A Farewell to Beer...

Beer. Yum!

After a long holiday season of "carbo loading" on pizza and beer, I decided it was time to clean up my diet and get down back to "racing weight" for the upcoming 2014 running season. Even though I had put on an extra 5 or 6 pounds since last summer, I wasn't really running any slower than normal. But still, even if just for the sake of mere vanity, I knew my abs were there somewhere under all that winter "insulation", and I was bound to find them again.

I decided to put myself on the "sausage and Greek yogurt diet", which has always worked well for me in the past. I don't actually limit myself to just sausage and Greek yogurt. In addition to sausages, I also eat a variety of other cured meats including beef jerky and bacon.

Occasionally I also eat other stuff like chicken, eggs, cheese, peanut butter, nuts, gluten-free granola, veggies, pineapple, blueberries and grapes. Basically, a high-protein and high-fat diet where I try to avoid carbs. Because carbs are stupid. And yes, unfortunately this means giving up beer. (P.S. Giving up beer is also stupid.)

Obviously though, no one can actually "give up" beer. That would be suicidal and would certainly lead to all kinds of physical and mental ailments. So I decided to implement an emergency beer "rationing" program where I am only allowed to drink beer after races. And only after races of at least marathon length or longer. Though I also made a special exemption where I could earn a beer for shorter wimpier-length races if I managed to at least win my age group, set a PR, or win the race outright!


So hungry, I could eat my medal.

Campbell Resolution Run 5 Mile


I started my new diet and beer-rationing system on Dec 31, 2013 in order to get a jump on the whole new year's resolution thing. One day later I couldn't take it anymore and was desperately craving beer.

So I quickly scoured the Internet and found a small local race -- the Campbell Resolution Run 5 Mile. Thirty-one minutes and sixteen seconds later I was standing at the finish line enjoying a cold IPA courtesy of my 6th place overall and 1st place age group finish. Ah, beer!

I won't bore you with the details of the race other than to say that I almost got beat by a 15 year old, but thankfully I was able to run him down in the last quarter mile. Apparently I was soundly beaten by a 16 year old -- who finished 2nd overall -- but he had a mustache so I am going to consider him an adult rather than a teenager.

Here's a link to the results.

photo by freeradical.me

InsideTrail Pacifica Foothills 50K

Several weeks later I was again craving some beer, so I signed up for the Pacifica Foothills 50K, a favorite local race of mine. It's a tough course with lots of climbing, and magnificent views of the Pacific ocean. There are several different organizations including Coastal Trail Run (CTR) and Pacific Coast Trail Runs (PCTR) who also organize similar races at Pacifica; this one however was put on by InsideTrail.com who do an amazing job.

This wasn't really an "A" race for me, so I didn't plan to train specifically for it or to do much/any tapering. Based on the list of entrants published on the website I figured I would have a good shot to come home with the win. But alas, that was before the last minute entry of my Quicksilver teammate Marc Laveson who is blazing fast! I paced Marc at The North Face Championships in San Francisco in December and he is going to pace me at Hardrock in July. I've never beaten him in a race -- unless you count our "mock beer mile" training run.

I figured the only chance I might have to beat Marc is if I could catch him off-guard by going out as hard as I could and trying to build an early lead while he was still warming up. And it worked! Well, it worked for the first 200 meters. Then he passed me. And that was all she wrote. He gradually pulled further and further away from me all day, eventually finishing over 20 minutes in front of me. My time 4:43:33 was good -- good enough for 2nd place, over 30 minutes ahead of the next two runners. But Marc's time was great. He ran a 4:18:48, breaking the old course record!

As I sat at the finish line eating my BBQ pulled pork (thanks Will Gotthardt) and drinking my cold beer in the warm sun, it was hard to not to smile and enjoy the day.

Here's a link to the official results. And here's a link to Marc's race re-cap.

2014 Racing Plans: Further and Farther

Where will 2014 take me?

2013 was an amazing year for me. I set new personal records at the 5K, half marathon, marathon, 50 mile, and 100 mile! I had an amazing performance at Western States bringing home the coveted silver belt buckle on the second hottest year ever in the history of the race. And I had a breakthrough race at the Ohlone 50K where I finished 2nd overall and ran 30 minutes faster than any of my previous efforts on that course. And then there was my crowning achievement -- first place at the Silicon Valley Beer 2 Mile Championships!

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before” -- Edgar Allen Poe, The Raven

Perhaps I should be happy? Perhaps I should be content? Yet something deep inside of me knows that I am capable of more; that all of these accomplishments are just precursors and stepping stones to something greater.  Right now I am running faster and stronger than I have ever before; but who knows how much longer it will last. I desperately want to take advantage of this fitness and test myself.

“Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.” -- Poe, "Terrified Heart"

Let's not call it a mid-life crisis, at least not officially, not yet anyway. It's not like I came home one day unannounced with a new Porsche or anything. But I want 2014 to be the year I seize the moment and attempt something majestic, something seemingly impossible, something unspeakable.


