Recreation Through Endurance

Each runner has their ideal distance. The distance at which they feel their best during and after the run. One at which it's inside their comfort zone until they push themselves outside it. Long enough that later they can feel they did something, but don't have to recover the next day.

Today, I ran a combo of Fendley Station and Old Mill Trails at Pocahontas as my last semi-long run before the OBX 26.2. Originally, two of these was on the schedule but after some consideration and some residual fatigue, I thought doubling up would hurt my marathon more than help it. This beautiful loop of fireroads is lonely with hardly ever another soul on it. The leaves covered the gravel and were falling thick enough I could reach out and grab a couple without breaking stride. Swift Creek was up from the recent rains and the turtles knew it. The earth tone browns and oranges and greens caused me to forget I was surrounded by sprawling suburbia.

Last week, before the sun went down earlier than the week before, I ran from the house to North Trail, across Belle Isle, up Buttermilk, and behind Maymont. After a couple of lazy days, I felt strong and pushed comfortably hard. I could've gone faster, I enjoyed it as a fun run and not as training of any sort. The river was up like it should be and rolled over the rocks instead of around them. I rolled over the hills and around the trees, dodging the rocks. I waved to two other trail runners and no cyclists on a perfect weather day. Except for those two dudes and the occasional peak of downtown through the trees or dead kudzu, I was alone with my legs and the hills and the trees, downtown.

Last month, I snuck out of our cabin while Liz was having coffee for Mount Rose in the Sierra Nevadas. An out and back rugged trail ascended 2000 feet from the pass at 9000' to the peak at 11000'. Decked in black pants, black shirt, black hat, and black gloves with bright orange Tevas, I left the parking lot at 45 degrees on my last day in Tahoe. I wrapped around a sandy mountain, rock hopped a waterfall, and ran-walked up the valley between two mountains. At the saddle, I ran what I could but mostly hiked up the steep switchbacks towards Mt. Rose. Closer to the top, the wind was stronger and colder. I passed four hikers in parkas coming down just before the trail turned to wind-packed snow. After the last false summit, I walked sideways to the top leaning forward for fear I'd get blown off otherwise. The view of the lake, the mountain range, and Reno went on forever, which I enjoyed from behind the only rock big enough to shiver myself warm. After the trail turned back to sand and rocks instead of snow, I ran as fast as my stabilizer muscles would let me. Past the parka-hikers, down the switchbacks, through the valley, over the waterfall, around the little mountain, and back to the road.

Each, 10 miles.

I had so much fun this last weekend watching Liz and our friends race! I won't lie to you, I had the itch, the regret, the wish that I'd brought my bike a couple times. After the races started though, I ran all over that course cheering on Liz, Paula, Brandon, Christine, Brent, Francine, Paul, and others. With as many races Liz watched and helped me with this year, I was really happy I had the chance to return the favor.

Results aren't out yet, so I don't know how anybody did, but from what I saw, Liz had her best race yet. She was solidly first at the start, made every climb that I witnessed, had some good passes, and looked strong throughout. She was definitely exhausted at the end, but deserves a high five.

Of course, I also grabbed a bunch of footage, so I hope you enjoy. ...and for all of you that raced, I don't know what to say other than "Good Job."

Interested in a full quality version? Contact me.

Due to some technical difficulties, I didn't get as much video or pictures as I would've liked. Still, I hope you enjoy.

Seems to be longer than the last one I knew about... ohwellohwellohwell

...
Every chance he has to set himself on fire,
he just ends up doing the same thing.

When teenagers or adults get in trouble for drugs, they have to go to a counseling session to determine the extent of their drug use and what help or treatment they need. One of the questions that they ask is "What is your drug of choice?" I guess if the answer is alcohol or marijuana then the problem is less serious than if it's heroin or cocaine. (Side note: I had to spell-check all four of those.)

Endurance junkies have a list of actual and perceived, natural and man-made drugs and supplements they use also. Electrolytes, ibuprofen, endorphins, aspirin, vitamins, bars, adrenaline, gels, and powders to treat pain, cramps, and energy loss or aid recovery. The natural ones are the best. That adrenaline rush during a super fast downhill. The flush of heat and pain that leaves the body and the emotions that replace them after crossing the finish line.

Runners in particular have the "runner's high." I started running seven years ago and a few times I would've swore it existed. Mostly, I think it's either a lie or a myth. At best, it's a rush of the body's chemicals that make running hurt less for just a minute or two. ...maybe.

