Leadville 2016

5 weeks before Leadville, I hit the turnaround of the Silver Rush making plans for my non-Leadville summer.

I didn't get in the lottery back in January, and after a short period of pissed off disappointment, I decided I would forgo one of my favorite races (Ultra Adventures Capitol Reef) in order to run the Silver Rush, so I could earn a ticket to the Leadville 100.

After a pretty good training season, I was expecting a PR and an easy ride to Leadville. As I started out with, by the time I hit the halfway mark, I knew my dreams were gone. Though only a few minutes behind my target time, I had worked way too hard and knew I could not keep it up for the return. All the way back, I kept mentally rearranging my racing and training schedule for the rest of the summer. There were plenty of positives - no more altitude training, total focus on the North Coast 24, etc.

I started to feel a bit better after the last aid station and pushed to the finish, but only so that I could at least break the 9 hour mark. I sprinted across the line with my worst time in 4 visits to the Silver Rush and was completely shocked when the gal handed me my finisher's medal, coffee mug, 3rd place age group award, and the coveted copper token to the Leadville 100!!

Apparently, many others had poor performances out there and my time was good enough.

All of a sudden, I was re-rearranging my racing and training plans.

5 weeks later, I jogged up to the start line of my 3rd consecutive Leadville 100, and for the first time, I wasn't even nervous. I felt comfortable and relaxed, knowing I had the experience and had earned my right to be there - not the least bit cocky, but I just felt comfortable. I wasn't even wearing my gps this time, opting to go strictly by feel.

I started way closer to the front than previous years and fell into a pretty good groove from the start. By the time I got to Turquoise Lake, only a few miles in, I hit the first snag. The flashlight that was supposed to last 2.5 hours was already dying!  With 1.5+hours till sunrise, I tried not to panic.

Then, part way around the lake, I missed a turn, going off course about a hundred yards, and I couldn't even blame it on the failing light. I got back on track, letting out a few choice words. Luckily, I made a conscious decision to keep a positive attitude. If the finish came down to a hundred yards, I could be mad again. Otherwise, I still had 95 miles to make things go right.

I tagged along with other runners to take advantage of their lights, marveling that I stayed upright on the dark trail, and finally made it into May Queen. Taking just seconds to unload my useless flashlight and refill my bottle, I headed out through the cheering crowd asking for the time. Joe Agnew (Kelly's wife) saw me, yelled out that it was 6:01, and sent me off with some encouraging words.

Only 12.5 miles in, but I was on my most optimistic pace. How long would this last? I had calculated 21 hours as a tough, yet achievable goal. That would be an hour better than last year, so a pretty good improvement if I could do it.  But, as usual, I had also planned out a super fast pace, mostly so I could be prepared if I ran certain sections really fast. I certainly wasn't planning on starting out that way. 

I felt good going up the backside of Powerline and even better flying down the front. Then, after a short section of asphalt, I rolled into Outward Bound, now 5 minutes ahead - so fast that Brenda and the girls weren't even there yet, as I was still moving faster than my fastest pace estimate

After a jaunt through the grass field, we were back out onto another stretch of pavement. It was at this point that I started to feel the morning's efforts. Fortunately, I was smart enough to ease things back a bit before it was too late.  I don't know where this bout of patience and maturity came from, but I'm sure it saved my race. 

It seemed to take forever to get to Half Pipe, and though I didn't know it at the time, I lost back that 5 minutes. I kept running smart, taking it easy on the up hills and rolling comfortably along on the downhills.  This is a deceptively difficult section - the field is stretched out so you can be alone at times, yet it's still early enough for many runners to be pushing too fast and pull you along. It's also one of the more "boring" sections of the course as there are no significant natural features and no spectators around

At Twin Lakes, I was met by Mike Robberts (who would pace me from Winfield),  Brenda, and the girls. I moved through pretty quickly and found out that I was pretty much right on my 20 hour pacing estimate.

I headed up towards Hope Pass and definitely felt stronger than the previous year, though I wasn't passing many runners. It turns out the reason was that I was so much further up the field than previous years, there were just fewer runners to pass.

The volunteers at the Hopeless aid station were awesome (as usual) and I didn't even have to slow my pace. They ran up to get my bottle, filled it and handed it back as I passed through. I was also greeted by Ethan Matyas, who was not racing but had come up with his son to hang out and cheer on the runners. 

Up Hope Pass I went and down the other side. It was quite a bit down that I finally came across the leader, Max King, who was on a record setting pace. By the time I hit the right turn that parallels the road, I had only crossed paths with 3 leaders - way fewer than previous years. Gradually, more runners came up the trail, and I stopped counting. Just after making the last turn down towards the road, I came across Tim Olsen, surprised that he was less than 2 miles ahead of me.

At the road, I saw David Silva, but of course, he had his camera off. Heading into the aid station, Mike greeted me and helped me transition through efficiently. I called out for the time and had to get a couple of responses before I could narrow it down to the minute (every minute was important). 9:30 into the race! 40+ minutes faster than previous years and still feeling pretty good. I knew that it was a long shot, but returning a full hour slower would still give me a chance at the 20 hour mark.

Mike and I headed back along the rolling trail where I was still crushing the downhill portions. Then to the left turn and up towards Hope. The day was getting hotter and I was feeling it, but was still pushing up at a reasonable pace. We passed a couple of runners on the way up and saw many friends coming down. It felt great to hit the pass, feel the cool breeze (the timers hanging out on top were wearing heavy down parkas), and see Twin Lakes far below.

