Ice Age 50 Mile Race Report

4th place – 6:10:32

I wanted to compete for the win on Saturday, but I'm simply not there yet.  But that's OK, because where I am is a good place to be: on the way up!  I ran smart, I didn't fall apart (relatively speaking), and I ran a pretty competitive time.  There's not much more you can ask for—the pieces are all starting to fit together.  I couldn't keep up with David Riddle on Saturday, but I know that with only six months of consistent running and buildup after nearly a year of injury layoff, I'm still pretty far from reaching my potential.  Give me another six months; my ultra season this fall is when I'll be ready to truly compete.

I knew going into the Ice Age Trail 50 Mile that I was in much better form than when I raced American River five weeks prior.  I could feel my fitness and my core stability starting to come around (I find the latter especially important in staying efficient late in an ultra).  And Saturday's race confirmed all of this—I ran a time that would win the race many years, though it was only good for fourth in this year's deep field.  David, my Salomon teammate, ran an absolutely stellar 5:56:46 to blow the rest of us away over the last third of the race.  He was only the fifth runner in the 32 year race history to break the six hour barrier.  His time was the third best ever, behind only the remarkable ultrarunner Andy Jones (5:53:41 in 1988) and 2:13 marathoner Dan Held (5:54:41 in 2000).  David's race report (linked above) is a good one—this race was an important one for him (as AR50 was for me last month), and I'm glad he got the win and got what he needed out of it.  David's a great guy, and he has some big things yet to accomplish in this sport.

Meanwhile, in the final miles of the race, Brian Condon, Zach Bitter, and myself sorted out the 2nd through 4th place spots.  I ended up at the back end of that group, but I'm good with that.  Brian ran one heck of a 50 mile debut, while Zach accomplished the difficult task of holding us off (well, me anyway), running solo with just a minute or two lead over us pretty much all race.  For my part, I feel I got everything I could have gotten out of myself on that day.  It was a big step forward from American River, and I know I'll be fitter yet in four weeks at Cayuga Trails.  I better be, as it's gonna be a hot one!

My dad, sister, and brother-in-law made the trip up to Wisconsin to cheer me on and be my crew.  This was actually the first time any of them had seen me run an ultra, so that was a treat.  It was great to have them there for support, as well as making for pretty seamless aid station transitions.  My dad is also good about yelling out useful information, like how many minutes down I am from each competitor ahead of me.  Not as big of a deal when you have some out-and-backs to gauge this, but still nice.

My splits in the race were roughly as follows:

• 10.5 miles - 1:10 (AS3)
• 17.3 miles - 2:00 (AS5)
• 21.2 miles - 2:32 (AS7, turnaround point of Section 2)
• 26.0 miles - 3:05 (AS5 (again))
• 40.2 miles - 4:52 (AS10, turnaround point of Section 3)
• 50 miles - 6:10

I know these are sometimes handy for people in the future looking for benchmarks for certain times.  For reference, Riddle was probably a minute back at 10.5, even with me at 17.3, two minutes ahead at 21.2, eight minutes ahead at 40.2, and 14 minutes up at the finish.

I've also got to give a nod to my Salomon teammate Cassie Scallon, who simply destroyed the 19-year-old course record of 7:04, running a 6:46:38.  Cassie dealt with her own injury trials last year, and after Lake Sonoma and Ice Age, she seems to be back in great form.

There was the usual microbrew-fueled revelry post-race, which was a blast and a great reward, as ever. I got to spend a few days in Wisconsin after the race as well, which was particularly restorative.  The country air and open fields were a wonderful and welcome change from my Chicago day to day.  A final thanks to my sponsors; and to Jeff Malach, the Badgerland Striders, and race volunteers for putting on a great event.  I'll be back to race again—hopefully a lot faster—of that I'm sure.

The Times They Are A...

You guessed it: Changin'.  Spring is in the air, I bought a domain name, my Achilles only hurts when Dr. Roy digs his thumbs into it, and I'm getting fitter—even running without my shirt and not feeling too embarrassed.  A lot going on recently, so this post/update will be a bit of potpourri, or as David Riddle would say, an Everything Bagel.  So without further ado, let's dig in:

Post-AR50

I recovered fairly well from American River, and by the following Tuesday, the day after the awful bombings in Boston, I was out cruising a solo marathon training run to spend some time in reflection—an act of solidarity with all those affected by the bombings.  Totally unplanned, but it just felt like the right thing to do that day.   I headed out with no water or food and actually got a pretty good run in—I started running some miles in the 5:40s around mile 20, but I started to feel the effort, finally easing off for the last 4 or 5 miles of the run.  I wanted to get after it a bit and feel some of that marathon pain.  You can see the "move," as captured by my Suunto Ambit, on the newly redesigned Movescount here.  