If it does exist, I think it'd happen during LSD. Long, Slow, Distance. A running workout for marathon training to get in base miles that build up to 20 to 24 miles that train the body for endurance to be able to complete the distance come race day. Today, I did a long run between 20 and 24 miles. Since they were on fireroads at Pocahontas, I'll have to take the bike out to measure the actual distance. No runner's high. Just a long, slowly increasing amount of pain. My electrolyte drink and gels helped keep it back somewhat, but it's just a known element of the workout. Afterwards, it did feel good knowing I completed the distance even if it's hard to walk the rest of the day.

What's my drug of choice? I'll take the Finish-Line-Flush. ...but not without the LSD first.

The Poor Farm races are like pasta. ...or electricity. Liz said "Even though they make me nervous and I hate them before the start, I wouldn't feel right without it."

A roadie friend of mine one said he hated time trail races, when I pointed out that all mountain bike races were time trials. No drafting, no pack finishing, just the racer and their bike going as fast as they can. I'm not sure that's as true as I once believed and no matter how many races one does, they can always learn more.

First, everyone has a pre-race ritual and it's interesting to see what people's are. I saw guys on trainers, guys rubbing Chamois Buttr down their shorts, guys riding the road. Brent got a kick out of me saying "I'm not so much into warming up, I'd rather hang out and chat." Still I did a couple out-and-backs on the road, but not enough to interrupt my conversing time. I've found my pre-race ritual is whatever keeps the stress low.

Still, in the Richmond Multisports races, they have this thing called the Le Mans Start. No one likes it, except maybe myself. You run about 50 yards, pick up your bike, then hop on and ride. Ideally, this spreads people out so 30 highly-anxious and fast-moving cyclists don't hit a 10 inch strip of singletrack at the same time and it almost works. I have a little secret as how to get the most out of it, but you're going to have to ask me to get it. Otherwise, it's a little too public and I'll have to come up with something else.

This race, out of 31 dudes, I was 3rd onto the single track with Brent just behind me a spot or two. Perfect! An Sport2 in the front, then a fellow Sport1 in front of me. Goal: Stay with the S1 and wait for him to tire out. This was huge for me. Not only did I know how I started, but I could track where I was at in the field. Much different from the Spring Cup where I wiped out on the first bend and lost about a dozen places. Within 2 miles, the S2 dropped back saying he just wanted a good hole shot but didn't want to maintain the front. Cool with me as long as I tracked the 1st place S1.

The guy in front of me and I talked between breathes a little. Enough to let him know I was in the same class, trade names (his: Brandon), and for him to tell me I was the one to beat. I took that as a compliment and a challenge up until I wiped out and landed on my left knee. Chris McMillan and Brent Williamson passed me, but I got up quick. About mile 4, I caught back up and passed Brandon, but he stayed on my wheel. Just as we reached the field back to the timing tent, he passed strong in the open field.

The 2nd lap, I was starting to feel a little better, stronger, maybe even warmed up. I caught Brandon again, told him who it was, and he actually told me to pass. What a sportsman! I took the lead again and put some time between us. This was the time I was feeling it. I was just 1.5 perfect laps to winning the S1 race again when my left knee contacted the ground, along with my forearm and handlebars. I got up fast enough to maintain the lead, but Brandon was on my tail again. I tried to wear him out for the rest of the lap, but he flew past me in the open field again. I took a little time to do a Gu and think about how to bring this thing in.

I knew I couldn't win it in a sprint. I knew I couldn't count on an accident like him sliding out down a hill. I'd just have to catch up, pass, then finish on a hot lap he couldn't keep up with. Through the twisty stuff at the beginning, I was catching up. Each time I saw him through the trees, he was a little closer. I felt there was still a chance, then WHAM, I wash out on a turn and I knew I'd never see him again. Kevin Cox passed me and I hung on his tail for most of the rest of the lap, but I couldn't catch up to Brandon.

I finished 2nd. 1:28 behind. 3rd was only 30 seconds behind me, but I never saw him during the race and due to a scoring mix up, he probably thought he was 4th and left early.

Mountain bike races aren't time trials. There are tactics and strategy, though not much. As much as everyone hates it, the Le Mans start is dire. Also, being barely behind is better than leading. Most of all though, don't wreck. Losing some skin is rough, but not nearly as bad as a few seconds and that intense rhythm. Still, fighting for first and losing it is much more fun than winning the class without knowing where you're at. Besides, rumor has it if someone wins too many races, they get kicked off Team Lummox and that would be worse than losing my linguini.

Also congratulations to Liz. Not only did she have a good race, but she was recognized and got her pick off the awards table for doing all 3 RMS bike races! I may have a racer-girl on my hands.

Results
Adrien's Photos
Due to dead batteries and technical difficulties, I may not have photos or video this time. I'll append accordingly.