Mike helped me get through Hopeless quickly and we continued to fly down the mountain, while still giving my legs a chance to recover from the climb. Back at Twin, I took a couple of minutes to re-hydrate with two cans of club soda and change to dry socks and brand new, out of the box shoes. Tania was there with some words of encouragement but soon we were back onto the course, not really knowing how I was doing on time.

On the way to Half Pipe, we see-sawed with a few sets of runners/pacers - I would pass on the downhills, they would catch up on the climbs, but slowly, I would pull away. As we got to within a couple of miles of the aid station, some guy and his pacer came whipping by, on a downhill, no less. Tuned out it was Mike Aish. Somehow, he fell way behind yet had rebounded strongly. Soon thereafter, we passed Tim Olsen, who was slowly walking on a relatively flat section. I hate to see anyone suffer, but I have to admit that it gave me a shot of adrenaline.

I had done some rough calculations as to the time I needed to still have a shot at 20, and when we got into the aid station, I was almost disappointed that I was still on. I was feeling a bit tired after 70 miles and  looked forward to slowing up a bit but with the magical 20 still a possibility, I just couldn't let the opportunity slide without an all out effort.

Into Outward Bound we came, with the sun still hanging over the mountains. Brenda and the girls were there for a quick emotional boost. I also swapped pacers. Mike had done an awesome job getting me this far and now it would be Anthony's turn.

I downed a can of Coke, big cup of ramen, put on a shirt, and off we went. My time into OB was borderline for making 20 but I pushed on, though I didn't want to overdo it just yet. I still had memories of my first year when I totally fell apart at the base of Powerline.

This year was as different as night and day. Literally. This was the first time I hit the base of the climb in daylight. Boy what a difference that makes - both physically and psychologically.

For an added boost, part way up the climb we came across a runner puking off the side of the trail. As we passed by and shared some encouraging words, Anthony whispered "I think that was Mike Aish".

Again, I don't relish anyone suffering, but it felt good to know that the only person to have passed me after mile 30 was now back behind me. Mike did make a push for a bit, but to no avail.

We finally broke down and pulled out our lights right before the summit. Just as we were hearing the commotion from my favorite aid station of all time. The stoners were out! It seems like they outdo themselves each year. These guys saved my life and my race the first year and I remind them of that each time. They are just awesome and provide such a needed energy boost this late in the race.

After some shots of Coke, Anthony and I flew down the back side towards May Queen. He seemed pleased with my downhill speed at this mileage, which made me feel pretty good. Pulling into May Queen, we quickly refueled and moved out. We had just over 2.5 hours till the 20 mark. This was doable, but it would be close and it certainly would not be easy.

Part way around Turquoise, I stopped to take a leak and in the light of the flashlight was shocked to see that I was pretty dehydrated. With almost 2 hours to go, much could still go wrong. I forced myself to drink more, fearing the kind of total collapse that I've experienced with severe dehydration.

We passed a couple of runners, but the trail around the lake just seems to be interminable at the end of a tough day. By the time we were wrapping around the east end of the lake, I probably hit my lowest point of the race, but thankfully Anthony did a great job of keeping me motivated. We finally hit mini-Powerline and did another quick time check. It was still within reach, but not having exact mileage and with the Boulevard uphill still to come, nothing was certain.

As we got closer to town, the previously unthinkable goal of 20 hours was right there in front of me, waiting to be grasped. My mind and body were fully exhausted as we crested the final hill and came into view of the finish line. And there ahead of me was the red "taillight" of another runner.  I pushed with everything I had left, but just didn't have enough distance to fully close the gap. 

19:51:47!!!!  I broke 20 and finished in 10th place overall. The two elements of my most optimistic secret dreams.

And as it turns out, that runner that finished less than a minute ahead of me was none other than Max King, who was on a record setting pace for the first 60+ miles.

As I was recovering in the medical tent after the race, I told everyone around how I was going to retire from Leadville. I had achieved almost impossible goals. There was no way I could outdo this performance. I needed to go out on top, like Michael Phelps, except without all the gold medals, or millions in endorsements, or superhuman physique...  Okay, pretty much nothing like Michael Phelps, but still, on top. It only took til sunrise for me to start rethinking that decision. Surely, if I trained just a little harder, I could shave a few more minutes off, and if the weather was even better, maybe a few more minutes. My family may have something to say about it, but at this point, Leadville number 4 is calling to me. 

After the race, I felt pretty good except for the plumbing. I was having to run to take a leak every 5-10 minutes and I thought I might have some internal bleeding (ultra runners freely talk about this kind of crap (pun intended)). Luckily, this all went away within the next 24 hours. By the time I woke up from a 3 hour nap, my legs were feeling pretty good too. They were a bit on the sore/stiff side, but not too bad at all.

All the training and experience paid off, in addition to a good load of luck. But another big reason for the success was that I constantly made minor changes to my pace and effort to keep pushing hard while not red-lining. I never really ran with anyone in the first half of the race, allowing me to keep my own pace the whole time. On the return, both pacers, Mike and Anthony allowed me to dictate the effort until the very end. With all my experience, there is nobody else who knows what my body should or shouldn't be doing at any particular time. Also, my 52 minute positive split is a clear indication of great pacing. While I'm still chasing the elusive negative split on a hundred miler, this came pretty darn close. 

