to match. It's a huge boost on this course knowing that your shoes are dry and light with 14 miles to go. Greg had my bottles ready to go. I wiped the sweat and grime off with a towel. Grabbed a hat full of ice. Said some big thank yous and I was out. Two minutes flat. That was the fastest I'd ever did that much in that little amount of time. I'd practiced that a few times on a couple of my training runs but didn't expect it to go so smooth during an actual race.

    Back out on the trail. 18 miles in the bank now and still feeling pretty damn good. I wanted this feeling to last all damn day but deep down I knew at some point. The wheels were going to eventually fall off. I still had a good bit of energy left and I wanted to make the most of it that I could. So the decision was made to make one more surge to gain a little extra ground on the rest of the field. The terrain between Jess and Greg's aide station and Hedgehog Hill is a bunch of little rollers. If I could keep a relaxed but consistent effort all the way to the bottom of Hedgehog. I might be able to have enough to run up the damn hill when I got there.

    In what felt like no time at all there I was at the bottom staring up. I just gritted my teeth and said out loud. "YOU and ME." This time around there wasn't any big powerful strides from me. I had it dialed way back. Short choppy quick feet that must have resembled somebody trying to walk barefoot across hot coals. I wasn't exactly running but I wasn't exactly going backwards or stopping to stretch out a calf or a hammy either. Slowly but surely I made it to the top without losing a huge chunk of time. Over the top now I got a little break cruising down to the bottom of Pancake Hill. On the way down however is when I noticed the first signs of the 'ol transmission beginning to strip out on me. Just before I made the left onto Pancake. I felt a twinge in my left calf. I ignored it at first but halfway up the steady little climb I had to break down and really walk for the first time. Not because I wanted to but because I HAD too. If I could get to the top. I could suck it up on the downhill road section into the aide station at 20 something So I could take corrective action.

    What a relief it was to get here. The ladies working the aide station were like Godsends. They revived me and brought me back from what would've been a big time meltdown. I had my bottles filled with ice and water. Then one of them asked If I wanted a pitcher of ice water poured over me. YES PLEASE!!! No sooner did they do that my heart wanted to jump straight out of my chest. That got the blood pumping again and pumping cold too. My core temp must have dropped 20 degrees. Instantly I felt like I did a couple of hours earlier. I grabbed some S-Caps for the cramps said thank you and kept moving.

    Alright here we go man. Lets get this done. I had some runnable trail coming up and a little jaunt across another open field at the bottom of the spillway. As soon as I get that behind me. I'd look behind me for the first time. For two reasons. One, I wasn't sure where the hell everybody else was at and two. If I looked back and didn't see anybody. It would allow me a bit of a break on the climb up Fall Down Hill. Just into the treeline on the other side of the spillway. I looked through the trees back across the field. Fully expecting to see someone flying down the hill on the other side. I was relieved. Really relieved to not see anything but an empty field.

    I wasn't sure how far ahead of everyone else I was. It was still way too early to start speculating. So I kept telling myself I was not more than four or five minutes at best. Which meant that for no reason do I walk unless it's to fight off a cramp. Up, up and away I went. Starting the climb of the "Col du Fall Down Hill" for the second time. This time it was all I could do to KEEP from falling down. I would run as long as I could then my calf would cramp. Back to running then my hamstring would start barking at me. I made it though.

   Walking up that last little steep pitch into the aide station. I was getting real hungry but I couldn't put down any solid food. I was starting to bonk pretty hard. I forced down a banana and a few orange quarters. Filled my bottles with ice and kept moving. It was about 4 miles to the next stop and maybe I would be in the mood to eat something there. That was my new goal. I had a real easy bridal trail section to get through. Then a nice little downhill on the new boyscout route before somehow trying to find the strength to drag my ass back up to the road and down into aide station.

    I was really running delirious now. I damn near missed the turn back towards the boyscout section and would've if it wasn't for a couple of runners in the 15 mile race coming back towards me. Ahh Shit! I got myself turned around and heading in the right direction. Down the road into the boyscout section. The run down was great the first time through. This time, like everything else on the second loop it had a completely different look and feel. The gloves were off and I wasn't having fun anymore. I was starting to worry a little at this point. Still cramping and still hungry. I tried to work with the cramps the best I could. The S-Caps I had taken a few miles back hadn't done anything for me. So I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the trusty old standby.

Here is where I made my second big mistake of the day. In that pocket I had some rock salt and for some reason I decided at that moment it would be a good idea to take three pretty good sized chunks out of the little baggie I had. Put them in my mouth and swallow them down like they were vitamins. I was cramping really really bad at this point. My thinking was that if one chunk would do the trick. Three would do it much faster. Wrong....Big mistake. It was a little over a quarter mile into the 27 mile aide station. As I stumbled in. The volunteer asked if I was O.K.? I think so I said? I wasn't quite sure. I was so damn delirious by this point I wasn't sure of anything. One thing I did know though. Is that rock salt I had just taken was about to make a comeback. I started to get the feeling like I needed to hurl. There wasn't enough time to make it to the trees or a trash can. It was no use trying to hold it in either. So I just let it rip over the side of the railing in the shelter house. In front of God and everybody. The cool thing was that it wasn't once but THREE times.

I could hear the gasps and groans from all the bystanders. Arrghhh, Oooo, Ohhhh!!! I wanted to laugh because it must have of looked pretty damn funny but couldn't because my stomach hurt too bad from the convulsing. I feared I might start hurling again and start a full on Barf-o-Rama right there in the aide station. Wouldn't that of been a sight for the next runner coming round the corner to see.

The volunteer asked if I was O.K. I told him I felt a lot better now. Sitting down was out of the question. If I was gonna lose this thing it was going to be on my feet and not sitting in an aide station. Feeling sorry for myself about the rookie decision I made with the salt. I apologized for the mess and thanked them. Then lit out for the trail head.

Back on course yet again. I really did feel much better and I could feel it in my legs. The queasiness was gone and my head had cleared too. I could concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing again. Running my ass off for the finish line. First order of business though was to get the fluid back into me. Seeing as I just lightened my load by about 30 ounces a few minutes earlier. I walked the bushwhack section up the hill that I missed on the first loop. Drinking the whole way up. Once at the top I knew I had a runnable road section to connect back over to the Wyandotte Triangle Loop. Knowing that If I got there with only five minutes over the person in second place that it was pretty much a done deal.

Coming off the road I got myself lined up again for the approach into the aide station at the Triangle. I had my bottle filled and left one at the station because the trail loops you back up to the aide station again before you turn left and head for home. Snaking my way through the many switchbacks in the Triangle I finally made it up, out and back to the aide station. Here it was. The moment of truth. As they handed me the bottle I left them a few minutes earlier they told me I had a five minute gap on the guy in second place. I asked Danny who it was? Rick? Greg? Todd? He said he wasn't sure. It was some skinny guy they have never seen before? What???

O.K. So that wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear. I thought for sure it would've been Rick since he was the only one that was up front earlier in the race that I didn't catch site of in the Boyscout loop a few miles back. Who was this guy and just how fast was he going? I was clueless. So I did what I do best. Run Scared. It happens every time I have a lead late in a race with only a couple miles to go. This is where I do some of my best work. The adrenaline takes over and the pace gets quicker.

Two and a half miles to go to the finish line now. I glanced at my watch and it said 4:43:XX. It was going to be close. My pre race goal off 4:55:00 was out the window now. If I could keep moving though through all the mud pits on the bridal trails. I still might be able to crack 5:00:00. I thought how I'd like to have those four minutes I lost on the first loop back right now. I thought about the bonehead maneuver with the rock salt costing me a minute. As I started to think about all this crap. My pace started to slip away. A little under two to go now and I came up behind some 15 mile runners. Right as they were getting to a gigantic mud hole. Still motivated by fear there was no time to slow up and wait for them to get around it. So right up the middle it was. When I made it across to the other side. I noticed something wasn't quite right. Looking down at my right foot I discovered I had lost a shoe back in the mud pit. Ahhhgggg. Damn!!! Of all places to lose a wheel it had to be here and now. So for the better part of the next minute was wasted fishing my shoe out of the soup.

Just like that all hopes of running under five hours was over. The adrenaline rush was still there but only just. It didn't quite have the same zest as it started out with. so for the rest of the race I focused on getting over the last couple little hills and out into the open meadow before the finish line.

Coming out of the woods and across the meadow. With the finish line in sight. I took a deep breath and exhaled. Of course like always the last few hundred yards become as pain free as the first few hundred yards. Making the turn off the steel bridge into the finishing chute. The first person I saw. Was my good buddy and training partner Darin Schneidewind. Totally pumped up now. I yelled to him **** Who? What was his name??? Realizing at that moment. It was just like Babe Ruth. Calling his shot. Then drilling it out of the park.

After I crossed the finish line I was surrounded by family and friends. My wife. Ben and Sophia. The Knowles and the Schneidewinds. The people who have been in my corner all along. The same ones who believed in what I could do when I really get the bit between my teeth. Running to my full potential. As well as those friends with SALOMON who support and sponsor me that couldn't be there. Yet supply me with the goods that allow me to run at the top of my game. All of you I thank from the bottom of my heart.

All the hard work. All those miles and miles. Running in the unforgiving Midwest summertime heat. Hill repeat after hill repeat in the jungle behind the Governors Mansion. The long runs curled over on the side of the road throwing up. It was all totally worth it. Would I do it again? Would I work this hard for the next one? You bet I will! Seven weeks ago. A sleeping giant was awaken and he woke up hungry.....

Not So Much...Or Not?

2010-06-11T19:52:00.000-06:00

The Future of Trail Running and the Heir to my Throne. Just remember for all you fast guys nipping at my heals. You'll be old one day too. Then this little guy will be nipping at yours.

Not much of anything has been happening in my world lately. Spending a lot of time at work and with the family. Ball games, bicycles and water sprinklers. All the wonderful stuff that comes along with being a father of two in the summer when schools out.

As far as running has been going. Well, lets just say I've been doing a little of that here and there when I can find the time. Nowhere near what I was doing last year around this time. I guess I'm just getting old.

I don't really have anything planned for the rest of this year but that's not to say that I won't show up anywhere. We'll just see how the days treat me. Every year older I get it becomes harder and harder to get the training I need during the summer months. In order to be competitive at any distance.

Probably safe to say I'm on the way out physically. Mentally though I'm not ready to give up the fight. I guess just because I've been doing it for so long.

Yeah right! Who the hell am I kidding? Who really believes I'm ready to hang 'em up? Everyone knows I'm going to die while running. Why the hell would I trade in my trail shoes for a rockin chair? It'll be a long time before this ol' boy is ready to be put to pasture and a cold day in Hell before I fight my last fight.

I just thought I'd write that to see what it looked like. One day I know I'm going to have to walk away competitively but right now I'm having too much fun. We'll see everyone at the races real soon. Til then happy trails and may the forest be with you all....

A Marathon was Fun Enough.

2010-05-25T14:59:00.001-06:00

L to R: Tony Clark, myself and Randy Albreicht before the start of the Hawk 50 miler.

This past Saturday I had the distinct pleasure of running in the Hawk 50 miler. To keep things short and sweet this time around. Initially I had planned on trying to rip off a solid time here. Mother Nature however had other ideas. As she often does during springtime in Kansas.

Leading up to the race it had probably rained six days during the week and a half before. Leaving us with about six inches of rain. The temps weren't too terribly bad. Mostly in the 50's and 60's for the first three weeks of the month. Praying that they would hold off for another week I felt that if it stayed cool. I still had a chance to run a solid race. But once again Mother Nature had her say in that as well. Projected temps for the day were to hit into the upper 80's. With a heat index into the mid 90's.

Well crap! Anybody that knows me. Knows I'm pretty hit and miss with my races when the thermostat shoots north of 75 degrees. With the real cool Spring we had. I had absolutely no heat training under my belt. My goals quickly started to change with every hour it got closer to the start of the race. By the time race morning had rolled around. I had no plan.

I didn't know what the heck I was going to do or even what the heck I was doing there? I should have listened to the little voice in my head but hell, I already paid and I was here so I decided to at least give it a shot.

The start of the race. Truly low key.

Right from the gun I took the lead. No surprise to anyone there. It was back to the same 'ol tactic I always pull. Off the front as hard as I could. For as long as I could. I just wanted to get as many miles behind me before it really started to stew down in the trees.

The course was a mess. Even messier than the month before at the Freestate Ultras. Where I had thought that those conditions were the worst I had ever seen. Man what did I know about bad.

One of the few dry sections. Still impossible to maintain any kind of pace.

Things were going O.K. Not great. I was sweating a lot but I was doing a real good job. Keeping up on the electrolytes and fluid. I was breathing normal and running relaxed. At mile 11 or 12 I think I had a 12 minute lead on the rest of the field. After that though. I started to feel the heat picking up. So I made a conscious decision to pull back a little on the pace.

Not long after that though I started to feel like this was as about as much fun as I wanted to have for the day. Coming into the Lands End aide station I had already made the choice to go ahead and drop down to the Marathon distance. At that point I had around 7 or 8 miles to go. I was done fighting the mud too at that point so I really backed off the pace.

Coming back into the start finish area after the small 3 mile plus loop we had to make to get the Marathon done. I stopped and chatted with Co-race director Collen Voeks for about 10 minutes before going on to cross the line for an official Marathon finish. My time for the day was a very humbling 4:20:45.

Looking back on it now I should have listened a little harder to that voice inside my head and made the smart choice to drop down to the Marathon before the start. Had I done that I think I could possibly have run a sub 4 hour race under those conditions. As it stood though my 4:20:45 was still nearly 36 minutes faster than the Official marathon winners time of 4:56:??.

John Knowles washing the mud out of his crack. At the usually only shin deep water crossing.

I've had a chance to really digest what this race did for me. What it means towards the big picture. Towards the rest of my season. Gladly I can say if anything. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. To be able to experience a bad race now and then I think is good for a runner. It helps you put things into perspective. It forces you to take a look at what is really important to you. Giving you a chance to see what you really need to work on for upcoming races as well as giving you that extra fuel you need to push yourself that much harder in workouts.

I'm happy with the choice I made to drop down to the shorter distance. I'll be able to jump right back into high volume training without having to take downtime for recovery. And as long as the weather stays hot out. I'll be able to get the kind of training I need. So as to be able to run a more intelligent race at the next one.

I just want to thank all the volunteers and folks involved with putting on the Hawk 50 miler. It's a huge undertaking to put on an Ultra event and though this first year race had a few kinks. It is nothing I feel that they won't be able to workout before next year. Now if we could just get Mother Nature on the payroll and see if she can't provide us with cooler weather for next time...

A common sight on the trail. This is what we ran trough all day...

Churning Out New Tricks in the Muddy Madness at Freestate

2010-04-26T16:07:00.002-06:00

Miramoto Musashi a 16TH century strategist on combat, tactics and philosophy wrote in his Book of the Five Rings that. "It is harmful to do the same thing several times in the course of combat. You can do the same thing twice but never three times."

In the past six weeks leading up to Freestate. Things hadn't really been going my way in regards to training and running. Six weeks ago at 3 Days of Syllamo I was forced to accept a less than stellar performance. Due to some lingering symptoms of a nasty stomach virus I came down with just a week before the race.