I was asked to help represent RSR (Run, Sweat, Repeat) in their 2nd team event but couldn't bring myself to give up the Poor Farm Fall Cup the same weekend. Chris put together another great team though, and here's what he had to say:

Where do I begin? The 24 Hour race was SO much fun. From my perspective, this race was very refreshing after the logistical monster of BRR. The trail was about 4.75 miles. Most of the other runners their agreed, 4.75 miles of trail is at least 5 miles of road. The trail was really nice. No huge hills (they started feeling bigger on our 4th and 5th legs), beautiful scenery and it was well marked.
I'm loving the support our team gets! Courtney came down to hang out and ended up managing the team again. She stayed up all night to make sure we were up and ready when our turns came. Ann and Paul came by and hung out at our campsite for a while! We were so happy to see you guys. Andrew came out with Brittany and hung out most of the day. He even managed to catch 2 fish in the little pond! Tyler came by and assisted in the kitchen duties. :)
We made a lot of friends out there. This is where the 24 hour format rocks. The team stays together, you hang out with the other teams all the time. We met some amazing runners. I overheard 2 of the solo runners say they had not brought food. So I talked with them and our team went to the store and got them supplies. Turns out one of the guys, Brian, is on Team Montrail. The other is 17 years old and sponsored by Brooks. Brian lives in Northern VA but knows a fellow Montrail runner who just moved to Richmond and would love to run with us! He was just training and ran about 8 laps. He found me before he left and gave me his email and blog.
This other kid, Michael, is a future Dean Karnaze! (sp?). Seriosly, he ran 103 miles and we marveled every time we saw him how fresh he looked! We later found he was going after the junior 24 HR record of 111 miles. His 2 hour nap killed those chances, but he is doing a race in a few weeks to get it done. Remembe the name!
John was definitely the camp master. His camping supplies made the time so much better. The coolest thing was a propane powered heater that came in very handy when the tempetures plummeted with the sun. Gosh, it was cold! Mark Junkerman and his crew made the race one to remember. It was a real family like atmosphere.
We met another team from Northern VA who told us about a similar 24 HR race near Quantico. They ran it in April and there were 10 teams. So we made plans to help promote each of these great races. Finally, the facilites at this race were incredible. Hopefully we can field a couple of different teams next year. Maybe even a team or two in the ultra category!

I hate conflicts of interest.

What can I say? The trip was better than Liz and I expected. Tahoe was beautiful, the races were hard, the scenery was spectacular, our cabin was cozy.

When Liz and I arrived in Reno, my mom and sister were already waiting for us. We picked up the car, which barely fit all our stuff and drove into the Sierra Nevadas and down to our cabin in Incline Village. We did packet pickup, then retired for a pasta dinner and movie, which should be a pre-race ritual.

Saturday morning, before Jana and Liz woke up for their 5k, it snowed. Who knew the weather would be different at 6300' and surrounded by 10,000' mountains? They were a bit nervous about the cold and wet feet. Reminding them that they started an hour after the Xterra Nevada's (sport-level tri) swim start didn't seem to help.

By the time we got down to the race venue, most of the snow had melted and the sandy soil soaked it up making for good conditions. The course was twisty enough that my mom and I were able to hop around to several spots to watch Liz and Jana compete. They had to climb in and out of ravines, dodge boulders, cross creeks, and negotiate logs. They both crossed the finish line smiling and ran hard enough that they were sore the next day.

After the morning races, the four of us spend the afternoon hiking down a trail in Lake Tahoe State Park on the Nevada side to the lake. This was the first time any of us had seen the lake up close and it was beautiful. 12 miles across, 18 miles long, and an average depth of 1000'. It's also the 3rd clearest lake in the world. Combine that with the coarse sand, boulders cropping out into the water, and the mountains behind it made it really a scene.

I had a feeling the banquet Saturday night would have a lot going on, but I didn't really know what to expect. After the racer briefing, we had our selection of salad, salmon, chicken, potatoes, and lots of other food. It was very nicely prepared and was very good.

At the beginning of the presentations, Kahuna Dave, who's mostly known for firing the canons, talked about what the organizers were trying to accomplish when they started the Xterra series in 1996. They wanted something more than just a competitive atmosphere. They wanted something fun, something people were excited about rather than nervous, a series were people felt comfortable and familiar wherever they raced.

I had never really thought about it that way, but that's exactly what I got out of these races since I started them last year. I sat in the shuttle bus in WV next to a racer I did the swim clinic with in Richmond, who stood next to me in line for the dinner. At Smith Lake, I talked with the race director who answered one of my forums questions and talked with at the Tahoe race briefing. I've picked up my race packet from Ann Mickey more times than I haven't. I saw Bill Swann on the course almost every race this year. Scudamore, well, he's always everywhere. At the dinner, we sat next to a couple from Oklahoma who I rode parts of the bike course with each of them during the race on Sunday, and it wouldn't surprise me if I saw them again at another race.