My planned and actual pacing splits

Article I wrote about ultra pacing, prior to the race

2017 24 Hour World Championships - Belfast

“We didn’t bring anyone here to die, but we’re going to let you get damn close”

That’s the kind of motivational talk we got prior to the 2017 24 Hour World Championships in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

I went into this race under-trained, overweight, and wound up having intestinal issues for the last 5 hours, yet I still managed a PR and had an absolute blast.

Opening Ceremonies

The course consisted of a 1.02 mile loop around Victoria Park, near the Titanic quarters in Belfast.  Yes, that’s right, we were within sight of where the Titanic was built.  The path was about 14’ wide, exposed aggregate concrete, with 15’ of elevation gain/loss, mostly on one hill.

my beloved wife and one-woman crew, Brenda

the 3 alternates, prior to the start

Prior to the start, I placed myself in the middle of the pack of almost 400 runners.  The first couple of laps were all about runners sorting themselves out based on their respective paces.  I fell into a comfortable pace and was mainly surrounded by women, as most of the men went out quite fast.  Over the first 30 miles, I slowly picked up the pace, going strictly by feel.  I was even able to run a couple of laps with Jon Olson.  It was a real mental boost to run alongside a former World Champion.

The weather forecast proved to be quite accurate.  A couple of hours into the race, the drizzle started and eventually turned into a steady rain, which lasted an hour or so.  With temps in the low 60’s, I was comfortable the whole time and eventually, my thoroughly soaked singlet dried out.  Yup, that’s right, I wore a singlet.  International rules required a shirt or singlet top.

Aid station alley

The cool, humid weather made hydration a bit of a different game.  I drank less than I’m used to in the high altitude, desert climate of Colorado and Utah, yet for the first 5 hours, I was making numerous trips into the bushes (it was quicker and easier than going into the port-a-potties).

Making minor adjustments to my pace, I felt really good.  Eventually, the runners who were lapping me early on, stopped doing so.  I was even starting to claw back some of those laps.  It wasn’t until about 70 miles that I took a short stop to have a blister attended to.  I got back out there and continued the good lap times.  Other than a few feet every time I got a drink, I didn’t do any walking until about 110 laps in.  Even then, it was a short distance, up the one main hill on the course.

In addition to half a bottle of an energy/hydration mix early on, I mainly drank club soda, with a few Cokes mixed in later during the night.  My fueling consisted of Doritos and ginger snaps, with a few Honey Stinger waffles and cups of ramen noodles.  Historically, this has worked quite well for me.

Doritos - fuel of ...

Physically and mentally, I was having an awesome race.  All I had to do was continue on.  Unfortunately, after about 125 miles (19:30 into the race), my stomach started to rebel.  The next 4 ½ hours my pace dropped from 9:20/mile to 11:40 as I made a number of pit stops and had to work extra hard on managing hydration and nutrition.  With about 2 hours to go, this started to affect my legs, as my calves started to tighten up and I could feel them pulling on my Achilles.  I had no choice but to pull off twice and have the team doctor work on me.

Despite the issues over the last 5 hours, I had a decent race with a very respectable 148.13 miles, 31st out of 159 men.  Best of all, I proved to myself that I am capable of even better performances.  If I can train a little better, drop a few unneeded pounds, and manage my stomach through the latter parts of the race, I can truly be competitive - not a Worlds podium, but closer to the top.

the end - waiting for the final measurement

Here’s the biggest negative about this race - the timing system experienced huge failures.  Luckily, the lap counting system seemed to work (or so we thought).  Unfortunately, the display screen went out just shy of 12 hours into the race.  It came up a couple of hours later.  As soon as it did, I took the time to read my data and saw that I was at 100 miles at just past 14 hours!  Needless to say, I was elated.  This was 1 ½ hours faster than I had ever hit the 100 mile mark.  I couldn’t believe how totally awesome I was running.  However, I soon started to do the simple math that my brain could still manage and realized that there was no way I could have gone from a 7:38 first 50 miles to a 6:30 second 50.  Clearly something was wrong.  I soon hooked up with fellow American runner, Gina Slaby and checked with her.  She was tracking on her watch and we soon determined that the system was off by at least 6 laps.  I couldn’t believe that kind of a screw-up could happen in a World Championship event.  Eventually, the display system went out again, PERMANENTLY!  And, to make things even better, the race clock went out for a number of hours.  The display never came back on and unless runners had crew keeping track, or were wearing GPS watches, we were running blind.  I don’t know if I could have run any farther, but not knowing where I am that far in a race is beyond frustrating.

The other negatives about the race organization was the Opening Ceremony/Pasta Dinner and the Final Banquet.  I found the Opening Ceremony to be a bit underwhelming.  The venue was a small soccer stadium which meant that audience was limited to crews and family members.  The pasta dinner afterwards was a flop.  The space was less than half of what was needed for the number of people present.  The two buffet lines were long and slow, and there was nowhere to sit once you did get your food.  They actually made a PA announcement asking people to eat and leave so that others could have a turn.  Seriously?  The American delegation just skipped this altogether, as I’m sure numerous others did.

The Final Banquet was even worse.  Just hours after all these runners completed the race, they put out two stations with four types of hores de vour, which they ran out of in the first 10 minutes.  It took them another 30 minutes to replenish, and let me tell you, the snacks were a joke, both in quality and quantity.  Again, many of us left and went out on our own.  These failure on the social venue were quite disappointing, especially since the American crew was so large (with crews, family, and support staff) that we stayed in a hotel, rather than at the college with the other national teams.  This really limited the interaction that an international event of this nature should encourage.

