Preparations for a race

                                                       (Image from the races website)
I have twenty-three days until my next race.  The last race I participated in was a 50 mile race in April of 2012.  The way my mind gets ready for a race is entertaining at times, however, sometimes it can be stressful too.  I love the countdown to a race.  This particular day that stands out in the future possess so much meaning it is ridiculous.  In the back of my mind, in preparation for every race, I wonder whether I can even complete the commitment that I have made.  Thats what these races boil down to, they are commitments amongst yourself.  I did not sign up for my next race for my brothers sake, or for my wife, I simply did it because I felt a calling to finish this feat.  This happens to be a race I have never ran in before, the Syllamore 50k.  I had ran on parts of this course last year when I was participating in my first three day stage race, three days of Syllamo, but I have never ran this particular race alone.
     The feeling before doing something unusual and different is very perplexing to my mind.  I stand entertained, nervous, challenged and feeling as though I either can or can not complete something, which stands out to be exhilarating for me.  I believe that all runners can attest to this feeling before an events approaching day.
     There is something that can feel spiritual if you allow it to.  A race can also feel you within a burdensome emotion if you do not watch out.  The training and mental preparations that lead up to race day are practically what will deliver you to the finish of a race, especially in the marathon and ultra distances.  It is possible to run 26.2 miles without training, as I have done it before, but I must say, my pride was wounded for years afterwards.  I found my way back into races years after that experience knowing that training is key to keeping not only the physical body happy, but the mental game strong.  Which leads to another important concept.
      Races are the ultimate learning tool.  I have read numerous how to books, what to do in a race, how to overcome this and that, but trust me, the best way to put it into perspective is to experience the body in that actual environment.  I learned so much from my first 50 mile race.  As I look back now I know that I was over-hydrated, did not have enough sodium, didn't eat enough, did not practice eating and running enough prior to the race.  LEts just say, 30 miles into a 50 mile race, if your stomach and yourself do not see eye to eye, the next 20 miles can be a grueling matter.
      These twenty-three days seem long and futile as if race day will not come, but it will.  You must remind yourself to be prepared both physically, mentally, and (if your into this kind of aspect) spiritually.  Without balance in ones life, it is hard to stay calm before the storm.  I have learned from others in the past that before a race day, even if life is a whirlwind and fast paced, when it comes to contemplations and formulating a game plan for an upcoming races, you must be willing and ready calm your nerves, set a goal, and run as if you trained enough.
Cheers and have fun out there!

The Arkansas Traveler Part 3 The Finish

         2011 Arkansas Traveler

         -The Real Race Begins 70-100-

         My first 100-mile race

            

         As we were leaving power line station, we started with a slow jog.  I figured we would step it up in a mile or so as I tried to stay optimistic.  My jog turned into more of a run as we moved on but the amount of time I could run at least a semi faster pace never lasted long.  Johnny(brother-in-law) had never ran a half marathon distance up to this point so the 32 mile commitment was a new taste of the unknown for him.

         The next crew/drop-bag aid station after Power Line is Lake Winona, which is a solid 16 miles away.  This 16-mile section was sickening as my body started to shut down entirely.  Johnny would try to talk to me and motivate me but most of the time it was hard to listen to what he was saying, let alone process information.  What shocked me is how my body was taking the beating, it overloaded my brain with so many signals and warnings that my brain was practically fried at this point.

         As the body shuts down, the mind has to rely on deep burning desire, reasons for finishing a race like this, which can be helpful by contemplating mantras.  A good mantra could be I am going to do this, I will prove myself wrong, I can do the impossible, or even I cant let myself down.  Some people run for charity events for others which can be great motivation for times like this when the body wants to quit, and the only thing keeping it moving is the endurance of the brain/mind.

         At this point in the race, I am trying to envision the distances ahead of me.  I would find myself calculating my remaining miles while envisioning the many training routes I ran on prior to this race.  If I had 6 miles to the next aid station, I may say ok that is two laps of my 3-mile course, or that is one lap to downtown and back.  It was a daunting thought as those distances seemed long when I trained, but It at least would help me visualize a practical distance in front of me.  75 miles in a 100-mile race seems as though you are close to your goal, but if you get caught up in the true distance and magnitude of 25 miles, the thought can shut you down for good.  Every time I told myself it was so far, I had to remind myself to think of closer goals, such as the next aid station.

