Raccoon Hunting: Week 1

I enjoyed a couple of chill weeks since I got back from Leadville. I got back into the swing of things at work, processed the trip, and weighed my options for my next racing goals. I promised myself I would wait a couple of weeks before deciding what I'd do next. I kinda did that. I decided to run the New River 50K (Oct 12th) just because the race looks fun and the distance is a reasonable one that I could do just with normal running as I'm prepping for the Marine Corps Marathon with the Always Brothers team that we put together. I've enjoyed joining Ginger for her training runs, and I've been running with Carla and Geoff as they hit their long runs in their training. It's been fun to run with all of them and see how psyched they are with the progress they are each making. Ginger has been running really strong and having a good time. I'm so impressed with how she's taken a great approach to recovering from her injury last winter. I love running with her and enjoying the time on the trail with her. Carla and Geoff have really been an inspiration. Each week, I've joined them for their distance PRs and they have been doing a great job.

Last week, my Raccoon Hunting buddy Jim Cansler called and said he wanted to take another shot at the Rocky Raccoon 100. It was such a great weekend last year, that I couldn't say no. We will camp at the park, watch the superbowl and celebrate my birthday after. Ginger said she'd be happy to crew me and hopefully pace me for a few legs, so that was all the motivation I needed. I pulled the trigger and signed up. That means, that I have kicked off the latest 100 training cycle. I think Rocky is just what I need after Pbville. It'll be great to run a course I know and take a stab at a new 100 PR time. If nothing else, it'll set me up with a good fall/winter of training in case Pbville ends up being a goal for next summer. And, it'll just be an awesome trip.

I have felt really strong on every run since I recovered from Leadville. This week, I hit three strong 7 milers on Mon, Tues, and Wed. I took Thursday off, and did Ginger's long run with her this week. She did great and we had a nice average pace (9:26) for 16 miles- complete with negative splits for the second half. She's a beast! I took saturday off and ran with Geoff and Carla today. I ended up hitting 19 in 2:54 with some serious negative splits on the last 9 miles or so. I was psyched to finish with 8:42, 8:41, and 8:20 miles at the end. I felt great, and think the first week back went great. Here are the weekly totals.

It was a great week overall. I got to do some good runs, had a good week of classes, and got some cool news when I found out that a story on ESPN.com linked to my blog. I'm a sports junkie, and getting a link from the mothership is pretty much the highlight of my blogging career.

I've still been using the Hoka Stinson Evo Tarmacs for my smooth trail runs, but I've been looking for a trail shoe for tech trails to replace the La Sportiva Wildcats I've been wearing for years. The toe box is just too narrow now that my feet have mutated. I had been using the Hoka Stinson Evos, but I got some blisters at Leadville because that shoe just doesn't fit my foot quite right. I like the New Balance Leadvilles I had been wearing, but the sole just isn't grabby enough to be my go to tech trail shoe. If you got suggestions, send them my way. I'm a forefoot striker and I like a low drop, neutral shoe. I've been thinking Altras but I tried on a pair and I'm not sure the toe box is actually tall enough. It's plenty wide, but a little too low. Maybe I just need to try another size/model. 

The Race Across the Sky-- Well, half of the sky for me... this year anyway...

There really are not too many ways to say it. I got a beat down in Leadville this weekend. No excuses. I don't make 'em. I just didn't have it. I'm not used to setting a goal and falling short, so it certainly was a little tough to take. That being said, I don't feel like my race was a failure. A wise man once told me that as long as you learn from something it's not a mistake. And, I believe that about falling short of a goal. Sure, I'd much rather be telling the story of how I ate some doughnuts Sunday morning using my giant, baller, Pbville sub-25 finisher's buckle as a plate. Hell yeah I would. But, I'm not. The Reaper got me at Hopeless. I didn't make the time cut- got sent home. Well, sent back down the mountain to Twin Lakes, actually. But, I learned from it. I loved it. I reveled in the suffering and the satisfaction of knowing I laid myself bare on that course. I smiled at the beating I took. I'm pretty sure my brothers would be proud of how I represented them out there. I know Ginger, Lois, and the rest of my friends there saw that I gave everything I had, and they were awesome in supporting me. So, here's the story of the day. 