I don’t want to focus on the negatives, but I hope the local organizing committee got a good earful with respect to the Pasta Dinner, Final “Banquet” and especially the timing failures.  These were not complex issues to avoid.

Seriously - As of this writing, 15% of the women's and 30% of the men's results were adjusted (mostly up) almost a month after the race.  The US men's and women's teams got knocked down a place to 4th and 2nd respectively.  Appeals have been filed, but no new information has been provided.

even the helpers have to stay up for 24 hours

I want to end on a positive note:

Not being part of the actual team, I did not have an official USA uniform, but I did wear the USA singlet from Run4Water, and for 24 hours (to all but my wife), I was no longer Adrian Stanciu.  I was “USA” – “way to go, USA”, “keep it up USA”, “looking good USA”, etc.  It was an awesome feeling.

To most people (even runners), the 24 hour ultra is an obscure, insane sporting event.  But to those who have participated, especially in a National or World Championship, the energy, camaraderie, and support are infectious.  I got to run side-by-side with some of the best runners in the US and the world and I proved (mostly to myself) that I have earned the right to be there.

I am absolutely glad that I went along, as an alternate.  And I am so incredibly grateful to my wife, Brenda for everything she has had to put up with for me to get to this point and then to single-highhandedly support me during the race.  This experience motivated me to try to get onto the team for 2019, but if that doesn’t happen, I will always have Belfast to look back upon.

Monument Valley 50 - 2016

Well, I managed to talk Brenda into taking an extra day off of work, so we packed up the mini-van, picked the girls up from school and hit the road.  After overnighting in Durango and spending the day at Mesa Verde, we finally made it to Monument Valley late in the afternoon.  With the light softening, the rocks were magnificent.  We hung around for a bit as the girls each ate a Navajo taco and a fresh made pizza.  I also got to catch up briefly with various UA crew members and retrieve stuff I had left behind at Antelope Canyon (thanks Turd’l).

We stayed the night in Mexican Hat so I had to drag everyone out of bed for the early start.  As with the 100, the previous year, we started the morning off with a Navajo prayer/blessing just before the sun rose.

It was pretty chilly at the start, with overnight temps down in the low 40’s.  I ran into Katrin and David (who took some lovely pics of our family).  A few minutes before the start, I booted up my Garmin, only to have it beep back at me that the battery was dead.  #$%^&*()!!  I had charged it just before leaving home, but it must have gotten banged around and switched on.  I stripped it off my wrist in disgust and handed it off to Brenda, along with my warm overclothes.  Oh well, I would just have to run by feel.  I would anyway, but I like to know where I’m at mileage wise and how far it is to the next aid station.

Monument Valley is the most scenic race that Ultra Adventures puts on, and that’s saying a lot as all of their race venues are spectacular.  Last year, during the 100, I had shot more pictures than on any other race.  Though I was a bit disappointed at not having the 100 mile option this year, it would be cool to see the course in a different light - literally.  The course was basically the last half of the 100, run backwards.  I would get to see the area that I wandered through by myself during the middle of the night.  And wow, did things look different in the light of day.

At the first aid station, Brigham’s Tomb, one of the local dogs took off and followed me.  He wound up running right by my side for the net 8 miles.  A couple of times he was so close that he tripped me up, though luckily I didn’t fall.  I kept up a pretty good pace in this section and he never slowed, even in the deep sand.

By the time I got to the East Mitten aid station, the runners had dispersed quite a bit and I was out on my own most of the way.  It was kind of nice to head into the 3 Sisters/Hogan aid station, as it was crowded with energetic supporters.

Katrin on her way to resetting her course record!

Part way around the first loop, I started to catch up to the 50K’ers and I was still running strong.  Back to 3 Sisters and I was pleasantly surprised by Brenda and the girls.  I didn’t stop for long, but it’s always great to see them in the middle of a race.

3 Sister/Hogan aid station in the distance

Unfortunately, soon after I started out on the second, longer loop, I started to slow down.  I thought that I had been pacing myself pretty well, but I just didn’t have the endurance.  When I got to the sand dunes, I could see a runner far behind and by the time I got to the last arch, he had caught up.  I don’t like being passed in the second half of a race, but there was not much I could do, so I tried to relax and enjoy the magnificent scenery.  It was getting pretty warm now and I was glad to have taken on a second bottle for this long loop as I drained both by the end.

Back to 3 Sisters, where I saw Brenda and the girls again.  I resupplied and told them to take my drop bag so I wouldn’t have to leave anything behind.

the climb up Mitchell Mesa

There was quite a bit more traffic now as many of the 50K’ers were coming back down off Mitchell Mesa.  I made a quick stop at the bottom to refill my bottle and headed up.  The climb was slow and hot.  I wished I had brought more water, not that I really wanted to carry a second bottle again.  50K runners were going both ways and right after the start of the climb, 50 milers started to come down.  I counted, and figured I was in 6th or 7th place, with the guy that had passed me on the previous loop not far ahead.

another 50 miler chasing me up Mitchell Mesa

The views from the top of the mesa were magnificent, though last year, with the setting sun, the colors and shadows were even more spectacular.  I punched my bib at the turn-a-round and headed back across the mesa.

at the top of Mitchell Mesa!

I’m normally pretty good at technical descents, but I still wasn’t moving as fast as I would have liked.  After another refill of water at the base, I headed back towards 3 Sisters.  Brenda and the girls were gone at this point so I just loaded up on ice and water and hit the road towards the finish.

