Western States 100 Pacing Report- A Coaches Perspective

The hot Californian sun was beating down on us as we waited to finally see our runner at the dry and dusty Robinson Flat aid station. Robinson Flat is at mile 29.7 on the Western States 100 Endurance Run course. Our runner, Madelyn Blue left Squaw Valley at 5:00am. The online tracking software used to track runners wasn't working perfectly. We had no real idea of how Maddy was doing as we sat and baked in the dry heat looking tirelessly at our phones hoping a signal would present itself so we could once again try to check her progress online.

Go!

Upon leaving Squaw our flatlander from Kentucky, Maddy had climbed to over a mile and a half in the sky climbing up the escarpment from Olympic Village in Squaw. What a wild commencement to a 100 mile journey on foot with a 30 hour time limit.

There are 4 check-ins en route to Robinson Flat aid station. At a 30 hour pace she should have arrived at 12:55. Some of the check-ins en route hadn't registered though and so we weren't sure where she was. The two check-ins that had actually worked showed that her pace had fallen behind a 30 hour pace and as mentioned above, the time cut is 30 hours!

Jeremy playing the hurry up and wait game.

My mind was racing as we sat and waited. I was very concerned that Maddy would start too quickly and so I endlessly warned her that starting in such a rush would lead to a crash during the second half of the race and a possible DNF. (Did Not Finish). In turn, Maddy was running comfortably and confidently. I was hoping with all my being I hadn't coached her to be too comfortable. On the flip side I knew that I couldn't push her in the early stages of the race. It would spell disaster in the end when it mattered. Early on, you should push yourself at a level you could sustain infinitely and hope that your all is enough. If you're not comfortable you're pushing too hard. Running with anxiety in the early stages will cause a definite crash near mile 50-70. Maddy was running confident and calm, mentally ready to tackle this race. A true triumph was in the makings.


She came rolling in to Robinson Flat a little after 1:00. This was a little over the 30 hour time cut and only an hour before the time limit for getting pulled from the course. She heard a warning blow from the air horn and thought she missed the cut! She was doing OK though... It was only the warning blow! She came in covered in dust and had apparently fallen. She was upset that she had ran out of food since she was slightly over anticipated pace. She was doing exactly what she needed to do. She was running her own race and this was the key to success. You do what you can do and hope for the best. Run confident!

I was ecstatic that she was there and on time. The whole morning I sat and prayed. "Please just make it here so I can coach you a little more...I just need to say a few more things!" I was a bundle of nerves. She was running well though.

As our crew refilled her running pack with nutrition, I told her she was holding the same pace since the beginning. I gave her some pointers and let her know that now was the time to start picking it up a little bit. The next section was tough though. It held the infamous "canyons" which provide no shade and blasts runners with heat. Maddy was very upset when she arrived. The course was tough. The trail was at high elevation, technical and rocky and she was having trouble making time, but she was staying on track and running a wise race.

I told her confidently, "There is no room for emotion. You are a machine. Do work! There is NO room for emotions. Just do it! You've got this."

I warned her to pick up the pace only gradually. "Don't make up time too quickly or you will crash!"

We left Robinson Flat aid station about 1:30pm and I couldn't believe we wouldn't see her again until mile 55 when I would start pacing her. Part of me was elated and part of me was still nervous that my runner had to go another 7 hours without seeing her crew. Time to let the little bird fly. Seeing your crew is uplifting and motivating, but Maddy's plan only provided one crew stop in between the start and mile 55. Alas, I got to coach her a little at mile 30 and now I could only wait for my runner at mile 55, Michigan Bluff. Alas, she was on her way to Michigan Bluff and I had to sit and nervously fret about her whereabouts for another 7 hours. It's a coaches job to worry a bit...

We had a great crew and Maddy had a thorough support network. Maddy's mom and step-dad were there and they were real troopers, totally vested in this crazy venture. They put up with Maddy's friends and all of our vulgarity and antics. Rhonda and Jeremy provided expertise in crewing as they're familiar with efficiency in crewing. They've been through "The Shellhamer School" and paced and crewed me several times at Umstead. Sunny, (appropriately named), lives in California near the course and is Maddy's "BFF", Heidi has been to Umstead and paced Rhonda in a hundred as well. The experience the crew had was great, but the most vital aspect was how well we "meshed". It was great to have some laughs during the week prior to the race and then get to hang out during the waiting game that is crewing.

After a tasty and enjoyable lunch in Auburn we headed to Michigan Bluff. Sitting at the restaurant my nervous energy was growing into incredible excitement as I saw Madelyn's race plan begin to solidify and work. Her placement was moving up the field at each check-in location. She was slowly and steadily gaining several places every 5 miles or so and her splits were even. Her comfortable start was paying off and she was passing the folks who charged out of the gait early on.

I took a nap in the car as the rest of our crew went to Michigan Bluff to wait on Maddy. I needed some rest to prepare for my role of drill sergeant, cheerleader, motivator, coach, friend, story teller, time keeper, pace setter, and whip-cracker!

Thanks to accurate estimates from the online tracking software which was finally working, we knew when Maddy would be arriving and she was right on schedule.