I started off with some excellent words of motivation in my head. Ginger put together a little book for me, much like the one Star made for Darris before Badwater, filled with messages from my friends. Little things, like a reminder to Harden the Fuck Up from Paul Gilman (a little taste of my own medicine there), a solid #chooseyourfriendsbetter from Kramer, and some very thoughtful advice from Brian O'Neill. O'Neill is my firefighter, Marine, literary genius, all around bad ass buddy from the Always Brothers family. He gave me a battle cry of sorts to carry with me for the day: Molon Labe, which basically means Come and Take. This was, reportedly, the reply King Leonidas gave to the Persians when they demanded the Spartans surrender their weapons at the Battle of Thermopylae. As we left the hotel at 3:30 am Saturday morning, I grabbed a sharpie and scrawled this mantra on my hand. 

The scene at the starting line was wild. 800 or so folks lined up and ready to attempt the feat of racing across the sky. At 4 am the gun (literally- no sissy starter pistol) went off and we began shuffling down 6th street towards Turquoise Lake. The first 13 miles ticked off uneventfully. I felt pretty good and made sure I didn't go out too fast. I was still unsure of how starting a race at 10,200 feet was going to feel. When we hit the single track around the lake, I settled in with a group moving a little slower than my planned pace. I was OK with that. I had figured out by mile 7 that going sub 25 was not really a realistic goal for me this year. I just couldn't maintain that pace without my heart rate going too high. No worries, though. I felt good at a slightly slower pace and wanted to make sure I followed the advice I'd been given: Be patient. The second half of the race can't happen if the first half kills you. I made it to May Queen (mile 13.2) feeling pretty good and was happy to see Ginger and Lois, who had everything I needed and quickly got me moving again. 

The climb away from May Queen up Hagerman Pass was much burlier than I had anticipated. The elevation was hurting me more than I thought it would. I felt slow and out of shape. But, I told the mountains to Come and Take and chatted with my fellow runners with a smile on my face. Silently suffering. The views were unreal. We climbed a thousand feet or so and looked back down that lake. All I could think was, "Damn, this place is gorgeous!"I really do love Leadville. The mountains are surreal. 

After the climb to the top of the pass, I careened my way down the Powerline to the aid station at Outward Bound (mile 23ish). Feeling a little rough from the climb, I was a little shaken by the fact that I was so far behind my goal pace and only an hour ahead of the cut off. I was going as fast as I could without blowing up. But, I just kept pushing. I reminded myself to enjoy the day- to enjoy the view. I wanted to take in the scene and remember that this was, as my "sister" Star said, "My Leadville Day" when she alluded to the St. Crispin's day speech from Henry V. I knew it didn't matter what pace I held. The only thing that mattered was that I held the best pace I could. So I did. Through the blazing sun I shuffled along. 

I can't say I really enjoyed the section between Outward Bound and HalfPipe. It was mostly road, and mostly exposed. I'm a trail runner. The scenery was nice, but were WAY too many cars on the road and it was HOT. But, I reminded myself that this was an Ultra and not a day on the beach. If it was easy, everyone would be here. If it was easy, my friends would not fly across the country to crew/pace me. It was easy, my friends would not wax poetic about St. Crispin or King Leonidas. If it was easy, I wouldn't be here because I wouldn't like it. I am a Marine, and I don't like things to be easy. So, I shuffled on. Telling myself to HTFU, drink water, and telling the damn course: Molon Labe. 

I rolled into  the Treeline crew station feeling very bad. I was hot, dizzy, and worried. I had been doing a run/walk combo for a few miles now. I was trying to follow the advice of not going out too fast, and I was losing way too much time. I was less than 45 minutes ahead of the cutoff. "WTF?! How is the happening," I asked myself. I trained my ass off for this, and couldn't understand why I was so slow. But, I perked up a bit when I saw Ginger and Lois. They gave me some much needed fluid, food, and sunscreen. I continued on towards Halfpipe feeling better. 

I got back into a running rhythm for a while, rolled through Halfpipe and started the climb towards the Mt. Elbert water station. Then, the wheels came off. I ate a Cheer Pack and promptly puked. "Shit," I thought, "these things ALWAYS work." Not this time. I was at mile 31 and life was NOT good. I walked for a while, got my stomach settled and distracted myself by talking to my fellow pilgrims on the road to pay homage at Hope Pass. The climb was rough. It seemed to last forever, but I finally hit the water station and began the decent to Twin Lakes. 