There was a bit of car traffic on the road, but not nearly as bad as I would have thought and only a couple of areas where the dust kicked up.  Part of the road had been graveled and they were spraying down the dirt as I was running.

Without a GPS, I wasn’t sure of the distance or time.  I had asked back at the aid station and felt like I had a decent shot at breaking 9 hours, but it would be close.  My pace was not improving.  I looked back and at times could see the next 50 miler, slowly catching up.

I pushed as much as I could and was relieved to see the final climb in the distance.  It was rather slow going, climbing up that road, but I pushed on and was joined by my girls for the few hundred feet to the finish.  I couldn't slow down at all as I was still being chased, crossing the line in 8:56, less than a couple of minutes ahead of number 7.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t stick around the finish line to enjoy the festivities, or to watch Katrin finish not long after me (and reset her own course record).  We headed to our van, where I discreetly changed and then hit the road for a 5 hour drive down to Scottsdale to visit family.

I’m pretty lucky to have gotten to see this magnificent area again.  As great as all of UA’s races are, this one is extra special because of the endless scenery, and the fact that you can’t experience it any other way.  It’s all Navajo land.  A small portion of the course can be driven or hiked.  Other portions of the course can be enjoyed by hiring a guide.  The rest of the course is simply inaccessible to all but the Navajo people, and very few of them ever get out there.

Antelope Canyon 50 - 2016

I was slightly disappointed that I wouldn’t get to run the 100 miler again, but the 50 mile “sprint” would actually work better into my training plan.

Despite the SAND, Antelope Canyon is one of my favorite races, with scenery only slightly surpassed by Monument Valley.  With my focus clearly directed at training for a real push at the 24 hour races, I went into AC somewhat lackadaisicaly.  I ran one of my best 6 mile tempo runs the Tuesday before the race, followed up by a pretty serious cross/strength training session later that night.  And although I recover pretty quickly, come race day, I was still feeling some lingering effects.  I was still hoping I could break 8:30, but it wasn’t a serious goal and I decided to take my camera along.  It seems sacrilegious to run an Ultra Adventures race without a camera (the only one that I did was Capitol Reef, and that was because my stupid camera died).

Anyway, I was pretty sure that unless I resorted to actual crawling, I would have no trouble in beating Ultra Signup’s predictions for me - 11:59:39, 44th overall, and 21st male.

I left Lakewood Thursday after work and made my way down through South Park, since I-70 was still closed through Glenwood Canyon.  The travel time might be pretty close, but I certainly prefer to be on a major interstate at night - much less chance of wildlife.  Additionally, as I drove across the high plains, the wind kicked up fiercely and snow started to fall (sideways).  I later learned that just up the road from where I drove, a new wind record was set at 148 mph on Monarch Pass.

My plan was to spend the night somewhere in Durango, but driving through, I didn’t see any place that looked good to park and sleep, and I was enjoying the audio version of A Storm of Swords (3rd book in the Game of Thrones series), so I drove on.  Finally coming into Cortez, I was just too tired to continue, so I pulled into a Walmart parking lot, set up my cozy bed in the back of the Subaru and went to sleep.  As I dozed off, I had lingering memories of being woken up by flashlights and shotguns pointing at me a year earlier as I slept in a truck stop with the entire state of Utah on a serious manhunt.

No such troubles this night.  I got up pretty early and drove to the nearest McDonald’s.  After a quick toothbrushing, potty break, and a large cup of coffee, I was on my way.

I pulled into Page mid morning and tried to make myself semi-useful.  I helped a bit with tent setups, food inventories, and then ended up as the information guy in front of the maps.  This was fun as most runners had never been out here before and I was able to give them real world feedback from my race the previous year.

I wound up crashing by 8 PM and got a decent night’s sleep.  Getting race ready in the back of the Subaru is a bit tight, but I’ve gotten pretty adept at it.  Unfortunately, my legs were still a bit tight from Tuesday’s hard workouts so as I was putting on my shoes, my left calf cramped up painfully.  That is not the way you want to start a 50 mile race.

You know the wise old saying “always try something new on race day”?  Well, at the last minute, I decided to don a pair of Brooks that I had never run a single mile in.  I typically use them at the gym, but I had worn them standing around the previous day and noticed that I had minimal sand infiltration.  Additionally, I heard people talking about duct taping their shoes to keep sand out, so I figured I’d try that too.

After slathering on a healthy amount of extremely cold sunscreen, I was off to the starting line.  It was downright chilly out there.  I was still wearing my pre-race pants and a heavy, hooded sweatshirt, standing by a roaring fire, and I was still cold.  I got to see Katrin Silva while waiting for the final few minutes.  Ultra Signup had her finishing over an hour ahead of me.

Soon enough, we were off.  Heading east, up a loose sandy hill, on a path that was only a few runners wide.  I slogged through the sand and didn’t pay much heed to all those that were fighting towards the front.  With 50 miles to go, the effort of trying to gain a few seconds now was beyond futile.

We made a U-turn, down the hill, across the highway, and started climbing the first slickrock mesa.  With over 200 runners, the view back down showed a slithering snake of light.  I’m never able to get a good photo of these scenes, but for anyone who has not experienced it in person, it’s a pretty cool sight.