She showed up moving well with strong form, but with a woozy and blurry mind. It was time to start getting in some gel and get some sugar feeding her brain. She recovered quickly and started speaking coherently once more. Jeremy says the worst she shape she was in the whole race in his opinion was rolling into Michigan Bluff at mile 55. Nevertheless, her continued fighting spirit urged her forward to get to work and keep moving forward!

Waiting at Michigan Bluff to start my work!

She had made it through the toughest part of the race in terms of crewing. She could see her crew and have access to her gear five times now at various times until the finish. I was thrilled she made it to Michigan Bluff with good form. I was with her from Michigan Bluff onward and I would drag her across the line if need be, however, this strong chick wouldn't need it. She was tough as nails. We left Michigan Bluff at about 9:15pm. Maddy had been running since 5am and was still ready to tackle the challenge ahead.

We only had to run 4 miles until the Bath Road aid station until she would see her crew again. The whole crew was there and ran with us up the hill to Foresthill, the 100K mark! (62 miles) Rhonda did an awesome job during this stretch of about 2 miles from Bath Road to Foresthill pushing Maddy. (This small stretch allows crews to run with pacers and runners). Rhonda was doing 2 minutes on with 1 minute off intervals. She got Maddy to work the road section hard. I saw how well Maddy responded to this strategy and so I used this same tactic throughout our next 40 miles to get Maddy to "move!"

We once again made it through another aid station in less than 60 seconds as was the goal for the day. The descent down from Foresthill was a BEAR. It was crazy steep and Maddy's quads were borderline blown, so we descended gingerly. We had already made up a lot of time since Michigan Bluff where I picked her up and I saw no need to trash her body on a very steep descent. In turn, she climbed well once we finally reached the bottom of the canyon. Within several short hours we were already slightly under the 30 hour time-cut!

I was hyper-aware of every factor that alerted me to Maddy's condition. I paid attention to her breathing rate, her form, her stride length, speed while descending, etc. I continually gauged when to push her and when to allow recovery. When she started to show signs of great fatigue I would lay off the commands to "Pick it up!" and "Close The Gap"! (the distance between us).

As the sun set, the serene mountains grew dark and played tricks on our eyes. The stretch from Foresthill to the crossing of the American River is the last long stretch with no crew access. As we ran Maddy seemed increasingly coherent but upon entering the Cal aid station, Maddy heard a rustling in the woods and was joking about a mountain lion. I promptly assured her not to worry, that in deed it was not a cougar, but aliens. Comically, the Cal aid station has a bunch of aliens hanging from trees which add to this festive aid station in the middle of nowhere.

Maddy asked to sit for the first time at the Cal-2 Peachstone Aid Station. 70.7 miles of running and she hadn't asked to sit until that point! She took a quick bathroom break. While she was enjoying the natural facilities in the woods for a few seconds I checked my watch. I was ELATED! We had further grown our buffer on the 30 hour time limit. We were ten minutes ahead of schedule now. Maddy had worked HARD to gain this buffer, and so I allowed her to walk from the aid station. Within several seconds of beginning the long 3 mile descent down the mountain from the aid station, she doubled over and began retching, dry heaving for several minutes but nothing would come out. We managed the situation and kept moving forward. This is, unfortunately, part of the hundred mile game. Sometimes we get sick in these things. You try to find the source and correct it.

Maddy's weight was doing great. She hadn't lost any weight due to dehydration or sodium depletion which is a plus. We were trying to manage electrolytes and fuel intake as best as possible. With a little soda and fuel she felt better and we trotted down the hill towards the crossing of the American River. The crossing of the American River by runners in the WSER100 is one of the most iconic scenes in the entirety of running.

I was anxious to not lose the small buffer we had cut into the 30 hour time limit. We were still dangerously close to the 30 hour time limit. She would have to literally NOT slow down at all, during the last 30 miles of a hundred mile run forcing an even split or a negative split. This is almost unheard of in a hundred mile run. Even though her stomach protested slightly we had to make haste. The gap from me to her grew with each passing moment and this is when I really had to bring my "A" game, working her non-stop.

I'd say:

"2 minutes! We're running 2 more minutes! Then we slow for 1 minute!"

"Run to that tree!"

"Close the gap! Just because I'm walking that doesn't mean slow down! Close the gap to me! Come back to me! Let's GO MADDY!"

Maddy's feet were also feeling the effects of running nearly 3 marathons on trails in the western mountains. I stripped her shoes off and revealed moist wet feet with blisters developing. We ditched her orthotic footbeds which were beginning to hurt her feet and I dressed the blisters with duct tape and dried her pruny, rotting feet. She was pretty mortified but I wasn't too shocked- not to discredit her badassery, (because she had some legitimate flesh woundage), but I've seen much worse! I knew she was in good enough shape after all the running she had done that day.

I assured her she had to try to maintain good form for the last marathon even though it would hurt because of the blisters. "It's only a flesh wound! You WILL heal in weeks, and YOUR BUCKLE WILL LAST FOREVER! Let's move!"