From there things just started to go downhill. About a week after 3 Days. I joined the ranks of the walking wounded. Developing a stress fracture of the Cuboid bone in my right foot. The pain wasn't so bad that I had to completely stop running. It was painful enough though that I had to throw in the towell on a couple of my long runs around the 20 mile mark.

Fast forward to yesterday. After six weeks of what I would consider less than ideal training under my belt. I toed the line armed with the knowledge that. I was not the strongest runner there by a long shot. To make the task of defending my title from last year more daunting. My good friend Mike Adams was signed up for the race. Mike won the race here the first two years and is the current course record holder.

Standing on the starting line. I had the feeling that with the kind of condition I was in. At the end of the day I would be handing Mike back his crown at the very best. The only concern I had for the day was if I was going to have enough to at the very least salvage a spot on the podium? Race director Bad Ben Holmes gave the countdown to the gun and we were off.

My plan was simple. There were five things I had to remember if I was somehow going to make this a race.

1. Don't give my competition the race they expected from me.

2. Resist the urge to sprint off the front.

3. Tuck in behind Mike for as long as I could.

4. Purposely hold back through the muddy sections.

5. At the first sign of weakness take over and go for broke.

Everything was going as planned. By my not going out hard from the gun. Mike was left along with the other usual suspects, scratching theirs heads. Which in return caused the pace to be pedestrian. 8:30 - 9:00 minute miles were all we were churning out in the mud. That was fine with me. At this rate when it would be time to make my move I would have a lot left in my tank. Mike and I came into the aide station at 10 miles neck and neck with a couple of other runners in tow and we left out the same way. That would all soon change though as my pre race plan was about to shot full of holes.

Things were still going great for the next couple of miles. I was starting to feel like this was the easiest first half of race I'd ever run. Just as I started to think that, it happened. Mike toed a rock hidden in the mud and went flailing down the trail out of control. Luckily he pulled it out and managed to stay on his feet. Unfortunately for me though, it left me in the position I wasn't quite ready to be in just yet.

So there I was with around 28 miles to go from the finish. Being forced to make a decision. Not fully convinced that Mike was out of it. I decided to hang back for a little bit longer. I decided that this would be a good time to get the electrolytes back in me. I kept checking over my shoulder periodically to see where Mike was at and if he was coming back. Each time I looked over my shoulder though. He kept falling a little further behind until I didn't see him anymore. Once I stopped seeing him I chose to go for it. If it was a bluff from him. It was one hell of a damn bluff and I was about to call him on it.

Coming back through the start/finish area. I got what I needed from my wife Jessica and I was out of there. Back down the access road to the trailhead I saw Mike coming off the trail. I probably had around two minutes on him at this point. He was still hanging in there and I once again decided to hold back a bit. To see if he was going to get it together and catch back up. I dialed it back on a couple more of the steep muddy hills. If Mike was going to catch back up. Then I figured I could just let him take the lead again and I could hang and wait before I put in the move.

The last time I saw Mike was on a short loop around in the trail. Where the trail going out almost overlaps the trail coming back in. We both hit the spot where the trail overlaps right at the same time. That was all the confirmation I needed. I figured it took me about five minutes to run that little section. So that's what I figured I had on him at that point. I thought well, that's as good as it's going to get. So I put my head down and just started running. I wasn't worrying about where Mike was anymore and was completely focused on what I needed to keep doing to get to the finish line strong.

I had a quick stop and go at the Lands End aide station. Topping off the bottle with Heed and grabbing a handful of M&M's. I was doing real good at the aide stations. Not spending more than a minute at any one of them. Out of Lands End I kept telling myself to keep moving forward. This next section was where the real mud began and I was either going to keep it together through here or lose my mind in the mud and sabotage all the hard work I had done up to that point.

Halfway through the toughest part I slipped and slid my way up the hill to the KUS (Kansas Ultrarunners Society's) aide station. Again Jessica met me there with what I needed and I was out. She asked If I needed anything and I just said get back to the finish I would be there in a little while.

Heading back West now towards the finish. I started to get excited about the prospect of actually maybe pulling this thing off. With every step closer I got. The harder and harder it was to keep from thinking about it. I finally stopped thinking about it when around 10km to go. My left calf started to give little hints here and there that it may seize up at anytime. Keeping my pace wasn't as easy as it was a mile or two before and I actually felt like I was starting to work a bit. So I walked the very next hill I came to and took that break to pop a couple of extra S-Caps and chug down some more Heed. Then I started off at a slow pace again.

The twinges in my left calf subsided but only just in time for me to make my one and only mental mistake of the day. With five miles to go slidding down a muddy slope. I caught a root with my left foot and went airborne. The only place for me to go was in the brush. I probably flew about 8 -10 feet through the air then landed smack flat on my stomach. I layed there stunned for a second or two. Then I made a quick injury check. I realized everything was O.K. and got up and started running again. Man the adrenaline was flowing now. Once I started running again I noticed that I was running the fastest I'd run the entire race. Averaging sub 8 minute miles for the last five in the mud.

Coming into the last aide station with around three miles to go. I could smell the barn. Grab and Go and out. A mile to go now and I could feel the energy from the finish. I took one last look over my shoulder to see if Mike or anyone caught back up to me. Nope. Coast was clear. With a half mile to go still down in the woods I could hear the finish line. All I could do now was think about how I was going to cross the line.

Coming across the line. All I could think of was to point to the Salomon Logo on my chest. The way a professional cyclist would after he steals a race or a stage victory he wasn't supposed to win. I slowed down to a stop after crossing the line and hunched over at the waist. Bad Ben put the gold around my neck for the second year in a row and congratulated me. He told me that was one of the smartest races that he had ever seen me run. Saying he noticed a change in my attitude from this year compared to last year. I agreed.

He was right too. There has been a change in my attitude over the past year. A change that can only be attributed to the feeling I get from being sponsored by the good folks at Salomon. It's a good feeling. Being able to toe the line these days. Knowing I have the full confidence and support from the greatest bunch of trail gurus in the buisness. Everytime I throw on that jersey and lace up my Speedcrosses. I feel a sense of pride that says. This is what I stand for. This, is who I am. It felt really good to be able to give back and represent the folks at Salomon. Who have giving me so much already with a victory.

Before I finish. I want to thank everyone involved with the Freestate Ultras for putting on one of the best organized ultras in the Midwest. It's a top notch event year after year and it just keeps getting better. I also want to thank my wife Jessica for putting up with me over the last six weeks. It wasn't easy to say the least. Thank you for being my crew captain. Love you.

Good Times in the Natural State

2010-02-09T23:20:00.000-06:00

This past weekend I had a chance to get away and run a little 50km down in the Boston Mountains of Arkansas. The White Rock Classic 50km. This is a great little race put on by the great folks of the Arkansas Ultra Runners Association. The race takes place just west of Turner Bend, Arkansas. Near Cass, Arkansas about an hour east of Fayetteville. It is held on the forest service road that takes you up to the overlook pavillion on the top of White Rock Mountain. The picture below is actually a shot taken from the top of White Rock Mountain by Deb Johnson.

The day before the race was a little hectic for me. In wanting to maximize my vacation time this year for actual vacation and not racing. I had to be creative and make full use of every hour of every day. So the day before the race I had gotten off work at 7 in the morning. After working midnight shift. At 7 in the morning I had already been up for 10 hours. No big deal. Except when I got home I didn't get a chance to lay down. My son had a play group to attend and I stayed home to watch the little one. When I layed her down for her nap. I used the time to get everything packed and loaded into my car. I had to leave by 2:30 that afternoon to meet up with Stewart and Deb Johnson who I was hitching a ride down with.

Once I made it to Stewart and Deb's house we loaded everything up in the car and headed over to pick up a couple of more runners for the carpool. I thought That I might be able to catch a quick nap on the way down but I was too cramped in the car and having such a good time talking to everyone that it just didn't happen. We finally arrived at the hotel in Fayetteville around 10 that night and I think I ended up falling asleep a little after midnight. Meaning I had been awake for over 25 hours. Not really the rest day I had planned for myself the day before a race but oh well.

6 am came early enough and we were heading out at 6:45 to get to the Turner Bend General Store to sign in for registration. The drive heading east out of Fayetteville was gorgeous. Noticing that the further we drove into the mountains tha taller they seemed than what I was used to seeing before down here in races like Midnight 50km and 3 Days of Syllamo. Not to worry though. I had an idea of what I was getting into and that was good enough for me.

Arriving at Turner Bend store the faces in the crowd were all familiar to me. All the usual suspects from the Arkansas scene. After signing in at the store we headed over to the starting line about a mile up the road. At 9 am the race got under way and I found myself in the lead pack running next to good friend Stan Ferguson. Stan has won the race more times than I can count on one hand. He also holds the course record for the race at 3:58:27. I was right where I wanted to be. For the moment anyway.

After running a few high mileage weeks back to back to back. I had only given myself a few days to bounce back. So I was more interested in seeing how my legs responded to the workload then how fast I could run on this day. The only real goal I had was that I wanted to run under 4:30. Which I felt was a pretty reallistic goal. Considering the course had over 5400 ft of vertical gain over 32 miles. With 6 climbs of around two miles in length or better. Giving those statistics I figured that would tell me I was in 4:15 shape on the average course back home. Which is faster than I have ever been in the month of February.

Back to the race as Stan and I were running along.

Accompanied by another friend Paul Turner I couldn't help but notice how quickly the first couple of miles flew by. Considering they were going uphill at a 10 percent gradient. We trucked through the first two in a little under 18 minutes. Two minutes faster than I had planned too pre race. What the hell. I was in the moment and it didn't seem to be bothering anyone else I was running with so I went with it. Mile 4 saw us come through under 32 minutes. With the help of a downhill we dropped the pace down to 8 minute miles. No sweat. I still felt good and wasn't in danger just yet. Mile 6 a little over 47 minutes. O.K. not bad. Lets just keep it right here boys. Was what I was thinking. But Stan had other plans. Stans biggest strength is in his ability to hammer downhills. Which is what he decided to do. After the second climb at 9 minute pace Stan proceeded to drop it down to a 6 min mile. Doing it ever so relaxed. Mile 8 we came in right at an hour. Which doesn't seem like that big of a deal except when you throw in nearly 4 miles of climbing. Your legs will start to feel it a bit. Being a flatlander I was really starting to feel it but was in no position to start my death march just yet.

I kept up with Stan's torrid pace for as long as I could handle and as quoted by one of the aide station volunteers. "Stan was in Candyland." Indeed he was. He was having one of those days where nothing he did could go wrong. We came through 10 miles in 1:15:XX almost 7:30 flats. With 16 miles being the turnaround for the race I was begining to wonder if I'd be able to hold onto Stan. I didn't have to wonder for much longer. Around mile 13. Stan started pulling a slight lead on me on the last climb. I didn't panic though. I was on his turf and this is what he ran everyday. This was nothing like what I eat for breakfast so, advantage Stan. I just tried to limit my losses on the climb the best I could. Then I heard the foot steps of another runner Stan and I had past earlier in the race. We chatted for a bit an made small introductions. I could still see Stan about 100 yds ahead. So I still wasn't worried. Then the next thing I knew this guy was starting to pull a gap on me. WTF? Oh well I thought. I'll just keep doing my thing and try to catch back up on the return trip. With any luck if I kept the pressure on their wheels may fall off and the race would be mine to lose. 200 yds from the turnaround I see Stan coming back down the mountain. Running smooth not really pushing it. Then right as I get to the turnaround the other guy that had a small gap on me was coming back. O.K. time to get some time back. As I went to grab my top gear. I was shocked to find that it just wasn't there. Stuck in fourth gear I couldn't do what I had to do to close the gap and get back in the race. So I did the only thing I know how to do. Which is redline as long as I can. The entire five miles or so back down to the aide station at mile 22. I was on the bubble. Legs trashed from the beating the course had given me thus far. I walked out of the aide station and tried to get the legs switched back to a climbing gear. SHIT. Yeah. On the downhill I turned my legs into Jell-O and my platform now was shakey at best. The only gear I had left was super slow motion.

This isn't good at all. I had this climb and another after this one to get through before I could let myself fall to crap. What now? Run 150 ft. walk 50 ft. then repeat until I got to the top of the climb. That strategy was enough to let my legs recover on the following downhill where I was able to save myself from losing anymore ground to runners behind. At this point the only way I would move up in position was if either Stan or the other guy had gotten mauled by a black bear. I was running for 3RD at this point.

Knowing I was near the top of the last climb in which I somehow managed to jog at a slow but albeit consistant pace. I was on my final descent. Looking at my watch with two miles to go. It read 4:14:XX. At first I just wanted to take it easy the last two and except whatever time I got there in. That quickly faded though as it always does when I find myself on the bubble with my pre race time goals. It was downhill. At the very least I could average 8 minute miles over the next two. So I went all out as fast as I could make my oxygen starved legs move. Not long after the decision to go for it. The finish line came into sight. I glanced at the watch and it read 4:26:XX. I knew I made it so I shut off the gas and cruised across the line in a time of 4:27:27. Going well under my pre race goal of 4:30:00. Reassuring me that I was right where I need to be for February.

Stan finished off his strong effort with a winning time of 4:12:18 I think. The other guy finished around seven minutes ahead of me in 4:20:XX. Paul Turner had a strong run bringing it home in a time of 4:50 something and 2009 Arkansas Traveler 100 mile Champ. Po Dog Vogeler rounded out the top five with a 5:08 and change.

After the running was over everyone had a great time sitting around the grill swapping war stories and pigging out on Moon Pies and Dr. Peppers.

It's now been three days as I sit here and write this out since the race and my legs are still tender to the touch in spots. I still can't say enough about what a great time I had on a very tough and beautiful course. With great friends. I'm already chomping at the bit to get back down there in five weeks for this years running of the 3 Days of Syllamo.

Pre-Occupied

2010-02-02T03:01:00.000-06:00

   Well here we go ready or not. A new racing season is upon us and I have once again been consumed by the trail. Since my last entry I've gotten on the ball a bit with my running. Almost to the point of getting carried away.
After starting off this year under the weather for the first couple of weeks. The first chance I had where I felt somewhat normal I started loading on the miles.
   Over the last 21 days of which only 18 of them were running days I managed somehow to cover 332 miles. Mostly all slow easy miles between an 8 and 10 min pace per mile. With the occasional tempo run in the low 7's upper 6 range. Sticking to the guidelines I had set forth in the last blog entry. Concerning myself only with getting some kind of consistency back in my day to day running while trying to maintain a high volume. Not knowing if my body would be able to handle the workload.
   I called it my top secret plan #303 (300 miles in 3 weeks.) I came out of it alive thankfully. I originally wanted to just try and run 100 a week for 3 weeks. The first week was 108 miles and it felt great. So the second week I wanted to see just how many miles I could rack up. After the second week I had racked up 134 miles. To end that week though I needed to get a significant run of atleast 24 miles in. I did it but after 110 miles over the first 6 days of the week the long run left me gassed. So I decided to take the first day of the third week off. Knowing I needed only 82 miles for the week to get 300 in 3 weeks.
   The third week I hit with a little less enthusiasm than the first two. Still managing to make it just under 91 miles. Leaving me with the feeling of being worked over by a steam roller. Why would someone do this to themselves so early in the season? I don't really have an explanation or an answer other than "because I could." I'm not looking for burnout or injury. I just felt good at the time and went with it. Theres nothing I'm really gearing up for. I have the White Rock 50km this Saturday. Which I just want to go in and run hard. I Don't really care how I do overall. I'll just be glad to get away for the weekend and see some friends. Then 5 weeks later I'll be heading back down to Arkansas for my favorite race of the year. 3 Days of Syllamo.
   I'd like to do well there. Again I won't lie to you. I would like to win it again. But you never know who's going to show up. It'll happen if it happens I guess. I'm not gonna go into that one expecting to win. Just run it to the best of my ability and give it 110 percent everyday with everything I have in me. However that ends up sobeit.
   The only real thing I have my mind on this year is my big walk in the desert of the Colorado Plateau. To give too much attention to anything other than that right now running wise would be foolish. Whether I feel good about my season this year or look back on it and feel bad. Is all going to hinge on what I do out there.
   I still have to get that itinerary put together like I've promised some people I would. It's coming. I have it about half way done. Just need to finish it up and get it e-mailed to the right people. You all should have it in a week. I might even post it to a couple of the running sites to see if I can spark up anymore interest in volunteers to help.
    I'll post back in a week or so to let everyone know how things went down at White Rock. Til' then keep your feet on the ground.