Lots of runners were still fighting to pass me on the ascent (stay tuned for my upcoming blog page on pacing), but by the time we started dropping down the other side, everyone had pretty much settled into a pace.  The sky started to slowly lighten as everyone weaved back and forth along the sandy double-tracks, trying to find the firmest path.  We soon arrived at Owl Canyon and made our way between the slickrock walls.  Everyone around was ooing and aahhing as we shimmied our way through the slots.

Out we popped above the rock, and back to more sand, before we dropped back down to Antelope wash and our first aid station.  I went through pretty quickly as I didn’t need much.  The wide wash spread out before us and again, everyone meandered left and right, trying to find the firmest footing.  It seemed like we were only halfway through when we started seeing the leaders already coming back.

Eventually, we saw the sandstone cliff looming ahead, with the thin, narrow crack that we were about to enter.  Antelope Canyon seemed to be a bit darker than the previous year.  Maybe I ran faster and got here earlier?  Unfortunately, my stupid camera had been set to auto flash, so after being blinded by the first photo attempt, I gave up, as I couldn’t see the faded buttons well enough to fix it.  Instead, I just enjoyed the majesty of this place, while trying not to whack my head into the rock.  All too soon, we were out the back end and trudging our way up a hill of more loose sand.

After a short traverse, we dropped back down into Tumbleweed canyon.  Only slightly wider than Antelope, it was much brighter and just as pretty to experience.  Once out the other side, we made our way back down Antelope wash.  With a slight downhill, and the wind now at our backs, the return seemed so much easier.  There were still runners coming up the wash, but their numbers dwindled as we approached the Antelope aid station again.  From here, we followed the same route back up the sand hill, down into Owl Canyon, and back along sandy double-tracks.  I ran bits with others in this section and I overheard a guy mentioning that it was his first 50 miler.  The person he was next to, smartly suggested that he pace himself properly, especially given all the sand.  His reply was “I can’t run slow.  I only run fast, or walk”.  I just felt like pulling up alongside and smacking him upside the head.  “Give it a few hours.  You’ll figure out how to run slow” I wanted to say.  But I kept my stupid mouth shut.

Back up to the top of the first mesa that we had climbed in the early morning darkness and we made a left turn, heading off of the morning’s route.  I though the Slickrock station was closer, but it wasn’t.  The sun had climbed, along with the temperature and I now had my long-sleeved shirt around my waist.  One of the UA ambassadors, Brita, was at the aid station and I realized she was taking drop items from runners, so I threw my shirt, gloves, buff, and flashlight into the bag.  It was still early, but I now felt like I was ready to run!  I headed out of the aid station with a whoop.

Through the notch in the slickrock, up the sand, over the sandy mesa, and down the sandy trail.  This is where I started to see the lead 55K runners, and surprisingly enough, Travis wasn’t too far behind.  He gave me a hard time because he saw that Katrin was ahead of me, so I lashed back with “Why don’t you run a manly distance?”.  It was all in good fun and I hope those within earshot didn’t take it too seriously.  I would never insult anyone for running a 55K, unless of course, it was tattoo necked Travis.

I popped into the aid station, filled my bottle, grabbed a couple of items from my drop bag, and headed out.  This was my first mistake of the day.  I was heading into the longest stretch between aid stations, during the full heat of the day.  I should have gulped down my fill of fluids before heading out, but I didn’t.  It probably cost me a few minutes overall, but not as bad as it could have been on a hotter day.

I saw Katrin as soon as I got down to the edge - and by edge, I mean EDGE, as in a 2,000 foot vertical drop, straight down to the Colorado River, right at the Horseshoe Bend.  Katrin and I chatted for just a couple of minutes before I pulled away.  I commented on her unbloodied knees and she acknowledged the fact that she was being rather cautious on the rough and uneven sandstone.

This part of the race course is absolutely my favorite.  Running inches away from the precipice, with one of the most magnificent natural wonders on the planet just over your right shoulder is just un-freaking believable.  I took a few pictures, but not as many as last year.  The bright, cloudless sky made for too much contrast and I was still somewhat in racing mode.  This section is also not very fast.  There are lots of twists and turns, as well as vertical rises and dips, and with some of the flour arrows fading, a little bit of care was sometimes needed to stay on course.

I hooked up with John Gamble from South Carolina for most of this stretch.  Four eyes are better than two at finding trail markers, and we also pushed each other along a bit at times.  By the time we hit the south side of this little peninsula, we started catching up to the tail end 55Kers.  Most were in great spirits, enjoying the majesty of their surroundings.  We also managed to reel in a few 50 milers.  Not long after I licked the final drops of fluid from my empty bottle, we crossed the road at the Waterholes aid station.  This time, I got a long drink, and then refilled my bottle again.

The drop down into Waterholes is a bit of a steep scramble, but luckily not too long.  Once down, the coolness and shade of the canyon felt good.  I didn’t move though quite as quickly as I could have, slowing to take a few pictures and enjoy the last slot canyon of the day.

Once out the other side, I slowly made my way up the loose sand, but once on top, I started to push the pace.  Most of this section is on a sandy road that rolls generally downhill back towards the Horseshoe Bend aid station.  I started to do some calculations and to my surprise, I figured out that I still had a shot at an 8:30 finish, though it would be pretty tight.  This insight, along with the gravity assist, gave my legs the extra speed as I flew past 55Kers and also passed a number of 50 milers.

Back at Horseshoe Bend, I was feeling good and went through the aid station pretty quickly.  I climbed back up the sandy double-track to the top of the mesa, went across the top quicker than I had expected and dropped down the other side to Slickrock.  Another quick stop and off I went towards the Page Rim Loop.