Even with the foot issues and dry retching, we made incredible time to the American River. I guess this makes enough sense due to the downhill nature of running down to water...regardless, we were doing very well. I was shocked at our splits given the circumstances. When you're on the threshold of barely finishing in time we couldn't afford one single slow stretch, and we had just made it through our first patch of sickness and foot-care and come out ahead once again.

We blew through the aid station on the near side of the river, (Rucky Chucky), to get across immediately to the other aid station. We were at mile 78! Maddy warned me to not be concerned if she clawed into my shoulders upon crossing to prevent a fall but I assured her there were some amazing volunteers at the crossing of the river!

A tight cable is strewn across the river and they have volunteers in wet suits standing on the downside of the cable. The water is fast and forceful but clear. They have visible glow-sticks attached to underwater rocks which work great! Volunteers point out where to step for swift and safe passage. Maddy made it across in no time at all! Only 22 miles left!

Our crew was supposed to be at the aid station but they weren't in sight. The cold water was just what Maddy (and I) needed. It was 4am and the wake up call from frigid water is undeniable.

We began the giant climb up towards the Green Gate aid station. I had been pretty sure it would be a long jaunt for a crew to get to Rucky Chucky far-side, and so I wasn't too concerned that they weren't there. I assumed they would be at the top of the climb somewhere near Green Gate. Luckily Maddy was in top form after the river crossing rebirth and she was climbing well!

Halfway up the climb we saw a whole mess of headlamps plodding down the gravel road towards us. It was our crew! They looked worse off than Maddy and I . They had lugged coolers and packs and gear for several hours trying to get to us! Sleepless and carrying awkward coolers and such, we were appreciative to say the least!

We made it to Green Gate walking for several minutes uphill with our crew. Maddy had another dry-heaving episode en-route and they got to witness the joys of running a hundred miles.

Maddy changed out of her wet clothes in a lighted port-a-potty at Green Gate. I waited and chugged a frappuccino that my delivery-servant-boy Jeremy had hiked in. While pacing the last 45 miles of a 100 mile run, there really is no "self" you basically abandon any thoughts of fatigue or what you want or need. The entire world revolves around your runner, 100% dedication to aiding them in reaching their goal. 100's are a team sport. It was nice for our crew to be there at that aid station so I could take care of my own nutrition for a moment, because shortly thereafter Maddy would get sick again, and I would be hyper-focused on nothing but her for another 6 hours. They really were a great crew. Heidi stayed positive and chatty and helped the conversation entertain as we all got to experience the race as one unit for that span of time at Green Gate aid station.

We left Green Gate at 4:55am. Exactly at the 30 hour cut off. The retching episode paired with the climb up to Green Gate had stolen back some time from us. Only seconds after leaving Green Gate poor Maddy was on the ground retching and dry-heaving again. She thought her race was over but I knew otherwise. Her lows were always followed by highs and I had a plan. It became apparent why she was retching.

I made her take a salt-tab and I gave her my last Honey Stinger Waffle. This was thankfully the last retching episode she had in the Western States 100. The sun rose shortly thereafter. It was a new day and we were feeling pretty dandy for having run 85 miles on trails. Immediately after the sun rose we chatted like normal and Maddy was pleasantly coherent. For a few miles it was just like buds out for a nice sunrise run. This was only an hour or so after Maddy thought her day was done.

Miles 80-90 are probably the easiest ten miles on the course. The climbs are mild, the trail is smooth, and the temps are still cool and comfortable.

Mile 82. Coach is snapping pictures to document! Run!

Closing in on mile 90 the newly risen sun had lost its appeal. Cumulative fatigue set in and motivation waned. Due to the time crunch Maddy didn't even to get to say "Hi" to uber-stud Hal Koerner, (former WSER100 winner with a physique as impressive as his race resume...yeah ladies- he's taken anyways, move on. hahahaha) Hal and his running shop, Rogue Valley, run the aid station at mile 90, Brown's Bar. Maddy was rough getting into Brown's Bar aid. She tried to sit and before I could say anything the aid station worker barked, "This is a 60 second TV time out, you gotta keep moving!" Thanks for sharing the pacing job, bud!

I had been whipping Maddy like a bad mule the whole time we were descending to Brown's Bar. Her feet hurt and she was tired but she couldn't toss her chance at a buckle due to fatigue and blisters. She had to pick it up. She tried to come up with several reasons to slow but I promptly discarded all of them. She was SUPPOSED to feel "tired". She was SUPPOSED to feel "messed up". It's a 100 mile run. NOTHING is tougher. Her form was good and she wasn't injured. She was just tired. "Pick it up Maddy! Let's GO! Do not waste this!"

The trail has two large climbs in the last ten miles. If you are RIGHT on the time cuts you don't have time to spare by slowing down on the final climbs in the heat. It would be a brutal finish but the draw of the line would hopefully motivate her. I knew she had to dig deep and accept as much misery as possible to push the pace up.

Maddy was so wasted she walked the downhill out of Brown's Bar. She said, "I'm done. I've used every motivational strategy possible. There is nothing left. There's no way I can endure this much agony for another several hours." I replied "You don't. You only have to get to the next aid station on time. One step at a time. One goal at a time. Stay strong mentally. Let's GO! "

"There is no room for emotion! You are a machine. Do work! There is NO room for emotions! Just do it!"