Hardrock 100

There's this little race in Colorado called Hardrock. As far as 100 mile races go, it's the hardest, highest, and baddest. It has nearly twice as much elevation gain as either Western States or Leadville, and it is run at an average elevation of 11,000 feet with numerous mountain passes above 13,000 and 14,000 feet. And as if that wasn't hard enough, while most of the course is run on mountain rugged trails, some of the course isn't even on trails at all! Rather, runners just run "cross country" up and down the sides of mountains over steep fields of scree and snow.

I've always dreamed of running Hardrock. It's a big part of the reason why I convinced my wife that we should buy, and sleep in, an altitude tent. She's a good sport, I might add. Not a lot of spouses would tolerate being asked to go "camping" on a nightly basis in a hot, humid tent hooked up via a long plastic tube to a loud rumbling contraption. But I digress...

Much to my surprise, this year I was selected 7th on the waitlist for Hardrock in the category for people who have never run the race before. What this basically means is that if 7 or more of the original 35 runners selected ahead of me in the lottery decide not to run the race their year (due to injuries, work/family commitments, financial hardship, or whatever) I will be allowed into the race. Last year 9 people from the waitlist eventually made it into the race. So I am optimistic that I may get in. In fact, I've already moved up to 5th on the waitlist.

I may not actually find out until race week or race morning whether I will be allowed to run. So basically that means I will need to train for the race and make my travel arrangements as if I am already in. This requires a bit of faith and dash of luck. But if there's even a one in a hundred chance, I'm going to take it. This is Hardrock, and nothing about it is easy.

“The depth lies in the valleys where we seek her, and not upon the mountain-tops where she is found.”  -- Edgar Allen Poe, The Murders in the Rue Morgue

Everything about Hardrock is difficult -- from just getting into the race, to finding a hotel room, to following the sparse course marking (which usually get eaten by the marmots anyway). And then there are the legions of biting black flies harassing you as you are stumbling up the mountain. And once you are on top of the mountain, struggling to breathe at 14,000 feet, you have to survive the hail and lightening storms that roll in each afternoon. Welcome to Hardrock... my dream race!


Lake Tahoe 200

Most people would say that you'd have to be insane to run 100 miles through the mountains around Lake Tahoe. But speaking from experience, as both my wife and I have done it, it's definitely hard... but it's not crazy hard. But just in case I don't get into Hardrock -- or perhaps even if I do -- for reasons that I still not completely clear to me I put my name into the hat for the inaugural Lake Tahoe 200 Miler. Yes, that's right. Two hundred miles around Lake Tahoe over rugged mountain trails.

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." -- Edgar Allen Poe, a letter to an admirer

I still can't decide which sounds like more fun, Hardrock or Tahoe 200. Both should be glorious sufferfests. The Hardrock course is definitely harder, but Tahoe is longer -- twice as long in fact. It's difficult to pick a winner. Either one could kill you. But no one's died -- at least not yet -- at either race. Though in fairness to Tahoe 200, no one's actually run it yet. And I guess that's part of the potential attraction for me.

I know that I have absolutely no chance to win Hardrock with several returning champions and a deep field of international stars including Killian Jornet and two-time Western States champion Timothy Olsen. But Tahoe 200 on the other hand... Well, a lot can happen over 200 miles. There are very few people in the world who have ever run that far. Being fast doesn't necessarily ensure victory.

“And I fell violently on my face.”   -- Edgar Allen Poe, The Pit and the Pendulum

At the end of 200 miles the victory may very well go to whoever is just able to keep eating, stay (at least partially) awake, and keep plodding forward -- no matter how slowly. It might come down to an ugly, bloody street brawl. And if that's the case, I like to think I may have a decent shot at winning.

At this point, I still need to wait and see what happens. For example, will I actually get into Hardrock? And if so, will I survive it? And if I do survive, will I really feel like racing 200 miles just a couple of months later? Heck, for that matter, will I even be able to walk, much less run, two months later. There are still a lot of questions. I'll need to sit down with my wife and discuss as a family.

But whatever happens, I'm definitely going to be doing at least one of these two races. And I am going to be all-in, going for broke. I might not win. I may not even finish. But it's not going to be for lack of training or want of effort. I plan to approach 2014 as if it might be my last.


And some other normal races that are less likely to kill me:

• Jan 18, Pacifica Foothills 50K -- A small local race that I enjoy running
• Feb 23, Limekiln Overgrown Fat Ass 50K -- Fun team training run; Ohlone tune up
• Mar 8, Way too Cool 50K -- Fast race with elite field; hoping for sub 4 hours
• Mar 23, Oakland marathon -- Tune-up for Boston
• Apr 21, Boston marathon -- Shooting for PR and sub 3 hr
• May 3, Miwok 100K -- Hilly! Hoping for top 10 finish
• May 18, Ohlone 50K -- After 2nd place last year, I want to win it this year!
• Jul 11, Hardrock 100 *
• Sep 5, Tahoe 200 *

Note: it was brought to my attention by a friend that a runner named Joel Zucker did indeed die after the 1998 running of Hardrock from complications arising from a cerebral hemorrhage. I was not aware of this when I wrote my blog post above, and I certainly would never make light of such a tragedy. I did not know Joel, but I certainly feel for his family and friends.