Clock Keeps Ticking

2010-01-19T18:29:00.004-06:00

Man I can't believe it's already been a month since I made the annuoncement to run the Kokopelli Trail. Where did that time go and what did I do with it?? Both good questions. I'd like to have been able to say I've been training like a mad man towards my goal but I haven't really. In actuality It's been more miss thatn hit lately. It's taking a little longer getting started back up from this offseason. Just when I felt like I wanted to start running again. A head cold hit me and it hasn't left yet. I've been on medication to try and knock it out for the last three weeks but to no avail. The S.O.B. is pretty damn stubborn.
As for the initial response to my announcement. It was pretty good. There seemed to be a few people that were interested. More than enough to help me get the job done. Whether we manage to all show up on May 1ST is left to be seen. I need to get back with everyone that had shown interest in my record attempt and give them a rough itinerary. So as they can see what all is going to be invovled and asked of them. A lot of the who's going to pace me through what section of the trail will have to be determined a couple of days before. But things like my goal pace and splits. Nutrition, aide stops, clothes changes, things of that nature will be included in the plan.
I want to thank everyone that has offered to help me on this in one form or another up to this point. The reality of what I have bitten off here hasn't sunk in yet but I'm sure in the next few weeks it will. Right now I have a lot to work on. Getting some consistency back in my runnig and feeling comfortable with high mileage weeks will be the most impportant thing. I'll have a couple of well one really.. Gauge race to see where my level of fitness is here in a few weeks then. I need to hit it hard for 3 Days of Syllamo. I plan on taking an easy week after 3 Days. Then I'll start my major build up in mileage towards my trek across the desert. Gotta get out of here now. Only 101 days left until Kokopelli Trail.

The Desert is Calling Me.

2009-12-19T13:39:00.001-06:00

Well I might aswell let my big plans for the spring out of the bag. Since moving back to Kansas from New Mexico. This is one of the things that I truely regret not doing when I had the chance and lived so close. It's something I've dreamt about since I first read of the record setting run Peter Bawkin and Stephanie Ehrhart set back in May/2004. And its something that has been on my mind a lot over the past eight months. Eight months in which this has progressed from something I wanted to try. To, something I must do...

Which is why I'm extremely nervous right now as I make this announcement. I know once I punch in the words on the keyboard and see them in black and white. There will be no turning back. Whether I succeed or fail in my goal which I have set for myself. This will become something that will totally consume me. Over the next five months there won't be a moment when I'm not thinking about it.

Aside from the amount of training that I'll have to do. In trying to pull this off. I'll need a strong support group. I'll need key individuals in key positions. Crew persons, Pacers, Drivers. People who are good with map reading. People who have great organizational skills. Basically a rolling aide station. Staffed with the best people I can find. More importantly, people who are willing to take time out of their lives to come and fan the fire of someonelses dream. I'm not looking for front of the pack speedsters to help if that's what your thinking. This is going to be one big family. As such is Ultrarunning. It takes all kinds to make up a family and anyone that wants to help is more than welcome to. I'll find something for everyone. Everyone will be equally important. As it will take everyone for me to succeed.

So... Without any further delay. I'm officially announcing my intentions to take a shot at Peter Bawkin and Stephanie Ehrharts speed record on the Kokopelli Trail on Saturday, May 1ST of 2010. As it stands the current supported record for the trail is 32 hours/ 47 minutes and 41 seconds. For the entire length of the trail which spans from Loma, Colorado to Moab, Utah.

A description of the trail I pulled from the trail guide The Kokopelli Trail Mountain Bike Guide by Alex Hearn says this. Without any additional loops, the trail covers approximately 142 miles total. Most is on remote BLM land, with a few confluences on private and state-held land and a short jaunt thru the Manti-La Sal National Forest.

The terrian is classic Colorado plateau and will vary frequently. You will start off skirting the Colorado River outside of Fruita Colorado, following increasingly technical singletrack on hardpack and occasional slickrock. Later that day, the trail climbs out of the Salt Creek area to gentle hills and rolling jeep trail past enormous Entrada formations reminiscent of a moonscape from a Dr. Suess book. Past the Entrada formations the trail drops into the Cisco Desert. This is typically a less colorful section passing a ghost town frozen in time on smoother 2wd roads eventually narrowing into singletrack that dips so close to the Colorado River you can almost kiss it - a great time to put it on autopilot and score some fast miles while soaking up the desert. Once you've reached pavement at Utah highway 128, the trail crosses over into Yellow Jacket Canyon for a fun climb before a fast sandy descent to the historic Dewey Suspension Bridge, once the only passage across the Colorado. From Dewey Bridge, you are again confronted by numerous photo ops as the trail climbs - sometimes steeply - thru sage and juniper forests into Fisher Valley, passing thru several canyons and a slickrock playground if your willing.

From Fisher Valley, the trail carries the runner through an extended climb into the pine and aspen forests of the La Sal's and Castle Valley. From the second summit, the views of nearby Moab are spectacular, and its all downhill from here! Descend through rollercoaster singletrack to Sand Flats road, and choose between the traditional casual descent past the Slickrock trail or for those feeling strong, the daring descent along Porcupine Rim.

After a description like that. How could one not want to give such an adventure a shot. Combined with my own experiences from running countless hours on trails that seemingly never ended. Amongst the rocks, sand and sage. Where the wind would speak to my soul every time it blew and thunderstorms reminded me what an insignificant part of this universe I really am. I can't help but become restless in the anticipation of such an epic undertaking.

There's power in the desert. The Native Americans who lived there knew that. They embraced it in such a way that celebrated life. In an environment that would at first glance celebrate very little life at best. It's a magical place steeped with running tradition and lore. Dating back to Pre-Columbian times.

It is said by the Navajo people that. When the sun comes up. The Gods come up. So we run to greet the Gods in the morning. Running has it's roots in spiritual tradition. Since before recorded time, American indians ran -- for trade, for communication and for the spiritual belief that a runner creates a living cord between the earth and the sky.

Writing this I contemplate my own Native American Heritage. Though my last name is Wakefield. Along with being English, Norwegian and a dash of German. I am also 1/4 Mohawk from the Iroqouis Confederacy of upstate NewYork and a small amount of Ojibwa to go with that dash of German. Knowing that about myself adds some signifigance to this run. This is why it is something I must do. It's not merely an attempt at a speed record that was set nearly six years ago. It's not a test of discovering new limits and breaking through walls of impossibility. This is a rite of passage for me. This is a way to honor my heritage and give back to that which has been given to me. A gift of endurance and the ability to run.

This isn't the last anyone will hear of this. Right up until May 1ST I'll be actively recruiting people to help out with this adventure. Again, you just have to want to help. Any and all are welcome. For anyone who wants to help. You can contact me via my e-mail address http://www.davidultra49@yahoo.com/ Hopefully when the time comes I'll have a solid team together and we'll get this thing done.

OT100 Miler Reflections and Thank Yous.

2009-12-12T20:46:00.002-06:00

I'm not quite sure what happened. You see I had this humongous 26 page race report wrote up. That took me a timed 41 minutes and change to read through. I had packed everything from my past experiences with the 100 mile distance into that report. It took me 10 friggin days to write. 10 DAYS!!! I'm telling you it was filled with history, action, adventure, comedy you name it. If it had anything to do with ultrarunning it was in there.

Somewhere along the way though. Between finishing and transferring it to my blog something happened. Whether it was the length of my report. Which I was dreading having to type into the computer. Followed by all the editing I would have to do. To make it just right. Or whether it was something I rediscovered about myself. During this whole process of putting all my emotions I had for this particular distance onto paper I'm not sure.

So I decided to forgo the lengthy blow by blow version and replace it with. Basically a few thoughts about the race and a lot of well deserved thank yous.

First and foremost. I want to give thanks to the one major component that was key to my success this time around. My crew. More specifically my wife Jessica. Without her support over the last several years. Her believing in me. Believing that I could do what a lot of people thought I couldn't. Believing I had in me what a lot of people thought I didn't...

She has been there with me through it all. There when I've won and there when I had fallen well short of my goals. Most importantly she was there both times I failed at the 100 mile distance. She more than anyone knows what I've been through. There were times when I wasn't much fun to be around and made life very difficult for everyone around me. While I selfishly chased after this finish line. Selflessly though she has remained by my side and been my rock. For that I can never love you enough. Thanks for sticking it out.

I also want to thank. My buddy Lee Crane. Brother, you waited on Ryne and I all day. It's hard enough to crew for one runner let alone two. You and Jessica handled both Ryne and I like a couple of professionals. Never once losing your cool. Then you went above and beyond the call of duty and stepped up when we needed you the most.

At mile 81. After being up all day hustling with Jess from aide station to aide station. You happily jumped into action. Lacing up your shoes and guiding Ryne and I through the last dark 20 plus miles. I couldn't have asked more from a crew member. Hopefully one day I will get to return the favor.

Next I want to thank Melcher. For allowing me to sucker him back down here to take another crack at misery. Your the only guy I know with a sense of humor as sick and as twisted as mine. Which in fact was a big part of why we were able to stay together the entire freakin 101.5 miles. Without your comic relief to keep the mood positive I don't finish this race. I'm already looking forward to the shit were gonna get into next year brother.

As for the race itself. There isn't much I remember. Due to the fact that for the better part of 23 hours. My head was locked into a position that didn't allow me to take my eyes off the trail. Here's what I do remember though. There were a lot of damn leaves on the trail. Under all those leaves were a lot of damn rocks. A regular garden of rocks that God decided to plant along the entire length of the trail. There were water crossings, water crossings and YUP! you guessed it more water crossings.

Miles eight through 17 was some of the most un-runable trail I've ever had the experience to run on. At one point I yelled back to Ryne and said. "If the rest of this race is like this section. Then there is no way in HELL I'm going to finish." Luckily for me the rest of the trail was quite tame relatively speaking. "It was what it was." That became the motto for the rest of the day. it was like well, were here we might as well get it done no matter how long it takes. Towards the end of that section. I was rewarded with the only view I got to enjoy the whole day from the top of Sutton Bluff. Overlooking the Black River.

I've got to hand it to Paul, Stewart and the rest of the SLUGS for creating one hell of a monster. It was a lot tougher than I had expected it to be. I imagine a lot of other people thought that too. Which was a contributing factor to having such a low finishing rate. (44%). For the shear technical difficulty of the course alone I would not recommend this race as a first time 100 miler. On the other hand. Eleven of the top 20 finishers, finished there first 100 miler at this race. All I can say is. Just know what your getting yourself into and plan on it being nothing like you expected.

The finish for me didn't play out quite as I had envisioned it would. For years I dreamt about it going down a certain way. That there would be this huge amount of emotion attached with crossing that line. Eight years was a long time to take. To finish a hundred miler. I guess when it comes to your own dreams. There is never a cutoff...I figured because of the length of time that it took me to actually get one done. I'd cross the finish line with tears of joy streaming down my face. That Jess and everyone around her would all be cheering and crying and that it would be one big slobber fest. In contrast it was nowhere near being like that. Instead it was more like...

The last 50 yards Ryne and I were bickering about Lee crossing the finish line with us. There were some cheers. Some smiles. Then we crossed the line. Ryne and I hugged and gave each other a pound. " Like dogs do." Paul handed Ryne his buckle then Me mine. Followed with a handshake and me saying something like," I've waited a long time for this." Then a hug from Jessica. Then I sat down at the picnic table next to Ryne. They asked us how we felt? What we thought of the course? You know the typical stuff. To which we replied with the typical answers. Then we got in the van and drove back to the hotel. The last thing I remember before I fell asleep. Was the feeling of relief.

Looking back on it now. I was happy and still am with my finish. It was a tough race and only five of us finished under 24 hours. I know I probably left an hour and a half out on the course somewhere. Ryne's and my philosophy was better safe than sorry. So we did just that. Played it safe and got the finish in. We never got carried away trying to chase someone down late in the race. We just kept doing our thing. This time around the finish was the most important thing for both he and I.

I want to thank Jeff Browning for giving me solid advice. That stuck with me throughout the race and my training towards it. He'd told me that. "Before you can RUN a 100 miles. You first have to run a 100 miles." Thanks for helping me with keeping it all in perspective buddy. That's solid advice anyone can take to the bank. Considering how Jeff RAN away with the race in 18:39.

Jeff wasn't the only one that gave me advice. I received little bits and pieces of help and encouragement along the way from all of my friends. I would tell them how I felt in the days leading up to the race. In which they would reassure me that, I was normal. That it was O.K. to be scared and nervous. Everyone believed I had it in me. "You can do it." They would tell me. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and don't stop until they tell you to.

Now that it's over. Now that I've finally gotten that monkey off my back. I think back on all those years I spent racking my brain in. Trying to figure out what the big friggin deal was.Why this was such a mental roadblock for me. For the life of me I can't find a reason.

Everybody said once you finish a hundred miler it would change your whole outlook on life. I don't know about that. I don't feel any different. I learned some things about myself out there but nothing I would consider life changing. To tell you quite honestly. For me there was an eight year build up in this quest for a hundred mile finish. My Holy Grail. When I finally arrived at my destination. I felt, well. Kind of let down.

That emotion I had expected to feel. The joy, the relief, sense of accomplishment, whatever. Just wasn't there. So I suppose I'll keep searching for that feeling I'd hoped to experience with this race. Whether that means Western States or Hardrock or if I need to go and try my luck at a long trail speed record somewhere. Who knows, we'll see. I had a lot left in me at the finish line of this one so the possibilities are endless.

Before I finish up here. I want to real quickly thank everyone involved with this race. Along with my sponsors Salomon and the Great Plains Running Company. For everything they did to get me here and get me through. It goes without saying that. Volunteering and crewing is a selfless job. If it were not for your sacrifices. I don't think that we as runners. Would be able to accomplish the things we do. You offer us a shoulder to lean on when we're tired and food to sustain us when we are hungry. You patch us up when we fall apart and fill our bottles with fluid when we are thirsty. Providing us with inspiration and encouragement along the way. Making us believe that. It is possible to do this thing. This feat of physical endurance and mental tenacity. That a large part of the human population deems impossible... A reality for each and everyone of us.

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You...