Salomon USA Trail Running Team Summit

Which brings me to the next topic, the kickass weekend I got to spend in Ogden, Utah at Salomon/Suunto HQ.  Most of the Salomon USA Trail Running Team was on hand for the first US team athlete summit.  We got in a handful of great trail runs and meals together, spent a full day going over many of the great new products from Salomon and Suunto, and also got outfitted with loads of new gear, including new Suunto Ambit2 S watches.  I've really enjoyed my Ambit, and the Ambit2 S (Saphire), with a sleeker design, is even cooler.  I've usually been pretty minimal with my approach to training data (for instance, I rarely use exact mileage; I just run based on time and estimate my mileage), but I find the Ambit to be really great for trail running in particular.  I love knowing how much vert I'm getting on some of my bigger training runs when I can get out of the city.  With the watch syncing with Movescount.com, I can track way more data than I'll ever need.  The watch is totally customizable for whatever sport/activity you choose, so you can have a number of display screens show exactly the things that you personally want to know while running.  It's also got customizable apps, so you can create your own functions to be used in training.  You can check out a nice preview from iRunFar here.

The weekend in Utah was a really great opportunity for the team to meet and bond.  The more we can function like a real team, the better, I think.  It helps us to build a synergistic community of support with similarly talented and likeminded folks.  And it opens doors to all sorts of new opportunities (see "Summer Travels" below)!  I actually got to room with David Riddle, which was great, since we're both based in the Midwest and we're both running Ice Age this weekend.  I also have some similar ambitions to things David has already accomplished, such as competing on Team USA at the World 100km Championships and running (really fast!) at the JFK 50 mile.

More Training

After the Salomon team summit, I caught a cold, and I ended up essentially taking a week off from training.  Between a week of recovery from AR50 and a missed week due to illness, training has still been coming along slowly it seems.  However, in the last week, I feel like I've finally turned a corner.  I had wanted to get up to the Ice Age Trail course for a big back-to-back long run, planning on covering the whole course in two days.  Because of my cold and my work schedule, that didn't happen.  However, I was able to get up for a day on the trails anyway.  I hit 22 miles on the course, running the Nordic loop—section 1 of the course—and the majority of the out-and-back section 3.  I also got in 18 miles with a nice treadmill climb the next day for my first back-to-back long run ever, actually.  I know this is bread and butter ultra training, and I'll certainly be doing that more often in the future.  My mileage has started to build a bit, and I'm finally feeling comfortable doubling most days.  I've gotten more consistent with the functional strength work and I'm feeling very strong and stable through my core.

Also, I got my bloodwork back (from pre-AR50) and found out that my iron levels are actually quite good (my ferritin count is 112).  I had been concerned I might be anemic just because I'd been feeling run down so much.  It was nice to prove that negative, but I also found out that I was slightly magnesium deficient.  Everything else was good.  Since finding that out, I've been really loading up on spinach, Swiss chard, and raw sprouted pumpkin seeds, which are about the three best food sources of magnesium.  On the whole, I'm quite happy with the way things are going now.

Ice Age Trail 50 Mile

Ice Age is coming up this Saturday, May 11, and I'm pretty excited for it.  The trails up in Kettle Morraine State Park are in great shape, and the competition will be great too.  My dad, sister, and brother-in-law will all be on hand to watch, and I'll get to see a handful of running friends old and new. I mentioned that my Salomon teammate David Riddle will be running, and also Salomon's Cassie Scallon on the women's side.  The men's race has a bunch of solid runners, just off the top of my head: Riddle, Zach Bitter, Josh Brimhall, Eric Senseman, Brian Condin, Scott Breeden, Glen Redpath, Mark Thompson...  more that I missed I'm sure.  I'm going to try to have my sister tweet updates from the course (via my handle).  I'm sure some others at aid stations and the like will be doing the same, so stay tuned!