         The amazing thing about these races is the race directors, the volunteers, and all other support.  Arriving at any aid station is an uplifting feeling as the volunteers are always there to adhere to your every need.  Sometimes you will reach a station flashing with Christmas lights, blaring old school music, or notice that everyone is dressed up in Halloween costumes, with the high hopes of uplifting the runner’s spirits.

         We had almost made it to Lake Winona and Johnny and I were both tired.  We had been reduced to a shuffle (we as in he just did what I did for the moral support), and we could finally see lights and hear a generator running.  I was so happy to have made it to my drop bag sight because I was freezing at this point.  I don’t even know if it was cold outside but my body was having trouble with its natural homeostatic operation, so I layered up!  I consumed anything and everything that I could.  I think I drank a five hour energy, a rockstar energy drink, and ensure, some candy, water, Gatorade, salt tablets, popped a few Excedrin, potatoes covered in salt, honestly this is probably just a little of what I ate.  I had to sit to change socks and put pants on; which I think that is what had me start shutting down, on top of the 84 miles of trauma to my body. 

         I remember walking out of Lake Winona, wanting to run, but I had to walk.  This is where Johnny challenged my spirit and told me that we had to shuffle.  We had to move on and finish this thing.  His optimism was so crucial at this point.  After a few miles, the Excedrin kicked in (which I thought was good, but turned out to be bad).  For 4 miles we ran at around an 8-minute pace, which for me at this point was flying.  What shut us down was a major hill somewhere in between Rocky Gap and Electric tower aid stations.  We sped up the hill and then I pleaded to sit down for a sec.  We sat at the top and turned out our headlamps.  We could hear coyotes all around us, and holy crap the stars where amazing!  We stared at them for a few minutes and then decided it was time to move on, and I could even possibly finish in 24 hours if we stayed strong to the end.

         Standing up was a challenge.  We started to shuffle but I couldn’t.  We walked, and walked, and walked.  That pain I felt in my left foot earlier around mile 35, remember how I started landed on it a little cockeyed, well that led a twinge in my knee to flare up.  I have never felt such pain in my knee in my entire life.  I could still move forward though so it was ok.  I realize now that the Excedrin I took at Lake Winona masked the pain in my legs and allowed me to run all out for a few miles.  It turns out that really taxed me of all my energy.  We walked and shuffled at such a slow pace until we reached electric tower.  We took probably 10-15 minutes there.  I had to sit and drink something warm.  Only two miles to the last aid station and then we would be heading to the finish.

         The track to pumpkin patch was slow and short.  They had pumpkin pies and candy and red bulls.  We were pumped to be at the last station, but I was ready to move on.  The last 6 miles was ruff, rocky, washed out/rutted out ATV trails that led to the final stretch on the road.  I had to walk the entire distance almost to the finish.  I was actually reduced to a limp once we left pumpkin patch, so slow that we were moving at a 45 minute/per mile pace.

         The one thing that helped halfway through the final stretch of trail was the sun coming up.  Something about seeing the sun can heighten your spirits when you are completely crashing.  We finally came out of the trail and onto the road.  Here you have a mile or two until the finish.  My family had been waiting for me thinking I would arrive at a 24 hour pace.  That didn’t happen for sure.  As we moved on the road, we saw my two brothers running toward us.  It was so good to see them, but they wanted to talk, and I didn’t.  Johnny was my translator and had to explain to them that encouragement wasn’t really helping.  They stopped shuffling and walked with me.  I have never felt such pain in my entire life.  If my knee would not have flared up I would have been able to jog many miles ago.  I actually had energy in the tank, but the grueling fact was I couldn’t run anymore.  So I did all I could do and limped onward. 

         I crossed the finish line in 27:33.  I actually wanted to stop at mile 99, saying that I was happy with that distance, and that the last mile didn’t matter.  Ha, I’m glad I had my brothers there telling me I was ridiculous and I was going to keep walking.  I didn't fight with them, I just said ok, considering that was the easiest way to avoid talking.

         I finished my first hundred, it wasn’t pretty, but I finished.  Im telling this story a year and a few months after I finished it, so it was hard to remember everything.  All I know, is I am actually going to train properly in 2013 and finish the Traveler strong this year.  Thats the plan at least.

-Cheers Everyone-

The Arkansas Traveler -My first 100 mile run- Part 2.

2011 Arkansas Traveler

         -The Race-

         My first 100-mile race

                                 (Left to Right: Dad, Alex, Matt, Myself.)