2013 Summit Rock 1/2 Marathon

Sanborn County Park in Saratoga, CA

Shhh, I'm going to tell you a secret. But let's just keep it between you and me. While I've run some amazing trails all over the country -- including the canyons of Western States, the Keewenaw Peninsula in Michigan, and the Tahoe Rim Trail in Nevada -- one of my favorite places to run is just 15 minutes from home.

Welcome to Sanborn County Park in Saratoga. It's a little-known, seldom visited hidden gem nestled away off a small one lane road that most people drive right by without ever realizing. Sometimes when I'm in a hurry or just too lazy to drive all the way up Highway 9 to Saratoga Gap, I pull off at the bottom of the hill and drive a mile through the woods to Sanborn.

While the park boasts miles and miles of beautiful shaded single-track trails that cut through stunning redwood forests -- most of those trails go straight up the mountain! Steep, steep, steep with an average grade of about 12%.

I remember being surprised  a few years ago when I learned that Brazen Racing was going to hold a half marathon trail race on this course. Brazen is an amazing company who put on top-notch races. They really nail all the details and add special little touches like personalized race bibs with your name on them. And I love that they not only post the race results online the very next day, but they even post pictures from the race that runners can download -- for free!

I ran the 1/2 marathon at Sanborn in 2010 and 2012. Both years my finishing times were nearly the same. I ran a 1:50:05 in 2010 for 2nd place, and a 1:50:49 in 2012 for 4th place. This year I came into the race feeling stronger and faster than ever. 2013 had been a great year for me with numerous PRs and break-through races.

Not happy to be behind a dude in shorts-over-tights!

I'm not going to lie. When I glanced around at the starting line before the race and noticed that course record holder Leor Pantilat was absent I did a little dance of joy. While there were definitely a few fit, fast-looking guys at the starting line, I was thankful not to see Leor or any other elite studs like Lon Freeman, Sam Robinson, Alex Varner or Sergio Reyes. Maybe I would have a shot to win this year!

We took off and I found myself running in second place just off the shoulder of a dude wearing running shorts over tights. I consider this a major fashion faux-pas and was infuriated and ashamed to be behind him. So I turned on the jets and accelerated, intending to take the lead. But he suddenly started sprinting so as to not let me pass. He kept this up for a good 1/2 mile before inexplicably slowing down and dropping way off.

Briefly in the lead

Just as I thought I was about to move into the lead and run away with the race, two other runners moved past me and took the lead. I quickly discerned that thy were European based on their fashionable attire, lithe build, and of course their heavy French and Swiss-German accents. They were working together and moving well. And they were pulling away from me on the climb. I was already planning my "third overall... but first American" race report.

But then something interesting happened. While I was losing ground on the long opening four mile climb (which was supposed to be my strength), I found myself making up chunks of ground on the short downhill sections. As we approached the top of the climb and hit the flatter rolling section of the course I caught up with François, the runner in second place. As  I surged past him I could see the race leader, Christian, hanging about 100 yards ahead.


2nd place is so painful!

I finally caught up to Christian and briefly moved past him into the lead on a rocky, technical downhill section. I was in the lead! I was surely going to win! I was already planning my finish-line celebration dance! But then Christian passed me back on the very next climb. Ugh, this was definitely going to be a battle.

Christian reached the half-way turn-around point only a few seconds before me. I had him in my sights. But that would unfortunately be the last I ever saw of him. He stepped on the gas and opened up a minute lead on me over the next mile and I would never see him again... until he congratulated me at the finish line when I sprinted across in second place, still a minute behind.

Nonetheless, I was thrilled with my performance and my finishing time of 1:45:33 which was over five minutes faster than either of the 1:50:xx times I ran in 2012 and 2010.

But my five minute PR was nothing compared with my buddy and Quicksilver teammate Jeff Clowers (who I have been coaching this year) who took 50 minutes off his time from last year, finishing 36th out of 191 runners with a 2:19:48. Now that's a PR!

My Quads Survived the Quad Dipsea

The race starts up these stairs!

The 28 mile Quad Dipsea trail race has a little something for everyone -- whether you prefer stairs, hills, or more hills. The race starts in downtown Mill Valley before quickly ascending up 688 stairs to the Dipsea trail. Then you basically run up a mountain to the top of "Cardiac Hill" before running down the other side and descending another couple hundred stairs to Stinson Beach. Then you turn around and run back! And then you do it all again. WTF!

Thankfully I'd never run the Dipsea trail before, so I had no idea what exactly I'd gotten myself into. But then some know-it-all standing next to me casually mentions that we're about to gain 9,276 feet of elevation (and descend another 9,276 feet) in what is basically just a mile or two longer than a marathon.

People complain about the Boston marathon being hilly with it's 783 feet of elevation gain. We are about to run 8,500 feet more! According to the race website, "within a few hundred yards the course heads up three flights of stairs as tall as a fifty-story building." Again, WTF!


I think I've made a terrible mistake

I'm the moron with no shirt and racing flats!