Summer Travels

I'm actually going to be staying up in Wisconsin for a couple days after Ice Age to chill with Cassie Scallon (who's from Wisconsin originally), as I'm going to be pacing her at the Western States 100.  See, I told you the Salomon team summit led to cool opportunities!  That is just one of a handful of fun trips I have planned for the summer.  I'm headed to the Northeast for the inaugural Cayuga Trails 50 mile in June, and staying on to visit a friend in Montreal before heading to New Hampshire for the following weekend's Mt. Washington Road Race.  WS100 pacing a few weeks later, and then back to New Hampshire in July for the US Mountain Running Championships at Cranmore.  I'm also hoping to get to one of the new Ragnar Trail Relays (presented by Salomon!) this summer—either Tahoe in July or North Utah in August.

A lot of racing in the coming weeks (a few still tentative and not posted on the sidebar schedule), should be fun!

American River 50 Mile Race Report

1st Place - 6:08:18

This race came too soon for me.  I wasn't ready, but I threw everything I had at it, and welcomed the victory, even if the depth of the field did not compare to some recent years.  I was delirious and utterly spent as I made the final climb to Auburn, alternately walking and "running" (if it could be called running) on the steep, early section of the "dam wall."  But even after the incline mellowed past the Last Gasp aid (47.56 miles), my walk-run dichotomy continued.  My legs were so far gone that I just couldn't run more than a minute or so at a time, even on a mild incline.  These final miles were some of the longest of my life, and as I mercifully crossed the line, I pointed skyward—"For you, mom."  

Not to get too heavy, but my mom passed away last year due to gastric cancer.  I also spent most of the year unable to run due to an Achilles injury sustained in a freak cycling accident; this coming just after I had quit my job as an attorney to pursue my running more seriously.  The struggle with the latter obviously pales in comparison to the former, but when running is such an important part of one's life for so many reasons, the daily toll you feel from not being able to run can really compound.  My mom and my family were at peace with her situation, and through the pain and grief there were also blessings; but one of her wishes before she passed was to see me healthy again, pursuing my goals and nurturing my gift.  She was my biggest supporter (along with my dad and sister), and the reason I'm a runner.  She recognized my ability as a grade school student and encouraged me to go out for cross country.  Without that initial impetus, and her ardent support through the years, I may not be a runner at all and almost certainly not the runner I am today.  I couldn't help but think about all this on the trails, as I spent the last 35 miles running alone.  I've run several other races over the last few months as I've begun my comeback, but none required such an inner struggle, such an element of faith in getting through something I was not yet well-prepared to do.  

I've been struggling a bit in getting back to form in training, and I've only been able to do a few workouts and a few runs over 20 miles (I think four in total, two of them races—a marathon and a 50k).  My Achilles is at about 99%, and I'm thankful for that, but there have been a handful of trying setbacks.  Among these was a bout with a stomach virus last month that forced me to withdraw from the Way Too Cool 50k, which, like American River, is put on by Julie Fingar and the NorCalUltra folks.  (I also had to pull out of last year's AR50 due to my Achilles injury.)  Julie has been very supportive through all this, and I felt I owed her a good performance.  I felt I owed the same to Salomon, my shoe and apparel sponsor.  Salomon has been wonderful, supporting and encouraging me through my extended injury trials (not to mention providing great gear!), and keeping me on the team even after a nearly non-existent 2012 racing season.  I didn't know if I could produce on Saturday, but I knew I would do everything I could to fight well.

Race morning started early, with a 3:15 wakeup call in order to get up to Auburn, drop off my car, and shuttle bus down to Sacramento for the start.  Before the start, I met and chatted with Eric Senseman before getting in a quick warmup: a light set of dynamic warmup exercises, a few minutes of easy jogging, and a few form drills and strides.  Once the race started, Eric and I continued chatting and ran together, clicking off miles in the 6:15-6:20 range on the mostly-flat bike path.  We were leading the race in short order, and nobody really went out with us.  The early miles passed by quickly enough, but my legs were feeling the effort more than one would hope this early.  I don't know if going any slower would have made much of a difference.  I wasn't aerobically challenged or anything, I just seem to be lacking endurance muscularly after such a long layoff last year.  