Lack of Activity

2009-12-07T21:05:00.004-06:00

Sorry for the lack of activity lately. I had planned to put up my report from Ozark Trail 100 miler a month ago. I even had it all wrote up but when I got around to typing it in. I sorta lost interest. I guess the post race blues hit me at the wrong time.
I still might. I don't know there have been a lot of reports that cover what the course was like. Theres nothing I can say about it that anyone who followed it doesn't already know. Full of leaves. Rocky, rooty and so on and so fourth. The course was definitely a lot tougher than I had anticipated. Had I known that going in. I wouldn't have picked this one to get my first hundred finish. Looking back now, I think a little ignorance probably wasn't such a bad thing.
That was a month ago. Now I'm starting to feel like I want to run again with a sense of purpose. I already have next year planned out. Though I said I was never going to do another 100 miler. I have already put one on the calendar for next year. Before that happens and I travel down that road of misery again. I have something really big planned for spring of next year. I don't know if I'll be able to do it but that's what this shit's about right? Pushing yourself to your limits. I had a lot left in me after Ozark. I could have gone a lot further if I had too. So what I have planned in the spring is just the next step towards figuring out where my limits truly are.
I'll post more about that soon and will probably be asking for some help at that time. Any help will be welcomed. It doesn't matter what your skill level is. We'll find something to do for everyone who wants to help. 'Til then I need to get back to running everyday consistently and build up a huge base for the big day. I'll try and get a little something up about the Ozark Trail 100. There are a lot of people I need to thank for being there for me over the years and with me on the day I finally got that finish. So look for that soon.

28 The Hard Way

2009-10-15T09:11:00.014-06:00

Had a great run out at the Army Corps of Engineer Trail on the east side of Lake Perry. I completed the 28 mile loop in 4:37:42. Which I believe to be the Fastest Known Time. If I'm wrong in my assumption please let me know. Other than hiking I don't know of anyone running the entire trail in one shot. I have on several occasions run the entire trail in sections but until yesterday was the first time that I had even considered it in it's entirety.

I hit the trail head starting at the Grainary Saloon @ Apple Valley Farms. Which is the 6 mile mark of the trail. A location I have often thought would make a great start/finish venue if I ever decide to put on a 50km out here. Heading north from the trail head the climb up to the first ridge was pretty smooth. Another 200 yards later would be a different story. As I quickly found myself bushwhacking through naval high weeds and grass. To make things worse the grass was still very wet from the night before. This was the last time my feet were dry for the rest of the run. At that very moment I started to doubt that the time I put in if I somehow managed to finish would be far from impressive. The trail remained this way for about 3 miles or so. When I finally hit the 9 mile mark I looked at the watch and it read 31 minutes. Not exactly the kind of pace I wanted to be making for the rest of the run. The second video on the post gives you a real good feel for what I was running through.

Once I made it through the weeds of despair. The trail started running like the trail I remembered. Up one hill and down another along the lake shore. The wind off the lake was a bit chilly and it was beginning to drizzle out. I guess the good thing about it was that I wouldn't get overly dehydrated. Which was good seeing as I only had two full bottles with me and only two drop stations set out along the trail.

I made great time from the weeds to about a mile before I came out onto the road section at Kiowa Rd. That's when I was slowed down by several downed trees and some disappearing trail. Luckily when I lived out this way this was one of the sections that I frequented quite often and fell back on my memory to get me through. At Kiowa Rd. I had my first aide drop which was around mile 12. I quickly filled both my bottles and changed my shirt gloves and hat. Throwing the wet clothes in my Salomon pack. I wasn't there longer than three minutes or so.

On Kiowa Rd. I knew I had to make back some of the time I had lost in the grass and over that last mile. Kiowa Rd. is a nice gravel road that links the north side of the trails with the south side. It's around 4 miles long and with the exception of a few short hills it's entirely runnable. Which is what I did. One thing I forgot about the road section is that it's nice gravel all the way to where the trail picks back up or so I thought. Three miles down the road you make a right turn onto very low maintenance road. And by low maintenance I mean MUD!!! I stayed out of the slop the best I could by sticking to the crest in the road right down the middle.

Just when I thought the worst was over. What with the weeds, grass and mud. I picked up the trail again. Happy and relieved my happiness faded as soon as it came. Running along the trail after shaking off the mud. I noticed a rubbing on the inside of my thigh. When I looked down to see what was causing the annoyance. I freaked the fuck out. The one thing I hate more than running through cobwebs and spiders in the Summer is running through stickers, sticktites and cockle burs in the Fall. When I looked down to investigate I was floored. This was possibly the worst mugging by a bunch of worthless piece of crap weeds I had ever experienced. As you can see from the photos I took at the scene of the crime as well as the video after I finished my run.

Stopping only long enough to get the pictures for posterity and picking the stickers off from around the edge of my shorts where they were the most annoying I got moving again. Cussing the shit out of the trail at this point I wanted it to end right then and there. A voice from somewhere inside told me to keep going. If I could make it through this I can handle anything the Ozark Trail 100 could throw at me. So I pressed on. I had 3 miles or so to my next stop where I would fill my bottles and fix whatever needed fixing by that point.

Those three miles just flew by. The trail isn't that technical through here so I ran all of it back to the road crossing where I had my drop bag stashed. Again I filled my bottles and restocked my pockets with gels. Then got the hell away from there as fast as I could. About 8 miles to go now and honestly. I was feeling very tired. Tired of the cold tired of being wet and damn awful hungry. A short meadow section and through a small grove of pine trees, that if you caught the wind just right smelled as if you were in the mountains. Then I would be back along the shore with about five and a half miles to go.

Moving along and totally spacing out about the trail under my feet I had came up to a foot bridge. Running across it I was trying to keep up my cadence. Coming off the bridge the trail took a sharp right. As I tried to adjust and shift my weight the foot I planted all my weight on slipped out from underneath me and I went down. O.K. Now I was done. At this point the only thing on my mind was not falling and hurting something to where it would take me out of the OT 100. At this point I just cruised it in over the last 7 miles or so back to the car. The last mile I think was the worst. I had forgotten about the rocky creek crossing and the last rocky hill climb to make it up and over before the final run into the car. Coming down the last hill I caught site of little blue parked on the side of the road where I had started from nearly 5 hours before. I was happy that in a few short minutes my run would be over and I could get warm again.

Made it! After 4 hours 37 minutes 42 seconds and about five years of running out here I had finally completed the entire loop in one shot. It's a beautiful trail and there are some sections that I love and some sections, well; not so much... I would enjoy coming back in a little dryer weather to give it another go but fear the trail itself will be more overgrown and the task of trying to better my time would be that much harder. Unless volunteers give there time to bringing this trail back to what it once was. It'll will be lost forever. Which is a shame because it is one of the best trail we have in the state. If anyone has the chance. I recommend getting out here some time this fall or winter when the trail isn't so overgrown and the temps aren't too bone chilling cold.

Superior Trail 50 miler

2009-09-14T19:51:00.011-06:00

Well I did what I went up there to do. Which was run as hard as I could for as long as I could. All I can say about it. Is that I've never been more happy to have had my ass kicked in my entire life. What an extremely challenging course. Beautiful yet rugged. Heaven yet Hell. My legs burned every step of the way from mile 16 through 52.1. I could go into describing every little detail of the course for you but I fear that those of you that haven't had the pleasure of experiencing this race. Simply wouldn't believe me when I tell you how difficult this trail is. "So I Won't." I'll just say this. Come check it out for yourselves. Nothing I say will ever come close to doing this run justice.

Top to bottom. It was a well organized event staffed with a bunch of friendly people. Who know a little something about discomfort. If your looking for an easy late summer race. Then this is not for you. If on the other hand your looking for a photogenic course that will push you to the very limit of pain that your body can handle. Then come one, come all and try your luck in the Sawtooth's of Minnesota.

I want to real quickly thank everyone that was involved in this race in any capacity. Runner, volunteer, spectator, crew, etc. Thank You for making this event one of my Top 3 all time favorites. Also I want to thank runners Duke Rembleski, Brian Petterson, Chris Gardner, Matt Howard and Dan Horrahan???(not sure on the spelling for your last name Dan) for a great race. Way to drag my sorry Kansas Flatlander butt through the meat grinder.It was nice to be able to run with you crazy ass mofo's from the Great White North. I have all the respect in the world for you tough mutha's. I can't wait to get back up there and have you guys kick the shit out of me again.

Also want to thank Willie Lambert and Stewart and Deb Johnson for once again supplying me with more inspiration towards my goal in November. Anything is possible with the right attitude. I want to thank sponsors, Salomon and the Great Plains Running Company for allowing me to do what I do with your full support. Lastly I want to thank my very loving and very understanding wife for allowing me the time away from the family to be able to do this. I know you really wanted to come to this one and I really wanted you all to be there with me. Thank you for your sacrifice. It will be paid back tenfold...

All that's left now is for me to share some pictures of the beautiful scenery I was able to snap pictures of while crewing for the Kansas contingent on the first day of the 100 miler. I hope you all enjoy the pics. I have to get back to the recovery. Ozark Trail 100 is less than 7 weeks away now. No time to waste.

2009-09-04T08:04:00.007-06:00

Superior Trail 50 Miler coming up. Not too much thought about it. Wish it would get here already. I'm pretty tired of people asking me what I think I'll do there. Then when I tell them. They give me a response of."Well it's a pretty tough course." Saying it in a way like maybe I should rethink my goal. Like I've never ran a tough course before. I plan on it being tough. I trained with the intentions of it kicking my ass. With the exception of a few little taper tantrums. I feel more ready than I've ever been for a race. If everything comes together like a think it will then I'll have a great day. Maybe even my best ever. If it doesn't then I'm still going to have a pretty good day.

The hard training is over. I ran 45 miles two weeks ago pacing at Leadville. Which I came away from feeling great. Since then I've run everyday as hard as my legs would carry me. Running as many vertical miles of that as I could find. There weren't many miles in which I wasn't either going up as hard as I could or down in the same fashion. Some days felt great and some felt like shit. The goal was to keep my legs as tired as I could. While dancing with that fine line between good training and over training. Mentally I'm ready. That's the big thing for me. That's what usually gets me. After kicking my own ass the last two weeks. Mentally I'm ready to handle the pain of trying to run 50 miles at a hard effort. I'm ready for the pain. BRING IT ON...My only prediction is this. I'm going to Minnesota in a week to run as hard as my body will let me go and then I'm going to try and run even harder. It's just that simple. I have but one plan. Now its time to execute that plan...

Calm Before the Storm.

2009-08-06T16:29:00.004-06:00

Not much happening around here lately. Had my last race a couple of weeks ago. A little 30km nite run out at the trails of Lake Perry near Topeka. A race at which I had no business running. After a hard effort at the Lunar Trek 40 miler two weeks prior the legs just didn't have it in 'em to keep it going hard for an entire 18 plus miles over the rocks roots and hills that make up the Rock Creek trails. Alas though I had enough to finish 4TH Overall but due to some new timing software. I ended up receiving the award for 3RD Place. Which gave Paul Schoenlaub, who actually finished 3RD the 1ST Place Masters award. I tried to make it right by attempting to give my award to Paul as he truly deserved the honor. Paul being Paul though said that it didn't matter. He liked the sound of 1ST Overall Masters better.

Ever since the race I haven't had much motivation to run. Last week pretty much sucked cow patties as I tried to ramp my mileage back up to around the 100 mile per week mark up from the 70 miles per week I had been averaging all summer long. Didn't quite get it there and finished the week with just under 91 miles. This week I'm doing a little better and the legs feel like there starting to come back somewhat. Not worried about it that much. My next race is going to be the Superior Trail 50 miler on Sept. 12TH so plenty of time to get it all right by then.

In a couple of weeks I have the opportunity to pace my good friend Willie Lambert at the Leadville Trail 100 miler. The Race Across the Sky... It'll be a true honor to be able to have a chance to work some magic and get Willie a finish there this time around. He's had a bitter sweet relationship with this particular course and nothing would make me happier then to get him that buckle.

After Leadville and Superior Trail things are going to get pretty interesting as far as my running goes. I have some unsettled business with the matter of a 100 miler to tackle in November. No goals, estimated finish time or odds on my chances this time around. I just want to show up healthy, fit and ready to finish strong. My buddy Ryne Melcher will be coming down from Canada and we're going to tackle this together. I'm sure there will be copious amounts of micro brew and shenanigans involved. To make the post race atmosphere even that much more enjoyable.

2010 is going to be; well awesome. I have a few big things planned over the course of the next two years. I have mentioned some of those plans to a few people already and if your one of those people reading this. Please keep your silence a little while longer. I still have many things to work out but will get that all ironed out shortly. I'll make an official announcement in January or February next year. Until then I can't give out anymore information.

I'm super stoked for Leadville though and can't wait to see a bunch of wonderful friends. Should be a great party. Hopefully somebody will have an ice cold beer ready to put in my hand as I watch my runner take his last few steps down the Red Carpet as he's crossing the finish line.

Chasing a Ghost at Lunar Trek.

2009-07-12T17:25:00.008-06:00

Well it wasn't a major race as far as the Midwest is concerned. It was though another victory notched in my somewhat bright at times but more or less mediocre ultrarunning career. I didn't expect much from this race. As it was to be my first race since the Freestate 40 miler back in late April. Taking some time off for the family and also to let my legs rest up some seeing as I will be pushing them pretty hard August through November to finish out the year. 12 weeks is the longest break I've had between races for the last few years so I wasn't sure how they would respond if I tried to shake out the race rust all of a sudden.
Being a very low key race I didn't have to worry about competition from the other entrants in the field. So my main goal was to see if I could top the time that was put up by fellow teamate Rick Mayo at last years inaugural running. When I first saw what his time was after last year I thought that it was pretty soft. I wasn't quite sure why it had been so slow. Rick had been running extremely well at that point last year. Entering the race because Western States was called off and he didn't want to waste any of that good training. I thought maybe he just had the same no pressure from the lack of competition as I was facing this year and didn't have anyone to push him to keep his pace early on.
After the drive out to the race though I was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that I was going to have a hilly good time during the wee hours of the morning. I had to readjust my strategy a little and try and figure out a way to be able to keep my tempo up when the hills started to hurt during the second loop. My initial plan was to go out hard and try to catch up to the tail end of the 100km group of runners that had started their race 2 hours and 10 minutes before us. Then once I hooked onto the back of that group I could use each runner I caught sight of after that as sort of a rabbit. The "carrot in front of the horse", theory.
That worked out great. I got word from my crew after finishing my first 20 mile loop that the last 100km runner just left out onto his 2ND loop just 6 minutes before me. Great my first goal. Once I caught up to the runner I could see why I was able to do so as quick as I did. He was suffering from severe cramping and hadn't been taking in fluids like he should have been. It was about 80 degrees out still at 1 AM and the humidity was also around 70 to 80 percent. To make it even more unbearable there wasn't the slightest wind to be found anywhere out on the course. I asked him if he was O.K. and he said he was going to try and make it to the next aide station and see how he felt after a few minutes. That was the last I saw of him for the rest of the night. Or any other runner for a good long time. The heat was a major factor. As it destroyed over half of the 100 km field and the entire 40 mile field excluding myself but I was definitely feeling the strain and on the urge of throwing in the towel.
Finally I started catching the blinking LED lights of a few of the other 100km runners around the 50km point of both of our races. Hit the 50km mark in around 4:15 to 4:20 The 100 km guys I were passing were now well into their 6TH hour of running. Had a fairly good aide station stop at mile 34 and was out under 2 minutes. After that though about a half mile down the road the wheels fell completely off for me. The next several miles felt like they took forever. Which would later prove to be correctly so as several people who had wore Garmins measured the course a bit on the long side. About one mile per loop on the long side. Which explained also why it took me 42 minutes to run 4.5 miles from the 25km mark to the aide station at 20 miles. After I had been consistently clocking 7:20's through 25km. Making it into the aide station at 38 miles (40 miles). I left out with roughly 22 minutes to break the record Rick put up the year before. I wasn't sure if I would get it thinking there was still around two, two and a half to go. I knew there was still one more big hill to get up and I really felt like I had nothing in the tank. I wasn't going to take it easy and just miss it by seconds either. So I kicked it in and let adrenaline get me to the finish in under 15 minutes. Bettering Mayo's mark by over 7 minutes.
I just want to thank my crew, GPRC and Salomon for all their support. The gear they provide our team with is top notch. I toed the line sporting a pair of XT Hawks, Trail shorts, XT Wing Twin Belt and white Salomon visor. My shoes were completely soaked with sweat after the run yet they still managed to provide me with a blister free ride for the entire run.