Maddy began to fade and not respond to my motivational strategies and I began to freak out that she was SO close and would miss the time cut by several minutes. I literally thought, "Holy shit. This chick has run the perfect pace, managed all the variables, and she won't push for a few more hours. She has given her all and CAN'T come up so close but still short."

She was completely hollow, blank, ghostly. I've been there and I know what it's like. I've seen this in not only myself but in others while pacing 100's. This was it. The one point in time where she could push through the crux and reach victory or fail. Maddy realized my nervous energy and angst meant business. My freaking out meant this was that moment to make it happen. "7 months of work, the chance to succeed, it all happens now!!! This is it Maddy! What you've worked for!"

She responded beautifully. It was inspiring. The whole day was inspiring honestly, seeing that much progress and mental strength. She destroyed the climb up to Hwy 49. I couldn't believe she found a way to motivate herself once again but she had. I stayed on her heals yelling the whole time, "Climb! Move to the top! Get to the end of this green tunnel! Breath harder! Breath harder! Why can't I hear your breath!? You're not working hard enough! Move!"

She did it on her own. She dug through mental trenches so deep anyone who hasn't attempted running a mountain 100 miler will never know the depths of mental hell she encountered, and came out on the other side.

We reached the Highway 49 aid station as the 30 hour whistle blew. We were still somehow on the time cut and only had 6.7 miles to go. The last climb however is like a sauna. The heat blasts off the rocks into your face. It's demoralizing. It's oppressive. If you suffer one bout of nausea, one weak moment, your pace might falter and the buckle may be lost. You might not finish. 

We had to be calculated. I yelled to our crew at Hwy 49, "No backpack! Just one water bottle! There are plenty of aid stations now! She needs to be light and MOVE!" The air held an intense vibe. Maddy looked stunned and overwhelmed at Hwy 49 aid station. She stood there blank faced and speechless as we stripped her bottles and seconds later were forcing her back out onto the trail.

Running down to No Hands Bridge aid at mile 97 I kept yelling, "I know it hurts, but you must run this descent! You must bank some time to account for the climb up to the finish! Screw the blisters! You need to run!" Maddy dug and dug and pushed and pushed. We made it to No Hands at mile 96.8 with one hour and eight minutes to get to the finish. We drenched her in ice water and she screamed an incoherent slur of shock and awakening.


Then she moved like the wind.

I started the normal strategy, "Run to the end of that shadow!" Run to this, run to that... but then she kept running. She was an animal out for blood. She was destroying the final climb on a 100 mile day. It was shocking and awesome. It was raw and carnal. She was giving it everything she had left. Moving powerfully and confidently even as the heat blasted us radiating off the rocks which faced us head on. I couldn't have been more excited and proud to see this fire in her. She was running 10 minute miles, uphill. Insanity.

Running the last mile in from Robie Point.

We got to the Robie Point aid station at mile 98.9 and we were told we only had 1.3 to go. I knew victory was in grasp for her. Our crew awaited us for the final mile and ran it in together. A team victory. Many working parts facilitating this human feat.

I was watching my watch the whole time and knew this was her strongest split the whole day. She had chomped at least 15 minutes off the 30 hour time cut in one stretch. Entering the finishing track at Placer County High School was awesome.

I felt relief, joy, pride, excitement, fatigue, everything all at once.

There is nothing like pacing someone for the last half of a 100 mile run. You see them battle and struggle more than they ever have in their life. Seeing someone pull through and stick out a perfect strategy is more than I can describe. The mental strength, confidence and steadfastness it takes to not grow anxious at the start and push too hard is almost overwhelming to comprehend. The only way to run a 100 mile race is to run within yourself.

Maddy had gone from not finishing a 50 mile run earlier in the year at Land Between the Lakes to successfully earning a buckle at Western States, an accomplishment very few can claim. Witnessing this change take place in her mentally over the past few months of coaching was more than a thrill. I had so much confidence in her going in to this, but you never know what'll happen once the day starts. She has always been tough physically, but to see the mental strength she has fostered in the past several months which all came to fruition on race day was a perfect experience.

"What do you get for finishing?" "Why would you do this?" If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand the answer.

She crossed the line at 10:40am on Sunday morning after leaving Olympic Village in Squaw at 5:00am the day prior. This journey however began 7 months ago, and there it all was coming to completion unfolding before my eyes as she crossed the line. A journey of not just 100 miles, but 1000. She was mentally, physically, in her entirety, a stronger woman.

The lessons she learned about herself and her mind will continue to spread, like seeds planted and growing feverishly.

She'll never be the same.

Heidi trying to get Ken Combs to check on progress since we had poor internet connectivity.

Mile 82. Coach is snapping pictures to document! Run! 

The Whole Gang! So many thanks to Diana and Bill for being so welcoming all week! Maddy's family is awesome! 

  

















 






    

One step at a time. Logistics and the Colorado Trail Speed Record

The greatest journey begins with a single step. I have heard this many times and although it's true, it didn't mean much to me until recently. This whole year that saying keeps ringing in my ears. ( I suppose "running" through my head would be a better analogy.)