Shortly before the Sunrise aid (14.61—reached in ~1:32), Eric let me know that the pace was a touch hot for him and that he was going to back off.  I thought about doing the same, but I ended up just maintaining pace, slowly pulling away over the coming miles.  After our brief foray into the bluffs around mile 17, I was out of sight, and unsure of how closely Eric might be following.  I was starting to get worried about how poor my legs were feeling just 20 miles into the race, but there was nothing much to do about it.  I was in the lead, and I figured I might as well try to maintain.  A gradual climb brought me to the marathon mark in 2:45:18 by my watch.  A few minutes later I was at the Beals Point aid in 2:49/2:50.  After a quick attempt at emptying rocks from my shoes—a bust, turns out the rocks were in my socks, and would stay there 'til the end—I grabbed my refilled water bottle, a bit of food, and got back on my way.  As I looped around and exited the park near Beals Point, I saw Eric coming in.  I had about three minutes on him.

Shortly after Beals, the course turns to mostly singletrack until the final climb.  I had heard from a few people that this section gets a bit technical, particularly in the several miles before and after Buzzard's Cove (34.67).  I was feeling pretty rough by 30 miles, but drew confidence from my experience in previous ultras.  In particular, my mind drifted to the Lakefront 50 mile in 2011, where I salvaged a solid time despite being in a pretty bad way by 25 miles; as well as the 2011 UROC race, where I felt like dropping out 30 miles into the race, yet somehow managed to run another 32 miles and pull out a third place showing.  I guess my point is that I'm learning what my limits are, and that those are different from what my body is telling me.  I'm learning to focus simply on efficiency of movement, one foot in front of the other, having faith that you can continue, that you can make it through.  I've read of people visualizing animals (e.g. antelopes) to help reinforce this thinking.  For some reason, I kept thinking of Geoff Roes, and how smooth he was running when he flew by my on the Dragon's Back section of trail at UROC.  That trail, like the singletrack of American River, is not overly technical, but there are enough rocks, roots, and steps to throw you off.  Yet Geoff just glided over that terrain effortlessly.  I tried to do the same.

I made it to Horseshoe Bar (38.14) at 4:20 into the race, and I began to gain some confidence.  I hadn't heard any cheering at aid stations after I left them, meaning that no one was pursuing me within earshot anyway.  I kept working methodically and efficiently, though I was slowly beginning to fade.  I had already been walking some of the short, steep uphills, and I found myself struggling more with each passing mile.  Any time I encountered steps (or more accurately, step-like rocks or roots), I had to hike them because if I pushed off and lifted the opposite leg enough to clear the "step" I felt like my hamstrings would cramp.  Fortunately, my core stability seemed to be holding up—it was just the leg muscles giving me problems (not electrolyte-based, I don't believe, as I was popping plenty of S-Caps).

I tried to mentally prepare for the final climb, knowing it would be a grind, but it hardly mattered, I was so spent.  I walked a fair bit of the steep first mile of the climb.  I was losing a lot of time to the ghosts of the trail.  When I went through the marathon in 2:45, I knew this was quick enough to project a sub-6 based on others' splits in previous years, and I think I actually maintained a solid enough pace through most of the singletrack.  But come dam wall, the wheels were coming off fast.  As I went through Last Gasp, someone said I could still dip under 6 if I booked it.  My watch was at about 5:45, and with 2.5 miles to go, I was well aware that wasn't happening.  For quite some time, I'd been experiencing that sort of delirium and slowing brain function where it's hard to do basic math or form coherent thoughts.  All I could think was: move as quickly as you can manage, just get to the line.

It wasn't pretty, but I made it around the final bend, and came through the tape—an overwhelming sense of relief, a weight being lifted.  It felt good to be there, to be alive, to have covered 50 miles on foot while pushing the contours of my physical capability.  That may all sound a bit cheesy, but this one felt special.  I think it was a number of factors: emotions wrapped up in my mom's passing, the redemptive nature on several fronts, and my relative unpreparedness and how deeply I had to dig.  I thought I might cry, but instead I just stood there for about 20 seconds, unable to move, while Julie asked if I wanted a chair.  Instead, I lied down on the pavement, realizing I no longer needed to be upright.

After a brief (supine) post-race interview from the announcer, I made my way to a medical cot.  Eric came in shortly thereafter, clocking a very solid 6:20:58.  Eric is young (24) and coming on strong; definitely one to watch.  He's also a very nice guy (a shocker in the trail community, I know).  I'm sure he'll be in the mix next month at Ice Age.  I quickly downed a couple Gatorades on my cot and answered a few questions with the Auburn newspaper.  I don't really remember any details of this interview.  The delirium-factor was still there, and I was probably babbling some sort of nonsense.  Finally, as I devoured a double veggie burger and finished my third Gatorade, I began to feel like a human being again.  Eric, his very nice crew (sisters, mom, and girlfriend), and I chatted about the race, and eventually broke into some celebratory wine.  