"I think I've made a terrible mistake" I say to my wife at the starting line as I look down at my skimpy 2.8 ounce Mizuno Wave Universe 5 road racing flats. Everyone else is wearing rugged trail shoes with armored rock plates, lugged soles, and waterproof Gortex shells. I'm wearing 1.4 ounces of mesh with a thin strip of rubber on each foot. My shoes weigh less than most other people's socks. What was I thinking?

I frantically start looking around for an escape route. Maybe if I duck behind that first tree I can sneak back to the car without anyone seeing me. Unfortunately the gun fires and we are off and running.


And some more stairs...

This isn't an "A" race for me and I didn't necessarily plan to race hard. But then I learn that the first twenty or thirty finishers get seeded bib numbers for the following year. So if you finish first, you get bib #1. If you finish 10th, you get bib #10.

My goal had originally been to try to finish in the top 10. But now I realize that no one is going to be intimidated by a double-digit bib number like #10. If I want to strike fear in the hearts of the other runners at the starting line next year, I'm going to need to finish at least 9th or better. Shit.

The race is off and we're flying up the road towards the world's largest flight of stairs. I'm huffing and puffing my way up the first stair case trying to keep the four or five guys in front of me in sight. Oh shit, I suddenly realize that I am already in 6th place. Usually I like to go out a bit more conservatively and try to reel in as many people as possible in the last miles. Also, I am certain I hear the familiar breathing of my wife Amy just a few steps behind me. I guess she's not taking it easy either!


Stairs, hills, and more hills


Running for my life!

Five or six miles into the race quickly learn that while I excel at running hills (both uphill and downhill), I apparently suck at running down stairs. As I am tip toing down the treacherous mossy stone stairs down into Stinson beach I get passed by two runners flying with reckless abandon. I almost yell something like, "watch it you whippersnappers" before thankfully catching myself. Well, welcome to the 40 and over age group I tell myself.


After reaching Stinson beach in 1:03:24 I turn around and head back. The return is slightly harder and takes me 1:08:19 but I pass a couple of guys and move back up to 6th place. Unfortunately, as soon as we turn around and start the whole thing over again, I get passed going up the stairs by my buddy/arch-nemesis Karl Schnaitter who has beaten me in every race we've ever run together.

Karl starts to pull away from me. In addition, two other guys catch up to me on the climb up to Cardiac. Suddenly it looks like I might slip to 8th place. Which would be fine. But then I can only afford to let one other person pass me or I might lose my tenuous grip on a coveted top 9 finish.

It is in moments of doubt and despair that I call upon a higher power, a source of inspiration that always guides me safely through the darkness and into the light. Beer. I turn my thoughts to the cold Bear Republic Racer 5 IPA waiting for me at the finish line. Suddenly I am flying and the two guys behind me and getting smaller and smaller. I hit the final turnaround in 1:12:40, slower than my first two legs but still respectable. Now it's just one last 7.1 mile leg back home.


Going for broke...

Running on empty

The last leg is the hardest and I am really starting to suffer. However, much to my surprise I keep getting reports from other runners going in the opposite direction that Karl is only 20 seconds ahead. "That's odd," I say to myself. I thought he was long gone.

After cresting Cardiac for the final time I find myself inexplicably flying down the mountain at 7:00 minute pace over treacherous rocky, rooted terrain. Oh hey look, there's Karl.

I fly by politely, almost feeling the need to apologize for running so fast. In the back of my mind all kinds of warning bells and alarms are going off. Surely I shouldn't be running this fast. Surely something very bad is bound to happen. And it does.

Two miles later, as we approach the last uphill before the stairs down to the finish, both of my legs seize up. I went for broke and I lost. Karl is going to pass me back. Those other two guys are going to pass me. Heck, I don't even know if I will be able to make it to the finish line. Ugh.

Sorry D-Bo, I need a beer!

Time to trouble shoot. I quickly take stock of my supplies. Two remaining salt pills, one PowerBar gel packet, and 3/4 of a bottle of sports drink. I swallow everything in one gulp and hope for the best. Somehow I am able to at last jog slowly, so I begin the death slog up the final hill.

I keep expecting Karl to pass me at any second, but when I reach the top and look back, he's still not in sight. My Quicksilver teammate Greg Lanctot is standing at the top of the hill cheering wildly. "Podium, 5th place, blah-blah-something-else-or-other, hold on let me get a picture". Did he just ask me to stop and pose for a picture? WTF dude!

As I awkwardly make my way down the last 688 stairs to the finish, I am still expecting Karl to come flying by me. But finally I see the last flight of stairs and start to realize that I'm going to hang on for 5th place. Whew! What a day.

I sprint across the finish line in a very respectable 4:41:34 despite running a 1:16:57 final leg, my slowest of the day. But I don't care. I'm done, and I know there's cold beer in the cooler!

Mr. and Mrs. Burton

Suddenly, elite Pearl Izumi runner Dylan Bowman appears out of nowhere and wants to congratulate me. He finished 5th at Western States this year and is a personal hero of mine. But I can't be bothered to exchange pleasantries just yet. He's standing in the way of me and my beer. Five seconds later after pounding a bottle of Lagunitas life is all good again.