In attempting what I consider large scale endeavors from directing a trail marathon to planning a 600 mile run at over 10,000' elevation it is easy to get weighed down by the details. One can readily succumb to the stress of the juggling act and cower under the pressure. Large scale projects are a lot to take on, and yes, they can be scary but the only thing to fear is failure, and failure isn't the end of the world. Lately I'm able to take on larger tasks without stressing...I suppose it's all about mindset. 

I recently spoke to friend about tactics for his first 50 mile ultramarathon. One great piece of advice we discussed is to never stop making forward motion. The same holds true in planning these large scale endeavors. As long as you keep making progress in the planning phases and chip away at the end objective, you can do many things you thought impossible. Just pick one manageable piece of the puzzle, figure it out and keep going.  

In an ultramarathon don't try to run 50 or 100 miles, just run to the next aid station. In planning a race, I can't do it all in a day, but I can plan aid station menu's, or contact a sponsor for prizes. Just like Bill Murray says in that horrible movie, What About Bob,  just make baby steps! 

I think we are capable of a lot more than we believe. We just have to make that first step. Today I booked my flight for the Colorado Trail speed record attempt I'm tackling this summer. It started by just making a page on Facebook, then ordering maps and figuring out the route, and today I bought tickets. Through the support of friends and family this is going to happen. I am daunted nonetheless, but making forward progress! 

Last year prior to attempting the Tour de Virginia I was injured. I went in to the 14 day, 580 mile stage race with everything but machismo. I deemed each day I finished a success. In turn, I had a blast and finished healthy. Without a care in the world I ran 40 something miles per day through Virginia in 100 degree temps for 14 days. I didn't focus on tomorrow. I just lived in the moment and enjoyed it, pushing the limits each second. 

The anxious feelings I've had regarding this summers endeavor in Colorado are quickly making way for positive vibes. I'm prone to be my own harshest critic. The pressure I feel is from within. That's why I spill my guts on these pages for you folks. I'm talking to myself, reinforcing lessons I've learned... Writing is how I analyze and understand my experiences... I know this feat in Colorado is undoubtedly the biggest challenge I've ever taken on.

The injury I suffered before the TDV last year allowed me to put less pressure on myself. I need to ease up on the pressure to prepare and remember the many lessons I've written about over the year. I can do this, but I have to find the mindset first. I have to learn to practice mindfulness and live in the moment. That same drive which pushes me to the limits of my personal potential also push me to overtrain, (not allowing recovery from training) . Living in the moment I train effectively; when I feel good I train hard, when I feel worn I recover and get stronger. I have faith in my training and I'm not scared to take an easy recover day. The hay is in the barn.     

I'm flying into Colorado on the 16th. I'm meeting Eric, Robin, Mike, and more on the 17th to enjoy one day in Colorado and discuss logistics before we begin what will seem to be non-stop running for 600 miles. I am not going to go into many details about mileage and how we plan to break the current FKT, (fastest known time), until after the fact. The current FKT, (or speed record preferez vous?), is 8.5 days.  

Until then it's going to be a crazy ride. I'm headed up to the White Mountains in NH to see Kara's family next week. I'm planning to do a Presidential Traverse and a Pemigewasset Loop run. Both are epic White Mountain runs with time above treeline. Snow should be minimal, but I'll see how the trails look next week. Late season snows could still fall. A week after returning from NH I'm doing a 12 hour race as a training run for Colorado. The race is the Hawthorn 12 Hour on June 8. We're going to the Bean Blossom Bluegrass Festival the day after the race which I am psyched about! Since we'll already be in Indiana it worked perfectly. The following week I'm off to Chattanooga to be Mr Dad and watch Denali while Kara has some line shows. Chattanooga is awesome and I'll be getting plenty of training miles in, on, and near the Lookout Mountain 50 course. Upon returning from Indiana, I have one week until I jump on a plane California bound to pace rock star Traci Falbo in her first attempt at the papa of all ultras, the Western States 100.

All of this movement and travel helps facilitate that mindfulness I mentioned earlier- Just going with the flow, and breaking the routines I easily fall in to. The greatest journeys begin with a single step, just keep making forward progress.

  

Colorado Trail Speed Record / Grand Slam Pacing / Backside Trail Marathon

A lack of recent blog posts certainly doesn't reflect the level of running I've been experiencing lately. January/early February has been a fruitful month here in Louisville and I feel like the old pistons are pumping better than ever.

With the help of my PT at Advanced Orthopaedics I recovered well from Hellgate and was running again in no time. 2013 was up in the air as far as race plans went, but my running was not only stronger than it has ever been, but also fun was, and is, back in full in my running.

On New Years Day, I ran the Hangover Classic 10 miler in 1 hour flat while pretty sick with a sinus infection acquired from my job as an urgent care nurse. I recovered from the race, (and sinus infection), quickly and I decided it was time to call the speed work off for a few months and focus on economy and efficiency. I got in about 8 solid weeks of speedwork during November and December and so after a week off in early January I hit it hard with some super fun long slow distance. I knocked out a 115 mile week mostly on trails which was a blast. I've been setting heart rate limits on the road at 100 Miler heart rate pacing, (140 bpm) and my speed has bumped up noticeably over last year which shows gains in effienciency as my hips, glutes, and core are all functionally balanced due to my morning workout routine band exercises.