Paulo Medina, a local runner (though originally from Peru), came through in third a short time later.  I got to spend some time drinking beer and hanging out with Paulo and some others from the Folsom Trail Runners and the Auburn Running Company that afternoon; a very cool and welcoming group of folks.  A trip with them to the Auburn Ale House for dinner capped a great day in California.  Congratulations to all of the finishers!  And a big thank you to my sponsors, and also to Julie Fingar, Anne Brown, the NorCalUltra team, and all the race volunteers.  They really have this race dialed in and put on a great event in a beautiful location.  I'd love to come back again in the future, especially when I'm a little more on top of my game.  Until then... see you out on the trails!

Coverage:
- Running Times
- Auburn Journal

A Shift in Perspective

An isolated data point can be a funny thing.  It can tell so much in a flash, but it's just that—a snapshot—and can thus be equally deceptive or open for misinterpretation.  I think I'm guilty of the latter recently.  

It is well-trodden territory on this blog that I was injured and essentially not running for the the majority of last year.  Yet in coming back in 2013, I've run some pretty decent results pretty quickly.  In particular, the 2:25:39 marathon I ran in Napa Valley three weeks ago.  The problem is that I was equating this singular data point to my fitness, thinking: 'If I can run 2:25, I must be fit, since there are times when I've been plenty fit and ran slower than that.'  But I didn't run 2:25 because of my fitness or training, but rather in spite of it.  Which is of course encouraging!—it means there is a lot of room for improvement.  Yet I found myself thinking, again and again, if I can run 2:25, I should be able to do x or y in training.  But I'm realizing there are just many holes and weak spots in my current level of fitness, and that despite running an objectively "good" marathon (for me, anyway), it's still going to be quite the long road back.   And the real takeaway is that I need to take that road SLOWLY.  

I need to forget about doubling, forget about crushing some workout, doing overly hard long runs, etc.  For quite a while.  I need to just get very consistent right now, staying very on top of functional strength work and recovery, and taking my sweet time easing back into challenging workouts and long runs.  And I need to adjust my race goals and expectations.  I'm a competitive person, and that is generally advantageous in racing, but I need to stop thinking like I'm on top of my game.  I should be happy for the next several months just to get the best out of myself on any given race day, realizing that I may not race particularly well until September or October.  I want to be up there with the best, competing to win every race I'm in, but that's not my level right now.  And thinking as much has been detrimental recently.  

More specifically, for my training, I'm thinking of switching to a longer 10-day cycle (as opposed to the standard 7-day), as I really have no particular need to do long runs on weekends.  It will allow me to more easily schedule easy days, but also to include more moderate aerobic running without feeling like I'm cramming it into the schedule.  

Nothing is wrong physically (apart from being out of shape, ha).  I'm finally healthy, and for that I am grateful.  But mentally, I've been getting too down recently, and putting too much pressure on myself.  I'm starting to study for some exams now, and I'm starting to think a little more seriously about my next steps in my non-running profession.  As I feel that I just need to back off of things a bit, I may stop blogging my weekly training (and as I'm not planning on a weekly schedule, the training won't really lend itself to weekly updates anyway).  I'll still follow up with race reports and likely the other odd post now and then as well.

Paleozoic 50k Race Report - "2nd place", 3:50:18

When I first looked at the official results on Sunday, I was listed as 10th in 3:50:18.   I'm currently listed as 8th (as of Monday morning, 3/18), but it sounds like that may change or the results might be modified again.  So I just say second place in quotes, because while not official (as of now), I was in fact second place in the race I ran (a race of two?), which was between me and winner Brian Condon.  I'm not sure how many people who finished behind me actually ran the correct course, but I am sure that no one in front of me did, except for Brian.  This is because we were in the lead the entire race and no one ever passed us.

EDIT (3/18): An email from the RD stated: "Please consider our currently posted 'Results' and 'Webcast' splits as 'incomplete and inaccurate.'  They will be adjusted."  So we'll see how things shake out in the end.  