I made it to the Page Rim aid station a couple of minutes ahead of my self imposed cut off, thus keeping that 8:30 goal still within reach.  All I had to do now was run 10 slightly rolling miles in less than 1:30.  I got off to a great start with a few miles at well under 9 minutes, but by the time I got to the Lake Powell aid station, I was getting tired.  My legs, and especially my calves, were feeling the effects of 30 miles of sand, Tuesday’s tough training, and my never-before-run-in shoes.

My sub-9 minute miles turned into 10+ minute miles and my legs were more than ready for the finish line.  The realization that 8:30 was slipping away didn’t help my motivation, but I motored on.  As I passed through Page Rim aid again, I stopped to pick up my drop bag - the extra seconds wouldn’t matter at this point, and I didn’t want to have to go back for it later.

I dropped down off the rim as more runners were climbing up.  I jogged through the final section of sand, up to the back of the stage, through the break in the slickrock, and out onto the finish chute with a final time of 8:46:36.  Good enough for 12th overall and gender, 4th in my age group.  more than 3 hours ahead of Ultra Signup’s prediction and way better than the 44th place they had me ranked at.

Though not quite a perfect day, I was pretty pleased overall.  I got to see a bunch of friends at the finish and not too long after, Katrin came through as the 2nd female.  Travis and I gave each other some crap while I downed a few beverages and an entire honey dew.  There were way more runners this year, and unlike last year’s 100, where I finished alone, in the middle of the night, the finish area was crowded and active.  It would have been cool to just hang out for a while, but I gathered up my stuff and hit the road.

Overall, it was another awesome UA race.  It’s unfortunate that we can’t run through Antelope Canyon just 30 minutes later when it brightens up a bit, but I guess I could always stay at the back of the pack if I really wanted to.  The sand didn’t bother me nearly as much this year, perhaps because of the shoes, but also because I was better mentally prepared.  The aid stations were awesome, with more choices than any other race organization provides.  I also liked the finish area.  Matt has made it a place where people want to hang out with family, friends, and fellow runners.

My calves definitely felt the effects of the sand and the shoes.  Though able to run by Monday, I wasn’t really 100% for a week.  Now it’s time to get ready for Monument Valley!!

 

Motivation

What is the key to maintaining a high level of motivation throughout the year (especially now, during the “off-season”)?

That is the million dollar question.  And the answer (at least for me) is that there is no single answer.  I use somewhat of a shotgun approach - many, small motivating factors that inspire me at different times and in different ways.

photo by Israel Archuletta

If you want to reinvigorate your running, go out when no one else will, like during a downpour, or a blizzard.  Don’t expect great performances on these days, but they can make you feel alive.  About a month ago, we had a decent snowstorm, where the whole City was on a delayed start.  I couldn’t sleep, so I wound up going to work extra early, and to break up the long day, I went out for my typical lunch time run.  It was way slower than usual, as even on the plowed bike paths, there was 2-6” of snow, but it felt great.  I was the only nutcase out there and got lots of stares and honks from passing vehicles.  It’s kind of like being a kid again and just running freely, splashing through the puddles.

Motivation means making training a priority.  I put all of my trainings runs (and cross training workouts) on my Outlook calendar.  I make the items “private” and set the time to “free” so that I’m not actually interfering with my job, but unless a meeting comes up, I know that lunch time is set aside for a run.  Same thing for my evening runs or workouts.  Putting these items on the calendar forces me to have to opt out of a training, rather than facing the free time and having to find the motivation to opt in.  I’ll sometimes reward myself after a good training run, or even after a slow one that I struggled to complete.  I’ll treat myself to a chocolate bar or a pastry.  Sure, it negates much of the caloric benefit of the training, but not the fitness benefit.

Run with a partner or a group if you can.  The vast majority of my training miles are run alone, but when I’m around on Thursday evenings, I run with the Belmar Running Club (check with your local running store for a club near you).  Once in awhile, I’ll get pulled along at a pretty fast pace, but most of the time, I look at these runs as social/recovery runs and just enjoy chatting with like minded people.  If you can, find a training partner with similar abilities and goals.  If you and your partner are too far apart in fitness levels, running on a track, or side by side treadmills can work despite differences in speed.

I really enjoy races (especially when I do well), therefore I register for races well in advance (also because I’m a cheap SOB and want to get the early bird pricing).  Having these races on my calendar months in advance is a serious commitment and gives me a real sense of purpose and focus during my trainings.

I tend to run many races throughout the year (usually 25+).  This way, if a have a bad day, It’s not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, and I have another race to focus on within the next month or so.  I can’t get demoralized for too long with a single bad performance.  I know there are plenty of folks out there who focus on a single race, but for me that’s just too much of a gamble and way too much pressure.  I’ve seen some of the best runners in the world have bad days and if you happen to have one of those bad days on your one and only goal race day...

Set a huge, motivational goal, far enough into the future to make it achievable, then focus on the short term accomplishments and celebrate every single mini-milestone.  I tend to have pretty lofty (and many times unrealistic goals), but I know that about myself so I don’t get too distraught when I fail.  This year, I’ve set a goal for myself to run 150 miles in 24 hours.  Having never run over 137, that’s a pretty tall order, but it’s not completely outside of the realm of possibilities (though it sure is close to the edge).  Sometimes, when I’m pushing extra hard at the end of a tempo run, or a fartlek sprint, I’ll imagine that I’m close and pushing for that 150 mile mark.  Silly, but these little mental games do help.  Now, this is a pretty singular goal, but to avoid the “all the eggs in one basket” conundrum that I previously mentioned, I’m giving myself one “practice” 24 hour race early in the season, and 2 serious goal races in the fall and early winter, when I should be in prime shape.