Also during the banquet, they recognized the race directors, the ambassadors, the regional champions, Will Kelsay as Mr. Xterra 2007, among others. They showed pictures of the races around the country and a movie that summed up the season.

Sunday was the USA Championship race and was tough. The distances were the same as Richmond, except a slightly longer swim. It was cool, almost cold out but that made for good racing. Still, it was much rougher than any of the other Xterras. Waiting on the beach for the start, I was talking to Jim Holt about the wave starts when he said it was just a mass start. 350 eager swimmers heading for a turn buoy 300 meters out in 58 degree water. My goal for the next mile: tough it out.

I stood a few people back on the beach to avoid being at the front, but people were so spread out across the beach, it didn't matter. After the gun went off, I was trying so hard to keep some sort of form that I didn't notice my feet were going numb. It was a huge mess of kicking wetsuits in the shape of a moving triangle that I ended up in the middle of. If that wasn't bad enough, the wetsuit kept me warm but the cold on my face kept me gasping for air instead of breathing like I should. On the bright side, that clear water did taste better than any other swim water.

After doggie-paddling around the first buoy, because it was too crowded to do anything else, there was enough thinning out to try to get into a rhythm, but not enough to achieve it. I started thinking "I've really had a great weekend. I don't need to be doing this." On the way back to the beach I reminded myself that I always hate the first lap of the swim and it was only going to get better. The second lap was better, didn't get kicked much and found a stroke I could maintain. I just decided to hold that pattern for the 2nd 750 meters, which, though probably a little slow, got me through it. One thing that was new was incoming waves when swimming parallel to the beach. Breathe at the bottom of the wave and you get about a half-breath and a bunch of water, breathe at the top and there's a little more time to inhale.

Threw on some shoes for the 1/4 mile run back to transition, half-stripped the wetsuit off, and reminded myself the rest is fun. Switched to the bike and took off quick. Thinking that not only is the bike my strong point, but I'm not too bad at climbing also. What I came to realize is that I can climb, but not necessarily faster than the other racers. The 3 miles up Tunnel Creek Rd. gained 1500-1600'. I caught a couple people, but a couple people caught me also. On the Flume Trail, I took a few looks at the views, but not too much. Parts of it look as though you wouldn't stop falling until you hit the water if you were to go over. Mostly it's wide though I was able to make a few much needed passes. Not only good for the race, but also the psyche.

Around Marlette Lake, I finished the Clif Bar I started on Tunnel Creek while passing a couple people in the big ring. Once on the other side, it was back to more climbing. Steep, fireroad, and sandy. I won't lie, I walked a spot or two. Getting closer to the top of the course, I yelled out "Timberline!" The woman behind me said "You mean the climbing's over?" I said "No, it's where the air's too thin for trees to grow." She didn't say anything back.

16 miles into the bike leg, during a section of the Tahoe Rim Trail, we stopped climbing. After a couple false tops, the trail turned to downhill switchbacks with the singletrack zig-zagging around boulders. It was good fun and I was able to make several good passes. Back on Tunnel Creek Rd, I flew down only checking the brakes on the turns or gravel. I hit 32 mph on sand and almost 40 after it turned pavement. Good fun.

Back at transition, I was pumped and still feeling good. At every other Xterra race, I'd be done by now, but with 10k left I still felt I could run it in. I'd tried to watch for other 25-29ers on the bike and didn't see many. I knew most of the field was ahead of me after my rough swim and the difficulty of catching people on the climbs, but I wasn't doing this to prove anything to them. I wasn't chasing points and felt less pressure than during the points races. What I wanted to do was finish feeling strong and passing a guy with a "25" on his leg on the run did feel good.

I ran pretty good. Ducked under some trees and jumped some rocks. Crossed some creeks and ran some logs. I won't lie, it wasn't easy. Under normal circumstances, it's be a really fun, almost playful run. As much as my body was telling me to walk, I kept it up and brought it home.

Swim: 0:42:26
Bike: 2:25:08
Run: 0:53:47
Finish: 4:01:21
Men 25-29: 20 of 25
Overall: 225 of 315 finishers

Looking back, I don't think I could've ran harder. I may have been able to take a couple minutes off the second swim lap if I'd found a better rhythm. The bike's where I could've made up some time if I'd been a little more aggressive on the climbs. This was the first Xterra I've done where I didn't preride the course. Though it would've been nice to know what was ahead, riding it saturday would've ruined my race. I didn't think I'd ever say that about a 20 miles of mountain biking.

Then again, I didn't go to win or place, just to do well, have fun, and reward myself for a season of hard work.

You can see more pictures from when my mom and sister were there here.
You can see more pictures from the rest of Liz's and I's trip, including shots from the Tahoe Rim Trail and the Flume trail here.