This all happened primarily because the course was not marked in time for the race.  In the future, the course needs to be marked ideally the day before, or at the very least, a couple hours in advance of the race start.  It is still a great course on some of the best trails in the Chicago area—the Palos trail system—and everything else about the race went well: aid stations were well stocked, volunteers were helpful and friendly, etc.

The course consisted of a 15.65 mile route that was supposed to be run twice for the 50k race.  This route was subdivided into a 10+ mile loop on mostly double track gravel trails and a 5+ mile loop on dirt singletrack.  Between the big amount of snow we had last week, some warmer weather since, and now cold again, the trails were just a total muddy, icy mess.  A guy on a bike was sent out to mark the first loop shortly before the race started, but with the awful trail conditions, he didn't make it very far before I passed him.  There was also an accidental mixup where a red disc—signaling a left turn—was placed where a yellow disc—right turn—should have been.  I had to turn around and backtrack a few times and started running with Brian, as we worked on figuring out the course based on my memory, guesswork, and rough knowledge of the trails.  This led to just standing around multiple times, talking to cops trying to figure it out, turning around and retracing our steps, etc.  Overall, it only added about 0.4 miles to our first loop, but a fair bit more time due to the standing.  

A number of competitors cut short small sections of the first loop by accident, but nothing major.  The major issue came in the second, shorter loop, which was a bit more confusing.  It was being marked while we were running it, and Brian and I passed the marker (the RD, I believe), and he yelled some instructions to us as we passed.  Again, my knowledge of the trails and the couple minutes I spent with the map the night before came in handy, and we managed to run the right route, but it seems other people didn't.  I think that most people accidentally made this into a ~3 mile loop instead of the 5+ it was supposed to be.  I also think that this mistake was made on both occasions that we hit that section of the course, meaning a lot of people ran ~27 miles total.  Some may have been more like 28 or 29 if they only got mixed up on this loop once, or if they also added on extra mileage like Brian and I did.  This would explain all of the people in the results between me and Brian anyway.  I'm not sure what sort of mileage the folks behind us may have run.  I was glad I was wearing my Suunto Ambit, just so I knew how far we had run.  In the end, it was 31.7 miles for both Brian and me.

EDIT (3/18): Per the aforementioned email, the race organization was specifically instructed by the FPDCC not to mark the course (with the colored disks anyway) until race morning.  On most occasions, this would not be a problem.  But as I noted, the trail conditions hampered the progress of the bikers marking the course.  Apart from sending those guys out a touch earlier, I'm not sure what else the organizers could have done; just unlucky circumstances.  

Brian and I ran together for most of the race, before he slowly pulled away around 23 miles.  I (and I assume he) knew that was coming.  I was a bit labored all day.  I think between having the flu (or similar stomach virus) last week, and going a bit too hard in training on Thursday, I was just still sort of run down.  From the start it felt like a difficult training day and nothing like a race.  Throw in the mud and ice, which really sapped leg strength, and I had a pretty tough day.  All that said, it was just what I needed.  I've got the American River 50 Mile in less than three weeks and needed to get in two long training efforts before that race.  So 50k on the trails on Saturday was the first of those (I'm going to shoot for back to back hilly long runs next week).  It was great to share the trails with Brian for a while, and much easier to get in the long effort in the context of a race.  I also found out Brian, who lives in Madison, is racing Ice Age in May, so I'll see him again up there.

Overall, despite things being a bit hectic, I really enjoyed the run.  My friends Dan and Rich both came out for the 25k race, and Dan, Brian (and his friends and family), and I grabbed some Irish food and beer at The Irish Legend in Willow Springs afterward.  Always love a few pints post-race, especially the black stuff on St. Paddy's day weekend.

Training, March 11 - 17

Monday: Off - still recovering from stomach virus.

Tuesday: PM - 10 miles easy.

Wednesday: PM - 8 miles easy.

Ran part of the run with Dan Kittaka after picking up some new racing flats (NB 1600s) for short road races.

Thursday: AM - 15 miles moderate.

Ran about 6:20 pace for most of the run; pretty tired by the end, definitely still a bit run down from illness.

PM - 5 miles easy.

Friday: AM - 7 miles easy.
Legs pretty shot, might have overdone it a bit yesterday, still coming off of illness.  

Saturday: Paleozoic 50k - "2nd place", 3:50:18 - 32 miles total.
In addition to being tenth place, I was also second place; explanation and race report forthcoming.