I had originally hoped to run the Tour De Virginia again to relive the experience from last year, but as it won't be happening it took me a few weeks to figure out the game plan. I'm pretty excited with what I worked up.

Next week as always I'll be looking for the win at Louisville Lovin' the Hills 50K, the toughest 50K+ around with over 6000' elevation gain on technical singletrack. Following LLTH 50K, every March I always run the 50 Miler at Land Between the Lakes and I'm pretty happy with the results I've had there. This year however I'm tackling the 60K, (38 miles), as it's the original classic distance there. I'm shooting for the course record of 4:26 and with a good run I'm pretty sure I can break it as long as the weather cooperates and I'm feeling froggy. The reason I'm shooting for the exciting 60K this year is to hopefully go into my "A" race a little fresher this year. I have high hopes for the Umstead 100 mile on April 6 and the 60K at LBL will save my legs 12 miles of racing only 4 weeks before Umstead. The 60K course record will also pay out a nice prize purse to help pay for some of these adventures! Last year for the 50 mile I was right on the 60K course record splits so as long as pacing and fueling are flawless I've got high hopes. Its all about the weather and course conditions though...

After my "A" race at Umstead I'm going into an unstructured training period to allow for recovery. In May I would love to run a 24 hour event such as "3 Days at the Fair" in NJ to try to qualify for the USA Worlds 24 Team. Worlds won't happen for another year though so there is plenty of time to peak for a 24 hour run at another time. Last year I learned some valuable lessons about taking time off and recovering inbetween races. I always have known that we can't function at 100% all the time and trying to do so yields unimpressive race performances.

After my break from serious training in April and May I'll be pacing Traci Falbo during her Grand Slam attempt. I'm pretty stoked to get to run on some of the most storied courses in the sport, like Leadville and Wasatch without the pressure of racing myself! I'll get to truly witness the beginings of the race and then pace one of the fastest chicks in the country! Pretty awesome stuff. Currently I know I'll be pacing for Leadville and Wasatch.

In lieu of the Tour De Virginia this summer which won't be happening I've managed to come up with another adventure which spawns the same sentiment and epic nature; The Colorado Trail. I'll write more about this endeavor as it come to form. Many options are on the table; supported, self-supported, etc and so I need to gather more data. If anyone is interested in taking part in running on some of the most amazing terrain in the country for two weeks averaging 50-60 miles per day at an average elevation of 10,500', give me a shout and lets chat. I'd love to make this a group event in the same vein as the Tour De Virginia.

Of note also is the Backside Trail Marathon. I've taken on the role of race director and I hope to grow this trail marathon and half over the next few years. We have great sponsors lined up: Quest Outdoors, Smith Optics, Clif Nutrition, Olmsted Parks Conservancy, Headfirst Performance, Injinji Socks, and more! There are still spots available. The race can be found on facebook at Facebook.com/backsidetrailmarathon . Registration is at Ultrasignup.com


Looking forward to good times in 2013.

Hellgate 100K Race Report- Dante and Virgil take on the Inferno.

In the classical definition of Hell, there is neither a space nor time continuum. In race director David Horton's envision of Hell aptly named The Hellgate 100K this holds true. Time has been described by former Hellgate runners as non-existent. His mileage data is known as "Horton Miles" for its irreverence for accuracy. "Horton Miles" are comically long. The Hellgate "100K" is actually 110K leaving the distance to once again parallel the underworld, 66.6 miles.

As a masochist, I have become familiar with the skills required to make it through various creations of what earthlings devise to simulate eternal damnation. There is an art to making it through to the other side of these carnival rides. It is easy to fall prey to the smoke and mirrors we create to fool ourselves, but with the right tools we can escape Hell. We are after all, sentient beings, bound to space and time.

In late September of this year I found myself in Dante's third level of Hell, reserved for gluttons. In Dante's Inferno, Hell is 9 layers. Gluttony is the meat in a sandwich of Lust and Greed. I was gluttonous in my racing endeavors. I ran hard all summer and ran well, but I lusted for more. Greed fed the machine after a win at Iron Mountain and gluttony prevailed as I attempted a run at UROC only 4 weeks later. I paid for my sins with humility and enlightenment was reached. I spent October running very little and recovered for the first time in 6 months. November held the most enjoyable running I had experienced in 2 seasons. The flesh and bones were renewed and healed. I had started over from scratch and felt amazing.

The week prior to Hellgate I stumbled upon some research I wasn't privy to in earlier races and began my carb loading cycle earlier and omitted fruit, (fructose). I didn't feel bloated and I was digesting the carbs well. This was a great sign which I have learned in past experience. I ran 5K worth of intervals on Monday and 2 miles of intervals on Thursday. I had faith great things were in store for Hellgate. I wanted to run even more on race week but limited myself in hopes of charging up for the 66.6 mile jaunt through the black abyss.