A few bottles of beer later my wife Amy comes sprinting into the finish, 3rd woman and 30th overall in a time of 5:20:27, her fastest time ever of her three finishes on this course!

Shortly after crossing the finish line I swore to myself that I'd never do this race again! But then I remembered that because I finished 5th place this year, next year I will receive the super-intimidating #5 seeded bib number. Oh yeah. I'll be back. And maybe next year I'll wear real shoes. Nay, probably not.

And maybe next year I will try to win my age group. I will only need to take about an hour off my time in order to beat that Dave Mackey guy who nearly lapped me. Apparently he broke Leor Pantilat's course record or something :)

Where Eagles Don't Soar: The Beer 2 Mile!!!

 

Captain Beermerica

Some sports enthusiasts call it the ultimate test of athletic ability. It requires speed, stamina, mental fortitude, an iron gut, and above all else, the ability to chug beer faster than a college frat boy. Meet The Beer Mile. In order to win, contestants needs to be ale to slam four beers in about six minutes. Oh yeah, and they have to do it while running a mile. No event in the world is harder.

Well, except of course, for the allusive The Beer 2 Mile!

Last year I finished 2nd at the Silicon Valley Beer Mile Championships with a respectable -- though not world class -- time of 6:39 for the mile. Two-time repeat winner Chris Weiler ran 6:14. So I knew that I was going to have to step my training up this year if I wanted to dethrone the man that beer milers reverently call "Der Kaiser".

My training was going great, thanks to two-a-day beer chugging training workouts, and I felt like this might be my year to bring home the coveted Beer Mile Championship trophy. Five days before the race I got together with some friends my running club -- Quicksilver Running Club of San Jose -- to attempt a beer mile practice session.


Mock Beer Mile Training Run

I was joined by teammates Marc "Eagle Dick" Laveson and Harris "The Younger" Mason, both of whom were beer-mile virgins, having not yet broken their beer-mile cherries or tested themselves in the ultimate arena of battle. We met a small dirt track in an undisclosed top-secret training facility in San Jose (fine, it was actually a middle school).

Mock Beer Mile with Marc and Harris

Here is the race report from team race co-captain Toshi Moshi "Pimpin' Chick'n" Hosaka:

The starters were John Burton (the reigning champ), Marc Laveson (beer miler rookie), and Harris Mason (also a beer miler rookie). To be fair, all the participants had run earlier in the day (John ran a 5K and a 10K race in Santa Cruz, Marc had just ran a hilly 16-miler in Sierra Azul, and Harris had also ran in the morning).

While John had a clear advantage and experience in a beer miler, Marc is known to finish Das Boot as a warm up and Harris was the dark horse - he seemed comfortable with his choice of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, the highest alcohol by volume (ABV) at 5.6%, while John and Marc went with the safe choice of Coors at 5.0% ABV.

In the end, the reigning champ, John Burton would take the title at 5:38, followed closely by Marc Laveson at 5:59 and then Harris, comfortably going sub-7 at 6:48. This is a great accomplishment by the rookies and we have real potential to become the next beer miler champion in the PA series (Note: the actual distance was about 0.8 miles).

Lap 1: John slammed the first can in 5 seconds followed closely by Marc who took a little over 10 seconds. They were neck and neck for the first lap. Harris had a malfunction with his beer can (the pull tab came off) and had a late start, but that did not seem to faze him. We noted a bit of beer left in John's 1st beer can. To prevent this from happening again, we will have each runner turn the empty beer upside down on their head after finishing each can.

Lap 2: As John finished his second can in less than 10 seconds, it took a little longer for Marc to finish his. A neighbor peeked in from his backyard at the event in wonderment.

Lap 3: The gap widened between John and Marc, but Marc still has not given up. John seemed relaxed in his strides.

Lap 4: John took it easy and savored his 4th beer while Marc and Harris both struggled with theirs. It was painful to see them finish the last beer.

John was drinking another bottle of IPA after the miler because he was thirsty.


An Already Bad Idea Gets Worse...

The world's fittest athletes alcoholics

For the last couple of years people had started talking -- mostly in hushed whispers -- about whether it would be possible for anyone to run not just one, but two back-to-back beer miles! Eight beers and eight laps around the track. Could it be done? Sure, there was a video floating around the Internet of some guy claiming to have done it in on a grassy knoll while his mom filmed with a shaky video camera. But like the alleged US landing on the moon, it looked like it was likely faked.

Last year a couple of guys talked a lot of smack in the days preceding the race about possibly attempting the beer 2 mile, but in the end it proved to be just that -- all talk. However, this year, the whispers grew louder. After brainstorming with my buddy and Quicksilver teammate Greg Lanctot over a couple (dozen) beers, we both agreed that we would put fear, sanity, sobriety aside, and attempt the impossible -- the Beer 2 Mile.


The Beer Mile(s) Championships

Greg and I each arrived at the track with eight cans or Coors. While carrying my bag of beer from the car to the track, I couldn't help but notice just how much eight cans of beer weighs. It felt like about five pounds! Suddenly I realized just how stupid of an idea this was. I about to try to chug five pounds of beer. Oh no! But oh well, it was too late to quit now. Well technically it was too early to quit now, as how we hadn't even started yet. But you get the point.