RMNP Vacation

2009-06-04T11:36:00.004-06:00

Man what a great vacation I had. I got to spend some quality time with the family. Run with a top notch trail runner. Had some me time on some epic trail in RMNP and became my sons number one adventure buddy all over again in a span of six days. Words can't describe how I feel when I'm out there and pictures only slightly do justice to the experiences I have when I'm there. I don't think I'll write much other than a few words under each picture. You'll just have to come here and experience this for yourselves.

This shot was taken just below treeline. Looking northwest towards Mummy Mountain a 13 thousand plus footer part of the Mummy Range in RMNP. My goal was to get to the top but for the second year in a row I was slowed downed by the snow pack and ultimately had to scrub the summit attempt. Next time I'm going to plan to be out there all day and pack snow shoes. I won't be turned back again.

A shot of me and Salomon's U.S. team captain Adam Chase after our jaunt around the trails of Boulder. I was tired but pretty happy I was able to hang with him at a mile high. Also shot some video of our run but the light on it isn't that great as we had a storm roll in late into the run when I took it. Super great guy though and a fun run. After looking at this picture I realized how awkward we must have looked to others running down the trail. At 5'7" and 128 lbs. This guy is a featherweight of a runner.

Here's a picture off our back deck around 6:30 in the morning. Yes this is what I woke up to every morning while I enjoyed my Mountain Dew and Pop Tart breakfast. The house is halfway up Prospect Mountain. Lake Estes is below in the background.

T-Bone and Izzy. She was such a good baby for her first trip away from home and seemed to fit right in with the whole enjoying the great outdoors theme we had going for the week. T-Bone has become quite the big brother. I don't think I'll have to sweat too much about anybody messing with his little sister when they get older.

Here's T-Bone hunting pesky ground squirrels with his trusty sidearm. That damn toy gun went everywhere with us that week he shot everything from Mountain Lions to Magpies with that thing and to think they say there is too much violence on T.V. Preposterous.

Here's a nice picture of a nice sunny patch on the Black Canyon trail going up to Lawn Lake. Standing here all you could here was the wind in the trees.

On the way back from Tristan's and my climb up to the Eugenia Mine on the Longs Peak trail. This is by far my favorite mountain in Colorado. Though I still have a few more on my list yet to climb. So Far. This is my favorite mountain. Just look at it. How could it not be?

Here's my little angel. I told you she was a happy baby. I shot this while her and I were waiting for everyone to come out of a store in downtown Estes Park. Either I was real funny or just funny looking. Probably a little of both.

Look out world. Only four and he has such a tenacity for putting himself through feats of endurance like trail running and climbing mountains. I swear I didn't ask him to make those serious faces. He just kind of does them on his own. Kid loves to climb though. Later that week he was hiking on a easy trail with his grandma when they came to a hill. He started running up it away from his grandma. She told him not to run it cause she didn't want him to get tired. He stopped in a huff and replied. "Grandma, I'm a mountain climber. Not a mountain walker." God, if that isn't priceless then I don't know what is...

I wish this shot had better light to it. I think I can mess around with it some more on the computer. But it reminds me of those paintings you see of kids sitting outside of some field house or football stadium dreaming about being able to play inside of them someday. I just told him he wasn't quite ready for that one just yet. Followed by me saying maybe when you're six years old. He's dreaming big and I love it.

The Freestate Fandangos'

2009-04-27T14:56:00.006-06:00

Well that's what I'm going to call it anyway as the 3RD running of the Freestate Ultra marathons turned out to be more of a dance than a run. After a week and a half of fairly dry and warm weather I was surprised to see that much of the course still had quite a bit of standing water and mud on it. For once I really don't have much to say about a race. So I think I'm going to keep it fairly short and sweet this time around.

Coming into Freestate I didn't have many expectations other than to run faster than I did here last year but after running through that first loop I knew that would be a challenge. Still somehow after it was all said and done I managed to do so. First Loop was way to fast I thought that even with the humidity I could maintain my goal pace for the day. Boy was I wrong. After clocking a 2:40 on the first loop I was hit with the humidity bug. From mile 22-32 I was in a huge funk. I couldn't get my legs to do what my head wanted them too. It was weird, almost like my legs had butterflies kind of a feeling. I was just thankful that my head didn't have butterflies. It knew what I was there to do and I just kept drudging forward. Stopping at the aide stations just long enough to get bottles filled and then down the trail. Around mile 27.5 Dan Dehlin finally caught up with me and went around as I was walking out a cramp.

I couldn't believe how much mud was still on the course and after the first time through it became even more sloppy. "I hate mud now." Along with the extreme heat and extreme cold. I think that is a typical response to anything though, as a result of situations where you turn yourself inside out trying to do something special.

Just after the KUS aide station on the last loop heading for home now my stomach still wasn't right. I had an uncontrollable urge to hurl. So I did. A couple of times. After that I felt a little better but still not quite right. At this point I started to look over my shoulder at every switchback. Waiting to catch site of the eventual winner of the 40 miler.

I hate leading races from the start. Not that I do it that often. It's just a feeling I'm not that comfortable with. The main thing about it is that you never know how far behind you everyone is. It becomes a game of mental toughness right from the word go. Just one more thing to think about when you should be doing nothing but worrying about the feedback from your body. Countless hours and energy wasted on pure speculation.

Since throwing up I had nothing left in me. I just kept telling myself to keep moving forward. If I could try and relax until I get to Kyle and Caleb's aide station. I might have regained enough to put in one last effort. I made it. Three and a half to go now and still nobody in sight. "What the Hell." Just how much of a lead did I have over the guy in second. I was maybe at best only getting 10 minute miles out of my legs and the only people I've had any contact with were the marathoners.

Well I wasn't going to wait around any longer. Lets get this bitch done. I'm ready to get home and see my family. So I ran everything I could until my heart rate would spike due to dehydration. Walk for a bit then repeat as many times as needed til' I cross the line. Finally the finish line came into site and crossed it just under the six hour mark bettering my time from last year by three minutes.

I lied on the ground for a few minutes watching the finish line. Then rounding the corner like he was shot out of a cannon came the second place 40 miler. Blake Hearn I believe his name was. He crossed in 6:02 something. They told him at the KUS aide station that I had 15 minutes on him. If it were me and I heard that I would have just started running for second with only nine miles to go. Not this guy. Blake kicked it in and started charging hard. By the time he reached the Amos/Chatfield Oasis he reeled in 10 minutes of that fifteen. Good thing I made the decision to put in that last effort or I'd be posting a different story now. Still he managed to run about 45 seconds faster per mile than me over the last three and a half and knock down the gap even more. I felt like it was two races. I won the first 50km and he won the last 14km.

As for the other races all I know is that Dan Dehlin won the 100km and Ivan Marsh won the Marathon. Not sure what Dans overall time was if it was close to his time from last year. Ivan took the marathon in 2:55 though. Damn fast for all that mud.

I just want to thank everyone involved in the race this year. It keeps getting bigger and bigger or at least it feels like it. Ben/Kyle excellent job you and the Trail Nerds do putting this one on. I also want to thank Salomon and Great Plains Running Company for supplying me with the gear and support needed to keep on keeping on when the chips are down.

Next up for me is some rest. I'm not superhuman. I can't run 15 Ultras a year with so much as a sore muscle here and there. So I'm going to enjoy a mini off-season. Ride the bike a lot. Vacation at the cabin in Estes Park. Spend as much time with the family as I can. Get my boy his first mountain summit. (At the ripe old age of four.)Then around mid July I might show up somewhere. Start to ramp back up so I can start off the fall campaign in full gear. Good luck to everyone racing hard this summer I hope everyone reaches their goals. For me it's the couch AHHHHH!!!

Quick Update

2009-04-13T00:40:00.002-06:00

Here's a quick ramble about what has been going on lately. Since 3 Days I've kind of gone closed camp with my training. Isolating myself from the groups. So that I can focus on my recovery. In years past I have found that it takes me around 6-8 weeks to recover from a hard effort. So I wanted to take advantage of every minute of everyday leading into Freestate this year. I passed on Freestate in 07' because I just felt wiped out from 3 Days and last year I wasn't in the best of shape. I was hesitant about running it hard because I wasn't sure that my leg would hold up. Plus I had a bunch of shit going on between the ears that had no buisness at a race. So I settled for 3RD place in the 40 miler.
A different story will play out this time around. For some strange reason I've managed to stay off the disabled list and have been getting faster every race as well as recovering faster between races? I've just been kind of going with the flow and letting nature run it's course. Kept the training volume as high as possible, without going too far over the invisible line of no return. Since 3 Days I've managed to log just under 295 miles of running in the last 21 days and 326 miles in the last 28 days. Well ahead of my goal of 360 miles logged before one week out from Freestate. I'm in full tapper mode now for the race with just a couple of more mid-mileage tempo runs to come.
Had a great run out at Lake Clinton on Saturday in an effort to better gauge what I can expect on the 25TH. There was more mud than I have ever seen before out there. Still I managed to hold just under my goal pace for the 20 plus mile loop despite the sloppy conditions. I wouldn't mind if it would dry up some but fear that getting wet and muddy isn't going to be avoidable. So I'm just going to embrace it and get dirty as quick as possible. My prediction is that the 40 miler is going to run more like a 45-50 miler for most people and that the 100km will be a nightmare. Slower than average times are going to be put up and maybe even a slightly higher drop out percentage. The best thing for everyone would be that it would just rain buckets the day of the race. That way the mud won't stick. Hope everyones stayed healthy and are ready to take on the 3RD running of the Freestate Ultras. See you all out there.

3 Days of Surprises

2009-03-17T12:01:00.011-06:00

Well lets just start this one with. "There is always next year." and the year after that and the year after that.... Everyone knows how bad I wanted to win this one this year. This is the race where I put all my eggs. No matter how hard you train. How you change your diet. Do everything right. Stay injury free the one thing you can't control is who shows up to the race.

That was the theme for this years race as there were a lot of new faces in the crowd. Returning champions from last year were in the field of starters Josh and Ashley Nordell. This dynamic duo of trail running is top class through and through and I am glad to call them friends. Also returning to give it another go around were Paul Schoenlaub and Stewart Johnson going after their fifth consecutive finishes.

After having seen the entrants list for this years edition of 3 Days I'd figure that my stiffest competition would come from Josh Nordell. Looking at his winning time in the Overall from last year was like a carbon copy of mine in 2007. I knew that I was trained and ready this year both physically and mentally. Either way it ended up. It was going to be a slobber knocker to the very end. Turns out though I should have done some better pre race research. As this year we were introduced to a very talented runner from West Virginia by the name of Adam Cassadey. Who managed to fly under every ones radar coming into the weekend. Turns out that Adam had a 3RD place showing at last years Massunutten 100 miler. Translation..." You don't get third at Massunutten because your shitty on technical single track..."

After chatting it up with all the wonderful folks I've gotten to know so well over the past couple of years down there. Willie Lambert and I decided to head over to the cabin and get everything unpacked and in its place for the rest of the weekend. Once we got unpacked we decided to eat some supper at the Anglers Resort. At dinner I was chomping at the bit for morning to come. Usually when I get like that I know I'm ready to tear up a course and in a big way. Willie kept asking what he thought I might try to do on day one. I honestly didn't know. Paul Schoenlaub and I had discussed a few options the week prior but those kind of things you never really know about until you get right in the middle of it all. My final answer was that I didn't know. I'd have to wait and see how things played out. Then I would decide then and there. The good thing was that this year I would be able to handle anything that was thrown at me. Or so I thought.

Day one was a shortened version of the 50km. Ice storms from a rough January left the trails down there resembling that of a Wichita trailer park after a tornado. Debris from the ice storm could be seen everywhere you looked. With the exception of more than a few miles of forest service roads the race pretty much stuck to the Syllamo Trail System.

The stage started out at an honest enough pace. I felt like we could keep it going at that pace for around 8 miles or so then the pack would thin out. John Muir. Just running the 1ST and 3RD days was leading up the first big climb of around a mile and a half in length. Close behind him was Josh and even closer behind Josh was myself. Josh kept asking if I wanted to go around him but I kept telling him I was fine right where I was. I told him I wasn't going to let him get to far out of sight. By the time we hit the first aide station at Gunner Pool I was in second. Josh had to stop for a nature break and I kept running. Though I wasn't going balls out I kept it reasonable because I felt it was way too early to put in an attack. Especially being the first day. It's tradition to go easy on the first day there but this year I would soon find out that all bets were off.

I flew through the Gunner Pool aide station only to drop off an empty gel packet. I had enough in the bottle to make it into Barkshed. The temps were still in the upper thirties and I wasn't really sweating all that much. Something happened on the way to Barkshed though. I just got into the mother of all grooves and went with it. At Gunner. John was 6 minutes up on the field but between Gunner and Barkshed I put myself in the middle of that. In No Mans Land. 2 and a half in front of the pack and 2 and a half behind John. At Barkshed they told me to head down this Forest Service Road for about four miles to the turn around. That's when I found out the course would be short. About a 100 yards out of Barkshed the race got fun for me. As one of those climbs from my dreams hit me right in the face. It was around a mile and a half long and had just the right pitch to it. I dropped it down into granny gear and cruised up the whole damn thing never going slower than a 10 min pace. It just felt good. Once I hit the top there were a few short rollers. Followed by a half mile downhill that I just floated. Then another mile long climb to the turn around.

Just about to the turn now. I saw John heading back my direction. I asked how far to the turn. He said not far. A minute or so. Sweet! I pulled the gap down under two minutes and was still feeling good. Hit the turn. Grabbed a few Pringles and filled the bottle. I was there maybe 15 seconds. Got back out on the road and started counting back to the rest of the field. I saw Josh and I was out of the turn around 3 minutes now. Next came a couple of runners I wasn't sure who they were. One of them though was Adam Cassadey. Running in fifth or so was Paul who was about 16 minutes behind me. At that point I knew I had done some serious damage on that hill section to the rest of the overall stage runners. Some of them were already walking. That made me feel great.