The 2012 edition of Hellgate was slated to commence at the standard 12:01am start time on the second Saturday in December. The race starts near midnight on Friday and I wanted to be rested, therefore I drove down on Thursday night with my crew to get rest all day on Friday. Checking in to the hotel we were greeted with the following sign posted on the lobby desk and the front door:

The first room I checked in to had no bugs, but did have dirty towels on the floor. The second room, clean towels but bugs in the bed. With little deliberation I checked out and went to a plush Holiday Inn Express for my sleeping pleasure.

The pre-race dinner was the tastiest I have ever had and the pre-run meeting was full of familiar faces to add to the communal and familial feel of Horton races. (Dr. Horton also informed us during the pre-race meeting that he was scheduled to have major heart surgery on Monday following the race. Our thoughts and prayers are with him.)

Eric Grossman walked into the meeting late which invited provocation from Horton to call out the current course record holder himself. "Hey Eric! What time are you shooting for tomorrow?! I am betting you can't break 11 hours. It's too hot this year. I think you'll hit 11 hours and 15 minutes." Eric surreptitiously avoided answering the question and with a coy smile held his stance.

This race however, is Hellgate, known for bringing out the inner demons of runners. Little did we know Eric was battling a fight within himself he had never dealt with before. He was unsure of his health this race and was in turmoil as to whether or not he should start the 10th running of Hellgate.

Magic or mayhem under black skies with blazing stars overhead; I knew it was going to be a special night. I knew Horton had undershot Eric's potential, and more importantly the potential of an all-star crew of speed-demons including:

• Chris Reed- multiple winner who had run 11:15 in worse conditions.
• Alister Gardner- UROC elite top 10, Virgil Crest 50 winner.
• Jason Bryant- over 30 podium finishes in his illustrious career.
• Darryl Smith- previous Hellgate podium finisher.
• Frank Gonzales- 7 podium finishes in the last 2 years in Virginia races, Hellgate veteran.
• Eric Grossman- CR Holder, Over 70 Ultra finishes, OVER 39 ULTRA WINS. WHAT?! 

At the devils hour we stood in the darkness, awaiting command from the St Peter of the underworld to start our journey. I made note of the runners I deemed my competition and pointed them out to Stephanie. I would want to know names if I requested time splits later in the race. I was pleased at the relaxed pace in the opening miles. I tucked in comfortably behind the affable Frank Gonzales. We made a little small talk and watched Alister Gardner shoot off into the night. Jason Bryant followed in quick pursuit and I eventually let Frank Gonzales pull away from me as well. It was early in the race and this time around, I wasn't racing for anyone but me. (This should be the case in most races...) I knew the pace I wanted to hold and stuck to it.

Coming into the first aid station, I knew I was doing something right, because Eric Grossman made a comment from behind me regarding the infamous river crossing. If I was running easy and was still with former winner Chris Reed who had beaten the guys up front; and with Eric Grossman course record holder, then I would just forget about everyone and run my own race like I was doing, because it was working.

The miles passed quickly, like water rolling down a rapid, up and over rocks, tumbling downstream. I surmounted climbs and descended rocky terrain with ease early in the race. Soon enough, Eric, Chris and I caught up to Frank Gonzales and our foursome ascended some of the biggest climbs of the race together.

Stephanie was calculated at the aid stations, and we found a common scenario unfolding. Several runners would escape me and then I would catch them at the Aid Stations. I had Stephanie to toss a bottle so I needn't ever stop or slow.

In Dante's Inferno, he has a guide to take him through Hell, without whom, his journey would have been quite different. I assume Stephanie's flawless crewing, acting as my "Virgil", gained me several minutes by the end of the race.

Nearing mile 20, after running with Chris Reed and chatting about families back home, I noticed a headlamp pointed at me. A runner was walking back up what seemed to be an eternal descent I had been running down. It was Jason Bryant. I asked if he was OK and little did I know by his calm demeanor that he was walking backwards to the previous aid station to DNF. This put me in 2nd place with Alister out in front. Chris and Eric were third and fourth respectively.

Closing out this section Eric began feeling strong, and passed Chris somewhere. After not seeing crew for 13 miles, I grabbed a quick bottle from Stephanie at the aid station. Eric and I made haste up a nasty climb in 2nd and 3rd place. Chris and his headlamp were no where in sight for the remainder of the race. The climb Eric and I were attacking was long and steady. Instead of tucking in to Eric and letting him lead I tried to run shoulder to shoulder, proving mentally I didn't need him as a crutch. I wanted him to see I was as strong as he'd ever seen me mentally as well as physically. I'd been in front of him for the first third during the climbs and although I assumed he was beginning his move, I was there to spar. Nonetheless, he slowly pulled away. I had to run my own race. I let him go but he didn't get far.

As we entered the middle third of the race, the climbs abate somewhat and the terrain smooths out. There are less rocks. Mentally you can't think about the miles still looming ahead. I assume that is part of the mental game of making it through Hell. Make it through by living in moment, lest you become angst ridden contemplating the task ahead. Running parallels life in this regard. Make it to the next aid station, live in the moment and be in the present. Just take it one step at a time and awe inspiring feats are possibly.