Beer chugging is all about good form!

Realizing ahead of time that we would probably be in no shape to drive home (or to even walk home), Greg and I each brought our own designated drivers, who would also function as our crew chiefs and cheering section. In Greg's corner was fellow Quicksilver Running Club teammate Dan Decker, a highly accomplished beer drinker in his own right. Dan and Greg have been known to close down bars. Heck they once even closed down a brewery!

In my corner was my wife Amy and our six year old son. Yes, I brought my son to an event that involved grown adults running around in their underwear and puking in the field. More on underwear in a minute. Also, helping out in my corner was fellow Quicksilver Running Club teammate Jeff Clowers, who I have been coaching this year. I often tell him that if he doesn't feel like puking after a workout, he isn't running hard enough. I assume he always thought I was joking. But now he probably doesn't know what to think.

So, about the underwear. I guess it was just me who was running in underwear. And in my defense, it was really more of a speedo than underwear. And, most importantly, it was part of my "Captain Beermerica" costume, designed to intimidate my competition -- or at least confuse and disorient them. Who can concentrate when some guy is flexing in front of you with his "junk" clearly visible?

Thankfully the race finally began and I was able to get moving (it's COLD standing around in your underwear at night -- even with arm warmers!). Tim Reynolds and Chris Weiler both slammed their first beer in under 5 seconds and took the race out hard. I tucked in behind them for the first 100 meters but then grew impatient and decided to up the ante. I moved past them into the lead -- which was probably a foolish, impetuous move.

Beer Mile Champion Tim Reynolds with trophy!

I held the lead for the first 3 laps and was starting to think that I might actually win the Beer Mile race en route to hopefully also winning the Beer 2 Mile! That would have been quite the accomplishment. But alas, Tim Reynolds slammed his 4th beer before I was even half-way done with mine. Chris Weiler and I gave chase, but Tim had already opened up a 20 meter lead and he was flying. Tim ended up winning with an amazing time of 6:04 while Chris finished just a few seconds behind him in 6:08.

Once I realized that I wasn't going to be able to catch Tim and win the mile, I backed off the pace to conserve what was left of my strength for my second mile. I think I crossed the line in around 6:13, but there was some confusion (mainly mine) as I stopped to grab my 5th beer before proceeding to the start finish line. So I think I was officially listed as having run a 6:23. In any case, it was significantly faster than my 6:39 from 2012!

The second mile proved far more difficult than the first mile. Shortly after chugging my 5th beer I was forced to make a brief pit stop on the side of the track where I deposited the contents of my stomach in the grass. I also made several more pit stops after my 6th, 7th, and 8th beers. As per the official beer mile rules, I also had to run an additional "puke penalty lap". Thankfully I managed to run the 9th and final lap without any unscheduled stops.

Beer 2 Mile Champions -- Greg and John

Staggering across the finish line, I became the first person to ever complete the Beer 2 Mile event at the Silicon Valley Beer Mile Championships in a time of 18 minutes and 10 seconds. But I was not the only man who made history that day. Less than 3 minutes later, my teammate and partner and crime, Greg Lanctot also crossed the finish line triumphantly -- also after having run an additional penalty lap.

I am not suggesting that Greg and I are the two baddest men on the planet. But we're definitely a close third and fourth behind Chuck Norris and that Dos Equis beer guy. Stay thirsty my friends!

2013 Pinhoti 100

Megan at North Country Run 50M Michigan

Meet Megan Rieger

This isn't your usual race report. Rather, this is a story about how I spent a wonderful Saturday morning/afternoon/evening running 100 miles through the woods with a friend across some of the most beautiful trails in Alabama.

I met Megan two years ago at a 50 mile race in Michigan. She definitely made the quite the first impression. I had lined up at the front of the pack at the race start figuring I had a good shot to win or at least place in the top three.

Those of you who know me, know that I like to go out fairly hard to get clear of the early crowds. So you can imagine my surprise when a young woman came flying by me and opened up a couple hundred yards lead in the first half mile. That was Megan!

After leading the race -- including all the men --for quite a few miles, she eventually slowed down. But she didn't slow down that much. She still hung on to finish 1st woman and 5th overall, just 15 minutes or so minutes behind me.

This year Megan and I both again ran the same 50 miler in Michigan. And just like last year Megan went out hard -- leading the race (including all the men) for the first 25 miles. And like last year she faded a bit, but still managed to hang on and finish 1st woman and 5th overall. And she ran about 30 minutes faster this year than last year!

50M women's and men's master's champions!

However, what impressed me the most was how fresh Megan seemed after the race. While I was barely able to hobble up to the beer tent, Megan sprinted effortlessly through the park, hurdling a parking lot fence on her way to her car to get changed. When I later asked her, "you don't even look sore" she laughed and said that her legs never get tired. It was about that time that a light bulb went off in my head and I thought, "hmm, this girl could win Western States one day with a little coaching."