Sunday: AM - 6 miles easy.
Not too beat up all things considered.  I was pretty sore after yesterday's race in mud and ice, but felt decent for the easy regeneration run today.

Summary: 83 miles
Not too much going on this week.  I had the flu or some similar stomach virus last weekend, so I was taking it relatively easy coming back.  When you get super-dehydrated like I was, it can take a bit to get back to normal.  The doctor had recommended that I take it pretty easy for a week.  In light of that, I might have pushed a bit too much by doubling on Thursday with a longer quality run.  And obviously a trail 50k on Saturday as well.  But I really needed the training stimulus (American River 50 Miler is just three weeks away!), so I went ahead and raced anyway.  No functional strength work this week, mostly because I was taking it slow coming back, and then was just shot later in the week.  I'll get back to form next week.

Not Too Cool (A Non-Race Report) + Training, March 4 - 10

Not Too Cool Fifty Zero K

Well I was supposed to run the Way Too Cool 50k race on Saturday out in California, but that didn't happen.  I was feeling recovered enough from my effort at the previous week's Napa Valley Marathon, but I came down with a nasty stomach virus the night before the race.  I was fine all the way through a morning run with Chris Vargo (eventual second-place finisher!), a coffee with Rich Hanna and Vargo, and packet pickup mid-afternoon.  But by 5 p.m. I was clutching porcelain and losing all of my calories for the day.  I spent the next 8 hours or so this way, kept trying to get down a little bit of water or electrolytes, but couldn't hold anything.  I nearly passed out a couple times just trying to make it to the bathroom as I was getting super dehydrated and weak.  So I eventually went to the hospital and got 2 liters of fluid via an IV and some meds.

Not a fun way to spend the night, and I was disappointed to miss the fun the next day.  The pace was hot, but from what I hear, since the course change a couple years ago (with no more two-way traffic), the course was faster and due for a record-breaking run in good conditions.  I'm by no means 100%, but it would have been fun to mix it up out there.  I got to run on the trails a bit on Wednesday afternoon and they were gorgeous.  I had a blast pushing the pace a bit on the descents and just running some rolling single-track.  I also got to take out my new Suunto Ambit for its first proper trail run (if you can call 7 miles proper).  

I'm finally feeling close to normal today (Monday, 3/11), hoping to get back to running tomorrow.  I've got another 50k coming up this weekend—the Paleozoic 50k in the Palos-area forest preserves.  I'm going to take it pretty easy until then, and 50k might be a bit of a stretch, but I really need the training stimulus with the American River 50 mile less than four weeks away.  If I feel too beat, I'll just drop out.

Training, March 4 - 10

Monday: 2 PM - 8 miles easy/moderate.

Found a great little state forest called Las Posadas at the head of the Napa Valley, which had some beautiful forested trails.  Got a little lost and ran a few miles farther than intended, but it was good to flush the legs out from yesterday's race.  

Tuesday: Off - Not really planned, but I was traveling up the coast with my dad, the weather got crappy, and I didn't get it in while we were sightseeing.  

Wednesday: 8 AM - 8 miles moderate.

Ran in Santa Rosa from the hotel where I was staying.  Got a fair bit of elevation and also got stuck in a little morning hail storm.

3 PM - 7 miles moderate (trails).

Ran on the trails just north of the Way Too Cool course, north of the river, off of Foresthill Road.  Great being out on trails, which I just so rarely get to run.  I posted a few pics from that run below (I was running with my Salomon S-LAB 5 hydration pack, so I had my phone on me).  Couldn't resist opening up a bit on the trails.

Thursday: 4 PM - 6 miles easy w/ a few strides.

Ran the bike path in Roseville where I was staying for the Way Too Cool race.

Friday: 8 AM - 4 miles easy.

Ran with Vargo and some of his former coworkers from Fleet Feet Sacramento.  Tagged along with Vargo for coffee with Rich Hanna afterward.  Very nice guy, and a heck of a runner.

Saturday: Off - sick.

Sunday: Off - sick.

Summary: 33 miles

Week was thrown off a bit when I got sick, but not a big deal in the end; it was a recovery week anyway.  Just frustrating (a) to miss the race, and (b) to have yet another setback.  It seems like I just can't get things rolling on all cylinders here.  But nothing much to do but keep plugging away.