         The Traveler starts with a 17-mile figure eight shaped loop where the first 8 miles follow along a typical dirt/rocky road.  Then the last section of the loop (7 miles-ish) connects to the spectacular Ouachita trail.  Of course that short portion on the Ouachita trail was the highlight of the race for me.  The trail ends when it comes out to Lake Sylvia around mile 16.4 where the 42-mile out-and-back (84-miles) portion of the race begins. 

From the Traveler website, this is the terrain legend:

Surface Legend:
1. Pavement	4. Unmaintained Gravel Road
2. Best Gravel Road (smooth)	5. Old Road (4-wheeler trail)
3. Maintained Gravel Road	6. Ouachita Trail

         Of course the soft trail portion is over with, so what I got to look forward to were rocks of all shapes and sizes to guide my feet for the remaining 83 miles.  The whole portion leading to pumpkin patch I remember thinking how uneven and scary this section would be at night time, considering I could barely run it in the day time.

          As an Ultra marathon progresses, there are Aid Stations, which are refueling points stocked with drinks (Gatorade, heed, water, sodas) and food (potatoes, sandwiches, chips, cookies.)  Pumpkin Patch was the 4^th or 5^th station of the race, about 22 miles in.  At this point in the race, I’m mentally siked, I’ve almost completed a marathon, and then the reality kicks in, hey guy you are tired, now do what you just did over three more times (ugh.) 

         Trust me there are so many people in a lot better shape then me, so those people may not get tired until mile 60, but as for me, I lost and gained energy on and off throughout this entire race starting early.      There are a total of 25 aid station points, half you experience one way, and then you see them again on the way back to the finish.  You have to be careful when you reach an aid station though because if you do the calculations and stay at each one for 2 minutes (which can be easy to do), then you can waste almost an hour of time throughout the race just eating and drinking.

         The goal of an ultra race is continuous forward progression.  Even if you are eating or drinking, just try to move forward, and for the sake of your mental sanity, don’t make a habit of sitting in a chair at the aid stations, you are setting your self up for failure if you do that.

         Since this was my rookie 100-miler, I started at a 24-hour race pace, which really is not a bad thing to do.  I stayed this pace until around mile 30-ish and then I started really getting bogged down.  I started feeling a twinge in my left big toe, which forced me to start landing a little differently on my foot in order to push away the painful/more nagging feeling.  Somewhere in the next 5 miles, I exploded with energy.  This is the ridiculous thing of a race, you lose all hope at some points, and then you become the king of the world the next.  I felt amazing, and just minutes ago I was bonking and had a daunted realization that my body was thrashed.

         I know now that I should have held back and saved that energy for the latter miles to come, of course I was a rookie so I just ran really fast! 

         We could run with a pacer at mile 48 (power line aid station), so my family and crew prepared to be there with me arriving at a 24 hour pace.  This would put me there in 12 hours roughly, give or take some time.  Well, I arrived there in 10:10.  This was a 20+ hour pace, someone needed to slap me and tell me to chill out, but none of my crew was there. 

         Power line aid station is a medical checkpoint where they weigh and analyze you and you’re health.  When I started the race I weighed 190lbs, at power line I weighed 184, I had lost 6 pounds, which is not bad, but losing weight in an ultra can be scary if you lose control and start dropping to much.  My focus for the next 14 miles was to hydrate as much as possible, and force food down to gain that weight back.

         My family met me at the next aid station (Copperhead Crossing) and I picked up my brother Matt to pace with me.  He ran the next 10 miles with me (5 to the turnaround, and 5 back to copperhead crossing.)  During this portion I began to lose a sense of my motor controls.  Since I had been eating and drinking so much, my stomach began to lose its pleasantness too, and my mind started thinking about sitting and relaxing at some point.  The sad thing is, my mind was thinking how excited it was to have completed 50 miles at the turn around aid station, and then my mind sunk once it realized that I was only halfway done.

         This is the point where you learn.  This is the point where you find out what you are all about.  Your training is complete; your life back home does not matter.  All that matters, at this point is, can you go farther then you have gone before!?  50 miles was my first ultra -race-, and farthest I have ever ran!  I have walked 200+ miles in California but that involved many nights of sleep, food, and recovery.  This was one straight push for 100 miles, and my first time at that.

         After some delicious grilled cheese and ice-cold water, Matt and I made our way back to copperhead crossing.  Once we arrived there, Matt stopped pacing and my brother Alex joined me to take me back to Power line.  This was a short 4-mile trek and at this point I had bounced back from my negative mental place and was motivated again.