I asked Megan if she had ever thought about running Western States or any other 100 miler and she said that she was definitely interested. I offered to help coach, mentor, pace, or just support her in any way that I could. It was already late August, so she chose Pinhoti, held in early November for her first 100 miler attempt. This would only give her two months to get her mileage up, but that was fine since she wasn't necessarily looking to win the thing, but rather just to finish within the allotted time and qualify for Western States.

Spoiler alert: she did end up winning the thing :)


The Game Plan

Pinhoti is a point-to-point race held in the fall in the Talladega National Forest in Alabama. It contains about 16,000 feet of elevation gain and traverses miles of rocky leaf-covered single-track with numerous river and creek crossings. While it's not the hardest 100 miler out there (as it's not run at elevation), it's not one of the easier ones either!

Originally I had offered to pace Megan which meant that I would be able to run the last 60 miles with her. But at the time, it didn't appear that she would have any crew (her boyfriend David later convinced to drive down from Cincinnati to crew her) and we weren't sure how I would even get out 40 miles into the wilderness.

To make it easier and avoid any problems with logistics, we decided that I would just register for the race and run the entire thing. That way I would be right there with her at mile 40 and be able to start pacing without having to ask a lot of questions like, "how much have you been drinking", "what have you been eating", or "how many times have you fallen". As you can probably tell from her photos with dirt and blood-stained knees and elbows, Megan has a very close relationship with the earth and tends to reacquaint herself with it from time to time during her run :)

So the plan was that neither of us would have an actual pacer. Rather we would just stick together and try to run 100 miles as a team. We were hoping that this would work well since I am strong uphill runner and Megan (coming from a track/sprinter background) has great leg turnover and can really fly on the flats and downhills. And hopefully her boyfriend David would be able to successfully navigate through the forest roads at meet us at some of the crew-accessible aid stations. I gave him my GPS system and wished him luck!

There we are... tiny specks in the way, way, way back!

The Early Easy Miles

Megan and David had missed the pre-race briefing the night before as they ended up exploring some of Alabama's less-known roads while trying to skirt rush-hour traffic. So I spent some time on the morning bus ride to the start briefing Megan about the course. While I really wanted to make sure that Megan didn't go out recklessly hard like she had done in her previous three ultras (this would only be her 4th ultra and her first 100), I was also concerned about us going out too slow and getting caught in a conga line in the early single-track miles.

Unfortunately things don't always go as planned and Megan found herself just coming out of the bathroom as the race started. What a rookie! We were officially now in last place and only had 1/4 mile to pass as many people on the open fire road before we hit the conga-line single-track where we would potentially be stuck for hours.

Luckily we were able to pass quite a few of the 265 starters and moved up somewhere in the top 40 or so. We got a bit bottled up in the narrow early single-track sections for the first 7 miles but we were able to improve our position by running straight through the occasional early river crossings while the other runners slowed down and queued up trying to keep their feet dry by rock-hopping.

Beautiful Lake Morgan

By the first checkpoint we had moved up into the top 20 and Megan was in 2nd place among the women with UROC race director Francesca Conte just behind us and an unknown first-time 100 mile female runner just a minute or so ahead. I told Megan that this was the perfect spot to be and that she should just stay calm and take it easy until at least mile 40 before even worrying about her place or time. Put it on cruise control!

As we approached the Lake Morgan aid station at mile 27.66 we saw the lead woman head out just as we approached. But we spent quite a bit of time at the aid station and Francesca came in and quickly headed back out while we were still stuffing our faces with food. I told Megan not to sweat it though as it was still very early in the race.



On top of the world (or at least Alabama)

The Middle Muddled Miles

Much to our surprise, not too long after the 50K point in the race Megan passed both Rachel (the woman who had been leading the race) and Francesca within a span of just a few minutes. Francesca seemed to be having some issues with her shoes or shoelaces, and Rachel had simply dramatically slowed down, almost inexplicably. We would later read in her blog that she had hit a bit of a mental low spot at this point (but she would eventually recover and hold on to finish 5th woman).

Around mile 38 or so we began the climb up to Bald Rock, the highest point of the race (and in fact the highest point in all of Alabama). This was really the first time we took a break from running and did some good power hiking up to the top. It felt good to switch gears and mix thing up a bit to give the muscles a little break. But unfortunately we hit the top of the hill in no time at all and had to start running again :(

Unlike this guy, we ran down Blue Hell

But wait, have I told you about "Blue Hell"? Just a mile or so after cresting the Bald Rock we found ourselves no longer able to run and instead forced to do actual scrambling down a rocky cliff. This was far more difficult than anything I had ever personally encountered in any other 100 miler (though I am sure Hardrockers would have loved it).

After escaping from Blue Hell we got into a pretty good groove sharing stories about our childhood and teenage years (note: my childhood stories were a bit more dated and Megan is probably still wondering what the heck a "VCR" is).

Eventually we started to run out of stories and sunlight and we found ourselves running in silence in the dark, appreciating the beauty of the stars under God's sky.