Trying to resist the great feeling I had. I pulled back on the reigns a bit. I had another three miles of this road to get down. I didn't want to trash my quads for the last 10 mile section and the rest of the weekend. So I just put it in cruise mode at that point. If anybody pulled me back then so be it. I would at the very least have enough to stay with them and nobody would be running away with the overall on the first day.

The next four miles were uneventful. I made it back through Barkshed inbound and had a few easy miles in there. Then as I was winding back around a switchback just under a waterfall. I heard foot steps. It was Josh and he was running like someone lit a fire under his ass. I guess seeing me at the turnaround motivated him enough to get his butt back in the race. At that point we had about 10km to go to the finish. He went around me and I just tucked in behind again. We came back through Gunner Pool inbound close together. There, though I just took a minute to make sure I had enough of everything before I took off. If Josh caught me then I figure the others weren't too far behind and I'd hate like hell to completely blow up in the last five miles and lose my ass 15 minutes. Once I was good I just cruised it into the finish. With about a mile and a half to go I had a guy get close. He had gotten within 200 yards of me but I didn't sweat it too much. I was at the top of the downhill drop into the finish area and in the clear. I crossed the line in 3:38 something. For what I felt like was a great 28 mile time considering the course had about 7500 ft of vertical gain to it. Doing the math at the finish line Josh who ran a 3:36 and change figured we were running around a 4:05 50km pace had the course been a complete 50km. Which would have made that about 47 minutes faster than I ran the first day last year.

Completely wiped out I started getting the carbs back in me with copious amounts of New Belgium Beer. Then headed down to the creek to soak the wheels. So as to minimize the destruction of the day. After the creek I took a hot shower at the camp ground. Ate some pasta. Then headed back to the cabin to make some potato soup for some more calories. Willies wife Karen and Jess met us at the campground a little earlier. So we got them settled in and then built a nice fire in the cabin. Paul, Stewart and Deb all came over for some soup and we sat around talking about how we thought things were going to go for the next day. One of the things I remember from that conversation was that the thought of a sub 8hr 50 miler would be tough to do. I thought that maybe the winning time for day two would be around 8:30 hrs. So with that in mind I hit the sack around 9PM to get as much sleep as possible.

Day 2 - The alarm clock was buzzing in my ear at 5:00AM. I quickly shut it off to not wake Jess up. I then proceeded to go threw my pre race rituals. Willie and I sat down and being half awake tried to carry on a conversation over a fine Tennessee Pride sausage and egg biscuit. When we headed out the door I thought I double checked to make sure I had everything I needed for the race. Right as we were getting to the campgrounds I realized I had committed the first of two SNAFU's I would perform for the day. I had ran out of the cabin and left my water bottles sitting on the kitchen counter. CRAP!!! I didn't have time to head back to the cabin and get them before the start of the race. So when we hit the campgrounds I went on a frantic search for someone to help me out. I didn't have to look far. Steve Kirk hooked me up with a couple of Nathan handheld's. Though they were minus the ever important bottle part I felt like I was halfway there. Heading back over to the car to see If by chance I had maybe left any in the back from a previous training run I ran into Andy Emerson. Who bailed me out with a trail runners version of an economic stimulus package in the form of a water bottle.

Now I was set. What else could go wrong I thought. Why is it people always say that when something goes wrong. Shouldn't we learn. It's almost as we're inviting something else TO go wrong. Well I said it and I never learn so something else did go wrong. This stage had us running across the Syllamore Creek. Which if anyone doesn't know it's a waist high plus water crossing. I made the decision to wear what I like to call the Karl Meltzers' a pair of shorts that have a lot of pockets on them for carrying all kinds of stuff in an effort to reduce my dependency on aide stations. Being that this was a 50 mile I had more than my usual amount of crap stuffed into the pockets. What I failed to realize was that I also had taken the belt out of that pair of shorts. When we got to the water crossing everything was going great Adam, Josh and myself were all running close together. When I came out of the water crossing I found myself unable to run because my shorts were down around my ankles. This was a problem. A major problem. I didn't bring a spare pair of shorts and Nobody had anything to tie up my shorts with. The thought of running another 44 miles while trying to hold my pants up was not an option. Well I had about 6 miles to figure something out.

That was one of the longest 6 miles of trail running in my life. I tried not to think about how mad I was getting. Running with one hand on the waist of my shorts and the other holding a bottle. I just kept running. I knew I had to figure out something quick or my weekend would be over. Making it back to the start/finish area I immediately ran over to my car to try a find a solution to my problem. The hardest thing I did all week was to try and keep my cool while I was rifling through the back of the Suzuki to find something to keep my pants up. With each passing minute I found myself getting closer and closer to that boiling point. I just kept telling myself that 8:30 would win it today and I was still on 8:20 pace at that point. Finally after exhausting all of the ideas I thought would work. I found it. The answer to my problem. There. Staring into my desperate eyes was a Dillons plastic grocery sack. I quickly ripped the sack in two and proceeded to thread that S.O.B. through the belt loops of my shorts. Cinching the sack up tight and tying it with a double knot I was gone with the wind. I asked a guy standing near the trail head if anyone had come by here. He told me a tall guy with blond hair ran through a couple of minutes ago but that was it.

O.K. Well that's not so bad. That means that my second "F"up only cost me about 5 maybe 6 minutes. Hell it could have been a lot worse. On the climb out of the start/finish area I regained my cool and started getting some calories back into my system. Once at the top of the climb I told myself that the break was over and that it was time to get to work. Take my time. Run my race. Don't try to get it back all at once. 10 seconds here a minute there. Just run my race and they would come back to me. If they didn't. Well then, SHIT I probably wouldn't have won today anyway right. Still I felt good and I wasn't even close to throwing in the towel yet.

From that point until around mile 25 it was a lonely run. Eat, Drink, skip the peeing part that could wait. Refill bottles, eat some more. Keep the arms pumping up the climbs and so on and so forth. I had gotten word that just before Gunner Pool outbound Josh had kicked a big rock in a big way and that he might have broken his toe/toes. I felt bad for Josh but if that was the case he was still able to run and run strong. I don't think I gained one inch on him from the start/finish to Barkshed. The gap was still around 2:30 minutes. It wasn't until around mile 25 when I finally caught up with Josh. It was heartbreaking. You could tell he was in a lot of pain, still he wouldn't give up. I looked at his shoe and it was soaked in blood. Almost like in the movie Prefontaine when he ran the race with seven stitches in his foot. I pulled up even with him and told him I heard about the bad news. He just said. Well, you got me today Dave. I told him to keep his head up and hang in there. At that point I knew I would probably keep my second place in the overall but it sure was a shitty deal in the way it came about. For months I had dreamt about it coming down to Josh and I on the last day. A real gentleman's duel if you will. Now because a stupid ass rock it wasn't to be. With each passing hill I was putting another 30 seconds into Josh's' slim lead over me. However I was still in second place on the road and at the last time gap I was in second place in the virtual overall. Adam was up the road running like his shoes were filled with helium.

Now I thought maybe I could catch him. If I could just hold him close. The last time gap I got was at Barkshed at mile 20 and he was like 7 minutes ahead. Since I had put three minutes on him the first day and he was seven ahead. He was really only in the lead by around 4 minutes or so. If I could somehow manage to pull back a few minutes then It would be everyman for himself on the last day. I kept running a smooth pace. It was roads for the time being and I had to make a move here. If he got back down to the rocks and the trail with too much of a gap I was screwed.

Finally I saw Adam coming back my direction. That put a smile on my face for a brief moment. Until I asked how far to the turn. Thinking his response would be similar to Johns from the day before. I was floored when he said about seven minutes. You could hear the wind leaving my sails. Coming into the turn around I had already settled for the silver medal. Steve Kirk, Billy Simpson, and John were there though and they said to keep running hard. Billy said to keep it up anything could happen and he could fold his cards at a moments notice. John told me to get the HELL out of there and just run. So I did. Like Forrest Gump. I just ran. 20 miles to go now. I had 10 more miles of road. If I was going to get any of that time back it would come right here right now. So I put in what was to be my final drive of the day. Pushing all the way back to Barkshed at mile 40. At one point I had taken back four minutes around mile 35 or 36 coming from the runners I was passing on the way back in. When I got to Barkshed I got the real news that he was about 16 minutes up.

In a way it was actually kind of a relief. I knew there was no way I could make that gap up in the last 10 miles of rocky trail on him. Also I knew there was no chance I could get the element of surprise on him the next day and make up that kind of time in a 20 km race. The pressure was off. From the turnaround at mile 30 I figured I had around 20 minutes on the guy who slipped into third for the day. So I just took a couple of minutes and changed my shirt, enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate and ran real easy to the trail head. Once I hit the trail I loosened up and cruised it in. I started to run a little faster and faster with each mile. I hadn't noticed though.

When I finally looked at my watch with around two and a half to go it read 7:32:?? Then I started doing more math. CRAP! again. I could go under 8:00 hrs on a course that even though had 20 miles of road. The lack of trail was made up for with 12,500 foot of vertical climb. So I decided that I at least had one more thing to run for this weekend. Myself.. Kicking it in I ran the rest of the way with the exception of a short and very steep ATV trail. That last mile and a half downhill was like a freaking roller coaster ride. I was running so damn fast that my eyes were starting to tear up and it wasn't even cold out. Throwing caution to the wind I took every risk that presented itself. I didn't care this was for a SUB 8 BABY!!! Coming off the trail the watch read 7:55:?? with 150 yards of field to cross I hit the tape in 7:56:?? Adam was already over by his tent. Which confirmed what I had already knew that the overall for me at least was over this year. He crossed the finish line with a 7:32:??. Awesome run from an awesome guy. Keep a watch out for this dude. I wish him all the best as he returns to Massunutten to try and run a sub 20 there.

Post race of day two was more of the same. Beer, soak in the creek. Get the calories back in and get to bed. This night though I slept like a baby. I knew I had made it through another 3 Days. Barring any unforeseen injury or accident. I was also able to prove, that my win in 2007 wasn't a fluke. Not that anybody really thought that. It just made me feel better about it after all the crap that happened to me here in 2008.

Day 3 - Finally the easy day that we were all hoping for. This was the way I'd prefer it to be. Conceding first to Adam I told him the night before that we could just take it easy and cruise the 20 km together. Of course he agreed. Ashley had her race sowed up for a third year in a row. So she decided to tag along. We also had some comic relief in the form of local Arkie and friend Paul Turner. The four of us ran together the entire 20km similar to the way the peleton rides around the Champs - Elysee's on the final day of the Tour de France. It had the feel of a true victory lap. The surprise for the day was that Paul Schoenlaub was around 6 minutes out of the 3RD place spot for the overall to start the day. We told him to go out hard and get ahead of the guy he needed to be ahead of and we hold off any attacks that came his way. Paul had it in the bag though. The guy that was in third told us his legs were gone for the day. Paul usually takes pretty good care of himself in these long races. So he was able to sneak onto the podium for a 3RD place in the overall and 1ST male masters. Also I would like to congratulate Deb Johnson on a fine finish taking 1ST in the women's masters race. Congratulations go out to Stewart Johnson and Willie Lambert for strong finishes and congratulations to all the finishers of this years 3 days of Syllamo. It was again a tough year but a very rewarding year as it always is when you finish a race of this magnitude. For me it's time for a short rest before the Freestate Ultras. So I'm going to go enjoy what's left of the good pain I have left in my legs from this past weekend. See Y'all out there.

A Long and Winding Road

2009-03-06T08:46:00.006-06:00

Well it's that time of year again. Old man winter has shown his face for what I hope will be the last time. The trails are changing from a frozen silent wasteland to a wet and slippery bobsled run. Which means one thing for me, 3 Days of Syllamo. some people have Western States and others have Leadville marked on their calenders as the coup de gras run of the season. For me it's 3 Days. The very first time I heard of this race from friend Paul Schoenlaub I was intrigued. It has everything I love in an ultra crammed into three days of sadistic punishment in the Ozark mountains of North Central Arkansas. Sweet single track, water crossings, gnarly descents, big climbs. Along with 26,000 foot of vertical gain without the thin air to contend with makes this race the Alpha and Omega in my book.
Over the last couple of years I've had bitter sweet success with this contest of human endurance. In 2007 winning the overall by taking second place on the first stage and first place for the second and third stages was a Cinderella like feeling. I only went down there with the hopes of finishing the suffer fest and to try and finish in the top five. For some inexplicable reason it was just my weekend to run well.
Well how do you top a performance like that. That was the question for 2008. My answer was to train harder and be in even better shape. Giving myself the best possible chance of defending my title. As the entries for 2008 started to roll in. I grew more and more nervous each week. The best from the west started lining up one by one to take their shot at stage running. My work was definitely cut out. So I started to push even harder leaving no margin for error.
Eventually the breaking point came for me three weeks before the race even started. I suffered a bad fall on the first loop of what was to be my last long training run before tapering. The result of that fall was a torn Vastus Medialis in my left Quad. Leaving me absolutely no time to recover. Still arrangements had been made. Vacation had been taken and I owed it to Steve Kirk to at the very least show up and try to finish. Winning was out of the question. The look on my face was anything but enthusiastic that weekend. Walking around. Sporting the number 1 on my bib. I felt like an impostor, a paper champion. Everyone was going to be gunning for me and I couldn't do anything to stop them. Some things I took away from last year was that life is funny and this sport is very humbling. The very minute you start walking around thinking you're the shit somebody emerges from a dark hallway and takes your legs out with a lead pipe.
Fast forward 365 days. As I sit here regurgitating my mind puke onto this blog for the whole world to read. I'm cautious about what I want to say. It's been a long and winding road. It's been two years since I've came into this race ready to go. Healthy, uninjured, physically and mentally ready to take on the challenge that is 3 Days. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to win this. So I'm just going to say it. "I Want To Win This." Does it mean I will. "Hell No." Anything can and usually does happen. Still I'm going to try. Whatever the outcome of next weekends race. I'll at least feel like this time I've done everything I could to do so. If it isn't good enough then so be it.

Vasectomy = Personal Best...

2009-02-22T05:37:00.005-06:00

The title pretty much says it all. I decided to do the Psycho Wyco 50km at the last minute. I wasn't sure how I'd be feeling a week after the operation. Turns out it was no big deal. I'm gonna keep it short and sweet for this report. Everyone has already written quite a few good reports about this race there really doesn't need to be anymore.
First things first. The race directors and their faithful following of Vols were once again amazing. Top notch. Pre race was chaotic as usual met up with and talked with several friends at the start/finish shelter. That I think is the highlight of any race for me. It makes all the training you put in for these things worthwhile. 1St loop was way too fast for me. I hadn't intended on going faster than 1:35 but teammate, friend and little shit Rick had us on pace to go way under 1:30. I let off the gas just enough to bring it in around 1:28. Not being in any real hurry and my only goal for the run was to just finish I pulled way back on the reigns during the second loop. Coming in at 1:47. I look back on it now and think that was a little too much. I think I could have gone 1:36 or so and still been O.K. on the last loop. 3RD loop was the muddiest I'd ever seen. It felt like I had run a couple of extra miles with all the slippin' and slidin' but for the first time I wasn't cursing the course and actually having a blast in all the slop. Made it to the Amos aide station on the last loop with 22 minutes and change left to break my PR for this course. I covered the last section of trail including the infamous 3 Hill section in under 19 minutes. Usually it takes much much longer. Crossed the finish line all smiles. BadBen congratulated me and I told him I should get a vasectomy the week before every race if it meant a PR. Just kidding that would suck ass now that I think about it.