         When I got back to power line I was weighed again and this time I had gained my 6 pounds back to my normal weight.  I was hydrated and healthy.  Alex was done pacing, and from here on out I had 32 miles left to go.  Almost three marathons down and a 32-mile run left.  Seeing my family was amazing at this point.  It is so nice to see people you love when you are in such a low state of mind.  What I didn’t realize was that the whole reason I was staying so strong and motivated was because I had the sun and my family on my side.

         I only had 32-miles left.  My brother-in-law Johnny (for some odd reason) decided to run the last two long 16-mile sections with me.  By this time, it was late, the sun was leaving me, and my family (along with my pregnant sister) had to go to town to eat and go to bed.  Oh how mentally great that thought made me feel (sarcasm of course.)

       (From left to right: Sister, Dad, Myself, Matt, Ted-who is also running the race)

           I left power line aid station with Johnny.  I felt great for a few miles, and then it hit me.  I was tired, my foot hurt, I wouldn’t see the rest of my family again until I was done, it was getting cold, and I went out way to hard the first half of the race.

         This is where a 100-mile race actually begins…at mile 70…

The Arkansas Traveler - My first 100 mile run- Part 1. Thoughts before the race

2011 Arkansas Traveler

         -Moments Before-

         My first 100-mile race

         I woke up at 3 o'clock, took a shower, and drank a 5-hour energy drink.  This ritual felt so liberating (Not necessarily a 5-hr energy is a ritual, but waking up and drinking some caffeine in one form or another). I knew that I was going to be awake throughout the day, through the night, and into the morning.  My mind was nervous about what it should expect, whether I could make it, or even truly fathom the thought of 100 miles of travel on foot.  

         I stayed in a hotel about 25 miles from the race start so I had a solid amount of time on the way to the start to listen to music and joke about the different ways I was going to collapse after so many miles.

         Having a crew is so crucial when it comes to a first Ultra, even if it is only one person.  For my first 50-mile race I had a friend of mine with me as my crew and that was it(which was totally enough for the time.)  Not this time though, I was totally stocked with help.  My mom, dad, brothers, sister, and brother and sister in laws were there to motivate me.  My sister’s husband also ran in this race.  He was really the reason that this race became an official “to do” in 2011(as I mentioned in one of my earlier posts.)

         Honestly my first thoughts when I agreed to run this race were “there’s no way”, or “I’m pretty sure that a race like this is meant for authors of books or just famous runners.”  Now that I think back I’m pretty sure I said that when I sat out to run my first 50 miler too.  Either way, this was a journey into the unknown.

         The thing that is amazing about Ultra marathons is that they seem so unreachable, so distant, and almost unbearable to grasp at first, but with training and mental preparation, these long events become very intimate (do-able) with the mind body connection.  I say this because I can not imagine a single person walking up to a starting line of an ultra without somewhere in the back of their mind thinking “ok, at some point this is going to hurt.”    These races hurt!  They really do.  But that is no reason not to do them!  Honestly, pain is never fun, unless your someone like me who enjoys it.  Most runners enjoy pain; they have to, because running is nonstop discomfort and trauma to our bodies.  We are odd and have weird fetishes toward the pain it creates, but hey, I’m not scared to admit I’m addicted to it.  I don’t do drugs and I don’t drink, but if I don’t get to run, you might as well lock me up and throw away the key because I will have a physical/mental breakdown.

         To many times I have gone into a race thinking that I felt invincible and was I going to really knock this distance out, only to be slapped and drop kicked with pure humbleness by many of these races.  Anyways, this was one of those races.  And most of these thoughts above, those are most of the feelings going through my head every time I stand on the starting line of an ultra.  Crazy running thoughts = more fuel for the fire.

         You want to experience some wacky, high energy, grown men and women (mothers and fathers and even grandparents), then go observe the start of an ultra.  Better yet, volunteer, or train to run in one.  I was 22 years old when I ran the Traveler and I’m pretty sure I got beat by mostly people twice my age. 

         Well yes, today was the day, the moment and time.  In just minutes the timer would start and the all day journey would begin.  You are one of many things in this position 1. In a Zen state of mind.  2. Saying your I love Yous to family.  3.  Staying quiet.  4.  Blaring your music.  5.  Telling jokes to mask the butterflies.  6.  Meeting new friends.  7.  Stomach is going CRAZY, or you have to pee a ton because of to much hydrating. 8. Im going to stop here because the list seems endless.  The point is, the moment before the storm (race), emotions are heavy and the final minutes until the start are daunting or exhilarating. 

         

          There are no greater feelings then those felt immediately after the start of an ultra...