A large milestone of the race was hitting the Little Cove Mountain aid station where I thought daylight would present itself. I reached it in darkness and as tradition would have it, I caught Eric at the aid station. I've read that many consider the aid station at Little Cove Mountain the "half-way" point of the race. It's actually close to 38 miles into the run. The views off to the east were panoramic, the blue light of morning highlighting Virginia ridgelines across the mountains. Light eclipsed the blackness of the abyss.

The light of day meant an ever increasing ability to practice mindfulness in my running and live in the moment, not fearing the remaining miles. Eric was not too far ahead of me, and I was still enjoying the run. A torn adductor muscle in my groin had yet to nag me any more than in the opening miles. I knew my body would hold strong. The draw of the finish line provided focus and drive that my depleted energy levels and fatiguing muscles were lacking at that point.  I held my core strong and ran as I had been doing for over seven hours. The rocky section I had heard so much about didn't cause strife. I moved fluidly and smoothly, not stressing about speed that the rocks were impeding.

Climbing up to Bearwallow Gap the grade is seemingly constant for miles as the trail slowly rises the contour line of the mountain to the aid station. Rounding bends in the mountain I could see Eric's white shirt and it fueled me. I dug a little deeper and raised my energy expenditure ever so slightly to begin the long process of closing the void which existed between us. I didn't want to catch him and then be tired from the effort, so I climbed steadily. Coming into the 8th aid station at the top of the climb, I caught Eric! This was a large victory for me. There was only 13 miles left and only one more aid station.

Leaving the Bearwallow Gap aid station the course descends an incredibly long fire road. I caught Eric after several minutes of descending and we once again were shoulder to shoulder. I had looked at my watch and I knew with strong efforts, determination, and luck, we could break his old course record. I truly and whole heatedly wanted Eric to break his old course record. As I approached and ran side by side, he looked over to acknowledge my presence and I had a giant grin on my face and I held out a fist for him to "fist-bump". I yelled at him, "Let's do this! You're gonna get your record!"

Like I said, I wanted Eric to break his course record. I wanted him to have the best race possible. The paradigm exists in that I also wanted to beat him. This fist-bump of camaraderie also "could" have served the purpose to show Eric how great I was feeling and that I was making my move. Unless he was feeling ready for a surge, I'd be on my merry little way. Had he been feeling spent, nothing is more demoralizing than a giant grin and encouragement. lucky for me, I didn't have to fake it, I really did want Eric to push hard and have the race of his life.

We ran shoulder to shoulder to the bottom of our descent and I took the lead for the climb. My nutrition had been flawless all day, and I reminisced to every time over the previous year Eric and I had been within meters of each other in the final miles of a race. He had warned me to not let him get in front of me for the final climb, because he would surely beat me on it. As a Hellgate virgin I heeded his advice and was hoping to escape him on this last stretch of trail en route to the final aid station.

The stretch of trail leading to aid station nine is called "the forever section". I assaulted every climb and tried to outrun Eric but he was latched on to my heels. I bombed down rocky descents. I could tell I had a mild advantage on the technical descents. This was, until, I fell and hit hard. I managed to not get shaken up too badly and I continued on in front.

I managed to pass Eric on the final climb of UROC two years prior, and during the Tour De Virginia this summer, I managed to finish strong and gain time on him several times in the last 10 miles of a race if I was feeling energized. I knew it wasn't impossible to hold my own on that final climb, but I had already blown my reserves trying to escape him during the forever section.

We entered aid station 9 together and I was honored to once again be with the grand master himself, Eric Grossman. We were 6 miles from the finish. Eric and I grabbed a caffeinated sip of mountain dew. We both yelled that we would prefer Coke, but took the Mountain Dew in lieu.

I refused to quit even as he slipped out of my grasp. I watched him climbing strong and I swore to not walk. The good thing about racing for maximum potential and NOT for placement is that even though I could have walked the climb and still finished 3rd, I wanted my best possible performance. This was for ME. Every cell ached and pleaded for me to walk, but I ran every step up the final climb. The pace was pitiful, but I dug as deep as I could. I couldn't even see Eric.

The final 3 miles are heaven, all smooth and downhill. I felt victorious. Eric had escaped me, but once again, the battle provided a performance I was proud of.

Canadian Alister Gardner finished in 10:52, winning and setting a new course record. Eric broke his old course record of 11:03 which stood since 2006. His final time was 10:57. The ever-witty Grossman proclaimed he "has the American course record!" I finished in 11:07, rounding out the top 3 podium.
 

Hellgate what?!

Here are answers to questions you might have about Hellgate and my experience. (AKA- stuff I couldn’t squeeze into this report.)

Shoes- Montrail Mountain Masochists

Socks- Swiftwick Vibe One

Shorts- 2xu Compression

Headlamp- Black Diamond Sprinter/ Tikka XPII

Nutrition- Gels/ Blocks/ Water

Training- I was tapped out on hill work prior to Hellgate, so I actually focused on core strength prior to hellgate and did a ton of threshold and speedwork on the road. I only ran trails once weekly and felt stronger than ever on the climbs as a result of finding balance in training and doing road and speed work.

Many thanks to Advanced Orthopaedics for their constant attention to detail and helping to balance me out!