Hung out for a bit at the finish talking with friends then I headed over to the restrooms to change into some dry clothes said my goodbyes and then headed to D&B's for some philly cheese steak egg rolls. Yummy!!! Although I had a blast at this years Psycho. I'm going to really try and stick to my guns next season and not run a race until the weather warms up. Maybe BadBen could push the race back to mid April then I could go under 4:40. We'll see everyone in April for Freestate. I'll be heading down to 3 Days next month in hopes of getting some redemption. Trainings been going good for that and should be right on track for the ides of March.

Nothings changed. Everythings changed.

2009-01-20T18:33:00.002-06:00

I promised myself before I wrote this out that it would not be a long post. Really so much has happened since the end of last season and though this year hasn't even taken off yet. I have no clue as to where it's going to end up or where me and my family will end up for that matter. An uncertain road lies ahead. I know it's all for a reason. The only things I am certain of are this. 1. I love my family and they mean more to me than anything in the world. That's the one team or race I can't quit. Every other thing can be put on hold. 2. Running is going well. I've changed some things around and came up with a new routine that has me running faster than I've been running in the past few years. I'm very positive that with what I learned last season that this season will be one more step towards achieving my goals.
As far as the family goes. There doing great Tristan is good and bugs me everyday about going to the mountains so he can climb one. He might soon get his wish... Isabel is great. We couldn't have asked for a more perfect baby. She's already figured out how to get her dad to do anything she wants. Jessica has recovered fine and is ready to get out there and do something.
Hopefully in a few more days I might be able to shed some light on all the stuff I've hinted at but right now its too early to put my foot in my mouth. The racing schedule looks like this. Though I wouldn't put any bets as to whether I'll actually be toeing the starting line. It all has a lot to do with the outcome of the next few days.

2009 schedule (very tentative)

Rock Creek 10km

3 Days of Syllamo. Have to make it right after last years DNF.

Freestate Ultras. Haven't decided on distance yet.

Rock Creek 10 miler.

Rock Creek nite 20 miler.

Pace Willie Lambert at Leadville 100.

Patriots 9 Hr and 11 min run.

Rock Creek 50km.

Like I said all very subject to change. I hope everyone is doing well and their getting geared up for an exciting 2009 season. Later.

Rock Creek 50km/ Fall Recap and What's Next?

2008-10-29T02:59:00.005-06:00

Alright. Where to start? First I want to send out a great big humongous freaking congrats to my buddy Caleb Chatfield for coming back from injury after a year and a half hiatus. To not only win the 2008 edition of the Rock Creek 50km but own the damn trail in course record fashion.
It's been a long wait for Caleb and I can really appreciate what he accomplished despite the fact that it was my record that he broke. Sort of a code amongst thieves if you will. I knew weeks before the race that he would win and do so in record style. Though you can't tell Caleb that. His modesty abounds and though he deserves the spotlight he never feels like he has to be the center of attention.
For myself this was never really a race. Since Heartland my right foot had been hurting a bit. Not sure from what. Whether I turned it just right on one of the huge chunks of flint rock that are strewn along the roads of the Heartland course. Or if it's just and overuse injury from all the road training I had done leading up to Heartland this year that caused the pain. It's all just yesterdays news now as I am eagerly looking forward to some long over due family time.
Caleb and I ran together for I guess the first 10km only because he was holding back. My foot started to bark at me around that point. So I decided to give the reigns to Caleb and let him reel in the guy that was around a minute or so up the trail in first. Stepping to the side of the trail on a small uphill. Caleb dropped it into overdrive and was gone in a matter of seconds. I got to say this about Caleb and not to sound like a suck ass but watching him run. The way he makes it look easy is a true joy. I'm thankful for every mile I get to race against this smiling little trail assassin. I say smiling because that's the last thing you see before he proceeds to leave you choking in a cloud of dust, rocks and broken branches. Though I haven't given up the dream. That one day I will be able to give him the race I know I have in me. To really go head to head without the thoughts of resigning myself to a second place finish. I'm content with watching him do his thing which is becoming I think the best young hope we have as far as ultra running in the area.
The next 13 miles or so for me were spent debating whether I should struggle on to the finish or drop and start my off season early. Reaching the aide station at mile 20.2 I decided to call it a day knowing hopefully there will be plenty of chances in the future. To forgo pain and struggle on. In pursuit of that cutoff, that buckle, finish or whatever it is that drives some of you to the brink of existence as human beings. I'm not at that point in my life where just finishing the race is as good as putting in a solid performance. So I took my 6TH D.N.F. with a smile and a cold beer. Next season will be here before too long and I want to start that one healthy and injury free.
Looking back. This season wasn't as bad as I thought and I had a really great fall campaign. finishing 4 out of 5 races. Tallying up two 3RD' places a 2ND and a 1ST along the way. Spring was a wash. At times I had started to show some signs of my old self but it was riddled with injury. So I never really got it together. I cut way back and took some family time over the summer. Which I think helped me put my life in perspective. When I started training for the fall season. I felt like I had a renewed sense of drive and determination not to fail. There were a couple of races where late I felt I was going to finish off the podium. Causing me to take a gut check and forcing me to find that anger or purpose to not yield one more inch to the guy behind. All in all it was a sweet ride. I'm happy and hopefully next season will be my best. Again I'm not the greatest runner in the world or even the Midwest. If sometimes I come off as arrogant or cocky or whatever then you must not know me on a personal level. Those that know me know I have pretty high standards. Sometimes lofty and unrealistic. True. About as crazy as Columbus thinking the world was round. Still you have to try. Like momma always said. "Shoot for the Moon and if you Fall Short. You'll Still be Amongst the Stars."
What's up next? Well as some of you know Jessica and I are expecting our second child sometime around the first of the year. So the next couple of months will be solely dedicated to making her as comfortable as possible. I'm still going to get some running in but for the next six weeks it's going to be all easy stuff. I have to let my foot heel and I want to be good and sure it's ready before I start to destroy my body all over again in the spring. There is some trail work I want to do out at the Governors mansion trails. So this is a good time of the year to get that done since the woods aren't overtaken by spiders anymore.
I'll start cranking it up again around the first of the year. We'll see how things are on the home front at that time. I'll try and make it over to K.C. for the Psycho Wyco 50km in February. Though I'm not going to be in shape to run it hard. I say that but the truth is no matter what shape I'm in that course is always hard. I don't think it likes me too much.
March I'm going to be heading out to the Pacific Northwest to visit my buddy Ryne Melcher and hopefully get into the Chuckanut 50km. Then in April Ryne's coming back down here to run the Freestate 40 miler. After that family time. August will find me pacing friend Willie Lambert to another Leadville 100 mile finish. Starting off the fall I'm not sure what I want to do. Either Flatlanders 6hr or Patriots Run a 9hr and 11 minute timed ultra on 9/11. Probably Heartland 50 again I want that sub 6:45 and I know I can do that there. Then maybe finish it off with the Nathaniels 6hr if its around if not then I'm not sure what. Of course this is all subject to change.
Well I guess that's it for now. No new news to speak of. I'll post back time to time just so you all know I'm still alive. I hope everyone has a great holiday season and that everyone stays safe out there if I don't see anyone this winter. Take care and may the forest be with you.

Heartland Weekend Pics.

2008-10-16T08:15:00.001-06:00

2008-10-16T08:14:00.000-06:00

2008-10-16T08:13:00.000-06:00

Heartland

2008-10-15T16:57:00.003-06:00

Well its come and gone now and I had a great time. Friends and family were not in short supply. This year we had the pleasure of showing one of Canada's best some Midwest hospitality. I met Ryne last year at Sunmart and after running about twenty miles together we pretty much hit it off. After Sunmart we started planning on getting him down here to run some on the prairie.
Jess, Tristan and I picked up Ryne from Kansas City Thursday morning and got started showing him some of the finer things Kansas has to offer. After a few hours in K.C. we decided to head over to Lawrence. Ryne really wanted to pick up some Kansas souvenirs. What better place to do that then Lawrence right? Another couple hours in Lawrence and we headed west for Topeka. Being a vegan we tried to accommodate the best we could. Being Kansas though I reminded him that meat was king but we'd do our best. After hitting the health food section at Dillon's we got back home put away the groceries and headed over to the Governors mansion for some trail running Kansas style. He was surprised at how pretty the trails were around here and that he thought Kansas was flat. We didn't run long five maybe six miles then headed home.
Friday morning we were up at the crack O' nine. Loaded up the car and shot some hoops in the driveway while we waited for the in laws to come and pick up Tristan. We finally got out of Topeka around 12:30 and started the drive west to Cassoday "Prairie Chicken Capitol of the World???" I told Ryne to pay attention once we got west of Emporia that the trees would disappear. He and Jess fell asleep before we hit Emporia. He woke up about 15 mile west of Emporia and the first thing he said was "Shit!" "Where did all the trees go?"
Pulling into Cassoday we headed straight for the community center to get our packets and take some pictures before we headed over to the Battlecreek aide station to set up camp. Once we got camp set up we walked around and took a few shots of the seemingly endless prairie then headed over for the pre race dinner. At dinner we met up with Steve Kirk. R.D. for the Three Days of Syllamo race down near Allison Arkansas. Everyone enjoyed dinner as we sat and talked with good friends Stan and Chrissy Ferguson, Paul Schoenlaub and Willie Lambert. After dinner we headed back to camp followed by Steve who also decided to camp with us. We stayed up for a couple of more hours shooting the breeze and then hit the sack. With a full moon and the coyotes singing us to sleep it was a perfect way to end the day.
Saturday was there before I knew it and I was up before the alarm went off at 4:30 AM. I went over to Ryne's tent to see if he was up and then started to get ready. We got to the start around 5:40 AM just enough time to pin on my number meet up with my parents who came down to crew and toe the starting line. A few last minute instructions from the race director and we were off.
It was unseasonably warm at the start. About mid 50's or so and humid. I started feeling a little guilty because I told Ryne that we'd have good weather and that it shouldn't get over 70 for the day a week prior. Well mother nature was about to make a big liar out of me and how. The race started and we were off into the dark. I knew it was going to be hot out so I wanted to get as many miles behind me before that happened. That's the last time I saw Ryne or anyone until just before the turn. When Wynn Davis who was setting a blistering pace caught up with me just before my turn around at Teterville. Not to go into details but my race wasn't going as planned and I had to do some rethinking about what I wanted to accomplish for the day. As hot as it was becoming out and as windy as it was I knew the course record was out of the question. I don't do well in the heat anymore so I started to pay close attention to how much fluid and electrolytes I was taking in. Through all the things that happened that day. I somehow had enough to cross the finish line first. With a time of 7:39. Second place finished in 7:56 and Third came in at 9:03 obviously the heat and wind took its toll on the entire field including the 100 milers. As several runners in the 50 and 100 dropped due to the conditions.
Ryne didn't get that 100 finish in that he wanted. He ended up dropping at Ridgeline 63.5 miles. Still he had nothing to feel bad about. The week before he ran the Run for the Toad 50km in Ontario, Canada and won it in 3:43:10. It was pretty awesome that he got 63 miles in after running that kind of time the week before. We headed back to camp but before we got there we stopped in at the Mirage aide station and enjoyed some of Bad Ben's Home Brew. After a couple of beers there we headed back to Battlecreek for a few more and helped out before Ryne slipped into a 10hr coma. He asked me to wake him up at midnight so we could work the night shift and drink beer but I just let him sleep. I can't even imagine keeping the racing schedule he does. Every weekend a different town. Sleep I'm sure is a rarity. I stayed up to help as long as I could before falling asleep in a lawn chair under a blanket with a cup of hot mashed potato's in hand. Another perfect way to end a day of running.
That morning we broke down the aide station and our camp then hung out a bit talking with Gary Henry who was sweeping the course. Taking in the views the mild overcast morning had saved for us. Finally home we unpacked the car and went back to sleep. That night was spent watching Sunday Night football. Feasting on Chipotle and of course more beer.
Monday morning we drove Ryne back to the airport and said so long. Already having planned his next adventure on the prairie. Looks like he'll be heading back here in April to take on the 40 miler at Freestate. He said he had a great time and enjoyed all the hospitality that he received. Anytime any of us want to come up to his neck of the woods is more than welcome and he'd show us how they party it up Canadian style. I've already started working through the logistics for making a trip up there next spring to run the Chaukanut 50km in March. Anyone interested let me know and we'll make a Kansas invasion of it. I took some picture of the weekend also but I really wanted to get the report up first before I got too busy. So I'll post some pics later.

A Quick Congratulations and My Road Back From trail Running Purgatory.

2008-07-21T17:08:00.008-06:00

Well its good to see everybody smack dab in the middle of their summer seasons and running so well. I've sat in amazement over the past month or so with how awesome everyone has been doing. From my K.C. Trail Nerd brethren Kyle, Tony, Rick, Caleb and so on. To the perennial front runners like Kyle Skaggs and Tony Krupicka. It truly has been a joy to watch and read.Everybody's success in the past several weeks has inspired me to rearrange my own training at the same time renewing my enthusiasm for this great sport. In the process of doing this though. I've had to take a long look at my own racing over the past year and a half.
If there is a cancer. Then the first thing you need to do is cut it out, Right? Where to start though was the hardest thing for me to try and figure out. A couple of post back. Olga V. left a comment that gave me the starting point for answering a lot of well, unanswered questions I had. She ended her comment by saying this. "The attitude I have about my running today was a lot better than the attitude I had a year ago under similar circumstances."
This started sort of a domino effect. Bringing forth a whole bunch of wisdom that I had received from friends and competitors over the years. Since Olga had given me a starting point. I began reading all of my old posts in search of the reason for my disappointment and frustration I'd been dealing with for so long. Why was my attitude so much better today than a year ago?
Where did it all start to go wrong for me? The answer to that question can be linked to a specific date in time. The one defining moment that I feel, changed it all for me was when I crossed the finish line ahead of everyone on the final stage of the 3 Days of Syllamo. Securing my place as the overall champion for the most grueling weekend of racing I have ever endured to date.
"With great power comes great responsibility." or so it was according to Peter Parker's uncle. I felt so powerful in light of what I had just accomplished. Truly believing I had taken my running to the next level. Upon returning home from that wonderful weekend in the Ozark Mountains. The local praise I received only helped to further swell my head. I was on top of my small insignificant world for the time being and I felt unstoppable. Shortly after the jading effect wore off the burden of trying to live up to my own expectations as well as the expectations of my closest friends became too much for me to handle. Poor showings and D.N.F's soon followed if for no other reason than the fact that I just choked when the chips were down.