And, here the Persian Army of the Pbville course, took a little piece of me. It took the piece that mattered most for my race. I could not run the decent. Even though it was downhill, I would puke every time I tried to run. I couldn't understand it. I was hydrated. I had been eating well for the first 25 miles. I had settled my stomach after the mile 31 incident, but now at mile 37 or so, I was puking every time I tried to run. I needed to make up time. I'm usually a fast descender. I can make up time on a downhill without getting out of control. Not today. To make matters worse, walking down the hill was making my left knee feel like a knife was stuck in it. Not good. I wanted to quit. It's hard to admit that. But, I did want that more than anything-- for a minute. But, I knew that wasn't what I really wanted. What I really wanted was to fight these metaphorical Persians to the end. So I did. I kept pushing on, and I kept trying to have fun in the process. I chatted with folks who were also suffering on the decent and even scored a cold Coors as I approached Twin Lakes from a nice couple who'd come out to watch the carnage. 

"A Coors?! How can you drink a beer in the middle of a 100 miler?!" you ask- with a disapproving look. Yes, A Coors. I don't know why, but it made perfect sense to me. I wanted a beer. I was in a dark place and a beer seemed like a good flashlight. It was. I only drank half of it, and I started feeling better. I wish you could see the looks people were giving me as I rolled into the aid station at Twin Lakes with a water bottle in one hand and a beer in the other. Priceless. 

I was feeling better, but I knew time was not on my side. I told Ginger I was in trouble. I was only 15 minutes ahead of the cutoff entering Twin Lakes. I told her my knee was hurting and I thought I was done. She reminded me that I still had 15 minutes, and I might start feeling better soon. So, I changed my shoes, grabbed my coat in case weather came while I was on the Pass, and headed towards the climb at Mt Hope. 

I did feel better. I started running and the nausea was gone. My knee pain- gone. Wow, Coors is the wonder drug! The river crossing was refreshing and I was buoyed by the fact that I'd made it out of Twin Lakes before the leaders passed me on their way back to town. "Hell," I thought, "they are only 19 miles ahead of me. That ain't bad, really." And it isn't. I have no illusions about how these races go. I'm not there racing anyone else. I race myself and the course. And that race was going great again. 

Until the climb began. Mt. Hope punched me square in the jaw. Check out the elevation profile of the course here (remember the starting point is 10,152 feet): 

The last spike, that's the climb to Hope Pass. And this is where the taking happened. I promised myself I would tackle the trouble that came my way with a cheerful and resolute heart. I promised myself I'd wear the blackened eyes the course would give me with a smile and bounce higher every time I got knocked down. I did the best I could. The climb punched, and I absorbed. I could hardly breathe and each step seemed oddly difficult. The grade seemed way steeper than it really was. I knew the clock was ticking, but I soldiered on. I kept thinking, "If I can get to the Pass in time, I can make it to Winfield before the 6 pm cut no problem. It'll be downhill and I can run without puking now. But, it wasn't to be. I made it a half mile from the Hopeless Aid Station, and at mile 43.5 I was told by a course volunteer to turn back. I had missed the 4:15 cut off for Hopeless. My race was over. Well, I still had to descend the pass. I still had to go 4.5 miles to get back to Twin Lakes. 

It was brutal. I honestly don't remember the last time I set a goal and didn't make it like this. I mean, I've run races slower that I'd hoped, I'd had articles rejected at work, but I have never been cut from a race. I'd never let the metaphorical Persians Come and Take. I had a couple of hours to think about this as I slowly trudged back to Twin Lakes. And here's what I decided. 

They can still Molon Labe. Those bastards didn't really take anything from me. While I went to Leadville with the goal of a sub 25 finish (or at least a finish), I didn't fail. Sure, I didn't reach my race goal. But, that isn't the real reason I run. I run because it love it. I run because it lets me challenge myself- let's me find the ragged edge and look over it without any real danger. It also lets me honor my fallen brothers. Mostly importantly, it lets me see new places, and share them with people I love. Well, I did every bit of that at Leadville. I fought until the clock said I could fight no more, and I loved it all. 

Thanks to Ginger, Lois, Reeve, and Kramer for coming to support me. Thanks to all of my friends and family who sent me good vibes and words of encouragement. Now it's time to get on a place (if we don't miss this one), and go home. I miss my Yellow Buddy and Mookie. 

The Epistemological Ruminations of an Arts-Based Yellow Canine

OR: A Yellow Dog Goes to College:

What's up everybody? The Food Guy and I just got back from a really fun week in the mountains. Food Guy had to go to a writing workshop for a week, and he worked it out so that I could go too. One of the Food Guy's professors was running this workshop at Amicalola Falls in North Georgia. I think it just made good sense for me to be able to go. I spend so much time hanging out while Food Guy is reading all of his books and writing his papers that I think they really need to give me a PhD too when the Food Guy graduates. Now, maybe they will since I've been to college. What do y'all think? 