Sometimes, a little negative motivation can work also.  My first race of 2014 was the 52 mile Coldwater Rumble, which became my first DNF (did not finish) at mile 40.  Though I had long since stopped collecting race bibs, I posted this one prominently on my office wall, as a reminder of what I didn’t want to happen again.  A year later, after having run well on the 100 mile version of the race, I felt great satisfaction in ripping it down and throwing it in the trash. Now I’m not the type of person who normally holds a grudge, but having been turned down for a couple of teams, I get a certain level of satisfaction when I outrun one of their members at a race.  I also use that as a bit of a mental whip in trainings - if I want to show them what they missed out on, I need to really push myself.

Running Log!  Track your progress!

My running log is one of my biggest motivating factors (please feel free to copy my log and modify it to your own needs if you would like).  I track lots of stats about my running and I really look forward to entering in the numbers on the spreadsheet after every run.  Though I use Garmin Connect for all my runs, weight, and other workouts, I also use a simple spreadsheet log.  I started the spreadsheet before I had a Garmin, so it’s got a bit more historical data, plus it’s much more customizable to my needs (I wish Garmin was listening to this).  I changed from Excel to Google Sheets a couple of years ago and have never looked back - it’s free, shareable, easily accessible from all computers and devices, and handles time better (especially when dealing with time duration, as opposed to time of day).  At a glance, I can see how many races I’ve run over the years, daily, weekly, yearly, and total mileage, upcoming races, etc.

I have two cells for each day (and weekly totals).  The second cells are for actual mileage, but the first shows my planned mileage in light grey text.  I’ll enter in the mileage of any upcoming races for the year, as well as my anticipated training miles for at least a few weeks out.  I’m typically conservative with these guestimates, so it adds to the positive reinforcement when I surpass them.

In addition to tracking daily mileage (I don’t really separate out multiple daily runs, unless I have 2 races in a day), I total up weekly and yearly mileage.  Having 9 years of data, I can look back on previous years and see my improvements.  Early in the year, my total mileage is pretty uninspiring, but I can look back at how it compares to the same time in previous years and see that I really am pushing my limits.  Increased mileage is a pretty simple, yet powerful motivation.  Especially for new runners, mileage and pace will increase rapidly and should provide great inspiration.  For longer term runners, those improvements may be pretty minimal, so tracking other progress may be beneficial.

A few years ago, I started tracking weeks where I went over 50 miles, then 75, and 100.  I highlight those weekly totals, as well as tracking the number of those weeks within a year.  If I’m close to a benchmark (50, 75, or 100), it can provide just a little bit of an added push to run that extra couple of miles, or force myself out on a crappy weather day.

This year, like last, I committed to more speed work (both fartleks and tempo runs), so on my log, I’ve assigned a different color to each, and can now see at a glance if I’ve met my goal of 2 to 3 speed workouts per week.  Also, since most of my tempo runs are on the same course, I use a separate sheet to track my pace/mile and total time.  That way, I can see how I’m (hopefully) improving over time.  When I do have a breakthrough training run, I feel re-energized and that 150 mile goal seems so achievable.  Now don’t expect to see progress every day, or even every week.  The body needs time to process the repeated training and recovery into actual improvements.  You will typically see cyclical improvements every 2 to 4 weeks depending on your workouts and schedule.

I’ve got a progress sheet on the spreadsheet that I used to track my placement on races that I ran for multiple years.  I don’t really use it much anymore since I’ve switched to ultras, but it can be beneficial.  At a quick glance, I can see how my placement improved over the years.  Big races like the Colfax Marathon, Bolder Boulder, or Denver Marathon, can be pretty telling, as the overall field doesn’t change that much.  Smaller races can be quite misleading since all it takes is a few fast runners to knock you down from 10% to 30% in the standings, so be careful not to beat yourself up unnecessarily (or take undue credit).  Also, in the Pikes Peak region, we have a free 2 mile race every month (the Nielson Challenge).  I don’t get to run this very often anymore (when I do, it’s pacing my daughter), but if you can run an event like this frequently, track the results and your progress.

Over on the right hand of the spreadsheet, I’ll sometimes track my “lap” time and placement for races.  If the race involves repetitive laps, I like to see how I paced myself.  Proper pacing is a big goal, and one of my main strengths, so I like to see if I came close to negative splitting the course.  I also like to see how I placed throughout the race (when that data is available).  Leadville 2015 was a great pacing example.  Though I didn’t meet my time goal or run negative splits, slowly climbing my way up from 173rd place at May Queen to 22nd by the finish was a huge accomplishment and a victory in itself.  The 2015 Javelina Jundred is another example.  I again didn’t meet my time goal, but I can see how my placement went from 111th to 17th over the course of the race.  I also slowed down more than I had hoped, but I did much better than most.  This kind of data reassures me that I’m doing something right, even if my overall time wasn’t great.  It also gives me confidence early in an ultra when so many runners are zipping on by me.

With the exception of a small amount of negative reinforcement, focus on the positive.  Find the data points that excite and motivate you - time, distance, pace, race placement (overall, gender, age group), number of races, etc.  Dream big, but celebrate all of the incremental improvements.

What motivates you?  I’d love to hear other ideas.