Was I really scared of success or was I afraid of losing a stupid race? Both. I was scared of both. It started becoming very easy for me to make up one excuse after another as reasons for my poor performances. The truth was that I was way too hard on myself and set way too high of expectations along the way. The harder I tried to reach my lofty expectations the further I ran myself into the ground. Running was becoming a job that didn't pay shit and one I absolutely hated going to. Still I continued to train hard. Thinking that at any moment I would snap out of whatever funk I was in. Once again becoming the picture of ultra running consistency I used to be. My good friend, my closest friend Paul Schoenlaub always used to tell me that most of the ultra runners he knows are undoubtedly over raced and under trained. I'd be damned if I was going to be under trained. so I tried to beat the system. If I could accomplish what I did on a 70 mpw average than just think of what I could do on 100 mpw. Running anything less than 80 mpw became a slap in the face to my level of fitness. Things seemed to be going well too. For the longest time I kept a high average mile per week around the 90's but as with most all of us. Excluding the few freaks of nature out there that can elude injury during such intense levels of training, things slowly started to fall apart. The high mileage weeks began to place a strain on not only my body but my family life. My irritability increased and my immune system decreased. Reducing me to nothing more than an empty shell of the husband and runner I used to be. Injuries soon followed. Accompanied by an ever compounding frustration.

"When the going gets tough the tough get going." Or so I thought. The injuries I sustained were nothing more than little nagging injuries. Enough to notice but not so much as to stop me from running. Little speed bumps in the way of progress. A strained hamstring here, a hairline fracture there. All signs that I should have been dialing it back. Instead I ignored them and continued on with my journey to find rock bottom. Oblivious to my crumbling world around me. My running continued to fall apart like a snowball headed for hell. When rock bottom finally came. It came at the worst possible time. Two weeks before my return to 3 Days of Syllamo. I took a bad fall on a patch of ice during a nice easy tapper run. At first it had felt like a really bad cramp. However when I tried to get up I knew it was much more than that. A distinct and very sharp pain in my left leg just above the knee was screaming at me to sit down and get off my feet. Dragging my ass off the trail and back to my car I immediately called Paul Schoenlaub and told him the bad news. A trip to the doctor a few days later confirmed that I had torn a muscle in my Quad and the diagnosis was that I should sideline myself for six weeks. Feeling ripped off that a months worth of 100 mile weeks was now all for nothing I continued to pay absolutely no attention to the writing on the wall. I made the trip down to 3 Days in spite of my injury. Unable to stay with the front runners after only 11 miles on a leg that was 50% at best. I accepted my fate. Knowing I had a long road to recovery ahead of me. I continued to train with a damaged leg and a damaged ego. Though nowhere near my pre injury 100 mile per week level. I had a decent run six weeks after at the Freestate 40 miler but it was overshadowed by the fact that my initial goal was to do the 100km there. Nowhere to go but up. After Freestate I slowly started to feel like my old self again and was anxious while at the same time focused towards the possibility of finishing my first 100 miler at Kettle Moraine. June 7Th came and in a fashion I've become all to familiar with I D.N.F'd at the 100 mile attempt. Overall I felt good. I just wasn't as mentally prepared as I thought I was to handle the inclement weather that was presented to all the runners that day. Still I toughed it out to the 100km mark and was awarded an official 100km finish. Which is a distance I had also never finished before. At least I was able to take home some satisfaction from that. Since then I've had a lot to think about. Plenty of overtime at work has also given me plenty of time for said thinking. Where do I go from here? What unfinished goals do I have left on my table? Before my wheels completely fall off. I still have a few good races left in me but I'm not going to kid anybody anymore. I feel more tired with every passing year. I've got to figure out how I can be happy while at the same time keeping my family happy before fading into the ultra running background. Where DO I go from here? Well I know where my dreams want to take me. For the last couple of years. All I really wanted to do was catch on with a team. Make a bunch of new ultra running friends and get some really cool free gear along the way. With the help of Team Salomon/GPRC I've been able to accomplish that. Ever since joining the team though I've felt like nothing more than dead weight. All of my fellow teammates have been running up to there full potential even exceeding their expectations on occasion. Where I have only been able at best to fall well short of all my goals this year. I feel like an impostor and a thief. The same way I felt after winning the 3 Days of Syllamo in 2007. Past victories and impressive performances can only carry you for so long and I believe I am at the end of that particular road.

Over trained and over raced now by my own standards. My legs are exhausted and mentally my enthusiasm is day to day. I do have a renewed enthusiasm for this sport as I mentioned earlier but nowhere near what I used to have. When I ate, slept and breathed it just a few short years ago...

The goals I've set are I think within my capability of reaching. In order for me to accomplish them. I've had to look at what it will take to do so.The first thing that has to go though is the continual 80 plus mile weeks. Along with around four to five Ultra marathons per year. By cutting out that many Ultras from my schedule I will assuredly lose my ride with Salomon and it will be up to Willie to decide if he wants to put all his money down on a horse that only runs four to five ultras a year. At the same time though I feel that this is exactly what I need to come back from the land of the ultra running dead. The stress of not being on a team will be a huge weight lifted from my shoulders and I can get back to racing without any outside expectations except for that of my own conscience.

I truly wish that I could run more than four or five Ultras per year but I just don't have it in me anymore. I don't think I ever had it in me to do more than four to five a year. That's neither here nor there now as it is all water under the bridge and I have made the decision that's best for my family and myself. To just run a few extra ultras a year as training runs has never been a concept that I was to keen about. It would not be fair to race management or myself for that matter. After all its a race and it should be treated as such. I know that for most everybody out there. There is more to it than that and I respect that. I wish I shared the same point of view as you. The communing with nature. The camaraderie of friends. Its all a very important part of this sport. For me though the communing with nature comes from my long training runs alone as I've always done and the camaraderie with friends comes before and after the race. That moment in time between the starting and finish line is for me and is there solely to appease my own appetite for self destruction. My opinion on that will never change.

Wow! What a relief. I feel much better now that I've gotten all that out into the open. Now I can look towards the future with the same excitement I had when I first started doing this eight years ago. I don't know for sure what tomorrow is going to bring but I do know I'll have a lot better attitude about it. For what its all worth I feel like I've finally broke out of my slump and I'm starting to have fun again. The road I just returned from was long and at times very difficult to continue down. I was able to tough it out though and I'm very happy to say that I didn't get lost out on the trail somewhere.

Thanks to everyone who has stood by me and put up with my shit over the last year and a half. You will not be forgotten. You are all living proof that the ultra running community. This close knit family of trail running fanatics. Is what makes this the greatest sport on the face of the planet. Take care and I'll see you all out there somewhere.

Chip Off the Old Block.

2008-06-25T10:21:00.004-06:00

This is just a quick vid of my son doing one of his favorite things. He started imitating music videos I'd watch on the internet when he was not quite two. This is what it has turned into. Moments like this make it hard to get out the door to get those runs in.

Week in Review.

2008-06-25T00:08:00.004-06:00

Yeah me. I can't believe I'm actually sticking to my game plan for once and am not cranking up the mileage so soon after a race. This past week I did around 48 miles of running with an additional 10 miles of walking. This is where its going to stay for another couple of weeks. Then I'll start the big build up for the fall.
Action around the house has been the theme for the week. Getting everything ready for the new baby has taken a lot of time. Buying paint, Deciding on how were going to paint the room. Whether its a girl or a boy I think we've decided to go with an adventure motif. Pictures of trails and trail runners mountain climbers and adventure racers. Get that bug in their ear early on.
That's about all for now. Congrats to all the hearty souls that got a hundred finish in at Bighorn this past weekend. Also big snaps to Kyle Amos for notching a top ten there in a stellar time of 23:27 and change. You're one hell of an amazing runner dude.

Whats Next?

2008-06-19T01:27:00.003-06:00

Well now that Kettles over and done with. Whats next. Where do I go from here. After doing some minor wound licking for a day or two. To nobodies suspicion. I decided I wanted to give the Psummer Psycho 50km a shot again. I was at work when I made the decision. Wrote Bad Ben asking him what day for sure it was going to be on this year and then told him I'd be there ready to have some fun. After firing the e-mail to Ben I ran over to put in for the time off on the schedule. To my dismay there was already too many people signed up for the same day off. So my request for the day was denied. SHIT... I e-mailed Ben back explaining I acted to late and apologized. This sucks. I really feel good right now and I just want to run. I'm sure I could find another race to jump into somewhere but with gas prices the way they are these days and trying to save money with the new kid on the way Psummer Psycho was the logical choice.
This brings me to the question of what next? So this whole past week I have been trying to figure out what it is that I really want out of this ultra running thing. Since running 100 milers obviously isn't my thing. What other goals did I have out there that I haven't yet achieved. With the time frame that I have before the new baby comes. The physical condition that I'm currently in and the fact that I'm only getting older each year. The list of crap I wanted to do before it was too late ended up being very short.
The first and only goal on my list. Was that I want to run a sub 6:45 50miler. A goal of which I think I could obtain this year if I play my cards just right. There is a couple of races I have in mind for this to happen. Though I haven't committed to any yet. I want to make sure that I am completely healed up from any little nagging injury that I have at this time. Though I'm back into my running program and have no fatigue from Kettle. I don't see a big rush to get out there and crank up the miles. There are still some things that I want to work on with my mechanics. Bad habits that have developed. Overcompensation from other various injuries. I want to take another 3 to 4 weeks of around 50 miles per week running to get it all worked out and running smooth again.
No races until September. I modified my training schedule to focus on getting my cruise speed down to where I am comfortable and happy with. All quality miles logged. Hopefully none of which will be junk. Long runs spaced appropriately apart. Key easy weeks with some road cycling built in. With enough interval sessions to make you throw up.
Its not just enough to do the work but I had to take a serious look at what I was putting into my body as well. The first thing to go was all the refined sugars and saturated fats. I came up with a pretty good diet I think I can stick to for awhile anyway. Its not perfect but Its better than what I'm used to. The thing I want to really focus on is being able to recover after hard workouts. In the past I've been like "whatever"after the tough ones but now I want to take complete advantage of the recovery process. Making sure I reach the starting line of my goal race ready to run and run well. That would be nice for a change.
Enough of that. I want to give a big shout out to all my friends that are heading up to Bighorn this weekend. Kyle, Tony take care and look out for each other. Give 'em all hell boys. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed. To everyone else stay safe and healthy.

Kettle 100's

2008-06-10T09:36:00.001-06:00

Let me start this off by saying that anyone who completes a hundred mile race has gumption. A mental tenacity that I haven't yet mastered or somehow wasn't born with.
I entered the 2008 Kettle Moraine 100 miler with the intentions of completing the race no matter what happened. Though mother nature had a lot to do with me deciding to just call it a day and take the 100 km finish. I think that had the weather been perfect I would have had trouble making it to the finish line.

I wanted to do this again because I had a score to settle with myself from seven years prior. When I DNF'd at the Heartland 100 miler. Again though the distance beat me. Leaving me wondering if I have what it takes to finish a 100 miler. To tell you the truth there is no wondering to it. I've decided that for the best interest of myself and my family that I neither have the time or desire to try and tackle this distance again.
It amazes me that some people can go out and do hundreds like there nothing more than a long training run. People I know and run with all the time have the ability to persevere when the going gets tough and hammer through to the finish. Its definitely a

mental thing for me as I know I have the physical ability to do this. I just get so bored when I'm out there for more than 12 hours. When that happens its over. I lose any desire and love I have for running at that moment and can't wrap my head around another 6-10 hours of running.

As far as the race went. There isn't much I can say. It was hot from the start with lots of humidity. The meadows were brutal. Apparently from race direction they were more brutal than in years past. I'm not sure about that. They were definitely hot but I managed to get through them both times and in good shape. I had some stomach problems from 16 miles through 33 miles but I worked through that also. I just backed off the pace and started up again when the stomach started processing. Then came the monsoons. Oh the wonderful rain we'd been praying for all day. Came for me at around the 50 mile mark. Man did it ever come. I think we got 4 inches in an hour. Then it let

up to just a nice sprinkle for a moment around The Tamarack aide station with 5 to go to the 100km mark. Leaving out of Tamarack I heard the faint sounds of Tornado sirens through the dense Wisconsin forest. I thought That couldn't be what I thought it was. When I got to the Nordic aide station at the 100km mark with the help of my friends the mosquito's. I asked if anyone had heard those sirens. They confirmed what I thought I was hearing and said they had three tornado's touch down near the Scuppernong aide station. Luckily though everyone was back from there and the aide station was closed.

That was enough for me to call it a day at that point. I learned quite a bit about myself this weekend too. So for me I shall never attempt a 100 miler for a long, long time and I'm o.K. with that. Fifty miles is still a long way to run and that's what I think I'll focus on. A stage race now and then sprinkled with the occasional 50km or some other oddball distance. I would still like to finish a 100 miler but I think that day will come when I'm towards the end of this ultra running thing and I don't care so much about it taking 30 hours to get through.

2008-06-01T20:38:00.002-06:00

To finish catching everyone up with all the fun stuff that's been going on lately. Here are some more pictures of some good times I had out in Ft. Collins. I put in a black and white of Twin Owls rock in RMNP. A couple of my boy and me checking out the trail scene out at the Horsetooth Reservoir and a couple of that monster pizza we enjoyed in old town Ft. Collins. I wasn't joking about how big that damn pizza was. Crap its have the size of my son.

I'll be heading out to Wisconsin next week for the Kettle Moraine 100 miler. For those of you that don't know this is my first attempt at that distance in 7 years. Needless to say I am a bit nervous about the whole deal. The last time I tried the distance it was the Heartland 100 miler. In which I jumped in the race with both feet and found out just how hard and how much I had to learn about the sport of ultra running. Though by my own stupidity I attempted this feat of endurance on only two weeks of rest from the very first Ultra I'd ever done. I definitely had the balls for this sport but my brain was severely underdeveloped.

I finally decided to call it quits with my first dance at the hundred mile distance at mile 83. When my body was just not able to take another step. It was a miracle that I even made it that far. Aside from only having two weeks of rest on my body from the first race. I ran the entire 83 miles on nothing but Little Debbie Fudge Rounds and Fruit Punch Gatorade as my only source of calories for 18hrs of running. Relieved to have dropped out at the 83 mile mark and after my crew helped me to the car. My body started shaking uncontrollably. Probably from dehydration and hypothermia. Either way it was enough for me to realize that I'd had bitten off more than I could chew. The whole next week my body was so wrecked from the ordeal that I had to take a week off from work. The only time I moved from the couch was when I had to crawl to the bathroom because my legs still didn't work.

Having shared that with you all. You now know the reason why I haven't tried this distance sooner. I guess I should have used something better to describe how I feel about next weekend. I should say I'm freaking terrified. Which I am. This time around though. I feel my chances of finishing and actually hitting my goal time are very good. I'm seven years wiser, stronger and mentally tougher. This time I know what I'm getting myself into and I know what awaits me after the sun goes down.
I'm not looking for motivation or words of encouragement from anyone. I'm more than motivated enough. I just wanted to get it off my chest. Like some kind of pre event primal scream. I don't like to keep it inside. If I'm worried about something I'll let you know.

If I'm not I'll let you know that also. No, this time around I feel pretty confident I'm going to get some redemption out there on the trail next weekend. Even if it is only a personal redemption. I may finish in the top ten or I just may finish dead last but I will finish. At least when I do finish I can take away the fact that, finally I can call myself a real ultra runner. I've always felt bad about myself when people ask me what hundreds I've completed and I had to tell them none. Then to sit there and look at them with that confused look on their face.

That's about all for now. I'm done running until the race. I want to make damn sure I show up to the race with my legs in the best shape they can be in. Nothing I do now is going to help me and I'm not going to lose anything by doing nothing. The hays in the barn so to say. I just have to stay limber and focused. Come Saturday shit will take care of itself. Until then I hope everyone stays healthy and safe. May the trails be kind to all and all be kind to the trails.