Amicalola is a really cool place. I think everyone should go there if they get the chance. There's a lot of really cool places to see there, and so much good stuff to smell.  Check out this really cool spot along the creek:

Now, y'all know that I'm a smart dog and all that, but I learned lots of new words this week. Greg, one of our friends who stayed with us in the cabin, is a pretty smart guy. He knows all kinds of big words. So, he helped me learn some new ones. We spent lots of time sitting around the cabin and I got some good tutoring.

 Greg told me that I was an Arts-based, Multi-genre dog who didn't just have thoughts. He said I had "epistemological ruminations." He suggested the title for this post, and I thought it was a pretty good one. I was thinking Yellow Dog Goes to College was pretty good, but Greg's title sounds much, much better. I mean, I do have some pretty deep thoughts. Most dogs do, really. We have lots and lots of time to sit around and think about stuff. And, lots of dogs are smart. My friend Sug is so smart. She can read anything you put in front of her. And my friend Zozo. I think she's the smartest. She's figured out how to sleep like 20 hours a day!

Anyway, it was a really fun week. The Food Guy got lots of writing done, and I helped him whenever I could. Mostly, I just sat next to him on the floor or sat on the couch next to people while they worked. It was a pretty sweet set up:  

We didn't just work though. We went for lots and lots of runs on the trails. Food Guy and I ran for a couple of hours everyday. Well, we took one day off because Food Guy just HAD to make sure he got enough work done. He can be such a geek that way. "Gotta get my work done, gotta get my work done," he says. Luckily, I told him he could call going for a run on the trail "work" if he was smart. See, all he has to do is think about what he's supposed to be writing while he's out running, and bingo: you're working! You don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out. But overall, the schedule seemed pretty good to me. The people spent a lot of time drinking coffee and talking about the stuff they were writing. Then, they went to "class" every night where they helped each other with their writing projects. I mostly slept while all that was going on. I mean, a dog can only do so much thinking. I had to make sure I got plenty of sleep, so Food Guy and I could go exploring on the trails everyday. The trails at Amicalola Falls are pretty sweet. Check out some of the views we found along the way:

The trails were really good for running. Food Guy's ankle seems to have finally healed. It had been giving him some trouble for a while, so we weren't getting to run very much before we went. He was riding his bike more than running, which sucks for me because that means I have to stay home. I like watching Sportscenter and all that, but I like being out on the trail much, much more. So, I was pretty glad he was feeling better 'cause I would have hated to spend a whole week at this trail running paradise without getting some serious miles in. Even an arts-based, multi-genre yellow canine has to get his miles in. You know, you can't work ALL the time. Sometimes I just had to look at the Food Guy and say, "C'mon let's GO!"

We didn't just run and work though.  We spent some good time hanging out around the cabin. Greg brought his guitar and played us some songs everyday. Man, that guy can play the guitar. He even took the time to teach the Food Guy a few chords. 

I'm not sure how that's gonna work out. He might even get mad at me for telling y'all about the guitar thing. You know Reeve is gonna start calling him a dirty hippie if he starts playing guitar. But I think it wouldn't be too bad if the Food Guy learned to play a little music. We even had a campfire or two. We stayed up pretty late the last night hanging out and listening to Greg play guitar around the campfire. The Good Doctor (Christine) managed to secure the appropriate liquid refreshments we needed when she made a run to town on Thursday, so we celebrated finishing our work with a roaring campfire Friday night. 

Well, we're back in Athens now. We went home for the weekend and had a good time hanging out at the Lake. I got to play with Bosco, the Food Guy's brother's dog. We had big time running around in the yard by the lake. The Food Guy's dad snuck me lots of extra dog bones. I have him convinced that Food Guy never feeds me. Sshh, don't tell him that I get plenty to eat. I'm not really looking forward to next week. Food Guy will be teaching all day and then grading for the online classes at night. Not to mention he has to finish up getting his dissertation prospectus ready and all that kinds of jazz.  Ughh, I'm gonna really have to get on him about getting out of bed early, so we can go run on our trails behind our house. Not that I like getting up early. I don't. But, I'll make up for it sleeping all day while he's working. Zozo and Sug taught me that trick. Like I said, those are some smart doggies.