The Late Sucky Miles

The last twenty miles were, as you might expect, the most difficult of the race. Running at night in the dark is always challenging. And to make things worse, Megan's right knee was really starting to bother her. It had actually been bothering her all day since she tweaked a pre-existing injury very early on in the first 10 miles. She had been soldiering on through the pain, fueled on by her faith (and a fair bit of Advil). But now she was having trouble even putting weight on it, much less running.

Pretty nice hardware!

But she dug a little deeper and we pressed on. We walked the hills, but we flew down the descents! At one point, when my flashlight was almost dead and barely putting out any light, I was having trouble keeping up with Megan as she absolutely bombed one of the descents. But I didn't dare slow down or else I would have found myself running alone in the dark.

Finally we popped out of the forest and onto the paved road that would lead us to the finish at the local high school track two miles away. Everything seemed a bit surreal. I couldn't believe that Megan was not only about to finish her first hundred miler, but that she was going to win it! We joked a bit about what kind of celebration dance she was going to do when we crossed the finish line.

Megan and David at the award's ceremony!

After what seemed like 5 miles and several false sightings of the finish, we finally made it to the school. It was around 3:30 am in the morning so there wasn't much of a crowd, but Megan's boyfriend David was there cheering her on, and I am sure that was enough for her. As soon as we crossed the line the race director congratulated us and handed us our buckles. Talk about prompt service!

Megan used her high school track sprinter speed to edge me out in a photo finish with a 21:22:39 for 13th place overall while I clocked 21:22:40 for 14th place -- my second fastest 100 miler ever. More impressively, we ran pretty even splits with 10:30 for the first 50 miles and 10:52 for the second 50 miles!

To sum things up, it was a beautiful race on some of the best single-track I have ever run on. The weather was perfect. The volunteers were amazing and the food -- oh, man I could have written a whole blog post just on the food: fried egg and ham sandwiches, pigs in a blanket, potato soup, venison, meatballs, and much more. And Megan, running her first 100 miler ever, got the win showcasing her incredible talent and toughness. I can't wait to see what she does next!

I Feel the Need, the Need for Speed!

Morgan Hill Marathon

Well, my ultra-marathon season is finally winding down for the year. I just have the Quad Dipsea left, and at only 28 miles long it's closer to a marathon than a 50K. So now it's time to cut back the high-volume LSD and start focusing on speed again. My wife Amy and I are both running the Boston Marathon in April, and I'm hoping to not only PR, but to go sub 3 hours for the first time ever.

"So what we'll be calling on is good ol' fashion blunt force trauma." Yeah, I stole that line from a Rocky movie :)

In order to assess exactly where I am, and just how slow I am, I decided to run the local Morgan Hill Marathon last weekend. It's a hilly course, with somewhere between 900 and 1200 feet of elevation gain, so it's much more hilly that what I will encounter at Boston. But I figured if I could run a respectable time of 3:05 - 3:10 on this course, then it should set me up well for a shot at sub 3 at Boston. At least that was the plan.

But, spoiler alert, things don't always go as planned.

Free tickets to the gun show :)

With two minutes to go before the race started, I found myself still in the port-a-potty line. But I knew from past experience that if I held firm the majority of people in front of me would bail and head to the starting line when the clock dipped under a minute to go.

Sure enough, I suddenly found myself at the front of the line. After quickly taking care of business I jogged over to the starting line, discarded my shirt, and elbowed my way to the front of the pack with twenty seconds to spare.

I went out conservatively, or as conservatively as I could stand, which meant that I tucked in behind the 1:30 half-marathon pace group leader for the first mile. But when he turned off (the marathon and half marathon courses diverged) I slowed own a bit more and settled into about 7:00 pace.

I found myself basically running all alone for the first 13 miles in about 5th place overall with no one directly insight either in front or behind me.

I hit the half marathon mark in about 1:33 and was still feeling pretty good. I was already thinking of clever titles for my blog and Strava upload. Things like, "Get ready Boston, I'm coming for yo' ass". There was no way I was going to fail. A top 10 placement and sub 3:10 finish were mine. Nothing could stop me.

Well, almost nothing. Except a calf cramp. Ugh.

John and Hermann

Suddenly, at mile 19, I was in a world of hurt. My right calf kept locking up, forcing me to slow my pace. And then, for good measure, my arms starting cramping up as well (making it difficult to even lift my water bottle to drink).

Things were looking bad. And then I heard footsteps behind me. It was my co-worked and good friend, Hermann Lueckhoff! Hermann was running strong and would go on to finish 7th overall with a 3:06 finish.

The last 7 miles were pretty miserable for me. I desperately wanted to drop out. But having already DNF'd twice at this race, I knew I had to at least grind it out and get the finish this time -- no matter how slow.

Eventually I finally made it back to the start finish line with a time of 3:11:30. Several people had passed me in the last 3 miles and I ended up finishing 12th overall. But somehow I still managed to win my age group (thankfully my buddy Hermann was in the 45 - 49 age group).

Will run for booze!

Although I was pretty disappointed with my performance it's hard to stay too grumpy when you get called up to the podium and presented with a bottle of champagne for winning your age group :)

Obviously I have a little more training to do before Boston if I want to achieve my goal. But I've still got plenty of time. And first things first, I have a bottle of champagne to pound!